Chapter 3
Gibbs' head was throbbing. This was more than just a bad case of the 'Monday's', as Abby would put it. This was just turning into a shitty day all around. Not that he ever was one to complain about having to go back to work after a nice weekend off; he left that to DiNozzo. However, two hours in a meeting with Vance and his toothpick regarding his agents' performance reports, followed by this senseless murder of a sailor in a grocery store parking lot and the fact that he only had time for one cup of coffee this morning had sent his head spiraling down into a full-blown migraine. He was not a happy camper and everyone around him knew it.
“I'm all done here Jethro. Jimmy just needs to load the body and we'll be on our way.” Ducky informed him as he approached.
“Fine, Duck.” He replied grumpily, grinding his teeth. The medical examiner eyed him over his glasses for a moment.
“What?” Gibbs asked curtly.
“I have aspirin in my truck should you want anything for that headache of yours.” Ducky informed him.
“How'd you know I had a headache?”
“I'm a doctor, Jethro. Do you think they would award me a medical license if I couldn't diagnose a migraine? Besides, I've known you for far too long to know that when you don't have a cup of coffee in your hands, you're most likely suffering from the effects of caffeine withdrawal.”
Gibbs gave his old friend a weak grin “Thanks, Ducky. I may have to take you up on that offer.”
“Don't mention it. Just take care of it before you hurt someone. Poor Timothy has been cowering from you all morning, I'm not sure his nerves can take much more of your crankiness.”
He just shook his head as Ducky walked off to help Jimmy with the body. McGee was wrapping up the evidence collection and Ziva and Tony had left over an hour ago to scope out the neighborhood. There wasn't much else for them to do at the scene, so he was making his way to the medical examiner's truck for that aspirin when his phone rang.
“Gibbs.” He answered.
“Gibbs....Tony....” Ziva voice cracked from the other end of the line sending chills up his spine. She was never distressed, something terrible must have happened to shake her.
“Ziva. Where are you?” He demanded to know, not letting her finish the sentence.
“Alleyway behind the Mexican restaurant on Tenth.” She told him firmly, but still with a hint of unease that sent his gut into overdrive. He needed to get there and fast.
“Stay there.” He ordered “I'm on my way.” His feet were already in motion as he snapped the phone shut and raced for the sedan.
“Boss?” McGee called out, seeing him flee and wondering no doubt, what was going on.
“Stay here McGee.” He called out before he was in the car and starting it up. Peeling out of the parking lot with a squeal of the tires he fishtailed into traffic. He ignored the horns from fellow drivers on the road and pushed the limits of the Charger, dodging other cars and trucks at a rate of speed that was way past legal and way past safe. He was approaching the alleyway Ziva described when he saw an ambulance pull out of it, lights flashing, sirens blaring and taking off quickly in the opposite direction.
“Shit.” He swore. How bad was it for the ambulance to be going so fast? He floored it, his heartrate picking up speed and he spun the wheel, turning the car abruptly to the right and screeching to a halt at the entrance to the alley. In the span of a heartbeat he was out of the vehicle and running up to Ziva.
“What the hell happened Ziva?” She started to speak, but nothing came out, only her lips moved. Gibbs grabbed her shoulders.
“Ziva, Focus.”
“Right. I am sorry. Uh....” She looked to a pile of garbage bags to her left and Gibbs followed her gaze, seeing the body lying amongst the trash and the pool of blood near her feet. Was that Tony's blood then? Crap, there was a lot of it.
“What happened to Tony?”
“We were taken by surprise a few blocks away... He knocked me down and Tony chased after him. He tackled him here and they fought. I got here just as the guy pulled the gun, I fired, but the man got off a round first. I was too late.... Tony was hit.”
“How bad?” Gibbs asked. Ziva just shook her head and looked away from his intense gaze. This couldn't be good.
“Dammit, Ziva.” He implored and she snapped her head back up to look at him.
“Bad Gibbs...very bad.” She finally answered, her eyes bearing down on him. Dammit Tony. He swore angrily to his agent internally How do you always get yourself into these situations?
Gibbs turned away from her, thinking. His mind clicked into his take-charge mode, he was in the lead here and they still had a job to do. As much as he wanted to just race to the car and run off to the hospital to see his downed agent, they still had to focus on the case. One thing he had learned over his years in the Marines and with NCIS was that it would be of no use to anyone for them to go to the hospital only to sit around unable to do anything. They would have to trust the doctors to do their jobs as they did theirs. At least out here they could focus on their mission and get to the bottom of things rather than twiddling their thumbs in a hospital waiting room.
Ziva was still staring at the body, deep in her own thoughts. He knew she was distracted and he would have to pull her out of her funk and get her working; get her mind off of her partner and onto the case. He turned back to her.
“Call Ducky, Ziva and get him down here. Tell him we have another body for him.” He gave her what she needed, a task she could concentrate on and she reacted like the soldier she was, snapping out of her reverie, calling their coroner and obeying his command.
Gibbs grabbed his cell and called McGee, ordering him to the alley with the truck. He walked over to the vagrant lying in the pile of rubbish, surveying his tattered clothes and dirty, matted hair. He was most definitely a man that hadn't seen a shower or a clean set of clothes in a very long time.
Looking to the gun that lay on the ground beside the man's hand, he knelt down and took a closer look at it. It was not your ordinary handgun. Certainly no 'Saturday Night Special' that could be easily obtained by the criminal element and absolutely not the kind of weapon a man that lived on the street could afford. Closer inspection showed it to be a Ruger .22 in nice condition, maybe even brand new.
Seeing the distance between the man and the crimson stain where Tony had fallen, he figured that the damage any bullet coming from the rimfire pistol could be extensive, but he was thankful that it was a small caliber and not a very powerful weapon, otherwise Tony certainly would have been killed. Why weren't you wearing your vest, Tony? You know better. He had to get that thought out of his head though, now was not the time for worry about his senior agent or about his failure to safeguard his own safety. He needed to focus on finding out the truth. Why did this guy have this gun? Did he find it? Was it given to him? So many questions needed to be answered and it was best that they get to work, there was more to this case than met the eye and he was determined to find out what it was.
OOOOO
Tony took a seat at the head of the table and smiled cheerfully at the two women. With Kate to his left and Paula to his right, they eyed him haughtily and he chuckled until it became a full blown laugh with tears streaming down his face. He had to put his head on the table, holding his side as he gave into the hilarity.
“What's so funny?” Kate asked, annoyed.
Tony tried to bring his mirth under control, willing the laughter to end as he wiped the tears away, sighing and catching his breath.
“Oh, this is just....” He laughed a little again “Sooo absurd. I mean, here I am in my Grandmother's apartment, decorated just as it was in 1987, about to have dinner made by my dead Nonna with two dead friends. So forgive me if I am having a hard time keeping this all in. This is just crazy!”
“Oh C'mon, Tony. Haven't you figured out why you're here yet?” Paula asked as though he should know.
“What? Are you serious? You ask that like it's everyday that I wake up to have dinner with the dead.” He fixed her with a gaze and she raised her eyebrows. He smiled again and wagged a finger at them “Oh, I get it...this is hell, isn't it? I've died and gone to hell and you two are here to torment me for eternity.”
“If this is hell Tony, why would your sweet grandmother be here making you your favorite dish?” Kate asked, crossing her arms and giving him a smug look.
“To tell you the truth, she really wasn't all that much of a saint.” He said from the side of his mouth.
“I heard that, Anthony!” Nonna came to the table carrying the large pan filled with Lasagna and placed it in the center of the table before straightening and putting her hands on her hips. He grimaced.
“Sorry, Nonna.” He back-peddled and smiled sweetly with his most charming face. “How could this possibly be hell when you're here and we have lasagna? In fact, the smell alone could quite possibly pass for heaven.” The older woman shook her head and chuckled.
“Don't be sorry boy, just get some plates so we can eat.” She kissed him on the cheek before playfully smacking him with a pot holder on the shoulder and he flashed a grin, waggling his eyebrows toward Paula and Kate. Both women rolled their eyes.
“Right away.” He got up from the table and went back into the kitchen gathering four plates and forks along with a serving spatula for the lasagna. Tony could hear them talking to each other while he was in the kitchen.
“He still doesn't know what's going on, does he?” Kate asked.
“I don't think he has a clue.” Paula replied. “should we tell him or let him figure it out on his own?”
“I think we should let him draw his own conclusions.” Nonna suggested. “We are after all, just figments of his imagination.”
Ah- ha! he thought. He knew it, this was some kind of dream. It had to be. It all made sense now. All he had to do was wake up and it would be over. But there was still lasagna to be had, so he might as well hang out a little while longer and enjoy it.
He walked back to the table and handed everyone a plate and a fork. Nonna took the spatula from him and served everyone a gigantic piece. Tony sat and dug into his meal with gusto, earning a look from Kate. The first bite was just as good as he remembered it, maybe even better. He closed his eyes in enjoyment and brought his fingertips to his lips, kissing them towards Nonna, making it clear how he felt about her cooking.
“Mmmmm... This is just spectacular!” He said, his mouth stuffed full of food.
“Anthony!..Chew with your mouth closed.” Nonna chastised, but grinned, proud of her meal. He obeyed, closing his mouth and chewing with a big smile across his face.
He finished his first piece quickly and was rewarded with another right away from Nonna.
“Save some for the rest of us, Tony.” Paula joked.
“Oh, now Paula. Anthony is a growing boy, he needs his food.” Nonna turned to the blond, who rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, Paula, you heard her. I need my food” Tony shot back at her and Kate snorted.
“Well, you may be growing, but it's not upward.” The brunette patted his belly and smiled as she popped another bite into her mouth. Paula laughed and Tony made a face at both of them.
“Hey. I'll have you know I'm the exact same size I was the last time I saw you two.”
Paula and Kate just exchanged looks and laughed at the same time.
“What? I am!” He insisted.
“Sure you are.” Paula chuckled.
“Alright, kids. Let's just eat our dinner.” Nonna interrupted. “I do have dessert for when we're finished.”
“Oooh. Is it your fudge brownies?” Tony asked excitedly, his mouth watering in anticipation. Nonna's brownies were the only things she made that were better than her lasagna.
“For you? Of course.” She patted his cheek.
“You're the best.” He kissed the top of her head.
“So, Tony. Is Nonna your grandmother from your mother or your father's side?” Kate asked, trying to make polite conversation while satisfying her curiosity.
“My mom's.” He answered between bites. “I never did meet my other grandparents, they died before I was born. But, I always had Nonna here, even after my mom died and my father cut me off. She gave me a place to stay whenever I needed to get away from good 'ol dad.” He looked to the older woman affectionately and she returned it.
“Aw, that's so sweet.” Paula said, looking nostalgic. “I was an Army brat and we moved around so much I never really got to see my grandparents much. I wish I had gotten to know them better though.”
“How about you Kate?” Tony asked “What about your grandparents?”
“Well, being a Catholic family, we tend to breed rather prolifically and my extended family was pretty large. My grandparents had four sons and five daughters. Needless to say, family get-togethers were a noisy affair, especially Christmastime when we had everyone there, including all thirty of my cousins. We had to rent a hall for such occasions, and that's just my mom's side” She smiled at the memory, looking in the distance and putting her hand into her chin. “I really miss all of that.”
“Jeez, Kate.”
“I know.”
Tony looked down and realized sadly that he had finished his last piece of lasagna and there was no more left in the pan. He should be full, he thought to himself, but he wasn't. Then he was reminded that this was a dream and he could probably eat as much as he wanted without any consequences. That thought gave him great joy as he thought about dessert.
“So, where are these brownies of yours, Nonna?”
“They're in the kitchen by the sink, why don't you go ahead and grab them for us.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good boy.” She praised. Tony pushed back from the table and was about to head back into the kitchen when a sudden sharp pain pierced his side. Okay, maybe he couldn't eat all he wanted, even in his dreams. He doubled over, grabbing the space between his ribs that felt like someone was twisting a knife into. What the hell was happening?
Nonna was by his side as was Kate and Paula.
“What is it? What's wrong?” Nonna asked, holding him around the shoulders.
“I don't know.” Tony said as the pain flared. “Hurts.”
“Let's get him to the couch.” Kate suggested. It sounded like a good idea to Tony, maybe he just needed to lie down, then he'd feel better. The women helped him maneuver across the living room to the couch and laid him down. Nonna grabbed an afghan from the back of the armchair and wrapped it around him. He clenched his teeth, the pain in his chest felt like an elephant sitting on him, making it hard to breath. This pain was familiar, he recalled. Something had happened to him, he couldn't remember.
“Why don't you just close your eyes and take a nap, Anthony.” Nonna placed her hands on his head, smoothing back his hair. “We'll still be here when you wake up.”
He looked up into the concerned faces of his friends and grandmother, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he wouldn't open them again. But he was suddenly so tired and weak and his eyes begged to shut. He tried to force them open, but they refused to obey his commands and a tunnel closed around his vision, darkness enclosing him.
The sounds of voices talking rapidly, machines beeping and a bright light being shined into his eyes assaulted his senses, shocking him out of the dark. Something was over his face, obstructing his view and he moved a heavy hand to remove it, but it was grabbed and placed back by his side.
“Are you with us, Mr. DiNozzo?” A fuzzy face above him asked.
“Uhg...Wha?...”
“You're in the hospital. I'm Dr. Grossman. We're going to take good care of you, but you need to leave the mask on your face and leave the tube in your side alone, they're helping you to breath.”
Tony's hazy head tried to take in what the man was saying as he came into a clearer view. He didn't even realize that his other hand was attempting to reach for the tube sticking out from between his ribs until he looked left. So that's what hurts so much.Tubes filled with fluids and blood were coming in and out of him at various location across his body and he came to the conclusion, rather detached, that he was naked. Couldn't they even spare a towel for his manly parts? He wondered.
It hurt. There was pain all across his chest.
Shot. He remembered. He was shot.
Was he dying? Another face joined the doctor next to him. A young man moved into his view holding a device with a wand.
“I've got the ultrasound, Dr. Grossman.”
“Okay, you want to give it a try?” Try? Give it a try? Tony may be spacey, but he wasn't too keen on this kid trying new things out on his body. Feeling much like a guinea pig, he could do little to protest as the doctor squirted a cold gel onto his chest. Was this guy a doctor? Was he even old enough to be one?
“Whatcha doin Doogie?” He tried to ask, but it was muffled by the mask and his voice sounded surprisingly weak as it hurt to push the air past his lips.
“Dr. Michaels here is a med student and he's going to perform an ultrasound on your heart. Don't worry, this won't hurt.” Great, a med student, he thought. The boy put the probe awkwardly against his chest, moving it around as the older doctor gave instructions.
“There, move it a little to the right...no, your other right...a little more...more... Okay, there we go. Take a look at that.” he pointed to the hand-held screen and the med student looked nervous, like he was taking a test. “Do you see it?” Dr. Grossman asked.
“Uh, I think so... is that the bullet?” The student asked, not inspiring confidence in Tony.
“Yeah...” The older doctor turned his attention back to Tony, who desperately wanted an explanation.
“You are one very lucky man, Mr. DiNozzo. The bullet that hit you is sitting right on top of your heart between your aorta and your pulmonary vein. It doesn't appear to have punctured the pericardium, which is very good, but there is some bleeding around the heart that concerns us and given the bullet's location, we can't risk leaving it in, so we're going to have to go into surgery and take it out before it causes any more damage, okay?” Okay? This didn't sound so good. How was he lucky again?
“A millimeter in either direction and you and I wouldn't be having this talk right now.” Oh. He guessed he was lucky after all. He watched through slitted eyes as the medical personnel worked on him. Thankfully, someone was laying a blanket over his nakedness, he hadn't realized how cold he had become. Suddenly tired again, he felt an unexplained lightness and heard a female voice tell the doctor his blood pressure had dropped.
Dr. Grossman grabbed the portable ultrasound from the med student and ran it over Tony's chest again. As the world grew dark once again, he could still hear the raised voices of the people working on him and of the doctor ordering the assembled nurses to get him to surgery right away. The bullet was moving, the doctor explained; there was no time to wait. As their voices faded he had only one thought. Oh crap. So much for being lucky.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.