A/N: Mostly Tony/Gibbs father/son bonding this time, and I think it turned out a bit more angsty than what I usually write. Still don't own 'em, still not making any money off this. I just write the kind of stuff I like to read. I hope you enjoy this chapter. –abby
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After Tony collapsed, Gibbs did the best he could to make the injured man comfortable. Unfortunately it wasn't much. With his hands bound, the lead agent could not even remove his windbreaker to keep Tony warm. He arranged the younger man across his lap, using his thighs as a cushion and hoping that his own body heat would help fend off the chill. It was getting late, and the warehouse was becoming very cool as the sun went down. Gibbs had worried that once it was dark outside they would have no source of light, but to his surprise a couple of dim overhead lights switched on at dusk. Maybe this warehouse isn't as abandoned as it seems, he mused.
Gibbs sighed as he looked at his watch. They had been locked up for several hours already, and he knew that anything he could do for Tony was cursory at best. The senior field agent needed medical attention sooner rather than later. Tony, I swear, you require more looking after than anyone I've ever known. He smiled ruefully, remembering a long-ago conversation with the younger man. Loyal as a Saint Bernard, maybe, but also needy as a lost puppy. The memory faded and Gibbs' ice blue eyes hardened as he thought, I'll get you out of this. Your own father might not care about you but I sure as hell do.
It suddenly occurred to the lead agent that he had yet to thoroughly examine their prison. He had been so busy trying to keep Tony awake and talking that he hadn't done more than a quick visual inspection of the small storage room where they were being held.
Gibbs slowly shifted DiNozzo off of his lap, gently supporting the younger man's head as he eased it to the ground. Once Tony was settled, Gibbs struggled to his feet and began walking the perimeter of the tiny room, inspecting every nook and cranny of the filthy space. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for, but figured anything could be useful – a shard of glass or metal he could use to cut their bindings, or something to use as a weapon against their captor. He had already ruled out escape – the room had only one entrance, which was closed off by a huge fire door that bolted from the outside. The single window was completely inaccessible and not an option at all.
Gibbs had almost finished surveying the room when his attention was pulled back to DiNozzo. His agent was weakly coughing, and Gibbs turned Tony on his side just as he began to heave and retch. Gibbs again rubbed the younger man's back to try and settle him a bit. Once DiNozzo quieted and his breathing evened out, the lead agent returned to his inspection.
Finally he was rewarded with the discovery of the tip of a huge nail that was jutting out of the wall near the door. It took almost ten minutes but after some effort Gibbs managed to free himself of the thick plastic. The zip-tie gave with a loud snap and the lead agent gratefully rubbed and flexed his wrists to get the circulation going once more.
He wanted to free Tony's hands too, but didn't see how that was possible unless the younger man became cognizant enough to help out a little. There was no way Gibbs could balance DiNozzo's dead weight and work on the tough plastic without causing further injury. Gibbs sighed and massaged his tingling hands. He hated the helplessness he was currently feeling, and fervently hoped that Ziva and Tim were having more luck than he and Tony.
Just then, DiNozzo started to moan in his sleep. He began thrashing weakly, clearly in the throes of an unpleasant dream. "No...I'm sorry..." Tony's soft voice was filled with remorse and pain. "Don't! Please, I'm sorry!" His thrashing became more frantic, and his cries of distress louder.
Gibbs quickly crossed the small room and gently grasped the younger man by the shoulders as he knelt down by his side. "Shh, Tony. It's okay, I've got you," he soothed quietly. "It's Gibbs, do you hear me? I've got your six." To his great surprise, Tony calmed almost at once and slowly opened his green eyes.
"Boss?" the words were quiet, but for the moment DiNozzo actually seemed coherent. "What happened?"
Gibbs wasn't exactly sure if Tony was referring to the nightmare or if he was again confused by their situation. He decided on the former and carefully replied, "You were having a nightmare, I think. How ya doing?"
Tony closed his eyes briefly, assessing his condition. "I'm…alive. That's good, right?" came the slow response.
"Yeah, that's good." Gibbs chuckled, again amazed at his senior field agent's ability to retain a sense of humor in any situation. He gently squeezed Tony's shoulder before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"What's to talk about? My father is a bastard that is going to get us killed, that seems to about sum it up." Tony sounded far more bitter than Gibbs had ever heard him, but the older man figured he had a right to be. For now the lead agent wisely decided to change the subject.
"How about getting your hands free? You feel like you can get up?" Gibbs indicated the far wall. "There's a nail over there that I used, but it will take some doing. We can try if you think you're up for it."
Tony nodded almost imperceptibly. He rolled onto his stomach and drew his knees underneath his chest for leverage. The movement unfortunately brought on a new wave of nausea and pain. Tony gasped and pressed his forehead into the dirty warehouse floor, trying to quell the sick feeling. Dark spots were again dancing at the edges of his vision when he felt strong hands grab him under the arms, gently assisting him upright. Tony leaned gratefully into the support his boss provided, allowing the other man to practically carry him across the room.
Once they made it over to the nail, Gibbs eased Tony back down onto the floor and asked, "You ready? Do you need a few minutes?" DiNozzo was breathing heavily but managed to sit upright without support.
"No, do it." Tony offered his shaking hands toward Gibbs, who looked worriedly at his subordinate before getting to work on the zip-tie. Luckily he was able to cut through the plastic much faster than before, so DiNozzo was free in a matter of moments. Once finished, Gibbs carefully helped his agent to scoot back and lean against the wall.
"I'm going to check on your wrists, okay?" At Tony's quiet agreement, Gibbs gently pushed back the now-dirty bandages covering DiNozzo's bloody wrists. As he examined them, Tony took a deep breath that was punctuated by a cough. When the senior field agent spoke, his voice was almost a whisper.
"He never cared." Tony closed his eyes, remembering. He sounded sad as he weakly continued, "He put up with me until my mother died…then I was just…in his way."
Gibbs settled himself against the wall so that his shoulder touched DiNozzo's. He patted Tony's knee gently even as he mentally cursed the man's father. "You have people that care about you now. Not all families are bound by blood, you know," the lead agent said earnestly. He was never comfortable having touchy-feely discussions, but Tony needed to know how valued he was, not just to Gibbs himself but to the rest of the team.
"I know," came the soft reply. The senior field agent was clearly fading out again, but before he fell asleep Tony gathered all of his remaining strength and looked the older man in the eye. "Thank you, Boss. For caring…what happens to me. You're the first person that ever did." And with that, Tony's eyes slipped closed and he slumped against Gibbs, head coming to rest on the lead agent's shoulder.
Gibbs carefully maneuvered DiNozzo into a more comfortable position on his own lap and covered the younger man with his windbreaker as he thought, It's always been my pleasure, Tony. I just wish your father could see in you what I do.
The lead agent sat there, Tony's head resting on his thighs, for the next several hours. He allowed his mind to drift, but was careful to stay awake in case their captor were to return. Gibbs periodically looked down to check on his unconscious agent, whose coughing fits were increasing in frequency. Suddenly, the older agent's thoughts were interrupted by the squealing of tires. The warehouse had been fairly quiet all evening but suddenly there was an unbelievable commotion. Gibbs held his breath and listened closely to the racket outside, hoping against hope that help had finally arrived.