Disclaimer: Nothings mine. Sadly.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Real life got in the way once again. I want to thank all of you for your reviews and encouraging words. You don't know how much they mean to me. Coming home after a long hard day at work and just feeling down and then seeing the review alerts in your Inbox and reading such nice words, there's nothing better, other authors will know what I mean.

Thanks also to my beta ktwesterna. All remaining mistakes are my own.

Their Day in Baltimore

Chapter 14

Smell was the first thing that broke through the fog.

Unfortunately, it was a smell that Anthony DiNozzo was all too familiar with and that was too distinct to be confused with anything else. It summoned many bad memories and those were enough to shock him back into full consciousness.

But if he had known what would come next, he might have simply ignored the smell and what it implied. Because with consciousness, came the pain.

Okay, so he couldn't exactly call it pain, although it was close. In reality it was more of a tingling sensation all over his body. His arms, his legs, his torso, gosh, it was crazy but he felt it in his hair too - his whole body was a mass of pins and needles. It prickled and itched and to Tony that was actually worse than real pain. Real pain he could manage but this, this was torture. Especially since he tried and failed to move his arm to scratch a particularly bothersome spot. Tony didn't like feeling so weak that he couldn't move and it was just one more reason to finally open his eyes. Being immovable was bad, but being immovable and blind made him vulnerable and that was even worse.

One heavy eyelid slowly fluttered open, only to snap shut almost immediately. The Italian couldn't suppress the groan that bubbled up and irritated his sore throat even more. The lights in the room he was in were just too bright. They were blinding him and he wanted to curse, but what passed his lips was nothing more than an intelligible whimper. A manly whimper, he told himself, but that didn't make it sound any less pitiful.

Someone else must have thought so too, because suddenly he could hear someone moving around and a soft voice.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry. I can't believe I forgot. The light must be troubling you quite a bit, isn't it. Wait a second, I'll turn it down."

The voice startled Tony badly. He'd been sure that he was alone. Normally he would have been uncomfortable with the unknown presence in the room but something about that voice was familiar. His fuzzy mind couldn't place it yet, but for some reason he felt himself relax rather than tense up.

There were more noises and finally Tony could sense through his closed eyes that the lights had been considerably dimmed.

"There, it should be okay now. Would you try again, son? You have been asleep long enough."

For a split second, Tony thought his father was here. But that couldn't be right, because, although his father sometimes called him son, his voice never held... affection. So, whoever that man was, he wasn't his father but that was okay, since he wouldn't have done anything his father wanted anyway. He usually didn't do what strangers told him either, but he really wanted to know who that person was if nothing else. A niggling feeling in the back of his mind told him that he should already know but he was too tired to remember on his own. So, he did the only thing he could do right now to satisfy his curiosity.

When crusty eyes opened a second time they were accompanied by a sigh of relief rather than a groan of pain. The lights were lowered to a manageable level, just like the mysterious person had promised.

Tony's vision was still a bit blurred but when the room stopped spinning and he could inspect his surroundings he realized that his worst fears had come true.

He hadn't been wrong. He really was in a hospital.

'Well, damn.'

The old panic threatened to overwhelm him but he mercilessly pushed it away before it could swallow him whole. The young man took a few deep breaths and tried to concentrate on everything else but the antiseptic smell or the too clean, yet dirty, white sheets. Closing his eyes would probably make it even worse, so he stared at the ceiling instead.

Tony still hated hospitals with a passion. He couldn't even count the times Mike or one of his other partners had to practically blackmail him into going to the hospital when he was hurt on the job.

After his father had cut all ties with him, Tony had seriously thought that his aversion to hospitals would get better, if not disappear completely. After all it had been mostly Dr. Benson's fake concern and the hypocrisy of it all that had disgusted him. And that wasn't a problem anymore. He hadn't seen Dr. Benson again after that fateful day in the hospital so everything should be fine, right?

One can only imagine his surprise and disappointment when it didn't get better but worse.

The first time he'd set foot into a hospital after his estrangement with his father because of a simple sports injury, he had almost passed out right in the entrance hall. The moment he'd laid eyes on a doctor his legs had started to shake. Sweat had gathered on his forehead and before he'd even registered it he had bolted from the hospital, all the while chanting 'Don't throw up. Don't throw up' in his head. The only good thing about that disaster had been that he'd come alone so there were no immediate witnesses to his almost breakdown. No need to embarrass himself even more than he'd already had.

The next three hours had been spent on a bench in a nearby park with his head nearly between his knees, gulping for breath and wondering what the hell had just happened. It was the first time since leaving his father that Tony had been truly afraid and even today, years later, he was ashamed of the fact that he hadn't found the courage to go back and try again that day.

As a result, his sprained finger had gone untreated and it still hurt a bit when he spent a whole day doing paper work.

His aversion to hospitals was something Tony was deeply embarrassed about, mostly because he had no real explanation for it.

It should have become easier now that he was older. It wasn't like he had to worry about a genuine nurse anymore that wasn't on the payroll of his father. A nurse that discovered his secret and wanted to help. Like his teacher, Mrs. Briggs, had wanted to help. A nurse that would just end up staring at the remains of her life and wonder why she'd thrown it all away for some little brat.

It was different now. There was no need to worry about any of that anymore. Tony could take his shirt off and let them see the scars if he wanted to without fear of consequences. He was an adult now and besides hesitant offers to talk to the hospital psychologist, there was nothing the doctors or nurses could do. No calling the authorities or asking him if his Daddy had done that to him. Now he had the freedom to let everyone see.

But deep down he knew that exact freedomwas the real problem.

Every time he had to undress to let them tend a gunshot wound or some other type of injury, the doctors would see the scarring crossing his back and would regard him with a look that hurt worse than the injury itself. A look full of pity and compassion, a look that said 'Look at that poor guy. Probably damaged for the rest of his life'.

Tony couldn't bear those looks. They made him self-conscious, they made him feel weak and he hated being weak. More often than not he found himself wondering what they were thinking when they saw the scars. Whether they wondered what he'd done to deserve something like that, what a huge failure he had to be to deserve such severe punishment. Those thoughts left him ashamed and miserable and sometimes he felt worse when he left the hospital than he'd felt when he went in.

Part of him knew of course that he'd done nothing to deserve the faint lines that adorned his lower back and that he was still heavily influenced by the subtle brainwashing he'd endured under his father. But another part couldn't help but remember DiNozzo Sr. words. Words that had been hissed and sometimes screamed into his ears after each and every beating.

'You've brought this on yourself.'

But whether there was a valid reason for his hospital phobia or not, Tony had learned to deal with it. He would still break into cold sweat whenever anyone even mentioned the word hospital, but he masked it with annoyance and sarcasm. And when he was in hospital he joked with the doctors and flirted with the nurses. He tried to convince himself that he had lots of fun because he knew once he convinced himself, he'd effectively convince everyone else too.

In many cases a simple 'I'm fine' had been enough to get overprotective partners or annoying paramedics off his case, but then there were times when he didn't get a say in the matter. When he was bleeding to death for example or when he was unconscious because a nutcase had drugged him to the eyeballs with an unknown substance.

Which brought him back to his current dilemma.

From the corner of his eye he could see a figure moving back to the chair next to his bed. After taking another deep breath to calm his erratic heart, he turned his head to finally get a look at his visitor.

Tony wasn't nearly as surprised as he should have been to see Dr. Donald Mallard with a book in his lap and a glass of water in his hand gazing down at him with worried eyes. A sudden sense of déjà vu hit him at the sight and a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Dr. 'alla'd." he croaked and the old ME immediately went into motion, leaning over him with a glass of water with a straw in his hands.

"Shush Anthony. Drink something before you attempt to talk. Slowly." He placed the straw against his lips and Tony took small sips, since he had no desire to throw up right now. He knew the routine from previous visits to the hospital and took it slowly before signaling that he had enough. The old man set the glass on the table to his right and straightened the blanket – which made Tony feel uncomfortable, but in a good way – before he leaned back into his chair.

"Thanks." Tony mumbled and the doctor gave him a bright smile.

"No problem my dear boy. And it's Ducky."

Tony nodded numbly. The silence that settled between them was nowhere near uncomfortable but even so Tony couldn't help but letting his eyes travel through the room and fidget in his bed. The need to get up and leave was eating at him and the silence only made it worse. He needed some kind of distraction. Fast.

"So what happened?" he asked. "I mean I know what happened, I was there obviously, but after that, I mean. Did Leo talk? He said something about colors or some other crap but I was a little drugged so I didn't pay too much attention, you know? And where is Agent Gibbs? Is he interrogating him? Woah, I hope he doesn't kill the man, although I guess he would deserve it, but it would be bad for Gibbs career and well-"

He trailed off and winced when he realized that he was babbling. Geez, he always babbled when he was nervous. Time to calm down Tony, he encouraged himself.

Ducky stared at him with a raised eyebrow, clearly amused by the young man's antics.

"Is there a question that needs to be answered first? I'm afraid I lost track through half way through."

Tony gave a rueful smile and asked the question that had plagued him the most since waking up and finding Ducky in his room.

"Where is Gibbs?"

"Ah, Jethro is still at the PD with Detective Boston."

"Mike?" Tony asked. He was just now realizing that he should have asked about the whereabouts of his own partner before asking about Gibbs. Man, what was wrong with him?

Ducky nodded. "Yes, he was here until two hours ago but Jethro called and asked him to relieve him at the station. He was very adamant about coming here and speaking to you as soon as you woke up."

"Who, Mike?"

"No. Jethro."

Tony frowned. Why would Gibbs want to talk to him? Well, someone obviously needed to process his statement but Mike could have done that just as well - maybe even better, since he had been already here.

But maybe it wasn't about the statement. He could still remember how livid Gibbs had been in that back alley. The man probably wanted to ream him out for his stupid stunt, nothing more. Tony wouldn't be surprised if the Agent had actually gone to his superior and filed a complaint against him for endangering the case.

"Wouldn't be the first time." Tony muttered sullenly.

Ducky looked up from his book with an intrigued expression on his face. "What wouldn't be the first time?"

Tony didn't feel like explaining himself to the doctor so he made something up. "I just mean that this feels pretty familiar don't you think. Me lying in the hospital, waiting for Gibbs to chew me out..."

A lopsided grin greeted him. "That is quite true, isn't it?"

Ducky's smile was infectious and Tony's mood brightened a little bit. Even if Gibbs had filed a complaint, it wouldn't matter anymore. He'd already decided that it was time to move on. He'd heard Chicago was pretty exciting.

The young Italian attempted to sit up but even before Ducky could admonish him, he fell back against his pillow. He was annoyed with his sluggish movements and for the first time he registered the bandage on his hand. He remembered the shard he'd used to stay awake and when he moved his fingers he could feel the stitches pull against his skin.

Ducky noticed his gaze and crossed him arms. "That was by the way a pretty daring thing to do, Anthony. You could have caught God knows what diseases."

Tony looked up, worried despite himself. "But I didn't, right?"

"Apparently not but as soon as the drug is out of your system you'll have to take antibiotics for at least a few weeks to prevent an infection."

Tony wiggled his fingers a bit more before he got bored with that and lowered the hand to his chest. "What did that creep give me anyway? Do I have to expect any side effects?"

The old doctor patted his knee in a comforting manner. "He used gamma hydroxybutyrate." At Tony's blank look he added. "You may know it under the name GHB. It is fairly dangerous if the dose is too high but you had luck. Now that you're awake you may have to deal with nausea and vertigo but that will be gone by tomorrow, I believe."

"Yay." Tony deadpanned. He hadn't experienced nausea yet, but now he had something to look forward to. 'Just great.'

"We were pretty worried though." Ducky continued as if he hadn't heard Tony. "You were asleep longer than the doctors thought you would be."

"We?"

The ME looked at him oddly. "Yes, we. Detective Boston, Jethro and me."

Gibbs? Gibbs had been worried about him? Why would he be? Tony had seriously thought that the man didn't even like him. But maybe it just wouldn't look good when someone he was working with on a case died. Had to mess with his reputation. Yeah, that had to be it.

Tony stared at the blanket that covered him so he didn't see Ducky's face. But Ducky saw his, and he had to have seen something there that worried him.

The man left his seat and rested his hand lightly on Tony's head until the young man looked up with big eyes. Ducky was once again amazed how young the boy looked and he grew even more determined to help him. He'd always had a soft spot for children, much like Gibbs.

"You know, you can speak to Gibbs about anything. If there is something you want to tell him, please do. Jethro will help you."

Tony stared into space and didn't hear Ducky telling him that he was getting him a snack and leaving the room.

All he heard was that one sentence running through his head.

'Jethro will help you.'

Tony had heard that sentence before. But back then, he hadn't truly believed it or at least hadn't been able to trust himself and that man enough to risk believing it.

Could he do it now? Would he want to? And was Gibbs even still offering?

Tony closed his eyes and draped an arm over his eyes. Whether it was to keep everything in or everything out, he didn't know. He just knew that the darkness and the weight on his suspicious moist eyes were soothing.

After a long moment his choked laughter filled the room.

"Damn, this is one hell of a déjà vu."

TBC

A/N: In TDBTD Ducky's and Tony's talk also took place in chapter 14. This is intended (hence all the talking about déjà vu), I'm not running out of ideas or anything, just so you know.

I intended to put Tony's and Gibbs talk into this chapter too but it would have been too much. I'm not trying to drag this thing out, I had actually hoped to wrap it all up in this chapter and then maybe one more. Now it looks like there will be at least two more chapters, maybe even three if something unexpected comes up.

Next time, Tony and Gibbs talk, for sure. Next chappy is almost done.