Chapter 8
Running his hands along the wood of the Kelly, Gibbs felt for rough spots that still required a few more rubs with the sandpaper before painting and smoothed out the minute imperfections that his experienced fingers found.
Whether she ever floated or not didn't really matter to him. In fact, his previous boats never even touched water, but it was the slow process of starting from a pile of timbers and creating a nearly living and breathing object that was so satisfying and very soon, he was beginning to realize lately, he would be finished with her. The thought made him sigh a little, what would he do after she was complete?
This boat had been his mental salvation for nearly five years and it saddened him a little to think that he might not have her to come home to work on anymore when she was done. Sure, any psychologist would say that his boat was just a coping mechanism and that he was using it as an escape from the thoughts, regrets and guilt that plagued him and kept him from otherwise sleeping peacefully. But he didn't care, the effort he put into her creation had been more therapeutic to him than any shrink ever could be, especially after his short-lived retirement to Mexico and the painful memories of Shannon and Kelly that had resurfaced then. Without his boat, he knew he would have gone completely off the deep end by now.
Maybe it was the repetitive motion of moving the sandpaper along the grain of her wooden hull that did it for him, that allowed for his mind to turn off, even if just for a little while, and let him forget all that haunted him or frustrated him. When he worked on his boat, it was as if the world above his head and outside of his basement disappeared and the only two things left in the universe were him and the wood. The way it curved, the smell of the sawdust and how it felt to have a tool in his hand as he brought his creation to existence always had a soothing effect on his soul unlike anything else ever could anymore.
However, as he attempted to work that night, it failed to work the magic it usually did right away and he found himself distracted.
Giving up on the sandpaper for now, he went over to his workbench for a break, grabbed his coffee mug and bottle of bourbon, pouring himself a spot and thinking as he sipped at the mellowing spirit.
Abby had been right. Tony wasn't acting himself. Sure, he was in physical pain, but that had never before stopped him from being the easy-going, sophomoric, jackass that he usually displayed towards the world. Gibbs knew it was a front and that his senior agent hid behind so convincingly and constantly, that when he dropped the act, even for a moment, it was a sure sign that something was troubling him.
However, he didn't know how to help him if he didn't know what was wrong and knowing, DiNozzo, it would take nothing short of a crowbar to admit any kind of vulnerability to him.
So, standing there all alone in his basement, Gibbs decided that the only thing he could do for now was hope that Tony would just get over what was bugging him and snap out of it. Once he got Tony out of the hospital, he was going to need to get him to focus if he was to get healed and back to work.
Gibbs suddenly turned his head towards his stairs, hearing a noise at the top. Thinking at first that he had an intruder, his Marine instincts took over and he reached for the spot he normally left his Sig, but swore to himself as he remembered leaving it upstairs when he changed clothes. Damn, the whole DiNozzo thing had him more distracted than he cared to admit. At least he still had his rifle and he went to the drawer that held it, but didn't have to open it as a black-haired, pig-tailed head poked out from the top of the stairs and he breathed a sigh of relief.
“Gibbs?” She called out “You down here?”
“Abby? What are you doing here at this hour? I thought you were going home after the hospital.”
Abby came down the stairs as quickly and as carefully as she could in her three-inch platform boots.
“Well, I was...But as I was leaving Tony's room I kinda sort of found something that I think he didn't want anyone to see...I think it's what's been making him so un-Tony-like. I probably should have just left it, but I took it anyway...I thought you should see it....”
“Abbs...What are you talking about.”
“This...” Abby pulled a card out of her handbag and held it put to Gibbs.
“A card?”
“Just read it...you'll see what I mean.”
Gibbs took the card with a hint of skepticism and opened it. Wishing he had on his glasses he held it out at arm's length to read it. If the outside of the card, with it's photo of sunflowers was any indication of who sent it, then Gibbs figured it had to be someone that didn't know Tony very well, but he was surprised to see the name hastily signed at the bottom of the card below the sappy and rather insipid poem wishing Tony to get better soon. Immediately, anger flashed across his features and through his body like an electric charge. He felt his teeth grind. Damn that man. he thought.
“What do you think, Gibbs?” Abby asked, but didn't wait for his answer “I think we need to do something about this.”
“Like what, Abby?”
“Like...I don't know....talk to Tony about it....let him know that his real family is right here- that he doesn't need his father, he's got us.”
Gibbs was surprised to feel his head snap up at the mention that Tony didn't need his father. It wasn't too long ago that Gibbs had felt the same way towards his own father as he had cut him out of his life because of the painful mistake the older man had made at Shannon and Kelly's funeral. For way too many years he had harbored a grudge against his father for bringing another woman to their funeral, but seeing him again just a few months ago and finding a way to patch things up had reminded Gibbs that he indeed did need his father and that Jackson Gibbs was in no small part responsible for him becoming the man he was now. Tony too needed his father, whether or not those two wanted anything to do with each other.
However, was it Gibbs' place to interfere?
He didn't the last time the younger man almost died. Then again, after the plague, Tony was back to work only a couple of weeks later, but this time around, his recovery was going to be considerably longer and more challenging. Perhaps it was time he took a chance and say the things he wanted to say years ago, but in person this time.
Abby was still looking at him expectantly and hoping for some kind of action. It was then that he came to a decision, whether it would prove to be a good one or not was still to be seen, but he owed it to Tony to try.
“I'll take you home Abby. In the morning, tell McGee and the Director that I'm taking the day off.”
OOOOOOOOOO
After five hours on the road and stopping only for coffee and a restroom once, Gibbs would be approaching his destination soon, but he was still uncertain that he was doing the right thing.
What if he was crossing a line here?
He went over his reasons for his actions in his head and once again pulled out the memories of the last time he spoke with the man he was going to pay a surprise visit to early that morning.
Four years earlier:
“Agent Gibbs?”
“Yes?”
Gibbs turned to face Dr. Pitt, tearing his eyes away from the glass partition that separated him from his agent fighting for his life on the other side. Earlier, he made sure that Tony knew that he was expecting him to survive and he knew that the younger man would do just about anything to not disappoint his boss, but still...was it enough? There was only so much motivation one could give when faced with odds Tony had of beating this...
15%, Dr. Pandi had explained to him at gun-point.
Not good odds, but enough for him to expect Tony to win over this disease. As long as there was any chance of keeping his senior field agent around, he'd take it. Even still, the reality of the situation had been sobering since the first time he saw Tony struggling to breathe through blue lips under the glare of those eerie ultraviolet lights above.
“I was just wondering if Agent DiNozzo has any family that we should contact?” The young doctor asked.
“He has a father, but they aren't on speaking terms.” Gibbs replied simply, thinking that would be the end of it.
“If you know how to contact his father it might be best that he know that his son's condition is quite critical." Dr. Pitt continued. " The Y-Pestis has stopped multiplying, but the secondary infection causing his pneumonia has still yet to respond to the antibiotics we're administering and I still can't be certain that they will. He's a very long way from being out of the woods and I just think that if things should deteriorate, his father might want to see him before....”
“Tony's not going to die.” Gibbs cut him off, tersely.
“I know you want to believe that Agent Gibbs, but I've seen patients that appear to be recovering and do well and then hours later they take a turn for the worse and never make it...I'd just hate to think that Agent DiNozzo never got a chance to see any of his family in case that happened.”
Reluctantly, Gibbs had to admit that if he had been the one to be on his deathbed, then he might consider wanting to see his father one last time, even if he hadn't spoken to the man in years. Even if it was to just say good-bye.
So, battling his gut, he found himself getting Abby to track down Vincent DiNozzo's personal phone number and calling, listening to the phone ring.
“Vincent DiNozzo.” A gruff voice answered.
“Mr. DiNozzo, my name is Special Agent Gibbs, I work for NCIS and I'm calling regarding your son.”
“My son? What has he done now?” Gibbs bristled at the abrasive tone the other man had taken at the mention of his own son.
“Sir, your son works for NCIS with me and I'm informing you that he's in the hospital here at Bethesda and is critically ill. He's holding his own for now, but doctors are still not 100% certain that he's going to make it. I thought it best that you should know and that you might want to see him... just in case.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Mr. DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, wondering if he was still there.
“I'm afraid that I am on my way to the airport right now...I have a vital meeting to attend in Amsterdam that I need to be present for....I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, but I just cannot come...My secretary will see to it that he knows I was thinking of him.”
“Don't you think he'd want to hear that from you personally?” Gibbs couldn't help but blurt out in irritation.
“Agent Gibbs, I would suggest that you stay out of this...Anthony is myson and he's a DiNozzo, he knows how important overseas meetings are to our business...He'll understand.”
“That is, if he survives....sir.” Gibbs ground out between clenched teeth.
“That's all I have to say on this, Agent Gibbs...Now please leave this between our family....Good-day.” Abruptly the phone went silent and Gibbs cursed out loud, wanting to throw the phone across the room, but made due with just snapping it shut forcefully in frustration. It was little wonder why Tony had so little to do with his father, but what could he do about it? It wasn't as if he had a shining example of what a father and son relationship should look like himself.
So he let it be.
As promised, a card arrived a day later from his father, or at least a card bearing his father's signature arrived, even though Gibbs knew that it would have been impossible for the man to send the card personally if he had been in Europe at the time. Gibbs didn't say anything to Tony about that, why add insult to injury.
Yet, he saw the change that came over Tony after he received that card. He knew that Tony didn't believe his father had actually sent it himself. Gibbs could see how much it distressed the younger man and how despite how miserable he had to be feeling not only physically from the illness, but from his own father's lame excuse for a greeting had forced him to smile a little too brightly and try a little too hard to prove to everyone, including himself that he was just fine, even if he clearly wasn't.
Gibbs didn't buy it then and he wouldn't buy it now.
He regretted not doing anything then, but things would be different this time around.
Gibbs turned onto the highway that would take him the last few miles to his destination. Last time he had wanted to give the man a piece of his mind, but held back, but now...things had changed. He had changed...his relationship with Tony had changed, his own relationship with his father had changed. Sure, he wasn't Tony's father, but he would never take him for granted like Vincent DiNozzo had....even though he had to admit that he had taken his own father for granted for far too long.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Gibbs increased his speed, determined to do what he should have done all those years ago.
Dawn had broken into a beautiful spring day as he pulled into the lush, Long Island neighborhood filled with multi-million dollar mansions. He drove past the perfectly manicured lawns and gated drives until he found the number that Abby had tracked down for him before he left.
Looking at the impressive structure, Gibbs steeled his resolve and pulled up to the gate. After rolling down the window and pressing the call button on the intercom, he was asked to state his name and reason for visit by a voice on the other end. Showing his badge to the video camera located above the intercom, he spoke into the speaker.
“I'm Special Agent Gibbs with NCIS. I'm hear to see Vincent DiNozzo.”
TBC...
The T.A.D. by Angie
Chapter End Notes:
A/N: Thanks to everyone that is still continuing to read this story, it's turning into a far more complex story than I had anticipated at the beginning and I was worried about it dragging a bit, but I promise the pace will pick up and we'll see some more action before the end. Until then, let me know what you think. I love hearing from everyone and all kinds of feedback is welcome, good or bad, as it helps me to improve the story and gives me a better idea of what you want to read next. :D