Slipping �" chapter five
He placed a plate of lightly buttered toast before Gibbs and was rewarded with a smile and a quick kiss. All so utterly normal, yet something he realised he’d missed. To share a meal, smalltalk. There was none of that awkwardness that sometimes followed the morning after. They already knew each other, yet there were so many things to learn. Tony realised he looked forward to that. Gibbs had said there would be many nights, but that also meant many mornings, spent in companionable silence, or with light conversation as they had today.
It was nearly eight a.m. and Monday morning traffic into DC was deadly as usual. That didn’t stop Gibbs from trying to beat the odds, leaving Tony feeling slightly queasy. Seeking out his own car in the garage, he put his replenished overnight bag in the trunk. If this thing with Gibbs worked out, maybe he could talk Gibbs into leaving some stuff at his house and vice versa. Another thing to look forward to, he thought.
He caught up with the older man at the elevator, having chatted briefly with Geoff, one of the security guards. Working late nights meant that he’d come to know the guards very well, even buying them a meal from time to time. A slightly flustered Ziva also came running, she’d obviously gotten caught in traffic, too. clearly relieved not arriving any later than Gibbs, her latest reprimand probably still fresh in her mind.
“Ziva.” Gibbs was as monosyllabic as usual.
“Gibbs, Tony,” was the equally brief response. Tony just nodded. He could beat them at their own game, he thought wryly, if being mum was the order of the day. He smiled to himself. He had enough to keep his mind occupied for a long, long time. A brief slap to the head brought him out of his reveries.
“Focus,” Gibbs ordered, ignoring a slightly perplexed Ziva, who probably couldn’t quite understand how being silent could get him into trouble.
McGee was already present. He queued the plasma screen as they entered the bullpen, looking all ready to go.
“What have you got, McGee?”
“Well, Boss, I’ve tracked down the cottage in the photo Tony found at Walter’s house. It turns out it is a cabin previously owned by the law firm. They sold it to another company last year, a medical firm located in the same building as Cohen. Apparently, Walter has rented the cottage at several occasions during the last six months. He even has his own set of keys.”
He walked over to his desk and pulled out a file.
“One of the partners is a close personal friend of Walter. The cottage is situated just outside Baltimore. I’ve alerted Baltimore PD. They’ve informed me there are people present in the cottage. According to the owners, no one should be there this weekend. The police have also spotted a car matching Petty Officer Dunner’s parked in the garage. I‘ve asked them to keep the cottage under surveillance, and to have a doctor ready. We don’t know whether Walter is injured or not.”
“Well done, McGee.”
“Gear up! Put on your vests, he’s armed and probably desperate. This may be a hostage situation.”
Tony could feel the adrenaline flowing as he always did in situations like this. Unlike his normal, flippant self, he always felt cool and focused. Today more so than in a long time. He had something to come home to, an inner peace that translated itself to complete focus on the job at hand. He also wanted justice for little Michelle, that was the only way to keep that sweet face from haunting him in the night.
******
“What the fuck?” Tony whipped around as a shot was heard from within the cottage. An upstairs window was shattered as a man fell through, sliding off the roof of the wraparound porch before hitting the ground with a sickening thud. He lay there completely silent, one leg bent at an awkward angle, obviously broken. A crimson rose spread across his rumpled shirt, he’d obviously been shot before the fall.
“Shit,” Gibbs cursed as a warning shot was fired, dissuading anyone hoping to recover Walter’s body.
“We need to get inside. Now.” Conferring with the officers from Baltimore PD, Tony and Gibbs took the back, with the police entering from the front. Tony fastened his ear piece, and waiting for the go ahead.
“Go!”
An officer used a battering ram, taking down the door. Gibbs entered the house first, with Tony following closely behind. Then everything was suddenly moving in slow motion. Petty Officer Dunner burst out of a bedroom, crouching low, putting a single shot in Gibbs’ thigh. Tony didn’t hesitate. Swivelling left to expose less of his body to the assailant, he took him out, three shots to the upper body. He kicked Dunner’s gun out of the way before turning to look at Gibbs. His skin had taken on a greyish-green hue, a sheen of sweat covering his face.
He looked at Tony, trying to say something, but no sound came across his lips. His head tipped to left, his eyes closing.
“Get a doctor in here!” Tony yelled, tearing off his vest and crouching down beside Gibbs.
”No…”
”No…”
Blood continued to flow through his fingers, no matter how hard he pressed down on Gibbs’ thigh. Holding on with one hand, he tore off his shirt, trying to staunch the bleeding by adding even more pressure. Barely aware of his surroundings, he fought to save the man lying in front of him.
“No…” His breath hitched in his throat as slippery fingers fought to find a sign of life.
Not now, when it had barely started. When what he’d yearned for so long had just become within his reach.
A choked sob escaped him as strange hands tried to pry him away from the precious bundle before him. He struggled against them, refusing to let go. A familiar voice, so far away, registered.
“What?”
“Let him go, Tony. Let them do their job, they need to do their job,” Dr Mallard urged as he tugged gently at the senior agent.
“I can’t, Ducky, I can’t…,” he nearly sobbed, but let himself be led away.
A pale Ziva led him to the car, and put him inside. McGee took the backseat, handing him a bottle of water.
“I need to go with Jethro,” Tony argued, “I need to be at the hospital!”
“Just relax, Tony, we’re going there now. Gibbs is being airvaced to Bethesda.”
“Don’t tell me to fucking relax, Probie! He could be dying, and I’m not there...” his voice caught in his throat as the possibility of loosing him threatened to overwhelm him. “Shit, get a grip, DiNozzo,” he swore under his breath, “this is not helping.”
“I’m sorry, Tim, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay, Tony, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I know how you…” McGee broke off, gripping the door as Ziva wove through traffic at breakneck speed. “Jesus, Ziva,” he exclaimed, “we’d like to get there alive, for crying out loud!”
She didn’t even bother to reply, just shot him a glance in the rear view mirror, her eyes unreadable, her expression neutral. This was Ziva in full combat mode, McGee realised, cool and calm.
The trip to Bethesda seemed to take forever. As many times as Tony had driven this distance, never had it seemed so long, never had so many cars been out on the roads, their only objective to slow them down. He clenched his cell phone in his hand, willing it to ring, willing it to be a bearer of good news. It stayed silent.
******
Tony burst through the doors of the hospital, only to find an agent he recognised as working for Special Agent Wilson’s team waiting for him. He led them through the halls, until they arrived at the ICU where Gibbs would be brought after his surgery. A pale Ducky was there, pacing the floor along with the Director. Tony felt an irrational surge of jealousy towards her, knowing full well the history that existed between them. She was aware of his antagonism, although he didn’t expect her to understand fully why.
He briefly wondered if Ducky knew, and what had McGee meant in the car? He shook it off. That was so not important right now.
“Any news, Ducky? Will he make it?”
“He’s still in surgery, Anthony. As far as I know, he’s lost an awful amount of blood, but he’s strong, my boy, he’s very strong.“
Taking him by the arm, Ducky led him away from the group, into a restroom at the end of the hall.
“You need to clean up, he said, pointing him in the direction of the sink.
Tony realised he was covered in Gibbs’ blood, and suddenly he was scrubbing away vigorously, coloring the water pink. When he was done, Ducky handed him a plain white t-shirt, which he pulled on. He had no idea where the good doctor had found it.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m…I will be fine as soon as I know he’ll live,” he whispered, leaning against the older man, seeking strength and support. Ducky held him tight for a moment, before releasing him as Abby burst through the doors, tears streaming down her face.
“Will he be okay, Ducky? I don’t think I can bear it if anything happened to him…”she trailed off, all her usual exuberance and energy gone. They all returned to the waiting room, preparing themselves for a long afternoon.
The next few hours were spent waiting and pacing, up and down the halls, drinking what felt like gallons of coffee. Late in the afternoon, Director Shepard had to leave. He barely registered something about MTAC, not really caring why she left.
Finally the surgeon was there, talking first to Ducky, then the rest of the team. Tony was still holding Abby in his arms; she’d finally dozed off an hour ago.
“The bullet injured his femoral artery, but not completely severing it. This, along with the first aid treatment he received on site, prevented him from bleeding out. Otherwise it was a through and through shot. He should make a full recovery. Under the circumstances, Agent Gibbs was a lucky man.” He nodded to Ducky and the team, leaving them to digest the news.
“McGee, take Abby home. You and Ziva should return to the office first thing in the morning, to wrap up the case. Right now, you all need to rest.” Ducky ordered, his manner making it very clear this was not a suggestion.
“Anthony, come with me. We’ll only be a few minutes, Abigail,” he said, before leading Tony into Gibbs’ room. The room was dimly lit. Gibbs was hooked up to more machines than Tony thought possible. A petite nurse was checking his vitals, filling in a chart as she registered the different read-outs.
“Tony,” Doctor Mallard began, I know you want to stay with him, but he won’t regain consciousness for at least eight hours. He’s heavily sedated. You will be here when he wakes up, I give you my word, my dear boy.”
“But…” Tony protested, not ready to give up without a fight.
“I’ve also left word with the guards at head quarters. You’re barred from the building. You WILL go home and get some rest.”
Tony had to smile. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”
“I’ve learned from the best,” Ducky replied, patting him on the back. “I will stay with him tonight. If there are any changes, I promise you I will give you a call.”
The drive home went by in a blur. He’d opted for a cab, not having the energy to deal with other agents, nor the rest of the team. Abby was taken care of, McGee has texted him to let him know she was safely tucked away in his bed. Ziva would take care of herself, having refused she needed company, dodging invitations from both Abby and McGee.
Unlocking his front door, he thought it almost surreal that only this morning he’d woken up to find Gibbs in his bed, drinking his first cup of coffee that day. Shedding his clothes as he walked to the bathroom, Tony couldn’t remember when he’d felt so tired last. Turning on the water, he decided it didn’t matter. Not in the least. All that mattered was the fact that the man he loved would be ok.
Leaning against the cool tiles of his shower, Tony tried to seek comfort in the fact that Gibbs would live. “I didn’t lose you,” he whispered, over and over again. As the water started to cool, he stepped out of the shower, barely having the energy to dry off before he staggered into his bedroom. Inside he collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep almost immediately.
******
At six a.m. he was wide awake, and rearing to go to Bethesda. Stopping to buy a sandwich at a deli nearby, he was relieved to find the waiting room deserted. He didn’t feel like dealing with the rest of the team until he’d seen Gibbs. Ducky was talking to a dark haired doctor as he rounded the corner, in search of Gibbs room.
“Anthony! You’re early, although I must say I have been expecting you since about four a.m.,” he smiled.
“My brain kinda short circuited,” he said, feeling kind of sheepish. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Please, don’t get me wrong. It was the only sensible thing to do. You’ll need your strength today, if you’re staying as long as I suspect you will.”
“Listen, Ducky,” he hesitated, “could I get some time alone with him, even if the rest of the team arrives? I really need to…”
“No need to explain, my dear boy, I’ll keep them away for a while,” Ducky reassured him, making himself scarce.
Entering the quiet room, Tony sought out the pale form lying under the covers. Still hooked up to too much machinery, Tony negotiated tubes and wires until he was able to hold Gibbs’ hand in his. He was sitting on Gibbs’ right side, him being shot in the left leg. Leaning his head against the bed, he just sat there, so infinitely relived to be there, to be able to be close.
He felt a slight stir, and lifted his head to look at Gibbs.
“Hey,” Gibbs croaked, “what happened…where am I?”
“You were injured,” Tony explained with more calm than he felt. “You will be fine.”
“I …”
“Don’t talk, Jethro, just sleep. I’ll be here.” Tony put his head back on the bed and felt Gibbs run his hand through his hair, before resting it on his neck.
“I love you, Tony,” he whispered, letting his fingers gently caress the man beside him.
“Love you, too, Jethro,” Tony replied, before drifting off.
Neither man noticed the dark haired woman silently slipping out of the room, pigtails bouncing as a smile formed around her mouth.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Ooooh!!”
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs is injured, leaving Tony in fear of his life.
Chapter End Notes:
Don't own them, still loves to play.