Chapter Eleven
Gibbs tried to keep his stomach from emptying itself as he was poked and prodded, his reflexes checked. The piercing pain when a light was shined into his eyes almost made him yell out in agony. They’d had him stretch out on the couch to be examined and he was nauseous and disoriented, his vision swimming, his head pounding.
Between the lights, all the voices, and the scent of the leather sofa under him, Gibbs was on sensory overload and he was trying like hell to not embarrass himself. Marines didn’t throw up at a little things like this and he was a damned good Marine.
“Jethro, turn your head slowly, I need to look at this area more closely.” Doctor Perle had gentle hands and a soothing voice, but every sound was amplified, every motion made Gibbs’ stomach flip and churn. He tried to breathe shallowly, to ignore the scents of expensive aftershave and peppermint from the doctor and leather underneath him. He would not throw up. Not in front of Tony again. It’d just scare the kid even more.
Gibbs gulped down bile and did as he was told, closing his eyes. Gentle fingers ghosted over his temple, parting the short bristles of hair and resting lightly on the injured area of his scalp. It was all Gibbs could do to bite back his groan; even a gentle touch was too much pain and drove him closer to passing out.
“You need some medical tests, an X ray at the very least,” the doctor said gently but firmly.
“Henry?” Nate asked quietly from his position flanking the doctor. “Is there a problem we need to be aware of?” Gibbs appreciated the low tone of Nate’s voice; he didn’t want Tony worried.
“His pupils are contracting sluggishly, Nate. He really should be admitted. This goes far beyond a mild concussion and I’m very concerned about long term problems.”
“He is here,” Gibbs bit out. “And he is not going to be admitted. He has handled things just fine up till now.”
“I don’t think you have, Jethro,” the doctor replied, cupping the back of his neck as he and Nate eased Gibbs up to a sitting position. Gibbs chafed at the assistance; he wasn’t a little old man to be coddled and helped around by men old enough to be his father.
“I imagine your depth perception is off, your vision sharper in the one eye. You may sometimes see double and have a lot of blurriness. You’re nauseous every day and sometimes you lose track of time.” The two Dr. Perles wobbling in front of him gave Gibbs a faint smile. “That isn’t a question, by the way. I’ve seen many head injuries like yours. You could have died.”
“But I didn’t. I’m healing. You can’t exactly bandage this up.”
“No, but I can get a more accurate diagnosis and prescribe some medications to make it easier for you.”
“Not happening.”
“Jethro,” Nate warned, using that overly patient voice his father in law used most often when Kelly was acting up. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“Not getting a med discharge, Nate. Can’t afford that. Shan and Kel need--”
“You. They need you, Jethro. We can’t afford to lose you. It worries me how we nearly did and how much you and Shannon have kept from us.”
“Nate, I’m fine.” Gibbs tried his commander voice on the older man even though it drove him closer to throwing up.
“Bull. Both you and Tony need seeing to. We’ll go in, get some tests done quickly, and get you both patched up. You know Tony needs help. What if he refuses on the grounds that you’ve said no and it results in his death?”
A shiver ran down Gibbs’ spine at that thought. His ego didn’t matter as much as Tony’s health. “Is it that bad?” he asked quietly, glancing over at Tony and the other doctor, Sarah hovering over them both.
“I don’t believe it is life threatening, Jethro, but he needs X-rays as well.”
“I don’t want this on the books,” Gibbs finally said. “If his father is as bad news as you tell me, I don’t want him to have an in with the kid.” From Nate’s frown and brief nod, Gibbs knew that his father in law had given this some serious thought while they’d been resting.
“I may have an idea, Jethro. You just rest here.”
The two men motioned the other doctor and Sarah into a huddle and Gibbs stood slowly, swaying. He made his way over to the couch Tony was sitting on, settling in beside him and turning his head very slowly to meet the boy’s pained eyes.
“You doing okay?”
Tony nodded, working his lip between his teeth. “I heard what they said about you. You’re real badly hurt and I’m screwing this all up by being here. Please be okay.”
Tony’s plea was almost tearful, reawakening every paternal instinct Gibbs had, not to mention a hell of a lot of fury for the man who had taken Tony’s self confidence and replaced it with fear. Giovanni DiNozzo was gonna pay. Gibbs style.
“I’m gonna be fine,” Gibbs assured, forcing his voice to stay mild. He damned well would be. He had an ass kicking to deliver soon. That dirtbag was never getting near Tony again. Nobody would ever put fear into that kid’s eyes again.
“What did they say about your head?”
“They want to do some tests. Just to make sure I’m healing okay. I am, Tony. Just sometimes takes time and guys like us, we’re not real patient.”
“Yeah,” Tony sighed and it was a world weary sound that Gibbs wouldn’t have thought a teen could pull off. But, given how tough the road had been for the kid, that sigh carried a lot of extra weight, and Gibbs silently vowed to change that. Tony needed to be a kid. Adulthood was right around the corner; he deserved this time to just be a teenager for now.
There was a story there about how Tony’d had to grow up so quickly and Gibbs only had the bare bones of it. Maybe between him and Shannon, they could worm more information out of him. And maybe with a family like theirs, Tony could relax.
“Did they say anything about you?” Gibbs asked, pulling his mind back to the present.
“They want to take some tests, make sure I’m not bleeding inside and stuff. And they think my dad might find out. The…him, not you. I know he doesn’t care, but if he thinks someone else does, he’ll make trouble, Da--Jay.”
“You’re not a pawn in anyone’s game. We’ll figure it out.” At least Nate and Sarah had deep pockets if this became a legal fight. “You told me before that he isn’t your father. Do you mean biologically?”
“Yeah.” Tony shifted and looked uncomfortable. “I snooped. I’m not supposed to know this, but he found out a couple of years ago that he can’t have kids.”
“How’d you find that out?”
“Louise, the maid. She was talking. She found papers from a doctor that said he can’t…you know. And I dug around and found the papers and photocopied them. Just in case. They’re in my backpack. Anyway, people talk. I don’t look like him. He’s really dark and tanned and I’m not. His eyes are black and mine are green and brown. He’s really big and muscled and I’m not. I don’t look like him at all. You saw him, you remember?”
“I remember,” Gibbs said quietly.
“Look more like you,” Tony said, a thread of hope in his voice.
“But I’m not…I never met your mom, Tony. This isn’t…” As much as Gibbs knew Tony wanted that, there was no way he was going to give Tony false hope. There was no way he was Tony’s biological father.
“Jay, I know. I was just saying that if people saw us…” He trailed off. “What do you think they’re talking about?”
Gibbs rested his shoulder against the teen’s, offering quiet support without saying any words. He wanted to slip an arm around Tony’s shoulder, but he didn’t want either of them dealing with the fallout.
“Think they’re figuring out how to get you in for testing safely.”
“Without letting my…him know.”
“Yeah. We could report it but…”
“No. No. You can’t!” Tony pressed close, his breathing becoming harsh. He coughed a few times and Gibbs waved off the concern of the doctors.
“We won’t, Tony. We’re not gonna put you in any more danger. Think they’re trying to work around that.” Gibbs pulled in a deep breath. “That dirtbag is never gonna harm you again. You’re my boy now.”
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