Gibbs entered the bullpen, purposefully ignoring those well meaning colleagues who wanted to know how Tony was doing; he answered most of them with a curt, “He’s holding his own,” and hoped that his reply would satisfy them, at least temporarily. Tony was well liked and it was a constant battle for Gibbs to keep other supervisors and agencies from luring DiNozzo away from his team. He was grateful that Tony had never entertained the thought of leaving; DiNozzo was the heart of his team and a team couldn’t live without its heart.
Perhaps that’s why McGee’s apparent eagerness to become his senior field agent left him riled and angry with the younger man for entertaining the idea. Tim was a good agent, but he wasn’t Tony and until he learned to listen to his instincts instead of a computer, he would never even begin to measure up to DiNozzo.
As he rounded the corner, he found himself stopping in front of Tony’s desk. Everything was in its place, waiting patiently for the return of their owner. He sat down in DiNozzo’s chair and opened the top desk drawer where he kept the former Marine’s medals that he had obtained over the years. Gibbs had never understood the younger man’s fascination with the awards; most of them had been given for some act of bravery when he had simply been doing his job.
His picked up the box that was lying on top, allowing his calloused fingers to dance over the ribbon and medal. He didn’t deserve these awards, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that his senior field agent deserved every one of these medals that he kept hidden in his desk drawer. Gibbs closed the case that held the precious medal and stuck it in his coat pocket; he would make sure he presented it to its rightful owner.
He stood up and headed over to his own desk, the fact that Ziva and McGee were not at their stations had not gone unnoticed. They were probably doing their best to avoid him and at the moment, that was probably a wise decision on their part.
“Jethro?”
Gibbs glanced up at the sound of the familiar voice of his old friend. “Hey, Duck,” he tiredly greeted. “What’s up?”
“I was just on my way out to take mother to her doctor’s appointment and I had to drop off something by Timothy’s desk, but obviously he’s not here.”
“No, he’s not.”
“I figured that you would still be with Anthony. Did he get settled into the rehab center?”
“Pretty much,” Gibbs replied, leaning back in his chair. “He’s resting and waiting for me to bring him back a pizza.”
“That sounds like our boy. Do you think he’s up for some company? Perhaps I can stop by after mother’s appointment,” the ME suggested.
“I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”
The team leader knew by the awkward pause that Ducky was contemplating his next words. Because of their long friendship, Gibbs had a difficult time hiding his true feelings from the ME. “Is there something bothering you, Jethro?” the doctor gently probed.
Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose, the events of the last few days finally catching up to him. Blowing out a pent up breath, he tossed his pencil on his desk. “Did you know that the Director offered McGee the job of senior field agent?”
“No, I didn’t,” Ducky admitted, his expression now one of surprise. “Surely she realizes that Tony will be coming back.”
"Evidently not.”
“Well, just imagine the look on her face when Tony comes strolling back in…”
Gibbs’ eyes narrowed at the unintentional slip of the tongue. He was aware that Ducky would never say anything that could be construed as hurtful or demeaning, but the reality of Tony never ‘strolling’ into the bullpen was almost unbearable.
“I’m sorry, Jethro,” Ducky apologized. “I didn’t mean…”
The team leader waved off the older man’s apology. “I know, Duck. I know what you meant and you’re right about one thing; Tony will be back and he will come back as my senior field agent.”
“What about Timothy’s promotion?”
“What about it? If the Director wants to promote him, I can’t stop her; but he’s not going to be my senior field agent.”
“Jethro, maybe…”
He was aware that Ducky took pride in his role as a peacemaker but at the moment, Gibbs wasn’t ready to listen to the ME’s reasoning. The only words he was interested in hearing were the ones that would come out of Jenny’s mouth as she tried to offer a plausible reason for permanently benching DiNozzo. Rising from his desk, he began to make his way to the stairs that would take him to the Director’s office.
Ducky grabbed his arm in an effort to stop him but Gibbs easily pulled free. “Not now, Duck,” he warned.
“Jethro, please don’t do anything you’ll end up regretting.”
He didn’t acknowledge the ME’s advice, his attention was now focused on the two individuals that he had nearly bowled over. Any other time, he might have been remotely amused by the identical expressions of shock on McGee and Ziva’s faces, but now, seeing them only fueled his rage.
It was McGee who finally broke the awkward silence. “Boss, we didn’t expect you back so soon. We figured that you’d be busy with Tony and uh…”
“I had some things to take care of,” he growled.
“Anything we can help with?” Ziva asked.
Gibbs shook his head. “Nope.”
“How’s Tony doing?” McGee nervously inquired.
Not trusting his voice to answer McGee’s obvious attempt at deterring his wrath, Gibbs stepped around the two agents and resumed his trek up the stairs to Shepherd’s office. As he started up the stairs, McGee called out, “If you’re going to see the Director, she’s not in her office.”
Stopping in his tracks, he turned around and impatiently waited for McGee to finish informing him exactly where Jenny was. When no voluntary response came, he walked back down the stairs and stood toe to toe with McGee. “I assume you know where she’s at.”
“Uh, yeah Boss, she’s down in the lab talking to Abby.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know; she didn’t want us to stay.”
“I guess your new promotion wasn’t enough to wrangle an invitation,” he seethed.
Gibbs couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction when McGee paled at his icy retort.
“Boss, I…uh…” McGee stammered.
“You got something to say, McGee?”
“Well, I…um…”
“That’s what I thought.”
Gibbs headed towards the lab; his purposeful stride was clearly reflecting the resentment he was feeling. He knew that he would have to eventually talk to McGee about his promotion, but he had more pressing matters to attend to; the team leader had to make sure that the Director understood that Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was still his senior field agent and would remain in that position until Tony choose to do something else with his life.
Walking into the lab, he saw Abby confronting Jenny. Determination was etched in both of their lovely features, neither woman backing down from what had obviously become a heated argument.
He cleared his throat as he approached Abby. “Is there a problem, Abs?”
“I’m not the one who has a problem,” she spat, her eyes sparkling with fury and the passion that came whenever Abby was defending someone she cared about.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I simply came here to…” Jenny began, taking the opportunity to defend her actions.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Gibbs snapped, turning his attention back to Abby.
With a satisfied smirk, the forensic scientist explained, “She was just informing me that I had no business informing you of Agent McGee’s promotion.”
“Really? I guess she wanted to reserve that honor for herself; she knows how much I like surprises. Isn’t that right, Jen?”
Jenny placed her hands on her hips. “Just who do you think you’re talking to?”
“I used to know, but lately, I’m not so sure.”
“Well, I’ll be more than happy to remind you. I’m the Director of NCIS and your boss,” she shot back. “And just for your information, I don’t care how pissed you are at me, I will not allow you to talk to me like I’m one of your suspects.”
Gibbs grabbed her by the arm and escorted her to the elevator. “Fine, we’ll continue this conversation in private.”
As soon as the doors closed, he smacked the emergency stop button and whirled around, forcing the Director to take a step back. This was going to be more than a private conversation; this was going to be a lesson in loyalty; Jenny Shepherd would soon understand that he never left a man behind and he certainly didn’t count him out because he could no longer walk.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tony wondered how many more people were going to traipse in his room and introduce themselves as a member of his ‘team’; the people who were devoted to helping him learn how to live with his newfound disability seemed to increase every minute. He silently hoped that there wouldn’t be a pop quiz later because there was no way that he could remember all those names.
Gretchen and a couple of aides had come in and sat him in a chair next to the window. She had insisted that he needed to start spending time out of bed and start getting some of his strength back. Everyone seemed to have their own idea what was best for him; maybe one day someone would ask him what he wanted but until then, he would have to play their games.
A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. He dreaded meeting another member of his so called team, but at the moment, he didn’t have much choice as to who came in his room; although it would be nice to see a friendly face. “Come in,” he sighed.
“Is this a bad time?”
Tony smiled at the familiar, cultured voice of Ducky. A genuine smile spread across his face as he motioned with his good arm for the congenial physician to join him. “Come on in, Ducky; I just figured that it was someone else.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, my boy,” Ducky apologized. “I can come back later.”
“No!” he exclaimed a bit too quickly. “It’s just been a regular parade of PhD’s through here and I just figured you were another one. Well, actually you are another one, but you’re different. I mean…”
“I know what you mean, Anthony,” the ME assured him.
“I’m glad, Duck. Maybe one day you can explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
Tony shook his head. “You can’t pay attention to anything I say right now, Duck; I just got a dose of pain medicine. Maybe that’s why I can’t remember crap right now.”
The Scotsman laughed as he pulled up another chair beside Tony and patted him on the knee. Tony ignored the gesture and the fact that he couldn’t feel the well-meaning touch of encouragement. “So, how are you, Ducky?” he asked, purposefully changing the subject.
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” the older man replied. “I was supposed to take mother to the doctor but her appointment was changed, so I thought I’d come by and see you.”
“I appreciate that Ducky. I really do.”
“Have you managed to get settled in your new abode?”
“I guess. Gibbs was going to bring me some more of my stuff and a pizza when he comes back; so I ought to be set.”
“Ah, yes. Well, he may be detained for a while; he had some things to take care of.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. I could tell he was kind of bugged about something, but he never would tell me what was bothering him. I uh…have a feeling that something’s going on at work.”
“I’m not sure of the details, but I’m sure that you have nothing to worry about.”
“That’s easier said than done. Not only do I have to learn to live in a wheelchair but I may not even have a job to come back to; I have a feeling that the Director will finally be able to get rid of me.”
Tony knew better than anyone how Jenny Shepherd thought and ever since the Frog had slipped through her fingers, he had lost his usefulness as her personal secret agent. He knew that she had simply been looking for a reason to get rid of him and now, she had the perfect opportunity.
“Jethro will never let that happen,” Ducky pointed out.
“It may be out of his hands anyway. With the exception of Gibbs, no one else has even hinted at the possibility of me being able to return to work at NCIS; we’re just going to have to wait and see.”
Ducky leaned forward and placed his hand on top of Tony’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t lose faith, Tony. Whatever happens, don’t lose faith in Gibbs, but more importantly, don’t lose faith in yourself.”
“I’m trying, Ducky.”
“I know you are. Just remember that I’m here for you if you need me.”
“I appreciate that.”
Tony grinned at the ME. Ducky always seemed to know exactly what he needed to hear; he greatly respected the physician and his words of wisdom. He nodded his silent agreement as Ducky sat back in his chair and made himself comfortable.
“Tell me about all the visitors you’ve had today,” Ducky insisted, his interest genuine.
“Well let’s see,” he began. “First there’s my doctor; his name was Dr. Gibson and he gave me the whole ‘I’m running my own tests to determine the extent of your injury’ spiel. He seems pretty straight forward, which I like. I’d rather know exactly where I stand, no pun intended.”
Ducky failed to see the humor at his meager attempt at a joke prompting Tony continue in order to prevent any further awkwardness. “Then I met the guy who’s going to torture me while I’m here; my physical therapist looks like a retired linebacker from the Redskins. He’s all pumped up to get me started on some kind of exercise regime to build up my upper body and keep my legs from atro…what’s the word?”
“Atrophying?”
Tony nodded. “That’s it. Anyway, he’s a real go get ‘em kind of guy. Kind of like McGee on steroids.”
“Now, that’s a scary thought,” Ducky teased.
“Tell me about it. Anyway, I have a personal dietician who will tell me what I can and can’t eat to keep myself regular; I think her name was Gloria. She was pretty nice but I’m really going to have to hide that pizza Gibbs is bringing me later on.”
“Well, she is right about having to following a stricter diet. Your ability to control certain bodily functions are now impaired and you…”
“Ducky, I really don’t want to hear that lecture again. I’ve heard more about my digestive system in the last two hours than I did in anatomy class at college.” His tone was a bit sharper than he had intended but he still wasn’t ready to accept all the changes that he was going to have to make.
“My apologies, Anthony.”
“I’m sorry, Ducky. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“I think that you are showing a remarkable amount of restraint regarding your emotions. Your being very Gibbs like.”
“I don’t know about that.”
Tony shrugged, momentarily forgetting about his injured shoulder. “Crap. Gotta remember not to do that.”
“Maybe they can give you something else for pain? Something to kind of hold you over between the scheduled doses,” the ME suggested.
“I don’t know. They’re pretty strict. Besides, I’m all right as long as I don’t do any sudden movement.”
“Maybe I should let you rest.”
A sense of panic crept over him at the thought of being alone again. He was becoming convinced that he was losing his mind; one minute he was angry at the world and wanted to be left alone and the next minute, he was scared of being left alone in this place. There would no doubt be a constant bombardment of medical personnel, but right now, he needed a friend. Tony clenched the arm of the chair. “No! I mean, it’s okay; you don’t have to leave.”
“Are you sure?’
He tiredly grinned at the kind, elderly man. “I’m just…I don’t know. I’m surrounded by people but I just don’t want to…”
“I think I understand.” Ducky patted his knee. “Now, you were telling me about Gloria.”
“Actually, I’m pretty much done with Gloria,” Tony recalled. “Have I told you about Gretchen?”
“No, I don’t think you have.”
Tony’s smile reached his eyes. Ducky seemed to understand exactly what he was trying to say without forcing him to admit his weakness. That was one of the things that he admired about the physician; he truly understood what people needed and right now, Tony DiNozzo needed someone to sit and listen to his nonsensical rambling.
“Well Ducky, Gretchen is my nurse and let me tell you, she’s pretty hot…”
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