Silent Misery R&R - Chapter 5
by HidingInSight
Fornell's phone rang again almost immediately. He glanced at it and silently groaned. He needed to pick up. He didn't want to, not here, in front of Gibbs. He picked up anyway.
Gibbs heard a lot of mumbling, yeses and noes, before Fornell said something that caught his attention.
"Search it, gather the evidence, secure it in lockup... no, don't process it, just secure it... Because it's not our case... I don't care. Just do it." He hung up and glanced at Gibbs, who raised an eyebrow. Fornell thought about ignoring the implied request for information, wondered how long he'd be able to hold out, then gave it up.
"My people found the building, where it happened," he said, and waited for a reaction. To his credit – or maybe just because his energy was being consumed by the situation – Gibbs didn't flip out.
"Why were they looking?" Gibbs asked.
"Because someone had to secure the scene, for both cases, and I didn't think you wanted McGee or David involved yet. They're going to hold what they find, maintain the chain of evidence, until you're ready for it to be processed."
Gibbs gave that some thought. He hated – hated – working cases with second-hand evidence. On the other hand, Fornell was right: Someone had to do it, and he didn't want his team receiving evidence of... what happened... until he had a chance to prepare them.
"They know what they're looking for?" he asked.
"Besides the obvious?" Fornell said, and Gibbs nodded slightly. His pain was returning, and with the pain at his backside diminished by the numbing agent, his pounding head was garnering all his attention. "Yes. Between what DiNozzo told me when he called and what you've told me about the case you're working, I had enough to point them in the right direction. I told them there'd been an... assault... there earlier today, connected to your case, and your team was otherwise occupied. Made it sound like it was a favor."
Gibbs nodded a little. That would do.
"You need to tell your people something," Fornell said. "You've been off the grid for a couple hours now. McGee's probably ready to send out a search party."
Gibbs considered that. Fornell was right: He should have called them.
"Give me your phone," Gibbs said, and held out a hand. Fornell gave it to him. He looked at it and gave it back. "Dial McGee." He still didn't know how to use a damn 'smart' phone. He read off the number and Fornell dialed, handing it back to him.
"Are you guys okay?" McGee asked on hearing Gibbs' voice. "We've been trying to call you and Tony for over an hour."
"Where are you?" Gibbs asked.
"Navy Yard," McGee said. "We searched the building, nothing there." He paused for a second. "Where's your phone?"
"Not with me. Track it. DiNozzo's too."
"Hold on." There was the sound of clicking computer keys. In less than a minute, McGee's voice came back. "I've got yours. It's about 100 yards from the building you were searching. No signal from Tony's."
"Stationary or mobile?" Gibbs asked.
"Stationary," McGee confirmed. There was more clicking. "Satellite location shows it to be within three yards of... an alley behind the building next door. There's a row of dumpsters there. Are you guys alright?" he tried again.
"Give me the address." McGee did, and Gibbs repeated it back, sealing it in his memory.
"Tony's been hurt," Gibbs said. "He'll be alright, but he's spending the night at the hospital. You two go home. I'll meet you at the Yard first thing in the morning."
"Are you sure? I mean, shouldn't we go be with him?" McGee asked. Gibbs knew full well it was tradition to have a member of an injured officer's unit present when hospitalization was required. As support and protection. He couldn't allow that this time. Someone for DiNozzo meant someone for him.
"I'm here, Ducky too. Don't need anyone else. He'll be discharged in the morning. Tell Ziva. Go home."
There was a moment of stillness from the other end.
"If you're sure..." McGee said. He sounded anything but sure.
"I am. Do it." He hung up.
"You're not going to be able to keep it from them for long," Fornell said as he took his phone back. "They're too good, and they care about you too much to just let it lie."
"They'll leave it alone for tonight. That's all I need," Gibbs said.
"Are you sure?" Fornell asked, and Gibbs had to sigh. The only time his team had ever disobeyed an order from him was when it came to family.
"No, I'm not," he admitted. "Send your people to that address and find my phone. McGee says it's in a dumpster in the alley. See if they can find Tony's cell and our guns, too."
Fornell made the call, quickly relaying the information. He slipped his phone away and leaned back in his chair.
"You aren't really planning on working tomorrow, are you?" he asked a minute later.
"Why not?" Gibbs asked.
"For God's sake, Jethro, look where you are," Fornell exclaimed. "You're gonna need to take some time."
"Why? We play hurt all the time."
"Hurt," Fornell said. "Sure. Bad shoulder, bum wrist, little through and through. But this? This is different."
"Only if you make it different," Gibbs said, and in that moment, Fornell heard his hidden plea: Please don't let this be different. Please don't let this make us different.
Fornell leaned in close, hooked his first two fingers and pointed at his own eyes. "Look at me, Jethro, right here." When their eyes were locked, he continued.
"This is different. But we're not. You're still the same man you were 24 hours ago. The same man who rocked my world last night. We've both seen how this works: It's likely to screw you up for a while. But I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this. I promise."
Gibbs stared at him, eyes narrowed, for a full minute or more. Fornell didn't look away. Finally, Gibbs spoke: "Rocked your world?" he said, and smiled.
"In a manner of speaking," Fornell said, and grinned back. Gibbs reached across and used his index finger to trace the worry line across Fornell's forehead. He trailed his finger down around his eye, across his cheekbone and down his jaw to his chin. When his finger reached Fornell's lips, the FBI man kissed the tip.
"We'll get through it," Fornell repeated. Gibbs nodded.
"So you'll take a few days off?" Fornell asked after a minute.
"We'll see what the doctor says," Gibbs granted. Fornell figured that was as good as he was going to get for now.
"Gimme another swab," Gibbs said, and Fornell did. This time, Gibbs merely swiped it thoroughly around his mouth, then handed it back.
There was a knock on the door, and again, Gibbs flinched. His startle response was on overdrive, which they both knew was not unusual for victims of trauma. They just never thought it would be either of them.
"Come in," Fornell called.
Jessica reappeared. "How are you doing, Jethro?" she asked.
"Ready to get it over with," Jethro said.
"Okay. I'll let them know." She worked her pager again as she rounded the bed to checked the monitor.
"How do you feel?" she asked when she got a look at his vitals.
"Same. Pain's coming back," Gibbs said.
"Any trouble breathing?" she asked.
"No. Why?" he asked.
"Wait just a minute," she said. Jessica pushed a button and the pressure cuff began inflating. She came around the bed with a penlight in her hand. Fornell slid sideways out of the way.
"Look at me," she said, leaning down over Gibbs. She shone the light into each eye, watching the reaction. He winced at a spike of pain the light caused in his head. She murmured an apology.
"What's wrong?" Fornell asked when she straightened. He felt his own pulse rate rising.
"His blood pressure's a little low. But his pupils are fine, and he's not having any respiratory distress. So it's probably not the morphine."
"What is it then?" he asked.
"Blood loss, probably," she said. The cuff finished, and she read the monitor. "It's not dangerously low, just lower than we'd like." She reached over the bed and loosened the clamp on the bag of IV saline, opening the flow. It had been just barely dripping, intended to keep the vein open without adding significant fluid to his system.
More taps on the door and Jessica bade enter. The team returned.
"Hello, Jethro," Marc said. "You ready to resume?"
"Ready to finish," Jethro said.
"Finish is still a ways away, I'm afraid," Marc said. "We'll get there as quickly as we can. How's he doing?" he asked Jessica.
"He says the pain's back, and his pressure's a little low," Jessica said as they all washed up and three donned gloves again. "Pulse's still a little high. Respiration and pupils are fine."
"How low, and how high?" Marc asked.
"96 over 60 and 90, a minute ago."
"You give him a bolus?"
"Just started," she said.
"Labs back yet?" he asked. Jessica went to the computer and entered a password. She found the results and read them back.
"Blood count's a little low," Marc confirmed. "Jethro, you have any objection to a blood transfusion?"
"No," Gibbs said.
"Order him a unit," Marc said, and Jessica worked the computer, sending the order. He returned to the side of the bed Gibbs was facing.
"I'd like to give you a little more morphine for this part," he said. "With your vitals where they are, though, I'm hesitant. We can either try it without, or wait and see if the transfusion works."
"How long?" Gibbs asked.
"It'll be half an hour at least to get the blood and get it transfused. Then we'd probably want to wait another half hour or more to be sure your vitals have stabilized."
"No," Gibbs said. "Do it without."
"Okay. I'll take it as easy as I can."
They set up on the other side of the bed and Fornell returned to his place. Jessica resumed her position and her task, narrating everything that was going on out of Gibbs' line of sight. When they pulled back the now-cooled shock blankets, Gibbs took Fornell's hand. When Marc told him to raise his knee, then proceeded to spread his cheeks and press against his anus again, Gibbs jerked and squeezed Fornell's hand, hard. When the doctor began to stretch the muscle, Gibbs clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, and the tremors began.
"Here we go, Jethro. I'm going in with the scope now," Marc said. There was no response from Gibbs.
Marc slowly pushed the scope inside, lubrication and the loosened muscle easing the way. Still, the metal stung and bit against the tears in Gibbs' anus. The renewed pain combined with the indignity of what was happening and Gibbs felt himself start to slide into his head.
When the scope was fully inserted, Marc sat down on the other rolling stool to get to the right eye level.
"How you doing, Jethro?" he asked. No response.
"Jethro?" he called again. Nothing.
"Jethro?" Fornell repeated. Gibbs was squeezing his hand in an almost painful grip. His eyes were tightly shut, his jaw clenched. "Talk to me, Jethro." No response.
Jessica stood and stepped up to the bed. "Jethro, I need you to answer," she said. When there was still no response, she pulled back the blanket to expose a bare shoulder, then grabbed the thick trapezius muscle and squeezed hard.
"No reaction," Jessica said. She was clearly concerned.
"Vitals," Marc said. Josie poked the monitor and the cuff recycled. "Tobias, is he holding you?" Marc asked.
"Yes. Very tightly," Fornell said. The tone of his voice echoed the fear beginning to creep in. "Jethro? C'mon. Talk to me."
"Is he seizing?" Jessica suggested. Marc laid a hand on Gibbs' right leg through the blankets.
"No," Marc said when he felt no tension there.
"Heart rate steady at 92, pressure 98 over 60, respirations 20 and normal, pulse ox... 99 percent," Josie reported.
Marc took a breath. "Alright. He's not in any apparent distress. Let's get this done, quickly," Marc said. "Jess, keep an eye on him. Let me know if anything changes."
They picked up the pace and six minutes later, Marc withdrew the scope. He and Josie manhandled Gibbs back into his original position. Gibbs never relaxed his hold on Fornell's hand. When he was again lying on his side, Marc inserted the lubed nozzle of an anal douche and washed Gibbs out, collecting the water for sampling. He refilled the douche with what he explained to Fornell was a medicated wash. Fornell kept talking to Gibbs, trying to get a reaction, getting nothing. His fear was real now. He'd never seen Gibbs so... absent. Jethro was obviously conscious, the punishing grip on his hand showed that. But no matter what Fornell said, Gibbs kept his jaw clenched, his eyes screwed shut, and said nothing.
When he was done, Marc pulled the gown back down and Jessica grabbed another set of shock blankets. She quickly dragged the old blankets off and replaced them, topping the new set with the old to keep the heat in longer.
"Keep talking to him, Tobias," Marc said. "Latisha, go find out where the blood's at. Josie, draw another three tubes for the lab, stat. I want to see what's going on. Jess, order a stat head CT. He might've blown something."
"What?" Fornell exclaimed.
To be continued...
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