Chapter Nine
Recovery
Tony awoke and groggily looked around the isolation chamber, uncertain what had him feeling so off-kilter. Same hated blue lights. Same glass walls. Gibbs asleep in the bed next to him. He could see Brad, Dr. Byun and Nora looking intently at something on their monitors.
His eyes flew open wide as realization washed over him. He woke up – on his own – without trying to cough up a lung. He tentatively took a breath into his oxygen mask. The pain in his chest was still there, and he didn't know if it was only his imagination, but it felt less like an elephant sitting on him and more like a horse.
He began taking careful stock of the rest of his body. Even though he'd awoken, he still felt more exhausted than he ever had in his life. He'd always been energetic – more so than his parents, his teachers, and a lot of the people around him would've liked – but now, he thought he'd need a nap if he even tried to sit up.
So, no getting rid of the detested catheter quite yet.
It was as he became more alert that he realized he was soaking wet, as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over him while he slept. What the hell? He lifted the hand attached to the IV and felt his pajama top. He wasn't imagining it – he was drenched.
The doctors must've seen his movement because they both came in and walked towards him, awakening Gibbs the moment they passed his bed. He sat up quickly, wide awake and looking for an obvious threat. Years of training didn't relax easily.
"How are you doing, Tony?" Brad asked, smiling.
Tony furrowed his brow, unsure how to answer that – never mind it would mean removing the mask to speak, and he'd promised Gibbs he wouldn't.
"I'm betting you're feeling a little better. Your oxygen levels have risen, and your fever broke overnight," Brad said. "Nora's gone to get you some fresh pajamas."
"What does that mean exactly?" Gibbs asked, his eyes raking over Tony's wet clothing.
"We're going to take some X-rays now that you're awake, and if, as we suspect, your lungs show improvement, we'll switch you from the oxygen mask back to a nasal cannula," Dr. Byun said.
Nora came in pushing a portable X-ray machine with a new pair of folded navy-blue pajamas resting on top.
"Good morning, Tony, Jethro," she said cheerily. "Jethro, why don't you step outside and use the facilities while we set up the X-ray for Tony."
Gibbs looked over at Tony for confirmation that it was okay to leave. Tony gave him a thumbs up. What did he expect? He couldn't stay inside while they took the X-rays. There was really no reason for him to be here at all. Gibbs wasn't sick – he'd been cleared days ago. He was staying so that Tony wouldn't be alone. Tony knew it on a factual level, but he was still baffled as to why. Gibbs was his boss, but this was above and beyond the call of a boss.
That would mean that he had to mean more to his cranky supervisor, right? Were they friends? Tony thought about the relationships Gibbs had with Ducky and even Tobias Fornell. They were Gibbs' friends, but his own relationship with Gibbs didn't fit either of those roles.
They'd just lost Kate, so he could understand Gibbs not wanting to lose another team member, but to stay confined in an isolation ward, watching Tony nearly drown in his own lungs? That didn't fit.
So… why was Gibbs here?
Not that he wasn't grateful. Sometimes during the darkest hours, he thought Gibbs presence was the only thing keeping him alive. He'd been amazingly good to Tony while they'd been locked inside – patient even – which was unprecedented. Tony would've stayed with Gibbs without thought had the situation been reversed. The man meant a great deal to him, and he admired him more than anyone – except maybe James Bond or Magnum. Any person he'd ever actually met, anyway. But why did Gibbs stay with him?
"Okay, Sunshine, I'm just going to get this sticky top off you. It must be uncomfortable," Nora said, undoing the buttons on his pajama top.
Tony grinned as wolfishly as he could with the damn mask covering his face and waggled his eyebrows.
Nora laughed. "Save it for Vivian – your charm doesn't work on me."
Brad assisted Tony into a sitting position while Nora removed the pajama top. He shivered as it was pulled away and goosebumps erupted on his chilled flesh.
"Will get you covered back up in a jiffy as soon as the X-ray is done," Nora said, laying a heavy protective covering over his private parts.
Brad eased him back down, and it was all Tony could do to keep his eyes open. It was beyond ridiculous how tired doing absolutely nothing for himself could make him, and he hated it.
He felt Nora gently pat his arm as he let his eyes shut for just a moment. The next he thing he knew, the weight from the protection shield was removed, and Nora and Brad swiftly and professionally removed the bottoms of his damp pajamas and redressed him in clean, warm ones. He must've dozed off, and they'd completed changing his clothes before he'd even awoken enough to protest.
He really hated this.
Dr. Byun and Gibbs returned, joining the other two gathered around his bed. He looked at them questioningly.
"It's good news, Tony. Your X-rays show some improvement in your lungs, enough that we're going to try and switch you over to the nasal cannula and begin weaning you off the antibiotics. We'll see if you can maintain your improved O2 levels until this evening. I feel it imperative to warn you that if it slides down at all, you'll have to go right back on the mask, okay?" Brad asked.
Tony nodded fervently. He didn't like the cannula either, but at least he could speak without the hassle of the mask.
Brad took the mask off, and Dr. Byun immediately fitted the cannula and restarted his oxygen.
As soon as they pulled back, Tony asked, "When can I go home?"
Dr. Byun and Nora looked startled, Brad rolled his eyes, and Gibbs actually chuckled.
"Now let me be clear, Tony. This time, we're doing things my way. We're not even going to discuss leaving before your O2 levels are well into the nineties, and you've completed the IV antibiotics," Brad said, narrowing his eyes.
"Well, of course you're not ready to go home, Sunshine. You're not even ready to stand up by yourself," Nora said, sounding rather scandalized.
"And when you do leave, you won't be living on your own. Do you really want Gibbs or any of your other co-workers assisting you with going to the head?" Brad asked, smirking.
Gibbs looked as amused as Brad during the entire exchange.
"You need to be realistic. Your body has been through a significant trauma, and it will take time to fully recuperate. I expect you'll find that you'll be unable to stay awake for any significant amount of time for several more days," Dr. Byun said.
"But if all I'm doing is sleeping, then I can do that at home, right? I don't need anyone watching me sleep," Tony said, well aware that he was gasping by the end but he chose to ignore that particular unfortunate detail.
"I don't think you're grasping the significance of your situation. You're out of the woods, but you are not yet healthy," Dr. Byun said.
"Enough," Gibbs said, apparently reaching the end of his limited amount of patience. "I warned you when we came in here that there would be no shortcuts this time. You're staying here until they tell you you're ready to leave. We clear?"
"Clear, Boss," he said sullenly, thinking everyone was overreacting. He might not be ready to leave today, but by tomorrow maybe he could convince them.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Brad ushering a still stunned-looking Dr. Byun and Nora out of the chamber. Sure, leave him alone with an angry Gibbs. Some Hippocratic oath Brad must've taken.
"We're going to do this by the book this time. You can't take another relapse, and quite frankly, I can't either," Gibbs said.
Guilt came washing over Tony like a tidal wave. It was his fault Gibbs was here, and he could've died if it had been a relapse of the plague.
"I'm sorry, Gibbs–"
"Never apologize. Sign of weakness. You know that," Gibbs said.
Tony shrugged as best he could Not an easy task with the heavy weight pressing down on his chest. "Seems appropriate for nearly giving you a fatal disease," he said, feeling his exhaustion creeping up on him again.
"Oh? Did I have a fatal disease? Don't recall that," Gibbs said.
"I'm more than glad you didn't get it. It sucks, but it's my fault there was even a chance. I don't even know why you're still here," Tony said.
"I'm where I needed to be. Thought you'd worked that out by now. You're usually quicker than that," Gibbs said, reaching over and pushing the hair from Tony's face.
Tony looked up, startled. Was that a compliment? For him? What was going on? His eyes were already drooping and he knew he didn't have a lot more time before his body betrayed him to sleep. For some reason, he thought Gibbs looked disappointed. He was simply too tired to work it all out right now.
"Go to sleep, Tony," Gibbs said softly.
"On it, Boss," Tony replied, whispering.
/* /* /* /*
It wasn't until Sunday evening that Gibbs first stepped back inside his house with its unlocked door. By tomorrow morning, he would've been gone a full week. Nothing had changed, but it felt oddly empty to him. He flicked on a few lights and checked to be sure there was nothing growing in his refrigerator. The milk definitely had to go.
Tony's oxygen level had been slowly rising even after they'd switched to the nasal cannula, and the X-rays of his lungs showed continued clearing. The antibiotic-resistant strain of the plague that he'd been infected with had caused the pneumonia he now had to be more stubborn to the healing properties of antibiotics than typical pneumonia. The doctors had seemed to find a combination that was finally getting through, but it was working at a slower pace than the norm.
Gibbs had remained in isolation with him over the weekend, but Tony was asleep far more than he was awake, and Gibbs' restlessness had grown exponentially. After Saturday night had passed without a single choking episode, and Tony had outright told him he could go home, Gibbs decided his usefulness was done.
At least until Tony was ready to come home.
He knew that the young man had probably started a relentless plea to be released as soon as Gibbs had walked out the door, but he was certain Brad wouldn't be swayed until it was safe for him to do so. Once he was allowed to leave, Gibbs had every intention of ensuring Tony had company at all times.
Although he was still coughing up phlegm, it was nothing like those alarming, oxygen-stealing attacks. He was weak as a kitten, but they were actually going to try and get him into a sitting position tomorrow. The more upright he was, the easier it was for his lungs to clear. Gibbs decided it was time to go home. He thought he'd be better off getting some real sleep and his own form of stress-relief before his troublesome agent was ready to come home.
With that thought, he headed right down into his basement, poured himself a double shot of bourbon and swallowed it down. It burned pleasantly, and he sighed at the familiarity. He poured another shot, but placed this one on the work bench to drink at a more leisurely pace. He took a good look around his familiar basement and the skeleton of the boat he'd been working on. He brushed his hand along one of the ribs, pleased with the smoothness. He picked up some sandpaper and began to rub a spot on the stern that still needed work as there was a stubborn knot there. His eye caught the stairs leading up to his kitchen.
Occasionally, if DiNozzo was troubled, whether over a rough case or something more personal in nature, the young man often came over and parked himself on one of the bottom stairs. Gibbs had once handed him some sandpaper and tried to put him to work, but Tony's eyes had widened in panic and he'd backed away, muttering some nonsense about ruining it. He'd left that time without ever getting around to whatever was bothering him, so Gibbs had never asked again.
Gibbs enjoyed the sporadic visits – it broke the monotony, but also because he enjoyed his young agent's company. Gibbs knew he was a loner at heart, even before he'd met Shannon, he was never much of a social creature. His family tragedy had only isolated him further as he pushed everyone away, wrapping himself in his own anger and bitterness. The few people who did manage to get close, he'd always kept at an arm's length – as his three ex-wives would attest. It was lonely and probably unhealthy, but he didn't know how to stop it – it had become instinctual, and he knew it was his fault that those relationships he did attempt had failed.
He again ran his hand over the wood. It looked as if he was finally making some progress on the stubborn knot. He tossed back the shot of whisky still sitting on the work bench.
After three failed marriages, he'd given up on the idea of family… until a young, reckless cop from Baltimore waltzed into his life. Jenny had said his actions toward DiNozzo were almost paternal. He wasn't sure about that. DiNozzo had a father, but he supposed what he felt for his agent did lean toward the parental side. Someone needed to watch out for the young man, because he seemed to walk around with some sort of target attached to his back. He could attract trouble like no one Gibbs had ever come across – except perhaps himself.
There were definite similarities there, despite the vast differences in their personalities. While he tended to avoid people whenever possible, DiNozzo was drawn to them. He thrived when surrounded by others and seemed to feed of their energy. Still, both of them had a strong sense of duty and a desire to help those in need. They always watched out for others, sometimes to their own detriment.
They each answered the same calling. So, naturally they felt protective of the other. They were partners.
Gibbs sanded the wood with more vigor, knowing it was more than that. He'd never been forced to put a name to it, but it was true that he'd grown to care about DiNozzo.
A lot.
And where was his own father? How could he let his son nearly die – twice now – without even checking on him? He supposed that maybe he didn't know about this second time. Gibbs certainly hadn't contacted him. He didn't know any of the specifics of the relationship between his Senior Field Agent and his father, but he knew it was strained. The background check he'd run before hiring DiNozzo had indicated that Tony had been disowned at the tender age of twelve.
He blew the sawdust away from where he was sanding. It still felt a bit rough, but anyone who worked with wood knew knots required a lot of time and patience. He continued pressing forward.
Over the years, Tony had made random cracks about his father – usually during a case – but none of them were warm or in any way endearing. He'd also hinted strongly that both of his parents had issues with alcohol.
When Tony had first become ill with the plague, Kate wanted to call his father and let him know what was going on. Gibbs had told her to leave it alone. Tony had made Gibbs his next of kin on his personnel forms without ever mentioning why he didn't put his father. That was all Gibbs needed to know.
Still, he knew Kate's personality, and he'd bet real money that she hadn't listened to him and contacted the senior DiNozzo on her own. She'd never mentioned it, however, and no one had called, visited, or sent a card as far as he was aware – and he was aware of a lot. He'd been with DiNozzo through the worst of each illness, and DiNozzo had seemed to want him there. He'd never once asked for his own father.
Perhaps Jenny was right, and that pissed him off. Not the idea of having paternal feelings, but that Jenny had seen through him before he'd made the connection himself. There was a time in his life that he'd wanted her to be another Mrs. Gibbs. It hadn't been what she'd wanted, however. She'd left as soon as she'd realized he was growing serious, putting her career above anything else and he'd moved on and met, married, and divorced Stephanie.
He knew his former lover was ambitious, but he'd never thought of her as manipulative. She had an agenda, however. He was sure of it. She wasn't happy to discover his attachment to DiNozzo, and he couldn't work out a reason why. How did it possibly affect her or her career, which she'd said was her main priority?
He'd have to wait and watch. He didn't want to be suspicious of her. He genuinely liked her and refused to believe he could've misjudged her so thoroughly. She claimed to only want his backing against the suits in all the alphabet agencies. That he could provide, but she'd have to understand one thing – he was going to protect his team first.
The knot had finally been smoothed to match the rest of the wood on the plank, and he ran his hand over the leveled surface, satisfied.
/* /* /* /*
Abby worked frantically in her lab. Both Balboa's and Harrington's teams had active cases, and she was swamped, so she didn't have a lot of time to talk with Gibbs or visit Tony. It was making her antsy, and she wished McGee would at least come down and give her an update.
She was worried about Gibbs. He'd been back at work for two days, but he and McGee were still working on cold cases since they were down two team members. Gibbs and Tony had functioned quite well as a two-man team, but she knew McGee wasn't ready for that yet, and apparently, so did Gibbs.
The only one who didn't seem to get it was McGee, who'd been frustrated and rather sulky that the cases kept being given to other teams. He felt it was more proof that Gibbs didn't have any faith in him. Abby didn't think that was the case, at all. He was still just so new that he didn't even realize how much he didn't know. She'd insulted him by trying to point out that fact, which was why he probably hadn't been down for any visits at all today.
Since they weren't working on active cases, Gibbs hadn't been by, either, and she'd had to go up to the bullpen to talk with him. She knew her silver fox wasn't quite himself. He'd never say it, but losing Kate and nearly losing Tony twice had taken a lot out of him. He was usually so determined and self-assured in decision-making, but now, he seemed to be second guessing himself at every turn.
Abby didn't like it, and she didn't like the way the new Director was pressuring him. She kept trying to assign a TAD to their team so they could work active cases, but Gibbs kept refusing.
A TAD could help with the workload, but she knew it was sometimes more of a hassle trying to fit one into a senior position as the learning curve for how each team worked was so extensive. Particularly on Gibbs' team – he didn't tolerate any mistakes.
She knew that Tony was continuing to improve, and Nurse Vivian had even told her that he was starting to climb the walls. She wished she could get there to distract him, but there was just too much work to do. She also knew that Dr. Pitt was holding firm to his decision that Tony wouldn't be doing anything ahead of schedule this time. He'd even informed Gibbs that when Tony eventually did return to work, it would be desk duty only at first. She'd seen the guilt flood Gibbs eyes when that topic had come up, and she knew he'd realized that he shouldn't have allowed Tony to go on the call where the bomb had been hidden in the victims' car.
Although it was probably true, none of them had tried to stop Tony – they'd all just been so happy to have him back. Now that she knew that if he didn't take it slowly enough, it could still result in losing him that Abby was determined to sit on him and hold him down if that's what it took.
And she'd bet Gibbs would sit there with her. No one was taking any chances with Tony's health this time around.
"Abby," McGee said, warily looking around the lab.
"McGee!" she said brightly, dropping the clothing she'd been examining and reaching for him.
He stepped back, but she wasn't certain if it was because she was still wearing the gloves that she'd been examining the clothing with, or if he was still upset with her.
"Gibbs asked me to bring you this," he said stiffly, handing her a Caf-Pow.
So, he was still upset with her, and it looked as if Gibbs knew she was going to try and get him to talk, so he was avoiding her, too. Well, this just sucked. Tony couldn't come home to a dysfunctional family.
"Aww, don't be that way, McGee," she said, pulling off the gloves and taking the Caf-Pow. She sucked down a large slurp through the straw, and turned back to her friend. "Oh, that's good. Thank you, and thank Gibbs for me. I haven't been able to get away."
"Lucky you," he responded, scuffing his toe on the floor.
"It's not lucky. I don't think I'm going to be able to get over and see Tony again tonight. He's going to think I don't care," she said, biting her lip. She hadn't left the lab until well after twenty-three hundred hours the night before, and knew it way to late to visit the hospital.
"Gibbs went," McGee said.
"Good. That'll have made Tony happy. Vivian said he's growing really restless, even though he can't keep himself awake for very long," Abby said.
"Vivian?" McGee asked.
"Tony's nurse, remember her? She looked like Nurse Barbie," Abby said, giggling.
"You've talked to her since?" McGee asked.
"Yeah, all the time. She lets me know how he's doing since she knows I've been so stressed about not getting over there. She's really nice. We're actually going out clubbing next Saturday since she has the night off," Abby said.
She was really excited. She hadn't been in the mood to go out and have some fun since Kate's death, and she thought it was just what she needed. She wasn't certain Vivian would like the same kind of music she did, but maybe they could find some sort of middle ground.
It was nice to have a new friend.
"Have fun," McGee said, turning to leave.
She caught his arm before he could go. "Please don't be upset with me, McGee. I can't stand it right now. Kate's gone, Tony's sick, and now you're drifting away, too."
McGee stopped as she knew he would. He really was a good guy at heart, even if he got a little sulky sometimes. "I'm not drifting, Abby, and Tony will be back before you know it, pulling your pigtails and snooping through my desk," he said.
Abby sighed. "I hope so."
"Me, too," he said, giving her a small hug. "I'm just frustrated. The Director tried to give us a TAD again this morning, and Gibbs wasn't having it."
"I know you want to get back on active cases, McGee, but could you really trust a TAD to have your back once Gibbs goes off on him?" she asked.
McGee frowned. "What do you mean? Gibbs goes off on everybody – except you."
"I know that, and you know that, but think about it from a new person's perspective. It takes a while to get used to Gibbs," she said, hoping he'd catch on to what she was trying to say.
"Abby, I was new just last year, and I got used to it," he said, exasperated.
"You did. What happened the first time?" she asked.
"What?"
"Think back to your first mistake – or the first time Gibbs thought you made a mistake," she said, prompting him.
"Well… he didn't know about the first one, actually. Tony directed him onto another angle before he found out, and Kate helped me get back on track," McGee said.
Abby nodded. "Exactly. Do you think you'll be able to do what both Kate and Tony did for you when the TAD messes up?"
"I don't… know," McGee said, now looking worried.
"Even if he outranks you, you're the one who knows how Gibbs reacts. If Gibbs blows and you can't divert, do you trust a TAD will have his head in the game well enough to cover your six if it all goes to hell?" she asked, hoping it would be enough. She knew Tony often bore the brunt of Gibbs' wrath in order to distract him from the junior agents, but she wasn't quite sure McGee was ready to acknowledge that yet.
McGee left the lab looking as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Author's Note:
Melinda's NCIS Rule Number 1: Review! The author appreciates feedback very much.
Thanks to my lovely pre-reader, SueDucksfoot for always having the time to look over a chapter and share her thoughts with me.