Tony opened his eyes slowly.
Hospital. Again. Great.
But why? He struggled to remember.
As he opened his eyes wider, blinking, he noticed Gibbs, in a chair next to his bed, asleep.
The Boss was snoring slightly, head tipped back, making Tony smile a little.
From the little bit of light coming into the room, he gathered it was very early.
He moved a little, rubbing his face and coming across a bandage along his jawline.
And then it started to come back.
Leaving...no, sneaking, out of Gibbs' house… the man he found talking about him on his phone in a van. The drive to the storage locker… and...Kort.
The storage locker...and Kort...
Filled with equipment, to… Kort was going to...torture him…
Tony started to breathe a little more rapidly, remembering the items in that room and Kort coming at him with a needle...
And then...Stratton ? Was he...alive? No. No, he was dead.
He sat up a little, confused and knowing he must have some things wrong.
What if he was in the hospital...because none of it was real?
Was the cut on his jaw real?
He was tired, and miserably bewildered.
Why couldn't he think clearly?
Was he in the psychiatric ward?
His breath started hitching, as all the fear came rushing in.
He leaned into his hands, trying to choke back the moan of despair rising from his throat.
He felt the bed dip next to him, and arms pulling him in. A hand gently pushed his head against a solid chest.
Gibbs rested his chin on top of Tony's head, rubbing just behind his ear in an attempt to soothe him.
He knew Tony would be very confused and disoriented, after they brought him in and sedated him last night.
Tony started to gasp and hiccup slightly into Gibbs' sweater, clutching at him desperately.
"I...I wish I knew, for sure ..you were real, Boss..."the words were sobbed out, filled with pain and sadness. "I feel like…I went down a rabbit hole…I can't find my way back…"
Gibbs held him more tightly.
"I've got you," he said in a murmuring voice. "It's okay, Tony, it's just gonna take time. We're all gonna help you get back. I promise."
After a while, Tony's shaking started to ease up, as Gibbs continued to reassure him, stroking his head and looking out the window at the sunrise.
Tony's hands loosened their grip, and slid, lazily down to the bed while his breathing evened out.
Gibbs released him slowly back down, his head dipping to the side before arriving back on the pillow,
He had fallen back into an exhausted sleep.
Gibbs looked at the pale, sleeping face, eyelashes still a bit wet.
He took a shaky breath and then sighed, resting his hand for a moment on his friends.
"We've got a lot of work to do…but I'm not goin' anywhere, DiNozzo."
It was another silent ride back to Gibbs' house.
Tony was extremely pale and withdrawn. He still responded when addressed, but offered no more than asked.
Vance agreed McGee could take Tony's statement later from Gibbs' house, and expressed to Gibbs in a subtle way, his pleasure that Trent Kort was dead.
Gibbs was glad he was dead. And wished he could have killed Kort himself.
He knew Tony was on that ship, and told no one, leaving him to be tormented and hurt by Stratton and Latham.
The fact that Kort was going to try and use Tony that way again…it was sick. It made Gibbs' blood boil.
He tried to shake off thoughts of Kort, and focus on Tony. Gibbs made sure he had a visit scheduled with Rachel Cranston the next morning.
Tony fell asleep on the couch, as soon as they got in, and Gibbs left him alone. He would need to wake him in an hour when McGee came for the statement.
Gibbs' cell rang.
"Gibbs."
"Tony is almost kidnapped again, he kills Trent Kort, and no one thinks it is important to call me?" Ziva sounded genuinely irritated.
"Hello Ziva," Gibbs said, smiling to himself a little, anticipating the inquisition.
"Gibbs. Really. Why did you not-"
"It all happened too fast, and then we had to get Tony to the hospital. Besides, you're still on medical leave, Ziva, you couldn't have helped us."
"Gibbs. It does not matter. Tony is my partner too and I-"
"Yes," Gibbs said, not exactly apologizing, but knowing she needed to hear it, "someone should have called you."
She paused then, running out of steam.
"Well, McGee said… he was not badly injured. Is he alright, Gibbs?"
He frowned.
"Physically, yes. But…no he's not okay. He will be, Ziva, in time."
She was silent for a while.
"I…I will come later to see him. And you. Gibbs."
He knew she was very concerned, and frightened. And needed him to reassure her.
"Bring dinner," he said, before hanging up.
Just then, he heard a whimper from the couch.
Tony was twitching a little, breath a bit shallow, no doubt caught in an unpleasant dream.
About what? Gibbs thought sadly. Stratton torturing him? Kort 's sick collection of tools? Or maybe just a lovely re-run of Barrett or O'Shea's deaths ?
He shook Tony gently, "Hey. DiNozzo."
Tony's eyes opened quickly, and he furrowed his brow, looking at Gibbs.
He didn't say anything, just stared at him with watery eyes.
"You okay?" Gibbs asked quietly.
Tony looked down and nodded slowly. Then he seemed to settle back, still not looking back to Gibbs.
After a moment, Gibbs walked back into the kitchen, sensing Tony wanted to be left alone.