Chapter Five
Worse
Gibbs wasn't certain what it was that dragged him from his deep, blissful sleep. It was a luxury his body didn't usually allow, and he was more than a little irked that it had been interrupted. The second he heard the deep, gasping coughs coming from the other room, however, the cobwebs vanished from his mind and he leapt off the couch. He slammed Tony's door open and hurried across the room, flicking on the lamp that rested on the nightstand before turning to his distressed agent.
Tony's eyes were wide and panicked as he struggled to drag air into his abused lungs. He held himself upright with one shaking arm as the coughs wracking his body sought to double him over. Gibbs noticed the half-opened drawer on Tony's nightstand, and after caring for his ailing agent after he'd first been brought home from the hospital, he knew what Tony had been seeking.
Pulling open the drawer, he removed the inhaler, clasping it in one hand as he rested Tony's trembling torso against his own shoulder. He offered what support he could, knowing Tony wouldn't be able to use the inhaler until he'd weathered the storm. Once the coughing slowed, he held the inhaler to Tony's lips and gave a firm puff.
"Breathe in slow and as deep as you can. You know the drill," Gibbs murmured, still supporting most of Tony's weight.
The coughing always took a lot out of the younger man. When he raised his shaking hand to try another puff, Gibbs was alarmed to see a faint bluish tinge to his fingernails.
This wasn't good. He knew what he'd have to do, but Tony wasn't going to like it. Not that it mattered, but the younger man had been through a lot already, and despite his reputation, Gibbs did have heart underneath all the gruff. It was just three sizes too small.
After the second puff, Tony finally seemed able to breathe, although it came in short, staccato gasps rather than anything sounding remotely normal. His forehead glistened with sweat, and his usually perfectly-styled hair lay flat against his head, damp and limp. His fever was back.
Gibbs didn't want to give him any more of the meds Ducky had provided until he was able to talk to his friend and give him an update on Tony's deteriorating condition.
"S'ry," Tony said, still panting. "M'fine."
Gibbs rolled his eyes and gave Tony a very gentle head slap. At least his attitude was normal, even if the situation was about as far from fine as it could get. "Shut up, DiNozzo."
"Shut…ting up… Boss," Tony said, his body still resting limply against Gibbs. The fact he didn't even attempt to pull away was all Gibbs needed to know about his condition.
"I'm calling Ducky. He's gonna want to check your O2 levels again. We'll do whatever he says," Gibbs said firmly, reaching around the ailing DiNozzo to stack several pillows in order to keep him somewhat elevated. Lying flat tended to make breathing more difficult, as he'd alarmingly learned recently. He eased his charge back onto the pillow pile.
Tony opened his mouth to argue, but Gibbs interrupted him.
"Not up for negotiation. I win. Try and go back to sleep," he said, gently running his hand along DiNozzo's head before realizing what he was doing.
He quickly pulled his hand back, startled by the instinctive reaction. He distinctly remembered doing the same thing long ago to his beloved daughter when she was ill or distressed, but whatever had possessed him to think of DiNozzo – who definitely wasn't a child, never mind his own – in that way?
Tony's eyes had already fluttered shut, at least saving Gibbs the embarrassment of having to explain. He turned out the light but left the door cracked so he could hear another bout of coughing if needed.
He slouched back onto the sofa, now wide-awake and looked around the still apartment. The filtered street lights from the city below lit the room with a muted glow, enabling him to see the items left scattered on the coffee table. Knowing what he needed to do, he reached for his phone. Ducky picked up on his end far-too-quickly for two o'clock in the morning.
"Hey, Duck," Gibbs said, sighing.
"Jethro, is Anthony all right?" he asked in lieu of a greeting. He'd obviously been expecting something.
"Woke up nearly coughing up a lung. He managed to work through it, but he's still sort of gasping more than breathing," Gibbs said.
"Yes, I was afraid of that," Ducky said.
"What should I do? He used that inhaler they sent him home with, but it's almost gone," Gibbs asked, already planning to get a refill of the inhaler prescription.
"I'll swing by in the morning to check his oxygen levels again, but if he's really struggling, you're going to have to take him into Bethesda. I'll give them a call so they're prepared," Ducky said gravely.
"Not sure if it was just the dim lighting, but… I think his fingernails looked a little blue," Gibbs said, forcing the words.
Ducky sighed. "Well, that certainly escalates things, but not unexpected given his breathing difficulty. It's good that you're there, Jethro."
Gibbs shrugged, although of course Ducky couldn't see it. "Not really doing much."
"You're there – I'm certain Anthony appreciates not having to go through it alone. I imagine awakening and being unable to breathe is more than a little distressing. He needs you – even if he's too stubborn to admit it," Ducky said firmly.
Gibbs ignored him. "He's sleeping, but it's not restful."
"No. The coughing will fatigue him, but the congestion in his lungs will keep waking him up. It's a vicious cycle. Just keep an ear out, and if his breathing deteriorates any further, take him to Bethesda posthaste."
"Will do," he said, shutting his phone.
He settled back down on the couch, knowing any more quality sleep was useless but would give it an effort. It hadn't been fifteen minutes when his phone rang. DiNozzo had coughed a few more times in his sleep, but Gibbs could hear the labored breathing and knew it wasn't a deep slumber.
"Gibbs," he said.
"Jethro, I've spoken with Bethesda, and they want you to bring him in now. They'll be awaiting your arrival at the Emergency entrance. They're concerned about a relapse and want to run blood tests on both of you," Ducky said.
"Both of us? I'm fine, Duck," Gibbs said, rolling his eyes. He understood being cautious, but he also chaffed at the waste of resources unnecessarily. He never enjoyed being poked and prodded by medical professionals, although he was aware his thoughts were making him sound more and more like DiNozzo.
"Of course, but the Pneumonic Plague can be spread through cough droplets, and you've been next to him all evening. I'm sure the tests will be negative, but it's best to be cautious. I'm sure you'll agree," Ducky said.
Gibbs didn't agree, and he was certain the reason Ducky said it was that he knew it. Gibbs hated being placated. Still, he wouldn't put DiNozzo at risk.
"All right. I'll get him up and over there. Plan on an extra few minutes where he's going to whine," Gibbs said.
"I'm sure you'll enjoy needling him until he complies, then. I'll meet you there," Ducky said.
/* /* /* /*
When Gibbs pulled up to the Emergency entrance at Bethesda Naval Hospital, gravel crunching beneath the car tires, several people dressed completely in hazard gear rushed over to meet him. They'd stopped him before he could get out of the car, and directed him to a side entrance where he could drive right in.
Luckily, DiNozzo had fallen into a fitful slumber in the passenger seat, but it was enough that he wasn't aware of their reception committee. Gibbs knew he'd balk, and he really couldn't blame him. This was already bringing back disturbing images of watching Tony struggling for air a few weeks ago in Gibbs' mind, and he could only imagine the panic it would induce in the younger man.
As if somehow hearing Gibbs' thoughts, Tony opened his listless eyes. Naturally. Kid never made anything easy.
"Boss?" he asked blearily, looking around.
The hospital personnel had opened both car doors and instructed them to step out. Gibbs did so quickly, moving around to the other side of the car where DiNozzo was still staring at all the hazard suits with trepidation. He'd resisted going to the hospital when Gibbs roused him, but it was a weak protest. He was obviously unwell, and had had several more episodes of debilitating coughs before they'd finally arrived.
"They're just being cautious, DiNozzo. You know what they're gonna want to do. Blood tests, then we'll get you some antibiotics," Gibbs said, watching the younger man closely.
At NCIS when the bio-hazard team had come to collect Tony after he'd opened the plague-filled letter, he'd greeted them with jokes and his usual happy-go-lucky nature. Despite the fact Gibbs had gone along with his act, he'd been able to see the disquiet beneath the humor. This time, Tony's eyes were wide and wary, not even a hint of a joke seemed to occur to him. Gibbs knew far better than these medical personnel what an ominous sign that was.
Tony looked over at him as if weighing the truthfulness of his words, but he stepped out of the car without assistance. They were led into a small room that looked like a micro version of a lab and heard the hissing of air behind them as the door closed. The room had an airlock.
DiNozzo inhaled shakily, and Gibbs watched as he collected himself. Even as sick as he was, a mask of nonchalance morphed across his face. If asked, even Gibbs would admit he was impressed. Of course, that was one of the reasons why he'd recruited the young detective from Baltimore.
"So, how many vials are we talking?" DiNozzo asked, sounding bored despite the raspy quality to his voice.
The technician winced apologetically. "Unfortunately, they've ordered a full work up just so we know what we're dealing with. Please take a seat, both of you, and we'll get started."
"Both of us?" Tony asked, frowning as he glanced over at Gibbs.
The technician nodded. "Since there is a risk that this is a relapse of Pneumonic Plague, which is highly contagious, we're going to check both of your blood."
"But, the version of the plague I had was supposed to have a kill switch," Tony said. "Are you telling me that it not only can come back, but get others sick as well?"
Gibbs could see where DiNozzo was going. He was already more worried that he could've infected Gibbs than he was about his own mortality. Typical.
"Told you they're going to be overly cautious. No sense worrying about what we don't know," Gibbs said, sitting down and rolling up his sleeve for a blood draw. DiNozzo reluctantly did the same.
A pair of technicians took a number of vials of blood and then sent them individually into the bathroom for a urine sample. They were also handed hospital issue, sterilized pajamas to change into, allegedly so they could be comfortable while they waited. The two folded sets of blue pajamas were identical to the ones that both Tony and Kate had worn the last time they'd been here.
By the time they had finished with all the samples and had changed, Gibbs patience – which was usually on a short fuse – was gone.
"How long until we know the results?" Gibbs asked, stepping right into the personal space of the technician who had taken his blood.
The technician jumped back like a scared rabbit, his eyes beneath the protective shield impossibly wide.
The door behind them whooshed open again, and another person in hazard gear came inside. He walked over to them, staring curiously at Gibbs and the skittish technician.
"I'm Dr. Dae-Hyun Byun. I'm a pulmonologist on duty here this evening. I understand one of you is having breathing difficulties?" he asked.
At that moment, Tony's lungs cooperated by causing a series of harsh, wet coughs, forceful enough to cause Tony to grab a chair for support.
"Yes, I see," Dr. Byun said, frowning. "I'm going to take a few X-rays and check your blood oxygen levels so we can see what we're looking at."
The doctor escorted Tony into an adjoining room, leaving Gibbs with one of the blood drawing technicians – not the skittish one who had disappeared.
"How long?" he demanded, knowing the technician was aware of what he wanted to know.
"The tests will be done as quickly as possible, but the one indicating if we're dealing with Pneumonic Plague will still take several hours. We'll keep you both comfortable until we know. I'm sure they'll start Agent DiNozzo on some intravenous antibiotics as soon as the X-rays are completed," he said.
"NCIS Medical Examiner, Dr. Donald Mallard was supposed to meet us here. Where is he?" Gibbs asked.
"Yes, he's here. He alerted us to the potential contamination. Once we're finished with all our precautions, you'll be able to speak with him," the technician said.
"You seem very well informed for a lab tech," Gibbs said suspiciously.
"I'm Lieutenant Sam Caldor. I'm a Research Scientist in the Infectious Diseases Unit of our Epidemiology Department," he said. "We're following SOP, and intimidating my people isn't going to change that, Agent Gibbs. I was here a few weeks ago, so I'm familiar with Agent DiNozzo's case. You're going to have to trust us to do our jobs now."
Gibbs didn't like it, but he couldn't argue. He'd always preferred action over inertia. He detested waiting around and letting others do what needed to be done, but he had no medical background. Last time, he could hunt down the person responsible, but now… There was no suspect. The woman who'd orchestrated the entire thing was still under lock and key, lost in her own mind and succumbing to an inoperable brain tumor.
The only thing he could do now was wait.
No, that wasn't the only thing. He could support his agent, who remained in grave danger. Previously, Kate had been the one to stay with him and keep him fighting. She'd been a better choice for that job. She was tough, but also had a softer side.
Gibbs' soft side was rough as hell. Still, he'd admit – if only to himself – that he did have a soft spot somewhere in his safeguarded heart that DiNozzo had managed to breach – even if he was determined not to let the younger man get too confident about it. He reckoned now wasn't the time to play aloof. DiNozzo was facing the potential of fighting this monster again, and Gibbs wanted to be sure he knew that he wasn't doing it alone.
He could hear DiNozzo's wracking coughs coming from the closed door of the adjoining room and his gut clenched.
"We'll take care of him, Agent Gibbs," Caldor said, staring at his computer screen. "Dr. Byun has confirmed a trace of Cyanosis on his lips and fingertips, and his pulse oximeter level is down to ninety. We'd have admitted him, anyway. I'm sure the doctor will have him on an IV drip before they come out."
Gibbs recognized that Caldor was trying to offer him comfort. He would've been amused if he wasn't so tense. "Will it help?" he asked.
"It can't hurt. Antibiotics can treat the symptoms, and its most likely pneumonia that's making a comeback," Caldor said. "Pneumonia can be treated very successfully with antibiotics."
"Pneumonia might not be as scary as plague, but it can still be deadly. DiNozzo has already battled through it once," Gibbs said.
"True, but the antibiotics were useless the last time. This time, they might be effective against a relapse. We won't know until we get the blood tests back," Caldor said.
The door to the adjoining room opened, and Dr. Byun led a worse-for-wear looking DiNozzo out. He was dragging an Intravenous pole that held two bags. A long tube snaked down the pole and into the back of DiNozzo's hand. He looked miserable.
"If you'll both follow me," Dr. Byun said, sounding rather impatient.
Gibbs could only imagine what DiNozzo had done to wear on the man's patience. He had a lot of experience with how annoying his agent could be if he really put his mind to it.
Dr. Byun led them outside the small testing room and through a double door into the same isolation chamber that DiNozzo had stayed the last time. The doors closed behind them, and Dr. Byun continued forward into the sliding air locked glass doors. DiNozzo however, had stopped sharply, staring into the clear room with horror in his eyes. He began shaking his head, backing away.
Gibbs caught him by the arm, trying both to stop his flight and offer some comfort. He knew he was rubbish at comfort, and Tony didn't even seem to register the hand on his arm.
"I don't think I can do this again, Boss," he whispered, his voice strained.
"Yes. You can. You're the strongest person I know," Gibbs said, and it was true. The kid had impressed him more than once with his inner reserve.
Tony turned, startled, looking at Gibbs with wide, astonished eyes as if he could see if Gibbs was having him on just to get him through the negative-pressure doors.
Did he really expect to be shot down with a snarky response at this moment? Really? Had the whole ordeal with Ari strained their bond that far?
"You can do this," Gibbs repeated solemnly. "I'm going to be beside you the whole time. I've got your six, DiNozzo."
Tony nodded, swallowing visibly before dragging his reluctant feet toward the sliding doors. They closed behind them with an ominous whoosh.
Author's Note:
Melinda's NCIS rule #1 – Review
Not a lot of feedback last chapter, so I'm not sure if I've jumped the shark. Would love to know what you're thinking…