Chapter 10

It was the night after DiNozzo's discharge from hospital. He was feeling a lot better and was glad to be home. His dad and Ziva were making a fuss, which suited him fine. Ziva had rented a few old movies to keep him occupied while his dad had ordered Chinese food. Tony was sick of hospital food and had been craving Chinese food for days.

As they sat and ate, Tony raised a subject that was on his mind.

"I'm worried about Gibbs," he announced, through a mouthful of fried rice.

"I thought he was doing better," his dad replied.

"Sure, he's getting better, I guess. It's just ... well, he's not himself. It's like he's given up," Tony explained.

"Gibbs? Give up?" Ziva said. "That's not like him."

"I know," Tony replied. "That's why I'm worried. If I didn't know better, I'd think he was scared."

"Come on, Tony. Have you ever seen Gibbs afraid of anything?" Ziva asked.

"Of course not, but, I can't explain it. He doesn't know what the doctors will say when they run those tests, and I think he's scared of what lies ahead," Tony explained.

"Well, if it was me, I'd be scared," DiNozzo Senior commented. "His life could be about to change forever. That's a big deal, especially at our age."

"At our age? Dad, Gibbs is nowhere near your age," Tony reminded him.

"He's not that much younger than I am," Senior replied with mock offence.

"Sure, Dad," Tony said, placating him.

"Well, whatever happens, he's not going to have to go through it alone," Tony said, picking up a sticky piece of sweet and sour pork.

"Absolutely," Ziva replied. "We're family."

"To family," DiNozzo Senior said, raising his bottle of beer in a toast.

"Family," Tony and Ziva responded.

During the initial few days following Gibbs' reawakening, Ducky had been a regular visitor. His life revolved around the office and the hospital, only returning home for a shower, a change of clothes and some shut-eye. At first his greatest concern was for Jethro's physical recovery, but as he regained some strength, Ducky noticed his disposition was not what it should be. He did his best to raise his friend's spirits. Now, he felt sorry for Gibbs, who was in a form of limbo, not knowing where his life was heading. Ducky offered reassurances and words of encouragement, which appeared to fall on deaf ears. Gibbs withdrew emotionally from his friends more and more each day. Ducky felt useless. He wanted so much to help his friend, but despite his best efforts, Gibbs pulled away. It was as if he just couldn't accept that his life was possibly about to change.

Ducky was so worried about Gibbs' state of mind that he found it difficult to concentrate on work. One such day, Vance paid an uncharacteristic visit to Autopsy. He found Ducky staring into space, standing over the body of a recently deceased Marine.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" he asked, sensing something was bothering the good doctor.

"Oh, Director, you startled me," Ducky said, instantly snapping out of his daydream.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," Vance said apologetically.

"Is there something I can do for you, Director?" Ducky asked, putting down the scalpel he was holding.

"No, I just came down to ask you how Agent Gibbs was when you visited him earlier," Vance told him.

"Oh," Ducky said, his smile vanishing.

"Is there something wrong?" Vance enquired.

"Not exactly. Physically, he's improving, but to be honest I'm worried about him. He won't talk about what happened or about what may happen. He just stares at the TV or the ceiling. He was never the most talkative of men at the best of times, but it's like getting blood from a stone lately. He's not even trying to get back on his feet," Ducky explained.

"Well, he has been through a lot. He's lucky to be alive," Vance reminded him.

"I do realise that, Leon, but there's a difference between being alive and living. Right now, he's given up on living. I know it's going to be difficult but he needs to take that first step. It seems to me that he's afraid to face his own weakness," Ducky surmised. "He's a proud man but he's going to need help. And if I know him, he won't ask."

"But he knows we're all behind him, right?" Vance asked.

"Of course, but to get through this, he has to let people in and he's not very good at that," Ducky reminded him.

"I know," Vance agreed. "That I know."

That evening, Gibbs' father paid a visit and then Tobias Fornell stopped by later that same night. Fornell was relieved that his friend was recovering. He remembered being there the first night they brought him in, when the outlook seemed so bleak. Considering all that, he was thankful to be able to sit and chat with his old pal. The only problem was, Jethro wasn't exactly in a chatty frame of mind.

"So, are you going to need physical therapy?" Fornell asked, trying to engage Gibbs in some conversation.

Gibbs just shrugged, not wanting to discuss it with Fornell or anyone else.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Fornell asked, not happy at being ignored.

Gibbs looked at him, his expression stony and motioned with his hand from his head along his entire body.

"This," he replied dolefully.

"Yeah, well I can't blame you. You never were much to look at," Tobias joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Gibbs almost smiled and shook his head. Only Fornell would use insults as a tool to try and cheer him up.

"You'd think you'd be used to it by now," Fornell laughed. "So, what did the doctors say? Are you getting outta here?"

"Do you really want to know, Tobias?" Gibbs asked with a hint of aggression. "I think the medical term is "screwed". My heart is probably damaged and every breath I take is agony. They may as well start looking for my replacement."

"Oh, I get it. This is your out, your excuse to give up," Fornell said, unimpressed by his uncharacteristic attitude.

Gibbs just glared at him. What would he know?

"What? I don't believe you want to end up a sorry old fool who gave up on life. I won't let you walk away from what you've got," Fornell said adamantly. He wasn't the sort to let a friend escape th truth.

"Walk away? Is that a joke?" Gibbs scoffed. "Have you looked at me lately? I'm stuck in this bed. I can hardly move."

"Have you tried?" Fornell snapped instantly.

His retort struck a chord with Gibbs. The truth was that he hadn't tried. He hadn't tried out of fear of failing. What if he couldn't do it? He would have to admit that he needed help. He was a proud man, but unfortunately pride usually came before a fall.

"C'mon, Gibbs, you'll be up and about before you know it. A few weeks of physical therapy and you'll be the same old arrogant bastard you always were," Fornell told him, sticking to his original insulting tactics.

"Gee, thanks, Tobias…I think?" Gibbs replied, his words dripping sarcasm.

Fornell grinned, knowing deep down that Gibbs was actually grateful. He felt sorry for his friend, who was going through so much at the moment. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if the shoe was on the other foot. But he did know that if it was he lying in that bed, Jethro wouldn't stand by and let him go through it alone. Whether Gibbs liked it or not, Tobias was going to push his buttons and hound him, if that was what it took to get him through this.

The next day, Tony was true to his word and he and Ziva arrived into Gibbs' hospital room full of enthusiasm. Gibbs was sitting up and awake when they arrived but didn't seem very happy to see them. Behind his mask, he did notice how much better Tony looked. He had colour back in his cheeks and a spring in his step.

"Good morning, Boss," Tony said, "How do you feel this fine morning?"

"I haven't had my coffee yet," Gibbs grumbled.

Yikes! Gibbs without coffee is never good, both Tony and Ziva realised. They exchanged worried glances.

"Okay," Tony said tentatively. "Are you ready to get out of that bed?"

Gibbs didn't answer. He tried to glare at his senior agent, but his nervousness dampened the usual intensity of his renowned glare.

"Don't worry, Boss," Tony said, sensing his anxiety. "I've checked with the nurse. She said it's about time you were up and about. And she said that if you didn't get up, she was going to come in here and ….. well, use your imagination. Trust me, you don't want that. Have you seen her?"

Gibbs gave a nervous chuckle. Only Tony could make him laugh when he's this scared, he thought. But he didn't want Ziva and Tony to see his fear. He had no choice. He had to at least make some effort. He threw back the covers, revealing an unflattering hospital gown and a pair of knobbly knees. Ziva took a step closer to the bed as Gibbs took a deep breath and tried to move his leaden legs out of the bed. His abdominal muscles screamed at him and he could feel the pull on his surgical wound as he painstakingly twisted to his right. Ziva gently took hold of his elbow. He looked at her, wondering if she could sense his trepidation as he made it to the edge of the bed.

Ziva looked into the eyes of the man she so admired. She felt like she could see straight into his soul. A mixture of apprehension, sadness and fear swirled around inside. She felt him tremble as she held his arm. His forehead already bore a sheen of perspiration as he slid forward off the mattress to place his feet on the ground. As his feet touched the ground, she supported his weight. Tony came towards them to take his other arm, but Gibbs stopped him.

"No, DiNozzo," he said with determination. "Don't want you hurting yourself again."

"I'm fine, Boss. I came to help," Tony replied, feeling a little slighted.

"Please," Gibbs said softly.

Gibbs looked into his eyes and Tony met his gaze. There was an unspoken moment of understanding, and then Tony stood back and allowed Gibbs to his feet. He swayed noticeable, but Ziva used her strength to correct his balance. She allowed him to do everything at his own pace. Gibbs emitted a slight grunt as he tried to straighten up. It caused too much discomfort, so he remained slightly hunched.

"Are you okay?" Ziva enquired, as Gibbs paused where he stood.

He was deliberately concentrating on his breathing as well as trying to deal with the dizziness he was experiencing. He nodded to her.

"Okay, Boss. One foot after the other, you remember how it goes?" Tony said, coaching from the sidelines.

Gibbs wanted so badly to give him a clout behind the ear, but luckily for Tony, he was standing far out of reach. Ziva smiled at Tony's cheekiness and the intense glare Gibbs was hurling at him was priceless.

Through gritted teeth, Gibbs took his first wavering step since he was shot. It was a significant moment, lost on Gibbs, but fully appreciated by Ziva and Tony. Gibbs was too busy concentrating on his next step, which was the point of the exercise. Once he had taken that first step, there was no going back. Tony felt a sense of relief that his boss had achieved his first goal.

Gibbs, on the other hand, was suffering through a great discomfort to achieve his goal. His legs felt like jelly. He wasn't sure how long they would hold out. He was glad that Ziva was there, ready to catch him if he stumbled. His breathing had quickened and he could hear the blood pounding in his ears. It felt like there was a weight pulling his chest towards his abdomen. Only a few more steps to the bathroom, he thought. He allowed himself a brief smile when he realised that he didn't even need to use the bathroom. Then it crossed his mind what he must look like. He was sporting a very unflattering hospital gown, which he realised left nothing to the imagination from behind. At least he had some shorts on, courtesy of his dad's recent visit.

Another shuffled step, then another and he was there. As he held onto the door frame of the bathroom, he smiled. He felt exhausted but he didn't care. He had made it. He looked over at Tony, who was beaming with pride. Then without warning, Tony turned and quickly made a beeline for the door.

"I'll be right back," he said as he disappeared.

"Typical," Ziva muttered, stunned by her colleague's rudeness. "He must have spotted a hot nurse or something," she said to Gibbs as he turned and slowly returned to his bed.

"That's DiNozzo for you," Gibbs commented as he reached out for the edge of his bed.

He leaned back and sat on the edge and Ziva helped him get his legs back onto the bed.

"Thanks," Gibbs said, appreciating her assistance.

"That's what friends are for," she said smiling back at him.

She considerately fixed his pillows and rearranged the sheets over his legs. She could see that those few steps had drained him of energy. He rested his head back against the plumped pillows and waited for his pounding heart to slow. Just then Tony returned. In his hand he had a steaming, aromatic cup of black coffee.

"There you go, Boss. I thought you could do with that," he said, handing Gibbs the cup.

Gibbs inhaled the scent deeply and savoured a large, greedy mouthful. He nodded contently to Tony. There were no words to convey his appreciation.

"I needed that," he said truthfully, looking at his two agents and appreciating their efforts. He knew they were torturing him because they cared for him.

He realised that he could get around and that he could bear the pain. Now he had to concentrate on getting stronger. He knew that there was a greater hurdle ahead that couldn't be avoided. Knowing that somewhere in the future was a battery of tests that would ultimately decide the fate of his career left him uneasy. The fact that he was back on his feet, however briefly, offered no guarantees, but at least it was a start.

TBC

A/N - Again, thanks guys, for all your reviews. Will be winding this story up in the next chapter (hopefully).