CHAPTER 4

Gibbs was pissed. Hell, he was beyond pissed. After all the shit he'd been put through, the poking and prodding, the damned tests and exams, half of which seemed completely unnecessary, the surgeon finally showed up, only to inform him that he didn't need surgery after all.

Gibbs bit back the caustic comment that he could have damned well told them that, right at the start, and settled for a growl and a glare. He reined in his temper, telling himself that now he was free to seek out Tony, and that scaring the hospital staff wasn't going to get him what he needed. It wasn't easy, but Gibbs did some deep breathing, and after locating a fresh pot of rich, black coffee in the doctor's lounge, he was in a far better frame of mind.

After being manipulated by various technicians and physicians over the past few hours, his arm was aching so badly it felt like it was on fire. A nurse gave Gibbs a shot for pain, and fitted him with a sling that bound his left arm close to his body and held an ice pack in place. Even though the sling was uncomfortable, he did feel better now that his arm was immobilized. It took a little while, but the injection started to work by the time Gibbs was handed the release form. He scribbled his signature so hard that the ballpoint pen tore the paper, accepted a prescription for pain meds, and then went off in search of Tony.

Of course the people at the main desk wouldn't tell him where Tony was, or even if he was still at Bowie Community Hospital. Irked and frustrated beyond words, Gibbs took matters into his own hands. After all, he'd been an investigator for many years, so he would damned well investigate, he thought, as he strode down the long corridors. Gibbs started by locating the nurse with all the curly hair, the woman he'd seen taking care of Tony when they'd first been brought in. He was prepared to wheedle the truth out of her, to lie, and even strong-arm her, if that's what it took to extract the information he needed. Hell, he'd even pull out all the stops and attempt to be charming, although he doubted he'd be too successful at it, given his impatience and level of pain.

The nurse, Ramona, took the wind out of Gibbs' sails by blithely tucking a stray curl behind her ear, and giving him directions. "Take a left out of the elevator to Five West. Don't go right or you'll end up in the psych ward," she said, with a touch of humor in her eyes. "You didn't hear it from me."

"No, ma'am."

Now, as Gibbs approached the double doors leading to Five West, he knew why she'd given up Tony's location so easily. It was a private wing, complete with a large man behind a large desk, wearing an expensive suit and a stern expression. Bret Beezley, Security, as his nametag identified him, politely yet firmly told Gibbs, "Sorry, sir, can't allow you in." Nothing Gibbs said would sway the man, though Beezley did agree to call Fornell, and would "Mr. Gibbs please take a seat over there," he said, pointing to a nearby couch.

While Gibbs stood to one side – damned if he was going to let a security guard make him sit down – he kept busy, thinking of ways to circumvent the watchdog in order to get to Tony. A weapon and a badge would have come in handy, as would McGee's skill at hacking into the hospital's computer system to allow Gibbs entry to the VIP wing.

Just as Gibbs was getting mad enough to seriously think about taking the guard by force, Fornell emerged from the private wing. As soon as he saw Gibbs waiting with a scowl on his face, Fornell grinned, and nodded at the sling Jethro was wearing. "I see they got you all trussed up."

Gibbs grunted. "It's got an ice pack. Thought they'd never finish the damned tests. They made it worse by jerking my arm around."

"What's the damage?" asked Fornell. He seemed sincere in his concern, but then they'd known each other for over 20 years now, and had both done their share of visiting each other in the hospital.

"Ah…Same old thing. I just need ice. Rest." Gibbs still hadn't figured out how he was going to take care of half a dozen horses with torn shoulder muscles and sutures in his back. He was lucky that the torn muscles weren't severe enough to require surgery – at this time – but he didn't heal as quickly as he did when he was younger. "I want to see Congressman DiNozzo," he said flatly.

"You expect the Congressman to give you a medal for rescuing him?" Fornell asked, smirking. He knew full well that Jethro didn't care about accolades but he liked to yank his chain.

"Nah, I got enough. Abby keeps them in a drawer somewhere," Gibbs said with a shrug of his good shoulder. "Thought I'd see if the Congressman wants a ride home."

"You came in an ambulance," Fornell reminded him.

"I'll figure something out," Gibbs replied.

"Hmmm. They may want to keep him a couple of days. Overnight, anyway."

That wasn't unexpected, but Gibbs was disappointed. He still wanted to have a brief talk with Tony before they parted ways. Not that Gibbs knew what the hell he was going to say, but hopefully whatever he came up with would be enough to convince Tony that they should meet up again sometime. Maybe for a ballgame on TV. Or a beer and steak. Yeah, that would be good. Fornell was looking at him a little oddly, so Gibbs said, "I called McGee, when I first got here, to get a ride."

Fornell looked around. "Jesus, does that mean the whole of NCIS is in the waiting room?"

"Nah, I told him to keep everyone at bay. I'll phone him when I'm ready to leave," Gibbs said, knowing McGee would not be coming alone.

Fornell looked at him with skepticism. "Somehow, I doubt that even Special Agent McGee can keep Ms. Scuito at bay, Jethro."

Despite himself, Gibbs smiled. "Abby and Palmer were coming to the farm this morning. They would've found the place cordoned off with yellow tape. I wanted McGee to let them know I wasn't dead." He found it hard to believe that it was only last night he'd met Tony for the first time, and that morning he'd killed a man. "I'm sure they called Ducky and Dorneget and…hell, Bishop's probably renting a van big enough to hold the whole lot of them," Gibbs said with a shake of his head.

The relief in McGee's voice when they'd spoken had been evident, and it had only taken a minute for the agent in charge of Gibbs' old team to devise a plan to rescue him. "Just need a ride, McGee, not a mounted assault. I'll call when they're done with me. It'll be a few hours," Gibbs had said, preventing them all from rushing over.

Fornell remarked sourly, "You're still their boss, even after retiring? It's like having kids that never leave home."

"Or ex-wives who come around at the worst of times."

"Okay, that's worse."

"I keep telling them not to call me Boss," Gibbs said in an irritated tone.

"Your exes?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs snorted. "Yeah, right." He wasn't about to admit that he had a soft spot for the agents he had worked with, and trained, over the years. He was proud of them, too, and although he hadn't handed out accolades, they knew when they'd done good. McGee had stepped into his boss's shoes with a self-confidence Gibbs hadn't entirely expected, and although there had been a few late-night visits when the new head of the MCRT had come to Gibbs for advice and a headslap, Timothy McGee was proving to be a fine leader.

His shoulder was aching, and his energy level was rapidly waning. He would be glad to get out of this hospital, and he'd bet Tony felt the same way. Dr. Rayid had been thorough, which was good, because it meant he'd performed all possible tests, and Gibbs would not have to return anytime soon. Rayid had let him go only after he had sworn he'd follow up with his regular doctor in a couple of days.

But before he left, Gibbs needed to see with his own eyes that Tony was all right. "How about you use some of your FBI clout, Tobias, and get me past those doors?"

At Fornell's request, the guard handed Jethro a visitor's ID. "C'mon, Gibbs. Let's go see your congressman."

"He isn't my congressman," Gibbs asserted, as they walked through the doors and down a quiet, carpeted hallway.

Fornell snorted in reply.

Even if the two FBI agents standing guard outside Suite 506 hadn't been a dead giveaway, the frustrated male voice emanating from the room, belonging to the doctor, told Gibbs he had found the right place.

"Maybe we should wait until the doc is finished," warned Fornell. They could hear some arguing and then someone, presumably Tony, coughing. The doctor seemed to be trying to convince him of something. If Tony responded, they couldn't hear what he said from the doorway.

In a quiet voice, Gibbs asked Fornell, "You know how he's doing?"

Fornell replied, keeping his voice down, "I think they're still worried about his airway because of the bruising to his neck. He's lucky it wasn't worse."

Gibbs flashed back to the night before, reliving seeing Tony being in a chokehold, Beals yanking him roughly across the living room while ranting about everyone conspiring against him. Gibbs was well aware of how close Tony had come to being killed. "Yeah."

"I mean, he's lucky you were there," Fornell said.

Gibbs accepted Fornell's comment with a nod. He could just make out Tony's voice, talking to the doctor. It sounded like he was straining, as if it hurt to talk.

While they waited, Fornell said, "Some of the Congressman's staff members and friends came to see him earlier. I had a hell of a time getting them to leave, but they can't see him until tomorrow. He talked to his Chief of Staff, but no more visitors are allowed. Except for you." Fornell jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Those folks from DiNozzo's office act more like family than his father does," he said critically. "The Senator came to the ER for all of ten minutes, hours ago, and barely looked in on his son. Next thing, he was out front talking to the press."

"What about DiNozzo's wife?"

Fornell hesitated, but he didn't seem to have a reason why Tony's wife hadn't yet made an appearance. "I assigned round-the-clock protection detail for Mrs. DiNozzo and their son."

"They in danger?" asked Gibbs. His gut told him that Beals didn't have an accomplice, but it was never good to assume anything.

"You know the drill; until we're satisfied that Beals was working alone…" Fornell left the sentence unfinished. "We advised her to leave town, maybe stay with her parents until we confirm it's safe. She agreed to leave tomorrow morning."

"You know her?" Gibbs couldn't help but be curious about Tony's wife, Wendy. He didn't get the feeling that Fornell knew about Tony's pending divorce. Knowing that the DiNozzos must have kept it quiet for a good reason, Gibbs certainly wasn't about to disclose Tony's personal business.

"I only met Mrs. DiNozzo a few times over the past few days. She handled the stress of her husband's kidnapping pretty well," Fornell said carefully.

Gibbs read between the lines. "Cool customer?"

Fornell sighed. "Let's put it this way: she never missed a day of work at the Baltimore Beat during the time her husband was missing. Don't get me wrong; Mrs. DiNozzo seemed concerned, and did everything we asked of her. She seems close to his father, the Senator; she leaned on him during the time her husband was missing." He concluded, "People handle stress differently. Some have to keep to their normal routine or else they'll fall apart."

Gibbs understood about being stoic, and keeping it together, especially when things got tough. If you panicked, you stood to lose everything in a dangerous situation. Still, if any member of his own family had been kidnapped and their life was hanging in the balance, he would go mad with worry. He'd be the first person by their bedside at the hospital, and nothing would keep him away. But not even making an appearance when your husband was rescued? Or when he was rushed off to the ER? He didn't get that at all. Fuming at the lack of caring and support Tony was getting from his family, Gibbs said, between gritted teeth, "Yeah, well I'm here for him."

Fornell patted Gibbs on the back and nodded. "Look, Gibbs, I'm going to my office as soon as I'm done here. Why don't you come with me and we'll get your statement written up?"

Sitting in an FBI office and giving a formal statement was the last thing Jethro wanted to do right now. It was only early afternoon but it felt like he'd been there a lot longer. Plus he had horses to tend to. While he'd been waiting to see a doctor, he'd phoned Moira and told her what was going on. Of course she'd immediately said she'd go out to the farm and take care of the horses. Gibbs had placed a call to Abby next, while lying on a gurney, waiting for a scan. By the time he'd reached Abby, she'd already been to the farm with Palmer, and was freaking out. It had taken a lot of work to calm her down. Repeating, "I'm fine. I'm fine, Abby," eventually convinced her he wasn't badly injured. "I need you to work with Moira, Abs. She'll be there any minute. I'm counting on you," had done the trick.

Just the same, he didn't like leaving the horses alone too long. They weren't used to strangers handling them. No matter how gentle Abby might be, she didn't understand each of the horse's quirks and needs. Gibbs sighed. "Can this wait until tomorrow?"

"Depends. You have anything important to add that you haven't already told me?"

Gibbs glared at the FBI agent. He might be retired, but he hadn't forgotten how an investigation was run, and he'd already told Fornell everything he had known as soon as the FBI agent had arrived at the farm that morning. "I know your number if I think of anything," Gibbs pointed out. "Hey, did you get the bag of wet clothing Tony was wearing?"

"It's been added to the evidence. We located the trailer where DiNozzo was held, by the way. About two miles from your farm, on an abandoned property. My people are processing it now. No sign of the ransom money, or his cell phone." Fornell was about to continue but he was distracted by the sound of the doctor saying urgently, "Mr. DiNozzo, you need to calm down."

Gibbs listened as Tony spoke loudly despite the damage to his throat. "I want my own doctor…Dr. Pitt…Bethesda…I don't care…" Tony's voice cracked mid-sentence, followed by a bout of coughing accompanied by urgent beeping from a machine.

Following his instinctive need to be by Tony's side, Gibbs shouldered his way into the room. He sensed that Fornell was right behind him, but he was too focused on Tony to look back. Gibbs watched the doctor administer medication to an IV, and one of the two nurses in the room fought to place an O2 mask over Tony's pale, sweaty face.

"Please, out of the way," said one of the nurses, when Gibbs approached the bed, giving him a glare that would have had lesser men quaking in their boots. He had no intention of leaving, but he stepped back a little. If they tried to eject him, he would have to fight them on it.

The nurse's attention returned to her patient. Wild-eyed and gasping for every breath, Tony was on the edge of panic, pushing at the mask in an effort to be rid of it. One of the nurses took hold of his arm and tried to restrain him, saying, "Mr. DiNozzo! Mr. DiNozzo, Tony…I need you to…"

Tony was shaking his head, making desperate sounds, and Gibbs could see that he wasn't hearing anything the nurse was saying. Gibbs stepped right up to the bed and placed a steadying hand on Tony's shoulder. He said in a commanding voice, "Tony, take it easy. We're trying to help you. It's okay. You're safe."

Tony struggled, coughing weakly, but Gibbs calmly repeated that he was going to be fine, to take it easy. "Listen to me…breathe slowly…that's it…I'm here for you," he said, leaning over the bed. Tony's eyes locked on Gibbs'. He seemed surprised to find Gibbs at his side, and then relief flooded his face. "That's right, I'm here," Gibbs said, with a smile. Without taking his eyes off Tony, Gibbs said to the medical staff, "He's been through a lot the past few days. Everyone needs to back off, don't crowd him." He felt, rather than saw, them stepping away, and gradually the frantic beeping slowed down.

Gibbs made sure the mask stayed in place, keeping eye contact with Tony until his breathing improved and the coughing eased. The doctor was intent upon watching the monitors, but eventually he nodded. It appeared that the crisis was over.

Tony's lips moved and Gibbs leaned close so he could catch what the man was saying. "You? Okay?"

"Hey, don't worry about me." Gibbs was touched that even in the state Tony was in, he was concerned about his wellbeing. He glanced down at his arm in its sling. "This is nothing."

Gibbs looked up to find the doctor frowning at him, as if trying to remember where he'd seen him before.

"Jethro Gibbs?"

"That's me, doc."

"Ah, I should have known this young man was one of yours."

Gibbs shook the doctor's hand with his uninjured one, and as he did, he remembered the man's name, and where he knew him from. "He's not on my team, Dr. Mason, but he's …uh…I guess he's my responsibility. Thought you were at Bethesda."

"Not any more. I live in Bowie now, with my family. I thought you'd retired."

"I have," Gibbs said with a nod. He kept an eye on Tony, who was breathing easier, and seemed interested in the exchange.

Fornell, who was standing out of the way, said, "The real reason that the doc took a job out here in Bowie was so he wouldn't have to patch up you NCIS boys every week."

Dr. Mason grumbled good-naturedly, "If it weren't for Dr. Mallard taking care of the lesser injuries, I expect I'd have seen you NCIS agents more frequently. Your people step into the line of fire way too often." He turned to Fornell and said, "And your agents aren't much better." The doctor took a moment to look pointedly at Jethro's trussed-up arm. "I thought I gave you strict instructions not to mess up that arm again."

"Yeah, well, trouble seems to follow me." Gibbs gave a one-shouldered shrug. He glanced at Tony, who looked exhausted and in need of sleep. Without any forethought, Gibbs took hold of Tony's hand. He was surprised at how strong his grip was. Meeting Tony's tired gaze, Gibbs said, "One thing about living on a farm, strays just turn up on the doorstep." That made Tony smile behind the mask, and for the first time since they'd been rushed to the hospital, Gibbs felt some of the tension he'd been carrying around ease up. "I needed to make sure they were taking care of you," he said quietly to Tony.

"I'm fine," Tony said, his voice barely there, muffled by the mask. He kept his gaze fixed on Jethro's face, and didn't seem to notice when the nurse injected the contents of a syringe into his IV port. Tony frowned and asked, "Where you been?"

"They were holding me hostage down in X-ray," Gibbs said, indicating his sling. "I sorta gave them a hard time. They seemed to be glad to see the back of me." He was glad to see that made Tony smile.

Whatever they'd given Tony worked fast, because his eyelids started to droop. He blinked heavily and coughed a couple of times, and mumbled, "Took you long enough…to get here."

Before Gibbs could respond, Tony fell asleep with a sigh.

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