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 Nine
"You wanted to see me, Director?"
"Yes, Gibbs, take a seat," Vance replied, noting the tiredness etched into the lead agent's face. "I hear we got a conviction in the Turner case. Job well done."
Gibbs nodded in reply.
"I also heard that Turner's father caused a scene - threatening the life of an agent is a federal offence. You want him charged?"
Gibbs shook his head. "Was a heat of the moment thing – he was just letting off steam."
Vance nodded abruptly and changed the subject.
"I spoke to DiNozzo's specialist, yesterday but how do you think he's doing?" the director asked.
"Not great. Up one minute, down the next. Doc might let him home later today."
"It's a tough break, more so since they can't give him an accurate prognosis," Vance continued. "Doctor Colby said DiNozzo's refusing to attend the reorientation centre."
"He's convinced his loss of sight is a short term thing. Wants to go home to his own apartment – I can't say that I blame him."
"Not very practical."
"It's all he's got at the moment, Leon!" Gibbs replied sharply. "The way he sees it, his whole life has been snatched away."
"His life's not gone, Gibbs - it's just gonna be a hell of a lot different."
"Try telling him that."
"From what Colby tells me, a vacancy at the centre won't become available for four weeks?"
Gibbs nodded in confirmation.
"The agency is willing to arrange some part-time, home-based rehabilitation but it will be a short term thing – a few weeks at most but it will tide him over until he enters the reorientation centre," Vance said, leaning forward in his chair. "In the meantime, we need to discuss his employment situation."
Gibbs felt his gut tighten and he folded his arms defensively across his chest.
"Obviously, DiNozzo's going to need someone with him around the clock, to help him adjust," Vance said. "I know you want that to be you but I can't spare you both long term. I can give you two weeks full time leave and two weeks on half days but after that, DiNozzo's either going to have to attend the reorientation centre or you'll have to make alternate arrangements."
"Understood," Gibbs said, grateful for the understanding. "You given any thought to Tony's future with the agency?"
"DiNozzo is physically unable to perform his assigned duties as a field agent. However, as his employer, NCIS has an obligation under the Americans with Disabilities Act to re-train and place him in an alternate position within the agency."
"Such as?"
"Initially, I thought about a position in Personnel but realised the tedium, and an hour with Dolores Bromstead, would drive him around the twist. Not to mention the chaos to be had by throwing a seemingly vulnerable DiNozzo into a department filled with doting women!"
Gibbs allowed a small grin at the image. "What else?"
"Well, with re-training, we could arrange a position as an MTAC officer or a sound tech but it would be a pity to lose his investigative skills," Vance explained. "I was thinking of a position as a foreign analyst. He'd work from here, most of the contact he would have with informants or other agencies would be by phone; computer or satellite – he'd be responsible for analysing intel and performing threat assessments. It's a challenging role for a visually impaired person but I believe he's up to it. What do you think?"
"Not my decision,"
"Didn't offer you the job, Gibbs, I'm asking what you think?"
"I'd rather him back on my team but if that can't happen – foreign analyst is a good fit," Gibbs said.
"There's a stipulation," Vance said.
"Isn't there always?"
"We'll hold the position available for him if he's interested but DiNozzo must enter and complete the courses at the reorientation centre – that's not negotiable. I won't take a chance with his safety - he needs to be able to navigate the office without endangering himself," Vance said. "I have our OS&H people looking into assisted technology - computer screen readers, Braille translation devices, software packages that transfer voice to text and text to voice and so on."
Gibbs raised a quizzical eyebrow and a small smile appeared on the director's usually implacable face.
"Okay, so I did a little research," Vance said. "The point is that none of it is going to happen unless DiNozzo completes the reorientation course. We're more than happy to support him in whatever he needs – but he has to be willing to help himself."
"Fair enough," Gibbs replied with a curt nod, not looking forward to that particular conversation with one very stubborn senior field agent.
"You headed back to the hospital?" the director asked.
"On my way now," Gibbs answered.
"DiNozzo was injured on the job - let me know if he needs anything and I'll arrange it."
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Tony shifted irritably in his bed, his muscles were taut and his nerves were fraying by the second as he waited for Doctor Colby to arrive with his test results. He flipped the crystal of his watch and checked the time – only five minutes had passed since he'd last checked and he huffed, yet another, loud impatient sigh.
"Ducky, are you sure my watch is working?" he asked for the second time.
The elderly ME tamped down his own irritation, keeping his tone gentle and patient.
"Anthony, I checked it for you only moments ago. It's quite a good brand and it keeps very good time," Ducky said. "I know you're anxious to have the test results so you can go home – but perhaps it would take your mind off things while we wait, if you assisted me with my crossword?"
Tony grimaced. "Not really my forte, Ducky, you need McGeek for that."
"At least it will keep your mind occupied, my boy. Ah, here's one - usually a sweet course or dish?"
"Dessert," Tony answered.
"Well done, Anthony!" Ducky replied, jotting down the answer and moving on to the next clue. "What about - a four letter word for a small, bloodsucking insect? "
"Flea."
"Oh, I must say…I think you have a knack for this! Here's another clue – a departure from reality?"
"Escape."
"Excellent, my boy, we'll have this finished in no time! How about - collective foliage?"
"Leaves."
"Wonderful, oh here's one…."
"No more, Ducky, please…you're killing me here!"
"But you were doing so well, Anthony, and you must admit it was a welcome distraction from worrying about whether you will be permitted to leave the hospital."
"Not with answers like dessert, flea, escape and leaves!" Tony replied. "It's like, death by crossword puzzle!"
"Oh my, I see what you mean…what an uncanny coincidence!" Ducky exclaimed.
"Wonderful," Tony muttered.
With a sigh to match Tony's, Ducky folded the newspaper, capped the pen and placed it into his shirt pocket. He knew Tony well enough to know that the patience train had left the station, was picking up speed and about to derail.
"Okay, young man, out with it!" he said, looking for another way to distract the anxious agent.
"Out with what?" Tony replied.
"Out with whatever it is that has got you - to use your vernacular - going postal!"
"I just want to go home, Ducky, I've been here for days! All I do is take pills and sleep and I can do that in my own bed!"
"Let's just wait and see what the good doctor has to say, hmmm?" Ducky said calmly.
"Then where is everyone?" Tony ranted. "Where's Colby and where's Gibbs? They said they'd be here to give me the results, so where are they? Maybe they forgot…or there was some kind of emergency and they're not coming and no one bothered to let us know! I'm telling ya, Ducky, they're not coming!"
"Who's not coming?" Gibbs said walking through the door into Tony's room. "That you making that noise, DiNozzo? I can hear you down the hall!"
"It's about time, Boss!" Tony complained. "Ducky had already given up on you."
"That so, Duck?" Gibbs asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
Ducky's protest was lost among his spurts and splutters until he noticed Gibbs' knowing grin.
"We're still waiting for the damn doctor, Boss!"
"Well you're in luck – the damn doctor is here!" Colby said with an amused chuckle.
"Sorry, Doc," Tony muttered with a grimace.
"Why do I get the feeling that if I took your blood pressure right now, I'd be tearing up these discharge papers I have in my hand?" the doctor asked.
Tony's head shot up. "I can go home?"
"Maybe. Let's talk about the test results first," Colby said. "Despite the regime of strong anti-inflammatory meds we've had you on, there is no discernable reduction in the swelling around your occipital cortex."
"It's only been a few days though, right, Doc, the swelling might take a little longer to go down," Tony said, ever-hopeful.
"It might, Tony, but with injuries of this kind, if your sight is going to return sooner rather than later, we can usually see some kind of reduction in the swelling by now."
Tony's gasp was audible as the news struck him like a blow to the gut.
The doctor raised his ophthalmoscope and flicked on the tiny light.
"I want to have a quick look in your eyes, Tony, can you look straight ahead for me? Good, now to the right? And now the left? Okay, you can relax now," Colby said and Tony almost laughed at his choice of words. "How are the headaches?"
"Not as constant," Tony replied softly.
"But still pretty brutal, I'm guessing."
Tony nodded slowly, still processing the doctor's earlier words.
"If I discharge you, do you have someone who can stay with you?"
When Tony didn't answer, Gibbs spoke up. "I'll be staying with him."
"All due respect, Agent Gibbs, I think you're going to need some professional help."
"The agency is sending someone to do some home-based training a few hours a week, starting tomorrow," Gibbs said.
"That's certainly a start, but it's nowhere near enough. Tony is going to need full-time care until he learns to adapt to his blindness and is capable of safely fending for himself."
"Or until his sight comes back," Gibbs stressed; needing Tony to hear that he wasn't alone in thinking that his blindness was temporary.
The look on the faces of the two doctors told Gibbs that they did not agree.
"We'll need him back here twice a week for scans while we continue to monitor his condition and his medication. You will need to ensure…"
"Doc," Gibbs interrupted. "He can hear you, talk to Tony."
The doctor looked flustered. "Of course, I apologise. I had the hospital pharmacy prepare your meds and place them in three different shaped bottles. The pills themselves are also different shapes to avoid taking the wrong meds. We'll see you twice a week for scans and check-ups and I want you back here immediately if the headaches increase in frequency or intensity. Understood?"
Tony sat in shocked silence, though his sightless eyes were speaking volumes.
"Tony?"
"What? Er…yeah…understood," Tony replied, looking pale and rattled.
"Tony, I know this is extremely distressing but…"
As the doctor continued with his comforting words about time and patience, Gibbs could tell by the look on his agent's face, that Tony had stopped listening.
"When can I take him home?" Gibbs asked, wanting to get Tony the hell out of there.
"As soon as he's dressed," Colby said. "Agent Gibbs, would you stop by the nurse's station on your way out and collect Tony's meds?"
Gibbs nodded and offered his hand to the doctor.
"See you in a few days, Tony," the doctor said, giving Gibbs a sad smile when Tony didn't respond.
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Palmer walked into the lab and found McGee and Abby in earnest conversation.
"Hey!" he said in greeting. "Any news about when Tony's coming home?"
"Gibbs just called," Abby said, beaming brighter than a second sun. "They're signing Tony's discharge papers now!"
"That's great!" Jimmy enthused. "Did he say when we could see him?"
"Let's give him time to settle in before we converge on him," McGee said. "Hey, doesn't Tony have a birthday coming up?"
"Oh my God, July 8, you're right, Timmy!" Abby said. "This is great, we can have a party and show him how much we love him."
"Remember, Abs, Ducky said not to overwhelm him," McGee said.
"Maybe a party might be a little over the top, given the circumstances," Palmer agreed.
"Et tu, Jimmy?" Abby pouted. "I wasn't thinking of a party party with loud music, loads of alcohol and naked dancing…"
"Wait…you have naked dancing at your parties?" Jimmy asked.
"You don't?" Abby replied with surprise. "Anyway, I was thinking more of a dinner party with Tony's favourite foods, followed by cake and some gifts. We still have a few days to organise it!"
"So…no naked dancing?" Jimmy said with more than a little disappointment.
"It's a nice idea, Abs," McGee said, hoping to get Palmer's mind back on track. "I'll check with the Boss and Ducky, make sure they think Tony's up to it. What about Ziva, we should invite her."
"No!" Abby said, emphatically.
"Come on, Abs, she's still part of the team," McGee replied.
"Is she? Then where has she been while Tony's been in the hospital? She hasn't even been to see him!"
"That's a little harsh, Abs, Ziva was injured, too, and she didn't mean for Tony to get hurt."
"Then why doesn't she tell him that, McGee? I always thought Ziva was the strongest, most courageous woman I'd ever met but until she has the courage to face Tony, I don't want to talk to her."
"I agree - it might be a little awkward to invite her before she's had a chance to speak with Tony. Although, it would have been particularly nice to have her there for the naked dancing." Jimmy said with a reluctant sigh.
Abby and McGee exchanged and exasperated look before delivering twin head slaps to the young ME.
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With the paperwork completed and the medication collected, Gibbs walked back to Tony's room to collect his charge. He leant against the doorframe watching as Ducky fussed around, packing the few belongings Tony had and chattering non-stop.
His agent was seated on the bed, shoulders slumped, wearing sweats, runners and a t-shirt and looking about as lost and crestfallen as Gibbs had ever seen him. The ashen taint of Tony's skin was stark against the darkness of his heavily stubbled jaw, his normally meticulous coiffure was unkempt and added to his look of complete and utter destitution. Gibbs cleared his throat softly to signal his return and he watched as the younger man snapped his shoulders back and forced his face into a half-grin.
"Got my wheels, Boss?" he asked.
"Nope. The doc thought you might prefer a stroll," Gibbs replied.
"I'm walking?"
"Car's parked out front. You tell me if you need to stop."
"But…how?"
"If you'd allow me, Anthony, I believe I can be of service in this regard," Ducky said.
Explaining the procedure clearly, Ducky instructed Gibbs to go to Tony's position and offer his left arm. Tony then placed his right hand above Gibbs' elbow with his fingers on the inside of the arm and the thumb on the outside. The grip positioned Tony half a pace behind Gibbs, enabling him to detect any changes of Gibbs' body movements like turning left or right.
Tentatively, they left the sanctuary of the room and made they way slowly to the elevator, across the lobby and to the sidewalk. Still following Ducky's instructions Gibbs reached the kerb and said "step down", breathing a sigh of relief when Tony negotiated the step without difficulty. Upon reaching the Charger, Gibbs placed his grip hand on the passenger door handle and indicated which way the car was facing. Tony slid his grip hand down the lead agent's arm and located the handle whilst his other hand located the roof. Tony then opened the door for himself and with Gibbs guiding his head to avoid another concussion; the younger man got into the vehicle, closed the door and fastened his seat belt.
Ducky's exclamation of 'well done, lads' was lost on both men as they sat in the front of the Charger, too relieved to appreciate having mastered the first step in a very long and difficult journey.
As Gibbs started the car and made for the main highway, nobody noticed the man standing across the road, taking more than a passing interest in them.
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