"So when are you moving back to your apartment?"
Tony paused, fork hovering in midair over his favorite chicken marsala in the metro DC area, and he blinked down at his food in surprise before quickly resuming his movements, looking up at McGee with a grin.
"I don't know," Tony said with a shrug. "Gibbs has good bourbon."
Ziva wrinkled her nose. "Tony, you do not even like bourbon."
Tony grinned and shrugged again, distracted momentarily by a young girl spilling her soda all over her family's table across the restaurant as a cacophony of voices, young and old, drifted over his ears. It was busy and noisy, but it was peak lunch hour on a Friday, and Tony, Ziva, McGee, and Abby were capitalizing on their lack of a case by going out to lunch while Gibbs was on a call in MTAC.
"Gibbs has good bourbon," Tony said after a moment. "He only gets the good stuff."
"It's true," Abby said sagely from beside Tony. "I used to think I didn't like bourbon, either."
"What's it like living with him?" McGee asked. "What does he do all day?"
Tony grinned as he tried to think of an appropriate response because he was pretty sure McGee didn't really want to know the answer to that question. "He spends a lot of time in the basement," Tony said, and it was true. Gibbs often spent hours and hours down there while Tony watched movies, occasionally surfacing for some coffee or a few kisses or a flimsy reason to check on Tony when he was feeling particularly worried. "Boats don't build themselves," Tony added with a smile, taking a large bite of his chicken.
"Do you two eat meals together?" Ziva asked curiously.
"Well, yeah," Tony said around a mouthful of food. "I mean, it would be stupid not to." He paused for a moment, eyeing the three of them, noticing the way they were looking at him like they wanted to tear into him, and grinned. "How long have you guys been waiting to ask me about this?"
"Too long!" Abby said, clapping her hands in front of her and grinning. "Oh my God, Tony, we've been trying to get you alone but Gibbs is always with you, and if he's not, we're too busy to ask, and-"
"Sometimes we are afraid he will kill you during the night," Ziva interrupted. Tony thought she looked surprisingly serious, and he laughed, setting his fork down for a moment to cover his face.
"No," Tony managed, "he hasn't killed me yet."
"Does he cook for you?" Abby asked, leaning her head on her hand and watching him in favor of eating her lunch.
"When we're home, yeah," Tony said, "but sometimes I cook, too. It depends. I fall asleep a lot, so sometimes he starts cooking while I'm sleeping and I can't help." He paused, thinking of the ruined chicken parmesan he'd tried to make for Gibbs the weekend before. "Maybe he does that on purpose," he added with a grimace.
He shifted in his chair; his back was killing him, and the stiff restaurant chairs were not exactly supportive. He absently realized how strange it was to be discussing life at home with Gibbs with his team, and wondered what they would think if they knew the full story.
"So how much longer are you going to stay with him?" Abby asked. "I mean, it's been about a month, right?"
Tony paused thoughtfully, twisting his torso a bit to try to pop some kinks out of his spine. His lease was up in only three weeks. His landlord had called him about setting up an appointment to sign the paperwork for another year, but he had yet to bring it up to Gibbs. He didn't want to move out of Gibbs' house, and he wasn't sure Gibbs would want him to, either, but, unsurprisingly, Gibbs never really brought it up either way.
"I don't know," Tony finally said. "My apartment's a walk-up and my lease is up soon," he added, glancing at his cane out of the corner of his eye. He was becoming more and more reliant on it, which scared him, and he'd caught Gibbs doing a Google search for balancing guide dogs a few days ago, which scared him even more (even if it was his personal opinion that Gibbs was definitely the biggest idiot he'd ever met if he thought Tony would ever get one of them).
"Have you begun searching the classified files yet?" Ziva asked.
Tony looked at her in confusion for a moment, and then shook his head as he realized what she meant. "Classified ads, Ziva. Very different."
Ziva spared him an annoyed glance and McGee looked amused beside her, if the barely concealed grin was anything to go by. "It is no matter," she said archly. "Have you?"
Tony frowned. "No," he said, wondering if he should've been doing that all along - was Gibbs expecting him to move out soon? Even though it had been about a month since his diagnosis, Tony didn't feel like he'd gained any footing. He'd resigned himself to using his cane, but he still felt unbalanced, both emotionally and physically, and unsure of what was happening to his life. While Gibbs had gotten much better at handling Tony's modified duties at work, Tony himself hated it more and more everyday, and there were times when after a long day, Tony needed Gibbs' help just to get into bed. Granted, if he were living on his own, he'd probably find a way, but Gibbs made things so much easier.
And on top of that, Tony still couldn't drive, which was probably for the best because his balance was often the first thing to go when he felt tired or weak or was just having a bad day, and his eyesight had left things fuzzy for him quite a few times over the past month. He hadn't had another acute episode like the first one he'd had, but there had been times when it was bad enough that he needed to ask McGee to show him how to make all of the fonts on his computer bigger so he didn't have to squint.
He'd easily fallen back into the usual workplace banter, and the usual investigating and following leads (from his desk), but all of the uncertainties were hitting him in a big way. He didn't like to show it, although he was sure Gibbs had an idea. Every day he felt like he was watching someone else walk around with a cane and sleep through their lunch break and pop ibuprofen and steroids like candy.
"Maybe you can stay with Gibbs a little longer," Abby said, bringing Tony's thoughts back to the present.
"Maybe," Tony said doubtfully. "But we're both grown men; we're not looking for roommates. And if I stay too much longer he really might kill me."
He knew the words he was saying were expected of him in the situation and not entirely truthful, but he couldn't help but wonder exactly what Gibbs' thoughts on the issue were. He rubbed a hand over his forehead, knowing he needed to talk to Gibbs about this.
Yes, he and Gibbs had admitted they were committed to each other, but that didn't mean they had to live together - and if Tony didn't renew his lease, that pulled his back-up plan right out from underneath his feet.
"What is he like in the morning without coffee?" Ziva asked.
Tony paused for a moment, trying to pull his thoughts out of the worrying direction they were trying to take. "He always gets up before me," he said with a shrug. He left out the part about Gibbs waking him up on weekends with hot kisses and roaming hands, and thought instead of hurried work mornings where they didn't really see each other until the breakfast table because Tony was usually half-asleep when Gibbs slid out from next to him and left him clutching a pillow in his place.
"So you're paying, then, Probie?" Tony asked with a grin after McGee requested the check from the waitress as Abby ate fast to catch up for time wasted while she chose to talk to Tony rather than eat.
McGee gave Tony an annoyed look as the waitress took everyone's plate away except for Abby's. "I don't think so," McGee said. "Doesn't whoever finishes last have to pay?"
"McGee!" Abby exclaimed, swallowing hastily and looking up in outrage. "You never make a woman pay for your lunch!"
"I believe you are making that up," Ziva commented, looking at McGee with narrowed eyes. "And I agree with Abby. For that, maybe you should pay for lunch."
Tony took pity on McGee and pulled his wallet out of his pants, tossing a twenty-dollar bill at him. "Here," he said. "Now you're making the cripple pay." He softened his words with a wink and a charming grin. "You just can't win, Probie."
Abby smacked him on the arm, which he expected. "You're not a cripple," she said, annoyed.
"I know," Tony said. "But doesn't it make McGee look like more of a jerk?"
"It makes you look like a jerk," Abby said. Tony rolled his eyes and watched as McGee pocketed his twenty and put his card with the check, handing it off to the waitress as she passed by.
"Thank you, McGee," Ziva said, giving him a warm smile. "That was very kind of you."
"You're welcome," he said, just barely keeping the scowl off his face. Tony grinned, even as he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the stiffness out of them. He had a headache, which he was sort of used to as he seemed to have one more often than not, but his back was also beginning to ache, and he sighed, wondering if he should have turned down the lunch invitation in favor of a snack and a nap on Abby's couch.
The waitress came back quickly with McGee's card, and he stuck it back in his wallet and signed the receipt for her before standing up. Tony took a deep breath and pushed his chair out, bracing himself on both his cane and the table before standing up. To his embarrassment, he got up only a few inches before falling back to his chair, and he sighed and tried again, relieved when he made it all the way up. His legs felt particularly rubbery and weak, and he tried to pretend that Ziva was just being playful when she looped her arm through his and held on tight as they walked.
The little girl across the restaurant who spilled her soda earlier was watching him curiously, eyes wide and a thoughtful frown on her face as he slowly made his way out, and Tony felt his shoulders stiffen in frustration when her mother leaned down to scold her, probably telling her not to stare.
He couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief once they were on the sidewalk and he no longer had to dodge waiters and endure the stares of the other customers. He paused, thinking of the two and a half blocks he was going to have to walk to get to their car.
"I will bring the car around," Ziva said, squeezing his arm and leading him towards the bench outside the restaurant. "Perhaps you should sit for a moment."
Normally Tony would protest even if he felt tired and knew he should sit, but he really didn't like the feeling in his legs, or the way his right leg was shaking, so he let Ziva help him over to the bench and he sat heavily, closing his eyes and kneading his hands into his right thigh, hoping to ease some of the tension beginning to build. Abby sat next to him and put an arm around his waist and McGee stood by awkwardly while Ziva headed towards the car.
"You gonna let her drive, Probie?" Tony managed to ask, trying for some semblance of normalcy even though he was beginning to feel a bit nervous about how uncomfortable his body felt.
"I don't think I want to fight her for it after eating all that," McGee said. Tony could tell from his tone of voice that he was worried, and just putting up with Tony's questioning for show.
"Tony, are you in pain?" Abby asked.
Tony turned and looked at her, giving her a tired smile. "No," he said. "It's nothing."
Abby frowned anxiously. "I'm not stupid," she said. "I know you're lying. You seemed okay when we were eating, but now you don't."
Tony rubbed a weary hand over his face, giving up on trying to massage the pain out of his thigh for the time being. "It's nothing," he said, "just drop it."
Abby kept frowning at him, and he sighed, looking away from her and instead focusing on a wad of dirty, dried up gum just a few inches from McGee's new Italian leather shoes.
"Don't step in that gum, Probie," Tony said, pointing at it but dropping his hand quickly when he noticed that his finger was shaking.
"Tony," McGee said, stepping closer to the bench and carefully avoiding the gum. "Should we call Gibbs?"
"Why would you call Gibbs?" Tony asked, frustration at his body's betrayal combined with steroids and anxiety making him snap. "What the hell is he gonna do, show up out of nowhere and wave a magic fucking wand and make my fucking back and my fucking head and my fucking-"
Tony stopped himself before he let too much slip and took a deep, shaky breath, closing his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose.
"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to-"
"It's okay," Abby said quietly, taking his hand and squeezing. "Here comes Ziva."
Tony looked up and saw the dark NCIS-issue sedan pulling up to the restaurant, squeezing into the no-parking area in front of the driveway that led to the loading area in back of the restaurant.
Tony took his hand back from Abby and steeled himself to stand again. It was only the thought of falling flat on the sidewalk that made him say, "McGee, give me a hand?"
"Of course," McGee said. "What-"
"Just pull me up by the arm," Tony said, "and make sure I don't fall."
"Okay," McGee said, and he put a steadying hand on Tony's back and wrapped the other around his arm. Tony pushed himself up but felt himself lose strength as soon as his body left the bench, and McGee held onto him tightly and got him upright.
"Okay?" McGee asked once he was standing.
"Just," Tony said, breathing hard. "Give me a minute."
McGee and Abby exchanged a worried glance, and Tony held on tight to his cane as Ziva put the four-way flashers on and made her way over to them.
"Need a hand?" she asked, coming around to Tony's other side and giving Abby an apologetic look before squeezing between her and Tony and putting her arm around his waist.
If Tony weren't so concerned about staying upright while walking the short distance to the car, he would've been embarrassed. As it was, he clenched his jaw and did his best to step forward.
"Christ," he said, his right foot dragging a bit. His leg didn't quite want to cooperate, and it took him much longer than it should have to get to the car. Ziva and McGee helped him down into the passenger seat while Abby looked on nervously, and just before they closed the door, she leaned in and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"We'll call Gibbs now," she said, closing the door and quickly sliding into the backseat.
"Should you go to the doctor?" Ziva asked.
Tony closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest. "I don't know," he said quietly. He wanted Gibbs. He knew that he didn't have to see the doctor when his vision fluctuated unless the problem lasted longer than 24 hours, so he assumed that the protocol was the same for his leg functions. "I don't think so."
Tony heard Abby talking to Gibbs on the phone in the backseat, and he wearily took the phone from her when she leaned forward from behind him and held it out.
"Gibbs?" Tony asked, well aware that his voice was pinched and higher than usual.
"Tony, what's going on?" Gibbs asked. He sounded urgent, and Tony thought he should've paid more attention to what Abby said to make him so concerned.
"We're leaving lunch," Tony said, his voice still a little shaky. His breath hitched when his leg cramped, and then he let it out with a hiss.
"Tony?" Gibbs asked, sounding frantic.
"Just-just a cramp," Tony said.
"Like the spasm you had when you were in the hospital last time?"
"No," Tony managed, squeezing his eyes shut and grabbing onto his thigh. "Just a-a cramp."
"He's lying!" Abby shouted, loud enough for Gibbs to hear over the phone.
"I'm not lying," Tony said, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg. "It's a fucking bad cramp, but it's a cramp."
"Ziva driving?" Gibbs asked.
"Yeah," Tony said. "We haven't left yet."
"Tell her to go to our house," Gibbs said. Tony allowed the words "our house" to float over his mind for a moment before swallowing thickly and turning to Ziva.
"Go to Gibbs' house," Tony said, his voice weak.
Ziva nodded, giving him a concerned glance before pulling out of her makeshift parking spot.
"I'll meet you there," Gibbs said.
"You don't have to do that," Tony said. "Weren't you doing-doing something in MTAC?"
"Was doing something in MTAC," Gibbs said, his voice echoing strangely, and Tony knew he must've been running down the stairs through the cavernous acoustics of the stairwell.
"Don't fall down the stairs," Tony mumbled, kneading his thigh again with his free hand. "Then you-"
"I'm not gonna fall down the stairs, Tony," Gibbs interrupted. Tony heard a door slam, then another. "I'm in the parking garage now," he added. "Tell Ziva not to get into an accident with you in the car."
"Gibbs says not to get in an accident," Tony said to Ziva. She gave him an annoyed look but drove just a little bit more calmly, and Tony bit his lip against the residual pain and cramping in his leg.
"With you in the car," Gibbs growled. "Tell her that."
"What?" Tony said. "I'm not saying that!" He was surprised enough by Gibbs' vehemence to be distracted momentarily from the pain in his leg, and he wondered if that had been Gibbs' plan.
"Saying what?" Abby asked, but Tony ignored her.
"You having trouble walking, too?" Gibbs asked.
"Yeah," Tony said.
"A lot of trouble?" Gibbs prodded.
"Yeah," Tony said again, his voice a little choked.
"Okay," Gibbs said, and he sounded like he was trying to keep both of them calm, not just Tony. "When you get there, you go straight to the couch. Don't try to go up the stairs, you got that?"
"Got it," Tony said.
"Make them stay with you until I get there," Gibbs added.
"Okay," Tony said. "I will."
"And then I'll stay with you for the afternoon," he continued.
"Gibbs," Tony said, "You can't do that."
Tony heard McGee breathe in sharply; he probably thought Tony was about to get his ass kicked for being so candid with Gibbs.
"You trying to be the team leader, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said threateningly, just as Tony heard a car horn blare.
"Jesus Christ, Gibbs," Tony said, annoyed enough to be distracted from his pain. "Don't get in a car accident now, after you just made me tell Ziva not to."
"I won't get in a car accident," Gibbs said shortly. "And I'm taking the afternoon. Vance'll understand. If we catch a case, I'll go back in."
Tony sighed, closing his eyes. "Okay," he said, because even though he felt strangely guilty to be keeping Gibbs from work, he didn't really want to be alone when he wasn't sure he could stand. "I'm gonna go now, okay? So you don't die talking on your cell phone while you drive."
"You got a headache?" Gibbs asked, ignoring him.
"Yeah," Tony said.
"How's your vision?"
"Fine," Tony replied. "But seriously, you'll see me in like fifteen minutes, Boss, why don't you just ask me then?"
"Tony," Gibbs said, and his voice was so desperate and exasperated that Tony sighed again, his hand clenching on his thigh.
"It's my legs, mostly," Tony said honestly, figuring that he might as well tell him and get it over with. "My shoulders have been stiff all day. My back, too. My headache's not that bad, but I am really dizzy. It's mainly my right leg, but neither of them feels right. Okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Gibbs said. "Wait for me on the couch."
"I know," Tony said patiently, wondering why he felt like he was trying to make Gibbs feel better when he was the one with the leg that felt like it was in a vice.
"I'm gonna go now," Gibbs said.
"Okay," Tony replied, his heart beating faster as his leg twitched painfully under his hand. He bit his lip to avoid gasping.
"Make sure they help you into the house," Gibbs said.
"I know," Tony said shortly. He didn't mean to snap, but he felt awful, and Gibbs' nagging wasn't helping.
"Okay," Gibbs said. "I'll be there as soon as I can, Tony."
Tony's shoulders slumped, the earnest caring in Gibbs' voice cutting straight through his irritation. "Okay," he murmured. "See you soon."
He waited until he heard Gibbs hang up before flipping Abby's phone closed and holding it out behind him, and when she took it from him, he covered his face with his hand and closed his eyes, not really wanting to talk to his teammates because he knew that the conversation they'd just overheard (well, Tony's side of the conversation they overheard) was not the typical work conversation he'd have with Gibbs, and he really didn't feel like answering their questions.
"Is Gibbs on his way?" Abby asked.
"Yeah," Tony said from behind his hand.
"Are you doing okay?" she continued, reaching forward from behind him to squeeze his upper arm.
"Yeah," he said, even though he was pretty sure everyone knew he was lying.
"I think that was the longest conversation I've ever heard anyone have with Gibbs," McGee said, and Tony managed a half-hearted laugh that was more a grunt than anything else.
"What did he say?" Ziva asked.
"Nothing," Tony said, tugging on his hair to distract himself from the pain in his legs. It was like when he'd gone through growth spurts as a kid and woken up in the middle of the night, gasping his way through a Charlie horse. Sometimes, his calf would hurt for the entire day after one of those, and he had the same pinched feeling in his leg at that moment that he'd had as a child, only it went all the way up to his thigh rather than restricting itself to his calf, and every once in a while it would spike like his muscle was being twisted into knots. His left leg wasn't cramping, but it felt weak and achy, and he wanted Ziva to get to Gibbs' house already so he could make his way inside and collapse on the couch.
"We will be there in just a few minutes," Ziva said softly, taking in Tony's closed eyes and white knuckled grip on his thigh and the fingers clenched in his hair.
Tony couldn't bring himself to respond, and tried to focus on his breathing instead to distract himself. He opened his eyes only when he heard gravel under the tires, and looked up gratefully at Gibbs' house, strong and grey and waiting for him to go inside.
Tony didn't bother moving when the car stopped; he sat very still and tried to work up some energy until Abby pulled open his door for him. She reached in and squeezed him into a tight hug, leaning down awkwardly and giving McGee a nice view of her backside, which made Ziva smack him in the arm when he stared a little too long.
"I couldn't wait until you got inside to hug you," Abby said in Tony's ear. His breath hitched and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close and resting his forehead against her neck for a moment, trying to get his bearings before he had to get out of the car.
"You can let go now," he said a moment later, even though he was content to just sit there rather than make his way up the walkway and into the house.
She gave him one more squeeze and pulled away, kissing his cheek before edging out of the car-door area and stepping back to let Ziva and McGee take over. Tony sighed and set his cane down outside the car before swinging his legs out one by one, using his hands to help push his right leg out when it felt particularly weak. He sat still and tried to quell his rising panic, closing his eyes again and doing his best to stay composed.
"Are you ready?" Ziva asked after a pause.
Tony took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah," he said. He put his right hand on his cane and his left on the seat beside him, and Ziva stepped forward and put her hands underneath his armpits.
"On three," she said. "Okay?"
Tony nodded, jaw set in determination.
"One, two, three," Ziva counted, and Tony did his best to push himself up, but Ziva ended up doing a lot of pulling, and McGee even squeezed in and pushed his back forward when he almost tipped back against the car.
"Okay?" Ziva asked a moment later.
"No," Tony said with a weak laugh, his legs trembling beneath him. He was sandwiched between Ziva and McGee, and he knew he had to get into the house fast because his legs felt like jello.
"Come on," Ziva said, and her voice was soothing. "We will get there together. Tim and I will help you."
"Okay," Tony said, and they moved to either side of him and carefully helped him up the walk. He was glad he couldn't see Abby because he knew she must've been freaking out, and he wasn't sure he could handle her worry on top of his own.
They got to the front porch, and Ziva got in front of him again while Tim stood behind, ready to catch him if he fell back. Abby moved to his side and stayed close, just in case, and they managed to get him up to the door. Ziva flung it open, and getting inside and dropping down onto the couch was absolute bliss.
He sighed and closed his eyes once he was sitting in a boneless slump on the edge of the couch, breathing heavily and rubbing his face in weariness. Abby sat beside him and rubbed his back, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes and look at her.
"Tony, you should lie down," Ziva said. Tony squeezed his eyes closed and kept his hand over his face, ignoring her in favor of trying to keep his breathing calm. Now that he was on the couch, and three fucking people had to help him get there, he was beginning to feel overwhelmed and embarrassed.
He sighed and reached down to unlace his shoes, tugging them off with shaky hands and tossing them into the corner.
"Do you want me to get you something more comfortable to wear?" Abby asked, and Tony's breath sped up, thinking of her getting his sweatpants out of Gibbs' bedroom, and he shook his head.
"No," Tony said. "Just…not now."
Abby stood up and leaned down in front of him. "Come on," she said, pushing his shoulders back. "You have to lie down."
"Okay," Tony murmured, grunting as he got his legs up on the couch and twisting until he was lying on his back. He was ashamed to be slightly out of breath after exerting the energy to lie down, and he ran a hand over his face again.
"Guess you guys got more than you bargained for when you took me out to lunch," he said, trying desperately for his voice to sound light and not choked and nervous and scared.
"It is alright," Ziva said, leaning forward and running her fingers through his hair. "We are glad to be able to help you."
McGee pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over Tony.
"You tucking me in, Probie?" he asked, his voice thin.
McGee rolled his eyes and stepped back to sit in the armchair next to Gibbs' couch.
"We will stay with you until Gibbs gets here," Ziva said.
"Do you have something to take for this?" Abby asked.
"Yeah," Tony said. "In the kitchen. There are some pills on the counter; can you bring 'em in? And some water?"
"Okay," Abby said, rushing into the kitchen and coming back a moment later, juggling a glass of water and five containers of pills.
"Which ones?" she asked.
Tony pushed himself up to sitting again, his head swimming in dizziness, doing his best to stay upright without a backrest behind him. Ziva sat down next to him and held him up and he sagged against her gratefully.
He reached out and sorted through the pills, taking his regular afternoon dosage, plus an extra steroid that Dr. Foss told him to take if he had any sudden spikes in his symptoms.
"Thanks, Abs," he said, handing her the glass of water again and lying back down when Ziva shifted and gave him room.
Just as he settled back against the lumpy pillow at the end of the couch, the front door opened with a bang and Gibbs burst in, going straight to Tony and ignoring Abby, Ziva, and McGee.
He sat beside Tony and ran a hand through the hair near his forehead, his thumb moving in soothing circles over Tony's temple, and Tony closed his eyes and sighed in relief.
"Hey," Gibbs said, his voice soft. "You okay?"
Tony opened his eyes again and looked up at Gibbs with a small smile. "Been better," he said, and Gibbs smiled at him, in that way that he only did when they were alone, and Tony suddenly frowned, his eyes shifting towards his teammates, because even if he felt dizzy and achy and terrible, he still knew that Gibbs was acting, well, like his boyfriend, or whatever the fuck he was, and not his boss, but before he could gauge their reactions, Gibbs used his other hand to tilt Tony's chin back in his direction.
"You take your pills?" Gibbs asked, his hand warm against Tony's jaw.
"Yeah," Tony said. "The extra one, too."
Gibbs nodded in satisfaction. "Why are you still wearing your suit?" he asked.
"Too tired to change," Tony complained.
"It's gonna get wrinkled and you're gonna have a fit," Gibbs said, shifting the hand on Tony's jaw to rest on his shoulder.
"Don't care," Tony said. Gibbs gave him one last assessing look and turned to his team, who were standing very still and watching the two of them with wide eyes.
"Thank you," Gibbs said to them, and Tony reached up and covered his eyes with his hand after seeing the expressions on their faces.
"Jesus Christ, Gibbs," Tony hissed.
"What?" Gibbs said defensively.
"You're freaking them out," Tony said, hand still over his eyes.
"I don't give a shit," Gibbs said.
"Well I do, and I'm too tired to deal with this," Tony said.
"Oh my God," Abby said. "Oh my God. This is totally hinky."
"See?" Tony said miserably.
Gibbs rolled his eyes and tugged Tony's hand off of his eyes, holding onto it tightly rather than letting it go. Tony glared at him.
"Wait, wait, hinky in a good way!" Abby suddenly said, her words rushed. She scurried forward and stood next to Gibbs, close enough that Tony could easily see her without moving his head.
"Don't worry, Tony," she said. "You just let Gibbs take care of you." She paused, and grinned. "Oh my God," she said again. "You let Gibbs take really good care of you," she added, and she laughed when Gibbs gave her an irritated smack on the back of her head.
"Ow," she complained. "That hurts, Gibbs!"
"Now you know how we feel all the time," Tony said. His heart was beating fast, and he was pissed that Gibbs would do this to him, would out him without his consent, but at the same time he was kind of relieved that Abby didn't care, and he nervously peeked past her to Ziva and McGee.
Ziva strode forward with a hand on her hip and pointed at Gibbs accusingly. "That was not a very nice thing to do," she said. "Tony has had a terrible day and now you are-are putting him out and adding to his stress."
Gibbs looked at her with an annoyed and impatient expression on his face. "Putting him-"
"Outing," Tony said. "You're outing us." He paused and turned towards Ziva. "We're not gay," he said, glad that he wasn't so much tired as he was hurting so that he could handle the conversation without falling asleep, because he knew that he wouldn't be able to do that due to the clenching pain in his thigh.
Ziva looked confused for a moment, and she looked back and forth between Gibbs and Tony, and Tony tried not to think of how quiet McGee was being.
"Perhaps I have misunderstood?" she said, her brow furrowing as she pensively pressed her index finger against her chin, her eyes drifted over Gibbs' hand on Tony's jaw, and Tony's fingers interwoven with Gibbs'.
Gibbs snorted. "You understood just fine," he said. "Got a problem with it?"
"Of course not," Ziva said. "I am merely surprised. Tony is known for his love of women, after all. And you-"
"We're not gay," Tony said again.
"Then what are you?" Ziva asked, not accusingly but curiously. She was watching them warily, still trying to wrap her mind around it and wondering when her observation skills had started to decline enough for her to miss her two male co-workers getting romantically involved.
Tony paused for a moment, and Gibbs was watching him with a look of impatient amusement. "We're…um…" he trailed off, eyes drifting to the side. "Um," he said weakly, "we're just-I mean-"
"They just love each other!" Abby said happily, bringing her hands together in delight.
"Yeah, something like that," Tony said, ignoring the lurch in his stomach when Gibbs squeezed his hand as Abby mentioned the dreaded L-word.
Suddenly, Abby swung around and pointed to the armchair where McGee still sat, looking stunned.
"Timothy McGee!" she said angrily. "Get your butt over here right now and tell them that you support and accept them!"
McGee blinked at her and hastily obeyed, scrambling out of the chair and stepping forward.
"You don't have to say something you don't mean," Tony said with a frown.
"I just-what about rule 12?" McGee asked. He sounded like he just found out Santa wasn't real. "You're breaking your own rule?"
Gibbs shook his head. "We're not dating," he said in annoyance. "So we're not breaking a rule."
Ziva looked confused again, and Abby giggled.
"You're not-"
"Can you really picture us going out for romantic candlelit dinners, Probie?" Tony said, trying to sound casual and failing because he was pretty sure McGee was about three seconds away from calling Vance and getting them fired, and his leg was starting to cramp again.
Abby was giggling again, and Gibbs glared at her. "Gibbs," she said, "It's just - semantics," she said. "Oh my God."
"How long have you guys been-been…whatever you're doing?" McGee asked, and even in his worry, Tony found it amusing that he wasn't the only one who had no clue what to call the thing between him and Gibbs.
"Since Parker attacked me," Tony said.
"That's so cute!" Abby said, and Tony was alarmed to see that she was giggling with Ziva now.
"Ziva," Tony said. "Since when do you giggle?"
Ziva smiled at him, staving off her giggles. "Tony," she replied. "Since when do you - house up with Gibbs?"
"Shack up," Tony said in irritation, wondering why Gibbs wasn't saying anything and McGee still looked like a kicked puppy.
"This doesn't effect work," Gibbs finally said. "None of you had any idea about this before now, and nothing will change now that you know. This doesn't go into the office, you got that?"
All three of them nodded at once, and Tony marveled at how well trained Gibbs had them all.
"Why did you tell us this?" Ziva asked curiously.
Gibbs looked at Tony, who was also looking at him with curiosity, only it was tinged-okay, stained-with annoyance as well.
"Don't have anything to hide," Gibbs said with a shrug. "Was worried about him," he added. "I wanted to touch him, so I did. It wasn't about you."
Despite his anger and his pain, Tony smiled, because in a really warped, Gibbs way, that was rather sweet.
"Um," McGee said, "Just so you know, it doesn't bother me."
Tony turned and looked at him. "Is that why you look like your grandmother just died?"
"No," McGee said. He sounded irritated. "I was just surprised that Gibbs would break his own rule. And - and, well, maybe now you'll stop trying to call me gay all the time," he said. He sounded embarrassed and flustered, and Tony couldn't help but laugh.
"Probie," he said, "you are much gayer than I will ever be."
"Hey!" McGee said. "That's not-"
"He's right," Abby said, looking at McGee with a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, Timmy."
"Abby," McGee said, floored. "You, of all people-"
"Hey," Gibbs said, cutting into their argument. "You three have to go back to work."
"You are not coming?" Ziva asked, just as Tony reached out and gripped Gibbs' arm, his eyes squeezing shut and a groan escaping as his leg twitched.
"Gibbs," he gasped, "c-cramp."
"Easy," Gibbs said, turning back to him and a hand through his hair. "Easy," he repeated.
"Abby," Gibbs said quietly, turning to her. "Go upstairs to my room. There's a pair of Tony's sweatpants and a t-shirt on the bed. Get them."
Tony's breath hitched, and he squeezed his thigh. Gibbs leaned down and pressed a kiss into his forehead.
"What can I do?" Ziva asked quietly.
"Make a pot of coffee," Gibbs said. "Fill the water up to six, and put in four scoops. Big scoops."
Ziva nodded and made her way to the kitchen.
"Boss?" McGee asked. "What about-"
Gibbs shook his head, smoothing Tony's hair back. "We're good, McGee. Thanks for getting him in here."
"You don't need to thank me, Boss," McGee said.
Gibbs turned his head and looked at him seriously. "McGee," he said. "I meant it. Thank you."
McGee was taken aback for a moment, and he nodded. "You're welcome."
"You sure you don't have a problem with this?" Gibbs asked.
"I'm sure," McGee said. "It's really-it's weird," he added. "But I guess it kind of makes sense. In a really weird way. But not a bad weird, just a-"
"Hinky weird," Abby said, entering the living room with Tony's clothes in hand. She laid them over the armrest at the foot of the couch.
"Gibbs?" Tony said, opening his eyes and looking up at him. "Gibbs, I-I can't-"
"Shh," Gibbs soothed, before turning to Abby and McGee again. "I got a heating pad in the linen closet at the top of the stairs," he said. "Can one of you-"
"On it, Boss," McGee said, shaken by the pain Tony was suddenly displaying as he hurried out of the room.
"When you get back to work, tell Ducky what happened," Gibbs said to Abby. "Ask him to call me when he's leaving."
"Okay," Abby said, leaning forward and kissing Gibbs' cheek, giving him a hug, before leaning down and kissing Tony's forehead.
"Gibbs, take good care of him, okay?" she said, worry creeping into her voice.
Gibbs nodded, his eyes never straying from Tony's face.
"I'm right here," Tony managed, "don't have to-to talk about me like I'm not."
Gibbs leaned down and kissed him, their lips just barely brushing. "Relax," he murmured, kissing him once more before sitting back up, still running his fingers through Tony's hair. Tony closed his eyes and clutched Gibbs' sleeve, covering his face with his other hand.
Abby looked like she was about to cry, and she kissed Tony's forehead once more, right above his hand. "Let Gibbs take care of you, okay?" she whispered.
Tony nodded, keeping his hand firmly over his face.
"Gibbs, your coffee is brewing," Ziva said as she returned from the kitchen, and he nodded his thanks.
"Got the heating pad," McGee added, waving it as he entered the living room.
"Plug that in under the end table," Gibbs said, and McGee nodded, kneeling down to plug it in and unraveling the cord as he passed it over to Gibbs. Gibbs took it with a nod and spread it over Tony's thighs, and Tony squeezed his arm in response.
"Please keep us updated," Ziva said to Gibbs.
Gibbs nodded. "I will," he said.
Ziva leaned down and kissed Tony's forehead as well. "Take care, Tony," she said.
"If Vance asks where I am, tell him. If not, don't bring it up," Gibbs said.
Ziva and McGee nodded, and Abby merely bit her lip, staring at Tony with wide eyes.
"Abs," Gibbs said with a sigh. "He'll be fine."
Abby nodded, but she reached out and squeezed Gibbs compulsively before straightening.
"Okay," she said. "We'll go now. But call us, okay?"
Gibbs nodded, and Tony pushed his hand away from his face and looked at his coworkers.
"Thanks for everything," he said, voice hoarse.
"No problem, Tony," McGee said.
Tony watched as they left, and when he heard the front door close behind them, he felt a sob rise in his throat.
"Gibbs," he choked. "Gibbs, I-"
Gibbs leaned down and kissed him, then let his forehead rest against' Tony's for a moment before sitting back up. "I'm gonna call Dr. Foss," he said. "And we'll take it from there, okay?"
Tony closed his eyes and nodded, feeling tears trail down the side of his face. Gibbs kept stroking his hair as he pulled his cell phone out and managed to find Dr. Foss' number with one hand. Tony didn't pay attention to the words as Gibbs spoke to the doctor; instead, he merely let Gibbs' voice float over him as he tried desperately to calm down, but it was all coming at him fast - his legs giving way in front of the team, relying on them to get into Gibbs' house, the team finding out about Gibbs, the achiness all over his body - he reached out and clutched Gibbs' leg, squeezing tightly while doing his best to keep from outright sobbing.
"Tony," Gibbs said a moment later after hanging up the phone. "Tony, listen."
Tony opened his eyes and peered up at Gibbs. "Yeah," he said, sniffing wetly.
"Dr. Foss said to keep you here for a while and give the extra steroids time to kick in," Gibbs said. "If you're not doing better tomorrow morning, or it suddenly gets worse, we'll worry, okay?"
Tony nodded, feeling completely strung out as he tried to stem the tears still leaking out of his eyes. "Yeah," he whispered. "Gibbs…"
"I know," Gibbs said. "I'm gonna go get some tissues." He kissed Tony's forehead again and stroked his fingers down Tony's cheek before standing up, heading to the bathroom and quickly grabbing the box of tissues before making his way back to Tony.
"Let's get you to sit up a little," Gibbs said. He sat beside Tony, sliding his arm behind his shoulders and easing him up a bit.
"Dizzy," Tony said, and Gibbs paused and held him still.
After a moment, Gibbs grabbed a tissue and held it out, and Tony wearily blew his nose, holding his hand out for another tissue when his first was full. Gibbs sat closer to him and edged in behind him, wrapping his arms around his chest and unbuttoning his shirt.
"Don't think I'm in the mood," Tony mumbled, wiping stray snot off the base of his nose.
"Just changing your shirt," Gibbs said, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Tony's neck and letting his head rest there for a moment before undoing the last of Tony's buttons.
"What should I do with these?" Tony asked, holding out the tissues.
"Just throw 'em on the coffee table," Gibbs said. "I'll take care of 'em later."
Tony leaned back against Gibbs, and Gibbs held onto him for a moment, pressing kisses into the back of his neck.
"Just relax," Gibbs murmured. "I'm gonna move for a minute and go get your shirt, okay?"
"Okay," Tony murmured, gripping the couch cushions for balance when Gibbs moved out from behind him to reach down to the other end of the couch and grab Tony's t-shirt. He slid back in and helped Tony out of his button down shirt and then helped him tug his undershirt over his head before giving him his t-shirt. Tony pulled it on, and Gibbs tugged the bottom down in the back for him and then pulled him back against him again.
"The heating pad helping?" Gibbs asked.
"Dunno," Tony said wearily. "It hurts."
"Did you take any Tylenol?" Gibbs asked.
"No," Tony said, "I thought the extra steroids would work."
"Hang on," Gibbs said, "I'll go get you some." He slid out from behind Tony and checked to make sure he was pressed comfortably against the pillow next to the armrest before going into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and grabbing the bottle of Tylenol.
Tony waited for him, pulling the blanket up and shifting restlessly on the couch. He felt so uncomfortable and achy that he wanted to crawl out of his skin. He was relieved when Gibbs came back, and he eagerly took the Tylenol with the water waiting for him on the coffee table as Gibbs sipped his coffee.
"Let's change your pants," Gibbs said, setting his coffee down and grabbing Tony's sweatpants. He moved the heating pad up to Tony's chest for a moment and shifted the blanket up, and Tony let him take off his pants, doing his best to lift his hips up and hold them there long enough for Gibbs to do what he had to do.
"You tired?" Gibbs asked as he pulled the blanket back down and settled the heating pad back on his thighs after getting Tony's sweatpants on.
"A little," Tony said. "I don't think I can sleep, though."
"You wanna go up to the bed?" Gibbs asked, grabbing his coffee again before sitting beside Tony, resting his free hand on his chest.
"I don't think I can make it there," Tony admitted. "I can hardly sit up."
"I'll help you," Gibbs said. "You'll be more comfortable. Your back is gonna hurt even more if you stay down here."
Tony sighed, putting his hand over Gibbs' on his chest. "I'm gonna need a lot of help," he warned.
"I know," Gibbs reassured, "I got you."
"Okay," Tony said softly. Gibbs turned the heating pad off and set it aside and tossed the blanket over the back of the couch again as Tony managed to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the couch.
"I need a minute," Tony said, putting his head in his hands and trying to get the dizziness to pass.
Rather than responding, Gibbs merely sat beside him and put his arm around his shoulders, pulling Tony close and sipping his coffee.
Tony felt miserable. He leaned wearily against Gibbs' shoulder, his head pounding and his legs and back aching. "This is gonna be hard," Tony complained.
"Yeah," Gibbs agreed. "But you'll do it."
"I'll try," Tony said.
"No," Gibbs said, shaking his head. "You will, Tony."
Tony nodded in determination at Gibbs' confidence in him. "Okay."
Gibbs set his coffee down placed Tony's cane in front of him. He waited for Tony to grab onto it before reaching down and tugging him upwards, grabbing him in a tight hug when he felt him start to sway.
"Okay?" Gibbs asked, voice right next to Tony's ear.
Tony nodded against Gibbs' neck, and wound one hand into Gibbs' shirt, the other tight on his cane. "Okay," Tony said, trying to ignore the way his legs wobbled beneath him.
Gibbs took that as his cue and walked towards the stairs with Tony, going slow and doing his best to help him maneuver. They made it slowly up the stairs, though they did take a few breaks, and Gibbs just managed to pull the covers on the bed back before Tony eagerly flopped down in a boneless heap. Gibbs helped him shift up to the right spot on the bed, and Tony peered at him through half-lidded eyes.
"Lay with me?" Tony asked, and Gibbs nodded, pulling off his work shirt and grabbing a t-shirt instead.
"I'm gonna go get the heating pad first," Gibbs said as he changed his pants, and Tony nodded, watching him go. He pulled the blankets up close to his chin and sighed, closing his eyes as he thought of his day and how quickly it had went down the drain. It had started off fine, and lunch had been fun, even if it was odd to be talking about life with Gibbs, especially when Gibbs went and outed them to the team so soon afterward. Tony knew he would probably be mad about that later, when he wasn't so achy and exhausted and miserable. As it was, he couldn't help but think about how Gibbs had just wanted to touch him and make sure he was okay regardless of who saw, and how Gibbs that was, through and through. Gibbs didn't give a shit about anyone else and what they thought, and Tony couldn't waste the resources on worrying about that when he wanted Gibbs to lay with him and hold onto him and make him feel better.
Tony smiled at Gibbs when he got back to the bedroom, and Gibbs kissed him, slow and gentle, before plugging in the heating pad and settling it over Tony's legs.
"Turn over," Gibbs said as he climbed into bed beside him. "Let me rub your back."
"Really?" Tony asked hopefully.
Gibbs just gave him a very mild glare, and Tony wearily rolled over, with a little help from Gibbs, and Gibbs placed the heating pad on the back of Tony's legs once he was on his stomach.
"Comfortable?" Gibbs asked.
"Yeah," Tony said, and Gibbs leaned over and straddled him. Tony sighed when Gibbs' hands pressed into his shoulders, kneading into his muscles.
"Feel good?" Gibbs asked, thumbs pushing into the base of his neck and rubbing in circles, palms warm through the thin cotton of Tony's t-shirt.
"Mmm," Tony managed, closing his eyes and feeling his body melt into the bed.
Gibbs' hands were heavenly, and Tony felt himself begin to calm down, to let go of the embarrassment and helplessness and just feel the sensation of Gibbs' hands pushing into his muscles, easing the stiffness away.
"It's good," Tony murmured, and Gibbs leaned down and pressed a kiss against his neck in response before continuing his massage. Tony couldn't help but moan when Gibbs' hands got to a particularly tight knot in his back, and he felt like crying again when he realized how fucking lucky he was to have Gibbs.
"Gibbs," he murmured, eyes closed, hands clutching the sheet beneath him.
"I'm right here," Gibbs said, his hands moving further down Tony's back.
"I know," Tony said. "Don't know what I'd do without you," he added, voice breathy and relaxed as Gibbs' hands continued to work into his back.
"Don't have to find out," Gibbs said, and Tony felt tension he didn't even know he was carrying leave him, and he relaxed further into the mattress, his limbs sinking like stones.
He was so relaxed, he almost murmured a breathy, "love you," but he managed to stop before he embarrassed himself further. Instead, he sighed and savored the feeling of Gibbs' hands on his back and didn't fight it when he felt himself drift into sleep, knowing he was safe with Gibbs there to watch his six.
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