Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and this story is not intended as an infringement of copyright. It has been written solely for entertainment and no profit has been made from its creation.
BLINDSIDED
Chapter Four
Gibbs held the door open, allowing Tony's wheelchair to be pushed back into his room. With a succinct "I got him," he displaced the orderly and assisted the exhausted younger man back into the bed.
Tony's head was pounding mercilessly and he was nauseas and disillusioned. Over two hours of extensive testing by the most sophisticated ophthalmology equipment in DC, had confirmed the results of last night's preliminary findings. Despite his loss of vision – Tony's eyes were functioning perfectly
Tony was given a few hours to rest in his room before the scheduled neurological tests and, as he sank deeply into the pillows, his muted hopelessness was obvious in every line of his slumped body.
The door closed behind the orderly with a faint click, causing Tony to sit bolt upright. His unseeing eyes were wide with panic as he nearly pitched headlong to the floor.
"Boss, Boss!" he shouted.
Gibbs moved quickly, grasping his agent around the shoulders and supporting him back against the bed head.
"Easy, Tony," he said calmly. "The orderly left, I'm still here."
His heart was hammering as he fought to regain control of his breathing. He blinked furiously, fighting against a rush of nausea as his stomach felt ready to rebel again at any moment. Tony turned his face away from Gibbs – mortified by his irrational need to have his boss close by.
Gibbs dragged the visitor's chair closer to the bed, keeping a light hold on Tony's wrist.
"You need anything?" Gibbs asked evenly.
Tony shook his head slowly.
"Have some water," Gibbs instructed, turning to the bedside table to fill a cup from the pitcher.
Placing a straw in the cup, Gibbs raised it until the straw was within reach of Tony's mouth.
"Drink," Gibbs said.
Embarrassed by his boss's ministrations, Tony reached quickly for the cup. His uncoordinated movement knocked the receptacle from Gibbs's grasp and sent it bouncing end over end to the floor, spilling the contents.
"My fault," Gibbs said, reaching for a nearby towel to clean up the spill. "Should've put the cup in your hand. I'll get you another."
"No!" Tony said sharply.
"Tony…"
"I don't want the damn drink!" Tony shouted.
The heat in his words matched the anguish in his eyes and he suddenly understood that even the most basic activity now presented a major challenge - he had not only lost his sight but also his independence. The realisation tore at his composure and crashed over him like a tsunami.
"DiNozzo…" Gibbs spoke softly, disturbed by the myriad of emotions that reflected in the sightless green eyes.
"I'm tired, Boss," Tony said roughly as he manoeuvred himself lower into the bed and drew up the covers.
"Get some rest," Gibbs said quietly, using the remote to lower the head of the bed. "I'll be here."
When the former Marine repositioned his hand on the younger man's wrist, he fully expected Tony to reject the contact. But his warm, callused fingers provided a lifeline as his agent battled to accept the devastating prospect of being forever without sight.
The healing sleep Gibbs had hoped for his agent was anything but peaceful. For the next two hours, the younger man frowned, mumbled unintelligibly and moved restlessly beneath the covers. He watched, frustrated and helpless, as Tony was trapped in his own private hell.
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The trip from the hospital had been completed, for the most part, in an awkward silence. After a few aborted attempts at small talk and several furtive glances at his subdued passenger, Jimmy realised Ziva was not in a talkative mood.
Palmer parked his car at the front of the modern apartment building and quickly rounded the vehicle to open the passenger door. With a supportive hand on her elbow, he assisted Ziva to the sidewalk and reached back into the car to retrieve her overnight bag and a small brown bag containing her medication. As he started for the lobby of the apartment block, she pulled away from his grip.
"Thank you for the ride, Palmer," she said quietly. "But I am quite capable of getting home from here."
"Oh, I know that," Palmer said cheerfully. "But my mother raised me to always walk a lady to her door."
He took her arm once again and escorted her into the elevator then exited on her floor. Taking her keys, Jimmy opened the door to her apartment and guided her inside. Her pale complexion and the way she carefully cradled her arm, left him in no doubt that she was overdue for her pain medication.
Leaving her overnight bag by the bedroom door, he read the label on the bottle of painkillers and walked toward the kitchen.
"You need to eat something before you take these pills, Ziva," Jimmy said, in full medical student mode. "Why don't I make you a cup of tea and some toast while you slip into something a little more comfortable."
Immediately realising the faux-pas, he felt the heat of a blush colour his face, as Ziva raised an eyebrow and showed the first hint of a smile he had seen from her.
"I didn't mean…I just meant…you might feel more comfortable if you take your clothes off."
Two words flashed through Palmer's mind – 'Mossad assassin.'
"Oh God, Ziva, I really didn't mean…"
"It is fine, Jimmy," she said flatly, "I know what you meant."
Ziva walked towards her bedroom to get changed, still cradling her broken arm as Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief.
"If you need a hand, just call," he said innocently then blushed brightly again and dropped his head into his hands at his repeated transgression. 'Real smooth, Palmer,' he thought ruefully.
"I am sure I will manage," Ziva said quietly. "The tea caddy is in the cupboard over the sink."
By the time Ziva had changed into a pair of sweats and an overly large t-shirt, Jimmy had placed the tea and toast on the coffee table and was tinkering with the keys of her piano.
"Needs tuning again," he said. "Have you been playing much?"
"I have not had the time."
She sipped her tea, studying him over the rim of her teacup and finally asked the question that had been on her mind all morning.
"Jimmy, why are you here with me?" she asked flatly. "After what happened to Tony, I thought you might…"
"Blame you?" Jimmy finished.
She nodded tensely and averted her eyes.
"What purpose would that serve? Tony would still be injured and you would feel worse than you do now."
"That is not possible," she whispered.
"You think the others blame you?"
"McGee and Abby could not bare to look in my direction, Ducky would not let me see Tony and I do not even want to think about Gibbs at the moment."
"Then don't!" Jimmy said, his worry for his friend resulting in a rare short-tempered tone. "This isn't about Agent Gibbs, it isn't about blame, it isn't about McGee or Abby and it's not about you, Ziva. This is about Tony - he's the one that needs our support right now."
"Then why did Ducky prevent me from seeing him?" Ziva asked defensively.
"Nobody but Dr Mallard and Agent Gibbs has seen Tony. We all want to but until Tony's ready, it really shouldn't matter what we want!"
Jimmy checked his watch and stood up. "I need to go to work," he said sharply. "Don't forget to take your meds."
When Ziva's only response was to avert her gaze, Jimmy huffed a sigh of frustration and headed for the door. As he started to close it behind him, he heard Ziva call his name and he looked in her direction.
"Thank you," she said quietly, then turned her back and allowed him to leave before he saw the naked emotion on her face.
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Tony woke to darkness again but the large hand, resting gently on his shoulder, grounded him enough to suppress the panic that gripped him.
"Is it time?" he asked sleepily.
"Five more minutes," Gibbs told him. "Ducky will be here when it's time."
"I need to hit the head," Tony whispered awkwardly.
Gibbs moved the rollaway table and visitor's chair to clear a passage while Tony moved himself into a seated position, his long legs hanging over the side of the bed.
"You ready?" Gibbs asked, watching as Tony replied with an abashed nod.
Placing a supportive arm behind Tony's back and taking slow and cautious steps, Gibbs guided him safely to the adjoining bathroom.
"The head's three feet away at your nine o'clock, the sink's two feet away at your twelve o'clock," Gibbs told him. "Cold water faucet is on the right."
Gibbs hovered until he was certain Tony wasn't going to fall on his ass then closed the door and left him to attend to his business in private.
He took a seat on the bed to wait for Tony just as Ducky arrived with a wheelchair. The ME raised an eyebrow at the empty bed and Gibbs nodded toward the bathroom.
"How is he?" Ducky asked softly.
"Struggling. Coping one minute, devastated the next," Gibbs replied.
"That's a perfectly understandable reaction, Jethro," Ducky assured.
"I know."
"It's never easy watching someone you care for suffer through something of this magnitude."
"I don't know how to help him, Duck?"
"You already are, Jethro, you already are."
The door to the bathroom opened and Tony tentatively felt his way through.
"Boss?"
"Here, Tony," he said, falling in at Tony's side. "Ducky's here."
"Your chariot awaits, my boy!" Ducky said with a forced cheerfulness as he took Tony's other side and guided him into the wheelchair then off for more tests.
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McGee entered the strangely quiet lab with a Caf-Pow in one hand and a bag of sandwiches in the other. Noting the main lab was empty he entered the smaller office area and found Abby sitting at her desk, staring at her cell. She turned quickly hearing his approach.
"Have you heard anything?" they said simultaneously.
"No. You?" they both replied.
"I was hoping you had," they spoke together. "Stop speaking when I'm speaking!"
"What?" they asked at the same time.
Rolling his eyes heavenward, McGee placed the Caf-Pow on Abby's desk and his index finger to her lips to quiet her.
"No…I haven't heard from them either but that's not necessarily a bad thing. Palmer said the tests Tony is having can take hours," McGee replied. "You should eat something, Abs, I brought you some lunch."
"I hate waiting," Abby said reaching for her Caf-Pow. "I hate not knowing what's going on and not being there with Tony."
"Ducky said that he'd let us know as soon as they had the results and as soon as Tony was ready for visitors."
"But we're not visitors, Timmy, we're family! We should be with him!"
"I know, Abs," he said placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I spoke to the director. As I'm currently a team of one, I'll be assisting the other teams with the IT side of their investigations. So the down side is that I'm pretty well deskbound but the upside is – I get to have lunch with you."
"Yay!" Abby said forcing a smile.
"I left Ziva a message but she hasn't returned my call." McGee said. "Have you heard from her?"
"No!" Abby replied curtly.
"This wasn't her fault, Abs, she didn't mean for Tony to get hurt."
"Then why did she have to go back inside the house? You said that Tony specifically ordered everyone out of the house – why did she go back in?"
"I don't know, Abs," he replied. "Guess we'll just have to ask her."
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In the waiting room of the Imaging Department, Gibbs paced the floor like a caged lion.
"What's taking so long," he growled. "They said 90 minutes and it's already been over two hours!"
"Really, Jethro, do try to relax," Ducky scolded, the pacing wearing on his last nerve. "MRI's and CT scans are very intricate procedures - the slightest movement can ruin the images. Rest assured that Anthony is receiving the best care possible."
The words had scarcely left Ducky's mouth when Bethesda's Chief Neurologist, Doctor Nathan Colby, and a nurse rushed through the waiting room, swiped a security card through the reading device and disappeared through the door to the Imaging area. Gibbs leapt to his feet when Tony's panicked shouts perforated the quiet of the waiting room. He crossed the room in three strides but not before the self-locking door of the Imaging area closed tightly.
"What the hell's happening?" he yelled, slamming a fist on the impermeable door.
"Now, Jethro…"
"Don't tell me to relax, Ducky!"
"What I had intended to say, was that if you insist on breaking your hand on the door, at least you won't have to go far for an x-ray," Ducky replied, receiving an unamused glare in return. "Let them do their jobs, Jethro. I'm sure someone will be out to speak to us as soon as they can."
Gibbs was just about at his wits end. After almost 20 hours at the hospital he was climbing the walls. He carded slightly trembling fingers through his hair in a gesture Ducky recognised as helpless frustration and began to pace again.
"You know, Jethro, with Anthony having his MRI, now would be the perfect time for you to take a real walk and relieve some of that tension," Ducky suggested, receiving his second death glare from his long-time friend. "Or perhaps not."
The security door opened and Doctor Colby stepped into the waiting area.
"Agent Gibbs, Doctor Mallard, I apologise for the delay," he said.
"Doctor, what happened?" Gibbs asked.
"Agent DiNozzo became extremely agitated when we were doing the MRI," the doctor explained. "Gadolinium, the contrast agent we injected, exacerbated the nausea and dizziness he was already experiencing from his concussion. Due to his blindness, when the examination table began to hum and move around, it was quite disorienting and overwhelming."
"And now?"
"Unfortunately, we had to give him a sedative to finish the imaging. He'll be in there for another 15 minutes then we'll take him back to his room to sleep off the rest of the sedative."
"Doctor, when do you expect to have the results of the tests?" Ducky asked.
"They'll be available within the hour - if Tony feels up to it, I can deliver the results then," Doctor Colby replied. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get back to him."
Gibbs and Ducky exchanged a worried glance.
"Perhaps I should call the others. They will want to offer Anthony their support when he gets the news," Ducky said.
Gibbs shook his head.
"If I know DiNozzo, last thing he'll want is a room full of people."
Ducky sighed heavily and rested his hand on Gibbs' shoulder.
"Come, my friend, we have just enough time to take that walk and grab a bite to eat before Anthony receives the results of his tests. I have a feeling that this will be another long night."
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