The fact that Jethro Gibbs was waiting for a detailed report regarding Tony’s health did not seem to bother the ME as he continued his thorough examination of the injured man sitting on his table. Ducky had ceased being intimidated by the team leader’s presence years ago and he had yet to let Jethro’s impatience influence the meticulous pride he took in his job. Ducky was attempting to ignore his old friend as the former Marine wore a path around the examining table clearly causing Tony unnecessary stress.
“Jethro, isn’t there something that you could be doing?” Ducky asked.
“I’m doing it,” Gibbs replied, his steely gaze daring the ME to challenge his authority.
The physician was not bothered by Gibbs’ infamous glare. “What you are doing is agitating my patient, not to mention getting on my nerves. Now, go find something else to do and I will let you know when I’m done examining Anthony.”
The team leader’s gaze shifted between the ME and his patient. “I’ll be back in ten minutes,” he vowed.
“I’m sure you will,” the ME muttered under his breath.
As Gibbs left autopsy, Ducky continued to probe the bruises on Tony’s face, a bit of pride swelling inside of him as he recognized the fact that he had won that particular battle of wills with the team leader. It was only a few seconds before the elevator doors were closing and Tony started to visibly relax.
“Thank you,” Tony sighed.
The ME smiled at the injured man. “You’re welcome. I think that sometimes Jethro doesn’t realize how formidable and imposing he can be, especially if he’s worried.”
“You think he’s worried about me?”
“I know he is, my boy.”
“He probably thinks I’m going to take off again,” Tony mused. “I can’t blame him for being suspicious; that wasn’t one of the brightest things I’ve ever done. I’m not sure I understand why he seems so vested in me; I’m starting to get the feeling that I’m nothing but a huge screw up.”
“Why would you say that, Anthony?” the physician inquired. Ducky and Tony had always had a special relationship; each always having the time to listen to the other. He hoped that somehow that special part of their friendship had survived the torment that Tony had endured the past year.
He didn’t miss that fact that Tony suddenly seemed fascinated by the sheet that was covering him; it was evident that despite his faulty memory, the former agent still had difficulty accepting a listening ear or a kind gesture, always thinking that he wasn’t worth the effort. Ducky repeated his question, hoping that he could encourage Tony to open up to him. “Tony? Why do you feel that way?”
Tony raked his hand through his hair as he blew out a pent up breath. “It’s probably nothing but when I was at the bar, I kept hearing this voice inside my head,” DiNozzo began to explain. “It kept telling me that I was going to end up in the gutter. I don’t think it was Gibbs’ voice, but I feel like it belonged to someone I know or used to know.”
Ducky placed his stethoscope on the table beside the former agent. The ME vividly remembered the conversation between the two of them after the young agent had managed to save Sergeant Atlas from the sewers several years ago. Gibbs had sent DiNozzo to him to make sure that he was all right; it had become a ritual ever since DiNozzo began working for NCIS that whenever Tony was injured or sick that he would make a voluntary trip to autopsy and permit him to examine him. For some unknown reason, Tony DiNozzo avoided hospitals and doctor’s offices at all cost and Ducky had stepped in to fill the role of personal physician.
***flashback***’
The ME couldn’t help but notice how withdrawn and contemplative that Tony had become ever since his arrival in autopsy. The young man had been through quite an ordeal but had managed to save Sergeant Atlas and return to their fold with but a few scrapes and bruises; of course, Ducky was also aware that Tony was more than likely sporting a splitting headache as a result of the cocktail that he had been given to render him unconscious.
However, it wasn’t his injuries that seemed to be plaguing Tony; something was definitely weighing heavily on the agent’s mind. Ducky had just finished regaling him with another story of days gone by as he finished attending a nasty scrape on Anthony’s back; it was obvious by the blank stare and the sheer exhaustion that seemed to seep into his very being that Tony had not been listening with his usual fervor.
“Is there something wrong, Anthony?” Ducky wondered. “I mean anything other than the obvious.”
Tony shook his head. “Not really. Just kind of sore, but I’ve lived through worse.”
“Well then,” the ME sighed. “I can only assume that whatever is bothering you is something of a personal nature.”
Ducky’s assumption was met with silence. Tony was almost as closed mouth as Gibbs when it came to exploring his emotions.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered. Tony had listened to him so many times when others simply turned a deaf ear that the ME was glad to have the opportunity to reciprocate.
“I’m fine, Ducky. I guess the day’s just catching up with me; a good night’s sleep and I’ll be good as new.”
“I’m sure you will but in the meantime, why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”
“My head’s a scary place; if you don’t believe me, you should ask my childhood shrink.”
“Your childhood shrink?”
Tony tiredly grinned. “Didn’t everyone have a childhood shrink?”
Ducky had a feeling that Tony wasn’t joking about seeing a psychiatrist as a child; what little he knew about DiNozzo’s childhood prompted him to believe that Tony’s father had wanted to blame his ineffectiveness as a parent on his son, causing issues to arise that the young boy had no idea how to handle.
Tony tended to hide behind the face of a clown and few people ever got to see the real Anthony DiNozzo; it was a defense mechanism that the agent used in order to keep people at arm’s length. Very few people ever got a glimpse of Tony’s true personality and the ME counted himself fortunate to be one of those few. Ever since they had first met in Baltimore, the two men had shared a special friendship reminiscent of an eccentric old uncle and a favorite nephew; he was honored to consider Tony as part of his family.
“When I was down in the sewer with Atlas, I was…afraid,” Tony finally admitted. “I tried not to let Atlas know that I was scared, but I’m not sure that I was all that convincing.”
“I think that given your situation at the time, you had every right to be scared. You had a murderer after you and…’
“I wasn’t scared that we were going to die,” Tony insisted. “I was afraid that my father would be right.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
His gaze never left Tony’s face as the exhausted agent struggled with the demons of his past. Ducky waited patiently for DiNozzo to continue; he would not push the young agent because that would only result in Tony shutting down.
“I had just decided that I wanted to do something else with my life rather than go into the family business,” Tony recalled. “To say that my dad wasn’t happy with me is an understatement; right before I left for college, he told me, ‘Junior, one day you’re going to end up in the gutter’. I just kept hearing those words over and over in my mind and I guess for a few minutes, I actually thought that his prediction was going to come true.”
Ducky gently squeezed his shoulder. “Anthony, my boy, you must know that your father was wrong. Does he have any idea of all the things you’ve accomplished in your career? You’re a brilliant agent; your instincts rival Gibbs and if it hadn’t been for you, Sergeant Atlas would be dead. Don’t ever doubt yourself, Tony; you’re a good man.”
“Sometimes I wonder. There are probably a lot of people who’d disagree with you.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Anthony, if your father could see you know, I believe that he would have to eat those words.”
He wasn’t surprised when Tony laughed. “You don’t know my dad. I’ll never be able to rise up to his standards and for the most part, I’ve accepted it; but every once in a while, I guess I just get these doubts and then I start over analyzing the past and…” The agent shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I’m sorry. I tend to ramble on when I’m tired; maybe I should just go home and get some rest.”
“I won’t argue with you that you need to rest but don’t you dare apologize for your feelings; you’re entitled to them.”
Tony grew quiet. Ducky had to admit that a subdued DiNozzo caused him great concern. Tony’s vibrant character was a constant and the ME hated to see that personality quenched by a memory of the past.
“Don’t bury your feelings, Tony. They are a part of you and you must accept them; after all, our emotions are what make us human.”
“I guess,” Tony tiredly conceded. “Like I said, I’m just tired. Anyway, I’d appreciate it if we kept this conversation just between us.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “Just know that I’m here for you any time you need to talk.”
“Thanks Ducky.”
Ducky patted the younger man’s knee. “You’re welcome,” he assured Tony. “Now, let’s finish getting you checked out so you can go home.”
The ME continued to work, purposefully prattling on about any random subject that he thought would distract Tony from the thoughts of his past. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Tony’s father was clearly a fool to deny the love and affection of his son. Maybe one day, the elder DiNozzo would see the error of his ways, but until then, Ducky would make sure that Tony never doubted his place in his life or on the team
***end flashback***
“You all right, Doc?”
The sound of Tony’s voice interrupted his private musings. “I’m sorry, Anthony; I didn’t mean to let my thoughts wander; I was just…remembering.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Tony sympathized. “I’ve got so much in my mind that I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. It’s just like I was saying earlier like when I was telling about that voice in my head, it seemed to so real but how can I be sure? Did that voice belong to someone from my time on the streets or was it someone from Tony DiNozzo’s past? I have these memories inside my head but I don’t know who they belong to.”
“It’s going to take time, Anthony.”
He could sense Tony’s frustration as the former agent clenched his fist, anger evident in the fine lines of fatigue around his eyes. “I wish everybody would quit saying that! How much more frickin’ time can it take? Why can’t I just remember so everything can get back to normal? It’s what Gibbs wants, it’s what you want, it’s what Abby wants…”
“Is it what you want?” Ducky challenged. “Normality is all about perception, Tony. I know you’re impatient and you have every right to be but…”
“Impatient? I don’t think impatient begins to cover what I’m feeling. I just want to understand what’s going on in my head. Is that too much to ask?”
“No, it’s not. Not at all.” Ducky knew that Gibbs would not be happy about his next suggestion, especially given his earlier reaction to the idea, but fortunately the former Marine was not around at the moment. Tony was hurting and the ME would do anything within his power to help alleviate the younger man’s pain. “Anthony, have you considered hypnosis?”
Tony shook his head. “My head’s a scary place…” DiNozzo stopped abruptly, his expression one of confusion and uncertainty; he began to look around autopsy as if he were seeing it for the first time. “I’ve said those exact words to you before. Haven’t I? I’ve spent a lot of time in this room before and not just when I was drunk.”
Ducky wasn’t sure how much he should reveal to Tony, but there was something urging him to try and find out exactly what memories were beckoning to the desperate man. “You’ve been here many times and not just as a patient. You were down here quite often whenever you were working a case or sometimes you would just come to chat. Every Monday morning you would come down and ask…”
“About your mother,” Tony finished. “Your mom thinks I’m a gigolo.”
The ME couldn’t help but smile at Tony’s recollection. “She also thinks you’re an Italian furniture mover and every time you come over, you end up rearranging the living room.”
“I come over to your house?”
“Yes, you come every Saturday you’re not working and play bridge with mother and her friends,” he explained. “She has asked about you every week that you were missing; she really misses you.”
Tony cradled his head in his hands. “I’m tired, Ducky. I’m so tired.”
“I know you are. What you need is rest; maybe we can talk some more later.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’ll find you some scrubs to put on before Jethro returns.”
“I appreciate it; actually I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Although I can’t remember it all, I know that you’re a friend.”
“And you’re my friend.”
The elevator doors opened and Ducky glanced at his watch. “You’re twenty seconds early, Jethro.”
“Better than twenty seconds late,” Gibbs retorted. “You done?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Other than some significant bruising, especially along his rib cage and groin, with a little ice and a lot of rest, he should be up and around in a couple of days. I have a prescription for a mild pain killer but I would prefer that if he can tolerate it, that he takes an over the counter pain reliever such as ibuprofen. Rest will be the most important factor for a speedy recovery, so make sure he gets lots of it,” Ducky instructed.
“Don’t worry, Duck; I’ll take care of him,” the team leader promised.
“I know you will, Jethro. Now, let’s give Anthony a little privacy while he changes,” the ME suggested, subtly motioning for Gibbs to join him at his desk so they could talk out of earshot of Tony.
“What’s up?” Gibbs wanted to know.
“He’s remembering more and more; I think Tony is close to a major breakthrough. I mentioned the possibility of hypnosis and he was still hesitant, I think that maybe if you approach him with it, that he’ll listen. It really could make a difference in his recovery,” Ducky pointed out.
Gibbs shook his head. “I’m not going to force it on him.”
“Just let him know that it’s an option; I think if he believed that you thought it was a good idea, he would be more receptive.”
“I’m not convinced it is a good idea.”
“But you’re not completely opposed to it,” the ME stated.
“No, I’m just not sold on the whole idea, but if Tony wants to try it; I’ll support him,” Gibbs stated.
“Hey Ducky!”
The ME peeked around the corner to see Tony slowly making his way towards them. He had managed to pull on his scrubs but his feet were still bare. DiNozzo was moving painfully slow but that was to be expected, especially with the assorted bruises he was sporting. “Is something wrong, Anthony?”
“What is today?”
“It’s Wednesday,” Ducky replied.
“Can you teach me to play bridge before Saturday?”
“You picked it up so easily the first time; I don’t see why you wouldn’t the second time around.”
“Good. Tell your mom that I’ll be there Saturday.”
Ducky patted Tony on the back. “I’ll be sure to let her know. Now, you let Jethro help you with your shoes and then he can take you back to his house so you can get some rest. I’ll stop by in the morning,” the physician promised.
Tony nodded his thanks as Gibbs took him by the arm and led him back over to the table. After he helped Tony sit down, he knelt down and slipped Tony’s shoes on his feet. Ducky watched the two men as they made their way across the room towards the elevator; he hoped that along with the other memories that seemed to be resurfacing that among them would be the father and son bond that DiNozzo and Gibbs used to share.
Jethro had never believed that Tony was dead; he had kept his hope alive despite opposition from the Director and at times, his own team. Over the years, DiNozzo had become like a son to Jethro and the team leader couldn’t face losing another family member. When Gibbs had discovered that Tony was alive, a determination burned in his old friend to get his son back and he would face the devil himself to do so.
Ducky glanced at his watch once again; although he had been more than willing to treat Anthony’s injuries, it was past time to go home. He quickly cleaned up the area and then promptly gathered his things. As he cut off the lights, Ducky thought about the great pleasure that he was going to have as he informed his mother that her Italian furniture mover and favorite bridge partner would be coming over Saturday.
My chapter was getting so long, I had to divide it. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to wrap it up in the rest of the next chapter, so you may get one more after that. Anyway, I’m going to finish this one before I update the others, so thank you in advance for your patience. With any luck, you should have the next chapter before the weekend.
I’m so encouraged by everyone who has responded with their choice of which story I should start after Bad Moon, but there’s still time to vote in case you haven’t. I love hearing your thoughts and opinions…they really motivate me! Just in case you’ve forgotten, here are the ideas…1) A Baltimore Story; 2) An AU that takes place after Frame Up; and 3) Franks gets Tony in trouble.
I do intend to eventually start all of these, but I want my readers to voice their opinion on which one they’d like to see first! Again, thank you all for your continued support…you guys are amazing. I’m off to finish the next chapter!
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.