Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and this story is not intended as an infringement of copyright. It has been written solely for entertainment and no profit has been made from its creation.
Patrem et Filium – Father and Son
Chapter Two
Dinner had been a subdued affair with the astute youngster quickly picking up on his foster father's tension and withdrawing into himself. Unable to put the discussion off any longer, Gibbs turned his chair toward the boy and explained the delay in acquiring a service dog.
He watched Tony's reaction closely - the utter disappointment on his young, pale face was like a spear to the former Marine's heart. Tony blinked away tears, refusing to let them fall as he reminded himself of everything Gibbs had given him.
"I...I understand, Gibbs," Tony said quietly.
"We're not giving up, Sport," Gibbs assured him. "It's just gonna take a little longer. If anyone can get this done, it's Ducky."
"I know," the boy whispered. "Could I please be excused?"
"You haven't finished your dinner. You can't mess with your Keto diet, Tony."
"I'll have a big breakfast in the morning," Tony replied, looking up through long dark lashes. "Please, Gibbs…I'm really tired."
Not wanting to press the boy, Gibbs nodded his assent and watched as Tony guided his wheelchair slowly down the hallway.
"I'll be right in," he called.
His own appetite now gone, he looked at his own half-finished meal and pushed the plate to one-side. Leaning back heavily in his chair, he silently cursed the fact that he had built Tony's hopes so high, only to watch them drop into a seemingly bottomless abyss. He was lost in his own guilt for several minutes before climbing wearily to his feet and walking to Tony's room to help him with his nightly routine.
"I'll run your bath," he told the boy as he walked toward the bathroom.
"Can I have my bath in the morning?" Tony asked, chewing on his bottom lip.
"We got an early start tomorrow, Sport," Gibbs replied. "I gotta go to work and you've got hydrotherapy with Ziva."
Tony's doleful expression silently pleaded his case and the tough Marine acquiesced.
"Just for tonight," he agreed before helping the boy out of the wheelchair and into his pyjamas and soft leg braces. Giving Tony his anticonvulsant meds, he watched as the boy washed them down with a glass of water.
"You brush your teeth?" he asked.
"Yes, Gibbs," came the subdued reply.
Nodding his head, the Gunny settled Tony into bed and reached for the copy of Oliver Twist they'd been enjoying each night. He opened it at the bookmark.
"Where were we?" he asked, knowing the boy would know exactly where they had left off the previous night.
"Gibbs," Tony whispered, not meeting the man's gaze. "I think I'd rather go straight to sleep tonight."
Sighing, Gibbs closed the book and reached over to brush the bangs from the boy's forehead, testing for a fever as he did so.
"You feeling okay?" he asked.
The blonde head nodded slowly.
"Tony look at me," he said, waiting until the sad, green eyes met his.
"I'm fine, Gibbs, really. I just want to go to sleep."
The boy settled into the bed and closed his eyes to shut out the man's further scrutiny. Leaning forward, Gibbs straightened the blankets then double-checked the settings on the seizure alert machine.
"Sleep tight," he whispered placing a kiss on Tony's forehead and dimming the light.
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After clearing the table and doing the dishes, Gibbs started a load of washing, shaking his head at the amount of extra laundry one small boy could create. Walking back to the kitchen he opened the fridge to prepare Tony's keto meals and snacks for the following day and sent a silent thank you to dietician, Nicki Jardine, when he realised she had stacked the freezer with Tony's pre-packaged meals.
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Gibbs made his way to the living room and thumbed his way through his pocket diary to check Tony's schedule –
0700 – 0900 Blood work-up and breakfast with Nurse Michelle Davis.
0900 – 1400 Hydrotherapy, physio and lunch with Ziva.
1400 – 1800 Home-schooling and afternoon tea with Cassie Yates.
Again, he gave silent thanks to the members of Team Tony. The help and support he'd received from his NCIS team mates and Tony's medical team had been invaluable but the nagging thought remained - if he were to return to work fulltime, could he continue to impose on these people on a permanent basis?
"Maybe tomorrow would be a trial run,' he thought.
A case that Gibbs had been heavily involved in, appeared to have gone cold when their informant disappeared without a trace. After an extensive search failed to find the marine, the team suspected he'd run afoul of the drug cartel he'd been involved with. Now, some six months later, Lance Corporal Powell had contacted the NCIS hot line, skittish, frantic and demanding to speak with Gibbs. McGee had managed to convince the man to call back the following day - and so, Gibbs was recalled to duty.
Gibbs missed his work at the Navy yard. His job and his colleagues had become his focus and his reason for living when he lost his wife and daughter. He missed leading his team – the thrill of the chase and the undeniable satisfaction of solving a case and bringing a criminal to justice. But when a certain eight year old boy with enormous medical challenges and a grin that wouldn't quit came into his world, he brought new meaning and a renewed sense of purpose to the Gunny's life. Did he want to take early retirement? No. Would he give up his career for Tony? In a heartbeat.
Draining the last of his coffee, Gibbs walked back into Tony's room and stood watching the steady rise and fall of the small chest. The child's deep rhythmical breathing left no doubt the kid was out for the count. Crossing the room, Gibbs reached to switch off the desk lamp when the boy's homework caught his eye. Tony had already completed his assignment by the time Gibbs told him of the unavoidable delays in acquiring a service dog. Several colourful drawings of a boy in a wheelchair and a dog in a bright blue service vest littered the desktop and misplaced guilt twisted Gibbs' heart like a pretzel.
His gaze fell upon one of Tony's schoolbooks - two pages of the boy's messy handwriting that he and Cassie had been working to improve. As the Gunny read on, the innocent words leapt from the page, pulsating with the boy's excitement. Without his glasses and in the muted light, Gibbs held the essay at an arm's length and squinted until he could decipher the words.
My New Dog
By Anthony DiNozzo Jr
A few months ago, bad men came to my old house and hurt me. An ambulance came and took me to the hospital but I don't remember that bit. When I woke up, I was very sad because my Dad had gone to heaven to be with my Mom and I was all alone.
But Gibbs came and he hardly ever left me because he didn't want me to be lonely. I was in the hospital a really, really long time because I can't walk anymore and I have epilepsy now. This makes me sad sometimes because I can't play basketball or climb trees or run really fast or ride my bike like a normal kid.
Then Gibbs asked me to come and to live with him and I said yes because I know he loves me and will take care of me. But first we had to see a lady judge because Gibbs said she was very smart. Gibbs is my foster father now – which is kind of like a real father because he gets to tell me father-stuff like "go clean your teeth" and "don't take your wheelchair near the ramp by yourself" and "chew your food properly."
But the best part about having a foster father is that we get to do cool things together like watching movies and trick or treating and going to the park on a really mad bike that Gibbs made just for us. Gibbs loves me like I am his real son - even though I can't walk and have epilepsy and am a lot of trouble sometimes.
I have lots of new friends like Abby and Kate and Tim and Doctor Ducky (that's not his real name. His real name is…I'm not sure what his real name is but it's not Doctor Ducky.) Jimmy and Breena and Jenny and Director Vance and Mrs Vance and Agent Fornell and Ziva and Nurse Michelle and Doctor Mac and Nicki and Miss Cassie, and Commander Coleman.
I even have some new kid friends like Kayla and Emily and Jared and Victoria (but she's just a tiny baby and too young to play with me.) They are all really nice even though Emily's really bossy sometimes because she's a girl. I have a new grandpa, too! I never had a grandpa before but I think my Grandpa Jack gives the best hugs in the whole world.
Last week I had a bad seizure. I don't remember it but I fell out of my wheelchair and hit my head really hard. That made Gibbs really sad because he said he should have been with me and I shouldn't have been alone.
So now Gibbs is going to get me a service dog! My dog will stay with me and help me turn off the lights and take off my socks and things like that. He'll be the smartest dog in the world and Gibbs says he'll watch my six and will bark for Gibbs to come quick if I have a seizure or if I need him.
When my dog's not working, we can play fetch together and go to the park to play and I'll tell him not to be afraid of Commander Coleman's dog Kort even though he's really big and only has one eye. He looks really, really mean but he's very friendly. I will give my dog lots of hugs and pats because he'll be my very best friend.
I can't wait until my dog comes to live with us and I can show him to all my friends. They will be really jealous because I'll have the best dog ever. But most of all, when my new dog is looking after me, I hope Gibbs can stop worrying about me because I want him to be happy again.
The End.
Gibbs closed his eyes; overwhelmed for a moment before making his way to Tony's bedside. Cupping the sleeping boy's face in his hand, he gently brushed his thumb across Tony's cheekbone.
"Way to break my heart, kid," he whispered, watching as the boy wrinkled his nose and then settled again. "You'll get your dog, Sport…I promise."
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The Gunny awoke with a start. Momentarily disoriented, he raised his arms defensively as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Realising he was in Tony's room, his trained eyes scanned the boy for any sign of distress and relief washed over him when he saw the boy was sleeping peacefully. Standing, he stretched to ease the stiffness in his back. Tony's seizure alert had sounded seven times during the night and they were both beyond exhausted.
Realising that he was already running late for work, Gibbs showered and dressed quickly, then hurried back to Tony's room to run the bath and prepare the boy for his day. The boy was unusually ill-tempered and uncooperative – a common disposition for children after suffering one grand mal seizure let alone multiple seizures. Tony's refusal to speak more than two or three words at a time, only added to Gibbs' frustration and concern.
Nurse Michelle Davis was due to arrive any minute and the boy was still lying in bed with his hair sticking up at odd angles and a stubborn set to his jaw. When Tony was first injured, Michelle was his favourite nurse and the two had quickly become fast friends. The young nurse had been an invaluable member of Team Tony once the boy was discharged. Twice a week, she called at the Gibbs/DiNozzo home to test Tony's Ketosis levels. As she started work at the hospital mid-morning, she would stay and have breakfast with Tony until Ziva arrived at nine to take the boy to the nearby indoor pool for his hydrotherapy sessions.
When it was clear that reasoning with the boy would get them nowhere, Gibbs suppressed his frustration, emptied the tub, and had just wrestled the listless boy into his clothes when Michelle knocked on the door. Still tired and cranky from the seizures and broken sleep, Tony refused to allow Michelle to draw his blood. The kid's skinny arms were black and blue due to the regular blood draws but despite the discomfort, he generally endured like a champion. Puzzled by Tony's behaviour, Michelle looked to the agent for an explanation.
"He had a bad night," the Gunny told her quietly. "Seven seizures."
A battle of wills ensued, and the longer Tony dug his heels in, the more Gibbs' frustration grew until, finally, the boy relented. As Michelle quickly and efficiently took the blood sample, Gibbs watched two large tears make their way silently down Tony's pale cheeks.
"He'll be fine, Gibbs," Michelle assured him. "I'm about to make him his favourite breakfast. Go…you're already late."
Leaning toward the boy for a hug, Gibbs looked Tony in the eyes and spoke quietly.
"See you tonight, Sport."
Tony nodded his head and turned away and Gibbs was tempted to call the office right then and resign all over again. He hated to leave the boy like this but placed a chaste kiss on the blonde head and forced himself to hurry out the door.
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At eleven-thirty, Ziva guided Tony's wheelchair up the ramp of the rehab pool and into a unisex change room. The boy had been unusually quiet and subdued all morning and Ziva watched him carefully; surreptitiously checking for fever or illness and later recording three absent seizures into Tony's seizure diary.
After towelling the boy down, she helped him into a pair of sweatpants and a sweater before guiding his wheelchair to the car and buckling him into his seat. The physiotherapist collapsed the chair and stowed it in the trunk before she realised she'd left Tony's sports bag and her wallet inside.
Whispering a curse in Hebrew, she started to unbuckle the boy's seatbelt.
"I am sorry, Tony," she said. "This will only take a minute and then we will go home and have some lunch, yes?"
"I can stay here," Tony replied quietly.
"Out of the question, young man."
"But why? You said it will only take a minute. By the time you help me with my wheelchair you could have been back already."
Ziva paused, looking thoughtfully at the boy and then toward the back door of the complex only twenty yards away.
"I'm not a baby, you know," he huffed.
Smiling, the young woman placed her hand gently on the side of his face.
"I know that, Tony," she smiled. "But Gibbs would have my hide if anything happened to you, yes?"
"What could happen to me in the car?"
After a long contemplative pause, Ziva replied.
"Nothing," she answered, pressing the remote button into Tony's hand. "You keep the doors locked and do not open them until I get back. If you need me, you press this button hard and hold it. The alarm will sound. I will be right back."
With one last look at the boy, Ziva jogged for the door of the complex and ran her access card through the reader on the wall. The door opened and she went quickly to the change rooms where she had left the bag. She baulked and looked around the room, but the bag was gone. Cursing silently again, she rushed to the reception area, grateful that the bag had been turned in to the "lost and found."
Having been delayed for several minutes, she headed for the parking lot, bursting through the door and feeling her heart jump into her throat when she saw a strange man talking to Tony through the half-open window.
"Tony!" she yelled. "Tony, no!"
She ran quickly to the car, placing herself between the man and the boy and wielding the sports bag threateningly.
"Who are you? What do you want?"
Stepping away quickly, the man held up his hands defensively.
"Take it easy, lady," he said. "I was walking by and I saw the kid alone in the car. I was just checking to see if he was alright."
Ziva's eyes narrowed and she took a quick glance at Tony before returning her attention to the man.
"Tony, are you alright? Did this man frighten you?"
"I'm fine, Ziva, really?" Tony told her; his eyes wide with alarm.
"If anyone's guilty of scaring the kid, lady, it's you!" the man said.
The young woman held her glare a moment longer before she shrugged apologetically and lowered the bag.
"I am sorry," she said. "I was concerned for the boy."
"Then next time, don't leave him in the car alone," the man growled angrily as he walked away.
Releasing a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, Ziva turned back to the wide-eyed boy and placed her hands either side of Tony's face.
"What were you thinking, Tony?" she asked. "I told you not to open the door – and you should never, ever, speak to strangers!"
"I didn't open the door, Ziva, I opened the window." Unaccustomed to the Israeli's raised voice, Tony dropped eyes to the ground. " He wasn't going to hurt me. I didn't mean to make you mad."
The young woman shuddered as she thought about what could have happened. Tony had seen his own father gunned down by strangers and yet the boy's trusting nature was still completely intact. Slipping a finger under the boys chin, she raised his head until he met her gaze.
"I am not angry at you, Tony," she smiled. "I am, however, very angry at myself for leaving you alone – even for a short time. We have both learned a lesson today, yes?"
"I guess so."
"Okay then. Let's go home and have some lunch. I am starving!"
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The level of Gibbs' frustration did not recede when he arrived at the Navy yard to find that Vance required his presence in a long and tedious meeting with Sec Nav and several other DC bureaucrats. If nothing else, it left him in no doubt that, for him, riding a desk was not an option.
When the meeting adjourned, he headed downstairs to the bullpen to meet with his team and get an update on the Powell case. Dialling Ziva's number as he sat behind his desk, he was not surprised when Ziva told him that Tony was napping. The boy loved his hydrotherapy sessions, but they were physically draining and with his seizures and broken sleep the night before, the agent knew the kid had to be exhausted.
"Gibbs, I must tell you of something that occurred this morning," the Israeli said tentatively.
"I'm listening," he replied feeling his gut tighten.
"It was completely my fault. I made a terrible judgement call and left Tony in a very vulnerable situation."
"What happened?"
Squaring her shoulders, the young woman explained what had happened in the parking lot of the sporting complex.
"When I think what may have happened...I..." she took a deep breath before continuing. "My actions were negligent and stupid, and I give you my word it will never happen again."
"Is Tony alright?"
"Yes, he was not harmed and did not appear frightened in any way."
"Learn from it and move on," Gibbs said succinctly. "I'll speak with Tony about talking to strangers."
After completing the call, Gibbs sat at his desk and ran his hands through his short silver hair.
His infamous gut tightened again; a nebulous acknowledgement of a danger narrowly missed. Without further hesitation he called the gym complex and asked if they had CCTV cameras in the parking lot area. When they answered in the negative, he ended the call and cursed under his breath.
Kate's voice sounded from beside him.
"Gibbs? Is everything okay?" she asked. "Is Tony okay?"
"Everything's fine, Kate," Gibbs replied. "What have we got on the Powell case?"
McGee rounded his desk and stood next to Kate.
"As you know, Boss, Powell called the NCIS hotline yesterday," he reported. "I spoke with him briefly and it appears he wants to make a new deal, but he will only speak with you. He said he'd call back at 15:00."
Director Vance had joined them in the bullpen by the time the call came through. Powell was nervous – like a man who knew he was in way over his head and wanted out fast. He told Gibbs that the cartel was expecting another delivery later that night, sometime between 18:00 and 22:00 at warehouse 47A on dock 29. The lead agent glanced at the director who nodded his approval.
"We'll be there," Gibbs told Powell and ended the call.
"He played us once, Boss," McGee said. "How do we know he won't do it again?"
"He went to ground six months ago, McGee. Coulda stayed there...he didn't."
"McGee and I have got this, Gibbs," Kate told him. "You should go home to Tony."
Gibbs was sorely tempted but, if he had taught his people anything, it was that they were a team and each member pulled their weight.
"Rule 38," he remined them. "My case, my lead."
Removing his cell from his pocket, he walked to the other side of the room. He needed to arrange a sitter for Tony and while he would usually turn to Abby or Kate, that was not an option as both were working tonight. Ziva had night classes, Jackson was in Stillwater and Tony's home-schooling teacher, Cassie Yates had already worked over her scheduled hours twice this week.
Scrolling through the contacts on his cell, he stared at the name before pressing the button and waited for the owner to pick up.
"Jenny? It's Jethro...I gotta big favour to ask."
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By the time Gibbs had briefed the two other NCIS teams joining them on this operation, it was almost 8PM before he got a chance to call home and say goodnight to his kid. He was surprised and somewhat disappointed to learn that Tony was already in bed asleep. Usually when Gibbs worked late, the boy would not go to bed until the Gunny had called to say good night.
"He feeling okay?" he asked Jenny.
"There was no sign of fever and he ate all of his dinner," she replied. "But I must admit, he hasn't been the happy little chatter-box we know and love."
"Any seizures?"
"Two absence seizures during dinner, another three during the evening. I wrote them in his diary. And before you ask, he had his anticonvulsant meds before he went to sleep and I've checked the seizure monitor twice...he's fine, Jethro, really."
"Could be a late night, Jen," Gibbs told her. "The guest room is made up."
"Thanks but I think I'd rather stay downstairs in case Tony needs me. Plus I have a huge selection of his movie classics to keep me company."
"Thanks, Jen...I owe you one."
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Tony rolled onto his side and glanced toward the window - it was still dark outside. Yawning widely, he closed his eyes again and snuggled back under his blankets but sleep was elusive. He thought about the last few days – the excitement of getting a dog and then the heartbreak of finding out there would be a long delay. He knew that Gibbs felt almost as let down as he did and he knew it wasn't the Gunny's fault. He'd tried really hard not to let his disappointment show but he couldn't help it...it just kind of leaked out of his eyes. He really, really, really wanted a dog.
Rubbing his face into the pillow, the boy made a promise. In the morning, he would tell his foster father that he was sorry for being upset with him and that he would wait as long as he had to for his dog. After all, Gibbs had already done so much for him and he didn't want the Gunny to think that he was ungrateful. In fact, with Thanksgiving quickly approaching, Miss Cassie and Tony had been discussing the many things the boy had to be thankful for and his new foster father was at the tippity-top of his list.
Tony frowned as he heard the sound of soft voices coming from the living room. Had Gibbs fallen asleep with the TV on again? He'd better go and wake him before he got a sore neck and got all cranky like he did last time. It took a great deal of effort but Tony manoeuvred himself until he was sitting, sweaty and breathless on the edge of the bed. He waited until his breathing returned to normal before lowering his body into his wheelchair, just as Ziva had taught him. Releasing the brake, the boy guided his chair down the hall to the living room where he found Jenny trying to calm a distraught Abby.
All colour ran from the boy's face and his large green eyes filled with fear.
"Where's Gibbs?" he whispered.
The women turned quickly, surprised to see him. It was Jenny who reacted first, quickly moving to crouch beside him and taking his hand in hers.
"Tony, what are you doing up? Are you okay?" she asked with a forced smile.
Ignoring the question, Tony looked past her to the forensic specialist with mascara tracking down her cheeks. He pulled his hand out of Jenny's grasp.
"Just tell me," he insisted softly. "What happened?"
Abby joined Jenny, crouching on the other side of Tony's chair. The two women exchanged a glance before Jenny spoke again.
"Tony, honey, Gibbs has been shot."
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A/N:- Thank you for the kind reviews and for the "favourites and follows." I'm very grateful. SMcG
