Tony managed half of another mushy ham and cheese sandwich before pushing his tray away, glad Gibbs had stepped out to get coffee for a moment so he didn't have to hear the man tell him to eat more food. He wasn't that hungry to begin with, and the sandwich really was not appetizing.
He idly flipped through the channels on the ancient TV in his room, pressing extra hard since the "up" button didn't quite work, while his thoughts meandered about his brain. He wondered if he would be cleared for field duty-would they be able to rid him of his headaches and dizziness and ensure that he would not go temporarily blind again? And for that matter, would he need glasses? Would this happen again and his vision would get worse every time until finally he would be permanently blind? And what exactly was wrong with him?
With a sigh, he shut the TV off and tossed the remote control onto the table near his bed. He was about to close his eyes and sleep-anything was better than sitting there thinking-when he heard a knock on his doorframe.
"Tony?" Her voice was soft as she came into his room. "You were not sleeping, were you?" she asked.
He turned his head towards the door and smiled. "Ziva!" he said. "What'd you bring me?"
"Ah ah ah," she said, "Not so fast. You will answer my question first," she said as she folded her long jacket over the back of the chair next to his bed, khaki fabric just brushing the floor. She sat gingerly in the chair, her hair falling down her back in waves. As she leaned forward to look at him, it brushed the edge of his bed. "Were you sleeping?" she asked.
"No," Tony said. "Nothing on the old boob tube, so I turned it off."
"I assume that by 'boob tube' you mean the television?" Ziva asked, looking both curious and appalled at the same time as she leaned back in her chair, satisfied after her perusal of his face that Tony's response was the truth.
"Yeah, now what'd you bring me?" Tony asked, ignoring the opportunity to poke at Ziva's English skills and instead looking at a small white paper bag in her hands eagerly.
"McGee and I brought you a donut," she said, crossing her legs as she handed him the bag.
Tony eagerly pushed his bed up a bit so that he was sitting up, ignoring the dizziness that came when he moved upwards. "Jelly?" he asked.
"Of course," she said. "We know that is your favorite. But you should be careful; if you get it on yourself, the nurses will know," she warned. "And Gibbs will know."
"You underestimate me," Tony said with a grin, grabbing the bag when she held it out. He opened it and peeked in eagerly. Just looking at it tasted better than hospital food.
"Perhaps I should not have given that to you," Ziva mused, her eyes taking in his half eaten lunch as Tony pulled the donut from the bag.
Tony gave her a look of disbelief as he swallowed his first huge bite. "Why not?" he asked as he took a second.
"You did not finish your lunch," she said, pointing towards his discarded sandwich.
"You try eating that," Tony said, only with the donut in his mouth, it came out as, "oohrydngtht."
As a testament to all of her time spent with Tony, Ziva knew immediately what he said. "I think not," she said with a grimace.
"Where's McGoo?" Tony asked, licking the powder off of one finger.
"He will be here any minute," Ziva said. "He stopped to use the bathroom."
Tony shoved the last of his donut in his mouth and grinned at the face Ziva gave him. "You must be getting better," Ziva said, "since you are still eating like a hog."
Tony just shrugged and turned towards the doorway when he heard footsteps entering. "McTardy!" he said, grabbing a napkin out of the bag his donut came in and wiping his face.
"Hey Tony," McGee said. "Guess you got your donut." He sat heavily beside Ziva.
"Sure did, thanks Probie," Tony said, then paused, looking at the two of them curiously. "Why aren't you at work? Did you get Barrett already?"
"It is a Saturday, Tony," Ziva said.
"So? We're in the middle of a case!" Tony said.
"Forrester's team is doing some surveillance for us," McGee said.
"Director wants us available for cases that aren't dead ends," Gibbs said as he came through the doorway, coffee in hand.
"Oh, hey Boss," Tony said. "You didn't by chance bring me a skinny hazelnut latte no whip extra foam, did you?"
Gibbs just gave him a glare instead. "Wouldn't order that crap if you paid me to."
Tony sulked for a moment, especially when McGee laughed.
"Tony," Ziva began, interrupting his sulk, "are you feeling better?"
"A bit," Tony said.
"I am glad to hear that you can see again," she said.
"Me too," Tony said.
"How much longer are you here for?" McGee asked, as Gibbs stood leaning against the wall, watching the three of them closely.
"I get sprung tomorrow morning, right Boss?" Tony asked, glancing at Gibbs for verification.
"That's the plan," Gibbs said. He didn't sound as if he really knew what to make of it.
"And your symptoms are gone?" Ziva asked. "No more headaches, or dizzy spells?"
"Nope," Tony said.
Gibbs snorted and gave Tony a pointed look.
"Okay," Tony conceded, "maybe I still have a little headache." Damn, Gibbs was still staring. "Okay, a big headache," he amended. He wouldn't look in Gibbs' direction, but he could tell that he was still watching, and it didn't help that Ziva and McGee kept looking back and forth between the two of them. "Fine, okay, I still have a little problem with being dizzy," Tony said.
"And...?" Gibbs prompted.
"And what?" Tony asked.
"How's your vision?"
"Fine," Tony said in clipped tones.
"Tony, they're your team; they need to be filled in," Gibbs said. It only served to make Tony more irritated that he was being gentle again.
"Fine," Tony said, turning towards Ziva and McGee with a tight smile. "I'm only seeing 20/50, not 20/10. I can hardly stand up without losing my balance. And this headache is not going anywhere." He looked away from them when he finished speaking, back at the same windows he'd been looking at all day long. He wondered if someone in one of the rooms across the courtyard was about to go home-or find out they were about to die-or actually dying-
His thoughts were interrupted when Ziva's hand covered his own.
"You will get better, Tony," she said. "You just have to be patient."
"I was never very good at that," Tony muttered.
"I'll say," Gibbs said, taking a long, final swig of his coffee before tossing it into the trashcan next to Tony's bed. Ziva patted Tony's hand once before pulling hers away.
"Like you're so patient," Tony said to Gibbs, sparing him a glance.
Gibbs gave him a look that Tony couldn't quite decipher; it was similar to the strange gentle one he'd been wearing more frequently since Tony had been in the hospital, but there was a hint of something else there, something unfamiliar but not unpleasant. "When it matters I am," he said a moment later. He paused for a moment. "Can't be a sniper without patience," he added, the look completely gone now.
"Guess not," Tony admitted.
"Eating a donut instead of lunch isn't going to help you get better," Gibbs added, taking a seat on the edge of Tony's bed, down near his feet, with his body angled towards Tony's face. He was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, and whenever he saw him like that, Tony couldn't help but think he liked his boss much better that way.
Tony's first instinct was to deny the donut, but instead he looked down at himself and frowned when he noticed some jelly on the front of his shirt. He grabbed a napkin and clumsily did his best to wipe it away, then tossed the napkin into his trashcan. Hoping his guests wouldn't read too much into it, he eased his bed back down just a little bit, enough that he wasn't quite sitting up anymore, but not laying down, either.
"Are you tired?" Ziva asked. "Do you need to rest?"
"No," Tony said, though if he were honest with himself, he did feel like he could use a nap. "It's just more comfortable like this," he said, letting his head rest heavily on the pillows.
"McGee has been using your Mighty Mouse stapler," Ziva told him after a few moments of silence. Tony glanced at her and saw that she wore a sly grin.
"I have not!" McGee protested. Ziva looked at him with an arched brow, and he flushed.
"I used it once," McGee said, his voice thin. "Mine ran out of staples."
"You refill it?" Tony asked, his limbs beginning to feel heavy.
"I only used one staple," McGee complained. "What was I supposed to do, break one off the new row and put it in your stapler?"
Tony smiled tiredly. "Mmhmm," he murmured. He didn't like how his energy seemed to come in waves ever since he'd begun feeling ill. He'd feel fine, then it was like someone zapped the energy right out of him.
"I'll be sure to do that before you come back," McGee said. His voice was softer this time, and against his will, Tony felt his eyes drifting closed.
Tony tried to say something in response-something threatening, about how he'd better or his fingers would be superglued to the keyboard faster than he could say "Elf Lord"-but instead he managed an "mmpf," and he felt soft fingers pat his hand before fuzziness swept over his mind and sleep overtook him.
--
As Tony began to wake next, he could hear the flipping pages of a magazine and a few soft snickers-Ziva and McGee?-and when he allowed his eyes to slide open, he turned his head to the side and saw them, still sitting beside his bed. He became aware of a dip in the bed near his feet, and he glanced down and saw Gibbs sitting there, Abby tucked under his arm.
"Tony! You're awake!" Abby said with a beaming smile, looking like she would pounce on him if it weren't for Gibbs' arm, heavy around her shoulders.
Tony smiled tiredly and wiped a hand over his brow, letting his thumb circle near his temple for a moment, hoping to ease the pounding behind his eyes. "Why didn't anyone wake me up for the party?" he asked, the words blurred together through a yawn.
"You look as if you wish to be resting more," Ziva said, her brow furrowed as she assessed him.
Tony shook his head, but stopped when it helped neither the sharp pain of his headache, nor the vague dizziness that seemed to plague him. "No," he said instead. "'sok," he added. "'m not tired."
He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and then let it fall to rest on his chest, still finding it odd that the people around him were vaguely blurry as his vision was still not yet up to par. He hoped it would improve more soon.
"What time is it?" he asked, glancing towards his window. Someone had pulled the curtains closed, so he couldn't see across the courtyard anymore.
"1400," Gibbs said. "Slept about an hour," he added.
Tony glanced at McGee, who was still looking at something in the magazine Ziva was holding, and at Ziva, who was looking at him critically.
"Don't you guys have something more exciting to do on your Saturday?" he asked, reaching beside him to push his bed up a little bit so that he wasn't lying down.
"Yes," Ziva said, "McGee is wasting precious time in which he could be elevating his Elf Lord status." She laughed, and McGee rolled his eyes at her but didn't say anything-probably because it was true. Tony smiled, but it drooped when he turned to see Abby glaring at him.
"What?" he asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Abby crossed her arms over her chest defiantly, and Gibbs was looking at him with an amused smirk from beside her that left Tony feeling a bit nervous.
"Anthony DiNozzo!" she said. "Are you stupid?"
Tony's brow furrowed, and he tried to figure out what he did wrong. Before he could answer, she continued.
"Of course we don't have something more exciting to do! Well, maybe something more exciting, but not something more important! You're in the hospital!" she said, arms uncrossing to gesticulate expressively as she spoke. "Of course we're going to come visit you because we're worried about you, you jerk!" she said, then scooted forward and leaned down to hug him.
Tony's arms reflexively wrapped around her in return, and after a moment, he sighed and gave her a gentle squeeze. Her hair brushed against his chin and just as he was about to close his eyes and resign himself to an extended Abby hug, she pulled away from him, and his arms stayed suspended in the air for a moment out of surprise before they settled back down beside him, and he looked at her warily.
"Don't you talk like that, Tony!" she said, and this time she wagged a finger at him threateningly and stood up, moving to sit on the other vacant chair beside Ziva.
"Sorry, Abs," Tony said weakly.
"While perhaps Abby expressed herself much more aggressively than I, the sentiment is entirely the same," Ziva said. McGee nodded from beside her, and Gibbs was just silently watching Tony, an expression on his face that Tony couldn't quite place.
"But do not allow your head to swell because of it," Ziva added.
"For the record," McGee interrupted, sounding vaguely haughty, "I would not have spent all day gaming."
Silence followed his words, punctuated by a snort of disbelief from Gibbs.
"Stopping to walk Jethro doesn't count," Abby said, and Tony quirked a smile while McGee crossed his arms grumpily.
"And what was it you would have done today, McGee?" Ziva asked.
"It's none of your business," he said snippily.
"Oooh!" Tony said, "something scandalous?" While his teasing didn't have the same enthusiasm behind it as usual, it was close, and it was comforting to tease McGee and talk with his coworkers-friends-even if his mind was preoccupied with whatever was going on with his health, and his head was pounding, and dizziness crept in on him even when he was still.
"No," McGee said, "I'm just saying, I do more than play video games."
"Yes, I seem to recall you enjoy writing, as well," Ducky said, walking into the room and shoving a coffee into Gibbs' hands. "Good to see you awake, Tony," he added, sitting next to McGee in the last empty chair in the room. "Has your vision improved?"
"Not really," he said, "Still blurry."
"Ah," Ducky said. "Well, do not fret, Tony, because these things are sensitive and liable to change at any moment."
Gibbs took a sip of his coffee, and tipped his cup towards Ducky in thanks, to which Ducky inclined his head. "Do you know," he said, "I have never been to a Starbucks in which the line has been less than six people long? It reminds me of the teahouse I used to frequent as a boy-"
"Gotta know what time to get there," Gibbs interrupted.
"You are so very fond of interrupting, Jethro," Ducky commented. "And I suppose you are going to tell me that when you go to Starbucks there is no line because you simply know what time to get there?"
Gibbs shrugged in something akin to agreement. "Most of the time," he said. "Not in the afternoon," he added. "Really early."
Tony wasn't sure he wanted to know when "really early" was, because in Gibbs' world, it probably meant 4:30 AM every day. He grimaced at the thought. Early mornings were not his favorite.
A knock on the doorframe interrupted their conversation, and Tony squinted and recognized the pale skin and dark hair of Dr. Foss.
"It's great to see so many visitors," he said, "but I hope you're not all wearing him out," Dr. Foss said with a smile.
"No, they're not," Tony said.
"He just woke up!" Abby said in their defense. "I mean, we didn't wake him up, but he was sleeping, and he woke up on his own, but we were all here-"
"Abs," Gibbs said, and Abby stopped speaking, and instead, smiled brightly at the doctor, who was looking at her curiously. He shook his head and turned towards Tony.
"I'm sorry to say your visit will have to be put on hold," he said. "I'd like to re-test your vision and do a few more assessments. It won't take long, but you'd probably like your guests to wait outside," he said.
"You heard the man," Tony said to his guests with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Abby sprang up and gave him a quick but firm hug and a kiss on the cheek before retreating, and Ziva patted his hand while McGee gave a short nod.
"Tony," Ducky said as the other three filtered out of the room, "it's up to you whether I stay or leave, but as your personal physician-"
"Stay, Duck," Gibbs said. Ducky glanced at Tony, who shrugged.
"It's just a vision test," he said, and Gibbs stood up from the end of the bed and sat next to Ducky.
"I also plan to retest your balance, reflexes, and sensation," Dr. Foss said, glancing through his chart.
Tony sighed and resigned himself to being prodded and questioned yet again. Maybe he could bribe McGee into helping him escape...or maybe not, he thought, as Gibbs shot him a Look equivalent to a visual headslap as he seemed to know exactly what Tony was thinking. Tony turned his attention to the doctor. With Gibbs present, he knew it was best to just shut up and get these tests over with.
--
Tony pushed his food tray away with a yawn before running a tired hand through his hair. It had been a long day with his many visitors and tests, and it was beginning to take a toll. Everyone had left by then, except Gibbs, who didn't make any of his usual "eat your food" comments when Tony barely ate a quarter of the "turkey dinner" the hospital brought out; not even Gibbs would want to subject someone to that.
"Long day, huh?" Gibbs said, taking a seat on the edge of Tony's bed.
"Yeah," Tony said, shifting a bit to get comfortable against his pillows. His eyesight remained the same, and his sensation and reflexes tests earlier had been fine, but his balance was still not quite right. The doctors had put him back on an IV and were planning to keep him into the day the next day rather than release him in the morning. He sighed and tried to keep the vaguely panicky thoughts trying to invade his brain at bay.
"Hey," Gibbs said, laying a hand over Tony's forearm. Tony looked at him in surprise-not because of the hand on his arm, but because of how warm the hand on his arm felt, and how he felt so...protected with Gibbs sitting on his bed and laying a weathered, calloused hand against his skin. He suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable, and Gibbs' earlier words were coming back at him-it's okay to be scared-and he swallowed thickly and looked away.
"Hey," Gibbs said again, and this time, he leaned in a little bit closer and touched Tony's chin lightly, turning his head so he was forced to look at him.
"We'll get you through this," Gibbs said, and his voice was quiet, but not soft. Instead it was intense and gruff and Gibbs.
Tony fought the urge to laugh it off and act like he was fine, because dammit, he wasn't, and Gibbs knew that as well as he did. So he nodded, not looking away from Gibbs. "Boss," he began, and this time his eyes did shift away because suddenly he was being serious. "Boss, how do I get through this when I don't know what it is?" he asked, his voice hitching at the end. "How do I-what if I can't-"
"You aren't getting through anything," Gibbs interrupted, and there was a sense of finality to his voice that instantly stopped Tony's words and made his eyes jerk right back into Gibbs' stare. "We will get through this, Tony," Gibbs said, and this time, his hand reached out and if Tony weren't in a hospital bed, he was sure it would have been a head slap-but instead, Gibbs lightly stroked the hair near his forehead, pushing it away from his face, before dropping his hand.
"Take things one day at a time," Gibbs said, and his hand was back at his side now, away from Tony's face, but Tony could still feel it there, warm against his skin. He swallowed thickly and nodded.
"How's the headache?" Gibbs asked.
"Huh?" Tony said, surprised by the change in conversation.
"You go deaf, too?" Gibbs asked, and Tony gaped at him for a moment, trying to process this abrupt switch back to normal Gibbs territory.
"I'm not deaf!" Tony protested. "And my headache's getting a little better," he admitted. "Must be this," he said, waving the arm to which his IV was attached.
"Don't knock that out," Gibbs said, reaching out and steadying Tony's hand.
Tony grumbled a little bit but let Gibbs push his hand back down onto the bed, and used his other hand to cover a yawn.
"Go to sleep," Gibbs said, standing up and re-seating himself in one of the chairs next to Tony's bed. He reached over and pulled a magazine from Tony's bedside table, and raised a skeptical eyebrow when he realized it was the one Ziva and McGee were reading earlier-Cosmo-but held onto it anyway since it was the only one there.
"Wish I had a camera," Tony said drowsily. "I want to remember you reading Cosmo for the rest of my life," he added.
Gibbs grunted and tossed the magazine aside. He'd rather watch paint dry.
"You can go home, Boss," Tony said as he adjusted his bed to lie flat.
"Goodnight, Tony," Gibbs said in response, not moving from his chair.
Tony flushed a little bit; Gibbs was being so supportive. He didn't know the man had it in him. But he knew that if it were Gibbs sick in a hospital bed with an unknown illness with very strange symptoms, he would probably do the same thing, and if he were honest with himself, he really wasn't surprised to have him there. And it was kind of nice, he thought, to have someone close by to watch his six while his own defenses were down.
"Don't you have stuff to do?" Tony asked finally, fighting to keep his eyes open. After all, even if he liked having him there, he didn't have to let Gibbs know that.
"Yeah, gotta make sure my senior field agent follows doctor's orders," Gibbs said.
Tony chuckled as his eyes fell closed. "I will," he said, and Gibbs snorted in response.
"I'm sure," Gibbs murmured, his eyes roaming over Tony, taking in the IV and the pale skin with a frown.
"G'night, Boss," Tony said. Gibbs was surprised to hear his voice-he thought Tony had already fallen asleep.
"Goodnight," Gibbs said quietly once Tony's breathing evened out into sleep, before reaching out and brushing his hair back once again. Tony shifted towards his hand, even in sleep, and Gibbs sighed before turning and leaving the hospital room. He had a boat to work on, and sleep to catch up on before he came back in the morning.
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.