Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from NCIS
Author's Note: Busy day! Picnics, yard work, laundry, yep-a very exciting life! A little background on this story-I had surgery about a week ago, and started mulling this over while in the hospital being given some very interesting drugs. It's amazing what a little shot can do to your mind, and I started wondering how Tony would handle this kind of situation. Anyway, it kept me entertained while I was at home from work last week. We get a lot of whumped Tony in the first half, and a lot of Papa Gibbs in the last half.
Review if you enjoy it-hearing from you is one of the highlights of my day! Every little thanks is a sign of encouragement! :)
"Amanda, the pretty nurse is Amanda," Tony reminded himself as he opened his eyes and glanced around. From what he could tell she had been with him all night, helping him through the continual bouts of nausea and vomiting.
"I'm sure the nausea is from the concussion," she explained, checking the stitches above his eye. "You've got a pretty spectacular bruise going on there." Tony flinched when she carefully ran her fingers over the area.
He turned his eyes toward the IV's. "Could that be making me sick?" he asked slowly. Everything felt sluggish and distorted, and all the vomiting had left him weak and spent.
Amanda tilted her head as if trying to select an answer. "It's mostly saline to keep you from getting dehydrated. But Doctor Anderson has added some anti-psychotic medication and tranquilizers. It shouldn't make you sick, but it is part of the reason you feel so disoriented and sleepy," she stated. "You know, you're very lucky. Dr. Anderson is a highly regarded psychiatrist and she only treats selected patients. If anyone can help you, she can."
"No one tried to call Gibbs did they?" he asked quietly, giving up hope for contacting his one lifeline. Amanda obviously believed he was crazy; she would have no reason to do anything he asked. In his heart he knew the stubborn old marine would be out there searching for him. "But how did I end up here? Am I undercover?" he asked himself. Nothing made sense right now.
She shook her head, tossing her short blonde hair from side-to-side. "No, Tony. Like Dr. Anderson said, you have to let go of that fantasy and try to re-orient yourself to reality," she imparted kindly. "You need to keep reminding yourself that Gibbs isn't real, he's just someone you made up. I've seen this reaction in many schizophrenic patients; it takes some time to remove yourself from the world you've created."
"Why are they trying to convince me I'm crazy?" he wondered. If anything in his life was real, it was Gibbs; the man was his rock, his foundation. Tony desperately hung on to this thought, despite what they were telling him to believe. It was difficult to think clearly, and something in the back of his mind whispered, "What if they're telling you the truth?" Closing his eyes he let out a slow breath and clenched his fists, willing himself not to tug at the straps again. It was just a reminder of his current helplessness.
"I don't suppose you could take these off?" Tony questioned hopefully.
Amanda sighed, "I know it has to be uncomfortable. But I can't go against the doctor's orders." She offered him some ice chips, which he reluctantly accepted. "If you cooperate and show you're willing to participate in treatment, I'm sure she'll take them off soon."
Another nurse entered the room. She was big, older, and did not seem happy to be there. "So is this our new problem patient?" she asked Amanda, picking up the chart from the side table and giving Tony an icy once over. He felt like a lab specimen, keenly aware of what he must look like, strapped to the bed and wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown.
"This is Anthony, Sylvia. He hasn't caused any problems so far except for ruining a pair of my shoes when he puked on them," she winked at him. Tony was grateful for her kindness, but wary of this new person who didn't seem so nice.
"Right," Sylvia said. "Well, hon, your shift is over and I've been assigned to care for him today. So you head on home and I'll take over from here."
Amanda leaned in to speak quietly to the new nurse. "He really isn't bad, Sylvia, and he's very confused right now. Take it easy with him, ok?" she asked.
"You're such a softie, Amanda. Now get out of here and stop worrying about the patients. I'll make sure he's fine," the older nurse scolded. "See you tomorrow."
Amanda glanced over at Anthony, his heavy eyes once again drooping like a sleepy child's, and hoped Sylvia would be true to her word.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs and Ziva arrived at Great Aunt Trudy's house to interview Evan Davenport. McGee had stayed at the hotel researching their main suspect's financial records and recent activities. Maya opened the door to greet them.
"Good morning! Please come in, Evan is expecting you," she ushered them inside. "Have you heard anything from Anthony?"
"No, nothing, Maya," Gibbs answered honestly. "I'm hoping Evan will give us more insight into what might've happened."
They followed her to the study where she knocked; a handsome man in his late thirties with dark hair and blue eyes opened the door. The charming man smiled, "Hello, Agent Gibbs, I've been looking forward to meeting you. I expect you want to talk about Tony," he said. Davenport gave Ziva an appreciative gaze; the former Mossad agent frowned at him in return.
Evan cleared his throat nervously, "Maya, could you see we aren't disturbed?"
"Of course," she replied, once again looking at Gibbs. "I hope you find Anthony soon," she said, before quietly leaving the room.
"This is Agent David," the Lead Agent introduced his partner, who nodded, but continued to glare at the dark-haired man.
"Can I offer either of you a drink?" Evan asked, trying to avoid their gazes, as he poured something for himself.
"No, not while we're working an official investigation," the silver-haired agent replied.
"Oh, so this is an official investigation," Davenport said easily.
"One of my agents is missing, so yes, this is an official investigation," Gibbs stated, clearly irritated with the man. "I need you to tell me what happened between you and Tony this weekend."
Evan sat behind his desk and displayed a practiced casual air. "I'm not sure what you're implying, but nothing significant happened between Tony and myself. I had some questions for him regarding mother's estate, which he fully explained," Evan summarized.
"It didn't bother you that your mother decided to leave the majority of her inheritance to a couple of," he looked down at his note-pad, "wire-fox terriers?" The blue-eyed man taunted him.
The hand holding the wine glass shook slightly. "Yes, Agent Gibbs, that did bother me. I never understood my mother's obsession with those mutts. But it was mother's money, and she could dispose of it as she wanted," Evan said smoothly. "I'm grateful she saw fit to leave me an allowance and continued use of our family home." Despite his words, the man could not hide the insincerity in his voice.
"So how much did she leave the Humane Society?" Ziva questioned.
Evan sighed slightly, "Around twenty million."
Gibbs gave a low whistle. "That's a lot to lose. I'd be surprised if you weren't angry enough to take some extreme steps."
Evan stood, a low simmering anger under the surface. "If you're insinuating I did something to Tony, you are way off target. Tony finished up his responsibilities as executor and decided to leave. I have no idea where he went after that. I mean, you know Tony, he could be out with anyone right now. It's not like he's a poster boy for good virtue," Evan stated.
Gibbs smirked. "And I suppose you are?" he said, stepping closer to Davenport, blue eyes simmering. Ziva stood behind her boss, arms folded, smiling slightly. "You know, I don't think I believe anything you're telling me. My gut says you know exactly where Tony is." Evan took a step away from the ex-marine who was now far into his personal space. "If I find out you had any part in what has happened to Tony, nothing will stop me from tearing you apart."
"Don't threaten me, Agent Gibbs," Evan spat out.
Gibbs smiled, backing Davenport against a wall, "It's not a threat. It's a fact." The federal agent stared DiNozzo's cousin up and down. "I will find Tony, and you better pray I find him unharmed and you uninvolved." His voice was low and menacing, carrying with it a promise of retribution for anyone who hurt his Senior Field Agent.
"We'll show ourselves out," Gibbs said, striding away. Ziva grinned smugly and waved her fingers before following him outside.
As the NCIS agent closed the door, Evan Davenport slammed his fist on the table. "Damn, you Tony," he said "Damn you to hell."
NCISNCISNCIS
"He is lying, Gibbs," Ziva fumed. "You should let me go back and make him tell us where Tony is." Her brown eyes blazed with fury. She might pick at Tony, but the Israeli still cared greatly about her partner, and not being able to help him was infuriating.
"Not yet, Ziva," Gibbs replied. Worry and fear for Tony were eating at him, but they had to follow protocol at least for a little while. If nothing turned up quickly, then they could explore the other options in which Ziva excelled. Gibbs had no problem resorting to less than legal tactics if he had to; it wasn't like he hadn't done it before, but it was best to run down as many leads as possible first.
Ziva had a faraway look in her eyes; she remembered Tony's strength in the face of Salim's interrogation. Her partner had never once broken, despite being beaten and drugged. "Tony is very strong," she said to Gibbs, more to reassure herself than anything else. "He will be able to take care of himself." She looked at Gibbs, needing to hear his response.
The ex-gunnery sergeant smiled grimly. "Damn right, David. Damn right," he declared, putting the car in gear and peeling out; they would go back to the hotel and see if McGee had come up with anything yet. Tony might be strong, but he still needed their help. "And soon," Gibbs added silently, his gut clenching once again.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony heard hushed voices talking somewhere behind him. "You should have let me kill him when this first started. Then we wouldn't have this mess to deal with."
"I already told you, I need him. I'm helping you in any way possible, but killing him isn't the only solution," a feminine voice stated. It sounded like Dr. Anderson.
The man laughed. "You won't kill him, but you will stick him in here and try to drive him crazy? Or just hide him until everyone stops looking? Look, this Gibbs character isn't going to give up. I'm not very confident in your long-range planning, Emily," he said.
"I'm in this as much as you are, so don't worry, I'll take care of what needs to be done," the doctor declared. "Besides, you know how much I enjoy working the kinks out of stubborn young men. I helped you, didn't I? And now, I'm going to look at this as an opportunity to not only make us a great deal of money, but to help dear Anthony, as well. I've managed to see a few of his medical records, and it seems he has some childhood trauma that needs to be resolved." She paused, "You just worry about taking care of your end of things."
Tony could feel someone standing over him, but he didn't try to open his eyes and look. He decided to feign sleep and see if he could hear anything useful. The person tugged at the strap on his wrist, then cinched it tighter. He did the same thing to Tony's other wrist. "At least he's not going anywhere," the man said cruelly. "I never did like you, Anthony. You never knew how to mind your own business."
"Who is that?" Tony questioned. He tried not to react to the throbbing in his wrists.
"What's in those?" the voice asked Dr. Anderson.
"A very special cocktail for a very special agent. As long as he's on this stuff he won't be able to tell up from down. It's one of my own recipes," she said. "I should be able to collect some good data on its use."
"I better get back to the house in case Agent Gibbs comes looking for me again," it sounded like the man kissed Dr. Anderson on the cheek. "I'll check back in later today."
Tony wanted to cheer at the sound of Gibb's name. He had no doubt his boss would find him, but it was comforting to hear someone else mention the Lead Agent. It also reassured him that he wasn't losing his mind. A part of Tony expected his mentor to come busting through the door at any second. When it didn't happen, Tony sighed inwardly. "Ok, boss," he thought, "Just don't take too long."
DiNozzo could hear Dr. Anderson moving around the room; without warning he could feel her breath in his ear. "I know you're awake, Anthony," she whispered. "Do you like listening to conversations you aren't supposed to hear? Is that what used to get you in trouble as a little boy?" She leaned away from him. "Open your eyes," she demanded coldly.
Tony opened his eyes to stare at the beautiful doctor. She was standing next to the bed, arms folded. "You are not to eavesdrop, Anthony. It's against my rules. Remember that for the future," she explained firmly.
"It's not like I could go anywhere," Tony responded, wiggling the straps.
The doctor scowled for a few minutes, then burst out laughing. "You can call me Emily," she said tilting her head so that her long brown hair fell to the side. "I like you, Anthony. I'm beginning to think I like you very much." She stared at him with an odd expression for a few more minutes, taking in his soft brown hair and green eyes. The psychiatrist reached over and traced a finger along his jaw line. Tony breathed slowly and tried not to flinch. Emily was interrupted by the heavyset nurse entering the room.
"We're ready to move him," the new nurse said.
"Alright, Sylvia," the doctor answered, smiling at her patient. "It's time to go, Anthony."
They loosened the straps and pushed a gurney next to the bed. Tony considered resisting them, but he was so weak and tired he knew it would be a wasted effort. Swiftly he was moving through hallways and corridors, until finally they stopped in a small room. "There you go, Mr. Harrington," Sylvia said as she tucked blankets tightly around him. "You should try and rest this evening."
"My….nmes…Dnozo," he mumbled, not wanting her to touch him but unable to make her stop.
The nurse shook her head, "Dr. Anderson and I will be back to check on you again later."
Tony's breathing grew heavy and slow as the powerful drugs continued to move through him. "I need to wake up," he thought desperately. "I need to find a way out of this place," but his mind and body were no longer his own, and he could feel himself slipping further away from reality. "Keep looking for me, Boss," he thought, as he slid under the blackness again.
NCISNCISNCIS
"McGee, what have you found?" Gibbs demanded, stepping back into the hotel room along with Ziva. They had spent the day interviewing anyone who might have information about Tony's disappearance, from Aunt Trudy's lawyer to those who attended the funeral, and turned up nothing. The Lead Investigator was tired and frustrated.
"Not a lot, Boss," McGee said with a sigh. "Evan Davenport is still our best suspect. Even though the entire estate was worth around twenty million dollars, his allowance will work out to a couple hundred thousand dollars a year. Not exactly the lifestyle he was accustomed to. With Tony out of the way, maybe he felt he could get a bigger cut of the inheritance."
"Anybody else turn up?" Gibbs questioned.
"Evan is engaged to Dr. Emily Anderson, a psychiatrist. She operates the Glenwood Psychiatric Hospital that specializes in treating acute mental disorders," McGee added. "I'm still looking into her."
Gibbs thought for a few minutes, "We need some way to get a warrant to search Davenport's house. I have a feeling Evan knows a lot more than he's letting on." He sighed. There was nothing else they could do tonight. "Listen, you two get some sleep; we'll start back in the morning. We're no good to Tony if we can't think straight."
The two agents glanced at each other in response to Gibb's soft tone, and reluctantly moved toward the door. "Don't worry, boss, we'll find him," McGee said, and Ziva nodded in agreement.
"Nothing will stop us from getting Tony back," she added firmly.
Gibbs smiled. "Go on," he said gently, touched by the concern for their partner. He already knew that neither agent would give up in the search for their friend.
The Lead Agent stared out the window as the sun set on another day. Another day that left him with no idea who was holding Tony, where, or what had been done to him. He knew that no matter what was happening with DiNozzo, the younger man would be waiting for Gibbs to find him. "My faithful Saint Bernard," he laughed at the memory.
The ex-marine wouldn't let Tony down; it would be like letting down his own flesh and blood. The older man wasn't sure exactly what connected him to the brash young Italian, but whatever it was ran strong and deep and would drive him to any means necessary to help DiNozzo. Silently, Gibbs willed his friend strength, and promised to make whoever was holding him pay a heavy price for what they were doing.
NCISNCISNCIS
When Tony woke this time, he was curled on his side in a tiny bed. The IV was gone, and he wasn't shivering anymore, although he still had a pounding headache. He also wasn't tied down, which was a huge improvement over the last couple of days.
Opening his eyes, he immediately jerked back, away from the face that was only inches from his own. "Who are you?" he asked thickly, his mouth still dry from all the medication they had been forcing into him.
The face smiled broadly. "Sammy. My name's Sammy. I'm your roommate. I haven't had a roommate in a long time, and it gets kind of lonely. I want to be your friend. Do you think we could be friends?" the man said quickly.
Tony nodded, "Yeah, Sammy, but slow down, ok? I just woke up and I'm not quite up to speed yet."
The federal agent pushed himself to the edge of the bed and waited for the world to stop spinning and settle down into images that didn't move. He absently reached up and rubbed his temple, gingerly moving along the stitches and large bump he found there. He noticed he had on pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, which was better than the hospital gown he was wearing earlier. He still didn't like the fact someone was dressing and undressing him, but at this point clothes were clothes. Sammy had moved over to sit on his own bed, legs tucked under his chin, observing Tony.
"You've been really tired," Sammy supplied. "And you talk in your sleep. You keep asking for somebody named Gibbs; who's that? Is he your Dad?" Sammy shook his head. "My Dad doesn't like me so much, that's why he left me here. He said he would come back and get me, but he never did." Sammy paused. "Did Gibbs leave you here?"
"No, Sammy, Gibbs is not my Dad, he's my….friend," Tony replied, realizing that didn't adequately describe his relationship with the crusty marine, but it was the best word he could come up with at the moment. "And he didn't leave me here. Actually, I'm pretty sure he's the one who'll come and get me," Tony explained to his roommate.
"Really? Maybe he'll take me, too. I hate being in the hospital," Sammy told him.
"What kind of hospital is this?" Tony asked. He needed as much information as possible if he planned on getting out of here anytime soon.
Sammy laughed. "It's the kind of hospital your family puts you in when they don't want to deal with you anymore. It's where you go for everyone to tell you you're crazy and then fill you up with pills that really do make you crazy. Welcome to the loony bin, Tony," he exclaimed with a wide smile.
Tony, holding his pounding head in his hands, stared up at the grinning man and thought, "My father always said I belonged in a mental institution."
The door opened and Sylvia walked in. "Well, I see sleeping beauty decided to rejoin the land of the living," she declared sarcastically. Tony tried to bat her away as she started checking his pupil reaction and temperature.
"Don't touch me," he demanded. "I'm fine, just a headache, and I don't need any help from you people."
She stood back and placed her hands on her broad hips. "Let's get one thing straight here, Mr. Harrington. We decide if you're fine or not. You decide nothing. The fact you are incapable of making sound decisions is why you're in here to begin with. Now, I'm going to finish checking your vitals and you are not going to argue with me," she directed with a glare almost worthy of Gibbs himself.
Tony shook his head, despite the sharp pain that shot through his brain. "I have been trying to tell you, my name is not Harrington. My name is Anthony DiNozzo, and I am a federal agent. You cannot hold me here against my will. I demand a phone call immediately," Tony said forcefully. He stared up at the nurse, what was her name? Ratchet? He smiled to himself at the One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest reference.
"I don't know what you're grinning at, Mr. Harrington, but you were signed into this facility by your brother, who is also your legal guardian. At this time, every aspect of your care has been given to us. And that does not include making phone calls to imaginary people," she responded. "Now, if you don't cooperate, I can have you restrained again. Is that what you want?"
Sammy walked over, "You better do what she says, Tony. She means business."
Sylvia smiled at the small man, "Thank you, Sammy. You've learned to be a very good patient."
"Thank you," he said with a shy smile.
Without another word, Sylvia took Tony's blood pressure and pulse. "Everything's still elevated, undoubtedly because of all the arguing you've been doing. Rest tonight and tomorrow I'll let you out in the dayroom," she said cheerfully.
Tony gazed at her furiously, "Do not call me Harrington again, that's not my name and I don't have a brother. I don't know what game you guys are playing here, but I'm damn well not going to let you keep me here and shuffle me off to the dayroom!" He stood, a little shakily, but began to walk forward. These people were really starting to piss him off.
Sammy watched in fear. The nurse drew herself up to her full height while in her pocket she pushed a button to call security. "Stop, Mr. Harrington. You need to sit back down," she said, stepping in front of him.
Tony was growing angrier by the minute. His fury seemed to drive the drugs from his system; he began to think more clearly. The entire situation was ridiculous. He might act a bit weird sometimes, but there was absolutely nothing mentally wrong with him and he refused to be treated like a crazy person. "I am a damn federal agent!" he yelled. "Not a fucking girl scout! Do not tell me to sit down!"
Sammy drew back on his bed as Doctor Anderson and two large orderlies entered the room. "Mr. Harrington is getting quite agitated," Sylvia told the doctor, glancing back at the seething patient. "I can't convince him to calm down."
Tony ran his hands through his hair, the result making him appear even wilder. "I do not need to calm down!" he shouted. "I need to make a damn phone call!"
One of the orderlies approached Tony cautiously. At a nod from Sylvia, he grabbed Tony's wrists and painfully twisted them behind him. Tony kicked the man in the knee and sent him toward the floor with a yelp. The second orderly moved in and grabbed DiNozzo by the hair, pushing Tony up against the wall, so he was unable to move. The first orderly moved back in, pulling Tony's arms tightly behind his back. Unfortunately, after several days in bed, DiNozzo was too physically weak to put up much of a fight. As the young man squirmed, he found his face smashed into the concrete. Doctor Anderson produced a bottle of medication and a hypodermic needle, which she quickly filled. "Don't get too rough," she commanded the employees as they continued to subdue the fighting man.
"You don't have to drug me every time I say something you don't agree with. It's not like a drinking game or something," Tony said caustically, his eyes never leaving the doctor's movements. He was still not over the last round of medication she had given him; he definitely didn't want to be sedated again.
Tony continued to struggle, but couldn't prevent the doctor from deftly plunging the needle into his forearm. DiNozzo flinched, and immediately felt his body weaken even more, his muscles no longer obeying his commands. "I'm here to help you, Anthony," the beautiful woman said while she patted the back of his neck affectionately, "but you have to let me."
The Senior Field Agent felt his legs go out from under him. Before the patient collapsed entirely, the orderlies led the man back to bed while Sylvia placed him under the covers. Tony blinked rapidly at them and tried to form an argument, but could get nothing past the thick fog that blanketed his mind.
Emily bent over the young man. "I don't want to do this to you, Anthony, but you have to understand who is in charge, and it isn't you," she purred, tilting his chin up with her hand. His dark green eyes tried to focus with no success.
"My boss….is gonna….kick your ass," DiNozzo managed to slur out as he watched her walk across the floor.
Dr. Anderson stopped at the door and turned toward him to laugh. "Oh, Anthony. I'm going to show you that you have a new boss, now," a bright smile lit her face. "Goodnight," she said, shutting the door.
Sammy watched the entire scene unfold. Rocking back and forth, he repeated, "I told you to do what she says. You'll learn to do what she says." The man seemed to have retreated into his own world, where he laughed every so often and mumbled to himself.
A paralyzing fear gripped Tony as his mind started racing on its own accord. What if no one knew he was here? What if they didn't care? Maybe they were glad he was gone; McGee and Ziva always complained about how annoying he was anyway. Who put him in here? Was it his father? Was it Gibbs? Gibbs wouldn't do this to him, would he? Gibbs cared about him, right? The boss didn't think he was crazy, did he? Then why doesn't he come get me out?
"Because he isn't even real," Dr. Anderson's soft voice whispered back to him. "I'm your boss now, Anthony."
The list of questions rolled on and on, beyond his control to stop them. DiNozzo didn't know how long he lay there trying to shut down the words and phrases that randomly shot through his addled mind. "Please come get me, Gibbs," he finally begged silently, as he curled up on his side and stared at his clearly mad roommate through the rails of the bed. "Please make this stop."
The field agent finally fell asleep to the sound of Sammy's laughter.