Thanks once again to everyone who has taken the time to read and review/message/alert…
Hope everyone has a nice time over Easter.
Sorry for the cliff-hanger ending; I know it was a little cruel, but it seemed like as good a place as any to end the chapter and it has been interesting hearing everyone's theories about what will happen.
Also, I know I promised an interrogation with Aikers in this one, but the chapter started to run a little long and so it will have to wait until chapter 11.
So…on with the story and we'll see if anyone got it right!
The lull in action could not have existed for more than a split-second, but while the shot seemed to slow down time, the reaction seemed to pick up speed drastically, passing him by in a blur.
The lone shot echoed straight down Tony's spine as he found himself being thrown back towards the rusting conveyor belt. He ignored the sharp pain that lanced its way through his head as he got unsteadily back to his feet and spun around, his gun-hand held steadfast in front of him aiming straight towards where he heard the shot originate. Pure instinct, learned from years of training and experience, kicked in.
The echoes from that first bullet hadn't even died down before the short, sharp bursts of controlled return-fire broke out, torch-light zeroing in on the location where that first shot originated and the brief but unmistakable sight of a muzzle-flash had caught the eyes of the two members of SWAT.
Tony barely took the time to notice that SWAT had secured the body and were calling in reinforcements. He didn't think the call would be necessary; there was nothing and no one else out here and the shots would have been unmistakable over the pre-existing silence.
"Gibbs?" Tony called quietly, afraid to hear the state his Boss was in but even more afraid that he wouldn't hear an answer.
He had been searching underneath a rusting conveyor belt, carefully shining his torchlight in all the darkened corners and over the dirty floor, looking for signs of recent footprints. Just as he had decided to move on to the next area of shadows, he heard Gibbs warning echo from behind him. Before he even had the time to respond a heavy weight barrelled into him, sending him flying headfirst into the conveyor belt; he'd managed to keep hold of his gun, but his torch rolled away, creating tumbling shadows on the surrounding environment as it went.
He had chosen to ignore the sharp pain pulsing through his forehead and worked on neutralising the threat before turning to find out his Boss' fate.
"Gibbs?" he called again quietly, kneeling over the prone form and hesitantly reaching for a pulse.
"I'm not one of your late-night pick-ups, DiNozzo, keep your hands to yourself," came a wry, pained tone from the dark.
Tony sat back, letting out a huge sigh of relief; he didn't think he could have handled it if Gibbs had died saving him.
"Are you ok?" he asked, grabbing his torch from nearby so he could properly assess the older man's condition. He didn't think Gibbs would appreciate being looked over by anyone, least of all his latest recruit, but Tony didn't really care much for the man's opinion right then; the man had brought Tony onto his team, and he would have to get used to what that would mean.
"Peachy," came the grouchy reply along with a barely suppressed groan as the older man tried to sit up.
Tony finally had his flashlight in his hand and passed the beam quickly over the other man, the bright red liquid staining his left shoulder instantly screaming for attention.
"You got shot," Tony needlessly pointed out, feeling the guilt beginning to pool in his stomach, making him feel leaden and nauseous all at once.
"Ya think, DiNozzo," came the sarcastic reply. Gibbs couldn't supress a moan as Tony pushed his top over the wound in an effort to staunch the bleeding.
"You got shot saving me," Tony stressed, his disbelief over the situation evident. He heard one of the SWAT guys call for an ambulance so he tried to focus his attention on making sure Gibbs was ok in the interim.
"I'm glad you can remember what happened all of two minutes ago; it will make writing up your report easier," the torchlight was directed solely at the injured Agent, but Gibbs didn't need any light to know what emotions were pasted across the younger man's face.
DiNozzo's feelings surrounding his self-worth were not evident because the man liked to bare his soul, but because his personnel file screamed of one incident after another where the man had recklessly risked his life without a moment of hesitation. Gibbs didn't need Sam Jacobs to translate that particular branch of behaviour; it was all too similar to how his own had been after he had succeeded in taking his revenge against Pedro Hernandez and his life lacked any real purpose with his family gone and a return to active duty seemed impossible.
Franks had been there to drag him back from the brink and give his life meaning and purpose once again through working at NCIS; he would try to do the same for DiNozzo.
"Why?" came a completely bewildered Tony, unable to comprehend why a man like Gibbs would risk his life for a man he barely knew.
"A good memory tends to serve you well in this job, DiNozzo," Gibbs answered, being deliberately obtuse.
"Not the report, Gibbs," Tony responded with exasperation. "Why did you risk your life for me like that?" he asked, accidentally putting a little too much pressure on the wound, causing Gibbs to wince and lean away from the man. "Sorry," he apologised quietly.
"Because I don't want to have to break in another Agent," Gibbs replied; leaning against a stone pillar and closing his eyes, he tried to breath around his pain.
He was pretty sure the damage was minimal; muscle and tendon damage probably and blood-loss certainly, but he was equally sure that the bullet hadn't nicked the top of his left lung as breathing was easy and the only real pain came from the slight movement that came with respiration.
Despite his assessment, he was feeling incredibly light-headed and he couldn't focus his mind long enough to try and figure out why. He winced and instinctively tried to move away from the pain as he felt DiNozzo once more apply heavy pressure to the wound.
"I'm sorry, Gibbs," Tony apologised once more. "But it is bleeding pretty heavily and we need to try and stop that."
Truth be told, Tony was alarmed at how much blood Gibbs was losing; the bullet must have nicked an artery.
He did not ease up on the pressure.
"Don't apologise," Gibbs managed to say somewhat evenly, in spite of the pain.
"Yeah, yeah; it's a sign of weakness, I know," Tony rolled his eyes. "Just so you know, I think that is one of your more ridiculous rules."
There was a small frown at that, but Gibbs had not reopened his eyes and Tony felt that the best thing to do was keep the Senior Agent awake and responsive.
"Can I ask you something?" he asked, nodding in gratitude to a member of SWAT who passed him some gauze for Gibbs' shoulder.
"You can ask," came a tired response.
"If I did what you've just done…" he didn't get the chance to finish.
"I would kick your ass, DiNozzo," Gibbs opened his eyes to level a glare at the younger man; considering the man's condition, the glare had a surprising amount of power behind it.
Of course, Tony was completely unaffected by it.
"That's pretty much what I figured," he grinned back.
"You ever even think about cashing out on my watch, DiNozzo, and we're going to have more than words," the Senior Agent threatened.
"So, I know we've sorted out who my next-of-kin is, but the more important question right now is…who is yours?" Tony asked curiously.
"Ducky," Gibbs said with a bitter taste in his mouth; the kindly Doctor was an old friend, but the man could be a real pain in the ass when it came to healthcare. DiNozzo had sussed the man out pretty well when he had been trying to decide on his own next-of-kin; Ducky never could seem to understand Gibbs' need to just get on with the job, in spite of his injuries.
"Ha!" Tony didn't even try to hide his amusement as he pictured the lecture Ducky already had waiting in the wings. "Good luck with that," he offered with pleasure at the other man's obvious discomfort that had nothing to do a bullet and everything to do with the kindly M.E.'s transformation from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde at the slightest sign of an injury.
"I'd watch out, DiNozzo," Gibbs warned. "If you think that just because I'm listed as your next-of-kin on paper that Ducky won't have a lecture or ten waiting for you when you next get shot, then your gut is not nearly as reliable as I thought it might be."
The younger man didn't respond to that, as he knew the truth behind those words; Ducky didn't seem like the type to limit his concerns to only those he was responsible for on paper. Tony did, however, take offense at the way Gibbs had stressed 'when' and had not offered an 'if' as a suitable alternative; the Senior Agent made it sound as though he made a trip to the hospital every other day.
Tony gladly handed control of Gibbs' welfare over to the professionals once the EMTs had arrived, happy to have that particular burden lifted. He was surprised, however, that the Senior Agent handed control of the scene over to him as he was being hauled off on a stretcher, with strict instructions to make sure Ducky got the body and Abby got the evidence over anyone that the idiots in the FBI might suggest instead.
"Right then," Tony said as he turned to look at everyone on scene and realised they were waiting to find out what he wanted them to do. He had run a scene before, but that had been with uniformed cops and CSI's he knew and who knew him; with the exception of Fornell, he was a stranger to everyone there.
"Piece of cake," he muttered to himself, wiping his hands on his trousers, the drying blood beginning to pull on his skin. "Ok, people, we've got work to do."
"Really, Jethro," Ducky admonished the man. "Between you and Anthony I fear that we will never get through a week without a trip to the hospital for one injury or another."
"Not like I asked for this, Duck," Gibbs said tiredly. The Doctor had been spewing his tirade for almost a quarter of an hour and between the drugs and the blood-loss, all Gibbs really wanted to do was go to sleep.
"What part of throwing yourself in front of a bullet is not asking for it?" Ducky half demanded and half stated, his irritation clear.
"Would you rather I let DiNozzo get shot? Because if I did, I can assure you, we'd be having an entirely different conversation with his body lying on one of your tables in the morgue!" Gibbs pointed out with a little more venom in his tone than he usually addressed the Doctor with, but he was tired and in pain and despite it all, he could not regret his decision one bit.
The Senior Agent's blunt statement and the imagery it conjured up seemed to break through Ducky's concern and exasperation over his friend's constant need to put himself in danger.
"No, of course not, quite right, Jethro," Ducky quietly acceded. "The damage is not all that serious provided you allow the muscles time to heal," he said with an accusing look at the Senior Agent. "But you did lose a lot of blood, and you will feel the effects of that most keenly, I'm afraid…"
Gibbs drowned out the medical jargon at that point.
Both Abby and Ducky had arrived at the hospital before Gibbs was ready for them; both were loud with their concern and Abby had all but crushed him, as if bear-hugs alone could remove the bullet from him with nothing but sheer force and determination.
Abby had demanded to know what DiNozzo had been doing when Gibbs was busy getting himself shot, and the Senior Agent had done his best to ensure that the Forensic Specialist understood the true nature of the incident.
"It was my choice, Abs," Gibbs stated firmly, holding her gaze with narrowed eyes. "I couldn't get a bead on the shooter and I didn't know whether or not DiNozzo could get to cover quickly enough; I wasn't going to risk him like that."
"But you got shot because of him," Abby pouted, aware of the weakness in her argument but feeling concern and anger override her usually rational mind.
"I got shot because Rodriguez pulled the trigger. Don't go giving DiNozzo hell over this; he's feeling like hell over it all already," Gibbs admitted. He had never felt much compulsion to look after his agents in such a manner before, but he did know that Tony was already holding himself accountable and that the man was always going to be his own fiercest critic.
"He did his job as best as he could under the circumstances and he was the one who stopped the bleeding, Abs; there is no reason to hold anything against him," Gibbs said pointedly.
"Ok, Bossman," Abby acquiesced. "I'll be good, I promise."
She had spent the rest of her visit sitting on his bed, fussing unnecessarily over his bed sheets and attempting to get the nurses to bring him another pillow; promising to sneak him in some proper food when he was offered a tray of congealed gloop.
"Abs, you need to get back to the Navy Yard and start processing the evidence that's going to be coming in from the factory, and Duck, haven't you got an autopsy that you should go and see to?" Gibbs asked tiredly, attempting to give a gentle hint that their company was not all that much appreciated right then.
"Of course, Jethro; it is most unfair of me to leave all the work to Gerald," Ducky nodded; that his old friend wasn't fighting tooth and nail to get out of his hospital bed told Ducky just how much the blood loss was affecting him.
"Make sure DiNozzo is ok, will ya?" Gibbs asked, cracking open an eye to look at the M.E. "I didn't get a good look at him on the scene, but I know I banged into him pretty hard. Just make sure, ok?"
"I will endeavour to do so," Ducky agreed. "I'll make sure he comes here with everything they have on the case as soon as he is able to find the time," he assured the Senior Agent, all too aware of how much he hated being left in the dark about an on-going investigation.
"Don't think you're going to need to ask him that, Duck," Gibbs said quietly, cognizant of the fact that DiNozzo was becoming very good at pre-empting his orders and had more than likely already decided on a trip to the hospital as soon as he could manage. He finally lost his grip on consciousness and slipped into an exhausted sleep.
"I fear, my dear," he said to Abby as he offered her an arm, "that we shall have many more sleepless nights now that we have two of them to worry about," Ducky shook his head; no matter how much he had come to like young Anthony, he did wish that the young man was just a little less like Jethro in regards to his attitude towards his own wellbeing.
Tony was exhausted and his head was still throbbing; he was grateful that Gibbs was safely ensconced in his hospital bed, far enough away that Tony didn't have to hide every wince and grunt of pain as loud noises and bright lights continued to assault his senses at the crime scene. At least the blood had stopped sluggishly trickling down his forehead.
He had set everyone to work relatively easily, although Fornell had simply raised an eyebrow and leant back against a rusting piece of obsolete machinery, an infuriatingly smug grin gracing his normally stoic façade.
Tony had offered his best glare before stalking off and muttering to himself about the incompetency of the FBI who could not even follow the most basic of instructions. He knew what the show was all about; Fornell was making it clear that he might agree to follow Gibbs' lead every now and then, but DiNozzo hadn't earned the same right.
The Senior FBI Agent had told him that he would return to NCIS and to Aikers; Tony had made it clear that the man was not to be interrogated until Gibbs either gave the go-ahead, or was ready to do it himself.
Fornell had thankfully agreed, but Tony knew it was nothing to do with his insistence on the matter but rather because the man had a healthy dose of respect for Gibbs' 'second 'b' for bastard' approach to certain situations.
Being forced to play catch-up on his main suspect was one of those situations.
The other FBI Agents were, thankfully, more focused on closing their case than on the pissing match taking place on the side-lines and as they didn't seem to think that Tony was forgetting some crucial task, they followed his orders happily enough simply because it would mean that the job was getting done.
He had phoned Ducky the moment the ambulance left to let him know of Gibbs' imminent arrival at the local hospital; he had asked that the older man inform Abby of her beloved Bossman's status, chickening out by stating that the news would be better delivered in person rather than over the phone.
He was a little worried about what both of their reactions would be; Tony had told Gibbs not long ago that they were partners now and that would mean that he would watch his Boss' six no matter what.
Now here they were, with Gibbs on his way to the hospital and carrying a bullet with his name on it.
He still couldn't believe that the Senior Agent had pushed him out of the path of a bullet only to end up catching one himself.
Tony knew that Sam would sacrifice his life to save Tony's; it wasn't a thought he was entirely comfortable with but it was a sentiment he heartily returned. The two of them had been partners, through good times and bad, for nearly two years and had come to depend on each other for more than just the job. The trust between them had been slow to start, but had rapidly picked up speed and evolved into so much more.
Gibbs did not know him like Sam did.
Gibbs did not owe him anything; their short time working together had not really allowed the chance for any real interdependency to develop between them, either professionally or personally.
He knew the Senior Agent had the whole Marine mentality going on and that 'leave no man behind' was more than just a simple phrase to men like Gibbs, but Tony was not a soldier in his unit, he was not even a real Agent yet; his probationary period was not yet complete and as such, his status as Special Agent was still pending.
Gibbs' actions told him more about the man than his seemingly limited word-count ever could, and Tony found himself feeling terrified that someone was prepared to pay the ultimate price for his wellbeing and wholly comforted that he had someone that cared enough to take that risk. Tony felt it was a sure sign that his inexplicably strong faith in the older man had not been misplaced and that Gibbs had, in fact, been more deserving of it than he might previously have believed.
Tony had not been able to supress a large sigh of relief when he saw that it was Ducky's assistant, Gerald, who had turned up for the body rather than the M.E. himself. He was still reeling from his new Boss taking a bullet from him and all he wanted to do was get on with the job and make sure they had everything they needed to make sure Aikers and anyone associated with him went down for good.
Ducky would have taken one look at Tony and tried to put him on the side-lines, even if the older man did end up holding him accountable for Gibbs' injury.
Eventually, the search of the premises was finished and the scene was deemed secure, allowing the CSU to move in and gather all the evidence they needed.
Tony had already handed his weapon over, as per protocol in a fatal shooting, and he had secured his statement along with those of the two SWAT members who had also been involved in the shooting; he would have to get Gibbs' at some stage, but that could wait until the man had a little more blood flowing through his system.
The evidence that had been bagged and tagged was being sent over to Abby's lab double time, trying to find anything that linked Rodriguez to Aikers and ascertaining whether or not there were more people involved.
Tony was pretty certain he was on top of everything and he allowed himself a moment to collapse against a nearby wall; the past few days had been exhausting and served as a harsh reminder that his body had not yet fully recovered from his own recent brush with death back in Baltimore.
His more recent trip down a flight of concrete stairs and his current concussion only added to the fatigue, and he was glad that the case seemed to be winding down to a close; he was almost wishing for the quiet, mind-numbing boredom that made up FLETC classes, if only for the chance to catch up on some sleep.
He wondered if Gibbs would mind him crashing in his spare room for another night; he didn't think he could face a sleeping bag in his new but empty apartment.
"Ok people, the job's done here; let's wrap it up, we've still got work to do," Tony said, pushing away from the wall and from the pulsating pain in his head. He wanted to gather together all of the preliminaries so he could give Gibbs a thorough debriefing when he got to the hospital.
Next stop…Abby's lab.
"Tony!" Abby exclaimed as she rushed towards the latest recruit for Team Gibbs, defying the difficulty she should have had in her chunky six-inch platform boots, crushing him in one of her infamous hugs.
While she had been examining the evidence as it had trickled in, she had let her mind wander, thinking over what Gibbs had said in the hospital.
She couldn't deny that her first emotion had been anger when she discovered that her beloved Silver Fox had been shot on Tony's watch. The Bossman had brought Tony on board thinking that the younger man would be more than just a good addition but a worthy one, more than capable of getting the job done and, more importantly, of watching his six.
Tony had failed.
At least, that was what she had first thought.
She now knew that Gibbs' injury hadn't been because of any error on Tony's part but rather because the Senior Agent had been watching Tony's six, and doing his best under difficult circumstances to make sure his new Agent made it through his probationary period in one piece.
She could not yet say that she knew Anthony DiNozzo very well, but there were certain aspects of his personality that seemed to stand out more than others; some of those traits she had picked up on her own, others she had learnt through Gibbs or the Duckman.
Tony was a damn good investigator, a shameless flirt and he had a mischievous streak as wide as the Mississippi; beneath all that, though, there was a vulnerability to the man that she would never have expected when she had first met the seemingly cocky, self-assured Detective back in Baltimore.
She was heartily ashamed at the ease in which she had initially blamed Tony for her Bossman's wound, knowing, even without Gibbs' assurance, that Tony would be castigating himself far more effectively than anyone else could ever manage.
To see Tony wander into her lab, his apprehension perfectly obvious, was more than enough to bring out her compassionate side. The fact that he had a head-wound and looked almost as ashen as Gibbs had done in his hospital bed only served to further fuel her internal self-reprimands and her external concerns.
"You look like you should be in the bed next to Bossman," she said, her stern words softened by the gentle way she stroked the side of his head, near the small wound, but not touching the swollen area that she knew had to be painful.
By the slight wince she saw pass his face, one that Abby was certain had nothing to do with his head-wound, she knew that he was indeed holding himself fully accountable. She also suspected that no one, with the possible exception of Gibbs, would be able to assuage his guilt.
That didn't mean she couldn't give it a go.
"You know that this isn't your fault, right, Tony?" she asked carefully, as she was aware that she did not yet know him well enough to know where the potential minefields were in these sorts of conversations.
"Yeah, of course," Tony offered, his mega-watt smile alone might have been convincing if his tone of voice had been even a little more steady.
Abby raised an eyebrow and placed both her hands on her hips levelling him with a piercing gaze, quietly but clearly indicating that she wasn't buying it.
"He got shot because I didn't even know someone was pointing their damn weapon at me," Tony confessed quietly, shrugging as if unsure what else he could say.
He knew Abby could be just as stubborn as Gibbs, and just as unrelenting in her questioning; he could dodge her concerns if he truly wanted to, but to be honest, he was just glad that she didn't seem to hold any anger towards him and he felt he should reward her concern with some degree of honesty.
"If the bullet had hit just a little lower…" Tony said quietly, lost in thought as the 'what ifs' washed over him. He quickly looked at his hands; he had managed to wash the blood off him but he could still feel it there.
"Rodriguez shot him, Tony, and no one else; he's the bad guy…he's the one responsible for it all!" Abby stressed, prodding him in the chest with every word for emphasis. "Gibbs didn't save you to make you feel guilty, or to make you feel like you owe him; he did it because he wanted to, because not doing it would never have even crossed his mind. Just like if the situation was reversed, I know you'd have done the exact same thing."
And she did know that, with a certainty she hadn't expected.
"Yeah," Tony admitted, and though he unquestionably knew that it was true, he didn't know if he would ever feel comfortable knowing that someone would take that risk for him.
"Ok, so the gun Rodriguez used matches the slugs pulled from three out of our five dead Diablos; it seems like we've found our one-man clean-up crew. Also, there was some blood on the sleeve of his top that matched Henson. Did you guys ever find the head?" Abby asked.
"Not yet," Tony shrugged, glad to have changed the topic from an emotional minefield to work. "I can't say with any certainty that we ever will. The body was left there as a warning and the lack of a head gave that warning pretty eloquently, I think; I don't know where he would have gotten rid of it, but he wouldn't have risked carrying it on him for too long. Chances are that he either threw it into the Potomac or the spillway near the basketball court, or he hid it in one of the many empty buildings around that area."
"Well, we don't need it from an evidence point of view; the blood and the bullet striations would have been enough to convict him, you know…if he'd lived to see trial," Abby trailed off.
"Hey, you said it," Tony smiled wryly at her. "He chose his own way once he pulled that trigger at the Boss."
"Damn straight," Abby agreed. "Anyways…evidence brought from Aikers' address produced nothing conclusive, but…" she trailed off and held up a hand, forestalling Tony's complaints about the lack of evidence against him. "The clothes from his locker came back with trace amounts of heroin, the same composition of which was found on two of the dead Diablos, and there was blood spatter on his leg holster for his sidearm.
"The material is black and so the stain didn't show up to the naked eye, and I figured maybe he didn't think to clean that up all too carefully," Abby said smugly, brandishing the results in front of Tony's face. "This, together with Bradford's testimony, will go a long way towards putting Aikers behind bars."
"You are a genius," Tony said with a huge grin as he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead, wrapping her in a hug before pulling away.
"You're only just figuring that out now?" Abby said as she cocked her head to one side, pretending to be affronted.
"No, I figured it out pretty quickly, but every girl should feel appreciated," Tony offered with a suggestive wink.
"And I bet you know just how to do that," she purred back at him. She liked flirting with Tony; it was fun but entirely safe, as she knew that he did not feel that way towards her and would not pursue her even if he did, if only to save himself from the wrath of Gibbs.
"Of course," he grinned lasciviously. He flicked her pig-tails before heading towards the door. "I've got to go tell Gibbs what we know and find out what he wants to do about Aikers; the man has been sitting in one of our holding cells since last night."
"Can't say that bothers me," Abby shrugged.
"Me neither, but the sooner he confesses, the sooner I can go to sleep," Tony offered, the longing in his voice clear.
"Go see Ducky!" Abby ordered before pointing to her own forehead. "Gibbs will be angry if he finds out about that and the fact that you've not had it checked out."
"I'm fine," Tony insisted as he climbed into the elevator, pushing the button for the bullpen rather than for the morgue; he shouldn't disturb Ducky during the autopsy, after all.
"Men," Abby muttered to herself with disgust at the flippant way in which both Gibbs and Tony seemed to disregard their injuries. "So stupid!"
Tony was just packing a few files into his rucksack, readying himself for a debriefing with an injured Gibbs and worrying over which facet of the man's shining personality would be at the forefront, when he noticed the Director standing in front of his desk.
"Is there something I can help you with, Director?" Tony asked evenly and politely. He knew next to nothing about the man who had the final say on his career so he knew he had to tread carefully, but he was uncomfortable around the person who had ordered Tony's instructors to spy on him.
"Agent Gibbs will be ok," the man stated, rather than asked.
"Yes," Tony confirmed, and waited for more. When nothing else seemed to be forthcoming, he continued, "I was just on my way over to the hospital to give him a SitRep and find out what he wants to do with Aikers."
"What do you think we should do with Aikers?" Morrow asked curiously, interested to see what Gibbs' protégé would come up with.
"I don't think we're going to lose anything by letting the man stew in his holding cell for a little while longer," Tony revealed cautiously. He knew the man was testing him but at the same time, Tony wanted to uncover something about the Director; he wanted to know how hands-on the man was about his job and mostly he wanted some hint as to how the Director now viewed Tony after all that had happened.
To find out any of that he would need a direct approach with actual interaction.
"While he's in there worrying and getting more and more nervous about his future, we can finish securing evidence against him and make sure that all loose ends are tied up so that when we do get around to questioning him, he has nothing left to hide."
"Sounds like a sensible suggestion; I'm sure Gibbs would approve," Morrow nodded his own endorsement, and Tony was grateful to hear the sincerity in the man's voice and not one hint of sarcasm. "Is that why you haven't interviewed him yet?"
"Me?" Tony asked with surprise. "Aikers won't respond to me," Tony said with certainty.
"How can you be so sure?" Morrow wanted to know.
"Aikers' father is high up in one of the most powerful Cartels in Mexico; he's regularly been dealing with at least one other extremely violent man as well as his possible involvement with the death of five dead DC gangsters.
"On top of that, he's a Gunnery Sergeant with the US Marine Corps who has not only seen action but who didn't even bat an eyelid when he ordered Henson to execute another Marine in front of him. Something tells me that some Junior Agent from NCIS is not going to intimidate him into signing a confession," Tony explained.
Tony knew his strengths as well as his weaknesses and while he was a consummate undercover man with excellent acting skills, he knew no matter how intimidating he tried to be, Aikers would remain unaffected.
The GySgt had grown up surrounded by violence, and judging by the man's medical records some of that violence had been directed straight at him. The loss of life he undoubtedly saw in the war, coupled with what he could have seen or heard of his father's work during his youth, would most likely have numbed Aikers to a lot of life's little shocks.
Tony knew enough about psychology to know that one of the few things gained from an abusive childhood was the ability to read people extremely well; when the possibility of escaping broken bones and nasty bruises came down to only a matter of seconds, it became vital to learn to read the emotions and body-language of a would-be attacker with one look.
Aikers had obviously survived his childhood and was likely more than capable of reading through Tony's bluff as he tried to muscle the GySgt's way towards a confession.
Tony also thought that he was the wrong man for the job because he didn't want to risk the man seeing his empathy surrounding the Marine's very obvious Daddy Issues, and trying to use that against them.
He had tried hard throughout his own childhood to make his father proud through any means necessary, even doing things that he now deeply regretted even thinking about and he was still greatly ashamed of too many of his actions during his youth, some of which ended up with him up in a Military Academy and his father back in New York.
None of it mattered, of course; his father still told him he was going to end up in the gutter.
No, Tony had too many of his own Daddy Issues to even think of going down that path and risking it all being turned against him. Of course, Aikers seemed to lack even the most basic vestige of compassion, so Tony did not think he could use that approach to much effect anyway.
No, Aikers was a cold and ruthless criminal who did not deserve any quarter, no matter how small; Tony thought that even an injured Gibbs would be far more effective in achieving that aim and achieving it quickly and without incident.
"Yes, I suppose you raise a good point, Agent DiNozzo," Morrow nodded to himself. He hadn't missed out on the fact that DiNozzo had referred to himself as a 'Junior Agent' and that the slip was clearly indicative of the younger man's frame of mind; evidently he already thought of himself as a member of Gibbs' team.
Morrow was surprisingly ok with that.
He couldn't deny that he had immediately regretted giving Gibbs a carte blanche on creating his own team, worried about what kind of unit could form under the stern former Gunnery Sergeant.
DiNozzo had certainly been an interesting first-pick, but Gibbs seemed more than adamant about having the former Detective on his team; initially, Morrow had not seen the appeal.
There were commendations in the man's files, but there were also several reprimands too. That the man seemed to be a trouble magnet brought up its own issues; Gibbs was already far from being the most cautious of agents when it came to a choice between his own wellbeing and that of a successful outcome to the case, and it seemed as though DiNozzo would not be the man to curb that behaviour, but rather encourage it.
All in all, DiNozzo was too much of an enigma for Morrow to feel entirely at ease with Gibbs decision.
However, despite the scuttlebutt working against him, despite the conflicting nature of his personnel files, despite the demands of both Gibbs and NCIS, despite the difficult nature of the man's first real NCIS case, DiNozzo seemed to be doing well under the pressure.
He had not shown any signs of slowing down despite his own recent injury and Gibbs' current one; in fact, DiNozzo seemed to be thriving under a difficult set of circumstances that would find most people buckling under the pressure.
"Well, I won't keep you; I'm sure you've already realised that Agent Gibbs is not a man who likes to be kept waiting," Morrow said with wry amusement at the fervent nod he received in response. "You have an appointment with Dr. Barton this afternoon; protocol after an officer involved shooting, I'm afraid."
And he was, because he had already read the woman's initial psychiatric evaluation of the man; it was one very short paragraph about DiNozzo's reluctance to discuss much of anything with the woman.
Morrow had groaned out loud in his office as he discovered yet another trait that DiNozzo seemed intent on sharing with his new team leader.
Dr. Barton had promised to spend at least one other session with the former Detective, until she could get some reliable responses from him.
"Looking forward to it, Sir," Tony managed to say without too much sarcasm infecting his tone.
"I'm sure you are," Morrow muttered quietly to himself as he watched NCIS's latest addition wander towards the elevator.
It very much looked as though DiNozzo was in for the long haul, and Morrow wouldn't mind that quite so much if only he felt that he was not getting a younger, more reckless and certainly more verbose version of Gibbs.
Yep, the two of them together were sure to give him more than one headache.
"Gibbs," Tony greeted quietly, eyes drawn straight to the man's bound left shoulder.
The Senior Agent looked over towards the younger man and felt himself frown as he took in the picture before him. They had both been overdoing it, working long hours and pushing themselves ever onwards and upwards in an attempt to bring the smuggling ring to a close.
Still, the dark circles around DiNozzo's eyes seemed more pronounced than ever and the haggard nature of his clothing was unlike the young man, who seemed to be meticulous in all aspects of his appearance even when he was dressed down in a pair of jeans and a raggedy old Ohio State t-shirt.
What really drew his attention, however, was the small gash on the man's forehead; it was red and slightly swollen, looking painful and quite deep. Gibbs knew the injury had probably happened when he pushed the younger man out of the path of the bullet, but even though the corners of DiNozzo's eyes were pinched with pain, the injury was a small price to pay considering the alternative.
Gibbs knew that DiNozzo was still feeling guilty over the shooting, knew that if their situations were reversed he would be feeling the same way, but Gibbs wouldn't have changed the outcome if he was given the opportunity; he wouldn't have been able to live with risking DiNozzo's life by not acting.
"You finished at the scene?" Gibbs asked, hoping to get the man's attention off his injured shoulder and onto the case.
"Yep," Tony confirmed, finally meeting the older man's eyes. "Everything has been bagged and tagged and sent to Abby. Ducky has the body and has started the autopsy, although we all know what killed him," Tony shrugged, thinking that protocol could sometimes be ridiculously obsolete.
"Fornell?" Gibbs asked, aware that the man would not have subjected himself to the authority he had given Tony at the crime scene.
"On Aikers Watch," Tony informed him, accurately guessing where his mind had taken him.
"He interviewed him?" Gibbs demanded with a frown. He might trust Fornell a whole hell of a lot more than anyone else over at the Hoover Building, but that didn't mean he wanted the FBI Agent to run his interrogations, especially without him there.
"One of the few things he agreed to do was that he would not interview Aikers," Tony replied with a wry grin as he thought of the slightly antagonistic conversation they had shared about that particular point. Their working relationship was a lot better than the sheer hostility that had existed between them after Philadelphia, but they still had a long way to go before they could truly stomach working alongside each other.
Gibbs nodded, glad that DiNozzo had even thought of securing that guarantee from the FBI Agent; he doubted Fornell would have gone around him for the interview, but the man was not always as predictable as he sometimes appeared to be.
"Hand them over then," Gibbs gestured to the files. He had been stuck in the hospital for several hours while he was forced to recover his lost blood-volume. For once he was grateful for the time that seemed to take; while he was still feeling slightly drained and more than ready to sink into his own bed, the small break had allowed him something of a reprieve from the demands of the job and allowed him to collect himself.
He did feel a little guilty about leaving DiNozzo to sort out all the loose ends, but he was also curious to see how the younger man handled himself.
As he read through the files, he could see that DiNozzo had been very efficient, ensuring he had all the preliminary information at his fingertips.
"Good job, DiNozzo," he nodded in approval towards the younger man. He was not one for giving out praise unnecessarily, but he knew that DiNozzo needed a little pick-me-up after the day he'd had.
"Now you're going to tell me what Ducky said about that," he gestured towards the injury on the man's forehead.
DiNozzo, no matter how good he was at hiding his emotions from the crowd, could not hide the briefest of winces from passing across his face. Gibbs knew exactly what that had meant; the man had not winced because of the pain, but because he was being forced to admit that he had not gone to see Ducky or, most likely, any other medical professional about his second head injury in a matter of days.
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs said with exasperation.
"I've been busy," Tony shrugged. His head still throbbed and he was completely exhausted but that didn't mean he was going to willingly subject himself to any doctor's ministrations, even when that doctor was Ducky.
"You ok?" Gibbs asked, a little concern creeping in. He knew the younger man's unenthusiastic approach when it came to medical-care and he could only hope that DiNozzo at least had the sense to acquiesce when the situation warranted it.
"I'm fine," Tony insisted quietly.
'Fine, my ass,' Gibbs thought darkly to himself. He hadn't known DiNozzo for very long but he had already heard that one word more than enough.
"Well, get me out of here then," Gibbs demanded, as he seated himself up on his hospital bed, doing his best to ignore the wave of dizziness that passed over him.
"Sure, I'll go and get a nurse," Tony gestured towards the IV that needed to be removed, although he neglected to mention that he would be asking for a doctor's opinion first as to whether or not Gibbs was ready to be released from their care.
He failed to see the hypocrisy of the situation.
"Good, we've got a suspect to interview," Gibbs nodded.
"You do," Tony said sourly. "I've got a trip to the shrink all ready and waiting for me back at the Navy Yard," he scowled darkly as he left the room to look for assistance.
Gibbs tried to supress a grin at the man's reaction to that particular branch of protocol, before realising that he too would have his own trip in the very near future.
His scowl was far more impressive than Tony's.
Tony felt almost as crappy as he had done the last time he had been in Doctor Barton's office, but this time he was determined to give her nothing to write home about. He knew exactly what she, what all shrinks wanted; they wanted someone to admit to feeling anxious about the dangers of their job, and they wanted to hear about a healthy outlet.
They wanted to hear the inner workings of a well-adjusted individual.
Tony knew that he hid, very well, just how far he was from being well-adjusted, and he knew that Barton's office was not a place where he could afford to reveal that fact.
Tony had no problem with talking, but talking about personal matters to a total stranger was another matter altogether. However, he firmly pulled on his mask and he was prepared to give the good doctor a show.
He had told her that losing his mother had been sad but that he and his father had grown closer once it was just the two of them, taking the time from school and work to go on holiday together; he neglected to mention that the last time they went anywhere together, his father had forgotten him for two days in Maui hotel.
He talked about how he wanted to do his job well and how he wasn't sure if he would have stuck at it so long if it hadn't been for the support of his fellow officers; he neglected to mention the hostility that went well beyond the typical hazing of a junior officer.
He talked about generic concerns that every cop worried over: being shot in the line of duty, losing your partner, messing up on a case.
All in all, he gave plenty of information without ever actually revealing anything.
So far they had been talking for over fifteen minutes before the Doctor finally started to ask about his shooting back in Baltimore; Tony was sure it was only a matter of time before the conversation turned towards Gibbs' shooting.
"Yeah, I was pretty scared," Tony admitted with a distressed expression as he answered her question about how he felt to find a gun pointed at him.
He hadn't been.
Not really.
Not because he was ridiculously brave or completely suicidal, but because everything had happened so fast, and his first thought had been about the little girl in his arms, clutching at him as if he was all that was holding her together.
Tony didn't remember a lot from the actual shooting, but he could recall that the first time he had felt the tendrils of fear grabbing hold was when he struggled to pull in a breathe; his lungs flooded with blood rather than oxygen.
"You walk into this job knowing it is a possibility, but you never expect it to happen to you," Tony confessed truthfully.
"How did you cope with it all once you were well enough to have registered what happened?" Doctor Barton asked. She was happy to find the young man in front of her less antagonistic than he had been the last time he had been in her office; she was all too used to alpha personalities and their opinions about her profession that a cooperative patient was a welcome change.
"I had my former partner, Sam Jacobs; he really helped me get through everything," Tony explained, chancing an assessing gaze over towards the Doctor and glad to see that she seemed to be eating up his own balance of half-truths and deviations.
"Were you close?"
"He was a good partner and I learned a lot from him," Tony nodded with a genuine smile as he thought of his former partner. Of course, his real feelings about Sam Jacobs could not be so easily simplified, but he was not going to explain exactly what Sam had meant to him; she neither needed nor deserved to know just what he thought of Sam.
"Can you envisage a similar professional relationship with Agent Gibbs?" she asked curiously. She couldn't imagine anyone willingly choosing to work with the ornery man; she was certainly not looking forward to the Senior Agent's own session.
"I know he's a capable Agent," Tony said carefully, unsure of how much of what he said could get back to Gibbs; the man did seem to have the whole omniscient thing going on at NCIS. "He's already taught me a lot and I think there is still so much I need to learn; there's always something more you need to know when it comes to this job," he offered with a charming smile.
Alicia nodded, thinking to herself what a nice smile he had. She shook herself from her thoughts and asked about Gibbs' shooting.
"What do you say to a man who takes a bullet for you?" Tony finally asked a question that had genuinely been eating at him.
The questions were very much directed towards his emotions and Tony didn't have to fake his guilt over the incident, but he did hide just how much guilt he still carried, despite Gibbs' dismissal of it all.
"Well, Mr. DiNozzo," she said as she finally closed her notebook. "I think you seem to be handling it all very well; your concerns are all very understandable and nothing for you to feel ashamed of. I must say I'm impressed; I had been worried that I had another Agent Gibbs on my hands.
"Keep on talking things through with Agent Gibbs about the shooting, no matter how reluctant you both might be about opening up; I think it will do you both some good. I am more than happy to sign off on your evaluation and I will tell Morrow that you can return to fieldwork as soon as you feel ready and able. And Tony, please remember that I'm always here if you need me."
"I will remember that," Tony offered with a flirtatious smile, before getting to his feet and heading calmly towards the door while his inner monologue was full of self-congratulations as he thought about his success in getting the shrink to sign off on him despite all of his acting and half-truths.
Alicia Barton felt a small flutter in her stomach as the full DiNozzo charm was sent her way; the man had been polite and honest with her and his humour and smiles had done a lot to endear the young man to her.
She was sure the well-balanced man would have an excellent career at NCIS and started to write up her final report with words that stated as much.
If only Gibbs was going to be as easy…
So there you have it; please let me know what you think or if you spot any errors as while I do proof-read, I'm far from perfect.
I know a lot of you were pulling for Tony to get shot (a worrying amount actually…lol) but this story is examining the level of trust that seems to exist between the two, particularly how much faith Tony places in Gibbs. So Gibbs being the one to catch a bullet on Tony's behalf nicely fit in with that approach…sorry all Tony-whump fans! Remember, i did shoot Tony in my 'Baltimore' fic; in this one, he's still recovering from that and, of course, receiving the mandatory concussion or two!
M.E. – Medical Examiner.
EMTs – Emergency Medical Technicians, or…put simply, paramedics.
CSU – Crime Scene Unit.
FLETC – Federal Law Enforcement Training Centre.
SitRep – Situation Report.
GySgt – Gunnery Sergeant.
Next Up – Gibbs and Tony interview Aikers and set about wrapping up the case. Tony tries to sort out his new apartment and Gibbs and Morrow have a chat about Tony's future at NCIS. Gibbs uses his new found power as Tony's next-of-kin to make sure the younger man sees a doctor!