Gibbs insisted that Tony stay, at his house, until he was a little better.
Whenever that was.
The first week was more of a nightmare than a relief.
Gibbs had taken Tony to and from the sessions, since he still had some time off. But other arrangements would be needed once he went back to work. He didn't feel that the younger man could drive safely to the appointments. The therapy would at times, worsen Tony's symptoms, instead of lessen them.
Cranston asked Gibbs to wait outside, and not be in the room during the emotionally and mentally draining hours of work Tony needed to do.
He tried to run errands, or go by the office to check up on the rest of the team. And then tried to read a book, in the waiting room, but found it difficult at times.
Mostly, they would talk, but he could hear when Tony got frustrated, or angry, or upset at having to relive some of his experience at Cranston's request.
The first three sessions, he came out, a little dazed and pale. And wouldn't say anything to Gibbs at all, until they were home, and he'd been able to calm down.
On the fourth session, after Tony went in, Cranston turned to Gibbs, ever so quickly and said in a low voice, "Stick around today, Gibbs, I may need your help."
He nodded. "K'ay, Doc. Your party." And he sat, glasses on and his book cracked open, until he heard the volume going up on their voices. It had been at about an hour in.
Gibbs tilted his head, trying to listen. Cranston's voice was low, and a barely audible murmur, while he could hear Tony's getting higher, almost pleading with her…
He thought about going in, as he lowered the book down, but then thought better of it. She would let him know. He trusted her with Tony, which was just about as high a compliment Gibbs could give a shrink.
He could hear Tony now, a little clearer, as he narrowed his blue eyes in concentration.
"I can't!"
"Why? Why do you need me to…I…don't…
More murmuring from the Doctor.
Tony seemed to calm for a while, talking in a more natural tone…but before long, he was screaming.
"NO! Nonono…God!" It was broken, and agonized.
Gibbs was up and pacing, after throwing his glasses on the end table with his book.
The door opened, and she quickly motioned him in.
Tony was on the floor, curled over himself in a protective ball, hands on the back of his own head, fingers desperately entwined in his own hair.
Gibbs heard the gasping sobs, as he crouched down next to him.
He looked up at Cranston, who looked genuinely pained and motioned for him to talk to the shaking man.
"Tony, hey,"called gently, putting a light hand on his back. The touch sent a shudder through the younger man.
He moaned pitifully, but, at least it was some kind of response.
Cranston knelt down, not touching either one and said, "Tony, can you remember now, the picture we talked about. Can you see it?
He let out the words in a mournful, choking stutter, "I-I...can't do this…it's too hard…"
"Yes, you can."
Gibbs wanted to make Cranston stop whatever it was she was doing. It was causing so much pain…he almost couldn't bear it. But he held back, knowing he could possibly be doing more damage if he interfered.
"Yes you can, Tony. Change the picture. Use your imagination to see it. Take what you're seeing now, and make it a box, smaller in your vision…"
He was trying. He was trying so hard to listen to her voice. But he was in the room with Stratton, and the knife was flashing in his mind, red with his blood.
"God…don't…I can't…" he sobbed.
"What was the picture we had before? What was the picture we talked about?" her voice was firm, unrelenting.
Gibbs hated her now almost as much as Stratton.
"C-cabin…"he blurted out, "onna…lake…"
She looked immensely relieved. She had pushed him further than before, not because she felt he could replace the picture yet. Just because she wanted to be sure she could reach him somehow, through the trap of the memories, when he got caught in them. If he could keep his connection to her, he would later be able to change the picture.
"Okay, Tony, you can come back here to my office. You're doing so well. Just let what you're seeing fade and listen to my voice."
He had become exhausted, fighting to keep his concentration for so long through the images and whispering voices.
Gibbs put his whole arm around Tony to help him sit up.
"You are completely safe here. You're with me, and Gibbs, and my voice is real. We are real, this room is real."
Tony slid his hands over his face, afraid to open his eyes.
Afraid to find it all a lie.
Gibbs kept one arm around his shoulder, and with his opposite hand was gently trying to push Tony's hands away.
"You trust me, don't you?" she asked calmly.
There was the barest of nods.
"You trust Gibbs don't you?"
Another small nod, but his shaking and shallow gasps continued.
She nodded at Gibbs.
"Come on, DiNozzo," he said gently. "We're here. You're okay."
"Tony, your hallucinations, are they ever nice?" she asked, with quiet intensity, looking at him.
He quieted a little, thinking, and then let his arms drop slowly down, opening his watery eyes.
He blinked a few times, trembling, and then looked at her, almost in shock.
"No…they're…never good…never…"he croaked out, almost whispering.
He turned to Gibbs, with red-rimmed eyes, "they're…always bad, Boss…always…"
It was a realization, that could help him differentiate, reality from hallucination.
Gibbs was now dazzled by her talent.
Tony seemed to breathe more naturally, but he was completely done. His tear streaked face was paper white, and his eyelids were even starting to droop as he sat staring at Gibbs.
"Tony," Gibbs brushed a hand over Tony's face, "come on, let's get up now, ok?"
Tony nodded a little, breath returning to normal, but unsteady as the older man helped him to his feet.
"Just let him sit for a little bit," Cranston pointed to the couch.
Gibbs walked him the several feet, feeling Tony was close to collapse, and eased him down onto the couch. Once his head leaned back, his eyes closed almost immediately.
Gibbs sighed deeply and turned to her.
He was about to speak when she motioned him out to the waiting room.
He smiled a little, shaking his head.
"You know, I thought you were a little nuts, having him do this, with no medication…"
"Well, he still has the sedatives if the anxiety gets bad. And it will, sometimes. He did unbelievably well today…but it's a rough ride back. And you being here was very helpful."
"You and Tony did the work, Doc. But…I'm glad I was here. I wasn't sure…how that was gonna' go…"
"She smiled and shrugged, "Neither was I. Sometimes the sessions will be that bad, with no breakthrough to show for it. Other times, it will be a quantum leap. But, I'm even more confident now, we can help him overcome this. He just has to be brave enough to keep at this. And you and I know what he's really made of."
He looked at her with deep gratitude.
"I appreciate what you're doing. And if you need me to, I will make sure I'm here for the sessions, even with work. I may get stuck here and there, but I'll do my best, if it helps him." He swallowed, and shifted a little on his feet while he looked at her.
"Tony…means a lot to us."
She smiled, knowing the "we" really meant Gibbs himself.
"I understand, Gibbs."