7

Fever

"Please...it hurts...make it stop...please Mom." He was burning up, and it felt like every bone in his body was trying to attack him from the inside; she'd help, his mom always knew what to do. Sure enough he felt her cool hand rest on his.

"Shh...rest easy Tony, give the pills some time to work, you'll feel better soon, I promise."

He found it hard to believe, but his mom wouldn't lie; if only he wasn't so hot. Wait, a walk, if he went outside, the air was cool, he'd feel better, he just had to get outside.

"No Tony, stay still, any time now the pain will go away."

He collapsed back on the pillows, too weak to argue; something blissfully cool was laid across his forehead, oh that felt so good.

He closed his eyes and lay still, Mom was right just like always, the aching wasn't so bad and the bongo drums in his head were quiet at last. Perhaps now he would sleep, if he did he'd feel better, Mom had promised.

For a short time it seemed like his mother had worked her magic again and he was able to sleep, but no sooner had he slipped into unconscious, pain-free oblivion than they came; the women, always it was the women who haunted his dreams, and the one who wanted to be a woman. That was a day deeply engraved on his memory, not because he'd come close to death, but because he'd kissed a man, almost had his tongue inside..."Voss...get away from me." Another shiver went through him, he felt the cool hand once more and let that picture fade.

Sleep...it felt good to sleep, but when he freed his mind, he couldn't stop them, they filled his head and he couldn't turn them away, not even...

"No! Stop!" She was going through the wall, no it was a door, a wall...the picture was so confused, except for one thing, he had to stop her. "Paula!" He reached out for her, if he was just a few seconds faster he'd reach her and hold her tight...but every time, every single time he was too slow and she...she died. Like Kate, no not like Kate, there was nothing he could have done to save her, the shot came out of the blue and in an instant she was gone; he would mourn her loss his whole life, but her death wasn't on his conscience, not like Paula. He was just too damned slow, "Faster, I have to be faster..."

"Whoa Tony, not telling you again, lie still."

He felt strong hands pushing him back on the bed, not Mom..."Dad?"

"That's good, take it easy. Here, drink this, you're still too hot."

He took a few sips before the coughing started again, he was so sick of being sick. "That's okay, you did good, rest now, no more meds for a few hours, sleep Tony, you know you're tired, don't fight it."

"Bad dream Dad...don't want...be alone..."

"I'm not going anywhere."

For once he was sure his dad meant what he said, so many times he'd let him down. "Don't leave me; not like before, promise..."

"Scout's honour Tony, lie back, I'm here as long as you need me."

He believed it, this time he wouldn't be abandoned, left to face life alone...as sleep pulled him under she was there...his ring on her finger, the woman he'd chosen to share his life, and she was telling him..."Please Wendy, you don't mean it...think it through." She removed his ring, handed it to him and his vision of their future together shattered, never to be repaired. Back then he'd wanted so much to be with her, to have a family...he'd longed for a family of his own to replace the broken shell of a relationship he shared, or didn't share with his father. She was going to be his wife, the mother of his children, and she walked away...

There were days, months, when he thought his heart had been hardened and he'd never love another woman the way he'd loved her, until Jeanne. She could have been the one, he loved her, knowing it was wrong, knowing it could jeopardise his mission, he couldn't help himself, she loved him too, he knew that, and there wasn't a day went by that he didn't regret what he'd done to her. He didn't blame her for trying to say he killed her father, in a way he was guilty, he'd gone along with Jenny and let her drag him into her scheming, and he'd lied to Jeanne. "It was real...not DiNardo...my love...real." His voice sounded far away, his mouth was so dry, the coughing fits had left him gasping and breathless all day. "Sorry, so sorry..."

"Don't worry about that now, here, try some ice chips, slow...take it slow."

It was heaven, the cold water, who knew such a simple thing was so perfect? Why was he still so hot, was he sick...? Everything was so messed up; his life was never meant to be like this. He tried to throw off the bed cover only to have it laid back over him, gently but firmly the voice whispered. "You've been shivering Tony, don't want you to get pneumonia, I know you're hot, try to lie still, you're doing better, temperature's down a little, that's right, close your eyes..."

It sure didn't feel like anything was getting any better, he was hot, his throat hurt, his chest hurt...he had his flu shot, how come he had the flu? He hated being sick, hated feeling weak, relying on other people to help him, he could do things for himself, he'd managed before, he'd do it again, only right now he felt so weak, so tired.

He was teetering on the edge of sleep, maybe this time he'd be left in peace; he let himself fall. For a time he was still, his mind clear, his rest complete, it couldn't last; he started to shiver and woke up coughing. He reached out, Dad said he wouldn't leave him, but there was no one. "Dad..." He tried to sit up, to focus, but he felt dizzy and had to close his eyes to stave off the nausea. "Don't leave me...you said you'd stay."

"Hey, I'm here, just went to get an extra blanket. I'm not going anywhere Tony, you hear?"

"Gotcha." The shivering was getting worse and as he felt the weight of the extra blanket he hoped this would help; he hated being cold even more than he hated being too warm, "Dad...so thirsty."

"Okay, let me help you with this, I'll hold the cup, slow and easy, you got it."

Wasn't water this time, orange juice maybe? Didn't matter, felt good, tasted good too. He pulled the bedclothes close and drifted back to sleep drawing comfort from the fact he wasn't alone. So often in his life he had been alone, even when he'd had company, so many wasted hours with women who meant nothing, air stewardesses, yoga instructors, nurses, NCIS agents, they'd come and gone; some like EJ hung around beyond the first few dates, others...He'd dated them, bedded them, always searching for the one...twice he thought he'd succeeded, no make that three times. Wendy and Jeanne were long gone; now Ziva had left him too. He thought they were getting closer, yet she'd gone all the way to Israel to get away from him. What had he done wrong this time? "Talk to me Ziva. Don't shut me out...whatever it is, I can change...at least let me try."

There was no answer, he hadn't expected one, she'd made up her mind, her future didn't include him...where now, what did his own future hold? He'd made so many mistakes; it hadn't all been bad, there'd been some good times, some great times...if he gave himself time maybe he could recapture those good times, if only he could let go of the bad stuff. The support group was helping, and he knew Gibbs and Tim would listen whenever he wanted to talk, Abby and Ducky too, they were good friends. It was hard, sometimes what he was thinking went too deep, hurt too much, he didn't want them to be dragged down. He had to change, he could do it, there was so much in his life that was good and it could get much, much better. When he was over the flu things would change; he'd tried it before, promised himself he'd open up more, it was a promise he had to keep, he couldn't go on having his dreams invaded by his mistakes, he'd do it when he felt better, when he got some real sleep.

NCIS NCIS

His eyelids felt heavy, and his chest was tight; even so he felt better than he had...he tried opening his eyes, seemed to work, and it was light; how long had he been sleeping? He could hear someone else breathing, deep and slow, he smiled, sounded like Dad was sleeping. He sat up and what he saw had him taking in a sharp breath, inevitably he started to cough.

"Tony...sorry, just closed my eyes, didn't mean to sleep. Let me get you a drink."

"Tim? I thought...have you been here the whole time?"

"Don't talk, drink this."

He took a few sips. "I'm good thanks. Was my dad here?" He knew the answer; only in fevered delusions could he have thought his father would leave whatever deal he was cooking up to spend time with his only child.

Tim shook his head. "Just you and me."

"You've been here all night?"

"You're sick, where else would I be?"

"It's only the flu Tim, no reason for you to lose a night's sleep."

"I didn't want you to be alone; when I came over yesterday and saw all your DVDs on the floor, I knew you were pretty sick; I'd have been awake all night worrying about you, figured I might as well stay."

"You could have gone home, it's just the flu; millions of people get over flu all the time."

"Yeah I know, only millions of people haven't had pneumonic plague, you know your lungs are scarred Tony, you have to be careful. So, are you up to eating or do you want a shower first?"

Tony lifted up his arm and sniffed. "You trying to tell me I stink?"

"Nah, but you've been sweating most of the night; I figured you'd want to freshen up."

"You figured right." He swung his legs out of bed and tried standing.

"Take my arm Tony; don't worry; I'm not coming in the bathroom with you, just don't lock the door okay? You're still pretty weak; we don't want you falling over."

"Good plan, Tim...did I say anything, when I was trying to sleep...did I, you know, weird stuff?"

"Weird...? I always thought weird was your default setting...if you did say anything I didn't hear it, now go; it's way past breakfast time; Abby came around earlier with some of her family recipe chicken soup, think you could keep some down?"

"I'll sure give it a try; Tim..."

"Go Tony, call me if you need anything...not anything, I mean if you drop the soap you're on your own..."

Tony was smiling as he closed the door. "No problema, I use shower gel!"

Tim shook his head, he had to get the last word, sounded like Tony was getting better, as he set about heating the soup, Tim played back Tony's delirious ramblings, he'd heard every word Tony uttered during the restless hours of the night, some of them he wished he hadn't. Given time he'd get over seeing his friend in pain, fearing that his laboured breathing could lead to something much worse, but the mental anguish Tony was suffering, that was something that would live with Tim forever. He'd keep it to himself, from the sounds of it Tony was already carrying plenty of baggage without him adding to the weight; his own relationship with his father sure wasn't Hallmark card material but compared with Tony and Senior...There was nothing he could do about old scars, but one thing was for sure, anyone who wanted to hurt his partner from here on in was going to have to go through him; next time Anthony DiNozzo Senior was in town Tim was going to sit him down, and they were going to have a very serious conversation.

THE END