Work Text:
The Gibbs Cure
By Annie
"I really liked him." My voice is remarkably steady, much steadier than my hands which I've clenched into tight fists down on my legs, where Gibbs won't see them.
"I can see that." He says it casually as he glances over into the back seat of the car and looks at the blood-covered body sprawled there.
I take a deep breath, and then wish I hadn't as the smell of death suddenly overwhelms me. I hit out at the door handle with my fist, managing to open it and stumble out of my seat onto the concrete next to the car. I keep my head down, and will myself not to throw up. My stomach overpowers my will though and I end up almost overbalancing as I heave.
Somebody has hold of the back of my neck, a hand firmly keeping me from ending up face-first in my own mess.
Finally it stops and I slump backwards onto my heels, drawing in huge lungfuls of the clean cool air.
"Here."
I look down at the handkerchief that's been pushed into my hand. It takes a minute for me to work out what to do with it and then before I can start, Gibbs' hand comes into view and takes it. Then he uses it to wipe my mouth and chin.
"Lean back against the car." His arm goes around my shoulders and I dig my heels into the ground and manage to push back till I'm sitting propped against the vehicle.
I tilt my head back and close my eyes. Shit, I'm tired. Being on the run can sure take it out of a guy.
"Get a medic here."
That gets my eyes open in a hurry. "No need, Boss. I'm fine."
"Mm-hm. You're in shock," he says, as he cups the side of my face in his warm hand.
"I don't do shock," I assure him.
He doesn't move his hand, just grins down at me. "You're doing it now, DiNozzo."
I shake my head then wish I hadn't as bile touches the back of my throat again. I swallow it down and close my eyes. "I'm fine, Boss."
"If the medics say you're fine, you don't have to go to the hospital." He says it like he's just made some sort of deal with me and I open my eyes and look at him suspiciously.
"You don't trust me to know whether I'm fine or not?" I flinch as the hand he's been holding against my face moves away and up towards the back of my head. But instead of the slap I'm expecting, he just tousles my hair gently.
He leans in close to my ear and whispers, "No, I don't, DiNozzo. Get over it. You're getting checked out."
~oOo~
"Happy now?" I manage to grin at Gibbs as the medic helps me to my feet and brushes off my back for me.
"Yep." He nods at me and gives me a crooked smile back then starts to walk towards his car. Half-way there, he stops and looks back. "Well, move it, DiNozzo. I don't want to be here all night. Let's go."
I manage to coax my still somewhat shaky legs into a run and catch up. "Go where?"
"My place," he says as if that explains everything. Hell, it probably does to him.
I collapse into the passenger seat next to him and he takes off, tires squealing. Shit! Guess he doesn't drive any different no matter how shitty his passenger feels. I hang onto the handle of the door surreptitiously with one hand and rest the other one across my belly, praying to whatever Gods still love Anthony DiNozzo that I won't upchuck again and splatter the boss' upholstery.
By the time we're out of the car and inside his place, things are settling more and now I just feel numb and kinda buzzed, the way I do when I stay up for one of those twenty four hour marathons on the tube.
I look down to find a towel in my hands. Hey, how did that get there? I look up and see Gibbs standing in front of me. He's shaking his head and muttering something under his breath. I'd read his lips but I'm too tired to bother.
Instead I let him push me into the bathroom. And then I guess I must be really tired because I let him undress me and shove me under the spray too. I lean forward and rest my head against the tiles. It's nice. I could sleep here.
A cold breeze at my back wakes me and I jump.
"You gonna just sleep in there or wash, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asks as he peers in through the steam. "Hot water's gonna run out soon."
"Sorry." I pull the door hastily closed then scrub down quickly. I still feel chilled from the inside out so a dash of cold water is the last thing I want.
When I step out I find a clean set of sweats on the lid of the toilet and a note taped to the mirror that reads `Gone to buy dinner'.
Ten minutes later I'm sucking down hot coffee that tastes like manna from heaven when Gibbs walks into the kitchen and tosses a bag of burgers and fries from MickeyDs down on the table.
"Feel better?" he asks as he pulls out a chair and sits down, grabbing a burger and bag of fries out for himself then shoving the bag across to me.
I salivate at the smell and grab for the fries, shoving a handful into my mouth. "Mush be'er," I garble around the food.
"Guess you didn't have much to eat while you were on the run," Gibbs observes dryly but he's smiling so I just shake my head and unwrap the hamburger and hoe in.
By the time I'm three quarters of the way through the food I'm suddenly overcome with a feeling of such exhaustion that it's as much as I can do not to slither out of the chair and curl up on the floor.
Gibbs apparently notices because the next thing I'm aware of is his hand hauling me up by the arm and towing me over to the couch. There's a pillow and a couple of blankets already on it and I blink, wondering when he'd done that.
"I made up the bed when you drifted off mid-mouthful," Gibbs says, obviously reading my mind.
My tongue seems to have already gone into hibernation mode so I just nod and collapse onto the couch, as Gibbs pull the blankets up over me. I reach out and pat his hand as thanks as he smooths the covers over my shoulders and he grins then gives me a gentle tap to the back of the head.
"You're welcome. Get some sleep. I want a report on my desk by 12 midday tomorrow."
I yawn so widely I'm surprised I don't dislocate my jaw then close my eyes. I'll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.
End