Silent Misery R&R - Chapter 27
by HidingInSight
"It's okay," Fornell whispered. Gibbs shook his head. "I'm here." Gibbs nodded and kissed him again, gentler this time, then took Fornell in a hug and settled his head on his shoulder. The fed held him and rubbed his back. Fornell could feel tremors against his hands, and Gibbs' heart bumping against his own chest. They stood together for several minutes, Fornell swaying them slightly from side to side.
"You wanna tell me?" Fornell asked after a while. Gibbs lifted his head to look back over his shoulder into the bathroom. It was empty. As was usually the case, Mike's disappearance was as sudden and explainable as his arrival.
"No," Gibbs breathed. He stood for a few moments longer, then: "Sit with me."
Gibbs pulled away and reached for Fornell's hand. He took the left, noticing peripherally that the right was wrapped in gauze. The men sat on the edge of the bed, hips and thighs touching. Gibbs was still trembling slightly.
"Tobias …" Gibbs started before stalling. He took a breath but didn't go on. Fornell waited a minute, two, then spoke.
"I love you." Gibbs squeezed his hand but said nothing. Another minute passed before Fornell continued. "It's okay, Jethro. Whatever this is, whatever happens, I'll be here."
Gibbs nodded, an almost smile appearing for a split second. He raised their joined hands and kissed the back of Fornell's, then turned it over and kissed the palm. He rested his lips against the inside of Fornell's wrist, feeling the strength of his pulse beating. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of his love, feeling the calm spread. He thought maybe he could live here forever, right in this moment, when no one was making demands, no one needed anything from him, no one needed saving, and he could just … breathe.
"Ah-hem…"
Gibbs' eyes snapped open and both men turned toward the door. Abby was standing there. Her expression was mostly concern, though Gibbs thought he saw a little embarrassment there, too. Fornell started to pull away, and Gibbs tightened his hold just a bit.
"Director Vance is gone," she reported.
"Thanks," Fornell said.
"Are you alright, Gibbs?"
Gibbs nodded.
"Give us a few," Fornell said.
"Okay," she said, and slipped away. Gibbs turned his attention back to Fornell, but the moment was broken. He released Fornell's hand.
"Were you on surveillance in Georgetown last night?" he asked.
Fornell didn't even try to deny it. "Yes," he replied.
"Who'd McGee find?" he asked. He took a deep breath.
"Found Alejandro, identified his boss."
Gibbs bobbed his head, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Anyone we know?"
"Local thug named Rafael Montero. Owns a bunch of legit businesses, in addition to the criminal ones. Alejandro is his second."
Fornell waited for the explosion. Gibbs merely nodded again. He put his hands together, fingers intertwined, trying to still them. The anxiety had passed, his pulse and breathing had returned to normal, but he couldn't stop the shaking.
"You bring him in?" Gibbs asked quietly. Fornell figured he was still processing the information.
"No. We're gonna leave him in place, wait 'til he leads us to Montero then take them both. I've got agents on him round the clock."
Gibbs nodded again. He was still trying to get his head around what had just happened, and didn't have the brain power to try and figure out how he felt about that. He would soon, but not yet.
"What happened to your hand?"
Fornell looked down at the bandage. "Broke a glass last night."
"How?" Gibbs asked.
"Put it down too hard."
Gibbs' expression narrowed and he tilted his head. "Why?"
Fornell gave a half smile. "Leave it alone, Jethro."
Gibbs chuckled a little and shook his head almost fondly before standing.
"Stay there." He went to the bathroom, emerging a moment later with the first aid kit.
"Let me see it," Gibbs said when he saw Fornell beginning to object. Fornell sighed and held up his hand.
Gibbs quickly unwrapped the gauze and examined the cuts. There were four: Two on Fornell's index finger, one on his thumb, and one on his palm near his pinky finger. Gibbs had figured he'd punched a window, or a mirror, or something, but the lack of cuts on his knuckles belied that theory. He probably had just broken a glass. None of the cuts were deep enough to need stitches, though the one on his thumb was longer than Gibbs would have liked. Gibbs applied antiseptic gel and used band-aids to seal each cut. When he was done, he kissed Fornell's hand one more time before letting it go. He patted him on the thigh and stood again.
"Come on. Abby's making breakfast."
Secretly hoping that meant Gibbs was hungry, and really glad Gibbs hadn't pushed him any further about how he'd cut his hand, Fornell followed him downstairs.
Abby was standing in the dining room waiting for them. She had loose fists together under her chin and was bouncing slightly on her toes. Gibbs smiled at her and beckoned her over. She quickly came to him, closing him in a hug.
"It's okay, Abs. I'm okay." She nodded against his chest but didn't let him go.
"Scary, huh?" he whispered in her ear. She nodded again.
"I'm okay," he said again. She squeezed him and stepped back. Her eyes were damp, and a tear had leaked out of one. He reached up and thumbed it away, then kissed her on the forehead.
"I'm okay," he repeated once more. She nodded and cleared her throat.
"Sorry for interrupting. Upstairs."
Gibbs' smile grew larger. "It's okay."
"So, do you want scrambled eggs or omelets?" she asked.
"Scrambled," Gibbs said. "And some toast."
"Good," Abby said with a big smile. She padded back into the kitchen. Gibbs took a seat at the table.
"You hungry?" Fornell asked.
"No," Gibbs said. He carefully picked his shoes and socks off the floor.
"But you're gonna eat?" Fornell asked.
"No," he said.
Fornell looked a little confused. "So why ask for scrambled eggs?"
"She already cracked them. You don't like omelets." Gibbs raised one foot to slip on a sock and shoe, then repeated with the other before looking back at Fornell. "Why didn't you call me?"
"Last night?" Fornell asked. Gibbs nodded.
Fornell paused. There it was. He figured the best answer was the truth. "You weren't in any shape to come along. If I'd called, you would've."
Gibbs thought about that. "McGee go with you?"
"Yes," Fornell said. Then: "Don't blame the kid. He really wanted to call you."
"Uh huh," Gibbs said. "How hard did he fight?"
"Give him a break, Jethro. He's stuck between following your orders and protecting you. It's not a nice place to be."
"Uh huh," Gibbs repeated.
"He's your agency's lead on this case now. He needs to know you trust him to run things."
"I do," Gibbs said. "He's capable and smart. But so's DiNozzo and look where …" he paused, his breath hitching. "It's not about him. It's about … These assholes already got us once. They can't get a second shot."
"They won't," Fornell said firmly. "We're all eyes open on this one."
Abby came out with the coffee pot and a jug of juice in one hand, a sugar bowl in the other, three glasses between her arm and her side, two mugs dangling from her fingers. She set them out like she'd been waiting tables her whole life. "Food'll be up in a minute," she said as she spun back into the kitchen.
Gibbs pulled over the mug he'd abandoned earlier and grabbed the pot. "Tell me about him," he said.
"Who?" Fornell asked. He grabbed his own mug.
"Montero," Gibbs said as he poured. He didn't look at Fornell.
Fornell put two spoonfuls of sugar into his mug before taking the pot and filling his mug.
"Been around awhile. Mostly in Virginia and the District. Started with street girls 20 or more years ago, moved up the ranks. Money laundering, protection, some foreign imports. Owns some legit businesses, including a fantastic steakhouse in Georgetown. I'd pay double what he's charging for the nachos." Fornell stopped momentarily to sip at his coffee.
"Looks like he got into street loans about the time his import business took off. No indication of how he got into his current scam. The Bureau's got some intel on him, but not a lot. He hasn't bothered the citizenry much, and we've got better things to do than chase down street thugs who only hurt their own. He hasn't been a 'high value target.' Until now."
Gibbs nodded, considering that. Abby returned, this time with a bowl of scrambled eggs, a plate of toasted and buttered bread, a stack of plates and a handful of silverware. She dealt out the plates and the utensils.
"What're you guys talking about?" she asked.
The two men exchanged a glance. They were saved from answering by a knock on the door, which was followed by the door opening. Fornell had left it unlocked out of habit.
"Good morning, Jethro," Ducky said as he appeared in the living room carrying his medical bag. "Agent Fornell."
"Dr. Mallard," Fornell acknowledged.
"Would you like to join us for breakfast, Ducky?" Abby asked.
"Thank you, Abby, but I've already eaten," Ducky said. "I just came by to check on my patient."
"I'm fine, Duck," Gibbs said.
"No he's not," Abby said. Gibbs gave her a look, and she responded with a small shrug.
"Well since I'm here, I'll just check a few things," Ducky said.
"Why are you here?" Gibbs asked. His tone was softer than his words.
"I thought I might be needed," Ducky said. "I understand you've had quite the morning."
Gibbs sighed. "Any way I can avoid this?"
"Not one I can think of," Ducky said with a patient smile.
Fornell ladled some eggs onto a plate. He held it out to Gibbs, who shook his head. Fornell set it down and pushed it toward him.
"I understand you haven't been eating," Ducky said. "Is it nausea?"
"I'm not hungry," Gibbs said.
"When did you last eat?"
"You busy today, Abby?" Gibbs asked. He turned toward her, ignoring Ducky for the moment.
"Nothing I can't rearrange. Why?"
"I need you to relieve Ziva at Tony's."
"Really?" Abby asked, clearly surprised. "Don't I, like, need a gun for that?"
Gibbs gave a stiff smile. "Just keep him company, Abby. And make sure he stays away from the sleeping pills."
"I can do that," Abby said, nodding rapidly. "I'll need to go home first."
"Soon as you finish eating," Gibbs said. He turned back to Ducky. "After breakfast," he said, and grabbed a slice of toast. He tore a piece off and slipped it into his mouth. "Happy?" he asked as he chewed.
"Some," Ducky said. He poured himself a cup of coffee.
Fornell made up a plate of his own, adding two slices of toast. He began to eat, watching Gibbs with sidelong glances as the other man ate the bread one small torn off bit at a time. Abby helped herself and soon there was silence save for the sound of utensils on stoneware. They could all feel the tension.
Abby quickly finished and took her plate to the kitchen. On her return, Gibbs beckoned her over.
"Thank you for staying," he said, and leaned up to kiss her cheek. She beamed at him and draped her arms over his shoulders in a backwards hug.
After she was gone, Ducky pushed his mug out of the way and put his bag up on the table.
"I understand there was a little drama this morning," Ducky said as he took out his blood pressure cuff. Gibbs said nothing,
"Was it like the time in Chelyabinsk?" Ducky asked.
Gibbs sighed. "More like Panama City," Gibbs said. Fornell stared at him. This had happened before? At least twice? And Ducky knew about it?
Unaware of Fornell's incredulity, Ducky nodded with understanding. "And now?"
"Better," Gibbs said. Ducky wrapped the cuff around his bicep and efficiently took his pressure. When it was done, he counted Gibbs' pulse, and listened to his lungs.
"Do you have anything to report, Agent Fornell?" He asked when he finished.
"He's not eating," Fornell said. He would file the startling information away for now.
"Is it the nausea?"
"Some," Gibbs said.
"And something else?" Ducky asked.
"Maybe," Gibbs said.
"Well, your vital signs are still elevated."
"How elevated?" Fornell asked.
"Just out of normal limits for a man his age," Ducky hedged.
"And for him?" Fornell asked, clearly unwilling to allow the obfuscation.
Gibbs answered first. "He's fine."
"Fine is stretching it a bit, Jethro, but you're not in any danger." He put away the cuff and stethoscope. "Director Vance was quite concerned."
Gibbs acknowledged that with a nod.
"I'd prefer you not lose any more weight, either," Ducky continued.
"I'm not …" He paused, considering the belt he'd had to pull over an extra hole this morning.
"… hungry," he finished.
"I understand that," Ducky said, "and it's perfectly reasonable. But you really need to keep your calorie count up. You can't fight illness or infection if your body is craving nutrients."
"Do my best," Gibbs said, his resignation clear.
"Good," Ducky said. He was about to continue when Fornell's phone rang. The G-man answered and they waited.
The conversation was brief. Sounds of acknowledgment, an instruction to call Agent McGee and wait for NCIS, followed by "because it's their case," and a few more yeses and okays. He hung up and took a breath. He said nothing for a long moment while Ducky and Gibbs waited.
"That was the SAC on the Georgetown op," he said. He took another breath. "Alejandro went to Belle Haven for a round of golf this morning. With three other men. They're not confident, but they're pretty sure one of the three is Moreno."
"Your agents inside the country club?" Gibbs said.
"Yes."
"That's a private club," Gibbs said.
"Uh huh. They strongly suggested to the manager it would be far better for the club's reputation if he didn't get in the way. He had no objection."
Gibbs nodded. In this part of the country, reputation was king. Fornell continued.
"They're gonna try and ID all three of the others, only make the arrest if they're sure it's him."
Gibbs pushed back from the table. "Let's go."
"No," Fornell said.
Gibbs glanced sharply at him.
"You can't be there," Fornell said with somewhat forced calm. "And neither can I."
"Why the hell not?" Gibbs demanded.
"You know why not," Fornell said. "You're a victim. When was the last time you let a victim, or their …" He stumbled a moment, casting a fast side-glance at Ducky before continuing. "… Family be in on a bust?"
"This is different," Gibbs stated unequivocally. "Are you coming?" He stood.
"No," Fornell said flatly.
"Okay. I'll drive myself."
"You try and I'll shoot out your tires."
"Gentlemen!" Ducky interrupted when Gibbs took a breath to frame his response. "Might I suggest MTAC?"
Both agents looked at him. There was a moment while comprehension dawned. Fornell raised his brow, asking. Gibbs considered and finally nodded, clearly reluctant but willing to go along. Fornell nodded back and pulled out his phone.
"I'll do it," Gibbs said. He flipped open his own phone and made two quick calls: One to McGee to tell him to bring surveillance equipment to the club, and the other to MTAC to let the weekend intelligence analysts know they were on the way.
"You're driving," Gibbs said when he was done. He headed toward the door. Fornell glanced at Ducky, ready to apologize. Ducky smiled and waved him off.
"You'd better go, Agent Fornell. I'll see myself out."
NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS
On the way to the Navy Yard, Gibbs' phone rang. DiNozzo, checking in. Gibbs remembered he'd instructed DiNozzo to call, but he was too focused on what was coming to do anything other than get him off the phone as quickly as possible.
When they entered MTAC, they found technicians at two of the work stations in the darkened room – normal for a Sunday – but the rest of the monitors and the big screen were blank. They'd arrived before McGee started the feed.
"Agent Gibbs," one stood as they entered. "Where do you want it?"
"Big screen," Gibbs said. He knew it was unlikely that anything would happen at the arrest that he would want kept secret. Not that the personnel manning MTAC weren't used to keeping secrets, but as Gibbs found himself thinking a lot in the last week, this was different.
The tech handed them each a headset and they put them on, microphones up and out of the way, before taking seats in the gallery. A moment later, the screen was filled with color bars.
"It'll be up as soon as Agent McGee comes online," the tech said, and Gibbs nodded his thanks.
In the silence that followed, Fornell watched Gibbs peripherally. Gibbs' leg was bouncing slightly and he was leaning forward with his tightly clasped hands between his knees, forearms on his thighs. After a glance at the analysts showed they'd returned to their business, Fornell rested a hand on Gibbs' knee. Gibbs tensed, his knee immediately freezing in place. He looked down at Fornell's hand, then up at his face. His expression was unreadable.
"It's gonna be alright," Fornell whispered. Gibbs said nothing, returning his focus to the screen. Fornell let his hand slide away.
A minute later, the color bars blinked out and there was moving video. It took a few moments to understand what they were looking at: Someone was wearing a body camera clipped to his or her chest. The camera was about the size of a deck of cards, and while certainly not hidden, it was unobtrusive. It was the kind of thing beat cops were beginning to wear all over the country. The camera was bouncing and moving in such a way that after a little thought, both agents realized the wearer of the camera was riding a golf cart. For almost a minute, there was silence. Then a hand rose, momentarily blocking the lens as the sound started.
"You there, Boss?" McGee's voice. He was the one wearing the camera. Gibbs straightened up, pulled down the microphone and cleared his throat before acknowledging with a single "Yeah."
"They're on the fifth hole. We're going to catch up with them out there and try to keep the spectators down."
Gibbs grunted a response. He watched intently as the camera moved and bounced, passing groups of golfers in carts and on foot. Finally it zeroed in on a group in the distance.
"There they are," McGee said. "We've got positive ID on Montero and Alejandro. Nothing yet on the other two."
The camera moved closer, the men in the distance growing bigger. Gibbs squinted, trying to bring them into focus faster. A moment later the cart came to a stop and McGee got off. The picture's movement changed to McGee's loping stride. They could see other feds in suits stepping in and out of the edges of the picture to McGee's left and right, and when McGee turned to say something to the person next to him, they saw Ziva was there too. The group approached the foursome and made their presence known. All four men turned to look at McGee.
Gibbs drew in a sharp breath and tensed.
"Boss?" McGee said over the headset, in the same moment as Fornell said "Jethro?"
Gibbs snatched the headset off and held it in a trembling hand, his eyes tightly closed.
"Talk to me, Jethro," Fornell said, turning toward him.
"The one in black," Gibbs said without opening his eyes. "He's the one who… " He swallowed hard, unable in the moment to say the words.
"Okay," Fornell said, understanding. "What else?"
"On the left," Gibbs choked out through a rapidly closing throat. "He was going to … He wanted … DiNozzo."
"Got it. The others?"
"In the green," Gibbs said. He was trying to breathe and finding it inexplicably difficult. "He was the… third."
"Okay." Fornell waited. Through his headset he could hear McGee addressing the men, could see the agents surrounding them. In the room, Gibbs' breath was coming faster. One of the techs turn in his chair and start to stand. Fornell stopped him with a raised hand and a head shake.
"What about the last one?" Fornell asked as on the screen and in Fornell's headset, McGee started making arrests. Gibbs didn't respond.
"Jethro?" Fornell said, reaching across to squeeze Gibbs' thigh. Gibbs shook his head. "No," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Fornell nodded, confirming the identification of three of the four to McGee through the headset. McGee acknowledged. Fornell could hear the three arrestees objecting as federal agents put them in handcuffs, but none of them were fighting. Looked like McGee and Ziva had it in hand.
"Kill the feed," Fornell called out to the techs.
"No," Gibbs said again, his eyes popping open. "Leave it," he added, his voice a little firmer but not much. He put the headset back on and slid the microphone into place, struggling with it a bit.
"Who's the short one?" he demanded hoarsely.
On camera, McGee asked the fourth man for his name. The answer was an unpleasant surprise: He identified himself as the men's lawyer and demanded to know why they were being arrested.
"Don't answer that," Gibbs said.
"Jethro," Fornell said cautiously. It wasn't technically required, but it was unusual not to give some explanation when you starting slapping the cuffs on.
"Just bring 'em down here. Separately. If the lawyer wants to come, he can call a cab," Gibbs said.
"Got it," McGee acknowledged. Gibbs nodded and pushed to his feet. His knees shook but held. He again pulled off the headset and pushed it toward Fornell before striding up the ramp toward the door.
"Gibbs, wait," Fornell called after him. He tossed both headsets onto the chair as he rushed to follow.
Fornell exited MTAC in time to see Gibbs round the corner at the end of the hall. He hustled after him, reaching the corner as Gibbs pushed through into the restroom. Fornell slowed a little and took a breath before following him through.
The sound of retching reached him immediately. Fornell twisted the deadbolt on the door to ensure their privacy before walking down the aisle of stalls. Gibbs was in the large accessible stall at the end of the row, the door resting in its open position. Fornell stepped into the stall to find Gibbs kneeling over the toilet. He put a hand on Gibbs' back.
"Don't!" Gibbs said sharply and Fornell recoiled. He retreated to lean against the opposite wall. Gibbs vomited again, his whole body heaving with the effort. Fornell watched silently. There was nothing to be said.
After the heaving finally stopped, Gibbs settled back on his knees, then twisted to sit against the wall, his head hanging.
"I am so damn tired of this," Gibbs said. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Being sick, or hanging out in bathrooms?" Fornell asked softly. Gibbs blew out a short laugh. "Maybe Ducky has something stronger than the Reglan," Fornell added. Gibbs shook his head.
"Wouldn't help. S'why I don't wanna eat," Gibbs said sourly.
"No it's not," Fornell said. Gibbs' head jerked up.
"What?" he asked.
"That's not why you don't want to eat," Fornell said.
"Oh? Why then?" Gibbs asked, a small twist of sarcasm flavoring his tone.
"I don't know yet," Fornell admitted. "But there's something else going on there."
"Great," Gibbs said, and now the sarcasm was plain. "You get a psych degree with your coffee this morning?"
Secretly thrilled to hear Gibbs' usual banter making a small reappearance, Fornell shook his head and shrugged at the same time.
"No degree necessary," Fornell said. He waited for Gibbs to say something more. When he didn't, Fornell pushed away from the wall and went to the sinks, returning a moment later with a handful of wet paper towels. He held them out to Gibbs, who took them almost begrudgingly. Fornell moved a few feet down the wall, leaned back and slid down to take a seat on the floor, his legs stretched out in front.
Gibbs wiped his face before pressing the wet towels against the back of his neck with both hands and closing his eyes. He raised his knees to rest his elbows on them and turned his focus in, trying to wrestle back calm.
They sat in silence for a long time. There was tension, but not between them. At least, Fornell didn't think it was between them. He wasn't exactly comfortable sitting on the tile, but if it was where Jethro needed him to be, he'd sit here forever. He pushed the memory of Jethro refusing his touch to the back of his mind to be dealt with later. Or not.
As Gibbs sunk deeper into himself, he became less and less aware of his surroundings. Somewhere in his subconscious, he knew Fornell was still there: It was the reason he was able to go so deep, here in this semi-public space. He'd worked in and out of this building for more years than he liked to remember, and he knew there was no danger here. Well, not normally anyway. Still, he was almost always on guard, aware, ready to react and respond in a heartbeat, no matter where he was. The current … situation … had only increased his vigilance. But with one of his trusted few at his back, he let the world slip away.
... to be continued