Chapter 9
DISCLAIMER:- I do not own NCIS or its characters and no copyright infringement is intended.
Not a word was spoken between the two men as they drove back to the Navy yard.
A storm was definitely coming, if the thundercloud expression on Gibbs' face was any indication. Seated in the passenger seat, Tony surreptitiously moved his hand to his ribs and gave an almost imperceptible wince. The move didn't escape Gibbs' notice and he exhaled loudly to signal his displeasure.
It was almost 2300 by the time they made it back to the office. McGee and Ziva had taken Maxwell to Interrogation to wait for Gibbs who had frog-marched Tony down to Autopsy for another check up. Tony secretly hoped that Ducky had left for the evening or was too busy to poke, probe and lecture him tonight – no matter how well meaning the elderly doctor was.
They walked into the Autopsy room to find Ducky giving his TAD Assistant ME, William Fenner, a dressing down. They politely stood at the far end of the room, pretending not to listen.
"To surmise, Mr Fenner," Ducky said, "we all expect to make mistakes in our first days on the job but the important thing is that you learn from them. Next time, I expect you will apply the brakes on the gurney and secure the body so that we do not have to chase the wretched thing down the hill and retrieve the body from the creek below!"
"Yes, Dr Mallard," the young assistant ME nodded his head enthusiastically. "I'm sorry, Sir, it will never happen again!"
"Quite frankly, my boy, I don't think you could do that again if you tried!" Ducky said. "Now, go with Mr Palmer and restock the storeroom before we get another run. There's a good lad!"
Palmer had been standing off to Ducky's right. His arms were folded across his chest and he shook his head in righteous disbelief.
"The storeroom's this way Probie," Palmer said, giving the younger man a quick head slap as he walked by and both young men left the room.
Seeing the two agents approach, Ducky explained. "He's very eager to please but I'm afraid he makes young Mr Palmer look as light on his feet as Fred Astaire. Now, what can I do for you two?"
"Have you got time to give DiNozzo a quick once over, Duck?" Gibbs said. "I need to go to interrogation."
Tony's head snapped up. "Boss? Can't I do this later? I was hoping to be with you when you interrogated Maxwell."
"And I was hoping you'd obey orders and stay in the damn car, DiNozzo!" Gibbs replied furiously before heading for the elevator and leaving Tony gaping.
"My, my, something has got Jethro riled up," Ducky said. "Would I be right in assuming that you are the cause of that bluster, Anthony?"
Tony nodded. "He's pissed at me, Ducky."
"Hmmm. Angry or concerned, my dear boy??" Ducky asked. "With Jethro, it can be difficult to discern one from the other. Now, why don't you tell me why Jethro feels you are in need of my services again so soon?"
Tony told Ducky of the incident that took place earlier that night. Shaking his head ruefully, he instructed Tony to remove his sweater and to take a seat on the autopsy table while he retrieved his medical bag.
Ducky took the opportunity to check on Tony's other injuries, checking the stitches in his head wound, his pupil reaction and asking about the lingering headaches.
"I'm quite concerned about your colour, Anthony. You're very pale," Ducky noted. "You are taking your pain meds? They will help with your headaches, you know."
"Umm, no, not really, Ducky," Tony answered. "They make me tired."
"Well, I should think that's the point!" Ducky huffed. "Are you sleeping at all, because you look like…"
"Crap?" Tony offered.
"Well, I was going to say you look like death warmed up, but…yes, crap seems to be an accurate description in this case!"
Tony's silence caused Ducky to look up from the blood pressure gauge he was reading. "Anthony? Are you alright?"
"I keep seeing her, Ducky." Tony would not meet Ducky's gaze but the elderly medic could hear the grief in his voice. "Every time I close my eyes or fall asleep, I hear Becky crying and then I see her and I see the blood. She looks at me and begs me to help her."
"Have you spoken to anyone, about this, Anthony?" Ducky asked worriedly.
"You mean, like the agency shrink?"
"God forbid! I know you better than that, my boy. Have you spoken to Jethro?" Ducky asked.
Tony would never consider speaking to Gibbs about this – not sober anyway. He knew that Gibbs would understand but revealing these dreams would be like baring his soul or exposing his weakness. Tony wasn't about to do that with anyone - especially Gibbs.
"I don't need to speak with anyone - honestly, Ducky, I'm fine," Tony replied. "Well, as fine as I can be. I'll be a lot better once we put this murdering SOB away forever or if I could close my eyes for 30 minutes without reliving Becky's death all over again or without waking up disoriented, in a cold sweat with my heart pounding and barely able to breathe…" Tony took a deep shuddering breath and turned back to Ducky with a disarming smile. "Okay, forget I said all that and just remember the 'I'm fine' stuff."
He slid himself from the Autopsy table and back into his clothes. "Gotta run, Doc, thanks!" he said, giving Ducky a crooked grin before running out to the elevator with an awkward gait.
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Tony opened the door to Observation Room 2 and joined Ziva and McGee to watch the interrogation unfold. Gibbs was on his feet, circling the much larger, blonde man like a great white shark circles its prey.
"You okay, Tony?" McGee mumbled, holding an ice pack to his swollen jaw.
"Considering I just got body slammed into the sidewalk by Hulk Hogan there, yeah Probie, I'm peachy," Tony answered. "What did I miss?"
"Nothing," Ziva replied. "We are just getting started."
Gibbs had been his usual hard and uncompromising self during the interview. Despite the blonde man's intimidating bulk, he had crumbled under Gibbs' unrelenting questioning and searing stare. Maxwell told how an unknown man had driven to the guardhouse in a dark SVU with blackened windows. The man wore a hooded sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up over his ball cap, hiding much of his face.
The man explained that his girlfriend was in the car. She was the wife of a well-known politician and therefore, they could not be seen entering a motel or hotel. He offered Maxwell $500 to open one of the warehouses and "clear out" for three hours. Having a drug and gambling habit to support, Maxwell took the money and left. He swore he did not see or hear the child. He took the money, opened the door to warehouse 10B and went to O'Leary's to score.
He had only been back at the guardhouse for 15 minutes when Gibbs' sedan had sped past into the estate, followed by the coroners' truck and the EMTs. He did not know what had happened but he was high and he knew, with his criminal record, that he would be considered a suspect. So he ran. He was unable to provide a useful description of the man but he did agree to submit to provide a DNA sample for comparison purposes.
When the three agents stepped from the observation room, Gibbs was there to meet them.
"McGee, you and Ziva take Maxwell to the holding cells. Then, you go see Ducky about your jaw. Ziva, ask Abby to take the DNA sample," he instructed.
"DiNozzo! With me!" Gibbs hissed through a clenched jaw as he took hold of Tony's bicep and practically flung the younger man back into the observation room.
"What the hell, Gibbs?" The menacing tone of Tony's voice matched that of his team leader's and was enough to have the audio technician scurrying out the door, post haste.
"I thought I told you to stay in the car," Gibbs said, "was my instruction unclear, Special Agent DiNozzo?"
"No, Sir, it was not!" Tony replied, straightening himself to his full height and meeting Gibbs' furious gaze with one of his own. "What was I supposed to do, leave McGee without back-up? Watch Maxwell run right by me?"
"You were supposed to follow orders, DiNozzo. Ziva and I were there within seconds," Gibbs continued in his best ex-Gunny bark.
"If Maxwell had been armed, seconds is all it would have taken for him to kill McGee!" Tony defended.
"He wasn't armed!"
"I didn't know that!" Tony was yelling now.
"Then why didn't you draw your own weapon?" Gibbs asked angrily.
The muscles in Tony's jaw tensed as he replied dangerously.
"Are you really suggesting that I would purposely risk McGee's life just so I could get my hands on this guy?"
Gibbs threw his hands in the air. "Hell, DiNozzo, you tell me! At the moment, I don't know what to think! Maybe you decided to play vigilante and take this guy by yourself?"
Tony looked Gibbs in the eyes. "Wasn't that long ago that you did something similar, or has the name Ari Haswari conveniently slipped your mind?"
Gibbs stepped forward, pushing right into Tony's personal space. His voice was a low, dangerous whisper but his eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and concern.
"I did not disobey a direct order nor did I have a concussion and a fractured skull! Do you know what could have happened if you had hit your head? You could have died!! What you did was reckless and it could have cost your life."
Several tension filled moments passed with neither man giving an inch. Both men maintained a silence that was once so easy between them but was now crackling with hostility.
"I know you're frustrated about the case, Tony," Gibbs told him, "but you're on light duties for a reason and right now, you're about a hair's breadth from being placed on medical leave. Next time I give you an order, I expect you to carry it out, no matter what."
Normally, Tony would respond to such a reprimand with genuine regret and an undertaking never to repeat the offence. However, Gibbs was slightly taken aback when his senior field agent set his jaw once again and spoke through clenched teeth.
"If that is all, I'd like to leave now! I have a funeral to attend in a few hours."
He waited until Gibbs replied with a curt nod and he turned and headed for the corridor.
"Wait for me in the bullpen, I'll drive you home," Gibbs said.
Tony didn't reply and slammed the door of the observation room as he left.
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