Tony sat in the waiting area, his stomach tied in knots as the time for his appointment drew near. He still didn’t understand why Gibbs had insisted on being fifteen minutes early; as far as Tony was concerned, it was fifteen extra minutes that his mind could conjure up those fears that he desperately tried to keep hidden. Whoever had said that the only thing to fear was fear itself, was an idiot.
There were days when he would wake up after a particularly hard drinking binge, afraid of the world that he was forced to face. His nightmares would haunt him during the day; jumbled images from the past horrors that he endured would leave him trembling like a frightened child. Now that he was sober, the memories were at times overwhelming as he tried to figure out the missing pieces of the puzzle that had become his life. He was terrified of the possibility of remembering, but it was the idea of having strangers sift through his thoughts, forcing him to acknowledge the fact that he was a coward, added to the ever growing burden that he was carrying. Until this moment, Tony had never realized how much he had been depending on the alcohol to control his fear.
His leg bounced up and down, the motion exacerbated by his increasing nervousness. Tony silently wished for the drink that he knew he would never be able to have. He jumped as a hand reached out and grabbed his knee in an effort to still his constant motion. He followed the arm that was attached to the long, delicate fingers enveloping his knee cap.
He met Abby’s concerned gaze; her compassionate smile instantly putting him at ease. “Maybe giving you the last half of my Caf-Pow wasn’t such a good idea,” the Goth teased.
Tony’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I guess not,” he admitted.
“Don’t worry,” she encouraged him. ‘You’ll get used to it.”
“That’s what Gibbs says about his…”
“Coffee?”
He looked up to see the ex-Marine holding two cups of steaming coffee. Tony sighed as he took the offered cup, silently willing his trembling hand to stop shaking; he had no desire to end up in the emergency room because he spilled scalding hot coffee on himself. Holding the cup with two hands, he nodded his thanks.
Steeling himself for the bitter taste that normally accompanied Gibbs’ brew, Tony was pleasantly surprised to find that his coffee was laced with a sweet, nutty flavor.
“Hazelnut,” Gibbs explained as he took a sip of his own coffee.
“At least it’s drinkable,” Tony pointed out.
“Matter of opinion, DiNozzo.”
Tony glanced at the clock on the wall. Five more minutes until he saw Dr. Cole; five minutes until the physician realized it had been a mistake to release him; five minutes until he had to admit that his first night as a so called upstanding citizen and not a homeless drunk, had been a complete and utter failure.
“You okay, Tony?” Gibbs asked, interrupting his private, self-deprecating thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“I think he’s a little nervous,” Abby informed the ex-Marine.
He rolled his eyes at the Goth; someday he would have to teach her the fine art of lying.
“That true?” the team leader questioned.
“I just don’t like doctors,” Tony stated, hoping that Gibbs would simply not push the issue. Of course, once again, fate laughed in his face.
“Cole seems like a good guy. He understands what you’re going through.”
“Whatever,” he sighed. “I still don’t like doctors.”
“You like Ducky,” Abby reminded him.
“Ducky works on dead people.”
“Not all the time. Who do you think patches you and Gibbs up all the time?”
Tony wasn’t completely sure what Abby had meant by that comment, but at the moment, he didn’t have the energy to listen to a lengthy explanation. There were too many thoughts running through his mind and he needed to sort them out before he saw Dr. Cole. He simply acknowledged his friend’s comment with a nod and continued nursing his coffee.
He stared down the hallway, briefly wondering how far he could make it before Abby and Gibbs caught him. Aside from the fact that he still wasn’t too steady on his feet, the only other problem with that plan was that the little voice in the back of his mind was constantly reminding him that he had given the former Marine his word that he wouldn’t run. Sometimes he wanted to strangle that little voice.
The door to the office opened and the nursed called out his name. Tony rose from his seat and paused long enough to make sure that he had his legs under him. He slowly made his way towards the door with Gibbs in tow.
“I don’t need a baby sitter,” Tony mumbled under his breath.
“Didn’t say you did,” Gibbs replied. “I just want to hear what the doctor has to say.”
Tony shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He wondered how Gibbs expected to rebuild that trust between them when he wouldn’t let him out of his sight. Of course, the last time Gibbs had left him alone for a few minutes, he had destroyed the man’s boat. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t blame Gibbs for not trusting him; he didn’t trust himself.
The nurse cleared her throat. “Actually, Dr. Cole wanted to see Mr. DiNozzo alone. He’ll call you back a little later.”
Tony breathed an inward sigh of relief as Gibbs returned to the waiting area. He was grateful that the older man didn’t cause a scene; he didn’t think his nerves would be able to handle another confrontation.
He obediently followed the nurse into the examination room and complied as she took his blood pressure and other vital signs. She jotted something down, but he couldn’t make out exactly what she had written.
“Your blood pressure is a little high,” she said.
“Just don’t like doctor’s offices.”
“White coat syndrome?” she smiled.
“Something like that.”
The nurse nodded and told him that Dr. Cole would be with him shortly. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants legs, wishing that he was anywhere but sitting in a cold examination room, waiting for a doctor who would be asking him a bunch of questions that he didn’t want to answer. Tony swallowed nervously as he heard the doctor and the nurse talking softly just outside his door.
He startled as the door opened suddenly. Tony had been so intent on trying to hear the hushed conversation between Cole and his nurse, he had momentarily forgotten his surroundings. In the past, a mistake like that could have cost him his life. Cursing his complacency, he quickly tried to school his features in an attempt to hide his obvious weakness from the doctor.
The doctor extended his hand and Tony reluctantly shook it, hoping that the physician didn’t pick up on the fact he was trembling. “How’re you feeling, Tony?” Cole inquired.
“Okay,” he lied.
“Really?”
Tony slumped his shoulders as he surrendered his pretense of being fine. Apparently, Gibbs wasn’t the only one that could see right through his false bravado. He was going to have to rebuild those walls soon; the feeling of vulnerability was the one thing that he could not accept.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” the physician asked.
“Not particularly.”
“How about if I just ask you a few questions?”
“I guess,” Tony mumbled, silently wondering if he would even be able to answer them without revealing the fact that he was horrified at the thought of facing life as a sober man.
“We’ll start with something simple,” the doctor began. “Are you in any pain today?”
That question was easy enough. “My muscles are a little sore, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“Any dizziness or weakness?”
Another easy question; he was batting two for two. “A little,” Tony admitted. “Still feel pretty tired.”
“It’s going to take time build your system back up. Are you taking your medicine?”
Tony nodded. “Gibbs is making sure of that.”
“Good. Alcohol really plays havoc with your body and its ability to absorb the nutrients that you need,” Cole explained. “You’re on a pretty strict vitamin regimen to get you back where you need to be.”
The young man sat there, allowing the doctor to fill up the silence with his speech about how Tony could never take another drink and the permanent effects that alcohol could have on a person, both mentally and physically. “I know that you’ve got a hard road ahead of you,” Dr. Cole stated, “but you’ve got some friends who really want to help you.”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t sound convinced of that,” the doctor observed.
“I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Why not?”
“Strange bed.” Tony knew that was a lame excuse. Someone who had been used to sleeping on benches and inside boxes should welcome the opportunity to sleep in a bed.
“I guess that makes sense. I have a hard time sleeping in strange beds as well, but I’m not sure that was the only reason that you couldn’t sleep last night.”
Tony stared straight ahead, refusing to meet the physician’s concerned gaze. He fought the urge to bolt from the room; the need to escape was overwhelming. Gripping the table with his hands, he began to nervously chew on his lip, welcoming the taste of blood. He jumped when Dr. Cole gently squeezed his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Dr. Cole asked, his voice etched with concern.
“Are we done?” he shakily replied, purposefully ignoring the older man’s question.
“For now,” the doctor conceded. “I’ve got your first appointment with Dr. Walters set up for this afternoon at 3.”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Dr. Walters?”
“He’s the psychiatrist that you’ll be seeing to…”
“A shrink?” he blurted out.
“He’s very good and I think he’ll be able to…”
“I don’t need someone else inside my head,” Tony snapped. “There’s no more room.”
“Dr. Walters is very good…”
“I don’t give a damn how good he is! I’m not seeing him.”
“Seeing Dr. Walters was part of the agreement of you being released from the hospital. Didn’t Agent Gibbs mention that you would have sessions with a psychiatrist?”
“No.”
“Tony, Dr. Walters is an expert in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; he will be able to help you get back on your feet,” Dr. Cole tried to reason.
“I’m not seeing him,” Tony forcibly repeated. He was surprised by the dangerous tone of his voice; it had been a long time since he had felt so empowered and he was savoring the moment.
He was glad that Dr. Cole decided not to continue badgering him about seeing the psychiatrist. Tony watched with interest as the physician wrote something in his chart and then closed the file. “I’ll see you in the morning, Tony. Take it easy today.”
Tony hopped off the table and headed back out to the waiting room. He glared at the team leader who was standing just outside the door, waiting his turn to speak with Dr. Cole. “I’m not going to go see a damn shrink,” he growled. The young man walked over to the waiting area and fell into the seat beside Abby.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, he raked his hands through his hair. Abby rubbed his back as he forced himself to calm down. “Are you okay?” she wanted to know.
“Yes!” Tony paused, quickly reevaluating his answer. “No.”
“How about we blow this popsicle stand?” she suggested.
“Don’t we have to wait for Gibbs? He’s got to talk to Cole.”
“Nope. I told him that you would probably need to get some fresh air, so he gave me the keys. Palmer is on his way to pick up Gibbs.”
Tony grinned as he rose from his seat. Abby laced her arm through his and together they walked down the corridor and out the door to the parking lot. Abby opened the door for him and waited until he was situated before buckling his seat belt for him. He rolled his eyes at the kid glove treatment, but managed to keep his comments to himself; Tony would never forgive himself if he hurt Abby’s feelings.
She got in the driver’s seat and started the car. “Are you ready?”
“For what?”
“To go get your tattoo!” she enthusiastically replied.
He nodded as his smile widened. “Let’s do it.”
Tony sat back and closed his eyes as Abby navigated the streets. He cherished the freedom that he now felt. In the hospital, he had been trapped; a feeling that he had become all too familiar with the past year. He couldn’t remember how long he had been held captive, but even after he had been set free to roam the streets, Tony had become a hostage to the alcohol that fueled him day after day. Now, he was free, or at least he thought he was.
It wasn’t long before the car stopped and Abby was gently shaking him, calling his name. He opened his eyes and realized that he must have allowed himself to doze off. “Sorry,” he whispered as he unbuckled his seat belt.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Abby insisted. “You need all the rest you can get.”
He looked out the window at the tattoo parlor, nestled between a small diner and what appeared to be an adult bookstore. Tony glanced at Abby and then back to the shop. “This is it?”
“Yep. Best tattoo parlor on the east coast,” she bragged. “Well, at least in D.C. The guy who’s going to do your tattoo is the best; he’s done all of mine. His name is Leo, you know after Leonardo DaVinci, the artist; he’s really good.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Tony found himself amazed at how easily he trusted Abby. He was completely at ease with the Goth and didn’t feel as if he had to keep his guard up at all times like he did with Gibbs. The former Marine wanted his trust, but Tony was unable to give it completely.
Getting out of the car, he followed Abby into the tattoo parlor where they were greeted by a man who was surprisingly normal in appearance. Tony had been expecting someone dressed similar to the way Abby dressed, but this man looked like he could be on the front of those worn out romance novels that Megan was always reading.
“Good to meet you Tony,” Leo said. “Abby’s told me a lot about you over the years. I must admit that I never thought that you’d willingly set foot in a tattoo parlor; I always thought you didn’t like tattoos.”
Confused, he glanced at Abby, who simply shrugged and said, “Long story. I’ll explain it to you later.”
He surmised that whatever she had to tell him must have to do with his past life as Anthony DiNozzo; it was just another memory that no longer belonged to him.
“So, have you decided what you’re going to go with?” Leo asked.
“Yep,” Abby interjected as she pulled out her phone and showed her friend the picture of the tattoo that he had decided on earlier that day.
“The phoenix.”
Tony nodded. “Rising from the ashes,” he added. He laughed to himself, amazed that he could remember the story of the phoenix rising from the ashes and he could barely remember his own name.
He had been drawn to the image from the first time he had seen it; never had he realized until now, how the story of the phoenix paralleled his own life. Just a couple of weeks ago, he hadn’t existed and now he had risen from the dead to reclaim a life that he knew nothing about.
A reluctant smile escaped from his lips as Abby gently squeezed his arm. “Are you sure ready for this?” she asked again.
Tony grinned, realizing that for the first time in a long time, he felt in control of his life. It was a feeling that he could get use to if he could ever figure out who the hell he was. He looked at Abby and then at Leo, his smile now reaching his eyes. “I was born ready.”
Chapter End Notes:
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