Silent Misery R&R - Chapter 4
by HidingInSight
The triage nurse showed DiNozzo into a double room just around the end of the hall from where they'd left Gibbs and Fornell. The other bed was occupied, but the curtain was pulled around it and all Tony could hear was the soft beeping of a heart monitor. He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, careful to protect his ribs, and waited. He felt a little dizzy, kind of nauseated, generally unstable.
He was trying hard not to think about what had just happened. Gibbs had traded himself for Tony. Sacrificed his own ass – literally – to prevent further harm from coming to him. As second in command, Gibbs' right hand man, it was Tony's job to watch Gibbs' back. And he had failed, miserably.
Tony braced his ribs and laid over sideways onto the bed, rolling onto his back when that position was too painful.
They'd been searching an abandoned building for evidence connecting its owner of record to a loan shark operation. The operation's enforcers had been using rape as a means of punishment for those who were late paying the vig. Only it was rarely the borrower who got punished; it was almost always the borrower's spouse or children. Both females and males had been victims, the youngest only 16. No one knew how long they'd been getting away with it, since the victims had all been too afraid to call the police. Their mistake had come when one of the thugs had raped a Navy Lieutenant whose husband had a gambling problem. She – and her reluctant husband – had gone straight to NCIS and spilled the whole story. Gibbs' team followed the money and found more than a dozen victims. They'd also found whispers of the identity of the man in charge of the operation and discovered a collection of properties he owned in and around Washington, D.C.
Gibbs and DiNozzo had paired up to check out the building outside Fort Washington while McGee and David searched a second location in the District. The men had gone opposite directions through the maze of small rooms, a precautionary clearing of the building before they started searching for evidence that might have been left behind. It was a routine task, something they'd done a thousand times before. And the building was supposed to be empty.
There was just Tony, moving through the building, silence all around except for the faint sounds of his feet moving across the dusty floors and what he assumed was Gibbs' feet doing the same somewhere to his left. Then there was an explosion in his head and he went down. He'd woken up in a small internal room, already beaten and bound. He'd immediately seen Gibbs across the room on his knees, also bound. Then the well-dressed bastard who seemed to be in charge had started pawing him before 'giving' him to his goon, Alejandro. DiNozzo would remember that name – and the face that went with it – until the day he died. He'd known what was about to happen and had tried to prepare himself for it. Not that there was really any way to prepare for rape.
Then Gibbs had changed the game, offering himself in Tony's place.
Why the hell had Gibbs done that? Not that deep down Tony wasn't glad he had. He'd watched that bastard raping his boss, and the overwhelming emotion he'd felt was gratitude. Followed immediately by shame. It should have been him, damn it. He was the one who should have taken it. Still, he didn't think he'd have endured it as well as Gibbs had. Even now, when he thought about being on the receiving end of... that...
Tony's stomach rolled. He couldn't hold it this time, and he barely managed to get back up on his side before he threw up all over the edge of the mattress and onto the floor. The pain that brought to his chest and ribs was instantly overwhelming and Tony fought blackness. He heard a high-pitched moaning sound and was startled to realize it was coming from him.
He'd emptied his stomach but the spasms were still ongoing when a nurse poked her head into the room. She took in the scene and strode over.
"It's alright, breathe through it. It'll pass." She rubbed his upper shoulder and after a minute, the spasms did stop and he rolled back flat. She saw the damage to his face and frowned.
"Did you hit your head?"
"Yes," Tony groaned out, squinting at her through his one open eye.
"Did you tell them that at triage?" she asked.
"No," Tony said.
"Well congratulations, my friend. You just earned yourself a head CT. And a better room." She stepped over to a small sink and brought back a wet washcloth and a small stack of towels.
"Wipe your face," she said, handing the wet cloth to him. She dropped a towel on the floor to cover the puddle of vomit and moved it around with her foot as she slipped on a pair of gloves out of a box on the wall. She bent to wipe the floor, used another towel to wipe up what had landed on the sheet, and laid a third clean towel over the wet spot on the mattress.
"What's your name?" she asked as she put the dirty towels into a laundry bin. He wiped his mouth, spitting into the cloth.
"Tony DeMarco," he said. It was the name of one of his Ohio State frat brothers. It would do for this.
"Have you been through registration?" she asked. She took the dirty cloth from him and gave him a clean one, then stripped off her gloves and dumped them in the trash.
"No. The nurse just brought me back here," he said.
"Okay, we'll get that taken care of in a bit. Hang on, we're going for a ride." She raised the rails and kicked the bed's brakes loose, pulling it out of the room.
Back down the long hall toward the front of the ER. Tony kept his eyes closed, the nausea threatening to overwhelm again. He didn't think it was from any head injury. What Gibbs had endured in the name of saving him, what he was probably going through right now... Tony had read his share of sexual assault kit reports. He knew the routine. Knew there would be a physical exam that in many ways would be as bad as the rape itself. Pictures would be taken. Gibbs' entire body would be swabbed and sampled. They would pull hair samples out by the roots, to compare his living hair to hairs that might have been left behind by that bastard. Fine-toothed combs would be run through hair never intended to be combed. All made worse by Gibbs' fiercely, aggressively, intensely private nature. The exam would be nothing short of a second rape.
Tony grabbed the rail to pull himself onto his side and retched again. Nothing came out but yellow bile.
The bed turned and Tony opened his good eye. Though he'd never been a patient at Washington Hospital, he recognized the room immediately: Trauma.
From that point, it was a blur of people talking to each other and to him, calling out orders, arranging for tests, examining his head, his face, his ribs. Tony laid back and let it happen, participating only when necessary, lost in a haze of guilt and shame, occasionally overcome with nausea and waves of dizziness.
After he'd been fully examined, after CT scans had been performed and many x-rays had been taken, after he'd been dosed with anti-nausea meds and pain meds and the treatment was over for now, Tony laid back on the semi-reclined bed and forced his mind back to the matter at hand. He refused to let himself think any more about the attack, instead focusing on the aftermath. The call to Fornell, his light-speed arrival, Gibbs holding his hand all the way to the hospital...
Tony had long suspected there was something developing between his boss and the senior FBI agent. It had happened so gradually, over so many years, that he didn't really believe what his gut was telling him when it started to whisper that maybe the reason Gibbs had stopped marrying redheads was because he'd found what he needed in Fornell. The first time he'd put any serious thought into it, he'd had to laugh. Gibbs as a gay man? It just didn't compute.
Still, the signs were there. The way they fed off each other on cases, like an old married couple. The concern Fornell had shown for Gibbs after the explosion at the Navy Yard. The concern going the other way when Fornell was shot. He'd watched Gibbs rub Fornell's back as he sat on the ambulance tailboard and wondered.
More signs: Gibbs hadn't been involved with anyone in longer than Tony could remember. They'd thought he was having a fling with that doctor from Psyops, but in the aftermath, she disappeared and it seemed they'd been wrong. For reasons unexplained, Gibbs' spare room had stopped being a spare room a long time ago. The older man had never mentioned what he'd turned it into, never invited Tony to see what it had become. Then there was the fact that lately it seemed Fornell whenever Tony showed up at Gibbs' house, Fornell was already there.
When it started to add up, Tony had kept his thoughts to himself. Because really, it was crazy. Gibbs and Fornell? Really? No way.
He knew better now. If their clasped hands on the ride to the hospital hadn't convinced him, the tender way Fornell almost carried Gibbs into the ER, the looks of concern bordering on fear, the absolute trust Gibbs had shown in Fornell despite what he'd just been through... taken together, it more than sealed the deal.
Which brought Tony to another concern: Gibbs had shied away from his touch. That had never, ever happened before. No matter what they'd been through, Gibbs had trusted him always. It had taken some time to develop, but once the trust was there it had always been Gibbs and DiNozzo, DiNozzo and Gibbs. Anticipating each other's moves, knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses, and playing them like maestros. Now, it seemed that trust had been shattered in a single act of barbarity. Because of Tony's failure.
"Anthony?"
A voice he knew. Tony opened his one available eye to find Ducky standing at the foot of the bed. They were otherwise alone.
"Ducky," Tony said.
"How are you doing?" Ducky asked. He moved over next to the bed and reached for DiNozzo's wrist. Tony let him take it.
"I'll live. How is he?"
"They're still examining him," Ducky said. Satisfied at the pulse he could feel, he carefully set Tony's hand back on the mattress.
"I'm fine. Go take care of him," Tony said.
"He's in good hands. Agent Fornell is with him. He asked me to see to you."
"Well I'm fine," Tony repeated. Ducky looked around the trauma suite, located a chair, and dragged it over next to the bed.
"Can you tell me what happened, Tony?"
Tony told the tale, the info they'd gotten about the building's possible connection to the loan shark, the decision to split up and clear it, the footsteps Tony now realized had not been Gibbs', the blow to the head, waking up in the office with Gibbs and the three men.
"He gave me to his goon. I was about to get screwed. For real. Gibbs started taunting him, turned the focus away from me, took my place. Why the hell did he do that, Ducky?"
"If you could get him to answer at all, I imagine he'd say he did it because it was his responsibility to keep you safe," Ducky said.
"And it's my responsibility to keep him safe," Tony said.
"Indeed," Ducky said. "And if the choice had been yours, would you not have done the same thing? Taken the punishment yourself?"
"In a New York minute," Tony said.
"Then you must try to let it go. The choice was not yours, it was his, and he made it."
"I should have done something, tried to do something," Tony said. "I just laid there while that bastard..."
"Anthony, you mustn't do this to yourself," Ducky chided. "You'd been badly beaten. You were unarmed, tied up... What do you think you should have done?"
Tony shook his head, then stopped at the echoes of pain that caused. The drugs they'd given him were good, but he still had to be careful. "Something," Tony said.
After a minute, he spoke again.
"He wouldn't let me touch him."
"I beg your pardon?" Ducky said.
Tony sighed. "After they left, I cut us loose, got him up, bandaged the wounds." He swallowed hard. "It was like any other time he's been hurt. He leaned on me, trusted me to do what needed to be done. We walked almost two miles to find help. I half carried him the whole way, he was in so much pain. After Fornell got there, when we got to the hospital, I went to help him again and he flinched. Like he was afraid of me. Like he didn't trust me."
Ducky gave a sigh of his own. "He's been injured in ways he doesn't yet understand," he said. "His reactions are going to be... unpredictable... for a while. You musn't take it personally."
"He was okay with Fornell," Tony pointed out, trying not to pout.
"Agent Fornell," Ducky said, "is a special case. They've known one another for many years. They share an ex-wife. Their bond is very strong."
"Stronger than ours?" Tony asked. "For twelve years, Gibbs and I have worked together eight, ten hours a day, five, six days a week. The things we've been through... How could anything be stronger than that?"
Ducky smiled a little. "Between them, it's different," he said.
Tony considered him for a moment through his one open eye. "There's something going on, between those two," he said.
"I do believe there is," Ducky confirmed.
There was a tap on the wall next to the entrance to the trauma suite. Ducky looked around.
"Hello, are you Tony?" a young woman asked. Tony angled his head, trying to see her. She stepped closer to the bed and put herself in his line of sight. A man who looked to be a few years younger than Tony was standing just behind her shoulder.
"Yes," he acknowledged.
"I'm Latisha, from the Sexual Assault Response Team. We're working with your partner, Jethro?"
"How is he?" Tony asked immediately. Latisha smiled at him.
"He's medically stable," she said. "I'm afraid that's all I can tell you unless I get his permission."
"Of course," Tony said with resignation.
"They're taking care of him," Ducky said again.
The young man stepped forward. "Hi Tony, I'm Brian. I'm a rape crisis counselor, I work with SART. Jethro asked me to come talk to you."
"Why?" Tony asked, frowning. "It wasn't me who was..." he trailed off.
"He told us a little about what happened," Latisha said. "He thought you might want to talk to someone about it."
"That's not necessary," Tony said.
"Tony, may I have your permission to review your medical records?" Ducky asked.
"Well, yeah," Tony said, like that was one of the dumber questions he'd heard today.
"Good. I shall do that now. Perhaps this young lady can give me access?"
"Right this way," Latisha said, and they left the suite. Brian took the seat Ducky had left.
"I sense a conspiracy," Brian said.
Tony had to smile. "Family," he said. "Always getting in your business, thinking they know what's best for you."
"It's good to have family," Brian said. "How are you related?"
"We're not," Tony said. "Don't have to be related to be family."
"That is true," Brian said. "Some people never get that blessing."
Tony gave a little laugh, which turned into a groan.
"Are you alright?" Brian asked.
"Broken rib," Tony said.
"Do you need more pain medication?" he asked.
"No. Just need to remember not to laugh," he said. "I was thinking about family. I didn't have family for years. Now sometimes I think I've got way more than I want."
"So who is Jethro to you?" he asked, and Tony almost laughed again, swallowing it down.
"Don't you have any easy questions?"
"Okay," Brian said with a smile. "How about this one: How do you feel?"
"Beat up," Tony said immediately. "But all in all, survivable."
"Most things are," Brian said. When Tony frowned, he elaborated. "Survivable."
"Guess we're going to find out," Tony said. For several minutes, there was nothing but the beeping of monitors.
"You were there, when Jethro was assaulted," Brian said finally.
"Yeah," Tony said, and closed his eye against the immediate memory.
"Want to tell me about it?" Brian asked.
"No," Tony said, opening his eye again.
"Okay," Brian said. "Jethro wants to be sure you know it was his choice, and it wasn't your fault."
Tony took a shallow breath, then another. "It was supposed to be me. The guy had already told his thug he could have me. Gi..." He paused, respoke. "...Jethro put himself in the line of fire. Took it for me."
"You don't sound glad about that," Brian said.
"I'm not," Tony said. "It should have been me."
"Why do you suppose he did that?" Brian asked.
Tony looked over at him, debating with himself. There were advantages and disadvantages to going there. He really didn't want to talk about this. Not yet. But he wasn't above admitting sometimes that a professional, objective ear could help. Might be worth trying to dump some of this on someone who didn't know him, who he wouldn't have to hide from.
"He thinks it's his job to protect me," Tony said. "He doesn't understand it's my job to protect him."
"Sounds like you've both got the same job," Brian said.
"We do. Usually, we don't both have to do it at the same time," Tony said.
Brian nodded. "And this time?"
"I was already hurt. He wasn't. He probably figured he could take it easier than me."
"Was he right?"
Tony started to shake his head, stopped in time. "It doesn't matter. This wasn't just one of us getting hurt. This was rape."
"Which is different," Brian said.
"Hell, yeah, it's different," Tony growled.
"Why?"
Tony's face hurt from the look he tried to give the younger man. "Rape isn't just a physical hit. It's all tied up in self-worth, and dignity, and ego, and anger..." he trailed off. "And it's even worse when it happens to a man."
"I'm glad you realize that, Tony. Jethro's going to have a tough road ahead of him, and he's going to need you to keep doing your job, keep protecting him. He's going to need strong friends to help him deal with his feelings."
Tony scoffed. "Jethro doesn't deal with his feelings. He ignores them until they go away."
Brian shook his head.
"I can guarantee you that is not going to work for him this time. He's going to have to work out what he's feeling somehow. Just like you're going to have to work out your feelings about letting this happen to him."
"I didn't let it happen," Tony objected immediately. "There was nothing I could do."
"Do you believe that?" Brian asked.
Tony paused, blew out some air, felt pain in his chest. "No," he finally said. "I should have done something."
Brian smiled. "Now we're getting somewhere. Tell me what happened."
X-X-X-X-X
Ducky was on the last page of Tony's medical record when his cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID, recognized Fornell's number, and wondered when the FBI agent had inherited Gibbs' ability to know when he had something.
"How's the exam going, Special Agent Fornell?" he asked when the call connected.
"Ugly," Fornell said. "He wants to know how Tony's doing."
"Would you like to put me on speaker so Jethro can hear and we don't have to go through this twice?"
There was a shuffling sound as Fornell did just that. "Okay, Ducky, you're on," Fornell's voice came, now from further away.
"How are you, Jethro?" Ducky asked first.
"Fine. How's Tony?" Gibbs replied. Even given the quality of the speaker, Ducky thought his voice sounded rough.
"Battered and bruised, but only minimally broken," Ducky said. "They have him in trauma. He suffered a head injury that is overall classified as mild. That said, he has several moderate cerebral contusions and is showing signs of concussion, though thankfully there is no significant bleeding in his brain. He has a complete fracture of the left sixth rib with several additional micro-fractures in the fifth, sixth and seventh ribs on that side."
"Micro-fractures?" Gibbs asked.
"Microscopic cracks," Ducky said. "Painful, but ordinarily not harmful. However, given his prior lung damage, the additional pain on inspiration puts him at higher risk for pneumonia. As the medical staff is unaware of his this, it will be up to us to ensure he participates in respiratory therapy after he is released to prevent that from occurring."
"We will," Gibbs said. Ducky continued.
"CT scans of his chest and abdomen are otherwise negative. However, he also has a non-displaced hairline fracture of the right orbital cavity."
"Any eye damage?" Gibbs interrupted.
"It's highly unlikely. Normally, damage to the orbit is caused by displacement of the cavity. The eye recedes, putting stress on the orbital nerve. The CT was negative and shows no displacement, but damage can't be fully ruled out until the swelling goes down and he is able to tell us what he sees."
"What else, Ducky?" Fornell asked when Gibbs didn't.
"He was dizzy and vomiting in the ER, which is a strong indicator of concussion. The doctor recommended keeping him overnight for observation. Anthony has declined."
"Tell him he doesn't have a choice. It's an order," Gibbs said.
"I will pass that along," Ducky said. "He's going to be sore for quite some time, and as I said, we will have to keep an eye out for signs of pneumonia, but it appears he will heal."
"Is he talking to the counselor?" Gibbs asked.
"I believe he is. I left them alone some time ago, and the counselor has not left the room."
"Good," Gibbs said. "Keep an eye on him. Call me if he refuses to be admitted."
"Will do," Ducky said.
To be continued...
Thank you to all who've reviewed. I'm having so much fun delving into Gibbs' psyche, and I'm glad you are enjoying it too. Please keep commenting. It makes me very happy to get your emails.