It's been five days and Gibbs has a beard. Ducky's worried, because Gibbs doesn't really speak to anyone, not even him, and the nurses throw concerned looks at him whenever they pass, and Gibbs doesn't really seem to care. Ducky's tried to take care of all of them, but he's seen the injuries without the bandages and for the first time in his life, *he* was the one to hurry out of the room and vomit in a sink until there was nothing left. Ducky's stomach clenches tight at the memories and his eyes searches for a sink...just in case. He knows the doctors are cautiously optimistic unless there's an infection, but Ducky's still not sure. He pretends for the others, because they all fall apart in front of his eyes and he can't stand the pain in their eyes when they look at him, praying that he's bringing them good news. So Ducky does. Small observations, little lies, he'd rather they hope than be lost, and he justifies it to himself. He doesn't mind if they hate him if Tony dies, because seeing their pain lessen just a little makes him happy, because *he* did that, *he* brought the good news, even though Tony's condition's the same as when they finished cleaning his wounds and wrapping him in bandages before placing him on a ventilator and sterilizing the room.
"Doctor Mallard?" a nurse asks and Ducky tears his eyes away from Gibbs. "There's a lot of staff that's worried about Agent Gibbs...he seems almost catatonic. Is there something we don't know about him and Agent DiNozzo? It might make a difference if we knew what we're dealing with," she tries to be gentle but Ducky can't help but think that the nurses will gossip, and someone will be against Gibbs and Tony's love, so he doesn't answer at first. "They're lovers, am I correct?" she asks, she seems to understand why he hesitates, and Ducky nods because he really can't lie. It's just too obvious when he watches Gibbs's haunted look whenever someone passes him out of Tony's room and tells him that Tony's still alive. "Thank you Doctor Mallard," she says and walks away. Ducky's still looking at Gibbs, and then the nurse returns with a tray of food, and two other nurses are bringing in a comfortable leather chair. "Stand," the nurse says to Gibbs and surprisingly he does. The chair is changed out with the more comfortable one, and the nurse pushes Gibbs back in the chair. "You will eat this food, he's going to need a lot of help when he's better," she serves Gibbs a tray of food and there's tea on the tray along with juice and some light food. It makes Ducky want to cry, because he hasn't been able to comfort Gibbs, the one who truly needs it because he's all alone and lost without Tony. No amount of little lies can reduce the pain and loss in Gibbs's too blue eyes, and it hurts Ducky, and he loses his resolve bit by bit. Gibbs nods, and the nurse tucks a blanket around him before she walks over to Ducky.
"Thank you so much," Ducky whisperes, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay because he needs to be strong for Gibbs, for Jethro, for his friend, and Gibbs needs him to be strong because Gibbs has always been the strong one, and Ducky has always been the wise one although Ducky doesn't feel very wise at this point, he just feels heavy, and lost, and tired.
"You're welcome. We'll take good care of him, why don't you go home for a bit? Grab a change of clothes for him, some food, shavingkit..." the nurse's eyes are honest, and sad, and Ducky nods. He doesn't go by the familyroom at all, he just wanders out of the hospital and waves down a cab. He tells the address and the cabdriver talks and talks and talks, and Ducky briefly wonders if this angry feeling is what Gibbs gets whenever he himself brings up a long story. He can't really help it though, and his anger at the cabdriver recedes because it has to be lonely driving angry people around all the time, and for Ducky it's lonely cutting into dead people who has their own stories. When the cab stops, Ducky gets out and pays the man before walking up the steps. The nurse tells him that his mother is sleeping soundly, and he nods as he passes her to go straight into the livingroom where the corgi's are jumping and waking up as they recognize their owner. And Ducky kneels among them, and they gather as though they sense there's something so wrong that they have to be quiet, and he lays down with them, hugging who he can, petting them, surrounding himself with the love they offer, the unconditional support.
Tomorrow, Ducky will be strong again, and he will tell little lies, and tell them the scraps of good news that make it his way, and tomorrow, he'll make sure everyone's okay. But tonight, he's surrounding himself with living breathing dogs who offer him unconditional love and support. He doesn't have to be strong tonight, and it hurts. And Ducky cries, because he's not sure if it's selfish and wrong, or if it's right and justified. So he cries, and the dogs still love him.
-0-
AN: Ow. Seriously, I didn't even know my brain could come up with this, but it did, and you're reading it.