Okay, I know I said I'd work on the updating, and I meant it! My computer was down the entire weekend thanks to a virus, and that's my prime writing time. I was really busy this week, but today I finally had a day off and updated. Expect updates about once a week, hopefully quicker. Hope you like it!
~Dolphins~
The only sound in the room was the incessant beeping of the multiple monitors dispersed throughout it and the breathing of its conscious occupant. Because of the severity of his injury, only one of the team was permitted to be in the room at a time. They had been rotating every ten minutes for the past five hours, since Gibbs had gotten out of surgery. The rotation had at this point landed on Tony, and he walked into the room diminutively, without his usual swagger. It made his legs turn to jelly to see his mentor, his hero, again helpless at his feet. And this time, the blame lay with him, and only on his shoulders, so he thought. He buried his head in his hands, and for the first time in years allowed a single tear to drip down his cheek.
The rest of the team was crowded in the small waiting room, holding hands to try and draw the strength from one another that they themselves lacked. Each member of the team had a different way of dealing with the grief that was engulfing them all at the incapacitation of their fearless leader.
Tears marred the perfect features of Abby Scuito. Her silver-haired fox was grappling with death again, and she didn't know how many brushes with mortality even he could take. What tortured her was that the injury had come from inside him, that there was a monster lurking there that none of them had known existed. The difference between this and the sinister creatures of lore was that this one only desired to hurt himself, not those around him. But what it, what he didn't know was that doing this to himself would kill those around him, if not figuratively then literally.
Ducky was prattling on, presumably to the sleeping man, about something that had happened in Scotland many years ago. After all these years, it had come to be his coping mechanism to deal with death and those close to it to speak about the good times.
McGee was doing his best to comfort Abby, but she kept pushing him away. He had thought that she would want a shoulder to cry on right now, but he was dead wrong. He had only taken a single turn in the room with Gibbs, but no one had noticed his reluctance in entering again. He couldn't stand to see the strongest man he knew like that again. The first coma had been bad enough, and he hadn't known him as well then- he had misinterpreted his apparent coldness and brisk nature as callous indifference to his team, but now he knew that it was just a defense mechanism to shelter himself. It wasn't working particularly well at this point, obviously.
Despite the different way their mental processes took them there, there was a burning question in all of their minds. How had anyone not seen his downward spiral, or tried to stop it? Leroy Jethro Gibbs wasn't the exuberant type to showcase his emotions clearly on his face, but there were subtle changes in personality that they should have been able to pick up on. How could a man who defied the limits of strength be weakened so much by the supposed in his own mind? How could he be so tired of the world, tired of himself that he would think to take his own life?
Tony wiped the traces of tears from his cheeks and took a good look at his boss. He had aged quite a lot in the past year. More wrinkles lined his face than ever before, and he didn't look peaceful, even in what should have been blissful sleep. His salt and pepper hair (more salt than pepper) was shaven off at the top where there was a bandage. The bullet had entered the cranium at an upward angle, pushing aside the brain tissue instead of penetrating it, saving his life. The attending doctors had informed him that the coma he was in was a shallow one and every test they performed came back with perfect brain function. According to the neurologist, he should be waking up any minute which was the reasoning behind having one of them in the room at all times. The doctors had said that it would be beneficial for him to see a familiar face when he woke up to attempt to prevent disorientation.
Suddenly, Tony was staring directly into a pair of ice-blue eyes. He called out into the hallway for a nurse or a doctor, because suddenly he was afraid to be alone in the room with Gibbs. He felt like he would see his failure staring him in the face, but another part of him felt great relief that at least he was okay, awake. An attractive female nurse jogged quickly into the room, flashing a smile at him as she did. He returned it half-heartedly- pointless flirting was the last thing on his mind right now.
Despite keeping his eyes off Gibbs, he could still feel the older man's eyes boring into him. He hadn't spoken a single word- not in love, anger, hatred, nothing. The nurse began to speak reassuringly to him, asking him simple questions like his name and occupation which he answered in a monotone. Tony tried to surreptitiously exit the room, but the nurse told him that he should stay, and he regretfully sat back in the chair. Gibbs had kept his gaze trained on Tony throughout the entire questioning, brief though it was. The nurse pronounced Gibbs "good to go" and he began to glare at Tony with even more intensity than usual.
The rest of the team was waiting patiently at the door, ready to come in, but Tony shooed them away temporarily, knowing he would have to have this conversation with Gibbs some time or another.
"Why didn't you let me do it, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said with his usual abruptness.
"Because Boss…" Tony stammered, sure of his answer to the pointed question but not how to phrase it.
"Because why?" Gibbs growled.
"Because I know you don't want to die. I can help you. We can help you. You can get through this." Tony said desperately
"I'm done, Tony. Life sucks." Gibbs's anger was mounting now and he began to breathe heavily. Tony, wrapped up in his cocoon of regret, didn't even notice.
"Yeah, well life sucks for me a lot too. But you've gotta get through it." Tony said wisely. "You don't want to die." He repeated.
"Yes I do dammit!" After he uttered these irate words, his eyes rolled back into his head and he flopped onto the bed, a violent seizure ripping through his body. The heart monitor began beeping furiously, and a whole crowd of nurses and doctors ran in, almost running Tony down. As he practically ran out of the room, he could hear them saying "Paddles!" and the flat line of the heart monitor.
I know, I have to stop with the cliffhangers. Please review- it'll help me update faster!
~Dolphins
