Author's note: Really sorry for the long delay again! RL excuses I'm afraid, exam marking and reports season! Things are easing off now though so the updates should go back to being more regular. As ever I would really like to know what you think and many many thanks to those who've taken the time and trouble to comment. It means a lot thanks-J
Chapter 7:-Punishing thoughts.
"Abby" Gibbs spoke as he entered the lab, his presence, as ever sweeping in before him. "Have you heard anything from Kate?"
"She's not with you?" Abby asked redundantly, looking up from the microscope, and forgetting for the moment the fibre specimen she had been keeping herself busy by examining.
Gibbs gave her his best version of a pained expression.
"No because if she was you wouldn't be asking me if she'd called," Abby verbalised the thought process as she allowed her brain to catch up.
Gibbs let out a small exasperated sigh. "We left her at the hospital to keep us updated on Tony."
Abby didn't miss the significance of Gibbs using Tony's first name. She stared for a moment. "So wouldn't she call you. . ." her voice momentarily trailed off as Gibbs dropped the shattered remains of his cell onto the desk in front of her. ". . .first." The sentence completed despite the obvious redundancy, as her mind rapidly processed the chances of retrieving the SIM card and any data from the shattered remains. "Oh!" seemed the only appropriate phrase. She looked up the gleam of curiosity in her eye. "What happened?"
"That would be one too many calls about the Volkswagen Beetle that Gibbs isn't selling." Ducky supplied from behind. Unlike Gibbs Ducky could enter a room without announcing his presence so Abby wasn't sure how closely the pathologist had been following.
Gibbs expression remained neutral. "A problem that McGee was supposed to be sorting out for me." He raised his voice slightly. "McGee?"
McGee hurriedly appeared from behind the bank of computers. "Er. ..Yes boss?"
"How's that going?" he asked.
"That?. . What?" For an incredibly intelligent man it sometimes took McGee a remarkable amount of time to process what he was being asked. He seemed to study Gibbs expression, before glancing down at the shattered remains of the phone as his mind caught up with processing the last minute of conversation "Oh the er. . .just a moment," he stated disappearing back behind the bank of computers. "OK this cell phone is on a new number," he spoke rapidly as he walked. "I've updated the department database and informed everyone who needs to know." The words flowed out nervously, so that he reached the end of the sentence at the same point that he arrived in front of Gibbs proffering the new cell in front of him. "I've also copied across your address book and changed the ring to the one that you prefer." He only looked up to meet Gibbs' gaze when he had finished. He waited for a reaction.
Gibbs, as ever, made him wait, his expression neutral. It was a few seconds before he reached out to accept the phone. "Kate?" he asked.
"Still speed dial 4," McGee stated, rapidly, his head jerking forward slightly in his customary display of nerves when faced with Gibbs scrutiny, "but she may have it turned off. I put the hospital number into your contacts, just in case."
There was a still silence; the atmosphere in the room prickled with expectation as everyone waited to see how Gibbs' would react.
Gibbs nodded, breaking the mood instantly as he turned to hand the phone to Abby. "Call the hospital, see if you can find anything out." He looked back at McGee. "McGee, find out where we're up to with cataloguing the retrieved antiquities and then do what you can to help." There was a momentary pause as he directed his attention to the pathologist. "Ducky. . ."
"Yes, Jethro I have two autopsies to complete." Ducky stated, letting out a short sigh. "You're right of course," he exhaled deeply through his nose and gave a slight nod, as he gave voice to Gibbs' intentions, "we should all try to keep ourselves busy." He began to move away, turning to walk backwards as he spoke. "You will of course keep me up to date on young Anthony's condition?"
Abby paused from the task of dialling. "As soon as we know anything you will," she stated with her customary rising inflection.
Gibbs nodded curtly. "OK, we've all got work to do." He began to walk away. Again the contrast between Ducky and himself emphasised, as he did not turn to make his parting comment. "If anyone needs me I'll be in MTAC."
Abby made a thumbs up sign to Gibbs' retreating back, acknowledging the pointlessness of the gesture even as she did it. Then again, with Gibbs you never knew, sometimes she was convinced that he really did have eyes in the back of his head. Her expression changed as the line connected. "Hello, yes I'm ringing on behalf of NCIS, about the condition of one of our agents. . ."
McGee stared at Abby for a moment, amazed at the switch; she sounded like a receptionist or PA as she spoke in her best telephone voice. Telephone. . . the thoughts connected as he stared at Gibbs' new cell phone which Abby was currently using. How did Gibbs' do that? How did he make you want his approval so much? How did he get away with not giving you any, and have you focussed on the next assignment so quickly that you almost forgot that you needed it? He dismissed the questions as rhetorical; it was not something he was ever going to be able to work out. It was the indefinable quality that made Gibbs such a good leader.
His mind switched to more important considerations; Had Gibbs approved of his actions? Would he have approved if he hadn't smashed his cell into little pieces? He hadn't said anything bad; he had accepted the phone and moved on. It took only a moment to process those facts into Gibbs' version of approval, because if Gibbs didn't approve then you'd know about it. In fact no reaction was pretty much praise. He rarely said anything complementary which gave it all the more meaning when he did, because, of course, gaining Gibbs approval was somehow important, and there he was back at the beginning; How did he do that?
His attention was pulled back to Abby as she flipped the phone shut, her brow creased with a very unAbby like expression.
"Bad news," he asked his own gut tightening in concern, it certainly didn't look like good news.
Abby was subdued, her tone lacking its usual inflection. "He's out of surgery but they still have his condition listed as critical. They wouldn't give me any more details because I'm not a relative, but the nurse said all they could do now was wait."
McGee nodded, that was something they were getting plenty of practice at.
NCISNCIS
Gibbs stepped barely into the elevator so that he could feel the doors closing behind him. He needed to feel the shut off from the world, the metal sealing his isolation. Alone for the first time since they had learned that Tony was chained to a killer, he sagged back for a moment against the cool metal, but he knew that he couldn't afford to stay there, couldn't afford to let people see. . . . He stepped forward, hitting the button that would stop the cube of metal in limbo between the floors. The perfect metaphor for where he normally kept his feelings, trapped, suspended in a place where they were sealed off from the outside. It was a strategy that normally served him well. Feelings, emotion could get in the way, stop you from getting the job done, and the bottom line for him was always the job, stopping the terror, solving the crime, seeing that justice was served, whatever the assignment, whatever the cost, the bottom line was completing it successfully.
So he should be pleased, shouldn't he? They had recovered all of the antiquities, arrested the buyer and both the perpetrators were dead, a perfect conclusion, they had even saved the taxpayer the cost of a trial. Jeffrey White had turned out to be a cold blooded killer, had even killed his own partner, he deserved to die. So case closed, success all round, time to gather the team and celebrate. Except this time the bottom line didn't seem like quite enough and if Dinozzo died. . . . .
He closed his eyes and let the emotion briefly to the surface. His knuckles clenched white as he dealt with the gut twisting pain of nearly losing someone he cared about.
Not that he would ever let Dinozzo know that he cared. It was a dangerous thing to admit even to yourself given the risks of his chosen profession, given the fact that he had the responsibility of sending his team into life threatening situations. Letting yourself care just wasn't sensible, wasn't efficient, and for someone like him, who had a reputation for being a bastard, it just shouldn't happen.
It shouldn't happen.
He shouldn't care.
At least not this much, indifference should rule, he was just doing his job. Tony knew the risks, accepted the risks, but the image that flashed into his mind didn't seem like an acceptable risk. Tony was lying on his back in the mud with his throat slit clean through to his spine; open empty eyes gazed at the sky. Gibbs squeezed his own eyes shut, forcing the face to morph back from Tony's to that of Lane, forcing his suddenly panicked breathing to slow. It wasn't Tony, not Tony, Tony had survived.
A brief calm settled, the beads of sweat on his forehead suddenly feeling cold, but his mind refused to give in, refused to stop punishing him. The image switched to the blood-splattered car, to the streaming blood from Tony's very real neck wound. To the reality of leaving him sitting there bleeding because something about the look in his eye had frightened him, and Gibbs wasn't used to being frightened.
'Dammit,' he slammed his fist into the plate that made up part of the elevator wall, leaving a satisfying dent in the thin metal. He just wanted Dinozzo back. His team together again so they could get back to what passed for normal, and there lay the crux of what was really bothering him, of what was forcing such uncharacteristic emotion out to the surface, the real reason he had been scared by Tony's reactions, the haunted look in Tony's eyes, because even if Tony survived physically, he could still be broken, and Gibbs wasn't sure that they'd ever get all of Tony back again.
TO BE CONTINUED. . .