Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from NCIS.
Author's Note: I hope this chapter isn't too long. I keep thinking of little things to add to round out the plot and all of the sudden it's out of control. My apologies.
I want to continue thanking everyone who has given me so much support during this story. I enjoy all the alerts, comments, and private messages. Just a reminder, the entire story is about 16 chapters, so there is an end in sight (just not too soon!)
Thanks so much!
TLH
DiNozzo watched the sun fading from the window. He was feeling more in control of his body than he had in days; the headache was mostly gone, it had been a few hours since his last dose of drugs so he was just groggy instead of semi-comatose, he was only hearing voices occasionally, they had even removed the heart monitor and EEG leads. That left the IV line as the only thing keeping him in the bed.
Gibbs had stopped off that morning and brought him some dark blue pajamas so he'd also been able to ditch the god-awful hospital gown.
Most of the time since he'd landed in the hospital had been spent undergoing more tests than he even knew existed. He'd had his memory, cognitive ability, vision, hearing, speech, motor function, sleep patterns, and a dozen other things he didn't care about assessed. In between the wheelchair rides to various parts of the hospital, he'd been sedated into sleep, leaving a lot of the days a fuzzy blur. Gibbs or Ducky had stayed most of the time, and he'd rarely been left alone if they could help it. Even though they didn't say anything, he could see the fear in both their eyes at his depressed and anxious behavior. Childers had never been far away, smiling his sickly sweet grin, reminding Tony at every moment that he had forfeited his life to the bastard.
Yet somehow during the haze of activity, he had managed to come up with a plan.
He refused to spend the rest of his life under Childers' thumb. The man thought he had him trapped by threatening Gibbs and his friends, and for the most part he was right. Tony couldn't tell Gibbs what was really going on since he was certain Childers would go through with his threat. So Tony had to get away from the professor in another way.
What he had worked out to do was his only option; it would solve more than one problem.
You are worthless, DiNozzo. You don't deserve to live, the voices whispered. For once, he totally agreed with them.
He pulled the IV line out of his arm and leaned back in the bed, waiting for some more of the medication to filter from his system. He wanted to be as alert as possible. They had warned him that without the medicine he might start having seizures again, but as long as he was quick with what he needed to do it shouldn't be an issue.
He recalled how McGee, Ziva, Palmer, and Abby had visited him earlier in the day; it had been an opportunity to straighten out some things.
"Listen, guys, I'm not exactly sure how long they're going to keep me locked up in here so do you think you could do a few things for me?"
They had exchanged worried glances, surprised Tony had so blatantly brought up the topic of being detained. Abby fielded his initial question. "Of course, Tony, whatever you need."
For a few seconds he looked away from her, ashamed of what he was going to do. "You know, just some stuff around the apartment, water the plants, clean out the fridge, that kind of stuff."
Ziva sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his arm. "You will be home soon, Tony."
DiNozzo smiled at her, "Sure I will, Ziva. Do you think you'd mind getting the oil changed in my car? The extra keys are in the kitchen drawer. And if you want just keep driving it until I get out of here."
"You are going to let me drive your car? I thought you said you would flip in your grave first."
"It's roll over in my grave, and your driving has gotten….better," he lied.
"No, it hasn't, but I appreciate that you trust me to take care of it."
Tony looked over at Palmer. "Hey, Jimmy, you been watching any of my DVD's?"
"Of course not, Tony. I haven't touched even one," Jimmy replied quickly.
"Well, since I'm not watching them, you ought to go over and pick out a few. I'd rather somebody use them."
"Are you sure, Tony? You don't mind?"
"Nah, it's ok. Abs, you should get some CD's. Hell, you can even use the stereo if you want."
Abby jumped up from the chair where she'd been sitting. "Are you serious? I mean really, really serious? Your stereo is awesome, Tony. I can't even imagine what Cult of Killers would sound like on your system."
"Then I guess you should find out. I can't use it in here."
Abby frowned. "Tony, you're doing a lot better. You won't be in here forever."
"I know, it's just kind of boring. I wish they'd let me have my laptop. Which reminds me, McFixIt, you think you could check out the keyboard? The letter "A" keeps sticking, and you can't type much without an "A"."
"Your new laptop? I'm surprised you're already having a problem with it."
"Well, I guess I've been posting too many personal ads. Just take care of it, ok? And hang on to it until I come home."
"Alright, Tony, if that's what you want."
"Oh, and I have a bottle of wine that's going to go bad, think one of you guys could give that to Ducky?"
"Sure," Ziva answered. "Tony, why are you giving away all of your things?" She was frowning. His behavior was sending off all sorts of red flags.
"It's just….I don't know how long I'm going to be stuck here and I…..I want to know my stuff is taken care of! Is that so wrong? I mean it's not like any of you had a meltdown, tried to kill the Director, shot the boss, and got locked in the psycho ward!"
"Alright, Tony, we'll take care of it, don't get upset," McGee said.
"I'm not upset!" he shouted. A nurse came in the room.
"Is there a problem?" She immediately started adding medications into the line. Tony watched her with frustration.
"I'm fine, I don't need you to knock me out again," he complained. "You guys should go; I'm not going to be able to do more than drool in about ten minutes anyway."
"Tony…" McGee began.
"Just go!" He rolled over in the bed and curled up.
"It's ok, Tony," Palmer said reassuringly, "We'll come back tomorrow." They moved toward the door.
"Hey," Tony called after them, turning over. "I didn't mean to yell. I…." He saw them standing there, his adopted family, and decided to memorize every feature. Abby's crazy clothes, Ziva's gorgeous curly hair, Palmer's perfectly nerdy glasses, McGee's new pencil-thin look. He would miss them.
"Bye guys," he said and gave them a low-watt but endearing smile.
Abby ran back over and kissed him on the forehead. "Love you, Tony."
"Love you, too, Abs."
The medication was already making him loopy when he pulled the tiny drawer beside his bed open and took out an envelope addressed to Gibbs in his cramped, tiny handwriting. The letter had been written earlier in the day, and he hoped it explained to Gibbs what he had decided to do and why. He also tried to express in it everything Gibbs had meant to him over the years. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could do. He safely tucked the letter back inside, before he slid back down in the sheets and stopped fighting the need to sleep.
Tony vaguely recalled Gibbs coming in during his drug-induced nap. He dimly remembered the older man straightening his blanket and pillow, pushing his hair back, even holding his hand for awhile, his face creased with worry. There had been a phone call before Gibbs patted his shoulder and said he had to go to MTAC, but Ducky would be over later. Fortunately, the ME had yet to arrive.
So for now he was alone, watching the last light of the day disappear through the window.
It was time for Tony to go, too.
NCISNCISNCIS
Escaping from the locked hospital ward was much easier than it should have been. If Tony had been on duty instead of a psychotic terrorist enemy combatant threat to national security, he would have pointed out just how poor their safety measures were. As it was, he doubted they would be interested in a patient's analysis of their hospital's security.
He had evaluated the area and memorized the layout on his way in and out for tests. He even knew the code for the door, since a nurse had left him sitting in the hallway for ten minutes while she talked to a coworker. Watching staff leave, it hadn't taken much time to figure out where their fingers were landing on the keypad.
Standing by the bed, adrenaline surged through him, helping push aside the remnants of the medication he had been given. He was still weak and shakier than he would've liked, and it took a few minutes for him to feel steady enough to walk. But he couldn't let that stop him. There might not be another chance for him to get out of here. He'd played football with enough injuries to help him withstand a slight headache and jello-y knees.
Everyone will be better off, Tony. There's no other way. Funny how the voice in his head sounded just like him.
Sliding out his door into the darkened main area, he quickly went to a laundry bin and found a pair of scrubs which he pulled on over his own pajamas. Making sure the nurse's desk was empty, he grabbed a chart and a loose stethoscope that he draped around his neck. Lowering his head over the chart as if lost in thought, he walked purposefully toward the locked doors. The key was acting as if he really was a doctor making rounds; don't walk too slow or too fast, just casually move like he had somewhere to be.
A pretty nurse walked past and he smiled at her; she grinned back appreciatively. At the door, he confidently punched in the numbers, took a small breath in the seconds it took for the door to pop open, and strolled through without pausing.
The hospital was quiet as he moved down the corridors, finding his way to the front exit. Few people paid any attention to him; if they did he merely gave them a nod and a disarming grin. In less than five minutes from the time he slid from his room, Tony DiNozzo walked out into the night and he was gone.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs noticed the heightened security as he sipped coffee and walked down the hospital corridors toward Tony's room. Security guards appeared to be on high alert, watching for something. He had been splitting his time between the hospital and the office, trying to be with Tony but at the same time figure out exactly what had gotten DiNozzo into this situation.
Someone was responsible for what was happening to Tony, and he was determined to find out who and bring them to justice. His justice. No one did this to a member of his team, especially Tony, and got away with it. It might take him the rest of his life, but he wouldn't let the need for vengeance go. He was convinced Childers knew more about what was happening than he had let on, but they had yet to establish just how deep his involvement went.
This afternoon Tony had been deeply asleep, once again pulled under by the drugs Childers kept shooting into his veins. Gibbs took the few hours as a chance to check in with the team and see if anything new had come up regarding the agent's whereabouts during his "vacation." Despite looking at every angle they could think of, they still had nothing.
Tony was feeling better; the headaches and hallucinations seemed to be under control, but he continued to be uncharacteristically quiet. He was brooding, even depressed. Ziva had reported to him that Tony had been much more talkative and upbeat during their last visit, which was a good sign that he was rallying. But she also mentioned that his behavior had been odd, and she was very worried about his state of mind. Considering how all the other victims had ended up, he felt her concern was warranted.
Gibbs sensed the younger man blamed himself for everything, which was typical DiNozzo style. If Tony hadn't been on the locked hospital floor, Gibbs would have probably been in constant fear that his friend was on the verge of doing something very, very stupid. He was actually grateful for the 24 hour supervision the psychiatric ward provided. It should at least keep Tony safe from himself.
Another guard passed by, giving him an appraising glance; Gibbs' gut reared up and growled.
"Shit," he said, tossing his coffee cup in a trash can and jogging through the hallway. He held his injured arm close to his body to prevent it from jarring. "What the hell have you done, DiNozzo?"
NCISNCISNCIS
Childers looked up nervously at Gibbs' approach. He was standing in Tony's room with several other doctors and security guards.
"Where the hell is he?" Gibbs asked.
The doctor sighed. "Gone. He managed to slip past security about an hour ago."
"How did you let him get out of here? This is a maximum security floor! And why the hell didn't you call me?"
"We were canvassing the hospital. I hoped that maybe he was still inside."
Gibbs walked over beside the rumpled bed; a letter on the side table caught his eye. It was addressed to him in Tony's familiar, slanted writing. The lead agent picked it up and placed it in his jacket pocket.
A security officer rushed in. "We found something."
He led them to a room filled with monitors; a screen showed DiNozzo dressed in olive green scrubs walking casually through the hospital. The video ended when he strolled out the front door.
"Ah, Tony," Gibbs commented. It didn't benefit him to forget that his senior field agent could do pretty much whatever he wanted to when he set his mind to it.
"We need to find him quickly, Agent Gibbs. He's in more danger now than at any point since all this began."
"What makes you say that?"
"Your agent is very adept at hiding his real emotions, but let me assure you he is extremely depressed right now. He sees himself as a failure for not being able to resist what he has done, and if I'm correct he fears that he won't be able to control himself in the future. He would rather be dead than take a chance on hurting someone else."
Gibbs moved into the other man's personal space. "Are you telling me he left here so he could go kill himself?"
"That's exactly what I'm telling you."
It took the ex-marine only a few seconds to decide what to do. "Come on," he told the doctor reluctantly. "You're with me." Gibbs was already heading out of the hospital.
"Where are we going?" Childers asked, running to catch up.
"To find DiNozzo." The agent flipped open his phone and dialed McGee.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Where are you, Tim?"
"Um, I'm back at the office. Ziva and I wanted to keep looking through Tony's records."
"I need you to put out a BOLO on DiNozzo."
"What? A BOLO? Isn't he still in the hospital?" McGee asked. Ziva walked over to stand by his desk.
"What is going on?" she whispered.
"I don't know," he whispered back.
"Tony's gone AWOL. You and Ziva get over to his apartment and see if he's there."
Tim stood and reached for his weapon. "How did he get out? I thought he was on a lock-down floor."
"Well, I guess he's fricking Harry Houdini! Does it really matter, McGee? Just get the hell over to his apartment now!"
"On it, boss," he said to dead air since Gibbs had already hung up.
"Tony is gone?" Ziva asked as she followed Tim to the elevator.
"I guess so."
Ziva wrinkled her forehead, rushing onto the elevator. "He gave us all his things, McGee. Do you think he has been planning to hurt himself?"
McGee frowned. "You think all that stuff was Tony….saying goodbye? He wanted me to have his new laptop?"
"Can you think of any other reason he would let me drive his car?"
McGee's lips thinned thoughtfully. "No, Ziva, I can't. But I also can't believe Tony would, you know, commit suicide. If he does, Gibbs will kill him."
Ziva made a face at his comment.
"Ok, that was stupid. But, you know what I mean."
The Israeli met his eyes. "Actually, Tim, I know exactly what you mean. I just hope that Tony gives Gibbs a chance to kill him."
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs and Childers parked the car in front of the NCIS agent's neat and tidy home. Gibbs slid his arm back into the sling; it hurt to drive but it was a necessity.
"You think he came here?" the doctor asked. "Instead of his own place?"
The silver-haired man didn't answer right away. "Maybe. He feels safe here," Gibbs eventually replied.
Childers reached for the door handle. "Then let's go."
"No," Gibbs said quietly and put his hand on the other man's arm. "You wait here."
"Do I need to remind you that Tony is now in my custody?"
"This is between me and DiNozzo. I'll let you know when I need your help."
"You're not in charge here, Agent Gibbs. You can't tell me what to do."
Gibbs erupted. "How long have you known Tony? A week? Well, I've been taking care of him for the last ten years, and he's my responsibility! I intend to go in there to him alone! Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way, Childers." The former gunnery sergeant poked the man hard in the chest. "You decide!"
"Alright Gibbs, you can back down. I'll wait. But remember, he's more than likely a breath away from doing something none of us want. If you push too hard…."
"I know," the lead agent said, slamming the car door behind him. He knew exactly what it felt like to sit with a gun in his hand and debate escaping from it all. He knew how tempting it could be to take that next step and he would do whatever he had to in order to keep Tony from falling into that abyss.
NCISNCISNCIS
The house was quiet; the door to the basement had been left ajar. No light shined out, but Gibbs had traveled the wooden stairs so many times he didn't need light to guide him down. He took the steps carefully nevertheless, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He stopped at the third step from the bottom and sat down, not yet speaking to the shadowy figure seated on the stool in the corner.
He kept his silence, allowing Tony to be the first one to speak.
"What are you doing here, boss?"
"Last time I checked, I lived here. That was quite a stunt you pulled back at the hospital."
Tony shifted position uncomfortably. "I'm not playing games."
"I know you're not, Tony. What you're thinking about doing isn't the answer, though." Gibbs saw him sigh, the gun he was holding gripped loosely in his hand.
"I see you found my spare gun. Thought I hid it better than that."
"I know most of your secrets, boss."
Gibbs lifted an eyebrow at that statement.
Tony laughed nervously. "Well, maybe not all your secrets."
"You really going through with this, DiNozzo?" He wasn't much of a negotiator. Don't waste time and get right to the point.
Tony fiddled with the weapon. "I can't live like this. Everything is so screwed up. What do I have left? It's not like I can go back to work after I tried to shoot the Director. Maybe I could go back to the wife and kids? Oh, wait, I don't have those either."
"You have family, Tony. You have people who care about you. What's it going to take for you to figure that out?"
"I have people who tolerate and put up with me. I know what an aggravation I can be. Sometimes I get on my own damn nerves."
Gibbs smiled. Only Tony could contemplate suicide and still make jokes. "You never have given yourself enough credit."
Tony shook his head. "Maybe you can't see what everybody else does. I'm weak, boss. If I'd been stronger, none of this would've happened."
"You're one of the strongest people I know, Tony. You've taken more knocks than anybody and you keep getting back up. Don't give in now."
"Did you read my letter?" Tony asked quietly.
"No, I didn't." Gibbs patted his pocket. "I knew it wasn't time for that yet."
"You should've. I'm tired, boss. I'm tired of fighting, pretending none of it hurts. It does hurt. It hurts like hell. It hurt when my dad dumped me, when you left for Mexico, when the whole Jeanne thing blew up. Watching Kate, Paula, and Jenny all die." His voice was scratchy and broken. "Then of course there was the Ziva thing. That was a cluster-fuck. And now all this." Tony's voice cracked around a choked sob. "Here I am hiding in your basement crying like a damn baby." He struggled to get himself back in check. "Bet Stan Burley never cried on you."
"I wouldn't trade ten Stan Burleys for one of you, DiNozzo." Gibbs stood and walked closer to him. "I've cried a few times myself, Tony."
Tony looked up with red-rimmed eyes. "Don't lie to me, boss." He immediately regretted the statement when he thought about Shannon and Kelly. Maybe Gibbs did understand the despondency he felt.
"I would never lie to you, especially not at a time like this."
"It doesn't matter. I'm still finished. It isn't worth fighting anymore." He turned the gun toward himself and stared down the barrel. "What if I'd actually shot Vance? Or if his kids had been in my way? Would I have taken them out, too? I can't trust my own self."
Gibbs knelt next to him and placed a hand on his knee. "Then trust me. I have your six." The lead agent wasn't quite begging, but he was coming close.
DiNozzo put the gun under his chin, resting the barrel against his skin. "Please, boss, just go away and let me do this. Let me find some peace." He was crying harder now. Once the dam broke, it was impossible to force all the emotion back down. His hand shook a little, making Gibbs nervous. The safety on the weapon was off; Tony's finger rested on the trigger.
"I've been right where you are, Tony. I've held a gun in my hand and wondered if putting a bullet in my brain would take away all my pain. But I didn't do it, and I'm glad; because if I had I would've never been here to help you. You are not worthless, Tony, and you are irreplaceable to me." He paused to let his words sink in.
"I just don't know what else to do," Tony said softly, readjusting his grip on the gun, not even trying to hide the torment behind his glistening green eyes.
"I know, Tony. But I also know if you really thought this was the way out you wouldn't have come here; you'd never off yourself in my house; in my basement." He leveled his blue eyes at Tony and placed all his cards on the table. "You love me too much for that." He held his hand out. "Give me the gun."
DiNozzo closed his eyes and wavered a bit. Why did Gibbs have to cut so close to the bone? Gibbs was the only person he could never say no to, never refuse, and he had never failed to do what the lead agent asked of him. It was no secret that Tony loved Gibbs like a father.
"Come on, Tony. If you don't want to stick around for yourself, do it for me." During a brief flash Tony could see his body sprawled on the concrete floor, Gibbs standing over top of it. The older man would spend the rest of his life blaming himself, and no matter how much Tony wanted to take the easy way out, he couldn't do that to Gibbs. Quickly, before he had time for second thoughts, he thrust the gun into Gibbs' waiting hand.
"Atta boy." He heard Gibbs place the gun on the counter and then felt a firm arm on his shoulder. The next thing he knew his face was buried in the former gunnery sergeant's chest, his sobs echoing off the basement walls. Tony cried for all the hidden pain he had experienced but never really allowed himself to feel; in the dark quiet of Gibbs' sanctuary it seemed like an ok thing to do. With Gibbs' strong hand patting his back and his nose pressed into the soft shirt that smelled of sawdust and soap, he was finally able to release the tight grip he held on his carefully controlled emotions. The lead agent didn't say anything; just let him get it all out until there was nothing left inside.
"You ok?" Gibbs asked when Tony had been quiet for a few minutes. With a final pat on the back he loosened his arms. The younger man lifted his head off of Gibbs' wet shirt. Gibbs searched around on the counter and found a dirty, grease-stained cloth that he handed over to the senior field agent.
"No. I feel like a damn Lifetime movie of the week," Tony said, wiping his flushed face that had turned red from tears and embarrassment. "Sorry."
Gibbs smiled. "I've lost it on Mike Franks more times than I'd like to admit. It happens. You hungry?" He wanted to refocus Tony onto something normal.
"Hungry? Um, I don't know. Kinda?" Tony was confused by the complete change in topic.
"Good. Come on upstairs." Gibbs left the gun lying on the counter. Tony looked at it, wondering why the lead agent hadn't hidden it somewhere. Instead, he forced Tony to walk away from it on his own, another example of the Zen wisdom of Gibbs.
DiNozzo sighed and followed his mentor into the warm light of the kitchen.
NCISNCISNCIS
"Eat, Tony. I haven't seen you put anything in your stomach in days."
Tony dunked the edge of the grilled cheese into the bowl of tomato soup before taking a bite, chewing slowly. He rested his head on his hand, completely spent. Gibbs' phone rang. "Yeah, he's here. Everything's ok. You guys go home and go to bed."
"McGee?"
"He's with Ziva. They were worried."
Gibbs watched the guilt wash back over the younger man. "They care about you, Tony. It's ok. Now eat." The lead agent placed a glass of milk next to him.
"Milk?"
"It's good for you." Tony shook his head, knowing it was best not to argue with Gibbs' in his overprotective parent mode. He supposed his recent antics had earned it. He thought about the gun downstairs and how close he had come to using it.
After several minutes he finally finished the sandwich. "What now?" Tony asked while Gibbs cleaned up the dishes.
"Now you're going upstairs to bed before you keel over."
Tony rubbed his head but didn't move. "This doesn't solve anything, you know. I can't just hide out here; Childers will come looking for me. I guess I'm like an escaped convict or something."
"Let me deal with Childers. You. Bed."
Reluctantly Tony got up and did what Gibbs' said. Sometimes it was just easier to let him take over and stop getting in the way.
The familiarity of the spare bedroom was oddly comforting. He found some old sweats and a t-shirt he'd left there on one of his previous stays and changed before settling between the cool sheets. The view from the bed felt like coming home. He wondered what it would have been like to have grown up here, for this to have been his childhood bedroom instead of the series of meaningless rooms he had grown up in. Living in this house would have been better than life in any mansion.
He noticed the tingle of a headache starting again, but tried to push it back through force of will. There was no clear path for him to take now, no way out he could see that didn't end tragically for someone—more than likely him. What exactly did Childers want anyway? Why couldn't the man just leave him alone?
The door opened and Gibbs walked in, flopping down in the chair. Tony rolled over on his side. "You don't have to watch me, you know. I'm not going to sneak down in the middle of the night and put a bullet in my brain."
Gibbs let the caustic remark slide off him. "Humor me, DiNozzo."
Tony smiled into the dark. "Anything you say, boss."
As the ex-marine sat sentry over him, he knew Gibbs had been right. He had come here on purpose. Just thirty minutes earlier he was staring at the end of a gun, and now he was ready to drift off to sleep. It was why he always came back here; why he had followed Gibbs to DC from Baltimore in the first place. Whenever he was tired, or hurt, or confused, there was always the open door promising the comfort of sitting on the steps in the basement, or falling asleep on the couch, or curling up in this bed. After a lifetime of feeling rejected, it was the one place in the world he actually felt wanted. It was a feeling that he couldn't put a price on.
There was no explanation why Gibbs was the one who ended up wanting him; mystics would have to explain that one. But he was grateful fate had intervened, or he would have probably eaten his gun a long time ago.
The lead agent waited until he could hear Tony breathing softly before he quietly made his way out of the house and back to the car where Childers was waiting. Gibbs tapped on the window then climbed back into the driver's seat. "I guess you've proven you're a patient man."
The doctor tried to hide his irritation at being left so long. "What happened?"
"He ate something and went to bed." The rest of it wasn't any of this stranger's business.
Childers didn't press him. "We have to discuss what to do next. I want to take Tony to my clinic; I'll be able to work with him better there."
"When do we leave?" Gibbs asked.
"We? What makes you think you're going?"
"Tony doesn't go anywhere without me. Get used to it." The silver-haired man was tired, and not in the mood for a debate.
"What if I refuse? What would you do then?"
"I'd make sure you never saw Tony again," Gibbs replied.
"It'd be that simple? You'd give up your whole life for him?"
"Yep."
"You don't waste time with bullshit, Gibbs. Alright, you can come. We'll leave day after tomorrow; I think Tony might handle it better if he has a chance to say goodbye to his friends."
"So where is this clinic?" Gibbs asked.
"The mountains of Virginia. It's actually quite a beautiful place, very secluded and remote. Think of it as a vacation."
Gibbs gave the doctor an icy glare. "I don't take vacations. You can sleep on the couch." He slammed the car door and walked back inside, wondering if he'd just made a deal with the devil himself.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony opened his eyes wishing for a day he could wake without feeling like shit. The headache was back with close to the same intensity as before. After a few minutes staring at the ceiling he rolled out of bed and headed toward the kitchen, deciding he needed coffee and a handful of ibuprofen. Or maybe the gun in the basement wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Still half-asleep and scratching his belly, Tony stopped abruptly at the sight of the man sitting at the table. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Childers barely reacted to the question. "Did you think I was going to go away?"
"I was hoping," Tony replied bitterly.
"Play nice with the guest, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, pouring his senior field agent a cup of coffee.
Tony took the cup, but winced as a jolt of pain stabbed behind his eyes.
"Headache?" Gibbs looked concerned.
"No." He put a hand on the back of a chair. "Maybe." The pounding continued as the two men stared at him. He should have stayed in bed.
DiNozzo eased himself into the chair. "Ok, so I have another damn headache!" He rubbed the nape of his neck, trying to erase the familiar building pressure.
Childers retrieved a small cup filled with pills from the counter and held it out to Tony. "Take these," he said.
Tony met the man's gaze with disdain. "No. You aren't turning me back into a zombie."
The doctor lowered his voice. "Without this medication the headache will continue to get worse and you'll end up having more seizures. You were lucky there wasn't any brain damage during the last episode. Is that a chance you want to take?"
DiNozzo stared over at Gibbs who was leaning against the counter. "What are they?" Gibbs asked.
"It's the same medication he was taking in the hospital. Tony, I insist you take them and I don't expect you to argue with me."
Tony hesitated for a moment before surprising Gibbs by grabbing the cup and angrily slamming the pills back, washing them down with coffee.
"Happy?" the field agent asked.
"Very. Now let's talk about tomorrow," Childers' voice was icy, cold.
"What about tomorrow?" Tony's head turned back and forth between the two men.
Gibbs broke the news. "Professor Childers wants us to go to his clinic in Virginia for a while. He thinks he'll be able to help you better there."
Tony gave the doctor a deadly glare. "I don't want to go anywhere with you."
Childers shrugged. "You really don't have a choice. Consider it an upgrade from the federal penitentiary that you could be going to if you refuse to cooperate with me. Take your pick."
Standing, Tony breathed in heavily. "You're a fucking bastard."
Gibbs stepped between them. "Let it go, Tony. Like he said, we don't have a choice. I don't want to start spending my weekends visiting you in the federal pen."
Tony picked up on the "we." "You don't have to go with me, boss. I can handle this." He felt bad enough watching Gibbs bustle around the kitchen with the sling on his arm. This was above and beyond the call of duty.
The lead agent observed the pale skin and dark shadowed eyes underneath the bravado. "I know you can, Tony. But you don't have to." Tony's green eyes softened and his breathing eased; a small, selfish part of him was grateful to know that, even now, the lead agent refused to let him deal with this alone.
Gibbs grabbed his jacket. "I have to go out for a while. I'll drop you off at your hotel, Professor. DiNozzo, you stay put, Abby's coming over to hang out with you. I won't be gone long." He headed for the front door.
Tony moved to leave the room, but Childers stepped in front of him. "That suicide attempt? Don't try it again; I promise the second I find your cold, dead body I'll make sure Gibbs joins you. The two of you can discuss your stupidity in eternity together."
The NCIS agent clenched his fists threateningly. "It's not like the voices you stuck in my head weren't providing their own encouragement," Tony pointed out.
"Well, I'm sure you're right about that. Regardless, you need to ignore them because I've decided you're worth more to me alive. And yes, Gibbs is going with us to Virginia. I need to keep him nearby in case you decide to step out of line." The doctor placed his face close to DiNozzo's. "I own you, Tony. Don't forget that. Do you need me to prove it to you?"
Tony licked his lips and gave the sought for answer. "No. I don't need any proof."
Childers tilted his head to the side. "I'm not so sure," he said, and walked away.
The rough fabric of the orange jumpsuit he had been wearing several days ago jumped into Tony's memory. Since it appeared he was going to have to murder this man in order to protect Gibbs, he hoped his sensitive skin could get used to the scratchy low-grade material. He very well might be wearing it for life.
NCISNCISNCIS
The NCIS agent sat on the bench in the cool morning air watching children playing in the park. "It's not polite to sneak up on people, Kort," he said, sipping from the Styrofoam cup. The tall, bald man took the seat beside him.
"Funny, I hear you do it all the time. Why did you call me, Gibbs?"
The ex-marine nodded at the extra cup waiting for Kort on the bench. "I need a favor."
Kort laughed, picked up the coffee, took a sip and grimaced. "You need another favor from me? This is becoming a habit. Why would I want to help you out again?"
"Same as before. You do something for me, I do something for you. Tit-for-tat."
"It must be pretty important for you to bargain with me, Gibbs. I know I'm not one of your favorite people. What is it you want?"
"Information." Gibbs glanced to the side. "I need to know about a black op that Tony might have gotten mixed up in."
"DiNozzo? What kind of trouble has he gotten himself into this time? If you'd listen to me you might figure out the guy isn't worth half the effort you spend on him."
"He's my friend, Kort. Since you don't have any, it's got to be a hard concept to understand."
The CIA agent smiled. "I thought you were my friend, Gibbs."
The silver-haired man shook his head then briefly explained the situation. Kort looked up at the sky. "It sounds like something the agency could be involved with. Why they would've targeted DiNozzo, I have no idea. I can't believe your pup actually shot you." He glanced at the injured arm still held by the sling. "What exactly do you want me to find out?"
"Who's running this operation and where I can find him."
Kort snorted. "Sounds to me like you want revenge. That never turns out well, Gibbs."
"Let's just say I have a few questions for the person responsible for this. I'd like for you to check out Professor Childers as well; I don't trust the guy."
"And you trust me?" Kort asked innocently.
"Hell no, I don't trust you. But I know you're not dumb enough to turn down a chance to have me owe you one. So you'll do this."
Kort thought for several minutes. "I'll be honest, Gibbs. I like you but I can't stand DiNozzo. Helping him is the last thing I want to spend my time doing. Yet your offer is one I can't refuse. I'll get back in touch in a few days."
The CIA operative stood and threw his coffee cup in the trash can. He laughed. "I would almost pay to see DiNozzo in a prison jumpsuit instead of one of his designer labels." Kort shook his head. "Tell him I said hi."
Gibbs threw his own cup in the trash and stuffed his hand in his jacket pocket. Kort might be an asshole, but owing him was worth it if he was able to get his hands on whoever was behind this mess and was doing everything possible to screw up Tony's life. Especially if that person turned out to be Professor Robert Childers.
NCISNCISNCIS
"Boss!" McGee stood from behind his desk. Ziva looked up from her own. "What are you doing here today? How's Tony? Is he still at your place?"
"Settle down, McGee, you're starting to sound like Abby," Gibbs commented, picking up a few messages from the pile on his desk.
"We have been waiting to hear from you. What is happening with Tony?" Ziva added.
"He's ok, staying at my house. Childers wants to take him to his clinic in Virginia, see if he can get him to remember anything about what happened. I'm going with him."
"How long will you be gone?" Ziva asked.
"I don't know yet. I've got to talk to the Director. You two see what you can find out about this clinic we're going to."
"On it, boss," McGee replied, rounding his desk to his computer. He winced a little when he bumped his side.
Gibbs stopped. "How's that wound, Tim?"
McGee glanced up cautiously. "Fine, boss. Just a little sore, but much better."
"Good. Don't push it too hard."
"I….I won't, boss. Uh, thanks," Tim answered as Gibbs left for Vance's office. He looked fearfully at Ziva.
"Why is he being so nice? Tony's right, Gibbs' nice is downright creepy."
Ziva folded her arms. "I would guess he is more worried about Tony than he cares to admit."
NCISNCISNCIS
"You have no idea how long this will take?" Vance asked.
"Nope."
"I can't approve for you two to be gone indefinitely, Gibbs. We do still have an office to run here."
"I know, Leon. Give me two weeks. If we don't get anywhere in that amount of time, we'll reevaluate," Gibbs suggested.
"What if Childers won't release him after two weeks, Gibbs? What if this guy wants to keep him, hell with Tony listed as an enemy combatant he could keep him forever if he wants. Have you thought about that?" Vance challenged.
"Yes, Leon, I have thought about that. That's why you and the team need to find out who took Tony and bring the bastard in. If we can get some leverage maybe we can get Tony out of this."
"You want to trade whoever is behind the op for DiNozzo's freedom?"
"It might work," Gibbs provided. "You got any better ideas?"
Vance tapped his fingers on his desk. "No, no I don't. I'll keep digging on this end and let you know when something comes up."
"Thanks, Leon. You might grow into that chair, yet." Gibbs smiled.
The Director picked up a toothpick and pointed it at the lead agent. "I have my own rules, Gibbs. And the first one is that we protect our own."
"Not a bad rule, Leon. Not a bad rule at all."
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs walked back through the bullpen. "Find out anything on that clinic?"
Ziva stood. "It has been in operation for five years. Dr. Childers describes it as a place for treatment and research of severe neurological disorders."
"There's no clear funding stream, boss. The money to operate the facility comes from a variety of unidentified off shore accounts and unnamed clients. It could take a while to sort it out," McGee provided.
Gibbs mulled that information over. "Keep working on it, McGee."
"You do not trust Professor Childers, do you?" Ziva asked.
The lead agent sighed. "He's too interested in using Tony for his own benefit. I'm not sure if he cares how DiNozzo comes out of this," he said softly.
"If he does not protect Tony's well-being he will have us to answer to," she said firmly.
Gibbs smiled at her resolve. They might fuss and fight like a bunch of kids, but when it came down to it no one else could touch them. "Damn right about that." The lead agent turned toward the elevator. "Get the rest of the team together and have them at my house at 1800 hours."
"What for?" Ziva asked, as the elevator doors opened and he stepped inside.
"Dinner." The older man flashed his wry grin when the doors closed in front of him.
NCISNCISNCIS
"That has got to be my favorite part of the whole movie," Abby said, grinning giddily. "Really, Palmer, whatever made you pick "E.T.?"
The young man shrugged. "Tony said to pick anything I wanted, and you've got to admit this is a classic. I loved it when I was a kid."
They had just watched the young boys fly across the moon with ET in the bike basket. "Great choice, Palmer. At least I've heard of this one, not like some of those "classics" that Tony forces on us." McGee teased his partner.
"You have no appreciation for cinema," Tony mumbled, his head lying in Abby's lap. She stroked his hair lazily. He had been right; the medication had made it nearly impossible for him to stay awake for an entire two hour movie. "Now be quiet, you're going to miss the really emotional scenes."
The group had arrived at Gibbs' house as requested. Their boss had outdone himself, serving dinner of steak, baked potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and chocolate cake for desert. They were all of Tony's favorites, but the senior field agent barely picked at the meal; he was too nervous trying to figure out what Childers planned to do once he got them to Virginia.
Shortly after a dinner filled with suspicious looks thrown his way, the professor had been smart enough to call a cab and go back to his hotel for the night.
"The doctor in this movie kind of reminds me of Professor Childers," McGee said with a shudder.
"I guess that makes me ET," Tony said glumly.
"McGee!" Abby chastised. "You're upsetting him!"
"It's ok Abs. I don't really know why the good professor wants to pick through my brain anyway. Most people agree there isn't much there."
Ziva smirked. "I was wondering why the names and measurements of all the GSM models for the last ten years were a threat to national security."
"Don't forget their sexual preferences, Zee-Vah, there's a lot a girl can do with a can of whipped cream."
"Tony!" Abby exclaimed. He winced in preparation for a head-slap, but she kissed him on the cheek instead. He beamed up at her and snuggled more comfortably into her lap. McGee rolled his eyes dramatically.
Gibbs watched the exchange from the door of the kitchen where he and Ducky were drinking coffee and tidying up.
"You checked out those pills yet?" Gibbs asked the ME.
"Yes, Jethro. They all appear relatively safe and appropriate considering the headaches, seizures, and hallucinations Tony has been experiencing. The doses are quite high, but I can't argue with the medications themselves. The biggest problems are the side-effects; I can understand Tony's comparison to feeling like a zombie. It reminds me of a case I treated in Haiti; the local community had been in an uproar over what they called "zombie attacks", but it turns out…"
Gibbs looked at the physician tiredly.
"Right. Another time perhaps. Regardless, I think it wise for him to take the medication until we can be sure he is no longer experiencing any symptoms."
"Alright. I'll keep making him take them."
Ducky clapped his hand on the lead agent's back. "I have faith you'll get to the bottom of this, Jethro. Tony has faith in you, too."
Gibbs took another drink of his coffee. He better than anyone knew that sometimes faith alone wasn't nearly enough.
NCISNCISNCIS
After everyone else had left, Abby lingered, Tony snoring softly with his head still nestled on her lap. When Gibbs finally gave her the stare that meant it was long past time for her to go, she eased him to the couch and stood. Gibbs helped her slide into her black coat with black feathered trim. The Goth grimaced and rubbed her stomach. "Anything wrong?" the lead agent asked.
"Just a little tummy ache. I guess I ate too much of your chocolate cake," she grinned, before giving him a peck on the cheek. "Good night." Frowning, she placed a hand on her stomach again. "Way too much cake." She shook her head at the suddenly intense discomfort. She smiled to cover the stabbing pain, not wanting to give Gibbs any more to worry about. "You call me as soon as you guys get there. Promise?"
"Promise, Abs. Now get home and put yourself to bed."
"On it, bossman," she answered, scooting out the door.
Gibbs took a blanket out of the closet and placed it over Tony, deciding not to wake him since he looked more peaceful than he had in days, even though there were still lines of worry etched between his eyes. Gibbs' gut was telling him that they hadn't even scratched the surface of what had happened to the younger man.
The silver-haired agent wasn't exactly sure what to expect from their sojourn to Childers' clinic, or if this would end up helping or hurting Tony, but he had decided to follow one of his unofficial rules.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. If Childers was involved with Tony's disappearance, this trip to Virginia would be his best chance to find out.
