Chapter 9
AU: I am so very sorry for the long wait. I have been a very bad person and I apologize. I could make up really good excuses, but I really don't have any. Some of you might not like the ending as it may seem rushed, but I really wanted to post it before more time went by. Nonetheless, here is the final chapter and I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you for all your reviews, your favourites, follows and patience, it means so much. If I could go to each and every one of your houses and give you chocolate, I would. Sadly, I can't. Once again, thank you so much! On with the story!
Warning: Swear words.
"Hey, Tony," McGee called out to the sleeping agent as he opened the back door. "We're here. Come on, let's go."
McGee shook Tony's shoulders lightly as he looked on, concern etched on his face. Tony was usually such a light sleeper, even when he was sick, and McGee hated to see him so vulnerable.
A few seconds passed by before Tony started mumbling. He opened his eyes and squinted up at the anxious face leaning over him.
"I'm up. Geez McGee, you're like an annoying bee. Now, shh." Tony said. He rubbed his eyes sluggishly before he got out of the car slowly. Holding on to McGee, he slowly walked up the steps towards Gibbs' front entrance.
They waited as Ziva opened the door and pushed aside to let them in.
"We have been ordered to stay here until Gibbs arrives. Abby is coming later as well. As is Ducky. In fact, I think even Jimmy will be swaying by here soon." Ziva informed him.
"Swaying?" McGee mouthed towards Tony.
He was still holding on to the Italian, afraid even the slightest wind will push him off his feet.
"I'm good, McGee," Tony softly, as if he read his mind. He pushed away the helping hand and shuffled to the nearby couch. The recovering agent rolled his eyes upwards and dropped like a sack of potatoes on the living room couch.
"I think you mean swinging, young grasshopper." Tony corrected Ziva. He groaned as he raised his legs slowly and placed his head on the armrest.
"My lessons have all gone to a waste. I must reteach you," he mumbled.
Ziva was prepared to tell him that she was at least healthy enough to last an hour before passing out but was cut off by a loud sound of a car screech in the garage way. Ziva looked down at her watch and turned towards McGee.
"It has been 17 minutes. Pay up, McGee."
McGee took out his wallet and grudgingly passed her a twenty-dollar note.
Gibbs took that moment to open the front door and bust in.
"Wait..." Tony looked at Gibbs then at McGee. "You bet that Gibbs would last more than twenty minutes at a meeting? What's wrong with you?"
"At least he's less trouble than you," Gibbs said. "A tech was having trouble with a video call and I snuck out. Vance knows better to call me back." He turned suddenly towards Tony.
"What are you doing on the couch?"
Gibbs knew there was something off about Tony. Mind you, other than the fact that he recently survived complete paralysis. Ever since he visited him last night, the agent was quiet- more sullen and trying to hard to pretend everything was all right.
"Huh?... Just tired," Tony replied.
Gibbs looked skeptical before asking if he wanted something to eat.
"No thanks, boss. If I see any food I'll vomit."
Ziva looked on in astonishment. "Passing on food. Maybe he is dying."
There was a change in the environment immediately. Ziva didn't understand and probably would never realize that she practically mimicked one of the last few moments the team had with Kate.
A fleeting memory of Chinese food, Kate's smiling face and the horrors of the plague floated through Tony's mind and he suddenly felt more exhausted than he had ever been in his entire injury-prone life.
If it were possible, Tony's pale face got even paler.
"All right then," Gibbs broke the silence, trying to deflect the surging reactions, "Let's get you upstairs."
Gibbs reached towards Tony to help him get up but Tony blocked his hands and sat up on the couch.
"I'm fine. What's it with everyone thinking I can't move without one of you holding on to me?... It's not like I'm gonna fall on my face." His mood had taken a turn for the worse and he wanted nothing more than to sleep the rest of the day. Being ill sucked.
He took a few moments before finally standing up. He felt the suddenness of a head rush but did his best to avoid expressing anything.
Tony took a small step and turned towards the stairs. It just seemedso far.
He can do this. He can prove them wrong.
Five steps left.
An internal mantra of almost there, just a few more, you got this repeated on and on, pushing him towards his goal.
Four more.
Almost there, you got this, almost there, just a few left.
Three.
Just three, just three more, that's nothing, come on.
But that appeared to be his limit.
Tony swayed for a few moments, waiting for the dizziness to pass and willing to crawl up the stairs rather than be humiliated.
The Italian knew the rest of the team was watching his back- ready to help at the slightest demand- but he was sick and tired of being incompetent. He had to do this. There was no other option.
He took one more step.
The black spots fogged up his vision faster than it was possible and the hardwood floor rushed up towards him.
He wasn't too sure, but it looked like he'll be hugging the floor soon.
That sounded kinda nice.
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Gibbs watched on painfully as Tony shuffled across the living room towards the stairs. He knew it meant a lot to the younger agent to still be able to move around by himself and maintain some of his dignity. He watched Tony take slow painful steps before stopping and starting to sway.
Ignoring the agony his bum knee caused at too-quick movements, Gibbs crossed the room and tightly grabbed on to Tony before he had the chance to break his neck.
"Yeah, you're perfectly fine." Gibbs said. "McGee! Get over here and help me take him upstairs."
McGee rushed towards them, tucked his right arm around Tony's waste and raised Tony's left arm above his shoulders. On the other side, Gibbs held Tony's right arm across his shoulders and together they slowly shuffled up the stairs.
"I will start lunch," they heard Ziva cry behind them.
"Man, Tony," McGee grunted, "For a sick guy, you're still pretty heavy."
"It was those milkshakes they made me keep drinking," Tony mumbled in reply. "I wanna sleep," he added as an afterthought.
Thankfully they had reached the top of the stairs by that time and it was just a few steps to the bedroom. Once there, they stepped in the room and walked towards the bed.
A few awkward moments passed by as the three men tried to maneuver Tony onto the bed in as little pain as possible.
Gibbs grunted.
Tony sweat.
And McGee swore softly as he stubbed his foot at the edge of the bed.
Like a child caught in the act, McGee swerved his eyes towards Gibbs, hoping the lead agent hadn't heard anything. But Gibbs had ignored him and instead was helping Tony out of the sweatshirt and tossing him a t-shirt instead.
"Thanks, guys," Tony whispered to them as he shut his eyes.
McGee left the room to go help Ziva but Gibbs held back.
"You get a nice nap, Tony, because starting tomorrow I'm working you hard. I've got an excellent training plan I've prepared out for you."
Tony had almost faded away to blissful darkness but when he heard the words training and prepared by Gibbs, he snapped his eyes open.
"Training plan?" He said with a slight sense of horror.
Gibbs huffed out a small laugh and patted Tony's head, "Good night."
Gibbs walked towards the hall and just as he was about to close the door, he turned and with a small smile asked, "Was it 200 or 300 pounds you boasted about lifting a few months ago?"
"I never said that," Tony replied in shock, too tired to note the teasing.
"Hmm…I guess I'll have to adjust that."
And with that, Gibbs went downstairs while Tony turned on his right side to sleep- trying to ignore the image of being crushed down by giant dumbbells.
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By the time Tony woke from his nap, the rest of the team had arrived. Abby took one look at Tony and started pestering him for missing lunch. She quickly took his hand and made him sit down on the kitchen stool while she prepared him a light sandwich. She placed a cup in front oh him and forced him to drink at least half the milkshake.
The frequent naps Tony had in the middle of the day made him both lethargic at times and energized at others. They had all taken turns to joke with Tony and he was all up for it but it started becoming frustrating after a while.
He was thankful the team was here and everything but for some reason he just wanted the day to end. It seemed like forever ago he left the hospital and took a nap and ate lunch and joked with the team, but he just wanted a fresh new day to begin his life renewed.
It was early by the time the team had to leave but it was still a weekday and they all had to wake up early.
"Bye, Tony," Jimmy and Abby said at the same time when they walked out the door.
"Oh yeah," said Jimmy, "And good luck with Gibbs tomorrow."
Gibbs and Tony were finally alone in the house. The team had cleaned up before they left so there was really nothing for them left to do.
"Good luck? What's the gremlin talking about?" Asked Tony.
To Gibbs, Tony sounded tired but also a bit hostile. There was something going with Tony and Gibbs wanted to get down to it.
"What? You already forgot?" He joked, in hoping to dispel the miserable look facing back at him.
"So that training plan thing is real? I thought I was dreaming!"
"The director," Gibbs noted it would be easier if he just blamed Vance, "decided that the best way to get you back to work was if I took half days. Half the day helping you build up your fitness and the other half back at the navy yard."
"Is that even possible? Like physically? Are you really capable of staying in the same premises as me instead of the office?"
It was a weak attempt of a joke, even for Tony.
"We'll see how you're laughing tomorrow when you fall on your ass."
And while Tony laughed at that, he hadn't really accepted that it would come true.
Like, literally.
The next morning, a surprisingly smiling Gibbs waked Tony at exactly 5 am.
"It's time," he told Tony.
It almost sounded like he was in a horror movie and the evil bloke suddenly decided that it was time for him to die.
"It's five o'clock," Tony groaned, "I thought sleep was good for me."
"You've had enough sleep. I've talked to your ducky and your doc. They said that we can start training."
He threw the training clothes he had grabbed for Tony's apartment earlier on and threw them at the Italian.
"Get up and shower. You have ten minutes." And with that, Gibbs turned around and left.
Tony moaned loudly before shuffling out of bed and towards the washroom. He counted mississipply and took an exact eight-minute shower. He couldmultitask, you know?
By the time he dressed and went downstairs, Gibbs had prepared a mouth-watering breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast.
"We're gonna eat then go for a short jog," Gibbs said. "We'll start off easy."
Tony started eating before he asked, "Are you sure that's a good idea? Cause yesterday I almost passed out walking to the stairs."
He was still tired and while he knew Gibbs sensed something off about him, he tried ignoring it.
"You were drugged and hadn't slept well...again, I talked to your doctors."
"Well then, someone's been checking up on me." Tony started after stuffing as much as he could in his mouth, "let's get started, shall we?"
He grabbed the glass of orange juice and chugged it down.
"Slow down there, cowboy. I said we're going for a jog not run a marathon," but Gibbs was laughing and already opening the door. "I swear you're like a pregnant women. Mood swings all over the place."
Oh, Gibbs, if you only knew.
They had started off slow, about 50 meters walking, before Gibbs started jogging slowly. Tony followed him en suite, but he had started huffing already.
"Boss, slow down," he panted, "it's just the first day. Why are we running already?"
"DiNozzo, I walk faster than this! Keep up."
Tony decided to save his breath rather than respond. But after 15 agonizing minutes of painfully embarrassing jogging techniques, he stumbled over his feet and smacked hard into the sidewalk.
Gibbs, who was a few feet ahead of him, heard the soft yelp and turned around quickly.
"Tony," Gibbs ran to Tony's side, worried he might have pushed the recovering agent too hard. He was just so intent in getting Tony back into the game.
The Italian groaned as Gibbs turned him around to lay facing up.
"Ughhhh," Tony swipped his hand under his nose and looked in disbelief at the blood smeared on his fingers.
"I'm bleeding. My nose is bleeding, boss."
"Yea, I can see that," Gibbs replied. "Get up before you get a sun burn. Let's walk back home," he added guiltily.
Tony stayed where he was but lifted his arms, too tired to get up on his own. Still, Gibbs rolled his eyes, held on to the agent's hand and pulled, stumbling backwards a little.
"You're gonna have to carry me, Boss. I don't see myself walking even ten feet on my own."
Feeling a little responsible for the bloody nose, Gibbs lifted Tony's right arm across his shoulders and held on to Tony's side.
Tony's panting was all that was heard on the walk back home. Gibbs stayed quiet, but only once were they a few feet home did he realize what was so off about Tony.
And boy, was he angry.
Gibbs decided to talk to Tony once they both showered and did not smell of dirt, blood and sweat.
While Tony showered, Gibbs tried to think about the past few days. Everything seemed normal but his gut was telling him something else and Tony wasn't helping. Constant mood changes, happy one moment, frustrated the next, sleeping all the time- it annoyed Gibbs when he was at a lost. And it angered him even more when it was Tony who usually made him feel this way.
"What are you trying to accomplish?" Gibbs asked Tony as he sprawled out on the couch after his shower.
That was not how he meant to start the conversation. He had prepared everything he was going to say, but it flew out the window the moment Tony came out the bathroom.
Tony looked back at him with a confused expression. Gibbs had to give him credit. It was a pretty good oblivious look he was expressing.
"What? Boss-,"
"Yes, boss. Exactly. I'm your boss. Why are you trying to get rid of me?"
"Seriously, Gibbs. You've lost me. What is with this suddenness? What are you on about?"
"Don't insult me, Tony." Gibbs stood close to Tony. "Taking your pills exactly when someone tells you too, giving us your joyful cover, not even trying to get back to work. I've been worried sick since the moment you passed out on the field and now since you've left the hospital, something's changed and I can't shake it off. What are you trying to do?"
"What is this, an intervention? Are you actually lecturing me because I'm finally taking care of myself for once? Gibbs, I was paralyzed for weeks. You don't know how that feels," Tony's voice got louder as he spoke. Ever since seeing the doctor yesterday, he was pissed and Gibbs getting up in his face wasn't helping any, "you don't understand how frightening it is to not have any control over your body. Don't you dare look at me, and start insinuating things that make no sense."
"I understand tha-"
"No you don't. You-"
"Hey! Listen to me," Gibbs cut him off. "Yes, you got sick. But you got better. You got better DiNozzo, but something happened recently. I know you Tony. I know when something's happened. Tell me what's going on. Please."
"Please?" Tony repeated exasperatedly, "You're just pulling out the big guns, aren't you? There. is. nothing. going. on."
Tony looked at Gibbs defiantly, daring him to go on.
Gibbs ignored the death look and sat on the couch beside Tony. They stared quietly at the T.V in front of them.
"I don't understand what's happening in your head right now DiNozzo, but you're hurting yourself by hiding," Gibbs said softly.
"You don't understand boss. That's exactly it. You can't understand."
"Then help me understand!" Gibbs all but yelled as he turned to face the agent.
Tony stood up abruptly, trying to get away from Gibbs as much as possible. He walked towards the window facing the street. It was still bright and sunny but it looked like it might rain soon. Huge dark clouds were on their way and it was about to get gloomy.
Just like his mood.
"I can't, boss. Not now. I'll tell you soon, but just not today. I can't face it myself."
Gibbs regulated his breathing before walking towards Tony and looking out the window beside him. He hesitated slightly before placing his hand on the Italians shoulder.
"Tony, whatever this thing is, we'll face it together. I'm not trying to make this some cheesy hallmark moment, but you're hurting me too son. You're trying to hide it, but I can see right through you and I can't sit by the side and watch you destroy yourself. Help me so we can help you."
"It's not that easy."
Tony wanted to tell him. He really did, but he didn't want to believe it himself. He's being trying to ignore what was told to him but he just couldn't avoid it. It was all consuming. He couldn't escape it. His future was being held on the line.
"It's gonna start raining soon," Tony said glumly.
"Yea. At least we had a short run. Stop deflecting."
Tony sighed heavily. He slid down the wall and huffed out a trembling breath when he hit the floor. A half-smile lit his face when he saw Gibbs sit down next to him.
"First the window, now this. We don't have to be on even levels just to talk," Tony said.
Gibbs remained quiet. He new that Tony was avoiding the subject. But they weren't going to do anything else today until they got to the bottom of this.
A few minutes passed by before Tony started speaking.
"The night…" he trailed off.
The lead agent wanted nothing else but to shake some sense into Tony and make him blurt out what was bothering him. He wanted Tony to speak up but he knew that if he interrupted now, then he would never get another chance.
"The night before I was released from the hospital, a few hours before you arrived, the doctor, he…"
Gibbs couldn't hold it back. "Tony," He put his hand on Tony's thigh, "I know you're probably feeling scared and vulnerable right now, but whatever this thing is, I'll help you through it."
"I have to quit."
Even though Gibbs was expecting something as sudden as this, it still felt wrong hearing it.
Tony wasn't looking at Gibbs to see the totally shaken look he was expressing. He was staring straight ahead; face pale but stony.
A simple why came out of Gibbs lips. Nothing else seemed possible. For once in his life, Gibbs was completely speechless. Sure he's known as the functional mute, but his thoughts were always skyrocketing ahead of him. This time, it's as if his brain was frozen. No thoughts were incoming.
"The doctor said what with the scarring from the plague and the paralysis from the poisoning, my lungs won't be able to handle any more stress and would place too much pressure on my heart. Something about pulmonary circulation or whatever."
Tony sighed heavily before looking down on at lap.
"That's bullshit. We'll prove him wrong," Gibbs simply told him.
"Boss, please don't. Even I'm surprised I survived. The doc said even a small chest infection can lead to respiratory or heart failure. And what with being a field agent, running around all the time, it'll be too much."
"Tony, this isn't like you. You've always faced death with the utmost determination to obliterate it. Why are you giving up so easily? We'll get you the best rehab treatment there is. I know you can do this. What do you think will happen to Abby or Ducky or the rest of the team when they find out you want to quit."
Faster than he could even sense it, Tony stood up and looked down at Gibbs, hard-faced.
"Don't you dare guilt me into anything! You think I want to quit? Being a field agent is my life! What the hell am I supposed to do with crap lungs?"
Gibbs stood up, put both his hands on the agents shoulders and looked directly at him.
"You haven't even thought about this-"
"Fuck you, Gibbs! It's all I've been thinking about! I'm fucking tired of hiding –"
Gibbs shouted. "Listen to me, goddammit! You must really think I'm gonna accept your resignation if you've started foul mouthing me. You don't have to quit. You'll do physio. You'll do rehab. You'll take as much time as you need and if you still cant work, there's tons of things to do other than being a field agent."
"Aren't you listening Gibbs? Being a field agent is all I want to do. There's nothing else for me. I won't be a pencil pusher, I wont."
"Then you won't be." He told him softly. "Hell, you just got out of the hospital yesterday. You haven't even looked at any other options yet."
They stood quietly for a few moments before Gibbs spoke again.
"Okay," he started, "You'll still work hot cases with the team. And in a few months, after physio and weekly checkups with your docs, I'll find a way for you to get back on the field. Be it, you stick by my side at all times, no chases or heavy-duty work, then fine!
"I don't want a fucking babysitter, Gibbs."
"I'm not your babysitter. Do you really think I'd wanna hear your yabba-yabba all day? We will figure it out. I'm sure Ducky has some new rehabilitation programs set up for you already. And heck, I'm more likely to have a heart attack before you! Or you know what, I'm pretty sure Abby will just scare your lungs into working again."
A half smile lit Tony's face, indicating that he had calmed down a bit.
"Okay," Tony sighed. "I can live with being a half-field agent. No big running races, no heavy machinery, no sleepless nights, but still work with the team. Okay," he started mumbling. "I'll find a way to work around that."
Gibbs smiled and patted his agent's cheek, "Atta boy."
"Now, let's eats. I'm starving."
"You just ate breakfast a while ago," Gibbs said, surprised at the turn of events.
"Boss," Tony looked at him exasperatedly and pointed to himself, "how do you think this bad boy is gonna get better if he doesn't eat food. Food makes me happy and gives me energy. Happiness is good for the soul and energy helps the body. Geez, I am a phys. Ed major, after all."
"Stop trying too hard to avoid the subject," but Gibbs was laughing and rolling his eyes. He walked towards the kitchen, determined to make Tony's favourite snack.
Sure Tony had a huge fight against him, but with his team on his side, it might just not be that hard. He had a job, he had amazing friends, he had a family. If they suffered through all his troubles before, they sure as hell can handle this with him as well.
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EPILOGUE
Six months and four days later.
"Well Tony, I don't know how you did it, but your lungs are looking very healthy. Not perfect, mind you, but good enough to get back on the field."
Tony had been waiting for the results from Dr. Ogilvie for a few hours now and that sentence was the probably the best string of words he has ever heard in his life.
"Really?" Tony exclaimed. "I'm good? Cause you know, that rehabilitation center in San Diego was really hard to get in. Actually no, Ducky just has really good connections."
"Yes, I think you can finally get away from your desk for a few hours every day, but no high-tailing races, got that?"
"No marathons, check."
"I'm serious, Tony. You might be in much better shape than you were a few month back, but you still have to take care of yourself," the physician advised.
"I got you, doc. I'll be careful. I won't do anything serious alone. I'll continue with these constant checkups, even though I'd rather cut my tongue off, eat healthy, the whole shebang."
"Good, good. And I know you don't want to be here. I would rather not see you here too, no offense, I'm just talking about your health. Just don't forget that it is for your own sake."
"Well, Dr. Ogilvie, I couldn't have done it without you."
They stood up at the same time, shook hands and said their goodbyes.
"Thank you. I know I've probably made your year very hectic, but thanks."
"Just doing my job," Dr. Ogilvie replied.
"Really? Getting called up at least five times in the middle of the night to reassure my nighttime paranoia that my recurrent mild coughs were normal, is just your job?"
"Yes well, maybe I just like you, Tony."
"Slow down there doc, you need to buy me dinner first."
"Ha ha," the doctor laughed dryly. "Now get out, before I kick you out," he joked.
"Don't need to tell me twice," Tony smiled, "have a wonderful day doctor."
The senior field agent walked out of the room and towards the exit of the hospital. He bundled up his winter jacket and stepped outside.
He was the least bit surprised when he saw Gibbs waiting against his car.
"You following me, Boss?"
"Nah, thought maybe this kid I work with might enjoy some company after an important day like today," Gibbs joked. "Jokes aside Tony, what did the doctor say," Gibbs said in reply.
Tony sighed heavily before opening the driver's door and stepping inside. Really, winter was having the time of its life this year, wasn't it? God, it was freezing. He waited for Gibbs to enter the car before you replied.
"He said that my lungs were still in bad shape and doesn't see me getting back anytime soon," Tony tried to hide the smile as Gibbs started shouting.
"The hell you aren't!" Gibbs yelled, "Who does he think he is? Saying shit like that should-"
"Woah woah, Boss, calm down. I'm kidding! Man… you're one to take a joke."
"Don't ever say something like that again. This is your life we're talking about. And I've been freezing my ass out here waiting for good results."
"But your car is right there, and aw, you were worried?" Tony got a head smack in return.
"Gibbs! Did you just assault a federal field agent?"
"Field?" Gibbs smiled, his heart racing from trying to keep up with Tony's childish tactics.
Tony nodded and raised his eyebrows.
"You can get back on the field?" Gibbs laughed, "Hell, I knew that the whole time. The doc finally said you're good, huh?"
Tony looked at Gibbs slyly and smiled.
"I'm the king of the world."
END
