AN – Thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter. I once wrote a line in "What you see is not always what you get" about Gibbs " first lesson in not taking the DiNozzo barometer of 'fine' at face value, when he had found the younger man passed out in the NCIS parking lot" so I was particularly pleased to fit that bit of 'backstory' in!
Quickly holstering his weapon, Gibbs dropped to one knee and pressed two fingers against DiNozzo's neck to check for a pulse. To his relief it beat weak but steadily against his fingers. A quick visual check of the area gave him no clue as to what might have happened, but as he carefully patted down his still unresponsive Agent, careful fingers carding through his hair discovered a fair sized goose egg.
"Hit your head huh, DiNozzo?" Gibbs murmured. "You do that on the way down or when Matthews smacked you up against that wall?"
When DiNozzo didn't answer, Gibbs decided that he had been spending too much time with Ducky, although, the sight of DiNozzo lying so quiet and still was too much like his earlier visions of his corpse to make that thought even remotely amusing. Pulling out his cell, Gibbs had just finished calling the Paramedics when DiNozzo began to stir, trying to put a hand to his head, even as he struggled to sit up.
"Hey!" Gibbs barked, worry making his tone sharp, as he placed a hand on his chest, effectively pinning him in place. Until, they knew exactly what was going on he didn't think it was a good idea for DiNozzo to be moving around. "Keep still."
Gibbs would have been less surprised if DiNozzo had tried to take a swing at him, thinking he was his attacker. Instead, the streetwise former cop, who only hours ago had looked down the barrel of his own gun without fear, flinched away from his touch, his eyes wide with sheer panic. Before Gibbs could react, DiNozzo began to flail wildly, in an attempt to fight off ex-marine, even as he desperately tried to drag himself out of reach across the wet, hard, ground.
"DiNozzo!" Worried that he might seriously injury himself Gibbs caught his arms to immobilise him, giving him a little shake, as he tried to reach him with his voice. "Tony, settle down."
"G .. Gibbs?" Tony blinked.
"Yeah, you back with me?" Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief as the younger man visibly relaxed and gave a small nod. Cautiously removing his hands, Gibbs gave him a slightly awkward pat on the leg. "Take it easy. Paramedics are on their way."
"No, please Boss," Tony's head came up sharply, causing the younger man to wince before continuing. "I don't need a Hospital."
"I swear, DiNozzo, if you tell me you're fine," Gibbs growled, even as he shrugged out of his jacket and draped in around DiNozzo's shoulders to combat the night chill. "What the hell happened?"
"Last thing I remember was coming down in the elevator feeling a little light headed," Tony admitted, not meeting his eyes. "I didn't eat all that much today."
Gibbs realised he should have known that. DiNozzo's lunch had disappeared out the sedan window and apart from a couple of snacks from the vending machine he couldn't recall him eating anything else since breakfast. But he was also convinced that the other man was deliberately hiding the extent of his injuries received at Matthews hands.
"And?" He demanded.
Sitting on the cold concrete floor Tony shivered slightly inside the comforting warmth and scent of the jacket around his shoulders. He could feel the cold from the concrete leeching into his ass and his trouser leg was sodden where the trailing edge had landed in a puddle. His head was pounding and he felt sore and tired and totally unprepared to have this conversation right now. But he knew better than to think his Boss was going to just let this drop.
"Gibbs .."
He was saved from having to say anything else by the arrival of the Paramedics. Gibbs rose to his feet and had a sotto voice conversation with the senior partner that even Tony's usually sensitive hearing couldn't catch. Then he stepped back to give them room to work. But Tony could still feel his eyes boring into him as he watched every move. Answering the routine questions as the medics' as they began to check him out, he knew he was just postponing the inevitable. Unexpectedly, he felt his throat tighten at the thought. He tried to tell himself that it had only been a few weeks. He had left Philly after far longer without a backward glance.
Trouble was he'd actually begun to like it here.
When the Paramedics eased him out of his suit jacket and eased up his shirt to inspect the bruised and bloody welts across his back Tony wasn't at all sure what kind of reaction he was expecting. He didn't think it was a good sign that Gibbs didn't say a word. Summoning his courage to raise his eyes to meet the ex-marine's gaze the man's face was unreadable. But his eyes blazed with unmistakable fury. Tony supposed it was no more than he deserved but he wasn't about to give up that easily.
"Gibbs.." He tried to explain.
"Save it." Gibbs ordered curtly.
Tony reluctantly subsided. Even he wasn't crazy enough to go against Gibbs when he used that tone. He hoped they would have a chance to settle this without an audience as soon as the Paramedics were done. But, of course, it couldn't be that easy.
"I'm afraid we'll need to take him in," the Paramedic looked to Gibbs. "Will you be riding with us, sir?"
Tony had never really liked hospitals. He knew they were good places were diseases were conquered, lives were saved and some really good drugs were completely legal. They were also full of cute nurses and hot Doctors but he usually only came to them when he was working a case or too ill or injured to really enjoy the facilities. Or the view, he amended, as he looked over his shoulder at the attractive brunette, who was carefully dressing his back.
"Sorry," The nurse apologised when he winced as she finished dealing with a particularly tender spot. "There. I'm all done. You can put your shirt back on now."
"Ah," Tony made a face. He hadn't even thought about bringing one of the shirts he had stashed in the filing cabinet at work. "The other nurse, Gloria, cut it off me."
"Oh, your friend brought you a new shirt from the gift shop, its right there," She nodded at a chair. "He's waiting outside."
"He did? He is?" Tony brightened up considerably as he eased himself off the gurney and padded over to pick up the shirt. He had been checked and cleared for concession and given about a zillion shots, before finally having the welts dressed. Gibbs had seemed pretty mad as they had rode in stony silence to the Hospital but, if he had stuck around all this time then maybe he didn't need to start drafting his resignation just yet.
"Ah, my dear boy," Dr Mallard greeted him, as he signed himself out. "There you are. Jethro, called and told me of your little misadventure. How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Ducky," Tony looked around. "Where's Gibbs?"
"I'm afraid, Jethro had to leave," Mallard looked a little awkward. "You know how it is."
"He catch a new case?" Tony frowned.
"No, I don't believe so," Mallard smoothly changed the subject. "I must say that shirt looks quite splendid on you. It's gratifying to see I haven't lost my touch. You know, as a young man I used to spend the summer holidays helping my grandfather in his tailors shop. I can tell a person's size in a single glance."
"You haven't?" Tony was beginning to wonder if they had been wrong about the lack of concussion. He seemed to be having trouble tracking the conversation. All he could register was his disappointment that Mallard had been the one to buy him the shirt. "You can?"
"Come along, my dear boy," Mallard apparently took pity on him. "Let's see about getting you back to your accommodations. My car is out front. I took the liberty of looking at your chart. Seeing as the matter is work related. I do hope you don't mind."
"No," Tony was finding it difficult to care about anything al all right now. Gibbs had obviously decided to wash his hands of him but being a good CO had delegated the MD to babysit. "Look, Ducky, I'm sorry you got dragged out at this time of the morning. Why don't you go home? I can call a cab."
"You will do no such thing, young man," Mallard scolded. "You may not have a concussion, but you are in no fit state to be wandering around by yourself. What you need, is a hot shower, a good nourishing meal and then straight to bed."
"Ducky, it's almost 04.30. I have to be at work in three hours."
"All taken care of, I have already spoken to Jethro regarding the small matter of sick leave and he won't be expecting you in tomorrow. In fact, you have three days to recuperate. So, your only concern is to rest up and get well."
"He doesn't want me back, does he?" Tony realised, feeling his eyes burn as all his pain, fear and exhaustion came together. Working with Gibbs had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. He couldn't believe it had all gone to hell in a hand basket so quickly. "Can't you talk to him? At least, get him to listen to my side of things?"
"Anthony, as I'm sure you've noticed, Jethro is a very complex man. But he is also a fair one. Never fear, you will have ample opportunity to discuss this matter with him. But I am afraid that you have rather hurt his feelings somewhat, firstly by not confiding in him and then compounding that error by telling him an untruth. If you want my advice in dealing with our fearless leader, it is probably best that you are patient and let him come to you when he is ready."
"But I wouldn't, I didn't," Tony's jaw dropped in genuine consternation. "Ducky, I would never lie to Gibbs. Even putting aside the fact that he could kill me with his bare hands, without leaving a mark, which is a pretty big consideration if you ask me, I respect him far too much to lie to him."
"Anthony, you assured him that there was nothing wrong with you, right before you passed out." Mallard pointed out.
"He asked about my shoulder," Tony defended himself. "There is nothing wrong with my shoulder. I didn't know I was going to pass out."
"Nevertheless, the fact remains that he asked you, several times I believe, if you were alright and you assured him that you were 'fine'." Mallard raised a brow.
"I am fine," Tony protested vehemently. "It's just a few bruises. I didn't even need stitches."
Mallard kept his own council at the fact that DiNozzo could describe the beating he had endured at Matthew's hands as just a few bruises. In his experience victims found that kind of attack extremely painful. Frankly, he was astonished DiNozzo had been able to mask the extent of his injuries as long as he had. He was very much afraid there might be a good reason for that. Unfortunately, his medical ethics did not allow him to raise that particular defence with Gibbs. And until the investigator could work it out for himself things were likely to be rather difficult.
"Come along, my dear boy, let's both get some rest," Mallard lead the way towards the elevator. "I strongly suspect that we are both going to need it."