Rule 44: never strike a federal officer. Looked this up after last night's ep :). Number 51? I'm guessing will be made via the next ep. So sad this is the finale. It means much missing of my favorite show. And since Lost will be over, and House had its finale, what am I gonna do! Oh I know! Write :)
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Two days passed before Tony was cleared to leave the hospital under Gibbs' care. Tony was ecstatic as he entered the passenger seat of Gibbs' car. But by the time he'd made it from the car to Gibbs' front door, he felt overwhelmingly exhausted.
"Think I'm gonna take a breather on the couch for a minute, Boss," he said as he stumbled into the living room. Gibbs closed the door and observed Tony's uncomfortable form sinking onto the couch with a huff.
"I had Ziva pick up some stuff from your place," Gibbs told him. "I put it in the downstairs guestroom. Figured you shouldn't be usin' the stairs much till you're healed up." Tony simply nodded in acknowledgment. Gibbs sat in the chair across from the couch. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"Ducky's pickin' up your prescriptions. He'll be by soon."
"They gave me some pain killers before we left. I'm okay, really, Boss. Just tired."
Gibbs nodded in understanding. "You hungry? I've got a couple steaks thawed."
Tony grinned, "You thawed me a steak? That was...really nice of you. Maybe I shouldn't let you know about how the doc said to slowly work my way up to solid foods..."
"I'll cut it up real small," he smirked as he stood to go to the kitchen.
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Tony had fallen asleep before the steaks were even done; curled up on the couch. When Gibbs noticed it, he smirked and carried the agent's plate to the refrigerator. He heard Ducky come in just moments later, entering the kitchen quietly as he passed the sleeping agent.
"Good evening, Jethro," he greeted as he set a bag down on the counter. "How long has he been asleep?"
"Not more than ten minutes," he replied. "He was pretty exhausted when we got here. That normal?" he narrowed his eyes in preparation for the answer.
"Well, yes. The pain killers are probably assisting with the drowsiness. But in reality, though the Dengue Fever has run its course, the fatigue will remain until he can fully recover. It's very much like influenza, in a way. Only quite a bit worse. And the fact that he'd lost so much blood from his wound, his body has gone through a lot. It will take some time to get back to his usual self."
"What's in the bag?" Gibbs asked as he approached the table, eying it with curiosity.
Ducky smirked a little, "I suspected you might need some groceries," he began to unpack the contents. "Soups, fruits and vegetables, for the most part. These would be ideal for Anthony over the next week. Here are his meds as well," he handed him a small white bag. "As needed for pain. There's also some anti-nausea pills in here, as well. He may need them."
"Sports drinks?" he inquired as Ducky pulled out several bottles of blue liquid.
"He needs the electrolytes. Were you going to give him steak, Jethro?" he asked as he eyed the plate in the fridge next to where he'd planned to put the drinks.
Gibbs cocked his head and smirked, guiltily, "He wanted it, Duck."
"Well...I suppose if he took the time to chew properly, it might be okay. But I couldn't promise there wouldn't be digestive complications, if you catch what I'm telling you." He closed the fridge after placing the items that needed to go in. "Abigail expressed the desire to come by and check in on the two of you."
"She still at the building?"
"Yes. Ziva and Timothy were there with her, working on that case. I only left to beat traffic and get the prescriptions before the pharmacy closed for the evening. Though, I am finished with the autopsy, and Mr. Palmer stayed to clean up."
"I told Ziva and McGee to go home," he said with narrowed eyes.
"Yes," Ducky smirked, "But are you surprised they didn't follow that order?"
Gibbs cocked his head again, "Got a point, I guess."
"They've been working hard to make up for Tony's absence. They really do miss him being around; even the childish antics," he winked.
"He'll be back sooner than they think. Then they'll wonder why they missed the antics at all," he grinned and peeked over at Tony, still asleep.
"I spoke with the director before heading out," he told him, and Gibbs gave him a questioning look. "Well, I met him in the elevator on the way down to the garage. He asked about Tony, and wanted me to let him know that he has plenty of medical leave time."
Gibbs nodded and turned to pour himself coffee. Ducky resumed putting away the groceries during the span of silence. He appraised his friend, noticing he seemed a bit exhausted as he sat down at the table with his steaming mug. But he didn't drink from it; he seemed a bit preoccupied.
"You haven't been sleeping much lately," it was more of a statement than a question. Gibbs shrugged. "Perhaps you should take advantage of the time and take a nap? I can stay and keep an eye on Anthony while you do."
Gibbs considered protesting the suggestion, but the thought seemed pretty desirable. He looked down at his untouched coffee, then up at Ducky, "You want this?"
The doctor chuckled, "I'll be sure it doesn't go to waste. Go on," he told him, and was pleased when he stood and headed for the stairs.
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When Gibbs awoke, he realized it was dark out. Slept too long, he thought as he pulled himself out of bed. He headed immediately downstairs to relieve Ducky, but upon reaching the living room, he realized Abby, Ziva and Tim were there, talking to Tony who was sitting up on the couch, awake.
"Where's Ducky?" Gibbs asked.
"We told him to go home and get some sleep, Gibbs," Abby told him. Gibbs eyes the near-empty bottle of sports drink on the coffee table in front of Tony.
"How long have you been up?" he asked his senior agent.
"Just a little longer than you, Boss," he told him; discomfort evident in his voice.
"Feelin' okay?"
"He says he feels as though he has been hit by a truck," Ziva explained.
"Ducky gave him some pain killers before he left," McGee told him.
"They're starting to kick in," Tony added, "Just not takin' this achy feeling away."
"You eat anything?" Gibbs inquired.
"Had some soup earlier," he replied. "And I'm desperately tryin' to keep it down..."
"I just gave him one of the nausea pills," Tim told him.
"It's my fault, Gibbs," Abby said with an apologetic look on her face. "I brought him a 'welcome home' cupcake, and he almost turned green when he smelled it. I put it in the fridge..."
"It's okay, Abs," Tony said. "Once my stomach decides to stop doing cartwheels, I'm sure I'll want it. Just keep McCupcakethief away from the fridge."
"Hey," McGee defended, "I only ate Abby's cupcake to save her from herself..."
"He bought me another one," Abby told him. "But I'm sure the one Ziva gave me was much yummier." She glanced down at her watch, "Ohmygosh...I've gotta go!" she stood. "I'm meeting some friends tonight at this club...there's a band playing there tonight that's supposed to be really awesome."
"Don't stay out too late," Gibbs said, kissing her cheek as she stopped next to him. "Gotta work in the morning."
"When have I ever let my partying affect my work, Gibbs?" she smirked with narrowed eyes before saying her goodbyes and heading out.
"So," Tony sighed, "Have any interesting cases you're workin' on?"
"An apparent suicide of a Navy Petty Officer," Tim replied. "She jumped from a third story balcony. No apparent witnesses. No signs of struggle."
"Abby tested her blood for drug use and found nothing," Ziva added. "But, Gibbs..." she glanced at him before continuing, "Has a gut feeling."
"Don't think it's a suicide," Gibbs elaborated.
"You got the case file?" Tony asked.
Tim furrowed his brow. "In my car. Why?"
"Because I've got nothing better to do, Probie. Humor me?" McGee shrugged after glancing at Gibbs, who didn't show any signs of protest, and went to get the file.
Gibbs headed into the kitchen to fetch a cup of coffee. "Need anything while I'm in here?" he called.
"I'm good, Boss," Tony replied. When he returned to the living room, Tim and Ziva were sitting on either side of Tony on the couch, explaining what they'd found, and Tony was examining a picture of the dead girl. Gibbs took a seat in one of the chairs across from the couch and set his coffee down on the table. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, he watched Tony's face as he examined the photo.
"See something we didn't?" Gibbs asked.
Tony's eyes flickered up to meet his for a moment, before looking down at the photo again. "Did you talk to her boyfriend?" he asked.
Tim furrowed his brow, "Uh...we weren't really sure she had a boyfriend, Tony."
"Well, clearly she did. Look at the sweatshirt she's wearing," he pointed. "See how the sleeves are folded up? It's too big for her. And it's a college sweatshirt, and she's not going to school, according to her file."
"It could belong to a friend," Ziva said.
"Maybe," Tony replied. "But I've got a gut feeling it belongs to someone who's more than a friend, Zee-vah. And that person might know something more about what happened."
"Well, no one we've talked to seems to know about the guy, if that's the case," Tim said. "How are we even gonna begin to search?"
"Shirt says GWU," Tony pointed out.
"We'll head out there in the morning," Gibbs chimed in. "Show her picture around and see if anyone recognizes her and who she'd been with."
"Wait a minute..." Tony said as he looked at the toxicology report. "How did she get into the Navy with Parkinson's?"
"She had Parkinson's?" Ziva asked as she looked at the report.
"It says there was a drug called levodopa in her system. That's a Parkinson's medication," Tony said and looked up from the file. They were all looking at him with question as to how he knew that. "I...had a girlfriend once, that had it... Nosed through her medicine cabinet one night in search of tylenol."
"She would've been discharged," Gibbs said, "Soon as she started the meds."
"Maybe she was hiding it?" McGee suggested.
Tony looked at the photo again, noticing the mascara-run streaks on her face from tears. "Or maybe she didn't know what she was taking..."
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"Tony's a genius, Gibbs!" Abby said, excitedly as she pranced around the lab.
"I'll have to concur," Ducky said to Gibbs as he and McGee stood expectantly for explanation. "Petty Officer Allison did not have Parkinson's disease, after all."
"Which means someone was poisoning her," Abby said. "There's enough in her system to assume she'd been taking it for probably at least a few days."
"How does that help explain what happened?" Gibbs inquired.
"Well, taking levodopa without having the disease, can cause psychosis, among many other things..." Ducky explained.
"And if someone was giving it to her, chances are that they were trying to get her thrown out of the Navy," Abby suggested.
"I'll go figure out who she had contact with in the Navy; who she might've bunked with or gone through training with," McGee said before exiting.
Gibbs pulled out his cell and dialed Ziva's number. When she answered, he directed her, "Call GWU and have them give you a list of known students being treated for Parkinson's. Then find out if she'd ever been involved with any of them. If we find any leads, we'll go out there."
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Ducky's cell phone rang in his coat pocket which was hanging on the coat rack in the morgue. He stood from his desk, where he'd been going over the case report after speaking with Gibbs in Abby's lab, and retrieved it. Surprised to see Tony's name on the caller I.D, he answered immediately, "Is everything alright, Anthony?" he asked.
"Yeah, Ducky...sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if it's okay that I take another pain killer now?"
"When was the last time you took one?"
"Uh...Gibbs gave me one before leaving for work this morning."
"That was just a couple of hours ago. Are you still in pain?"
"It didn't really help, honestly," his discomfort was heard clearly through the phone.
"Well, I suppose you can take one more for now. But I'm going to come by and make sure you're alright."
"You don't have to do that, Duck. I'll be okay..."
"Quite possibly," Ducky replied, "However, I'd feel more comfortable if I were able to confirm that, myself. I'll be by soon."
"Hey, Ducky?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell Gibbs... I don't want him to feel like I need a sitter or anything."
"I'll hold off," he smirked, "He's out with Ziva checking some loose ends on the Allison case anyway."
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Gibbs knocked on the dorm-room door for the second time, before a scrawny looking college student opened the door. "NCIS," Gibbs said as he held up his badge. "We're here to talk to Fred Hearst."
"Fred's not here," the young man answered. "He's at a doctor's appointment. What does NCIS want with him?"
"We're investigating a possible murder," he told him. "Mind if we come in and take a look around?"
"Uh..." the kid turned his head to look into the room, then looked back at him. "It's kind of a mess in here right now..."
"We're not health inspectors," Gibbs smirked.
"What is your name?" Ziva asked him with a kind look on her face.
The kid blushed when he saw her, "Jack," he replied.
"Jack," she smiled, "We just want to take a look. You would not mind, would you?"
"Uh...no...sure, come on in," he opened the door and stood out of their way as they entered. "So you're investigating a murder, eh? Why do you wanna talk to Fred?"
"Because he may know the victim," Gibbs replied as he looked around the room.
"Are you good friends with Fred?" Ziva asked, giving her full attention to the young man.
"We've been friends since the third grade," he grinned. "He's a pretty good guy. We both planned on ending up in the same college and rooming together. His brother almost messed that up for us, though."
"Why is that?" she asked.
"His brother joined the Navy right out of high school," he replied. "Tried to convince both of us to join, too. But...well, I'm not cut out for that kinda stuff," he shied.
"Maybe since you are good friends with Fred, you might also know the victim," Ziva said. "Her name is Carrie Allison."
His eyes lit up, "Carrie's dead?" he seemed devastated.
"You knew her?"
"Uh...yeah. She was Eric's girlfriend in high school. She was in Fred and I's class. Once she graduated, she joined the Navy so she could go be with him... I...I can't believe she's dead... W- what happened to her? Who did this?"
"Fred has Parkinson's disease, as you must know," Ziva said and he nodded.
"Yeah, him and his brother both have it. Their mom had it, too. She died late last year..."
"Eric has Parkinson's?" Ziva asked.
"Yeah..."
"And he has not been discharged from the Navy?"
"He uh... he didn't tell them. He gets all his medication through Fred. Oh man...I'm not getting them in trouble, am I? Shit... please don't tell them I told you!"
Gibbs reentered the room upon hearing the conversation, "How, exactly, does Fred get away with getting enough of the medication to support them both?" he asked.
"I'm not really sure," he replied.
"When he gets back, you tell him to call us," Gibbs handed him a card.
"Thank you for your help, Jack," Ziva gave him a small smile.
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Ducky entered Gibbs' house less than twenty minutes after he ended the call with Tony. Upon shutting the door and hanging his coat, he ventured into the house. Not seeing him on the couch, he checked the guest room, but he wasn't there either. "Tony?" he called out.
"In here," he heard come from the kitchen, and made his way there. Once he entered the kitchen, he saw Tony sitting on the floor up against the cabinets.
"My word, what happened?" he asked as he made his way to him.
"Got in here to take the pain killer, and decided there was no way I was gonna make it back by myself, till it kicks in," he explained.
"Well then, let me help you-"
"No!" he held up a hand. "No, Duck...just lemme sit here."
Ducky pulled a chair closer toward him and sat. "Is it your stomach?" he asked.
Tony nodded behind closed eyes, "Feels like constant cramping. If I move, it gets even worse... Sorry to make you come all the way out here..."
"Nonsense. I'm the least needed at work at the moment. For the time being, anyway." He studied the agent as he laid his head back on the cabinet.
"Why am I so damned exhausted all the time?" he sighed. "I mean...I know why, but...when is it gonna stop?"
"Once you've had time to heal, we can worry about your fatigue in a different light," he told him, reassuringly. "You simply need to rebuild your strength. But you can't do that while you're recovering from such a serious injury. You need the rest to let yourself heal."
"Yeah well I'll rest when I'm not forcibly awake from the pain," he said as he began to get drowsy.
"I'll see if they can't call you in something different to try, since this doesn't seem to be doing a very good job."
"'kay," he replied simply.
"Do you feel like you can be helped to bed now?"
"I think so," he replied, cracking his eyes open to look at him. "My head hurts."
"You're probably hungry," he commented. "Let me help you to bed, and I'll fix you some toast and tea."
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"Carrie's really dead?" Fred Hearst asked from his seat in interrogation. "I don't understand...who'd want to hurt her?"
"There were no signs of struggle," Gibbs told him. "Looks like she killed herself."
"Suicide?" his eyes welled with tears. "But she was happy. She was just hanging with us last week...having lunch with me and Jack. She told us Eric proposed to her. She...oh god....does Eric know what happened?"
"No one's informed him, yet, that we know of. You're sure they weren't having any problems?"
"I don't think so. She was home on leave since last week. Eric was supposed to come home next week and they were gonna fly out to Vegas and get hitched..."
"Eric's still deployed. Has been for over four months now, right?" he confirmed.
"Yeah."
"Our medical examiner found Levodopa in her blood."
"What? That...that's not possible. She doesn't have Parkinson's..."
"Yeah, we know that. We also know you've been getting levodopa for your brother, as well. But not from your doctor."
Hearst seemed a bit nervous now, "Yeah...we order it online. It's legal, but we had to do it in a way that they couldn't find out it was for him."
"Who's we?" he asked.
"Jack...orders it for me. I pay him and he ships it to Eric for me. Eric's gonna be discharged, isn't he..."
"I'm more interested in who was poisoning Petty Officer Allison," he said in a louder voice. "Were you jealous of your brother? Did you love Carrie?"
"No! What? Of course I loved her...she's like a sister to me. I would never do anything to hurt her!"
"You sayin' she was takin' those drugs by choice?"
"No...she knows what it could do to her. She took one a year ago, and it made her act all crazy. She and Eric were out at a club with Jack that night. Jack told me they almost split up because of the way she was acting... But Jack never told Eric what made her act that w-" his focus wavered a bit; darting in the air between them.
"What?" Gibbs asked through narrowed eyes.
"Jack...really liked Carrie," he told him. "He used to be a pretty husky guy. He lost a lot of weight recently, hoping when Carrie came home on leave, that she'd notice. He got pretty drunk after she told us her and Eric were engaged..."
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tbc...