Silent Misery R&R - Chapter 16
by HidingInSight
On the main floor, Fornell was standing over the coffee machine, watching it drip. Goetz stopped in the archway to the kitchen and drew the gun. He held it out, but down.
"You need to leave," Goetz said. Fornell turned to look at him and saw the gun in his hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded. "Give me that." Fornell took a step toward him and Goetz brought the gun up. Fornell stopped, hands hanging at his sides.
"Put on some shoes and leave. Now," Goetz said.
"Why?" Fornell asked, not moving. He kept his eyes on Goetz's face, watching the gun out of his peripheral vision. He could see the safety was still on. Nonetheless, he could tell by the way Goetz held the weapon that the Corpsman knew what he was doing.
"I'm not going to let you stay here and keep hurting him," Goetz said.
"Hurting him?" Fornell echoed.
"Consensual means both players get to say no," Goetz said. "He's so new at this he doesn't even know about safe words." The gun was solid in his hand. "Then you ride him so hard you tear him? Without even using a condom? You ought to be arrested for attempted murder."
"What are you talking about?" Fornell said, his voice rising.
"For God's sake, you're HIV positive and you exposed him!" Goetz shouted back. "He may be willing to let you stay, but I'm not. Now get out."
Fornell stared at him, then suddenly started laughing.
"You think this is funny?" Goetz demanded and flipped the safety off. Fornell waved a hand, sobering.
"Yeah, it is," he said. "Or it would be if the situation wasn't so damn serious. You think I did that to him?"
"You're the one sharing his bed," Goetz said.
"So it must have been me," Fornell said. "Couldn't possibly have been, oh, I don't know, the son of a bitch he was hunting who's been responsible for the rapes of more than a dozen men and women over the past few months?"
Goetz stared at him. The gun was still up. "He was raped on duty?"
"Yes," Fornell said. "On Tuesday afternoon. Now put the damn gun down."
Goetz adjusted his grip, but didn't lower the weapon.
"I want to hear it from him," Goetz said.
"Fine. Let's go ask him," Fornell said.
"You go first," Goetz said. He stepped sideways out of Fornell's way, keeping the gun up. Fornell moved past him.
"You mind putting the safety on?" Fornell asked as they headed for the stairs. If you trip, I don't wanna get shot."
"Go," Goetz said, but he flipped the safety back into position.
They went up the stairs, Goetz a few steps behind.
"He's not going to be happy you figured it out," Fornell said quietly as they reached the top landing. "He's trying to keep it on the DL."
"If it's true, no one'll hear it from me," Goetz said. They turned into the bedroom. Gibbs had closed his eyes once again.
"Jethro," Fornell called. Gibbs looked up. For a second, he could make no sense out of what he was seeing. Then, he jerked as if physically shocked. He pushed himself upright, swaying a little.
"What the hell?" he said.
"Your friend here thinks I..." Fornell began, and Goetz cut him off.
"Did he hurt you?" Goetz asked.
"Hurt me?" Gibbs repeated.
"Yeah," Goetz said, waving his free hand vaguely at Gibbs.
"No," Gibbs said.
"How'd you get hurt?"
"On the job," Gibbs said. "What are you doing?"
"It wasn't him?" Goetz asked.
"No," Gibbs said with a tone and look that said 'are you insane?'
"Okay," Goetz said. He lowered the gun, flipped it over in his hand, and held it out to Fornell butt first.
"Sorry for the misunderstanding," Goetz said.
Fornell took the gun. "Misunderstanding," he repeated. "You hold me at gunpoint with my own damn gun and you call it a 'misunderstanding'?" He set the weapon on the dresser.
"Yes. I saw the medications in the bathroom, knew he hadn't been with men very long... then he wouldn't give me a straight answer about the two of you."
"So you jumped to conclusions," Fornell said.
"Sorry," he said again.
"If you weren't here to help, I'd kick your ass for accusing me of... that," Fornell said.
Goetz shrugged. "I don't know you. I had to be sure he'd be okay," he said. "I did what I had to do." He turned his attention to Gibbs.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. He pushed past Fornell toward the bed. Gibbs looked at Fornell, who shook his head in exasperation.
"Getting better," Gibbs said. "Still dizzy."
"Why don't you lay back down." Gibbs did, wincing a little at a minor twinge of pain.
"How's the nausea?"
"Better," Gibbs said. Goetz checked the IV bags, noting they were both about one-third gone.
"Good." He looked back to Fornell. "How about that coffee?" he asked.
Fornell stared at him, incredulous. "Really?"
"I'd appreciate it," Goetz said.
"I oughta make you get it yourself," Fornell grumbled.
"Go," Gibbs said. With a sigh, Fornell headed downstairs again.
"You could have asked me," Gibbs said to Goetz. The Corpsman again sat on the rocker.
"I did. You said you didn't know what I was talking about."
Gibbs frowned, reviewing the short conversation they'd had before Goetz went downstairs.
"Would have been better to ask outright."
"You might have denied it," Goetz said. "Victims of domestic violence often do. Especially male victims. I asked if you used a safe word and if he honored it, and you said you didn't know what I was talking about." Goetz paused. "You do know what a safe word is, right?"
Gibbs gave a small smile. "Yes, Dad, I know what a safe word is."
"Good. I didn't want to have to have 'the talk' with you." Goetz's face turned serious. "How badly are you hurt?"
"Doctor says it'll all heal in a week or two," Gibbs said.
"Are you in much pain?" he asked.
"It's not bad," Gibbs said. "The nausea was the worst of it."
"When did you last take Vicodin?" He'd seen that on the bath counter, too.
"Before bed last night." Goetz nodded again. He said nothing for a few minutes.
"Are you talking to someone?" he asked finally.
"Talking to him," he said.
"You need to talk to a professional," Goetz said. "Rape is more than a physical attack."
Gibbs nodded. "I know," he said.
"It's not something you can muscle through."
"I know that, too," Gibbs said.
Goetz nodded. "There's a support group at Bethesda for military men who've survived sexual assault. They meet weekly. I could get the information for you if you'd like."
Gibbs was surprised, and his face showed it. "It happens that often?" he asked.
"More often than most people realize," Goetz said. "I don't know how many attend, but they use a room that seats 30."
After a moment, Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. That might be good."
Fornell reappeared with two mugs of coffee. He handed one to Goetz and sat on the end of the bed with the other. Gibbs inhaled deeply, pulling in the aromatic brew.
"How long's it been since you had coffee?" Goetz asked, noticing his response.
"Day before yesterday," Gibbs said.
"Caffeine withdrawal might explain some of this, too," Goetz said seriously. "How much do you usually drink?"
"A lot," Gibbs said.
"You should drink some as soon as you can keep fluids down," Goetz said. "Caffeine addiction's no joke."
Gibbs nodded. He realized his stomach had finally settled. He wasn't ready to drink anything yet, mostly because he didn't want the absence of nausea to end too soon.
On the night stand, Fornell's phone alarm went off. Fornell got up and went around to stop it.
"He's supposed to take the ARVs at 7:00," Fornell explained.
"Let's wait on that," Goetz said. "I don't want to put anything into his stomach until we're sure the Reglan's done its thing. Another half hour won't make a difference."
While the bags of fluid drained into Gibbs' veins, the men sat mostly in stiff silence. Fornell was clearly grumpy, still put off by Goetz's accusations. Though he understood why the Corpsman had done what he did, it rankled. Goetz was ignoring him, watching his patient. For his part, Gibbs was too tired to bother dealing with the temperature in the room. He turned his focus inward to his rapidly recovering body, drifting a little. He thought he could actually feel his cells absorbing the fluid, stabilizing, returning to normal. The coffee was starting to smell more and more attractive.
By the time the bags were empty, Gibbs felt almost back to himself. Goetz took his vitals again finding everything to be within normal limits, and had him sit up. There was no headrush, no dizziness.
"How do you feel?" Goetz asked.
"Good," Gibbs said. "Better than in days."
"Any dizziness?"
"No."
"Nausea gone?"
"Yes," Gibbs said.
"Good. But don't get excited. It won't last." Goetz took his blood pressure and pulse once more. Satisfied nothing had changed with his change in elevation, Goetz put his equipment away and starting pulling out the IVs.
"The next couple of days are probably gonna be pretty bad. Take the Reglan four times a day until Monday. Then you can back off and see how you feel. It should keep the nausea away enough so you can keep food and your other meds down. Try and eat, even if you don't feel like it. You're gonna need the calories. And drink as much fluid as you can tolerate. You don't want to get this far gone again."
"Understood," Gibbs said.
"You should eat something now, get your blood sugar up."
"I'll make something," Fornell said.
"Good. It should be safe to take your meds now. Take a reglan, too. It won't hurt you."
Goetz applied pressure to the IV wound at Gibbs' neck while Gibbs folded his elbow up over the one on his arm. When both were clotted, Goetz tossed the empty IV bags, tubing and his gloves into the bathroom trash and washed his hands once more.
"You need me again, give me a call," Goetz said. He turned to Fornell. "Sorry again for the misunderstanding."
"Sure," Fornell said. Gibbs made a small sound of reproach. "Thanks for coming," Fornell added.
"Anytime." Goetz said. He reached for his bag, but Fornell beat him to it.
"I got it," the fed said, and Goetz let him. The two men left the room.
Gibbs took advantage of his improved condition to return to the bathroom. He ran water to brush his teeth. This time, it was the taste of stomach acid and vomit he was trying to get rid of.
Fornell returned to the bedroom and stepped into the bath with Gibbs' morning pills in hand. "Here," he said, and set the pills on the counter. Gibbs nodded and spat toothpaste in the sink.
"You wanna do the other now?" Fornell asked.
"Shower first," Gibbs said as he rinsed. He parked his toothbrush in the holder and filled the bathroom glass with water.
"Eat first," Fornell said. "Don't want you passing out in the shower from lack of food." Gibbs nodded again and started tossing back the pills. He still had no appetite, but he knew he should eat while he could. Which reminded him: He pried the top off the bottle of anti-nausea pills and took one of those, too.
Back in the kitchen, Gibbs popped the top on a meal shake and Fornell made toast with butter. He put two slices in front of Gibbs. The three days of liquid diet were technically not over until this afternoon, but he figured it was close enough. If Jethro was ready to eat, Fornell wanted to take advantage of it. Gibbs ate, enjoying the toast far more than he should have. Fornell offered something more. Gibbs declined, for now. He did accept his first cup of coffee in almost two days, though.
"So, who was he?" Fornell asked when he settled at the table with his own toast and coffee.
"Who?" Gibbs said.
"The Corpsman," Fornell said.
"Guy we looked at for a murder a couple years back," Gibbs said.
"How'd you clear him?" Fornell asked.
"He had an alibi."
"Must have been a doozy," Fornell said.
"Told me he was spending the night with his lover," Gibbs said.
"That's it?" Fornell asked, frowning his lack of understanding.
"His male lover," Gibbs added.
"Ah," Fornell said.
"I asked, he told," Gibbs said. "Reluctantly. Killer turned out to be someone else."
"And you haven't talked to him since?" Fornell asked.
"Nope," Gibbs said.
Fornell ate another piece of toast.
"How do you do it, Jethro?" he asked when it was gone.
"What?" Gibbs drained his shake. He was pleased to notice he didn't feel any dizziness when he tipped his head back. He straightened back up and looked across the table.
"How do you instill such loyalty in people?" Fornell asked. "More than 20 years in the Bureau, and I can't think of anyone who'd go to bat for me like he just did. The guy was ready to shoot me."
Gibbs shrugged. He'd never given it much thought, really. "He's a Senior Chief Corpsman," he said. "He's spent his entire career stepping up. It's in his blood." He tried to deflect the question.
Fornell shook his head. "No, it was more than that. He was acting like DiNozzo or McGee would. Like he owed you something."
"He does," Gibbs said. "He's still in the Navy. He told me he was gay five years before they repealed DADT."
"But it's not just him. Everyone who works for you, everyone you do business with, hell, everyone you've ever met who's not on the wrong side of an investigation thinks you're golden."
"Got three ex-wives who'd beg to differ," Gibbs pointed out.
Fornell sighed. "You're not gonna answer the question, are you?"
"I got no answer," Gibbs said. "You know me. I'm a bastard more often than not. I don't even know why Chief Goetz came. He must owe Ducky something."
"Doesn't explain why he jumped to your defense," Fornell said.
"What can I say? He's got a soft spot for victims," Gibbs said. He pushed back from the table and stood. "I'm gonna take a shower."
Fornell let him go. He hadn't really expected an answer. He honestly wasn't sure why he'd asked the question, except maybe out of some dim hope that Jethro would open up a little. Jethro and public introspection had never been friends. What he felt, he felt privately. That wasn't going to work for him this time, Fornell knew. But damned if he knew what would.
To be continued.