Thanks once again to everyone who has read and reviewed/messaged. Much appreciated.
This is quite a long chapter, certainly a lot longer than I had originally thought it would be!
I am in no way medically trained (biology GCSE is as far as I went) so I'm sorry if any of the medical part is incorrect.
On with the story…Tony's first official NCIS case does not get off to a great start, but things can only get better…right?
"Urgh!" Tony groaned as consciousness came to him. His head felt both fuzzy and acutely painful at the same time and he found that he didn't mind in the slightest about the concrete bed he awoke to find himself lying on.
"DiNozzo?" came a slightly worried voice from above.
It took him a few moments to place the voice, certainly longer than it should have done; he'd gone to the abandoned building with only one other person, after all.
"Gibbs?" he asked hesitantly…hopefully. He tried to crack open an eye and found that the hammering in his head only increased and his vision swayed between a bright haze of colours and a mass of black; closing his eyes again seemed like the sensible thing to do, if not the only option available to him.
"Right here, DiNozzo," Gibbs said quietly, positive that the younger man was feeling the awful aftereffects of a concussion. "Do you know where you are, DiNozzo?" he asked hoping for some sign that the younger man was somewhat cognizant of his surroundings.
"Here," Tony answered as he felt the pull of darkness that sleep was sure to bring.
"Where's here?" Gibbs asked; his brief smile was quickly dampened by the way Tony's already closed eyes scrunched up in pain. He could hear Ducky's voice in the back of his mind: keep him conscious, don't move him and try to make sure he's comfortable; keep an eye out for signs of shock.
Tony sighed loudly as he realised that his desire to sleep and ignore all of his aches and pains was not going to be met. He slowly cracked open an eye and allowed himself a full minute to get used to the light and swallow back his nausea.
The room was dark but there was a tiny sliver of light coming in from high up; shadows dancing across the walls suggested the light was coming from outside, because nothing was moving inside the room. He squinted at the window and caught sight of a tree branch swaying in the wind.
"Basement?" he deduced, as he glanced towards his boss, who was hovering uncertainly above him. His face might have been bathed in shadows, but Tony could read the uncertainty in the man's whole posture; the man was worried…about him?
"Close enough," Gibbs acknowledged with relief, glad to discover that his latest team member was not completely oblivious in his semi-lucid state. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Erm…" he had to think, and he almost laughed at the fact that the simple task had physically hurt; he played out that possible conversation: 'I'm thinking,' he would say, 'well, don't strain yourself,' would come the smart-ass reply from most people.
Thankfully, Gibbs was not most people.
"Baseball bat," he groaned distastefully. Someone had to come after him with a goddamn baseball bat; acting as a human punch-bag was, after all, the best way to impress your new boss.
"You want to tell me what happened?" Gibbs said, and Tony knew it was not a request and was most certainly an order.
"Well…you took the barns, and I took the house," Tony began.
They had come to the address in an effort to find out more about their Staff Sergeant, only to find that the address he had listed in his personnel files belonged to a house that, clearly, no one had lived in for several years.
The small, dilapidated farmhouse looked as though a stiff wind could topple the whole lot and a large part of the roof was missing. Tony had been worried about putting a foot down on the rotting floorboards of the porch, certain that it would go straight through; the old door certainly hadn't needed much of a push to open it, even with the rusting lock still in place.
The sheer depth of dust and dirt in the house had Tony convinced that no one had entered the building for a couple of years at least, but he knew that he had to be thorough and make sure that all of the rooms in the house were equally untouched.
He found no evidence in the house of any recent disturbance, but did find a few photographs that were of their suspect; photos of him in his youth and surrounded by his family, but undoubtedly SSgt. Henson.
He went to the barn to update Gibbs, not at all surprised that he had finished his search first; the farmhouse might have been small, but there were several outbuildings. He headed towards the largest barn; Tony took in the metal rails, the hooks and the broken down air vent and could smell the faintest metallic hint of old blood. A slaughterhouse then, he mused; perfect, he thought, as he recalled several horror movies that started out in the same way.
He heard a metal clang from below and realised that there was an open doorway, with a large, heavy metal door wide open. He assumed it lead into what would have served as the slaughterhouse's cool room where freshly butchered carcasses would be hung up waiting for transportation. He headed towards the doorway before his peripheral vision caught some movement to his right.
He turned round, and then…
"Bam," Tony said, and regretted the volume instantly. "Right in my side and that is when I took the trip down the stairs, I guess. I didn't see the face, but I would guess that, judging by the height and build, it was a man; it could have been Henson," Tony said as he recalled the military photograph of their suspect that had stared out at him from a file before the two of them had left for their fun fact-finding mission.
"Don't move," Gibbs ordered the young man, physically restraining him once it was clear that the younger man had no intention of remaining on the floor. "You were thrown down concrete stairs, DiNozzo; who knows what the hell kind of damage you've got hidden inside." He was also worried that Tony didn't remember being shoved down the stairs; there could be some serious head trauma if he hit his head that hard on the concrete floor.
Tony relented, his brief struggle to get upright had hurt and his stomach had almost rebelled; he was quite sure that Gibbs would have one or two things to say about wearing his latest agent's breakfast. He didn't think anything was broken or bleeding internally, but he was too sore and stiff to even think about moving; Gibbs was there, and he trusted the older man to keep any problems at bay while he took a moment to rest his eyes.
He lay back down and closed his eyes, refusing to speak until he was sure that nothing but air would escape his mouth. "Don't you think we should do something about getting out of here?" he eventually asked.
"There is only one door, DiNozzo; we're not going anywhere just yet," Gibbs said with barely concealed anger at the situation and their mystery warden. He had heard the struggle upstairs and had headed back towards the stairs to investigate, gun drawn, only to have DiNozzo thrown down to meet him while the door slammed shut behind.
Gibbs had managed to cover the remaining distance pretty quickly, but he had not been fast enough; the blood oozing from the gash on the side of his head showed that it had not escaped damage during the fall and there might be all manner of internal injuries.
He'd made sure the young man had a pulse before heading up the stairs, ready to chase after their suspect, only to find that the hefty metal door was firmly closed and heavily locked.
"So we're stuck," Tony stated with a sigh as he looked at his Boss with frustration shining clearly in his eyes. Of course they were stuck; nothing could ever be simple, could it!
"We're not stuck, we're waiting," Gibbs corrected his latest team member.
"Waiting for what?" Tony asked, his eyes closing once again as he tried to get comfortable on the cold floor and ignore the banging drum that was repeating the same two notes in his head over and over and over again.
"The cavalry," Gibbs answered. DiNozzo's phone may have been crushed as his body slammed into the concrete floor, but Gibbs' mobile phone was, for once, in perfect working condition and had one bar of service. He'd called NCIS; he didn't know which agent would be heading the rescue mission, but whoever it was had better have thought to bring a paramedic, or at least Ducky.
"You know, your old partner warned me about you and concussions," Gibbs noted dryly. "The one that you got in Baltimore wasn't exactly your fault," he conceded as he thought of his former TAD Agent's rash actions that had resulted in the Detective's injury. "But given that this is the second concussion you've had since we met, I think Jacobs made a pretty valid point; are you going to need a crash helmet for the rest of your career?"
"DiNozzos have hard heads," Tony pointed out glibly.
"Clearly," Gibbs said wryly, taking in the vision of a bruised and dirtied DiNozzo sprawled across the floor at the bottom of the stairs, his head wound still bleeding sluggishly and his eyes closed in an effort to keep pain and nausea at bay.
"I hope the cavalry come soon," Tony sighed, his eyes still firmly closed. "I really need to use the bathroom."
"Agent DiNozzo, my name is Gary, can you open your eyes for me?" came a voice from above; the man sounded like he was talking to a three year old child. He opened his eyes once he remembered that he was now Agent DiNozzo, only to find himself blinded by some damn light; Tony decided straight away that he and Gary were going to have issues.
"Stop it," he mumbled as he closed his eyes and batted at the offending object.
"DiNozzo, cooperate!" came a firm order from the side. Tony knew that Gibbs was being serious without the slight growl to his voice and he was glad that his eyes were closed so he didn't have to see just how deep the man's scowl was.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" came that same condescending voice from above him.
Tony did open his eyes, glad to find that there was no bright torch being shoved in his face, and glared at the medic; judging by the way the man briefly backed away, his glare was almost as effective as Gibbs' normally was.
"I took a trip down the stairs," Tony pointed out in the same condescending tone the medic had used on him; he thought, given his sprawled out position at the bottom of the stairs and his battered appearance that it was pretty obvious what had happened.
"What did you hit?" the medic asked
"The floor," Tony said unhelpfully.
"DiNozzo!" came a gruff voice from the side while someone else sniggered. Tony turned and saw that Agent Pacci was with Gibbs and the man was clearly finding the whole situation highly amusing.
Gibbs was not.
He wasn't sure if Tony was being deliberately obtuse or whether the man's head injury had shaken up his brain far more than he had originally thought; Gibbs was opting for the former, sure that the younger man's dislike of hospitals extended to any and all medical personnel that were attempting to treat the unwilling patient that he always seemed to be.
"Well it sure as hell wasn't a damn mattress, Gibbs!" Tony ground at as he returned to glaring at the medic. He was glad to see the man had completely backed off, clearly afraid that Tony's bite was much worse than his bark.
"I think he wants to know which part of your body you hit," Pacci said, unable to hide his amusement; it seemed as though the latest Agent of NCIS could be just as surly as the infamous 'second 'b' for bastard' Gibbs.
"It's kind of hard to land on only one part of your body when you've been thrown down a flight of concrete steps," Tony pointed out. He was having fun with being deliberately thick-headed, but that didn't stop him from thinking that the questions were ridiculously stupid.
"I'll take him to the hospital!" Gibbs growled with frustration that was intended to be aimed at his wayward new Agent, but that the medic clearly thought was aimed at him.
"I'm fine," Tony insisted as he tried to get up, unable to stop the painful grunt from escaping him the moment he tried to sit up as all of his aches and pains reminded him of his fall. Whilst he was certain that the damage had not been severe enough to cause any internal damage, he knew that he was going to suffer some awful bruising where the bat had caught his side; judging by the headache, he certainly had a concussion.
"I wasn't asking, DiNozzo," Gibbs voice was firm even as he gently positioned his new Agent into a more comfortable sitting position.
"Understood, Boss," Tony mumbled through the pain. He really didn't want to go to the hospital, but he knew that there was no point in arguing with a man as stubborn as Gibbs, and he certainly didn't have the strength for it; he was exhausted.
Tony had been quiet in the car and as Gibbs drove closer towards the hospital, his answers grew more sluggish; the Senior Agent began to worry that he had made the wrong decision in not forcing DiNozzo to go with the paramedics.
"DiNozzo? DiNozzo!" he tried to rouse the younger man but he could get no response beyond an almost inaudible moan, so Gibbs focused on the road and pushed the accelerator pedal down as far as it could go.
The sound of the brakes screeched through the air as he pulled up in the emergency bay, where he yelled at someone on a cigarette break to give him a hand.
It was only when a nurse started talking about 'next of kin' that Gibbs felt the first stirrings of panic setting in; he knew from his time in Baltimore that Sam Jacobs, Tony's old partner, had served as next of kin.
Jacobs was an hour away, and Tony was still unconscious and needed medical attention as soon as possible.
After practically threatening the nurse when she refused to believe that he was Tony's next of kin and that the paperwork was still pending, she finally gave in and tearfully went off in search of a doctor who could give Gibbs an update on his latest recruit.
Eventually a doctor appeared, his look of apprehension suggested that the nurse may have warned her about one Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
"Agent Gibbs? I'm Doctor Popov," she offered her hand which Gibbs merely rolled his eyes at; he didn't want formal introductions, he wanted to know what was wrong with DiNozzo.
"DiNozzo?" he demanded. "Is he conscious yet?"
"We've put him at the front of the queue for a CT scan to look for any internal bleeding in the brain and the abdominal region. His pupils are equal and reactive which doesn't seem to suggest any major head trauma, but he hasn't really woken up yet, so we want to make sure there are no underlying problems.
"I performed an abdominal exam on Agent DiNozzo, and that did get a response; it was rather colourful and pretty impressive coming from a semi-conscious man. The bruising is already pretty extensive, but the abdomen isn't rigid, which is a good indicator.
"I noticed in his medical file that he recently underwent surgery to repair damage caused by a GSW to the chest; his body will still be recovering from the trauma of the injury and from the surgery itself. He won't yet be back to full strength, so his general unresponsiveness could simply be the body's way of letting him know that he's doing too much too soon."
"So you don't think there are any internal injuries?" Gibbs asked, trying to get to the crux of the matter.
"I'm concerned about what damage the CT scan might show in the abdominal region; we may need to take another scan at a later date to make sure there isn't a slow bleeder somewhere. There is a bump on his head, but given that his pupils are equal and reactive I would be cautiously optimistic that there is no real danger from any head trauma."
Gibbs tried hard not to roll his eyes; he hated it when doctors used the term 'cautiously optimistic' sure that they were being deliberately vague.
"So far it all looks very positive, Agent Gibbs," Doctor Popov tried to reassure the frustrated man in front of her. "Given the medical facts as they seem to be at the moment, I believe that his lack of responsiveness is more to do with sheer exhaustion than injury; we'll double check, of course, but I imagine he'll be awake as soon as his body has had a chance to catch up with the rest of him."
Gibbs nodded and told the Doctor he wanted to be kept updated on DiNozzo's condition and asked to be directed towards the younger man's room, where he could wait while the scan was being done. He then phoned Ducky and, ignoring all of the older man's concerned questions, asked him to find the relevant NCIS paperwork for establishing a next of kin and instructed him to bring it directly to the hospital.
As he settled down into an uncomfortable hospital chair he went over what the Doctor had told him and asked himself whether or not he had let DiNozzo push himself too far?
He knew that the younger man was not yet back to full strength after the shooting in Baltimore, but he seemed to have been managing well enough. Gibbs had raised his concerns with the M.E. about whether or not DiNozzo had been pushing himself too far, but Ducky had seemed to think that the younger man knew his limits.
"Clearly not!" Gibbs muttered angrily to himself.
Tony was exhausted, even though he sensed that he was emerging from what felt like a very deep sleep; he cracked an eye and found that the splitting pain that had assailed him earlier had reduced to a dull throb and a slight light aversion.
The white walls and the narrow bed, complete with metal guard rails, pretty much told him where he was: the hospital. Great! he thought; his inner monologue did not lose any of the intended sarcasm.
"You awake, DiNozzo?" came a gruff voice from beside him; he turned and instantly recognised the furrowed brows of his new Boss.
"Hi, Gibbs," Tony mumbled, surprised at how much effort those two syllables required.
"How are you feeling, dear boy?" came a voice from the other side and he looked into the kindly eyes of the M.E.
"Hey Doctor Mallard," Tony managed a small smile. "I'm fine."
"Really, Anthony, I must insist; it's Ducky," he offered with a smile of his own, ignoring the incredulous snort that erupted from Jethro at the use of the word 'fine'. "And I highly doubt you're feeling 'fine' as you term it; are you suffering from any double vision? Are you troubled by any abdominal pains?"
"Really, Doctor Mallard, I think it might be better if I ask these questions as his attending physician," came another voice, and Tony began to wonder just who else was in his hospital room. "Mr. DiNozzo, I'm Doctor Popov; I'm going to give you a quick exam. Would you gentlemen please give us a moment?"
Gibbs knew that the Doctor was telling rather than asking, having used the same tone himself many times over; he was all set to tell her where to shove her orders when he noticed the slight relaxing of Tony's shoulder muscles and realised that he'd probably feel more comfortable without an audience, too.
"Sure, come on, Duck, let's go and get another cup of that crap they call coffee in the cafeteria," he nodded to DiNozzo and left, dragging the M.E. out beside him who was firing off a list of things that the Doctor needed to check. "I think she knows her job, Duck," he pointed out wryly.
"Well, Mr. DiNozzo," the Doctor said after finishing her exam. "There are no signs of any head trauma and although your abdomen is clearly very tender, I think it is likely just deeply bruised. X-rays were all clear and your scans showed no sign of internal injuries, but if the pain shows no sign of decreasing in the next couple of days, then you're going to need to come back in and have another scan, just to make sure we haven't missed anything.
"Otherwise, I think you can go home today," the Doctor offered, smiling as her patient let out a huge sigh of relief. "You do, however, need to take it easy; it's clear to me that your body is still not fully healed from your shooting, so give it some time to rest and heal. Don't push yourself, Mr. DiNozzo," she sternly advised him, not in the least bit taken in by his look of contrition and slight nod.
Tony regretted the nod instantly; his brain might not be bleeding, but his head still sure as hell hurt. "I'll be good, Doctor," Tony promised. He had no intention of doing anything differently, but he suspected that Gibbs might have something to say about that; the verbose M.E. was likely to have a lecture planned, too, if his look of consternation was anything to go by.
Regardless, the Doctor had given him the green light and Gibbs couldn't argue with that…could he?
The trip back from the hospital had been perhaps the slowest Tony had ever seen Gibbs drive; however, the man still managed to achieve several traffic violations.
Ducky had followed behind them in his Morgan, a car that Tony hoped to explore further during their acquaintance. He figured that the M.E.'s presence would mean a further lecture on proper healthcare; he had already received a stern talk from Doctor Popov and Ducky had freely interjected his own advice with a near severe tone that Tony wouldn't have expected from the kindly M.E.
Apparently, when it came to healthcare, Ducky could be as fierce as Gibbs.
They were all sat around Gibbs' kitchen table while the Senior Agent busied himself cooking 'a nutritionally balanced meal that would encourage the healing process' as ordered by Ducky. The Doctor was going over Tony's prescription and explaining the reason behind the pills and the creams that were to help with his pain levels and the bruising.
The silence was broken when Gibbs placed a few sheets of paper and a pen in front of Tony with an expectant look on his face: "You need to sign this," he said gruffly and without further explanation.
"What is it?" Tony asked when he realised that the Senior Agent was not going to tell him unless prompted. He discovered that trying to focus on the writing was too tiring and trying to lift an arm to reach for it and bring it closer required more effort than he could manage.
"Official documents," Gibbs said in the same tone Tony had used earlier with the medic trying to help him, his eyes narrowing further as if he was trying to accomplish his very own CT scan with his blue orbs.
Tony simply raised an eyebrow; he knew exactly why Gibbs had chosen to use that tone and nodded his head in as he conceded the reason with a wry grin, completely unrepentant for his earlier actions.
"Ask a stupid question expect a stupid answer," he shrugged, still grinning at the Senior Agent who returned a pale imitation of a smile, but a smile nonetheless.
"They're forms for your next of kin," Gibbs informed him, quickly losing his faint smile as he knew that DiNozzo would not be happy with what he would have to say. "In your official paperwork for NCIS you left your next of kin listed as Sam Jacobs; I know he was your partner and that the two of you are still friends, DiNozzo, but he's at least an hour away over in Baltimore."
"Less than an hour away when you're driving," Tony mumbled, unable to contain the dig despite the melancholic turn his thoughts had taken. He knew that his job came with risk, but he wasn't sure whether or not he felt comfortable replacing Sam as his point of contact; Sam had been the first person since his college days that had taken any interest in his safety and happiness. The man had done so much for Tony, and he already felt as though he had abandoned his former partner.
"This time it wasn't serious," Gibbs stressed, ignoring the uncharacteristic snort that came from his old friend.
"Not serious? Really, Jethro; the man has a concussion and a multitude of other injuries and you do not have the necessary years of medical training to make such a claim. Your 'gut' as you term it, may serve you well in your job, but I can assure you, you do not have the medical experience to give you any kind of reliable gut feelings in regards to medical care and the severity of injuries sustained…" Ducky's rambling monologue was quiet and not really directed at the Senior Agent, but he was quite happy to continue his near inaudible rant as he listed any and all possible complications that could occur with injuries like Tony's.
"Next time you end up in hospital, and I figure that with someone who attracts as much trouble as you do that the next visit will not be too far away, I don't want to risk waiting for over an hour while Jacobs makes his way down from Baltimore to sign a consent form.
"I want you to list the name of someone here in DC," Gibbs said, trying to gauge DiNozzo's emotions by looking into his eyes and searching for a distraction. Tony's poker face held; it seemed to him that DiNozzo was already accomplished at hiding his true feelings if he felt the situation warranted it.
"I…er…can I think about it?" Tony asked as he took the forms from Gibbs, refusing eye contact once he had the sheets of paper in his hands. He knew that it was a sensible request but he had no idea who he could possibly put down; he didn't really know anyone very well in DC yet.
Gibbs would have preferred to get a name and address on those forms as soon as possible, but a rather stern look from Ducky persuaded him that his patience might be the wisest course of action.
"Now then, my boy," Ducky began and Tony knew that the lecture was imminent; he tried his best to stop a sigh. "We need to have a word about your understanding of basic healthcare…"
Ducky's stern admonishment about Tony's seeming lack of concern in regards to his own health lasted well into the night and the younger man's plaintive looks towards his Boss paid off when Gibbs ordered him up to bed. Tony never thought he'd be grateful for an enforced bedtime, but as Ducky's tirade showed no signs of ending he was more than thankful for the reprieve.
It was nice to know that Ducky was so concerned with his welfare; before Sam he had rarely had that much concern directed solely at him.
His father had spent most of Tony's childhood doing his level best to ignore his only child, passing him off into someone else's hands: the maids, expensive boarding schools and eventually Rhode Island Military Academy in a last ditch effort to avoid his parental responsibilities.
His friends at Ohio State had been fun and exciting and over the years a few deep friendships had emerged between the former frat buddies; during their college years, however, more concern was directed towards whether or not everyone was whole and healthy enough to win their next match.
During his time at the Police Academy the instructors cared only enough to make sure that their own backs were covered; they had hundreds of cadets passing through every year and they could not afford the time to get to know each and every one of them.
Peoria had seen him paired up with a good cop, but Brooks had been a man who was on the point of retirement; the city was a relatively quiet one and during Tony's days of chasing down traffic violators and walking his beat, their relationship never evolved past the point of work. Brooks had been counting down the days until he could devote his time wholeheartedly to his vegetable patch and Tony had been an excited Rookie, eager to prove himself.
Philadelphia saw him being placed with Danvers; the man might not have been a dirty cop on the Cartel's payroll, but he had sure as hell tried to make Tony's life miserable. Rookies were supposed to get a rough deal, but Tony had two years under his belt by then and was still being doubted for his intentions. Danvers left him to deal with the paperwork, any and all problems with the Brass and used Tony as his own personal errand boy.
Sam and Baltimore had changed all of that. While the majority of the Police Department seemed intent on focusing upon his name and his origins, there had been a few who were prepared to look beyond rumour and presumption.
Once Tony had proved to Sam that he was not some clueless kid who bought his Detective's badge, there had grown between them a successful working relationship. Sam had managed to find the time and patience to teach Tony what he could and try to find a better instructor if he felt he was ill-qualified.
Eventually, the two began to meet up outside of the 22nd Precinct; Sam welcomed him into his home and invited Tony to share Christmas with him and his daughter, Cathy. Sam had fast become one of Tony's closet friends; the man understood him on a level that Tony was normally uncomfortable with, but couldn't find it within himself to be concerned about it.
Sam had done something for Tony that no one else had ever tried to do; he had given Tony a family. It was not his family, but it was still a feeling of belonging that Tony treasured.
It was clear that both Ducky and Abby were concerned about him, if the way they clucked over his welfare was any indicator; he was still not wholly comfortable with that kind of attention, but he appreciated the sentiment behind it.
Gibbs was harder to fathom.
He knew that Gibbs was a former Marine, and as such as man who likely valued loyalty and brotherhood. However, the man was anything but social; he was terse and impatient and sometimes a little more forceful with his head-slaps than necessary. The man clearly wanted his team to be responsible for their own actions but he was more discreet about it that his former Captain had been; working alongside Gibbs in Baltimore, Tony had received several rules and a couple of dressing-downs in private for some wrong he had apparently committed.
Gibbs didn't seem in the least bit perturbed by the fact that his team consisted of a man who had yet to receive his Special Agent status, and an absent Blackadder; in fact, Gibbs didn't seem to miss his Agent in the slightest, and Tony didn't know what that said about his new Boss or his new teammate.
He remembered that in Baltimore Gibbs had seemed far more eager to work with Tony and Sam than his own agents, despite their earlier problems; he had eagerly taken advantage of the situation when Nixon screwed up and fired him with barely concealed satisfaction.
Tony had heard the rumours about Gibbs' infamous inability to keep a team together; he had heard that one man, Burley, had managed five years under Gibbs before high-tailing it to the seas, never to be heard from again…or so the story goes.
There seemed to be very little concern for his so-called team.
And yet…
Tony understood that feeling; he had stood by Danvers through all sorts in Philadelphia because the man had been his partner, but when the Cartel mess shit hit the fan, he did no more for Danvers than he would have done for any other cop.
Tony had seen the way Gibbs treated the eccentric Forensic Scientist; with small but patient smiles, he exhibited a great deal of care towards the younger woman that was always clear in his actions if not his words.
The Senior Agent showed an uncharacteristically long streak of patience when dealing with the verbose Medical Examiner; it was clear that the two men had known each other a long time and Tony had been pleased to hear some of Ducky's more pointed comments in the lecture being directed at Gibbs. Tony could not imagine the stoic Marine taking criticism and advice from anyone as easily as he seemed to allow from Ducky.
From the way the Senior Agent sometimes acted, Tony felt as though he was being allowed entrance into a very exclusive club; he didn't think that Gibbs was the type of person to readily welcome everyone he came across into his life, but Tony was beginning to suspect that he may well be working towards earning a backstage pass. He doubted that he'd ever have the VIP pass that Abby and Ducky seemed to have, but he was starting to believe that he could have a home in DC with these people.
"Sleep well, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as the younger man shuffled towards the kitchen table.
Tony grunted in response; the night had been a long one as he quickly discovered that he was unable to find any position that did not put pressure on one of his many aches and pains.
"Coffee?" Gibbs offered, pushing the sugar towards his latest recruit; they were still learning about each other, but Gibbs had quickly surmised that DiNozzo had a sweet tooth. His watchful eyes caught the way the younger man carefully eased himself into his seat, unable to conceal the slight grimace as the movement pulled on his heavily bruised abdomen.
While he did not like that DiNozzo had been injured on his watch, he was slightly grateful for the reprieve it gave him; there was no way DiNozzo could go off on one of his runs in that condition, although Gibbs would not put it past the stubborn young man to at least attempt it.
The injury had also caused Tony to relax his wardrobe for the first time since arriving at NCIS. The suit was gone and replaced with a casual button down shirt and a zip-up hoodie; both items that Tony wouldn't have to struggle painfully into. His trousers were baggy track-suit bottoms that were a little loose around the waist, ensuring that there was not additional pressure on the bruising.
Gibbs doubted that the relax in dress was anything to do with Tony's professional comfort levels, but clearly the younger man felt as though he needed some degree of comfort.
The fact that it was a Sunday would mean there were no classes for Tony to attend at FLETC, but they were supposed to be working a case. Gibbs was going to have to go into the Navy Yard, and as much as he didn't like it, DiNozzo was going to have to go, too.
'Ducky is going to bust a gut when he sees DiNozzo in the bullpen,' Gibbs thought to himself.
"You eat that," Gibbs ordered the younger man as he pushed a cooked breakfast in front of the younger man. "I'm going to clean up and then we should get going."
Tony did not protest; he ached all over, his stomach particularly hurt like hell, but he didn't want to leave the case to go cold while he huddled up in a comfortable bed. If it was Henson who was in that barn, then the man was going to regret it!
"You brought him to work? Really, Jethro!" Ducky admonished the Senior Agent. "He might not have suffered any major injuries, but his body has still suffered; he will undoubtedly still be feeling the aftereffects of his concussion and the pain from the bruising, especially across his abdomen, will demand that any and all movement be limited."
"What do you want me to do, Duck?" Gibbs asked, exasperation leaking through. "We're working an active case, and every minute that we're not chasing down leads Henson gets further away; I'm not dragging DiNozzo out into the field, but I need his eyes and his mind trying to track Henson down, right here, from the safety of his desk."
Ducky knew that his old friend would not allow young Anthony to go out into the field in his condition; despite the glares and the grumbles, it was clear that Jethro had come to care for the young man. Baltimore had started with little more than irritation and intrigue, but Jethro had quickly come to value Detective DiNozzo and the Senior Agent had broken one of his own rules: Rule 10, never get personally involved in a case.
The Detective had helped Jethro solve the case, and when he had been injured on a case that had nothing to do with NCIS, the Senior Agent had stayed in Baltimore to look after the younger man; Jethro had set up a protection detail with himself cast as the only guard.
Since Anthony had arrived in DC, Gibbs had been the one to offer him a place to stay; the Senior Agent had taken the time to make sure he was eating properly, he had hounded Ducky to look for a competent physiotherapist who would be able to keep Anthony in line, and he had taken time out of his days to drive the young man to and from his courses at FLETC.
Ducky couldn't remember Jethro ever being as involved in any of his Agents' lives as he seemed to be with his latest recruit's; even Stan Burley, who had lasted going on five years with Gibbs, had never caused the frustration and concern that Anthony seemingly manages to incite within seconds in the usually stoic leader.
"Very well, Jethro," Ducky acquiesced, aware that his friend's actions indicated that he would do everything he could to keep the younger man safe if he could. "But I want to be made aware if anything about his condition changes, and I want you to make sure he eats a properly nutritious and balanced lunch; I will have more than a few words to say if I find out that he has either skipped lunch altogether, or has sated his appetite with another box of pizza."
Gibbs shook his head in disbelief as he headed back to the bullpen; Ducky could be quite stern when he wanted to be and his pointed comments usually gained more venom as his eyebrows went higher, even if his voice remained quiet and even. But Gibbs could not remember having received quite so many orders from the older man in quite so short an amount of time; Tony, it seemed, brought out the Doctor in Ducky.
"You need help with that?" Gibbs asked as he saw his latest recruit bending down to heave a box of files onto his desk; the grimace and the careful way he was holding himself indicated that Tony was suffering from more than just discomfort.
"You offering?" Tony asked as he tried to supress a groan of pain and iron out the lines he knew would be masking his forehead.
"Not unless you're asking?" Gibbs replied. He didn't like knowing that DiNozzo was hurting, but he also needed the younger man to know that he was going to have to start asking for help when he needed it. Gibbs might think of an apology as a sign of weakness, but knowing when your body needed a break was just common sense.
"Then I'm not asking," Tony answered. He was feeling pretty rotten; not only did he hurt like hell, but so far he had made anything but a good impression to the one man who had gone above and beyond in his attempts to get Tony his Special Agent status.
"These have just been sent over from Henson's CO," Tony informed his Boss, unable to hide the sigh as he managed to drop the box onto his desk. "I wanted all personnel files on Henson's closest buddies from the Corps; and I asked for any files concerning disciplinary action or times that complaints were made but not carried through. I thought we might get an idea of who would be the best person to know where Henson might go," he shrugged.
It was a long shot; the kind of files he had in the box were the ones not deemed relevant enough to type up and enter into one of the many military databases. However, Tony was in no shape to chase down leads in the field, so he was going to be stuck looking for a paper trail.
Henson's financials were being sent to him and the SSgt's personnel files had already been combed through by both Tony and Gibbs and so far those had provided little more than the address for an abandoned farm, that contained little more than a disused abattoir and dust covered photographs.
Suddenly he got an idea.
"If someone makes their own log cabin, is there some kind of database that would house the address?" Tony asked.
"There should be some evidence of ownership for tax purposes, I suspect," Gibbs answered, wondering what had caught DiNozzo's attention. "If the Henson family bought the land, there should be a record of the deed somewhere."
"In the farmhouse, there wasn't much of anything except a whole hell of a lot of dust, some broken furniture and several old photos. A few of the photos were of the same log cabin, and Henson was in them with who I assume must be his parents."
"It is worth a try," Gibbs offered. "If the Henson family bought the land, there should be a record of the deed somewhere, so we might be able to get a location from the Land Registry Office."
"If not, Abby can triangulate a rough location using landmarks in the background, right?" Tony asked, getting slightly excited at the chance of a possible lead. "There was one photo that had what looked like Bearfence Mountain in the background, which is in the Shenandoah National Park. So we have a rough area already."
Tony had done quite a lot of outdoor activities with his frat buddies during his college years, and one of his friends had a particular partiality towards climbing; together they had explored several different areas of the Appalachian Mountains, but Tony had never imagined that knowledge would ever help him solve a case.
"Phone the Land Registry Office; I'll find a team to go out and bag the photographs," Gibbs nodded his agreement. A log cabin in the middle of a heavily wooded area would be a quiet and secluded place for a suspect to hide; this did indeed feel like a potential lead. "Good job, DiNozzo."
Tony smiled. Maybe he hadn't messed things up too badly then.
"Ow!" he rubbed the back of his head. The head-slap had lacked its usual force, but while the aftereffects of the concussion were dissipating, his head was still feeling more than a little sensitive.
"Quit day-dreaming and get to work, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered the younger man as he headed towards the elevator. "You've got a job to do."
"Taking advantage," Tony grumbled as he reached for the phone. "Slapping a concussed man…"
There we go…Tony's first active case for NCIS might actually have an end in sight.
SSgt – Staff Sergeant.
CT – Computed Tomography (medical scan used to look for bruises and internal bleeding or irregularities).
GSW – Gun-shot wound.
CO – Commanding Officer.
Next up – Morrow meets DiNozzo in person and watches him interact with Team Gibbs. The two-man team gain ground on Henson and Tony learns the value of Rule 22, although thankfully through someone else.