Gibbs sat in the interrogation room, coffee in hand, waiting for the IA team to interview him. This was not his first time being interviewed by Internal Affairs, but he had never been the focus of an investigation. Glancing at his watch, he mentally calculated that he had about five minutes before his scheduled interview; five minutes until he was forced to relieve the fateful moment when had destroyed DiNozzo’s life.
Anthony DiNozzo was the closest thing that he would ever have to a son; a father wasn’t supposed to hurt his child, but he had done just that. How could he have been so careless? What was he thinking? How could he put the welfare of a stranger before that of his own son? He probably would never have the answer to those questions, but he would be plagued by those thoughts for years to come.
The door opened and two well dressed men entered. One was in his mid fifties, his receding hair line making him appear older than his actual years. The second man was younger by a couple of decades, but Gibbs could tell by the way he carried himself that the young man thought he had something to prove.
The older man sat down across from him. “Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs?”
“That would be me,” he replied.
“I’m Inspector Jerry Carlson and this is my associate Mark Landry. We’ve been assigned to look into the shooting of Agent Anthony DiNozzo.”
Gibbs merely nodded his understanding as he waited for Carlson to proceed. He knew what he was going to say and he was fully prepared to face the consequences. Whatever punishment was decided would be nothing compared to the guilt he would feel every time he saw Tony in a wheelchair.
“Agent DiNozzo is currently your senior field agent,” Carlson began. “Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“How would you rate his job performance?”
“He’s the best there is.”
“How long have you worked together?”
Gibbs blew out a frustrated breath. “Close to seven years.”
“That’s a long time,” the inspector observed. “So, I take it you have a good working relationship.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think Agent DiNozzo would agree with you?”
“You’ll just have to ask Agent DiNozzo, won’t you?” he sharply retorted.
“I’m asking you.”
How was he supposed to answer that question? Ducky had told him more than once that he and Tony were more alike than different. They complimented each other, always seemingly knowing what the other one was thinking. But that had been before he had shot his own agent.
“Agent Gibbs, you need to answer Inspector Carlson’s question,” Landry insisted.
He glared at the younger man; his icy stare silently informing the young investigator that he was not going to be so easily intimidated. “I would think that Agent DiNozzo would agree,” Gibbs stated.
“If you have such a good relationship, then why is he lying in a hospital bed, Agent Gibbs?”
“Tony’s lying in a hospital bed because he was wounded apprehending two men who had kidnapped a young girl.”
“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Carlson suggested, obviously trying to ease the tension between him and Landry.
“It’s in my report.”
“I’ve read the report and now I want you to tell me what happened.”
Gibbs clenched his jaw; his personal opinion of IA investigators slipping yet another notch. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to get back to the hospital, he would show them that he could play mind games with the best of them.
He began to recall in detail what happened from the time that they received a hit on the bolo up until the time Tony was wounded. He spoke of how the two suspects opened fire on them and how DiNozzo managed to take down the first one. Pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, he wanted to get every detail right, leaving nothing to interpretation.
“Agent Gibbs?” Landry called to him. “Please continue.”
Clenching his fist, he struggled against the urge to slug the pompous bastard leaning over him. Mark Landry was trying to play the bad cop of the infamous good cop, bad cop routine, and in his opinion, he wasn’t doing so well. It was a poor choice of tactics to use on someone as experienced as him. Ignoring the younger man, he met Carlson’s patient gaze and prepared to continue to give his statement.
“Agent DiNozzo was shot in the shoulder and grazed in the side,” the inspector clarified.
“Yes. I saw him go down. The other suspect was firing on me and he finally ran out of ammunition. At that point, I ordered him to surrender and he refused.”
“And then what?”
“By that time, he had replaced his clip and was preparing to fire again. I raised my weapon to return fire and somehow, Tony had gotten to his feet and…stumbled into my line of fire.”
“You didn’t see Agent DiNozzo get up?”
“No.”
“Why do you think Agent DiNozzo got up?”
“I can’t say for sure.”
“Speculation, then?”
“I think he was still trying to do his job.”
“Which was?”
“To apprehend the kidnappers and save Sarah Carpenter’s life.”
“Do you think he was aware of your presence?”
“I don’t know. He was losing a lot of blood; he could have possibly been disoriented.”
Carlson wrote something down on a piece of paper and slid it over to Landry. Gibbs noticed that the young man did not look happy; a frustrated expression clouding his youthful features. Landry hastily left the room, slamming the door behind him.
“Your partner’s got a big chip on his shoulder,” Gibbs stated.
“Yep. Every once in a while, I’ve got to take him down a notch or two. I sent him for coffee.”
Gibbs laughed. “That’ll do it every time.”
“Sounds like you’ve had experience in this area.”
“A little.”
“So, now that junior’s gone, let’s get this over with.”
“Couldn’t agree more. I’ve got better things to do.”
Carlson put his pen down and leaned back in his chair. “You know, I’m quite a bit more relaxed than Mark, but I do take my job very seriously. I expect you to take this interview seriously as well.”
“Believe me, I do,” he assured the other man. “What happened shouldn’t have happened and I accept full responsibility.”
“Trying to be a martyr?” Carlson challenged.
“No, just being realistic.”
The inspector simply nodded. “After you shot Agent DiNozzo, what happened?”
“I shot the perp and went and checked on Sarah Carpenter. After making sure that she was all right, I gave her my phone and instructed her to call 911. I then went and took care of Tony until the paramedics arrived. Officer David and McGee came along a short while later and began to process the scene and I rode to the hospital with Tony.”
“Was Agent DiNozzo your only backup? Where were Agent McGee and Officer David?”
“When we got the bolo, DiNozzo notified McGee and Ziva and told them that we were in pursuit. I knew that they wouldn’t be far behind, especially with Ziva driving.”
“Based upon the severity of Agent DiNozzo’s injury, I can only assume that he wasn’t wearing a vest. Were you?”
Gibbs shook his head. “Neither of us was wearing one.”
“Why not?” Carlson wanted to know.
“Agent DiNozzo wanted to take the time, but I didn’t. He was following my lead.”
“And by doing so, he ended up with three bullets in him. Maybe following your lead wasn’t such a good idea.”
“You’re right. I screwed the pooch and now Tony’s paying the price. Is that what you want to here?” the team leader growled. “I wanted to find Sarah Carpenter and I was willing to do whatever it took to get her back.”
Carlson closed the file that was lying on the table. “This was a personal case for you, wasn’t it? The kidnappers wanted to get even with you, so let me ask you this, Agent Gibbs. Once you discovered the identity of the two kidnappers, why didn’t you hand this case off to another team?”
“It was my fight.”
“Your fight? Aren’t you familiar with the old adage, there is no ‘I’ in team?”
“I’m quite familiar with it. My team is the best there is; they would literally follow me into hell and they have several times. I tried not to involve them, but it didn’t work out that way,” he recalled.
“Would you say that your desire to take matters into your own hands clouded your judgment?” Carlson pressed.
“I don’t know.” He thought for a moment, recalling the conversation that he had Tony had just before the shooting. Tony had questioned his motives and Gibbs had become defensive, knowing deep down that DiNozzo had been right.
“Let me ask it this way; would your team say that your judgment was affected by the personal nature of this case?”
Gibbs studied his calloused hands. These were the same hands that pulled the trigger, destroying his son’s life in a fraction of a second. He balled up his fists, sighing in frustration. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask them,” he finally answered.
“I will be doing just that,” Carlson assured him. “If their statements back up what you’ve told me this afternoon, then your career as an NCIS agent could be in serious trouble.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“I will be in contact with you very soon, Agent Gibbs. You’re free to go.”
Gibbs rose from his seat and headed to the door. He pulled out his cell so he could check on Tony; hopefully DiNozzo was still asleep and he could be back at the hospital before Tony woke up. “Agent Gibbs?” Carlson called out to him.
Turning on his heels, he snapped his phone shut and impatiently waited for the inspector to catch up to him. “What is it?”
“I’m sure that you’re worried about your agent, but until we can get Agent DiNozzo’s statement, you are not permitted to see him.”
“I’m listed as his next of kin,” Gibbs angrily pointed out. “I’ve already agreed to having babysitters in the room every time I see him.”
“Not this time.”
“Why not?”
“It’s the rules.”
“I have my own set of rules, Inspector Carlson, and one of them includes not standing on the sidelines when one of my team is in trouble.” Actually, that one had been Tony’s, but he had claimed it for his own.
“Don’t force me to get a restraining order,” Carlson warned. “We’re doing this by the book.”
“Guess I’m a slow reader. I haven’t gotten to that chapter yet.”
“Gibbs! I’m serious.”
“So am I!” he snapped. “It’s bad enough that he’s paralyzed because of me, but I will not let him go through this alone!”
“I understand that. All I’m asking you to do is to wait until we interview him. We’ll do it as soon as his doctor gives the okay.”
Gibbs began to walk away, ignoring the continued protests of the Inspector. He figured that the man was already on the phone making the necessary calls to make sure that he didn’t get in to see Tony. He didn’t care about rules; the only thing that mattered to him was making sure that DiNozzo was all right. As long as Tony needed him or wanted him around, he would be there for him, despite what anyone else had to say.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Tony opened his eyes, struggling to bring the dimly lit room into focus. He wasn’t sure what had awakened him from his slumber; it could have been a number of things. It could have been the dull ache in his shoulder or it could have been the fact that he wanted to wake up and discover that this whole ordeal had actually been a bad dream, or it could have been the fact that someone was sitting beside him snoring very loudly. He tiredly smiled as he recognized the familiar sound. Ziva.
He thought he had heard her voice earlier, but it had been difficult to discern if she had been real or a dream. She had told him that being paralyzed didn’t change who he was, but she was wrong. It would change him. Tony had always prided himself on his independence. Truthfully, he had been on his own since he was twelve, so he had learned at an early age how to take care of himself. Now, he was going to have to rely on others for help and that was something that did not come easy for him.
He supposed he could just keep telling himself that this was all a bad dream; maybe one day, he would even believe it. There was only one way to tell.
With his good hand, he placed it on his right leg. Nothing. He scratched the top of his leg and still felt nothing. The words of Gibbs and the doctor came rushing back to him as they told him about the paralysis and how it was permanent.
“No,” Tony whispered. “It can’t be true.”
The lack of sensation only encouraged him to scratch even harder. At the moment, he didn’t even care if he drew blood; he just wanted to be able to feel something. After a few more attempts, Tony finally gave up and pulled his hand from underneath the sheet. He blew out a frustrated breath.
“God, this can’t be happening,” he muttered.
“Tony?”
He glanced over to see Ziva rising from her chair to stand over him. “Tony? Are you all right?”
Tony attempted to muster his infamous grin for his partner. “I’m fine,” he lied. “I still see you haven’t seen anyone…about your snoring problem.”
“I could say the same thing about you,” she playfully countered. “Now, back to my original question. Are you all right?”
Tony looked away, knowing that he couldn’t look in her eyes and lie to her again. “Shoulder hurts a little,” he admitted.
“I will tell the nurse.”
He grabbed onto her wrist, wincing as he instantly regretted the sudden move. “No. Not yet,” Tony pleaded. “It’s not that bad. I’m not ready…to go back to sleep.”
“You need your rest,” Ziva reminded him.
“Please?” He stared at Ziva with puppy dog eyes, hoping to melt that tough exterior that covered her warm heart.
“Do not look at me like that,” she warned. “It is bad enough that you are lying in a hospital bed, helpless, but looking at me like that will. Ziva stopped, realizing what she had said. “Oh God, Tony. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant…”
“It’s all right, Ziva,” Tony assured her. “I know what you meant.”
“I have never seen you as helpless and I do not believe you are helpless now.”
“Ziva, it’s okay. Slip of the tongue; happens to me…all the time. Please, just forget it.”
“Only if you say you forgive me.”
“Fine. I forgive you.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Do you really?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She took his hand and gently squeezed it. “Everything will be all right.”
“Sure,” Tony sighed.
“It will, Tony. We are all going to help you through this,” she vowed.
“I know.”
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the team would rally around him in an effort to help him adjust to his new life in a wheelchair. Ducky and Palmer would make sure that his health was carefully monitored, Abby would be his cheerleader, McGee and Ziva would be anything he needed them to be, and Gibbs would probably remodel his whole apartment making sure that everything was handicap accessible. Hopefully, the team leader wouldn’t have the urge to build a boat in his living room.
“Tony?” Ziva called to him, interrupting his thoughts.
“Huh?”
He noticed that she was now examining his fingers on his right hand. “You have some blood on your fingertips and it looks like bits of skin under your nails.”
Tony jerked his hand free. “I probably scratched myself in my sleep,” he reasoned.
Leaning over him, she examined the areas around his bandaged shoulder and side. “I do not see any nail marks. Care to try again?”
“Not really.”
Ziva started to pull back the sheet that covered the lower half of his now useless body. “What are you doing?” he growled.
“I’ve already seen everything you have or have you forgotten?”
Tony could feel his cheeks flush slightly. How could he forget? He would never forget the softness of her skin as he held her or the passionate hunger of her kisses. They had been undercover as married assassins, but there had been times during that operation, the lust had been real, at least on his part.
He heard her gasp when she saw the scratch marks on his right leg. “Tony? Why?” she demanded to know.
He closed his eyes, a sense of shame consuming him. “I just wanted it…to be…a dream. I thought maybe Gibbs and the doc…were wrong. Should have known better. Gibbs is never… wrong.”
Ziva went over to the sink and wet a wash cloth with warm, soapy water. As she began to clean the wound, Tony found himself hoping that he could feel her touch. He was forced to tamp down a scream when he realized that he could still feel nothing.
She then picked his hand up and washed the dried blood off his fingers. “I don’t think it needs a bandage,” she announced.
Tony nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Do you need anything else?”
“I’d like to sit up a little. I’ve never liked lying on my back, unless I’m…well you know,”
Ziva smiled as she covered him back up and tucked him in. “I’ll ask the nurse. They don’t want you moving around too much.”
“Well, tell them that if I don’t get a different view soon, that I’m leaving a complaint with the manager,” he teased.
“I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
“Yeah, well.” He couldn’t afford to lose his humor; he was going to need it to get through the challenges that lay ahead. “Um, listen…you’re not going to tell Gibbs about me scratching my leg, are you?” he nervously asked.
“I…”
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t put you in that position.”
“Tony…”
“So, where is Gibbs?”
“He is being interviewed by Internal Affairs.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can,” she promised. “Nothing will keep him from your side.”
“I just hope he doesn’t have to pay from my screw up,” Tony mused.
“You did not screw up, Tony.”
“You know, Ziva,” he said. “I think I’m ready for that pain medicine now. Do you mind getting the nurse?”
Ziva nodded. “All right. I’ll be right back.”
Tony watched Ziva leave the room. No matter what anyone said, he knew he had messed up; he should have done something to stop Gibbs from heading down that familiar path of self destruction. Tony had followed him on this very same path several times and he should have drawn the line this last time. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t be lying in the hospital, wondering how the hell he was going to weather this latest storm.
Chapter End Notes:
In time for the weekend! Stay warm and enjoy!