Todd wasn’t sure how much more he could take. If he could only have a drink, then everything would be all right. The pain would stop and so would the dreams. He could stay in a drunken stupor and not have to think about the daily torments that faced him in his life. When he was drunk, he didn’t have a care in the world. He didn’t need food, warmth or comfort from anybody, he got everything he needed from a bottle and he didn’t have to face the demons that haunted him.
He uselessly tugged at the restraints again, knowing that his efforts to escape his bonds would be in vain. How much longer were they going to keep him tied down? Todd couldn’t understand why these people who said that they cared for him would subject him to something that literally terrified him.
Todd jumped as someone touched his face. He opened his eyes to see the woman with the strange accent taking a damp washcloth over his face. The coolness was refreshing and her touch was gentle, but he had learned that people’s intentions could be deceiving. Although he had to admit that he did like her smile, he would not permit himself to become too complacent. There was an air of mystery about this woman that confused and frightened him. How could he have mistaken her for Kate? Kate never scared him.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked him, her voice having an almost hypnotic affect on him.
“Stupid…question,” he mumbled.
“Besides a drink,” she added.
“No.”
“I would be happy to see if you can have some broth. You need to get something on your stomach.”
“I’m fine,” he slurred. “Just need out of here.”
“As soon as you are better, I am sure that you will be released.”
“Can’t wait that long. I just want to go home.”
He flinched as she brushed his hair out of his face. Todd saw a flicker of sadness spread across her beautiful features. “Too pretty to be sad,” he said.
“I am just worried about you, Ton…I mean Todd.”
“So, you think I’m this Tony, too?”
“Yes.”
Todd moaned as a wave of agony assaulted him. “God!” he cried out. “Make it stop!”
He began to writhe in pain, pleading for someone to take away his torment. “Please, make it stop. Give me something!” he begged.
“I have buzzed the nurse and she is on her way. Just hang up, Todd.”
“On,” he corrected, gritting his teeth against the anguish that was consuming him.
“It’s hang on…Ziva…not hang…up,” he panted. “You…were…getting…better.”
Todd felt her grasp his hand. He tightened his own grip, unaware of how just how hard he was squeezing. He heard her gasp but he was afraid to let go; she was his lifeline in the sea of pain that he was drowning in.
He heard her say something to the nurse and in just a few minutes, the pain began to subside into a dull ache. Through bleary eyes, he looked at the woman who was still by his side, holding his hand.
“You’re name…is…Ziva,” he rasped.
“Yes.”
“Not Kate?”
“No. I am not Kate. Kate is dead.”
“I know. I still see…her…sometimes.”
“You’re Ziva,” he repeated.
“Yes. How do you remember my name?” she wanted to know.
“I don’t know.” Todd swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t know how I know your name. You think…I’m Tony. Were you and…Tony…close?”
“Close? I am not sure what you mean,” she quietly answered.
Todd could feel his cheeks flush. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Ziva smiled at him; again he was captivated by her beautiful smile. “We are close,” she replied. “We are very good friends.”
“Oh.”
“Do you remember anything else besides my name?” she pressed.
“Where’s Abby?” He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt so uncomfortable around Ziva. Was she lying about her relationship with this Tony? He knew that Abby would be honest with him. There was no sense of duplicity in her or Ducky for that matter, but he still preferred the Goth’s company.
“She is at NCIS processing evidence,” Ziva replied. “You need to get some sleep. She will be here as soon as she can.”
Todd nodded. He didn’t want to sleep, but he didn’t want to stay awake. He wanted to go home, even if that home was just a box or a shelter. What right did these people have in interfering in his life? A myriad of emotions began to wash over him; sadness, confusion, anger and without his bottle of liquor, he had no idea how to handle these feelings.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself to slip into the darkness of slumber. The last thing that he thought of was the fact that even with all these people that were caring for him, in the end it wasn’t going to matter. Todd Gibbs had stopped caring about himself a long time ago.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Ducky listened intently as Dr. Cole described Tony’s condition and what course of treatment that he preferred to pursue. The Scotsman considered the doctor knowledgeable and truly seemed to have Tony’s best interests in mind. He couldn’t blame Jethro for wanting a second opinion, but he knew that the team leader was not going to be pleased that the ME was agreeing with Dr. Cole.
“I know that Agent Gibbs believes that Tony will suffer less if he undergoes rapid detoxification, but given Agent DiNozzo’s condition, I believe that it will create more problems than solutions. Rapid detox is not a cure all, especially for alcoholics. I know that the withdrawal has been painful for Tony, but we are easing the effects with medication. He should be through the worst of the physical withdrawal within the next couple of days and then we can start concentrating on getting him back on his feet,” Dr. Cole explained.
The ME sighed. “I don’t doubt what you’re saying Dr. Cole, and from what I’ve read about rapid detoxification, I have to agree. I also understand where Jethro is coming from. Tony has been missing for a year and has no memory of who he is. Every day we see signs that Anthony is still with us, but Jethro doesn’t want small victories, he wants to win the war.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following you, Doctor Mallard.”
“Tony is like a son to Jethro and Jethro is the father that Tony never had. There has always been that connection from the first day they met; of course, they would never admit to having those feelings, but it is in their actions. When Tony disappeared, it was like Jethro was losing his family all over again. You see, his first wife and daughter were murdered many years ago and he’s truly never gotten over that and losing Tony only added to his pain.
“When we found young Anthony the other day, a spark returned to Jethro’s eyes that had been missing for quite some time. He doesn’t want to see his son suffer and I’m sure that if you were in his shoes, you would want to put an end to your son’s suffering as quickly as possible. So, instead of fighting so many small battles, the Marine in Jethro concentrates on winning the war.”
Ducky watched as Dr. Cole sat back in his chair, absorbing all of what the ME had shared with him. “I do understand what Agent Gibbs is going through,” he said.
“You do?” Ducky inquired.
“Yes. My own son was an alcoholic.”
“I see. May ask what happened to your son? Is he still sober?”
Dr. Cole shook his head. “No, he’s dead. He checked into a clinic and tried the rapid detox against my advice. He wouldn’t check in the hospital because he was afraid of tarnishing my name. Michael‘s body couldn’t handle the stress and he went into cardiac arrest. It turns out the clinic was less than reputable and…”
Ducky found it difficult to swallow past the lump that had formed in his throat. “I am so sorry, Dr. Cole.”
“It happened about three years ago and I guess that I vowed that I wouldn’t lose another person to alcoholism. That’s why I have devoted my time to research and I know what works. I hope that Agent Gibbs can trust my judgment.”
He smiled at Dr. Cole. “By the time I get through with him, he will. I can promise you that.”
“Thank you, Dr. Mallard.”
“My pleasure Dr. Cole,” he assured the other man. “My pleasure. Now, I’m going to check on Anthony one more time before I leave and find Jethro.”
“Good luck, Doctor.”
“Thank you.”
The two men shook hands and Ducky left the office, satisfied that Tony was in good hands. His heart went out to Dr. Cole, knowing that this case was reopening old wounds for the man. Hopefully helping Tony would enable the doctor to put some of his ghosts to rest; the burden of a child’s death was not an easy thing to live with.
He peeked in Tony’s room to discover that the young man was still asleep and Ziva was still by his side. The Mossad officer looked up and Ducky quietly acknowledged her by tipping his hat. The ME smiled and turned to leave. He reached in his pocket for his cell phone and called Gibbs.
“Gibbs,” the team leader tersely answered.
“Jethro, I’ve talked with Dr. Cole,” he informed the ex-Marine.
“And?”
“And I think we need to talk…”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
He watched and listened as Captain Wells and his attorney talked with Gibbs. Knowing that his Boss would settle for nothing less than a full confession in order to clear Tony’s name, McGee realized that it could be a very long night. Maybe he should have volunteered to go the hospital, but the junior agent had been glad that Ziva had volunteered to go to the hospital and stay with Tony.
McGee wasn’t sure that he was ready to see his friend in such a dismal condition. It was still hard for him to believe that the man that they had discovered on the streets was actually Tony. Much to the displeasure of his colleagues, he had almost come to accept the fact that DiNozzo was gone. Abby had been mad at him for days for even hinting that Tony could be dead. Gibbs had clenched his jaw and glared at him, not speaking to him unless it was absolutely necessary and Ziva had simply shrugged and said for him not to give up hope.
But how he was he supposed to maintain a modicum of hope when the agent had been missing for a year? Tony had proved time and time again to be one of the most resourceful men that he had known, but even the most capable man had his faults and DiNozzo had many. He was arrogant, brash, annoying, sometime childish and goofy, but somehow his good qualities outweighed his bad.
Tony was someone who he could count on to always watch his six whether in the field or in the office. How many times did he owe Tony for deflecting Gibbs’ wrath and taking it upon himself? How many times did he owe Tony his life? It had taken him a while to discover that there were many layers to Anthony DiNozzo and with every layer that was revealed, a new aspect of Tony’s true character came shining through.
Now, Tony was alive and in the hospital going through withdrawal with no memory of his past. McGee knew that if Tony truly remembered his former life that he wouldn’t have turned to alcohol to help cope with his situation. McGee recalled a conversation they had during a stake out a few months before Tony went undercover.
***flashback***
“How much longer before Gibbs and Ziva relieve us?” Tony asked.
McGee glanced at his watch. “Three.”
“Three hours? Oh, man. It feels like we’ve been here for three days,” the senior agent complained.
“Time will go a lot faster if you stop whining,” Tim replied.
“I’m not whining. I was merely stating a fact, Probie.”
“You were whining.”
“Nope. DiNozzo’s don’t whine. It was never allowed.”
McGee took a sip of coffee. “What do you mean?”
“Whining was not allowed in the DiNozzo household.”
“Really? Why not?”
McGee wasn’t sure if Tony heard him. DiNozzo had become quiet, almost immediately withdrawing from the conversation. “Tony? Did you hear me?” he asked.
“Yeah, McGoo, I heard you.”
“So, why wasn’t whining allowed?” Tim asked again.
“My father felt that whining was a sign of ungratefulness.”
“I don’t understand why your father would think that.”
“You don’t know my father, McGee. In his eyes, the fact that I was breathing was a sign of weakness.”
“Come on, Tony. You talk like your dad didn’t want you.”
Tony laid his head against the head rest of the car. “Well McBeaver, not everyone had parents like June and Ward Cleaver,” DiNozzo retorted.
McGee rolled his eyes at the barb. “My family wasn’t perfect either, Tony.”
“Never said they were, McGee.”
“Yes, you did. You just said…”
“Forget it,” Tony snapped.
The two men sat in silence for a few minutes until McGee summoned the courage to shatter the stillness. “I’m sorry, Tony. I shouldn’t have…”
“Don’t worry about it, McGee. The past is the past and you can’t change it. You have to accept it and move on.”
“If you could change the past, what would you change?”
He could sense that Tony was sincerely considering his question. After a few seconds, DiNozzo answered, “I don’t know. I don’t guess I’ve really ever thought about it until now.”
“There must be something that you would do different,” McGee pressed.
“I guess so. If I had it to do all over again, I would have taken every bottle of liquor in the house and poured it out.”
McGee stared at Tony in amazement. That was not the answer that he was expecting. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said.”
“I take it your dad drank a lot,” Tim deduced.
“Guess you could say that. It turned him into a monster and every day I would stand there in his study and watch it happen before my eyes. One day, I grabbed the bottle from his desk and threw it on the floor.”
“What happened?”
DiNozzo sighed. “Don’t remember much after that. I was unconscious for a few days and then after I woke up, I was disinherited and on my way to a boarding school.”
“You were in a coma?” Tim asked, not bothering to hide the disbelief that he was feeling.
“Yeah. Anyway, I told myself that I would never become like my father.”
“But I’ve seen you hung over. Are you sure that your not…” Tony’s icy glare prohibited McGee from finishing his question.
“No, McGee, I’m not an alcoholic. Yeah, I’ve been hung over a few times in my life, but unlike my father, I know when to stop.”
Tony grabbed the binoculars from McGee and stared out the window at the house they were watching. “Now, stay focused on the case, Probie.”
“Tony?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, McGee. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know, but…”
“McGee, don’t make me head slap you,” DiNozzo warned.
Tim grinned at the senior agent. “Got it.”
***end flashback***
“McGee!”
The young man startled at the sound of Gibbs’ voice. He cut on the microphone and answered, “Yes, Boss?”
“Get in here!” the team leader ordered.
He quickly left the observation room and entered the interrogation room. “Yes, Boss?”
“We have a confession. I need you to review the statement and be sure that everything is in order with the autopsy and the evidence. I don’t want this coming back and biting us in the ass.”
“Understood.”
“I’ll be back in a little while, I…” the team leader was interrupted by his ringing phone.
McGee followed him outside into the corridor and waited patiently as Gibbs answered his cell.
“Gibbs,” the ex-Marine barked.
He watched Gibbs listen for a second before replying, “And?” Another brief pause. “I’ll be waiting on you, Duck.”
McGee waited until Gibbs had put his phone in his pocket. “Anything wrong, Boss? Was that about Tony?”
“Finish up here and then go home and get some rest,” Gibbs instructed. “I expect you at the hospital tomorrow morning.”
“The…uh…hospital?” Tim stammered.
“Yeah. You’re the only one that hasn’t seen Tony yet,” the older agent pointed out. “If DiNozzo’s going to pull through this, he’s going to need all our support.”
“But I…uh…”
He swallowed nervously as Gibbs stared at him. “Is there a problem?”
“He doesn’t remember me, Boss.”
“He doesn’t remember me either, but that still doesn’t stop me from wanting to help him.”
“It’s not that. It’s just that…”
“What McGee?”
Taking a deep breath, the young man exhaled in an effort to organize his thoughts. “I’m just having a hard time accepting that it’s really Tony.”
“He’s having a hard time too, McGee.”
“I know. I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Nervous or scared?” Gibbs challenged.
“I don’t know.”
McGee forced himself to stand still as Gibbs stood just a few centimeters from his face. He would never forget the ex-sniper’s cool tone nor his words as Gibbs forced him to acknowledge his own weaknesses.
“Tony has been through hell this last year and it doesn’t matter what he’s become, deep down he is still Anthony DiNozzo. Your image of him may have been tarnished, but he is still the same man. If you’re choosing to give up on him, then you can find yourself another team. You and I both know that if this had happened to you or me or to Ziva, Tony would be right there for us, trying to help us. We owe him that and so much more. Have I made myself clear, Agent McGee?” Gibbs challenged.
“Yes sir,” McGee said.
“Good. Now, I expect you at the hospital first thing in the morning and don’t forget the coffee!”
As Gibbs stormed off, presumably heading towards autopsy, McGee leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Was Gibbs right? Was he unintentionally punishing Tony for something that he had no control over? Why was he scared to face Tony? Was it own shortcomings that he was afraid to face? At the moment, he wasn’t sure that it truly mattered; the only thing that mattered right now was pushing his own fears aside and helping his friend.
Chapter End Notes:
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