Title: General Orders
Word Count:
Rating: PG-13 to be safe, for slight language.
Characters: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Hurt!Tony, Family Dynamic (Team as Family)
Spoilers: Mentions of SWAK, Twilight
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just like to borrow 'em every now and then. Especially Tony. Yum.
Summary: A (not-so)random attack on a Georgetown street leaves Tony fighting for his life and Gibbs and the team at a loss for what to do.
A/N: As a thank you for the reviews and comments I've received in reference to this story, this chapter is a little longer than the last two. I apologize if there are excessive spelling/grammatical errors, as it's 2:10 in the morning and I just finished writing this lol. As always, I hope you enjoy and remember, comments are ALWAYS appreciated =D Plus, they help me write faster ;)
Part Three
"Doctor Mallard?" Three heads turned simultaneously at the sound of the voice. "I have an update on Agent DiNozzo. Is this everyone?"
"It is now," Gibbs said as he stepped past the doctor. "Get on with it, doc. How's he doing?"
"Right," the doctor began, clearly flustered by the fact that the fourth man had appeared apparently out of thin air behind him, "we've got him resting as comfortably as possible and within the next ten minutes, we're going to start accepting visitors."
"Is he awake?" Abby asked.
"No," the doctor responded with a shake of his head, "and that's not unusual in cases like this, so it's not a cause for worry just yet. A lot of times in trauma cases, the victims just simply aren't going to wake up until their brain feels like it can handle and process the attack."
"But he's doing okay, right?" It was McGee's turn to inquire.
"As well as can be expected after everything he's been through. Like I told Doctor Mallard a little earlier, he came through the surgery just fine. The knife caused quite a bit of damage but we were able to correct that fairly easy. Our main concern now is the infection. His temperature is up a little more than we'd like, but we've started him on antibiotics and I'm confident that we can get the fever under control."
The doctor turned at the sound of someone calling his voice from the hallway, and with a nod, he turned back to the group. "I'm being told he's ready to start accepting visitors. Unfortunately, being that it's the intensive care unit, we have to limit the number of visitors to one at time, but please, feel free to take as long as you need. I know today has been rough on all of you," he said with a sympathetic smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have a few more rounds to make, but should you have any questions that Doctor Mallard is unable to answer, just have the girls at the desk page me."
"Back in five," Gibbs called over his shoulder, already on his way out the door.
"Well that's not fair," Abby pouted, glaring at Gibbs' retreating back. "Why does he get to go first? I was going to ask if I could go first!"
"I would venture a guess that Jethro is anxious to see that young Anthony is, in fact, still among the living for himself before he returns to D.C. to launch a full blown investigation."
"Investigation? Into what? Georgetown PD said it was a random mugging."
"Yes, that's quite true, Timothy, but you don't really think Jethro is going to trust someone else to find the assailant, do you?"
"You definitely have a point there. God help them when Gibbs finds out who it was."
"Ah yes. However, unfortunately for them, I do not think even the Good Lord would be able to save them."
--
Gibbs heard the quiet beeping of the machines as he stepped into the room, the noise being the only indicator that the man on the bed belonged here rather than a cold slab in the morgue. He hated how still DiNozzo was; it was wrong. This man was energetic, to the point of being down right annoying at times, and to see him like this… well, it was uncomfortable.
It reminded him too much of the last time. The only difference then was at least DiNozzo's raspy breathing was an indication that he was still among the living.
"Only you, DiNozzo," Gibbs said with a sigh as he looked his senior field agent over from head to toe. His coloring was bad; more grey than the tan, and there was a slight sheen of sweat across his forehead. It was to be expected, given how much blood the younger man had lost in the attack, but it was still unsettling, like one of those creepy wax figures in that museum that ex-wife number three had ranted and raved about.
DiNozzo would have fit right in with those Christina Spears and Fates Children displays. Or whatever the hell they were called. He stepped further into the room, coming to a stop at the side of the bed. He leaned over, careful of the million tubes and wires jutting out in all different directions and spoke softly. "I will find out who did this to you and I will make them pay. You have my word," he vowed. Reaching up carefully, he rested a large, calloused hand to the young man's forehead and sighed as he felt the warmth radiating from his skin. "You hang in there, DiNozzo. I'm not done with you yet."
~*~
"Thank you very much for your cooperation."
"It's not a problem, Officer David. If there is anything else I can do for you, please, don't hesitate to call," he said with a smile.
Stepping out of the apartment complex, Ziva lifted the bag higher on her shoulder and slid her sunglasses on as the warm afternoon sun filtered down through the trees. From where she stood, she could clearly see the historic blue Mustang parked down the street, the remnants of police caution tape still visible in the bushes along the edge of the sidewalk.
The Georgetown Police Department had been kind enough to supply her with a courtesy copy of the police report taken that morning. It was, as Officer Burke told her, considered a pretty open-and-shut case. There had been no eye-witnesses to the incident, and unless Tony was able to identify his assailant when he came out of surgery, there was nothing more to be done. They simply did not have the resources or man power to conduct an all out, in depth investigation.
And apparently, they had not had the same training that she had had while working under Gibbs. It had not taken a rocket scientist to figure out that the apartment complex where Tony was last seen had video surveillance. Perhaps the outside cameras had managed to capture something, anything, that could be used to identify Tony's attacker.
Pulling out her cell phone as she crossed the street to her vehicle, she dialed the number she had memorized from the phone book the building manager had lent her. "Yes, is this the Corkran Brothers towing service? I need a tow truck to the fifteen hundred block of West Cherry street for a 1965 Mustang, blue in color, Washington D.C registration Zulu hotel delta three six five… Yes, I would like it towed to thirty-two zero three Windom place northwest, Washington D.C… I do not care how much it costs. Yes, I will hold."
Unlocking her doors, she slipped her bag into the front seat before she dug her wallet out of the front pocket. "Yes, I am still here… Very good. You accept credit cards, yes?" As she read off the number to the man on the other end of the line, she felt her eyes drift to Tony's vehicle. She had not been asked to have the vehicle removed from the Georgetown street where it currently sat, but his Mustang was his pride and joy and she felt like she knew her partner enough to know that he would not approve of his 'baby' just sitting on a random street.
Once arrangements had been made for the vehicle, she climbed from her car and headed into the small diner that sat directly in front of the scene. Pulling the heavy door open, she slipped inside, badge already in hand.
"Can I help you, miss?" The elderly gentleman behind the counter asked.
"Yes sir," she said with a slight smile. "I am Officer David with NCIS."
"That anything like CSI?"
She could not contain the quiet chuckle that escaped her. "We are similar, I suppose."
"You workin' on a big crime?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
"I'm a big fan of CSI. How can I help ya, honey?"
"There was a j—mugging that occurred across the street this morning. I noticed, when I drove past, the tiny camera that is perched outside the door. I was wondering if perhaps there was a way I could obtain a copy?"
"Had to get that thing installed because of the damned kids that run up and down this street in the evenings. Little brats busted out my wind'a a time or two. Come on back and we'll see if we can't get'cha whatcha need."
--
One hour and two surveillance tapes later, she found herself on her way back to the agency, trying desperately to think of anything other than Tony. Perhaps she had been wrong to leave the hospital before getting a status update, but she simply could not sit there any longer. She had never been the type of person to sit around and do nothing, instead preferring to have a task, any task to keep her mind off of the situation at hand.
What better way to spend her time than tracking down the person who had put her partner in the hospital? Pulling into the parking garage of the agency, she threw the car into park before grabbing her bag out of the front seat. She had just climbed out of the car when the sound of footsteps behind her caused her turn, her hand immediately coming to a rest on the gun at her side.
"Hey Ziva," Agent Johnson called, a sympathetic smile on his face. "How's DiNozzo?"
"I do not know."
"You didn't go to the hospital?"
"I did not stay long. Work does not stop just because a teammate is injured," she said, and immediately cursed herself for her words. No wonder Abby believed her to be cold and uncaring. She could read from Johnson's face that he had come to the same conclusion.
"Oh. Right… well listen, if you hear from McGee, let him know that the new software just came in and he can come get it whenever he gets a chance."
"Of course," she said with a nod. Annoyed with herself for her callous words regarding her partner, she brushed past Johnson and hurried to the entrance, praying that she would find the bullpen empty so she would not have to endure the incredulous stares at her presence or the questions about Tony's condition that she could not answer.
~*~
McGee had hoped, after the plague, that he'd never have to see Tony like this again. And yet here he was, slouched in the uncomfortable plastic chair alongside the uncomfortable looking hospital bed, wishing that Tony would just wake up and hurl an insult at him. Anything would be better than this.
It was the stillness that bothered him the most. Tony was such a lively person, always so animated. To see him lying in the hospital, hooked up to a crazy number of machines that were very possibly the only things keeping him alive… it was disturbing. It bothered him more than he would ever admit to anyone, because while they could all end in the very same position on any given day with their line of work, it felt wrong that it was Tony.
It was worse that it wasn't even a work related incident that had landed him here, because really? Who would actually want to hurt DiNozzo? Sure, he was a pain in the ass on most days, and he had probably broken the hearts of a few hundred women, but Tony was a good guy. He was loyal to his friends, and even though they irritated the hell out of each other on some days, McGee was positive that there wasn't a single thing in the world Tony wouldn't do for him.
Picking up the discarded magazine from the small table, he sank back in the uncomfortable plastic chair and thumbed through it. He wasn't sure what to say, not that he was good with words anyway, and besides, he didn't even know if Tony could hear him so really, what was the point?
But still, he sat and waited, because if knew if the roles were reversed, he was positive that Tony would be doing the same thing for him.
~*~
"Busy day Officer David?" She did not bother to glance up at the sound of his voice. She had heard him coming and she had felt his penetrating stare on her back as he had stepped out of the elevator. He had not been happy when she had left the hospital, but she did not care. She could not simply sit and twinkle her thumbs… wait a minute… that did not sound right…
Regardless, she could not sit and do nothing, even if her departure had left her coworkers angry for seemingly abandoning them… and Tony.
"I suppose one could say that," she responded coolly.
"Yeah? You had better hope so. Because I called the director and he couldn't seem to remember calling you back here for a case."
"There were things that needed to be done."
"Things more important than being there for your team when they need you?"
"They did not need me. I would have been of no use to anyone at the hospital. I am not good with things like that, Gibbs."
"You should have stuck around out of respect for Tony."
"My leaving had nothing to do with a lack of respect for Tony."
"So what did it have to do with?"
"I was needed here."
"By who exactly, Ziva?"
She stood up, slamming her hand down on the desk. "By me, Gibbs! I needed to be here! I needed to have something to do other than just sit around and wait for… for whatever was going to happen to happen!" Kicking her chair back with more force than necessary, she stormed out of the bullpen.
~*~
"So anyway, we're bowling the last frame, and keep in mind, that other team is leading us by one stinkin' point, and of course, it had to be Sister Rosita's turn. I swear, Tony, it doesn't matter how many lessons you give her to help her with her form, she's just terrible but I'm pretty sure that God wouldn't be too happy if we fired her from the team, you know?"
"Miss Scuito?"
Glancing up at the sound of her voice, Abby turned her head and offered the nurse a bright smile. "I'm sorry, am I in your way?"
"I just need to check his lines," she explained with a smile. "If I can just squeeze in here for a second…"
"Sure, sure," Abby said before she turned back to Tony, squeezing his hand gently. "I'll be right back, Tony. Nurse Amy is just going to check you out real quick, okay? I know you're anxious to hear how Sister Rosita did, and I promise I'll finish telling you in just a minute," she said before she scooted back in the plastic chairs. "He's all yours, Nurse Amy."
"Thank you," she said as she stepped closer to the bed. "Tony?" She called quietly, keeping her voice pleasant, "I'm just going to check your lines, sweetheart." Amy worked quickly with nimble fingers, though she frowned at the heat radiating from his skin. "I think your temperature's up a little, honey," she said, her hand coming to a rest on his forehead.
"Is he okay?"
"He feels a little warmer than earlier so I'm going to turn the cooling blanket back on. Tony, you're going to feel a little cold, but it's okay. I'm going to turn your cooling blanket back on so we can keep this fever down."
Pushing the buttons to the machine that was hooked to the cooling blankets, she set the temperature and then turned to Abby. "He's all yours again," she said with a smile. "I'll be back in an hour to check and see how he's doing. If you need anything before then, just give me a yell."
"Will do. Thank you Nurse Amy." She waited until the pretty brunette had stepped out the room before she turned back to her unconscious friend. "You might be all mine right now, but I have a feeling if you saw her, you'd want to be all hers. You really should wake up and see for yourself Tony," she suggested, as she scooted closer, grasping his hand in hers again.
"No? Okay, but I'm telling you, you're going to be kicking yourself if she's off duty when you wake up. I'm pretty sure you'd be able to score a number. Anyway, back to Sister Rosita…"
~*~
"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" Gibbs asked as Ziva returned to the bullpen. She ignored him as she bent over her desk, gathering the sheets of paper that littered the space.
"These," she said, slamming the information onto Gibbs' desk, "are Tony's phone records. The number highlighted at the top is the person he was speaking to at the time of the attack. Allyson Marshall, age 32, a little older than what Tony usually goes for, but she is a blonde, which makes her mental age fall into the correct category. No criminal history, but no family history listed either. A request for bank statements has been made, I am just waiting on the fax now."
"What else?"
"I am thinking that the Marshall name is an alias. She recently moved to the area from the eastern shore. I have put in a call to a contact there to see if they have any information on her that might be of some use. Also, I made contact with Marshall's place of employment, she did not turn up for work today as scheduled. The building manager has been advised to contact me directly should she return to the apartment. I had Lewis downstairs attempt to get a location on her cell phone, but apparently she has it turned off."
"You think she's involved?"
"She was on the phone with Tony at the moment of the attack. Dispatch records from Georgetown Police indicate that she did not place a call to report it."
"You got a copy of that report?"
"As well as the photos from the scene," she confirmed, grabbing the report from her desk before handing it over. "I also made contact with the building manager of the complex as well as shop owner across the street from where it occurred and I was able to obtain copies of surveillance footage. McGee or Abby will need to enhance the quality of the videos, as there is not a clear shot of the attacker's face. I am confident, however, that once the quality is enhanced and we are able to zoom in, we will be able to identify him or her."
"That's good work Ziva."
"Also… out of respect for Tony, I had his vehicle returned home. I thought perhaps he may rest easier if he knew it was back where it belonged."
~*~
"Doctor Mallard? Could you come with me please?"
Glancing up from the magazine he had been thumbing through, Ducky put the tabloid aside and stood, frowning slightly. "I trust whatever you're to tell me would be something I should relay to the others, so perhaps it would just be easiest if you allowed Timothy to tag along now?"
Looking down at the younger man who still sat, eyes wide with fear, the doctor nodded. "Very well," he said with a quiet sigh. "With me, please." He led the two men out into the hallway before the turned the corridor for the intensive care unit.
From the hallway outside of Tony's room, McGee could see Abby sitting alongside the pale Italian, her fingers intertwined with his as a nurse mopped his forehead gently. Even from where he stood, he could see the flush of Tony's cheeks, the way his hair was matted down with sweat and water and he knew, in the pit of his stomach, that whatever the doctor had brought them here for, it could not be good.
"He is not responding to the antibiotics we've put him on. We're going to try a different set and up the dose, but the fever is very worrisome right now. His temperature is up to 103.1, which as you know, is very dangerous in adults."
"What does that—?" Before McGee could finish his question, a loud beeping sounded from Tony's room, followed by Abby's hoarse cry.
"Doctor Bair!" Nurse Amy shouted from the room. "Doctor Bair, he's convulsing!"
Several nurses brushed passed as Doctor Bair hurried into the room. Seconds later, a sobbing Abby was ushered out by a sympathetic nurse before the door was shut and the curtains were drawn.
"Ducky!" Abby cried as she launched herself into McGee's arms. He wrapped himself around her, pressing what he hoped to be a comforting kiss to the top of her head, despite the tears prickling in his own eyes. "Ducky, what do we do?"
"I think, my dear, that we should call Jethro and Ziva," he said gravely.
~*~
Standing up at the quiet beeping of the fax machine, Ziva stifled a yawn and refrained from cracking her tired bones. It had been a long, stressful day and she was finally beginning to feel the effects of it as night fell over Washington.
Hands resting gently against the machine, she closed her eyes and allowed her head to droop forward just an inch as she drew in a deep breath, rolling her shoulders a bit to relieve the tension. At the end of the bullpen, she could hear Agent Lewis' fingers tapping quietly on the McGee's keyboard as he attempted to enhance the video quality from the surveillance footage. Gibbs, in an uncharacteristic act of kindness, had opted to call Lewis upstairs rather than bring McGee or Abby back from the hospital.
"Have you got a clear picture yet?" She asked over her shoulder as she pulled the papers from the fax machine before she sank back down into her chair.
"Not yet," he said with a sigh. "Someone needs to tell these guys that their cameras are crap. And McGee really needs to get the new photo enhancement software updated on his computer. This crap he's running is so last year."
"I will be sure to pass along the message," she responded wryly as she brought her hands up to rub her tired face before she attempted to glance down at the information her contact on the eastern shore had sent to her.
Just as she had suspect, the name Allyson Marshall had been an alias. The witch's real name was Penny Elzey, she discovered, age 34. Still, even under the Elzey name, she had no criminal history, save for a few traffic violations and an unpaid parking ticket. It was hardly anything to call the press about. Grabbing the page on family history, she scanned the names of her parents before she came to a rest on her brother.
Elzey, James Michael. Incarcerated at Jessup Correction Institution (1999; case number 1F000384728); Deceased.
Plugging in the case number to the computer system, she didn't have to scan long until she found what she was looking for.
Case Number 1F000384728
Arresting Officer: Det. Anthony DiNozzo, Baltimore Police Department; Homicide Division
"Uh… Ziva? You might want to take a look at this," Lewis said as he glanced over at her.
"No time for that," Gibbs announced as he hurried back into the bullpen. "Get your stuff, Ziva."
"Gibbs, this is important--!"
"So is this. DiNozzo went into convulsions ten minutes ago. They're still working on him. Duck says we need to get there now."
"Agent Lewis, fax that photograph to the Georgetown Police along with the information on my desk. Have them go out to her building and you tell them to grab her when she comes in. They can hold her in their interrogation until we get there," Ziva called as she sprinted towards the elevator. "You are mine now, you bitch."
