"Tony!" Abby said, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "I can't believe you're back in the hospital!"
Tony turned his head and looked at her with a weak smile. "There's a cute nurse I wanted to see again," he said, winking at her as she giggled in response. He was lying flat on his back, having just had his spinal tap, during which Gibbs had called Abby-only Abby, to Tony's delight, even though Gibbs said he would call McGee and Ziva after lunch - and Abby, Gibbs, and Ducky were sitting in his room, keeping him company while he waited for the doctors to come talk to him.
Last time, he'd been exhausted and had fallen asleep shortly after his spinal tap, but this time, he felt quite awake, probably because of the caffeinated IV in his arm to help ward off headaches. He wasn't sure how effective it was, though, because he could feel one building behind his eyes.
"How are you feeling?" Ducky asked, leaning forward in his chair.
Tony looked at him, not surprised that even on a Saturday without work, Ducky was wearing a button up shirt with a bowtie. "I'm okay," Tony said. He ignored Gibbs' snort from beside Ducky.
"Tony," Abby said, fingers fiddling with one of the hems on her short, multi-tiered black skirt, "it's okay if you're not okay. I mean, are you really okay? That's a lot of okays, but-"
"Abby," Tony said, interrupting her before she could really get going. "How many Caff-Pows did you have today?"
"Three," Abby said, "but don't change the subject!"
Tony smiled tiredly, trying to ignore his headache. He felt strange - his mind was tired, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep, but all of the caffeine in his system made his body feel oddly awake and jittery, and he felt like he was climbing out of his skin. "I feel caffeinated," he finally said, his fingers tapping idly against his sheets. "Maybe you should see if you can get one of these IVs set up at work, Boss," he added. "Don't they make 'em portable?"
Gibbs rolled his eyes and hid a grin - the thought had crossed his mind. But still, he couldn't help but think how good DiNozzo was at deflecting.
"Is it working?" Abby asked, crossing her fishnet-clad legs. "Do you have a headache?"
"Just a little one," Tony replied. "It's not that bad." His voice was softer than usual, though, and his brow was furrowed, and Gibbs frowned, recognizing the lie for what it was.
Before he could say anything, there was a knock on the doorframe, and Dr. Foss entered, clipboard in hand.
"He has a headache!" Abby blurted out before anyone could say anything. "Can't you give him something for it?"
"Abby, give the man a moment," Ducky chided, smiling apologetically at the doctor while a slight bit of amusement shone through Gibbs' concern.
Dr. Foss looked taken aback for a moment by Abby's outburst, but his professionalism kicked in and he headed towards Tony's bed, glancing at the monitors. "Tony, is that true?" he asked.
"Yeah," Tony said, "but it's not that bad," he added, trying not to wince at the lights above his bed. They didn't exactly help, after all.
"On a scale of one to ten," Dr. Foss said, "One being no pain and ten being excruciating pain, can you give me an estimate?"
Tony thought for a moment, closing his eyes and running a tired hand over his face. "I don't know," he finally said wearily. "Four?"
Abby gasped. "If Tony says four, it probably means eight!" she said in alarm.
"Abby," Gibbs said in warning, giving her a look even if she was right.
Dr. Foss spared an amused smile in Abby's direction. "We'll add some painkillers to your IV," he said.
"Oh God, no," Tony said. "I get really-"
"We'll start with a high-dose Tylenol," he said, "nothing too strong. It should take the edge off, and if it gets worse, we can move you to something stronger."
"Okay," Tony said, relaxing a bit into his bed. High-dose Tylenol he could take; pain medication that would leave him loopy and out of sorts was another story.
"I'll be right back," Dr. Foss said, "I'm just going to get one of the nurses to come bring that in, and then we'll talk about some of your test results." He absently patted Tony's arm on his way out, and Tony sighed when he was gone.
"You guys don't have to stay," he said, "it's probably gonna be boring.
"Don't be a dumbass, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly. "We're staying."
"As your physician," Ducky said reasonably, "it would only make sense for me to stay."
"And you'll tell me everything anyway, right? So I'll save everyone the effort of repeating it," she said brightly. "And you can't get rid of Gibbs," she added, "so we'll just all stay."
Tony closed his eyes again to block out the light above him. "Can we get rid of that light?" he complained, resigned to the fact that they were staying. He felt edgy and nervous, and while it did bring a certain amount of comfort to know that they would all be there to hear the news, it also made the whole situation much more real, and it meant that they would see his reaction to whatever the hell the doctor said this was, and he would have to own up to it, and he couldn't lie-
"Hey, DiNozzo, take a breath," Gibbs said, leaning forward and laying a rough hand over Tony's forearm.
With a start, Tony realized he'd been holding his breath, so he let it out and ran a hand over his face, leaving it there longer than necessary. He felt like he was in a nightmare, and the excess energy of the caffeine was not helping at all.
Dr. Foss and a nurse came in a moment later, and Tony took the hand off of his face. The light was still on, and it really didn't help his headache, but the nurse attached the bag of Tylenol to his IV, so he knew he would get some relief soon. He pushed his bed up just a little - not too far, because the closer to sitting he got the worse his head felt - but just enough that he could comfortably see the doctor, who nodded at the nurse as she left and pulled up a chair.
"You're all staying?" he asked, glancing at Tony's visitors, who all nodded, except Gibbs, who just sort of glared.
"Well, Tony," Dr. Foss began, "I wish we didn't have to see each other again so soon under such bad circumstances."
"Yeah," Tony said, "me too."
"Wanna cut to the chase?" Gibbs said, his own anxiety for the situation making him unable to keep himself from interrupting.
"Jethro!" Ducky admonished. "Honestly!"
Dr. Foss smiled. He'd met this group before, after all, and was not entirely surprised by their strong personalities.
"It's all right," Dr. Foss said, "I understand that you're all anxious to know what's going on. I must admit, Tony, your case is a curious one."
This isn't what I want to hear, Tony thought, and it must've shown on his face, because Dr. Foss opened his chart and began to look serious.
"We still have a few more tests to run on your spinal fluid that take a little longer to finish," he said, "but we've already done a few tests, and have a strong idea. Like most diagnoses, there is always a chance of error, but like I said, we're quite confident in your diagnosis. Your brain MRI came back normal, but just like last time, your spinal cord MRI showed areas of extensive inflammation," he said.
He paused for a moment, glancing at his papers again. No one said anything, and Tony focused on Gibbs' hand, resting heavily on his arm.
"Tony, I'll be honest with you. Myelitis - inflammation of the spinal cord - is never a good sign. The tests that we have run on your spinal fluid so far are again showing elevated white blood cells, and we're currently running tests to detect certain autoantibodies to help contribute to our diagnosis," he said.
"But you do have a diagnosis?" Tony asked, afraid to hear his response.
"We are quite certain," he said. "At first, we thought this was MS. The symptoms you're presenting are very similar, and like we said last time you were here, it was a possibility. However, since the MRI of your brain came back normal again, and this second attack of symptoms came on so quickly, we're even more confident that it's not MS than we were last time, especially since your spinal cord's inflammation is still quite different than that of an MS patient."
"So what is it?" Gibbs interrupted. Abby sat with her hands twisted in her skirt, worrying her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes wide. Ducky, who was watching the doctor with rapt attention, had a hand resting on Abby's arm in support, while Gibbs kept his hand on Tony's forearm, the concern on his face evident.
Tony could feel his headache easing just a tiny bit from the Tylenol in his IV, but he still felt tension all throughout his body, and Gibbs' hand was the only thing keeping him from panicking. This was it. He was about to find out what the hell was wrong with him, and what was going to happen to him. The whole morning had been one of those surreal experience where time seemed to stop, and where a few minutes felt like a few hours and a few hours felt like a few days, and now lying in his bed waiting for the doctor to tell him what was wrong with him-this was like eternity, only eternity in purgatory, wondering and waiting and-
"Devic's Disease," the doctor finally said, interrupting Tony's brain's frantic ruminations. "It's a genetic disease-you didn't catch it from someone because it's not contagious. It's hereditary, often found in families with MS."
Tony's brow furrowed and he frowned. "Devic's Disease?" he said. "I've never heard of that."
"I believe I've read about it," Ducky said, "but I can't seem to recall the details."
Tony felt like this was all strangely anticlimactic; he'd been waiting on edge for a long time, wondering what the hell was wrong with him-and now, he had a name for it, but he still had no idea what the hell was wrong with him. Gibbs' hand tightened marginally on his arm, and Abby was still sitting exactly the same way she had been before, watching the doctor with too-wide eyes, her hands twisted into her skirt.
"Devic's is very similar to MS," Dr. Foss said, "only much rarer. Its main criteria are optic neuritis, which you displayed last time you were here, and myelitis, which you have displayed both times. However, with your added loss of sensation and muscle weakness, this further supports the criteria for Devic's. Like I mentioned before, the lack of abnormality in your brain MRI, and the pattern of your spinal inflammation rules out MS, but is a benchmark for Devic's disease.
"But Tony," he continued, "this disease is manageable with a strong regimen of steroids and other drugs."
Tony's head was spinning. Manageable? What did that even mean?
"The acute attacks you've been experiencing can be managed with stronger medication. There's no telling exactly how much damage each attack will do, but you're very lucky. This disease is not a death sentence," he said.
"What do you mean, 'how much damage?'" Ducky asked.
"Each time Tony has an attack," Dr. Foss explained, "there is the chance that his functions will not return to 100% of where they were before. For example-his eyesight is 20/20 now, as opposed to 20/10. That doesn't seem like a big difference now, but if he gets another optic nerve flare-up, it could go down to 20/30, and then 20/40-but that is something that would happen long-term, and these flare-ups will be manageable now that we know what we're looking for."
"But I'm a field agent," Tony said, and his voice was quiet and desperate. He wanted to crack a joke, to laugh it off and come up with some stupid flippant remark, but this was serious. He knew that Gibbs said he was on his team no matter what, but had he really planned on this?
"I'm not sure how much field work you'll be able to do," Dr. Foss said regretfully, his eyes full of sympathy. "It's not completely ruled out, but we'll have to see how your leg responds to treatment this time, and see how your body responds to the treatments you'll be doing at home."
Tony bit his lip, emotions surging within him. He was dreaming, he was dreaming, he was dreaming, he was dreaming-
"Hey," Gibbs said, fingers tightening on Tony's arm, causing Tony to look over at him with wide eyes. "I told you you're on my team no matter what. You're a damn good investigator, DiNozzo, whether you're in the field or out of it."
Tony looked away before his eyes could give away any of the tumultuous emotions storming inside of him. He swallowed thickly, and closed his eyes. He couldn't quite grasp this one yet.
"But you can cure it, right?" Abby said, finally speaking. Her voice was higher than usual, and there was something more than her usual frenetic energy bubbling beneath the surface.
"Another thing that Devic's Disease has in common with MS is that it's not curable," Dr. Foss said. "Instead, it's manageable. We'll have Tony set up on a strong regimen of medicine, and he'll know exactly where to come if he has another acute attack like the ones he's been experiencing lately. Also, just because these attacks came so frequently this time doesn't mean they'll be that way in the future." He turned his attention to Tony, whose expression was closed off and unreadable.
"Tony," he said, "you could wake up tomorrow and your vision could be gone, or your vision could be fine for another year before you have an attack. The same goes for the loss of sensation in your leg. We've started your steroids again, and we'll adjust the medications you're taking at home."
Tony nodded, not really taking in anything the doctor was saying, but knowing he should give some sort of response.
Suddenly Gibbs jerked in his seat, and the sound of his phone ringing filled the room. "Jesus," he muttered, pulling his phone out and running a hand over his face in stress. "Dispatch," he explained, standing up and moving to the doorway of the room before tersely answering his phone.
Tony swallowed, feeling a cold settle over him as Gibbs' hand left him. He didn't think he could handle this-he didn't know how to handle this. The plague was one thing - it was live or die, make it or don't make it, and only a few short hours to figure it out. This was open-ended and totally out of his league and could last the rest of his life. While he was appreciative that he would have a "rest of his life," he couldn't help but feel terrified at the same time-was he going to be blind? Or be without the use of a leg? And yet, at the same time, he felt strangely detached, like this was happening to someone else and he was merely watching, or like someone was going to come in and yell "APRIL FOOL'S!"
But he knew that wasn't going to happen, and he felt himself relax when Gibbs' hand was on his arm again. He looked over at Gibbs, surprised to find hesitation there.
Oh, right, Tony thought. Dispatch. My phone's off; they had to call Gibbs. "Did you get a case, Boss?" Tony asked through the fog that had taken up residence in his brain.
Gibbs looked at him searchingly, and Tony was dismayed to see that the man looked torn. "Yeah," Gibbs said. "Yeah, we did. Miller and Pelham are dead, from the Wooster case; LEOs found their bodies with a petty officer. Name's familiar. Might've been in Wooster's squad."
Tony's brows shot up; he knew something was way too simple about that case. "You better go find the bastard who did it, then," he said, hoping his voice remained steady. "Looks like Barrett wasn't alone."
Gibbs held his gaze for a long time, and Tony did his best not to fidget, but instead, to be a strong Senior Field-well, Senior Agent. He could use some time by himself to wrap his head around this anyway, or at the very least, get some stronger painkillers (without anyone around to witness his drug-induced loopiness) and go to sleep.
Finally, Gibbs nodded, but he leaned down close to Tony's face. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, eyes only inches from Tony's. Tony nodded, startled by the sudden closeness, and he closed his eyes and let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when Gibbs reached out and ran his fingers through the short but soft hair near Tony's forehead, brushing it away gently. Tony kept his eyes closed for a moment, relishing the comfort.
When he opened them again, hoping he wasn't giving away too many emotions, Gibbs gave him a nod and stood up, and Tony was left reeling, wondering if that strange moment of closeness really happened, but before he could make anything of it, Abby was holding him in a tight hug, and then Ducky was patting his arm.
"I'm sorry, Tony," Abby said, "I wish we could stay. I can't believe we have to find this out and leave-Gibbs, can't I stay for a while longer? You won't have evidence right away, anyway."
"We need you at NCIS, Abs," Gibbs said wearily. "LEOs already started processing the scene." His tone clearly said he wished that things were different, but they all had jobs to do.
"Tony, we'll come see you as soon as we can," Abby said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"Hey," Tony said, "don't you dare mess up this case because you're worried about me."
"Tony!" Abby said. "We're professionals!"
"As soon as the autopsies are done, I'll return," Ducky said, before Abby could continue. "But with three bodies, I'm not sure how soon that will be," he added. "This really is poor timing, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Gibbs said. "No use talking about it. Sooner we get out of here, sooner we come back," he added, his eyes still taking in Tony's form carefully.
"DiNozzo, you need anything, you call, you got that?" Gibbs said, leaning down just enough to clasp Tony's shoulder.
Tony did his best to dredge up a smile, and he nodded. "Yeah," he said, "Got it, Boss. Go find the bad guys."
Gibbs gave Tony's shoulder one final squeeze, and after a few more parting words from Ducky and Abby, the three made their way out of the room. With a sigh, Tony turned his attention back to Dr. Foss, who was sitting silently and glancing through his clipboard, most likely to give the group time to talk.
"So, Doc, you think my leg will get better?" Tony asked, doing his best to not sound as miserable and alone as he felt.
Dr. Foss looked up and gave Tony an encouraging smile. "We'll do our best to ensure that it does," he said, and he sounded completely confident, which helped Tony's state of mind, even if he knew logically that doctors were coached to speak that way. "And," he added, "I think that you have a very strong network of friends to rely on, and that always helps."
Tony nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"Is your headache any better?" Dr. Foss asked, noting the lines of tension around Tony's eyes.
"No, not really," Tony said, unable to lie through his emotional upheaval. He felt about ten seconds away from losing it, and he just wanted this to be over.
Dr. Foss stood. "I'll have the nurse come give you something stronger," he said. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
"No, that's okay," Tony said quietly. "Thanks."
"Tony, if you have any questions, or need me for anything, just page the nurses and they'll come get me. I'll be in to check on you periodically, anyway, but if you need me in the interim-"
"I will," Tony interrupted. "Thanks."
Dr. Foss gave him an assessing look-over, and nodded. "Rest up," he said as he made his way out of the room.
Tony sighed when he was gone and closed his eyes as he eased his bed back down into a completely flat position. Nothing left to do but lie still and wait for the medicine that would make his brain stop spinning in circles and his head stop pounding.
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