Gibbs silently followed Dewing down the corridor, still somewhat dazed by the brief stop at the nurses’ station where she had him officially listed as ‘family’ for Tony. The nurse didn’t ask for any sort of ID or clarification as to how he was related, she simply took Dewing at her word.
Gibbs shook his head, bemused. He hadn’t expected Dewing to do more than simply escort him to Tony’s room. He found himself wondering if she actually thought of him as part of Tony’s family, or if it was just a convenient way to add him to the list of approved visitors. Shrugging his shoulders, Gibbs decided it didn’t matter. Being on the list meant he was clear to see Tony any time he wanted. And he was grateful to be given ready access.
Walking past small waiting room alcove, Gibbs’ eyed it warily. He unconsciously braced himself for whomever and whatever he might find there. He breathed easier when he saw it was empty. Waiting rooms tended to harbor frightened, forlorn people. And in Gibbs’ case they might also harbor some of Tony’s coworkers. Gibbs wasn’t sure if they were still hostile towards him, but the hospital wasn’t the place he wanted to find out
Gibbs eyed the short hallway uneasily. The bland gray walls and shiny floor were similar to every other hospital he’d ever been in. The smell of disinfectant and sound of humming florescent lights that were never turned off was the same too.
Gibbs shrugged his shoulders trying to dispel the uneasy. He never felt comfortable in hospitals. There was nothing he could do here to make things better, to put things right…for himself or anyone else. He was also at the mercy of the doctors, nurses and fate. And he hated it.
He hated everything about them. Hospitals were always seemed to rife with pain, fear and desperation. Maybe that was just ER’s and ICU’s. Gibbs didn’t know if other areas of the hospital had better atmosphere, he’d never spent much time in other departments to find out.
Gibbs made note of the room numbers, looking for the room Dewing said Tony was in. His jaw clenched when he realized he could pick Tony’s room out even without the numbers. The uniformed officer guarding the door was a dead give away.
“Is he still in danger?” Gibbs asked Dewing quietly before flushing as he realized how stupid that question was. There wouldn’t be a guard at the door for no reason. “Did some of the arms dealers or gang members get a good look at him?” He wanted to know what to expect, how to assess the possible threat.
“We don’t know.” Dewing shrugged one shoulder. “It was too chaotic for most of us to know anything for sure about who saw what or where they went when the shit hit the fan. We haven’t identified all the players, Gibbs, but given how things went down---”
She shook her head, sighing heavily. “If most of the team weren’t walking wounded, we could take care of our own. But as it is… Beaumont thought it was better to have a little added manpower when it came to looking out for those of us who weren’t mobile.”
Gibbs nodded. “Lundy has one too then?”
“Yep.”
Dewing nodded to the uniformed officer. She pointed to Gibbs with her thumb over her shoulder. “Ellis, this is Gibbs. He’s on the list.”
Ellis didn’t question her assertion. He simply stared at Gibbs, dark eyes scanning his face no doubt committing it to memory. Ellis nodded once, and stepped away from the door giving them access.
Gibbs was surprised when Dewing rapped lightly on the door before opening it. With Tony in a coma that courtesy was hardly necessary. Stepping into the room behind her, Gibbs realized immediately why she’d knocked---Roberto Mendez was sitting in the chair by Tony’s bed.
Like Dewing, Mendez sported a few bruises on his face, but what Gibbs noticed immediately was the cast he had on his left arm. It encased his arm all the way from his hand up past his elbow. The bright neon green color nearly made Gibbs wince. He hadn’t known casts came in more choices than white.
Dewing cocked her head, eyeing his cast. “You let LaFiamma pick the color?”
“Lost a bet.” Mendez shrugged. “Could have been worse.”
She raised both eyebrows. “How?”
“They have hot pink too.”
“Yeah, that would be worse.”
Gibbs tuned out whatever else they were saying, his focus on the man lying so still in the narrow bed. The former Marine tried not to let the stillness worry him. It wasn’t like Tony to be motionless. It wasn’t like him to be so pale either. His skin was nearly waxy in appearance reminding Gibbs of the bodies he saw on Ducky’s autopsy tables. Tony wasn’t dead, he reminded himself. He was in a bed, getting treatment, he wasn’t dead.
Gibbs hesitantly approached the bed. The heart monitor beeped with a reassuringly consistent frequency. The respirator’s presence was less reassuring. Gibbs flinched at the sound of it breathing for Tony. The soft mechanical whoosh was unnatural as hell. It was foreign and Gibbs hated even looking at the tube in Tony’s mouth.
Gibbs grimaced as he noticed it wasn’t the only tube attached to the younger man. Ducky had explained what the chest tube was and what it was intended to do, but Gibbs hadn’t expected to see any blood. Nor had he expected to feel his gut contract in sympathetic pain when he realized the tube actually punctured Tony’s chest, passing between his ribs. That had to hurt and he found himself momentarily glad Tony was in a medically induced coma. He was at least spared that pain.
Gibbs gaze was drawn back to Tony’s face. Most people would think•even with the damn respirator tube in place and his pale complexion---he looked like he was just sleeping, but Gibbs knew better. Even in repose, Tony was animated---his eyes would move under closed lids, he’d smile or frown or sometimes wince, he’d snore, his breathing would change, he’d shift position. Gibbs had seen Tony sleep enough to know. The lack of expression, the absence of movement, the regular and artificial breathing pattern were all…wrong. No, Tony wasn’t asleep.
Gibbs reached out to touch him, but stopped short of actual contact. There were IV’s in both arms and he was afraid of dislodging anything that might be vital for keeping Tony alive. The need for a physical connection overrode his fear allowing Gibbs to finally curl his fingers around Tony’s hand. Tony’s hand was warm, and Gibbs bowed his head in relief. Warm was good. Warm was alive.
“Gibbs?”
Something in Dewing’s tone made Gibbs aware that it probably wasn’t the first time she’d tried to get his attention. Gibbs sighed silently, ashamed of himself. It was embarrassing to have lost track of his surroundings that way. He wasn’t a probie, damn it. He wasn’t a virgin when it came to seeing people with their lives hanging in the balance…but this was Tony. He wasn’t just anyone.
Gibbs raised his head to look at her. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
He took a breath, clearing his throat. “I’m fine.”
Mendez snorted. “Sure you are.”
Gibbs glared at him. Tired brown eyes met his easily. “Just as fine as the rest of us, aren’t you?”
Gibbs blinked, surprised by the lack of hostility in Mendez’s question. He realized everything he was feeling….the helplessness of knowing there was nothing he could do, the desperate desire for all this to just be a bad dream, the anger at the situation, the fear that Tony might not make it…all of it was something Tony’s partner had already experienced. Gibbs wasn’t alone in this, nor were his feelings any more or less than those of Tony’s friends and coworkers.
When Tony had the plague it had only been the team who was there to worry about him. Gibbs was glad Tony had more people in his life who cared about him, but felt a surge of something he couldn’t name at the same time. For as much as their relationship had improved, Tony might not want Gibbs here. He might prefer to have Mendez, LaFiamma or Lundy at his bedside. He might not need Gibbs in his corner; he might resent LaFiamma even calling Gibbs.
Gibbs unconsciously tightened his hold on Tony’s hand. His chin came up in defiance. Tony might not want or need him here, his teammates might not want him around, but Gibbs wasn’t leaving.
“I’m staying.”
Mendez’s eyebrows rose. “Didn’t hear anyone ask you to leave.”
Gibbs felt his face warm. He hadn’t realized he’d even spoken until Mendez responded. Dewing’s lips curled upward in a small smile. When she spoke it was obvious she had no trouble figuring out what Gibbs had been thinking.
“Joe never would have called you or sent me to pick you up at the airport if you weren’t welcome here.” Her smile grew to a grin. “You might be a bastard, Gibbs, no one is arguing that, but every family has one, and I guess that makes you ours.”
“Besides, Tony likes you. God only knows why, but he does.” Mendez shook his head. “And he trusts you. That I do understand…sort of.”
Dewing chuckled. “You’ll get it eventually, Robbie.”
“About the time Satan learns to ice skate.” Mendez sighed. His gaze shifted to Tony. He bit his lower lip. “I’ll need him to explain it to me again. He’ll have time to do that when he gets better.”
It was more of a question than a statement. The unspoken ‘if he gets better’ handing in the air. The fear that Tony could still die readily apparent in the way Mendez looked at Tony.
Gibbs spoke firmly, “Yes, he will get better.” Tony would recover. Gibbs would not believe any other outcome was possible. Abby would call it the power of positive energy, but to Gibbs it was simply the only possible alternative.
Mendez nodded. He raised his hand to rub his eyes, pushing his wire rimmed glasses up on to his head as he did so.
Dewing crouched next to his chair. “Robbie, go home. Get some rest.”
“I’m okay.”
“Never said you weren’t.” Dewing patted his shoulder. “But you’ll be better with a little sleep.”
He rolled his eyes, repositioning his glasses again on his nose. “Hello, Pot.”
“You should listen to me, Kettle.” She smiled. “I know of which I speak.”
Mendez looked at Tony again. “I don’t want to leave him alone.”
“He won’t be alone,” Gibbs said softly. He squeezed the hand he still held. He knew it was foolish but he couldn’t help hoping for some sort of response. He wanted Tony to squeeze back, to open his eyes so Gibbs would know he was still present and paying attention.
Mendez studied Gibbs for a long moment. Gibbs wasn’t sure exactly what the Hispanic cop was looking for but was relieved when he apparently found it and nodded once. Mendez shifted in the chair, levering himself out of it with help from Dewing.
“Getting old sucks, don’t it?” She asked in a teasing tone, no doubt making light of whatever injuries Mendez had, other than the obvious broken arm, which made standing up more difficult than it should be.
“Shut up,” he said, but the command lacked any real heat. “How many tries did it take you to get out of this damn thing last night?”
“Doesn’t matter.” She grinned. “I managed to do it on my own.”
Mendez flipped her off. She gave him a dirty look. “Play nice or next time I’ll leave you stuck in that contraption.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She nodded. “That’s better.”
Mendez moved closer to the bed. He bent down and spoke softly to Tony. “Amigo, you get better. I’m not doing your paperwork this time. Bad enough I had to do it the last time. I still say you rigged it. No way you could have made that shot otherwise. I’m going to make you do it again so you better be ready when you wake up.”
Gibbs was surprised when Mendez kissed Tony on the forehead. “That’s from Angela. She’s not happy about you getting hurt. Not happy about me getting hurt either. I already got an earful from her so you don’t get to say anything, comprende?”
Mendez placed another kiss on Tony’s forehead. “That one is from Maria. She promised to draw you a picture with the crayons you got her. I told her you’d like that, but she will want to hear it from you, Tony. No one else’s opinion of her art matters as much as yours.”
Gibbs frowned wondering who Angela and Maria were before he remembered Tony mentioning his partner had a sister with a little girl who was almost three years old and a two month old baby boy. According to Tony, Mendez and his sister were very close, eating dinner together at least once a week if not more. Tony had commented on being invited to those family dinners, but he’d been so low key about it Gibbs had gotten the impression he hadn’t accepted the invitation or didn’t go very often. Clearly, he was mistaken about that.
Mendez straightened, wincing as he did so. He looked at Gibbs. “You watch out for him, Gibbs.”
“I will.”
“You too, Dewing.”
She saluted him with two fingers.
“I’ll check on Lundy and LaFiamma before I leave.”
“Tell them I’ll be by in a little while.”
“Will do.” They bumped fists before Mendez headed for the door. From the stiff way he moved, Gibbs guessed he had a few cracked or broken ribs of his own. By all rights he should probably have been in a bed of his own, but Gibbs understood why he had been sitting with Tony instead.
“You want to sit down?” Dewing asked.
Gibbs shook his head. She hadn’t made a big deal out of it, but Gibbs knew she had to be hurting. He couldn’t take a seat she might need more. And the chair was simply too far away from Tony. He wanted to be as close as possible now that he was finally at Tony’s side.
Gibbs lightly stroked Tony’s knuckles with this thumb. He continued to try ignoring the respirator. It was there to help Tony, no matter how foreign it looked and sounded. Ducky said it was necessary, and Gibbs trusted the older man to know what Tony had to have to stay alive.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there just watching Tony’s chest rise and fall when Dewing approached the bed. She ran her fingers through Tony’s hair. She smiled softly.
“I’m going to go see how Lundy and LaFiamma are holding up. I’ll make sure they are behaving.” She bent down and kissed his cheek. “You rest, Slick. You’ll be up and around in no time.”
Gibbs knew he should go see Lundy and LaFiamma as well, but he didn’t want to leave. He’d told Mendez Tony would be alone. He could go to see them…later.
She looked at Gibbs. “You want anything while I’m out?”
“Coffee.”
She nodded. Her blue eyes went to Tony’s face, and she ran a knuckle lightly along one cheekbone in a gentle caress. Gibbs wondered if there was anything romantic going on between the two of them. Dewing was certainly a beautiful woman. She was also smart and capable. It was a combination Tony would have trouble resisting. But the vibe Gibbs got from her wasn’t concerned lover, if anything, it was more akin to the way Abby acted around Tony---like they were siblings.
“You should talk to him.” Dewing said as she headed for the door. She her next statement was tossed out casually before she stepped out of the room. “People in comas can hear even if they can’t respond. I think he’d appreciate knowing you were here.”
Gibbs glared at the closing door. Tony knew he was here. Didn’t he? He’d spoken to Mendez and Dewing. It wasn’t like he’d just walked in the room silently. Not that he’d actually said anything to Tony, but he was holding his hand after all. Wasn’t that enough? Gibbs frowned. Maybe not if everyone touched him. Dewing and Mendez had.
Talk to him, she said. Like it was so easy. Nothing to it. Gibbs snorted. It was the same advice Ducky or even Abby would have given him, so he really shouldn’t resent it---but he did. Damn, DiNozzo, Gibbs thought, why is everyone you work with in Houston so pushy? And do they have to be right all the time?
He looked around the room, painfully aware of how much it resembled the room Tony had spent several days in while recovering from the plague. At least this time there was no need for blue lights or people wearing protective clothing.
Even knowing that the odds for recovery were better than when Tony had the plague, Gibbs still worried. All the machinery and tubes, Tony’s stillness, his pale complexion---it all left him feeling the same fear he had then. That Tony might not make it.
Gibbs suddenly knew what to say. He leaned forward so that he could speak into Tony’s ear. “DiNozzo, are you listening to me? You will not die. You hear me. You will not die.”
It had worked the last time. It would work this time as well. Gibbs squeezed Tony’s hand again. It had to.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs gets to see Tony in the hospital