Reminder: Some characters will appear in roles that have no correlation to their roles on the show. This is an AU story.

A/N Again, I have taken a few liberties with the medical details to keep the story flowing and to avoid quoting medical journals. SMcG

In loco parentis

Chapter 7.

A hand wrapped around his forearm and gently squeezed as a female voice quietly called his name.

"Mr Gibbs?"

Lifting his chin from his chest, Jackson blinked rapidly to clear the remnants of sleep from his brain. He recognised the dark haired nurse, Julie Anderson, and quickly looked past her at the sleeping boy.

"Tony's okay?" he asked sleepily.

"He's still sleeping," Julie replied with a wry grin. "There seems to be a lot of that going on in here."

She walked around the other side of the bed and switched off the jazz lullabies still playing softly in the background.

"Guess those lullabies work on people of all ages," he said with a chuckle.

"You've been sitting here for hours," Julie said with genuine concern "Why don't you step out for a breath of fresh air while we change Tony's dressings and the linen?"

"Promised my son I wouldn't leave the boy alone," Jackson said.

"He won't be alone and sitting here all day is not helping that bad hip of yours," she said handing him his cane. "Take a break, I promise I won't leave him until you or Agent Gibbs gets back."

Knowing the argument was lost Jackson struggled to his feet, grimacing as a spasm of pain shot through his hip joint. He placed a large gentle hand on Tony's head and leaned in close.

"I'm just gonna step outside for a little breather, okay?" he whispered just loud enough for the nurse to hear. "Now, you behave yourself, young man, you hear me? No fraternising with the pretty nurses."

With a flirtatious smile for the blushing nurse and a final look in Tony's direction, Jackson Gibbs leaned heavily on his cane as he hobbled from the room.


With his team getting some well-earned rest and not due back at the office for several more hours, Gibbs returned to the hospital to be with Tony. As he strode through the lobby his cell rang, earning him the disapproving glare of an officious teenage candy striper. Matching her indignation, Gibbs walked outside to the hospital garden and took the call.

As he listened, the fear that had been squeezing his chest tightened its grip cruelly and he dropped heavily onto a nearby bench, scrubbing his face with his hands. He snapped the cell shut without saying goodbye and leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he cradled his head in his hands.

He cursed under his breath and for the first time in many years, he began to second-guess himself. What had he been thinking? Did he really believe, at this point in his life, that he could give up his job and his independence to provide full-time care for Tony? Hell, he didn't even know whether the kid would want him as a foster parent. Just because he had felt a powerful connection between them, didn't mean that Tony felt it, too.

He closed his eyes and his mind conjured a vision of his little pig-tailed daughter. His heart constricted with grief as intense and raw as it had been all those years ago when she and her mother were violently taken from him. Is that what this was? Had he allowed his grief and the emptiness in his heart to convince him that he and Tony were meant to be together? The child without a parent and the parent without a child - it made sense at the time. He'd involved everyone he cared about; introduced them to Tony and watched as, without hesitation, they accepted him into their lives. Now he had to find a way to walk this back…and he knew it wasn't going to be easy.


Jackson stopped by the cafeteria, purchasing a sandwich and a coffee before heading toward the hospital garden for some fresh air. He momentarily stopped in his tracks, recognising the familiar frame sitting with head in hands on a nearby bench.

"Leroy?"

Gibbs turned quickly at the sound of his name, his eyes flicking from his father to the second story window of Tony's PICU room.

"He's fine," Jackson assured him. "The nurses asked me to step out while they changed his dressings and bedding. Thought I'd get some air before heading back up there."

Gibbs nodded, the relief evident on his face as he dropped back onto the bench. Jackson took a seat beside him, eyeing him suspiciously. He knew his son well enough to know that he had something on his mind – the trick had always been getting him to talk about it.

"Expected you back hours ago," he said. "How was the funeral?"

Gibbs shrugged one shoulder.

"Fine."

"Anything happen that I should know about?"

Gibbs shot his father an irritated look.

"It was a funeral, Dad," he said curtly. "What could happen?"

"Figured something had to happen for you to be sitting down here alone instead of being up there with Tony."

Gibbs rubbed a hand over the back of his neck trying to ease the tension and then exhaled a long breath through tightly clenched teeth.

"It's over," he said, with a desolation Jackson hadn't heard in his son's voice since Shannon and Kelly died.

"What's over?"

Gibbs took another deep breath and pointed with his chin to his cell phone.

"Chambers just called."

"Your attorney?"

Gibbs nodded, still not meeting his father's eyes.

"He spoke to Judge Harland and tried to get the hearing postponed. Give us more time to get something on DiNozzo."

"And?"

"The request was denied. The judge said the DiNozzos have urgent business in Switzerland and from the background information she'd already read, she could see no reason to delay."

"So we go ahead tomorrow just like we planned," Jackson replied. "By then, Kate and Abby, McGee and that young fella, Mitchell will have proof that Nicholas DiNozzo seriously injured the boy."

"We've got nothing, Dad," Gibbs growled, launching to his feet and starting to pace in an agitated manner. "My team's been working around the clock and we got nothing! DiNozzo's an arrogant SOB but he's no fool. He wouldn't risk coming back if he thought he could be linked to Tony's injuries."

Gibbs stopped pacing and looked back up at the window of Tony's room. He closed his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath but when his eyes re-opened Jackson saw the hope fade in his eyes.

"So that's it?" Jackson accused. "If you pull out now, DiNozzo will take Tony back to Switzerland. Is that what you want?"

"Doesn't matter a damn what I want, Dad, matters what I can have and without proof that DiNozzo's unfit, I can't have Tony."

"So you're just gonna throw your hands in the air and give up?"

"You asked why I didn't tell you about Tony sooner, well, now you know," Gibbs replied his voice rising defensively. "I didn't tell you because I knew this might happen."

"So don't let it happen!"

"What do you want me to do?" Gibbs yelled, the tenuous hold on his composure fraying badly.

Jackson's penetrating gaze met his son's and he saw his own dismay reflected in the blue eyes. He cleared his throat and kept his voice calm and level.

"You've been given a second chance at fatherhood, Leroy. If you're planning to cut and run, you tell me now before I grow any fonder of that little boy."

Gibbs dropped heavily onto the bench beside his father and the two men sat silently for several moments.

"I don't know whether I can do this again, Dad," Gibbs said scarcely above a whisper. "Don't know whether I can lose another child."

"Then you gotta do what you always do, son…you gotta fight like hell to keep him."

"What if I'm wrong? What if Tony needs more than I can give him?"

"Lord knows Tony has a long road in front of him, filled with more doctors than I've had hot breakfasts…but what that boy needs most is family, someone to love him and someone to love. I don't know anyone who can fill that need better than you."

"And if we lose, tomorrow?"

"Then we keep on looking until we find the proof we need and can bring our boy home."

A rare smile lifted the corners of Gibbs' mouth and he was never more grateful to have his father back in his life.

"I'll split my sandwich with ya," Jackson offered, lightening the mood.

"Whatcha got?"

"Baloney," Jackson chuckled. "Appropriate don't you think?"

"You keep your baloney," Gibbs said leaning around his father to swipe the Styrofoam cup. "I'll drink your coffee."


The instant the elevator doors opened to the PICU ward, Gibbs recognised Tony's distressed cries echoing down the corridor. Breaking into a run he rushed to Tony's room attempting to brush by Ducky who was standing at the door with Doctor McNally.

"What the hell's going on, Duck?"

"Ah, Jethro, there you are," Ducky greeted warmly, "you almost missed young Anthony's first physical therapy session."

Tony continued to moan loudly, flailing his arms and tossing his head from side to side. As the agent stepped forward to calm the boy, an attractive dark-haired female blocked his path.

"I would rather you did not do that," she said her dark penetrating eyes meeting his unwaveringly.

With a look that would freeze hell, Gibbs attempted to shoulder past her but she blocked his path again.

"You may go to him when I am finished my evaluation, not before."

"And you are?" Gibbs asked in a low growl.

"Oh, dear, where are my manners? " Ducky asked, strategically positioning himself between them. "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, meet Ziva David. Ziva is the physical therapist I was telling you about."

She thrust a hand toward him in greeting, the strength of her grip belying her small stature. Never losing eye contact for a moment, she silently communicated that she was not a woman easily intimidated.

"Doctor Mallard has explained your…situation and asked me provide an evaluation and treatment plan for Tony," she explained.

"That include inflicting pain on an injured child, Ms David?"

Upon hearing Gibbs' voice Tony quietened immediately, mewling softly as his breath hitched frequently.

"Really, Jethro!" Ducky protested.

"Thank you, Doctor Mallard, but I am quite capable of addressing Agent Gibbs' concerns," she said with a quick smile for the ME. "The inflicting of pain that you refer to was simple, passive manipulation of Tony's leg muscles and joints. This prevents muscle spasticity and stiffening of the limbs. It is…uncomfortable at worse but not painful."

"Then why could I hear him from the end of the corridor?"

Ziva turned to Tony and her eyes softened as she placed her palm against his cheek.

"Because he wanted you to help him," she smiled as she brushed the sweaty bangs from the boy's forehead, "and he was calling for you to rescue him in the only way he could."

"Rescue?"

"Children with Tony's condition do not always understand the work that is required to stay ahead of muscle deterioration and atrophy. But they have an uncanny sense of those whose presence means safety and security…and those who they can wrap around their fingers, yes?"

A small smile ghosted over his lips.

"You calling me a pushover, Ms David?"

"I have not known you long enough to make such a determination," she replied with a glint of humour in her eyes. "However, I believe that Tony has already decided that you are."

Gibbs stood back and allowed Ziva to finish her evaluation, watching her work methodically and gently as she examined Tony's reflexes and muscle reaction. Throughout her examination, she spoke to the child in a soft calming voice, reverting to Hebrew to soothe him when he became distressed or uncomfortable. By the end of her exam, Tony appeared completely accepting of her touch and her ministrations.

"I believe that I can help Tony regain strength and movement in his legs," she said. "However, it will require a lot of perseverance and hard work and may take many months. I would like to apply for the position."

"Need to talk more; verify your qualifications and references," Gibbs replied. "And you'll have to agree to a police check."

Turning his head in Gibbs' direction, Tony mewled loudly and the former marine distinctly heard the irritable, scolding tone. Huffing out a laugh, the former marine reached out a hand and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately.

"Seems Tony's made up his mind about you, too."


Later that evening McGee and Kate called by with news of the investigation; their frustration was palpable as they advised their team leader that they had made little progress. Three transfers of fifty thousand dollars had been paid into the bank account of Ivan Grant, the man who murdered Tony's father. Although they had established that the three transactions originated from the same Swiss bank account, the name of the remittor had been suppressed.

The timeline of these payments coincided with the hit and run murder of former DiNozzo Enterprises board member, Marco Firelli and the shootings at the DiNozzo house. Gibbs' rage grew as understanding dawned and the fury of it threatened to overwhelm him. Tony's shooting had not been a random or panicked act; whoever paid to have Senior murdered had paid to have Tony murdered, too.

"But Senior had removed Nicholas and Christina from his will," Kate said. "They had nothing to gain."

"They didn't know that then," Gibbs replied.

"So…with Tony still alive but unable to testify they obtain custody, become his legal guardians and gain access to the DiNozzo fortune anyway," McGee said.

Gibbs nodded, swallowing the bitter bile at the back of his throat.

"We can't let that happen, Gibbs, we won't let that happen," Kate said definitively. "We've got one more night to gain access to that Swiss bank data base."

"Once we do that we can match the DiNozzo's account to those payments and they'll both be facing life in prison," McGee added.

As his agents headed back to the Navy yard with renewed motivation, Gibbs settled in for another night by Tony's bed. As disappointed as he was, the former marine knew his team was the very best and he trusted them with his life…why then, was it so much harder to trust them with Tony's?


Although the physical therapy session had been gentle and brief, at this early stage in his recovery, the mild exertion seemed to take a lot out of Tony. He slept for most of the afternoon and into the night, not even stirring when Gibbs read an entire chapter of the Jungle Book.

Time moved achingly slowly as he thumbed through the out-dated sports magazines that had been brought in from the waiting room and then let out a frustrated sigh. Gibbs was a man of action and the inactivity was killing him. Something from the corner of the room caught his eye and he recognised the cardboard box that Kate had brought with some of Tony's belongings. Protruding from the box was a large leather-bound photo album. His curiosity piqued, he retrieved the album and studied each photo with a keen interest. He smiled gently as, with each new page, the tiny pink baby with the chubby arms and legs, grew into a young boy with sparkling green eyes and a wide infectious grin.

The album was meticulously put together with the loving detail that only a mother could apply. It chronicled Tony's life from his birth and his christening, all of his birthdays, his first day of school, piano recitals and what looked like a nasty case of chicken pox. Gibbs noticed with consternation that Tony's father appeared in the photos less and less as his son grew older; confirmation of his earlier assumption that Senior had let his work usurp precious time with his family. A pang of guilt stabbed at his heart – he knew first hand that time away from your family was time forever lost.

Carefully placing the album on the rolling table, Gibbs sat back in his chair and gazed at the face of the sleeping boy. Long dark eyelashes rested on too pale cheeks and purplish crescents stood out starkly beneath his eyes. A hot burst of anger flared in his chest at the injustice of it all and he took a deep breath to cool it, recalling his father's words:-

"Then we keep on looking until we find the proof we need and can bring our boy home."

Gibbs fisted his hands tightly and kept his arms locked at his side attempting to dispel the unease that had settled like an icy brick in the pit of his stomach. For tonight, Tony was safe and warm and protected. He let himself slip into a light soldier's sleep, counting on his instincts to wake him if Tony needed him.

The stress and tension and several nights spent sleeping in a chair beside Tony's hospital bed had taken their toll and, a short time later, Gibbs fell into a deeper sleep than he'd intended. He frowned in irritation at the strange whimpering noise attempting to penetrate his slumber but it was the incoherent blood-curdling screams that had him instantly on his feet and reaching for his side arm.

A rush of adrenaline infused him, driving away his fatigue. Blinking rapidly, his trained eyes quickly scanned the room for danger. Satisfied that none existed, he looked to the bed where Tony lay in a panicked-sweat, wide-eyed and breathing heavily as a result of a terrifying nightmare. His screams gave way to mournful sobs and Gibbs had no doubt the boy had just relived the brutal murder of his father.

The sound of running feet was followed by Nurse Anderson's arrival at the door of the cubicle.

"S'okay," Gibbs assured her. "He had a nightmare…I got this."

Nodding her acknowledgement she continued to Tony's bedside, checking the readouts of the equipment and making minor adjustments as Gibbs lowered the railing on the bed.

"Hey," he said softly, extending a hand and laying it gently on Tony's heaving chest. "Hey, s'okay…I'm here, Tony. Was just a bad dream."

Tony continued to sob, his tears streaked from the corners of his eyes and the former marine sighed at the look of desolation and grief that didn't belong on the face of a child. Feeling the tremors running through the small body he immediately looked to the EEG.

"It's not a seizure," the nurse said, "but it will be if he doesn't calm down. I'm going to have to sedate him."

"Give me a minute," the agent instructed as he toed off his shoes.

He gently shifted Tony over and climbed up onto the bed, feeling his heart skip a beat as the boy snuggled close and clung to him like a limpet. For some reason, this child had unhesitatingly chosen Gibbs as his safe haven and the enormity of that responsibility was not lost on him. As Tony relaxed by aching degrees, the tempo of the monitors began to slow to normal. Gibbs continued to rub soothing circles on the little chest, watching, as Tony's eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they remained closed and sleep swept him away.

"You have quite a way with him," Julie Anderson smiled as she tucked the blanket around Tony's shoulders and headed for the door. "I'll be right outside if you need me."

Gibbs listened as Tony's breathing evened out. In the darkness lurked thoughts he didn't want to contemplate. He wrapped his arms around the sleeping boy making a silent promise that, no matter what tomorrow held in store, he would not stop fighting until he brought him home for good.


Thank you for your very supportive reviews and alerts. SMcG