Saturday, 1531, Bethesda Naval Medical Center
Jeanne heard a commotion out in the hallway and got up to see what was going on. She saw Jimmy Palmer arguing with a nurse and man in an elegant suit. She walked down towards them and heard the acronym 'CIA.' Anger surged as she approached and she heard the man smoothly explaining to Marisol, the floor supervisor, that he had official business with Agent DiNozzo. Jimmy Palmer clearly wanted to speak, but the floor supervisor was listening to the CIA man while Ella, Tony's nurse, looked on anxiously.
"In his hospital bed?" Jeanne asked acerbically.
"The business is urgent," he replied, turning to face the new threat, brows furrowed.
Marisol raised an eyebrow. "Do you know this man, Dr. Benoit?"
"No, but I may know of him," Jeanne said. "Aren't you the man who visited NCIS today? I thought I saw you on your way out." It was a bald-faced lie, but she didn't think he'd catch her in it.
He blinked at her uncertainly, and she knew she'd struck well. "I was there, yes," he said slowly.
Jeanne turned to Marisol. "I'm reasonably certain that Agent Gibbs told this man that Agent DiNozzo was too unwell to be approached on whatever business it was he had."
"That's easily enough checked," Marisol said, walking across to the desk.
"Dr. Benoit, huh?" the CIA man asked, and Jeanne turned to him with a neutral look. "Interesting to see you here."
"Why?" Jeanne asked frankly, and was pleased to see that she'd stymied him. She gestured towards the desk where Marisol was on the phone. "Perhaps we should go and see what Agent Gibbs has to say?"
He walked over unwillingly, and Jeanne followed him with Jimmy Palmer close behind them. Marisol hung up the phone and turned to him. "Agent Preston, I'm afraid I'm going to have to deny you access to Agent DiNozzo."
"Agent Gibbs has no authority over me," Preston said.
"But he does have authority over Agent DiNozzo," she replied.
"This matter does not relate to his job. Agent Gibbs has no –"
"Agent Gibbs is Tony's medical proxy," Jeanne said. Preston broke off and stared at her. "You didn't know that, did you?" She turned to Marisol. "Is Agent DiNozzo on any narcotics?" Marisol nodded, a small smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "Well then, it's completely within Agent Gibbs' discretion to refuse to allow you to see him, and it's the hospital's responsibility to abide by his decision."
Preston glowered at her, picked up his briefcase, and left. Marisol nodded and said, "Ella, check on Agent DiNozzo." Then she bustled off to do her real work. Ella walked away towards Tony's door.
Jimmy turned to Jeanne. "Thank you. I wasn't making any headway."
"No problem," Jeanne said. "I –"
Ella emerged from Tony's room and went to the desk, looking worried. She picked up the phone and called the attending. Jeanne blinked at her, then turned around and went straight into Tony's room. She found him on his feet, bent over, glowering into a cupboard. His gown had fallen open at the back, revealing not only his butt but the overlapping, handprint-shaped bruises that were on his left buttock. She stared at them in shock. Portions were the dark blue and red of relatively new bruising, but others were green and yellow, clearly much older. They must have him sitting on ice packs. More bruising purpled his thighs. She realized suddenly that she was staring at his naked body without his knowledge and whirled. "Tony?" she said, and her voice sounded strangled.
She heard movement behind her and then he spoke. "Jeanne, what are you doing here?"
"Are you covered?" she asked, staring at the door. It was opening, and Jimmy stuck his head in.
"Yes, I'm covered!" Tony growled, and she turned around. His eyes widened, and she could see him realizing that there had to be a reason for her to ask. "Wait, I wasn't covered when you came in?"
"Why are you out of bed?" she asked, ignoring his question.
Tony huffed out an angry breath. "I'm getting the hell out of here. I already told Ella that I'm leaving, whether I have to release myself or not."
"I wondered, when she called your attending," Jeanne said. "She didn't seem urgent enough for it to mean something was wrong with you."
"Tony, I don't think Agent Gibbs will like it if you release yourself," Jimmy said, sounding uneasy.
Tony's expression changed. Briefly, he looked alarmed, but then he shook his head with an odd look of defiance in his eyes. "I'm going home."
"Tony, won't you at least listen to the doctor?" Jeanne asked. "If he says you should stay?"
Tony ignored her as if she hadn't spoken. "Jimmy, go find me some clothes, would you?"
"Um . . . sure," Jimmy said, and he left the room. Jeanne turned in surprise. Timid as he seemed to be, she'd have thought he'd stick more to his guns.
"Don't worry, Jeanne," Tony said, his voice acid, and she turned back around. He was glaring at the door sourly. He stood at a slight tilt, but she wasn't sure he realized it. "I just gave him the excuse he needed to run off and call Gibbs."
"Good," Jeanne said. While he was on his feet, she could see that he was having trouble keeping himself that way. "Now would you get back into bed? You can't leave without clothes, so there's no point in –"
"Why are you here?"
Jeanne broke off and shook her head. "I'm at the hospital because Agent Gibbs wants me out of his hair and in a place where Detective Harris can't go."
Tony stared at her, eyes widening, face going pale. "Gibbs is concerned that Brody might do something?" he asked.
"I'm staying with Ziva," Jeanne said, not sure if she should go into detail about why. She wanted to go to him, to put her arms around him and guide him back to his bed, but she resisted the urge, not sure how the action would be received. "Tony, please, at least sit down. You're swaying."
"But Abby said you and she were fighting." Jeanne could tell that Tony was struggling to stay upright, but she couldn't force him to lie down.
"Is Abby the forensic scientist with the exotic fashion sense?" Jeanne asked.
"Yeah," Tony said. His swaying grew more noticeable, and Jeanne gave in to her instincts.
Moving forward, she put an arm around his waist to steady him. "Damn it, Tony, stop being so manly and lie down."
He let her guide him to the bed, but when they got there, he pushed her away. "I can manage this on my own." She stepped back and turned away, wishing she knew what to say to him. "How long have you been in DC?" he asked.
"About three weeks," Jeanne said. She turned around slowly, hoping he was properly tucked in. He was, and she relaxed. In this position it was easier to pretend that she was concerned more for the patient in the bed than for the man she had loved.
"Why'd you come back?" he asked. "Last time you were here, you couldn't leave fast enough."
"I don't think now is the –" The phone on the bedside table rang. They both looked at it, but Tony made no move to answer it. "You want me to get that?" she asked after the second ring.
Tony shook his head and picked up the phone. "Hello?" His shoulders slumped. "I want to get out of here, Boss," he said. He shook his head. "I don't know, the doctor hasn't been in yet." His eyes darted towards Jeanne. "No, I'm not alone. Jeanne's in here with me. I haven't been alone for more than five minutes or so since you set Ducky on me yesterday." Tony scowled. "Fine, I'll stay until you get here." He glanced at Jeanne again. "He wants to talk to you."
Jeanne took the receiver and said, "Agent Gibbs?"
"Please tell me you're not burdening him with your issues right now," he said without any kind of greeting.
"No, I'm not," she replied, irritably. "I was just worried that he'd fall over if I didn't get him to lie down."
"How's he look?"
"Pale. I think he's hurting and not telling anyone."
"I am not!" Tony protested. "I'm not that kind of idiot." The remark make Jeanne wonder what kind of idiot he thought was.
The door opened and Dr. McLean came in. "His doctor's here," Jeanne said. Gibbs disconnected abruptly, and, blinking, Jeanne handed the phone back to Tony. Without even checking, he hung it up.
"I hear you want to leave us," Dr. McLean said to Tony.
"Is there a good reason for me to stay?" Tony asked.
"I think it would be smart to give us another night to observe you," he replied.
"So no," Tony said, crossing his arms. "My boss just told you that he needed me out of circulation for another day, and you went along with it."
"I've never met your boss," Dr. McLean said. "I'm not even primarily worried about the head injury. I'm concerned that your extensive bruising requires rest that you're not going to get if I send you home. Brad warned me about you."
"Brad's got a big mouth," Tony growled.
"One more night won't hurt you, Agent DiNozzo."
"For your doctor's peace of mind, Tony?" Jeanne put in. He glared at her, but she could see she'd gotten through.
Gibbs strode up the hall, right past Palmer, and opened the door to DiNozzo's room. Tony looked up and saw him, and he clapped his hands to his face, letting out a groan of dismay. Dr. Benoit look fondly exasperated. A plump man with a stethoscope turned to greet him with raised eyebrows. Gibbs presumed he was the attending physician for the shift. "Are you releasing him, doctor?"
"No, and I think we've got him convinced not to release himself." He raised an eyebrow in Tony's direction. "Right, Agent DiNozzo?"
Tony lowered his hands and glared sullenly at the man. "Sure. Fine. Whatever."
"Good. I'll be by later to check on you." He nodded at Gibbs and left the room. Tony turned to look out the window, clearly not wanting to meet Gibbs' eyes. Dr. Benoit looked up, and Gibbs was startled by the depth of worry and concern in her expression. Even during their earlier conversation, he hadn't quite realized just how strongly she still felt about DiNozzo. He'd known how DiNozzo felt about her – it was difficult to miss – but not how she felt about him.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Benoit. He needed to talk to DiNozzo himself, and the emotional minefield she brought with her wouldn't help much. She seemed to understand instantly. Reaching down, she squeezed DiNozzo's hand. "I'll see you later," she said.
DiNozzo turned back and looked up at her, the drugs making his emotions more naked than Gibbs had ever seen them. He grabbed her hand tighter before she could go. "Jeanne –"
"Not now," she said, squeezing again, smiling at him sweetly. "We can talk later."
His brows knit, DiNozzo released her hand and watched her leave the room. "DiNozzo," Gibbs started, but his agent interrupted him.
"What have you been doing?" he demanded.
"Investigating."
"Why? I thought I told you that I don't want –"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs said gently, and the younger man broke off. "I can't say I don't care that you don't want it investigated, but I can't let that stop me."
"Maybe I just need to talk to him again," DiNozzo said. "He's a good guy, I've just given him the wrong idea somehow. I need to –"
"DiNozzo, this is not your fault," Gibbs growled, and DiNozzo drew back, clearly startled. "He's done this before."
DiNozzo stared at him. "But there's nothing – no complaints, no reports, no –"
"And you were going to file a complaint, were you?" Gibbs asked, and DiNozzo's jaw dropped. "Preston told us –"
"Preston? He's an idiot!" DiNozzo shook his head. "You can't believe anything he said. He seems to think Brody's allied with some South American drug lord."
"I've got McGee and Ziva digging for the truth on that," Gibbs said. "Regardless, DiNozzo, behavior like Harris is exhibiting doesn't start suddenly out of nowhere."
"I screwed up," DiNozzo said. "Again. Jeanne would never even have thought about making up a story like she did about me before . . ." He shook his head. "I seem to have a really crappy effect on otherwise normal people. Brody just . . . I suppose I should be flattered that he wants me this badly."
Gibbs had to resist an urge to strangle DiNozzo. "Tony, should Abby have been flattered that Michael Mawher wanted her badly enough to write a suicide note for her?"
"Brody isn't Michael Mawher," DiNozzo snapped.
"Not far off," Gibbs said.
DiNozzo face shut down. He shook his head and rolled over on his side. "I need to sleep. I want to be alone."
"DiNozzo –"
DiNozzo looked up, eyes narrowed. "Alone, Boss, or as alone as I can be in a hospital."
Gibbs looked at the time and considered. "I'll be back with dinner in a couple of hours."
"Dinner?" DiNozzo repeated, looking up again, a friendlier expression in his eyes. "Real food?"
"Absolutely."
"Fine," DiNozzo said and looked away again.
Gibbs left the room and let the door fall shut behind him. Two hours, and then he was going to feed the man, and then he was damned well getting his answers. Palmer was hovering outside. "Go get me some coffee, and pick up some sandwiches."
"Sandwiches?" Palmer repeated.
Gibbs knew the boy had to be smarter than he came across at times, but his tendency to repeat requests got irritating. "Yes, Palmer," he said impatiently. "Sandwiches. DiNozzo, me, Dr. Benoit . . . got it?"
"Sure, I'll . . . I'll go get sandwiches." He darted down the hallway, went into the waiting room for a second, and emerged dragging the strap of a bag over his head. Gibbs followed more slowly and joined Dr. Benoit in the waiting room as Palmer disappeared into an elevator.
"Is Tony alone?" she asked, sitting forward.
"He's sleeping," Gibbs replied.
"Oh." She leaned back in her chair, her brows furrowed anxiously. "Did he fall asleep that quickly?"
Gibbs shook his head. "No, he asked me to leave him alone so he could sleep." She nodded and looked down at the magazine in her lap. Gibbs sat down and rubbed his forehead, trying to decide whether he should go away and come back or if he should wait in case DiNozzo decided he was ready for company again.
After a few moments, Dr. Benoit cleared her throat, and he looked over. "Is Tony's family coming?" she asked.
"His family?" Gibbs repeated.
"Well, isn't his father coming?" she asked, her brows knitting.
Gibbs considered his words carefully. "What did he tell you about his father?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Not a lot. He said his father was a retired military man who'd gone into business, and that he was hard but fair. We didn't talk family a lot, but I got the feeling they were close."
"What else did he tell you?" Gibbs asked.
She looked at him for a long moment. "It's not true, is it?" she asked. "His father isn't like that at all, is he?"
Gibbs grimaced. "He's in business," he said. "And he's hard."
She was silent for several moments, and then she sighed. "So, I guess his father isn't coming."
"His father doesn't even know he's in the hospital."
"Shouldn't someone tell him?"
"Nope." The idea of telling DiNozzo's father what had been going on was horrifying, and DiNozzo would never forgive him if he did.
She didn't seem to know what to say to that. Neither spoke for a while, and then she said, "Were you in the military, Agent Gibbs?"
"I was," Gibbs said, not sure where the question was coming from. "Marines."
"Oh." She didn't say anything else, and Gibbs wondered what she was thinking.