Hey folks! Sooo sorry for long delay! I've been writing my little tushy off for my new job, not only reviewing all my normal tv shows(Lie to Me, Memphis Beat, White Collar, Covert Affairs, Psych and The Gates)but also writing some opinion articles as well. Recently the staff was asked to do articles on each of our top 5 favorite tv shows of all time. My first article was about NCIS (of course!) so please feel free to check it out (the link to my page on their site is on my profile page here). You can also see all of the coverage I did for Comic-Con up there too, on shows like Castle, Hawaii Five-O, The Walking Dead and more.
Also I just got my new fall assignments and guess what people? In addition to reviewing a ton of great stuff (like Supernatural, Castle, Bones, Hawaii Five-O and lots more) I've been assigned to review NCIS! So now I'm doubly excited for the premiere on Tuesday September 21.
As you can see I've been pretty busy and, in a nice bit of irony, I got sick last week and was stuck in bed for a few days. A part of me thinks that somehow it was Tony figuring out a way to get back at me once he saw what I have in store for him in these next few chapters, LOL. But I'm doing better now and ready to get back to work on this story.
So with no further ado, let's get on with the show….
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Chapter Eleven
"Okay Comanche, you're in charge now."
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"Abigail, you really must stop doing that," Ducky said with a sigh, rubbing his thumb and forefinger across his brows and trying to massage the headache that had started to form behind his eyes.
"Doing what?"
"Pacing," Jimmy supplied helpfully.
"I'm not pacing," Abby replied, completely unaware that she had been walking back and forth across autopsy again and again, doing it once again even as she denied it. She'd been making the trip over and over across the tile floor ever since they'd hung up the phone with McGee and Ziva, and it was starting to drive Ducky to distraction.
"I don't know why you would think I was pacing, I don't pace. Pacing is what expectant fathers do in old movies, I would never…." Abby looked down at her feet, seemingly surprised by their errant behavior. "Oh."
"Not to worry, my dear. We're all worried about Anthony. I'm sure we'll hear something shortly."
Ducky's phone rang and he smiled at the young Goth reassuringly. "See? I'm sure that's some good news now."
Ducky picked up the phone but within a few seconds both Palmer and Abby could tell that it wasn't the good news they had hoped for.
"Jethro? Is that you? I can barely hear….what? Oh dear. All right, well the most important thing now to is to find shelter and get him out of the elements. What? Well yes of course I'd prefer him in a hospital but from what you've said he doesn't sound too bad….yet."
Abby and Palmer looked at each other worriedly at Ducky's tone in that last word.
"Just get him to the cabin and call me when you get there. What can you expect? Well, right now it's not much worse than a bad flu Jethro, but the symptoms of valley fever can vary greatly. He may experience much the same as he already has - the muscle aches, coughing and bloody sputum. But he could also have severe chest pains, develop a rash or get extremely sensitive to light and possibly even experience a change in his mental status. Frankly I'm most worried about the fever part of "valley fever". A fever is usually not too worrisome, but without the means to get it down it could lead to dehydration, which is quite dangerous. Basically Jethro, it's not the disease you have to worry about, it's all of the symptoms that come with it and the inability to treat them. So just keep him warm and dry and he should be fine until help arrives."
Ducky hung up the phone and looked at the two younger people staring at him expectantly. The conversation with his old friend didn't do a lot to alleviate his own worry about Tony but he wasn't about to frighten Abby and Palmer, so he put on his most reassuring smile before giving them an update.
"There's been a slight change of plan…"
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Gibbs pressed the disconnect button on the sat phone and stuck it back in his saddle bag. He had decided to get Tony back to Dina's cabin. There was no other choice now that a chopper was out of the question. The stable on the outskirts of town was another day away, at least, but with any luck they could make it back to the cabin by nightfall. It wouldn't be a hospital but Gibbs was hoping that the storm would blow over by morning and then the promised chopper would be able to come get them…..it had to.
Only trouble was that no matter how fast they rode, they were never going to beat the storm. Gibbs had toyed with the idea of tearing off at breakneck speed but quickly decided it was a bad idea. First off it wouldn't get them back to the cabin before they got soaked anyway and second of all, he didn't think Tony could stay aboard a galloping horse considering how he was barely staying on a walking one. They were going to get wet, no two ways about it, then Gibbs would just get the other man inside as quickly as possible, stoke up a nice fire and wait it out. It wasn't the perfect place to deal with a sick man, but it was a damn sight better than being outside in the elements.
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Tony hadn't thought he could feel any worse than he did before they left D.C., but his body was taking great pleasure in informing of just how wrong that assumption had been. He couldn't even believe that a mere couple of hours ago he'd been happy as a clam, singing his heart out and able to ignore the lingering pains that had plagued him for weeks. Then he'd felt a little worse but the promise of a helicopter ride to someplace warm had kept his hopes up. He'd known that a hospital stay was also in his future too but if it meant a warm bed and feeling better (not to mention a hot nurse or too), Tony had been willing to suffer through it.
Of course all of that had been before The Storm of The Century had decided to bust in on the party. "TSTC" (funny how so many of the crappy things in his life were earning acronyms these days) had had dropped in, probably a friend of TFTWNQ, and decided to have a little fun too.
Now he was cold, riding in biting winds that were bringing the promise of torrential rains with every passing moment, and he felt worse than ever. His body had apparently grown sick and tired of pushing through and it was done fighting. Barely able to keep his head up as they rode mile after mile, Tony was only aware of every step that his horse took under him, and not much else.
Well that, and the fact that he hurt.
Every time he tried to take a deep breath, his chest ached. When his chest wasn't aching, his lungs were burning. When his lungs weren't burning he was coughing, which usually started the whole process over again.
In addition to that it felt like every major muscle he had was being torn slowly apart. These weren't the usual muscle aches that came from the flu. Oh no, these were much worse. Staying upright in the saddle was getting harder and harder as his legs twitched and pulsed in pain.
So Tony kept his head down, following Gibbs wherever he led them. He didn't have the strength or the brainpower left to question the other man, not that he would anyway. Gibbs had said they were instituting Plan B and Tony wasn't sure what that was but anything sounded better than the way he felt. Even if a chopper couldn't make it, Tony knew that if anyone could get them back to civilization, it was Gibbs.
On his own horse, Gibbs snuck a glance over at his senior field agent and felt his jaw clench at what he saw. Every time he looked over at the other man, Tony seemed worse than before.
So they rode on. Every once in a while, Gibbs would check on his companion, reassuring himself that Tony was still somewhat with him. Whenever he saw the man's eyes glaze over and his head droop, he would reach across and touch Tony's arm.
"Hey DiNozzo, stay with me, we're almost there."
'Almost there' was pretty much a bold-faced lie. Gibbs had been saying it each time he pulled Tony back from unconsciousness and it was only slightly truer every time he said it. He just hoped that it was helping Tony stay focused enough to keep his tenuous hold on consciousness. How the man was staying upright in the saddle Gibbs didn't know, though he was grateful. If worse came to worse he would pull Tony over to his horse and hold him up himself if he had to. Maybe in a western, an unconscious man would be thrown belly down over his horse's saddle and led, Gibbs wasn't about to let that happen. Listening to the way Tony was coughing, Gibbs doubted that the position would do any good for him.
As he laid his hand on Tony's arm to shake him awake again, Gibbs felt the shivers running through his body as the sun began to set and a few raindrops began to fall. Knowing that he should keep Tony as warm as possible, Gibbs stopped the horses and grabbed his bedroll from the back of his saddle. Pulling Tony's horse closer, he draped the wool blanket around the other man's shoulders. Tying together the strings that had held it to the saddle, he made a rope long enough to lash it kimono-style around Tony's waist.
Then, reaching into his pockets, Gibbs pulled out his gloves. "Tony, give me your hands."
Mutely, Tony offered up both of his hands to his boss, not asking why and simply trusting that the other man had his reasons.
As Gibbs grappled with Tony's nearly lax fingers, thoughts of Kelly once again came to mind. Pulling and tugging the gloves into place he remembered many a morning of wrestling with a wriggling toddler who was ready to go in the snow, whether her father had put on her gloves or not. Once the gloves were on, Gibbs got the horses moving again, taking a look over his shoulder to make sure that Dina's mount was still following behind them.
A little while later the rain continued to fall lightly as Gibbs looked up in relief, recognizing the rock formation up ahead. They were near the river they had to cross on the way to Dina's cabin. Following sedately behind their horses, Dina's horse perked up its ears as they approached the shallow river.
"You know we're getting close, don't you Comanche?" Gibbs said to the animal, remembering that Tony had asked for its name from Dina before they left, not wanting the task of making up another one. Gibbs had worked with animals a long time and knew they recognized their homes and other locations they visited a lot. He didn't find it odd at all that the horse would know exactly where they were going.
But instead of pulling forward as he would have expected, Gibbs was surprised when the animal slowed down, causing Gibbs to have to tug gently on the lead rope. Leading two horses wasn't that complicated, but when one held a man who was barely conscious and the other was backing off like a stubborn mule, the job became harder.
"Hey, get up!" Gibbs called out with authority and soon the horse moved forward again. Unsure what would make the beast slow down when they were nearing its home, Gibbs shook his head and led them around the large rocks to the place where they'd crossed the river earlier. The going was much slower than he'd like with Comanche still baulking and as they got closer, Gibbs finally figured out what the animal's trouble was.
"Whoa!"
All three horses stood stock still and stared as Gibbs stared with them. The river, which had earlier been barely knee-high, was now a raging torrent.
In the mountains high above, the rains had already started falling and though only a few drops had fallen where Gibbs was, there was a downpour miles away. The rain had swollen the river at the mountaintop and now it was running through the valley with no signs of slowing down. In fact, with the rain heading Gibbs' way, it was only going to get worse.
Plan B had now turned into Plan C.
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It took Gibbs a few seconds to recover from the sight of the river that very nearly could have been the death of them all. If he'd been plowing ahead like he'd wanted to, he may not have been able to stop the horses in time and all would have been dunked into the cold water. Silently blessing the instinct of animals that knew better than he about their own environments, Gibbs quickly backed them away from the water and reached for the sat phone. He was going to need some help.
As he tried dialing, Gibbs could see the screen of the device glowing in the ever increasing dark and was dismayed to see the words "no service" come up. Considering the storm that was headed their way, it wasn't a surprise but it was still damn inconvenient. Looking over at his partner, Gibbs felt his chest tighten with new worry as Tony's head lolled on his shoulders. With no chopper coming and no way to get to the only real shelter he knew of in the area, how exactly was he going to keep the other man dry and warm as Ducky had suggested?
Looking around, Gibbs saw nothing but darkness. The sun had finally set, leaving him alone with three animals and a very sick man. He was starting to think hard about what to do next when he felt a tug on the lead rope connected to Comanche.
"Whoa, easy," he said distractedly, still trying to think of a new plan. When the animal tugged again, he felt the insistence behind the motion. It was as if the horse was purposely trying to get him to move somewhere, and that's when the light came on in Gibbs' head.
Dina rode through this area all the time, the cabin was her second home and where she often liked to create her art. Chances were that she and Comanche had been caught in just such a predicament before and maybe, just maybe, the animal knew where to go. Taking a chance, Gibbs loosened the lead rope and gave the horse its head to go where it wanted.
"Okay Comanche, you're in charge now."
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A/N: I just wanted to quickly mention that for any of you who are also fans of Laine3112 (and who wouldn't be? She's a fantastic author), you might want to go to my profile page and follow the link to my fanfiction blog. Laine did an absolutely brilliant guest post about the subject of reviews and it's incredibly insightful not only as an author but as a reader as well. Also I highly recommend that you check out her current story, called "Mistaken Identity". She is currently going through some more medical issues and once again I find myself in awe of the fact that she can do that while producing such great work. My hat's off to you again, my dear.