A/N: Hey guys, I'm sorry it took me longer to get this one out to you. Writer's Block knocked on my door and when I let it in, it ate all of my food and demanded that I go out and buy it a comfy couch so it could stay for a while. Anyway, this one is a lot shorter and it didn't come out the way I expected it to but I hope it'll be alright. I really do appreciate the time that you take to review my story and I appreciate you staying with me throughout the duration of it. :D You're all amazing XD.
Chapter 3
"It has been said that time heals all wounds. I do not agree. The wounds remain.
In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue, and the pain lessens, but it is never gone." Rose Kennedy
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Was his alarm going off?
Oh crap! He was going to be late for school, again! Mrs. Johnston was seriously going to kill him this time!
He tried to jump out of bed but was unsuccessful. Something was tying him down and he couldn't move; his head was restricted and it felt like his body was encased in one of those straight jackets.
Surreptitiously, he shifted his eyes around the room to try to determine where he was.
Beep.
Beep.
He really needed to turn that damn alarm clock off.
Okay, so where am I? He didn't recognize this to be his room. There were no posters on the walls, in fact there were no shelves and the walls were painted in just a simple white.
Hmm…
All of a sudden, the distinct smell of antiseptic hit him and came to the logical conclusion that he was in a hospital.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Argh! That was getting annoying. How did they expect him to sleep if they kept turning his alarm—oh!
Heart monitors? He looked down and noticed various tubes and lines running back and forth connecting him to multiple machines and IV poles.
Images of lying on the floor in his own pool of blood exploded before his mind's eye. He remembered feeling intense pain and that he couldn't do anything to stop it.
He groaned as he tried to lift himself up into a sitting position.
"Welcome back, Anthony. How are you feeling?" A very nice looking nurse said softly as she proceeded to walk over and check his vitals.
"Um," Tony's voice cracked as his throat was dry and his lips parched. The nurse promptly picked up a cup of water off of his bedside table and brought it to his lips.
"Okay, I guess. I've felt worse." He said softly after he had taken a long draw from the cup. Tony flashed her his famous grin as if to emphasize his point.
She raised an eyebrow at him and he slumped further down in his bed.
"Anthony," she started.
"Tony, please ma'am."
"Tony, I want you to rest and I don't want you getting out of that bed, do you understand?" she said this kindly but Tony understood that if he didn't obey she would not hesitate to forcibly make him.
"Yes." Suddenly, making his lips form words was getting to be too much effort.
"You go to sleep and I'll wake you up for dinner later, okay? Oh and my name is Kim so if you need anything just ask."
Tony simply nodded as his eyelids drooped and he slipped back to sleep.
He awoke a few hours later, not at all surprised that there was nobody sitting in the chair waiting for him.
He glanced around the dark room and tried to figure out how he could get out. He hated hospitals; he was only eleven, but it definitely wasn't the first time he had been admitted.
Nurse Kim entered his room a few moments later carrying a tray that presumably held his sad excuse for a dinner.
"I hope you're feeling better Tony." She said sweetly.
"Uh, yes I am actually." Tony lied. The nurse placed his tray on the bedside table next to him so he could easily access it.
"I notified your next of kin, your father, that you were here with us, but he said that he was out of town and unfortunately couldn't change his flight."
"Oh, that's alright." Tony said with a smile, he knew that his father would act as if his son were the best thing since sliced bread if someone asked about him. That is, presuming that they even knew he existed. "He's really busy, I wouldn't expect him to come flying back here just for me."
After all didn't he just leave Tony to bleed out on the cold floor just hours ago?
"Alright, well I brought you an extra pudding cup," she winked at him "And make sure to press that button if you need me for anything, okay?"
"Yup." Tony replied softly as he reached across, albeit painfully, to retrieve his food.
He had been in that hospital for a week. His battered body took its sweet time healing and one of his cuts got infected. He wasn't all too happy about staying but he had no other choice.
He glanced up to look at Elliot who was watching him closely. He felt sorry for the poor guy; he was probably ruining his night with his less than stellar childhood stories.
Oh well.
He had lied earlier when he told Elliot that he didn't know what his father had done after he lost consciousness the first time. He knew exactly what happened; his father probably poured himself yet another drink and contentedly left Tony lying there knowing he wouldn't have to deal with any more 'weakness and failure' for the rest of the night.
"Did he ever come back to pick you up when he got back?" Elliot asked, pure concern dotting his features.
Tony chuckled, "He never actually went out of town, El." He paused and let Elliot mull that over for a moment.
"And no, he didn't. He sent the chef to come and get me, which was better than nothing I guess."
"And he wasn't even the slightest bit happy with the fact that you were okay?" Elliot asked once again.
Tony shook his head, the poor kid looked like he was about to cry. He should really stop throwing all this heavy stuff at him.
"Nah…..he didn't acknowledge me till he 'needed' me later that night." Oops.
That one hadn't meat to slip past his lips.
Elliot gasped and his brow furrowed realizing that Tony's father had beat him nearly to death on the same day he returned from the hospital.
The man, whom Tony had been paying no attention to since he arrived, beside him started to shift his weight and Tony could feel the anger that was suddenly radiating off of him.
Tony wasn't even talking to this man, why would he be angry all of a sudden? He should tell him to go mind his business.
Yeah.
"Excuse me…do you have a prob—" Oh, shit!
It couldn't be enough that he had already spilled his guts to a stranger. And it couldn't be enough that all of his emotions had been out on display, his mask having been haphazardly tossed to the side.
No, it apparently wasn't enough, because now he realized that he was staring into the face of the one person he didn't want to know.
Gibbs.
Wonder-fucking-full.
He sighed and turned to his bourbon; the same drink he had been nursing for hours because he didn't want to drink any more.
And he downed it.
