It was the weekend.
Two blessed days without Rachel Cranston cracking his head open like a walnut.
He woke in the early morning, hearing Gibbs getting ready to go out for a run. He thought about going too...but just wanted to savor the feeling of being free to do nothing but sleep.
Therapy the previous day had drained him beyond measure. McGee and Ziva, and Abby, had all come by to see him after, but he was simply too exhausted to talk much. They stayed a while, talking in lowered voices, as Tony fell asleep on the couch with his head in Abby's lap.
He felt bad, that they wanted him to be back to normal so badly. They couldn't mask some of the hopefulness falling from their faces, when they saw the state he was in again.
He heard Gibbs gently telling them to be patient, that it was going to take a little more time.
He even felt a tear fall on him, as Abby stroked his hair while he drifted off.
They were his family. They needed him. He hated feeling that he was disappointing them.
When Abby finally nudged him, Gibbs was there to help him stumble back into bed in the guest room, as he heard them say their goodbyes.
He wondered if today he would continue to disappoint everyone, by still being crazy.
He rolled over and closed his eyes.
He was running again on the beach, away from the giant bird. He cast a glance behind him...the sound of the surf rolling in was mixed with the subtle sound of the whispering voices.
The sea itself was a dark crimson.
A sea of blood.
Above him, the giant seabird was closing in. He saw dozens in the sky above it.
He ran faster, feeling the shadow of the bird falling over him.
Just as it was about to slash at his back with it's beak, he slid and shimmied into a small cave opening.
The bird shrilled angrily from outside.
He was safe from its clutches.
He backed away from the entrance, panting, into the cave.
It was dark, with mostly rock and sand covering its surface. But there was something else.
A little further down, something orange caught his eye.
He walked carefully through the cave, trying to keep his footing over the uneven and shadowed terrain.
As he approached he saw what it was...an orange door.
He put his hand on the handle...hesitating.
Would it be safe to open it?
He looked back to the mouth of the cave, where the giant bird was pecking and scrabbling at the rock...trying to get in...
Better to take the chance with the door.
He turned back and opened it, quickly stepping inside, and closing it behind him.
The sounds of the bird disappeared.
He sighed in relief. But now he heard something behind him.
As he turned, he saw a chillingly familiar sight - the storage locker, and it's nightmarish equipment...and Kort.
The whispers came rushing in louder.
He put his hands to his head for a moment, covering his ears in the attempt to stop them.
Suddenly, he was on the floor again, Kort approaching him with the hypodermic while he tried to scramble away.
His heart was racing.
His back hit the hard doorframe.
Kort was smiling sickly at him...but he saw a blur...like a staggered ghost over Kort...Stratton...
It was almost like Stratton was getting clearer... as Kort seemed to be fading.
He was terrified of Stratton bringing the needle down, knowing he would wake up naked and bound to the chair or hanging from a hook, and as he scrabbled and clawed unconsciously for anything to defend himself with.
His fingers reached something cold and metallic beside him.
As Stratton leaned down, placing the needle at his neck, he saw just a flash of Kort, grinning malevolently, and took the item in his hand and jammed it into the man"s good eye.
There was no scream, only a shocked gasp from the man as he fell to the floor, and Tony, in his fear and anger jumped at the chance to pick up the metal rod and jam it in several more time, making sure he was dead.
He backed away, with blood and gore on his hands, but as he sat back, the body moved.
Kort sat up, pulling out the rod, with his bloody destroyed eye socket and patch, and laughed.
He sat up, sweating, gasping, and looking around the room, whispers dying out with the dream, echoing in his mind.
He felt sick, the gory eye socket mocking him in his mind, and flipped back the covers to get out of bed.
As he walked into the hallway on shaky legs, Gibbs happened to see him on his way in from the run.
Immediately, Gibbs could see Tony looked off.
"DiNozzo," he caught up to him quickly as he was heading toward the downstairs bathroom.
Tony turned to him, looking green, and without warning proceeded to vomit on Gibbs' best running shoes.
Gibbs put a steadying hand on him, as he leaned down with his hands on his knees, seeing the cuffs of his flannel pajama pants now also soiled with some of it.
""Ahh…sorry, Boss…" Tony said weakly, not believing he had just puked on his superior. Well, it wasn't the first time he'd puked on someone – but usually, there was at least an interesting story to go with it. And it wasn't the Boss.
This was just sad.
"Good morning," Gibbs said sourly, "to you too, DiNozzo."
It took a little time for Gibbs to clean all of the mess up, but once things were under control he knocked on the bathroom door, noticing Tony had been in there a while.
"You okay?" Gibbs asked.
The door swung open.
"Other than completely humiliated at this point, I'm just peachy," Tony said in an irritated tone, looking at him blandly. As he left the bathroom, Gibbs noticed he was fully dressed, in jeans and button down shirt.
He walked into the living room, putting shoes on.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow, leaning on the doorway of the kitchen.
"Goin' somewhere?"
"Yeah. Why? I didn't think I was under house arrest anymore."
Gibbs got a little angry at the response.
"You're not. But, you also still recovering-"
"So I have to tell you every time I go somewhere?" Tony sat up, looking at him with almost a dare in his eyes.
Gibbs noticed, the still somewhat dark shadows under Tony's eyes, and the pale face they were set in.
He softened a little.
"No. You can do whatever you like. But…I…just wanna make sure you're okay, Tony."
He felt all the air let out of his anger. Gibbs was not giving him the fight he needed to steel his determination. He'd hoped to leave angry, letting that fuel him to the confrontation he was headed to.
Suddenly, he felt like an asshole.
Gibbs had been saving his life, keeping him from falling off the edge of the world. He knew without the man, who was more like a father to him than his own, he would have already perished.
"I... wanna' go back to the storage locker." He looked away, immediately taking in the surprise on Gibbs' face.
Gibbs shifted on his feet, rubbing his chin for a moment, thinking.
"You sure you wanna' do that today, after the week you've had?" Gibbs was concerned that this might be something they needed Cranston around for, but, he also felt really proud of Tony. He knew the younger man was trying to face his demons, trying to put himself together again. Not many people had that kind of courage.
Tony nodded, looking up at him.
"Ok. I'm coming with you. But…I think I need a different pair of shoes…"