Part 28

Okay, here's the last post to hold you over until I get back from the beach. A little warning, lots of heavy angst on Tony's part including suicidal thoughts; I hope that his inner turmoil seems real and that you as the reader can feel his frustration. I don't have time to send out replies to those who reviewed the last chapter of From the Ashes, but I will do it when I get back! Again, thank you all so much for everything. I'm honored to have such wonderful and loyal readers!

The sound of his phone ringing awoke Gibbs from his semi peaceful slumber. Although he had managed to fall asleep, he couldn't completely vanquish the dreams that had been haunting him since that fateful day; he was beginning to wonder if there would ever come a day that when he closed his eyes, he didn't see Tony being felled by his bullets. Shaking off the remnants of his nightmare, he groped for the phone that was lying on the coffee table; before he had fallen asleep, he had made sure that the phone was within his reach just in case the rehab center called.

"Gibbs," he finally answered, rubbing his eyes as they slowly adjusted to the early morning sunlight drifting through his window.

"Agent Gibbs; this is Dr. Williams. We need to talk."

The team leader sat up on the couch; the no nonsense tone of the psychiatrist was not the voice that he expected to hear first thing in the morning. Their last conversation had not gone well and he certainly wasn't in the mood for round two. "What can I do for you, Dr. Williams?" he sighed.

"I want to talk to you about Agent DiNozzo," the psychiatrist began. "He's had a rather difficult morning and is facing some even harder obstacles today; I think he could use a friendly face or two. I also think we need to make sure that we're on the same page regarding Tony's treatment; I have some ideas that will help make his adjustment to his time at the center as well as his new life easier and I would like your input."

"You want my input?"

He could almost hear her bristle at his biting comment. Dr. Williams was the type of woman who was liked to be in control and Gibbs could only imagine that in dealing with DiNozzo, she had quickly recognized the fact that in a battle of wills, she was sure to lose. He had tried to tell her how to deal with Tony but she had refused to listen; why was she suddenly ready to do so now?

"Yes, Agent Gibbs," she coolly stated. "You obviously know Agent DiNozzo very well and I need that insight in order to help him. I know that you and he share a similar opinion of psychiatrists, but I'm not the enemy."

"You haven't convinced me of that yet." Gibbs glanced at his watch and mentally calculated how long it would take him to get ready and get back to the rehabilitation hospital. "I'll be there in thirty minutes," he vowed. "If you want a piece of advice, I'd hold off on that evaluation."

"I'll put it on hold until we have the chance to talk."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Claire replied. "I'll see you when you get here."

"I want to stop and see Tony first."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea; he needs some time to cool off," the doctor suggested.

"I'm going to see Tony," he forcibly repeated. "Like you said, he probably could do with seeing a friendly face."

"And you think yours is the face he needs or wants to see? Truthfully, yours isn't the face I had in mind."

"I'd say he'd want to see mine more than he does yours," Gibbs shot back. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

He hung up his phone and pushed himself up off the couch and headed towards his bathroom. Within ten minutes, he had showered and dressed and was on his way out the door; his concern for Tony was utmost on his mind as he replayed Dr. Williams' words in his mind.

Gibbs knew DiNozzo as well as he knew himself and he knew without a doubt that Tony had finally reached his breaking point; the team leader had seen it coming and although he had wanted to stay by Tony's side, he had respected his agent's wishes to leave because he knew better than anyone that some things should remain private. DiNozzo had never been open with his true emotions and Gibbs never called him on it; he and Tony were more alike in that aspect than either of them cared to admit.

Perhaps that was why he understood DiNozzo; when he looked at Tony, it was as if he were looking at a mirror image of himself at that age. Ducky had often pointed out how much he and Tony were alike and Gibbs had usually brushed the compliment aside, never truly taking the ME's observation at face value. Now he realized that Tony followed his example in a lot of things including how he buried his feelings of sadness and frustration until they became manifested in anger.

Perhaps it was time to convince Tony that expressing his emotions wasn't a crime, especially considering the circumstances. Of course, he was going to have convince himself of that first.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony had just finished being bathed and although he felt a little more refreshed, the humiliation of the act had cut him to the core. It was yet another task that he could add to this list of things he had always taken forgranted; going to the bathroom, taking a shower, getting dressed, having sex, the list continued to grow. He had been reassured that he would be able to do most of these things once again but it would take time.

Time. That was the one thing that he did seem to have, especially now that he was bedridden for another few days. The only movement allowed was at meal time and under the strict supervision of his physical therapist that was scheduled to come start working on strengthening his wounded shoulder which thanks to his earlier fit of rage, was no longer bound to his body.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he was disheartened to learn that only five minutes had passed since Gretchen and the aides had left; if his life was going to be filled with watching time crawl by, he didn't want to live. He especially didn't want to live if he was going to lose the use of his arms, which was a distinct possibility depending on whether or not the fragments in his back stabilized. Maybe he should just go ahead and end it now; maybe it was selfish, but he couldn't find it within him to care.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Figuring it was Dr. Williams, he didn't answer; she was probably outside his door reading his mind while he considered ending his life. She was probably already prepared to admit him to the psych unit; maybe that was where he belonged. The door opened and he heard the familiar sound of Ziva's voice drift into the room. He hadn't seen her since before the shooting and while he had been told that she and McGee had stopped by while he was unconscious in the hospital, there had been no other visits from Ziva. Tony hadn't inquired as to her whereabouts because he wasn't sure he could handle facing her knowing that she would look at him different because of his disability.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Sure," he tiredly replied.

"If this is a bad time, I can come back later," Ziva insisted. "The nurse said that you've had a rough night and…"

"You can come in, Ziva."

Tony's eyes followed her graceful movements as she made her way to his bedside. It was obvious that this was the last place that she wanted to be; if she was here out of some sense of guilt or obligation, he would rather her turn around and walk out the door.

"You look a lot better than the last time I saw you," Ziva stated. "How are you feeling?"

He wanted to blurt out that he wasn't feeling anything but at the moment that would be a lie. Tony could feel the daggers being driven into his back, but had refused to ask for anything to alleviate his pain; he needed his mind clear, not to mention the fact that he needed the constant agony to keep his anger focused.

Biting back a sharp retort, he forced a smile upon his lips. "I'm fine."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

"So, um..."

"Is it that hard to talk to me?" Tony wanted to know, his tone quiet and bitter. He had never seen Ziva at such a loss for words.

Ziva took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I guess I do not know what to say; it is difficult seeing you like this," she admitted. "You seem…defeated."

"Defeated? I guess that's as good a word as any."

"But you don't have to be," Ziva insisted. "You can rise above this; you can get better. So you have to learn to do things a little differently; it is not the end of the planet."

"World," he automatically corrected. "It's not the end of the world."

"Same difference. What I mean is that you can live a normal life in a wheelchair; you can still work for NCIS and…"

"Did McGee send you?" Tony challenged, knowing that there had to be a reason for her to say that he could work for NCIS but not Gibbs.

"No, he did not send me. I've been so busy that I did not get to see you before you left the hospital, so I made time this morning and stopped by on my way to work."

"So glad you could fit me into your schedule."

"Tony, it's not like that," she attempted to reason.

"Then what's it like, Ziva? I've seen everyone else at least once," he pointed out. "Everyone else has made time, including McGee who only came to inform me that he was going to be Gibbs' new senior field agent."

There was no mistaking the guilt and the exasperation that danced upon Ziva's perfect features as she defended McGee. "Director Shepard offered him the promotion! What was he supposed to do? Turn it down?"

Tony laughed as he pulled his hand out of her grasp. "So you are here for McGee," he deduced.

"No, I'm not! I'm here to see you but at the moment, I do not know why I even bothered. All you are doing is lying here and feeling sorry for yourself; that is not the Tony DiNozzo I know!"

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you thought!"

"Perhaps you're right," Ziva conceded.

He gasped in pain, his fist entwining itself in his sheet as he fought against the waves of torment that was assaulting him. Tony could hear Ziva calling his name but it was only when she started to summon the nurse that he grabbed her by the arm and refused to let her go. "No," he whispered. "It'll pass."

"Tony, you are in pain. Let me get you some help."

"No! Just give…me a minute," Tony pleaded.

He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. After repeating that motion several times, the pain began to subside; a small sense of accomplishment coursed through him as he briefly considered that he had managed to ride out the pain that was becoming his constant companion. "I'm all right," he finally assured her.

"Tony, I did not mean to upset you," Ziva apologized.

"Not your fault; I'm a little on edge."

"Why don't you let the nurse give you something?"

"I have to have a clear head; my psych eval is today."

"Tony, I…"

"I'm kind of tired, Ziva. I'd like to rest." Tony wasn't lying but he wasn't being completely honest either. He was tired but he also wanted to give Ziva an excuse to leave; if seeing him was such a burden to her, then he could alleviate that weight of guilt that she carried.

"Very well," she relented. "But I will be back to see you and not because I have to; I will be back because I want to."

"I'm not going anywhere."

As Ziva turned to leave, he called out to her. "Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"Tell McGee to take Shepard up on the promotion; he deserves it."

"Tony, McGee would never do anything to intentionally hurt you," she reminded him.

"I know; just tell him to take it. Gibbs is going to need someone to watch his back because I won't be there to do it."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean, DiNozzo?"

Tony visibly flinched when Gibbs entered the room; the team leader had evidently heard the last of their conversation and wasn't pleased with what he had to say. DiNozzo silently dismissed Ziva with a curt nod so that she wouldn't have to witness what had the potential to become a heated exchange. Tony laid his head back on his pillow; Gibbs could argue all he wanted to but he was tired of fighting. He was tired of everything and that included living.

"I asked you a question, Tony," Gibbs growled. "We've been over this before; you're my senior field agent and as far as I'm concerned you still have a job."

"I'm not coming back," Tony muttered. "McGee can have it."

"You're giving up? I thought DiNozzo's didn't give up."

"I guess this DiNozzo does. All I hear is false platitudes about everything getting better and so far, it hasn't. I'm tired of hearing people tell me that I have to be patient and give myself time to adjust; I don't want to adjust! I want my life back the way it was and if I can't have that, then screw it!"

"Tony, you're pissed off and you have every right to be but that's no reason for you to simply give up. You're going to get better," Gibbs vowed. "You're experiencing a minor setback right now and…"

"A minor setback? I don't call facing surgery or quadriplegia a minor setback. I can't handle this Gibbs; I can't do it."

"You don't have to handle it alone."

Tony defiantly shook his head. "You have a life Gibbs and it's not being stuck here with me day in and day out."

"It's my choice."

"Well, it's a bad one."

Tony despised himself for the way he was treating Gibbs; if the man would leave him alone, life would be so much easier for the both of them. The one thing that had always motivated him was the fear of disappointing the Marine and the past few weeks had been nothing but disappointment after disappointment.

He pressed his palms against his eyes, forbidding the tears of anger and frustration to come. Despite what everyone was telling him, there was no silver lining in the cloud and things were not going to look any better tomorrow. Tony wanted a means of escape and he knew that he only had one option.

"I'll be back in a minute, Tony. We're not done with this," Gibbs warned.

Choosing not to acknowledge his mentor, Tony waited until he was sure Gibbs was gone before looking around the room. "There's got to be something I can use," he mumbled to himself. It only took a few seconds for him to ascertain that there was nothing useful in the room; he would have to come up with another plan.

He reached up and gave himself a head slap worthy of the one Gibbs usually bestowed upon him. What was he thinking? "What is wrong with me? I'm lying here trying to figure out how to kill myself. Stupid, DiNozzo; real stupid. That psych ward is looking more inviting all the time."

Before he could further contemplate his situation, another sharp pain coursed through him, setting his nerves on fire. Something was definitely wrong; tears began streaming down his face as he blindly searched for the call button. That was when he discovered that he could barely force his arms to move; the words of Dr. Gibson started echoing in his mind as he realized what was happening. The agony was now unbearable, his ability to cry out for help almost nonexistent.

He had never been so happy to see Gibbs as he was when the older man came running in his room. Tony was grateful that despite his efforts at severing the bond between them, it was still intact and Gibbs had immediately known that he was in trouble.

Tony basked in Gibbs' physical presence as the team leader grabbed his shoulders and called out to him, forcing him to focus on his voice. "Tony, it's all right; I've got you! What's wrong?"

"My back…hurts…like…a…son of a…bitch! My arms, Gibbs…I can't move 'em! I can't…"

"Everything's going to be all right, DiNozzo," Gibbs tried to assure him. "Are you listening to me?"

"Just…let me go…if…don't…have…arms. Won't…live…like that."

Tony saw Gibbs call for the nurse and within a few seconds, once again, his room was flooded with medical personnel. The last thing he heard was the voice of Dr. Gibson ordering a sedative and something for pain. He was also sure that he heard the doctor telling Gibbs that surgery was going to be his only option, but as the drugs took effect, the voices in the room became muddled leaving him to question if that was what Gibson had even said. The physician was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't force himself to focus; all he wanted was to be put out of his misery and at the moment, he decided that he would welcome death.