Title: It started with a sneeze 03

Author: Ceindreadh
Permission to archive: Yes to WWOMB, anybody else, please ask first.
Genre (general, hetero or slash): Slash
Pairing/Characters: Gibbs/Tony, team
Rating: T/PG-15
Summary: Post Scene to Model Behavior. What if it wasn't the flowers that made Tony sneeze

Warnings: SLASH. Set mid way through S3.
Disclaimer. I don't own the NCIS characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.

Previously on NCIS - Tony started feeling ill on his way home from work. He passed out on the couch and it wasn't until the next day when his absence was noticed and Gibbs went to see what was wrong.

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Tony nodded, his energy sapped by even the brief conversation. Gibbs was here and all would be right with the world.

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Part 03

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Gibbs grabbed a cushion from the couch and placed it carefully under Tony's head. He removed his jacket and draped it over Tony to keep him warm. "Don't move," he ordered the younger agent, before stepping into the hallway and phoning the NCIS morgue.

"Ducky!" barked Gibbs into the phone. "I need you to come over to Tony's apartment. He's sick. It looks like the flu, but he won't let me bring him to the hospital."

"Well normally a dose of the flu wouldn't require hospitalization, but in Tony's case, it might be an advisable precaution."

Gibbs leaned against the wall, rubbing his head. "I got him to agree to let you take a look at him, if you think he needs to be admitted, then he'll do it."

"And do you *want* me to have him admitted?"

Gibbs stifled a sigh, "I want what's best for Tony," he said quietly.

"Physically or emotionally? You know as well as I do Jethro, that sometimes that's not the same thing."

"Just get over here, Ducky, now."

"All right, Jethro. Keep Tony warm and comfortable until I get there."

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As Gibbs returned to the living room, he saw Tony on his hands and knees and trying to stand. "Whoa there, Tony." Gibbs caught Tony, as he was about to fall over. "You shouldn't be moving." He lowered Tony onto the couch. "Ducky will be here as soon as he can." Gibbs was half tempted to just tell Tony that Ducky had said to go straight to the hospital, but he'd seen the way Tony had looked when he'd mentioned hospitals before...and besides, he'd agreed that he'd wait for Ducky's assessment...and Gibbs wouldn't go back on his word.

"Thirsty," mumbled Tony as he twisted on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

"I'll get you something to drink." Gibbs moved quickly into the small kitchenette, grabbing a glass from the rack and filling it under the tap before returning to Tony.
"Take small sips," he ordered as he held the glass to Tony's lips.

Either Tony didn't hear, or he was too thirsty to heed Gibbs's instructions, because he tried to gulp the water down his parched throat. Unfortunately, a spasm of coughing hit him as he was trying to drink, and he coughed and spluttered the water back up, spilling it onto his chest. The coughing refused to subside and Tony felt a wave of panic come over him. He coughed and wheezed and tried desperately to force the air into his lungs. The room spun around him, and for a minute he was back in isolation, his lips turning blue, and with each spasm that wracked his body, sure that it would be the end of him.

And then there was Gibbs, his voice a calming beacon through Tony's panic. As authoritative now as it had been then, ordering Tony to breathe, to live...calming him, soothing him.

Tony sucked in a lungful of air, realizing as he did that it wasn't as painful as it had been a few minutes earlier.

"In through the nose and out through the mouth, DiNozzo." Gibbs's voice sounded as if it was coming from a long way away. But when Tony sucked in his next noseful of air, it brought with it the scent of coffee and sawdust and when he opened his eyes, he realized that he was slumped against Gibbs, his head resting on his boss's chest. Beneath his cheek, Tony could feel a heart pounding in echo to his own.

Tony made as if to sit up, but was too exhausted to move more than a few inches.

"Don't try to move." Gibbs's voice broke through the haze of Tony's thoughts. "Just get your breath back properly."

"Co...cold," mumbled Tony, only now aware of the chill seeping through his body. He looked down at his chest, surprised to find his shirt soaking wet. "Boss?"

"You were supposed to drink the water, not wear it."

Tony tried to laugh but his ribs were still aching from the coughing fit and it ended up as a groan. He closed his eyes again wanting to just bury himself until the pain eased.

"Don't go passing out on me now, Tony," said Gibbs. "I need to get you out of those wet clothes."

"DiNozzo's don't pass out," mumbled Tony, but he didn't resist as Gibbs helped him stand and then half led, half carried him to the bedroom where he was lowered gently to the bed.

Gibbs looked down at Tony on the bed. He was more worried than he would ever admit to the man. Gibbs had faced down terrorists, serial killers, even divorce attorneys, but seeing Tony struggle for breath earlier...he hadn't felt fear like that in a long time. He cursed under his breath, wishing that he'd overruled Tony before and simply carted him off to hospital. But even in his weakened state, Tony had been so adamant about not wanting to go there and Gibbs wasn't about to go back on his word.

"I know you don't wear pajamas, but do you even own a pair?" asked Gibbs as he started pulling open drawers. He finally found a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, which would have to do. Grabbing a towel from the ensuite bathroom, Gibbs quickly stripped off Tony's wet clothes, toweling him dry before redressing him. He worked as quickly as he could, but Tony was still shivering when Gibbs rolled him under the covers and tucked the bedclothes snugly around him.

Gibbs sat down on the bed beside Tony and put his hand on his forehead. The skin was still hot, but Gibbs didn't think it was any hotter than it had been earlier. That was a good sign he guessed, but he'd be a lot happier once Ducky was there.

"So does this...does this mean you've changed your mind?" Tony asked.

"About what?" Gibbs let his hand wander down to Tony's neck to check on his rapidly beating pulse.

"About..." Tony coughed, but fortunately it was just a single cough and he continued talking, "About taking me to hospital..."

"I said I'd let Ducky make the call...but Tony, after what happened earlier. Why won't you even consider it? Okay, hospital beds aren't as comfortable, and the food is crap. But you'll have round the clock care and plenty of pretty nurses to annoy." Gibbs remembered what Tony had said earlier, "That's got to be better than a prison surely."

Tony shook his head, "Being locked up...hospital or a jail cell...I couldn't...couldn't just walk out...but when Fornell had me...had me in custody...I knew, I just *knew* that you'd get me out of there sooner or later. I knew you'd do whatever it took to save me..." He looked away from Gibbs, "But when I was sick in hospital...bugs and germs and stuff like that...you can't order them not to hurt me...you can't intimidate them into submission..."

"Look at me Tony." Gibbs waited until Tony made eye contact with him. "I ordered you not to die, didn't I?"

Tony managed a half smile before continuing, "In the hospital...not while I was still infectious, but after...afterwards. It was like being in a zoo...everybody wanted a piece of the guy who'd beat the plague...I was like a lab rat Gibbs, they stuck me like a pincushion, and I can't...I won't let them lock me up again, please Gibbs, don't let them..."

"Shhh, take it easy, Tony." Gibbs stroked the side of Tony's face to calm him down, just like he'd done for Kelly when she was a baby. "Ducky will be here in a little while and we'll see what he says, okay? Just relax and sleep." He kept talking until Tony's eyes closed and his breathing slowed to a gentle rhythm.

Gibbs grabbed his phone and dialed Ducky again.

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To be continued