Don’t Leave Me Hanging
Chapter 5
by WCUGirl
Gibbs kept a steadying hand under Tony’s good elbow while leading him slowly into the house. After falling asleep in the car again, it seemed Tony was down for the count and was barely awake at all as Gibbs led him up the stairs into the house. He paused inside the door long enough to lock it (something he very rarely did) and then considered how he was going to get Tony up the stairs and into his bed.
He gently pulled Tony’s good arm around his shoulders and Tony’s head lolled forward, resting on Gibbs’ shoulder, face tucked in close to Gibbs’ neck. His boy let out a tired moan, and his breathing was even. Tony was very nearly asleep.
“Okay, alright, I gotcha, sok now, c’mon here we go,” Gibbs muttered to himself as he lugged the heavy man toward the stairs. He stopped at the bottom of them and stared at the top. No way. There was no way he’d be able to get Tony up the stairs without hurting him. He turned instead and headed back to the living room. He eased Tony down onto the couch and then headed for the den. He knew the overstuffed couch in the den would pull out into the most comfortable couch-bed he’d ever experienced. Plus the den was also where Tony’s television was located. Since Tony wasn’t able to get up the stairs, the den would be the perfect solution. Tony could rest downstairs here until he felt like moving upstairs later.
Gibbs quickly set up the queen-size couch-bed, ran upstairs and got Tony’s pillows and blankets off of his bed upstairs, grabbed a handful of his movies off the shelf and returned to the den. On the way, he stopped in the living room long enough to sneak a peek at his son. Tony was slumped sideways on the couch"lying down with his feet still on the floor. He looked like he was sleeping soundly. Gibbs knew he needed to get his boy settled in a hurry. He quickly made Tony’s bed in the den and ran back upstairs to get some sweats to help his son change into. Once everything was ready, Gibbs returned to the living room to collect his poor injured boy and put him to bed.
“Tony,” Gibbs said softly. “Tony come on, let’s get you up, we’ve got to walk just a tiny way into the den.”
Tony let out a long mournful groan as his body was moved yet again. Moving around seemed to be what caused him the most pain, and Gibbs gritted his teeth against the pained whimper that escaped his son’s lips, seemingly without his permission, as Gibbs levered him up off the couch. Tony was nearly unable to support his own weight at all by this point and when Gibbs finally got him standing, he leaned forward, resting his weight heavily on Gibbs who accepted the burden without complaint.
“Come on son,” Gibbs said softly. “Let’s get you to bed.” He carefully led his exhausted, injured boy out of the living room and down the short hallway to the den. He helped Tony change and it wasn’t until he eased him back against his pillows, that Tony’s eyes fluttered open, really seeing Gibbs for the first time since they’d been home.
“Dad,” Tony slurred.
“Right here son, take it easy now. Gonna get some sleep, and tomorrow you’ll feel better.”
“Did you really come save me,” Tony whispered softly.
“Of course I did. I knocked you off the plane,” Gibbs said with a weak smile, “least I could do is come fetch you out of the ravine you landed in.”
Tony’s good hand snaked out from under the blanket and grabbed hold of Jethro’s hand. “Thanks,” he whispered, giving the hand a gentle squeeze, before dropping off to sleep, holding onto his dad’s hand.
Jethro carefully raised his boy’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “My boy,” he whispered. “I am so sorry you got hurt again.”
“Don’ ‘pol…gize…” Tony slurred softly, almost whispering. “Signa weakn’s…”
“Go to sleep Tony,” Gibbs said softly, brushing his fingers soothingly through Tony’s hair.
Gibbs sat next to Tony for a long time after he fell asleep, simply watching him and reassuring himself that he was, in fact, mostly ok. Once he was sure Tony was resting and safe, Gibbs eased himself up off of the edge of the couch-bed and headed to the basement.
He’d been hard at work, sanding out his demons for a couple of hours when he heard the strangled moan come from upstairs. He put the sanding block down and moved quickly to the den to check on Tony.
Tony was twisted up in his blankets. He’d managed to turn himself so he was lying on his bad shoulder, face dug deeply into the mattress, and Gibbs wondered at the fact that he’d been able to hear Tony make any noise at all. Tony was fighting something in his sleep, trying to get himself free and he groaned and shifted as his movements brought him pain. Gibbs eased himself down on the edge of the bed where he’d been perched earlier and began the process of waking Tony up.
“Tony,” he called softly, reaching out a hand and placing it gently on Tony’s shoulder blade.
“Nooo,” Tony moaned.
“Tony wake up, it’s a bad dream kiddo, c’mon son wake up,” Gibbs tried again. He was used to Tony’s nightmares"he knew the drill. He rubbed his hand gently up and down Tony’s back, being mindful of the bruised ribs, but wanting to offer any comfort he could to his son, letting him know he was there.
Gibbs watched Tony’s movements carefully. He was kicking his legs (that had to hurt with a fractured ankle) and he was tugging at something invisible at his shoulders. It only took Gibbs a moment to figure out the nightmare"Tony was dreaming about falling out of the plane. He decided it was time to take more drastic measures.
“Wake up Tony,” Gibbs called, a bit louder this time. He rolled Tony over in bed and patted him on the face a couple of times. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to do a concussion check while he was here.
Tony suddenly shot straight up in bed, but immediately curled over on himself. “Owwww,” he whimpered, wrapping his good arm around his ribs as he leaned forward. He took several deep breaths and blinked his eyes open.
What had happened? He didn’t understand it, but one minute he was hanging in the tree where he’d been trapped after being knocked off the plane, the next minute he was in a bed, somewhere, and every inch of his body hurt. He could hear someone speaking through the fog of pain he was in…was it…Gibbs?
“D-dad,” he whispered, barely able to form words"he was in so much pain, he just wanted to die.
“Right here Tony. C’mon lay back. You’re all twisted up, it’s no wonder you’re hurting. Lay back c’mon.”
“Hurtssssssss,” Tony hissed softly.
“The medic at the hangar told me the shot he gave you would last twelve hours,” Gibbs recalled, almost to himself.
“Didn’t,” Tony ground out, fingers clutching the blankets, back almost arching in pain. Gibbs pressed a gentle hand to his son’s forehead. He felt a bit warm, but that could be from the pain, and from being out in the rain for so long. He wouldn’t get sick from this, too, would he?
“Want me to call Ducky?”
“Don’t care…want it to stop hurting,” Tony whispered, rolling his head back and forth on the pillow trying to stay awake. “Don’ leave me,” he added desperately, but it was so quiet Gibbs nearly didn’t hear it.
Gibbs pulled out his cell phone. “Not goin’ anywhere Tony. I’m right here…Duck,” he clipped out, all business in his tone. “Sorry to wake you but it’s Tony. The painkillers the medic gave him wore off too early. He’s in a lot of pain…”
~I’ll be right over Jethro~ came Ducky’s Scottish drawl over the line. For once, Ducky hung up before Gibbs did.
Gibbs turned back to Tony, who was still clutching tightly at the blankets with his good hand. He remembered when Tony’d had his wrist operated on"he hadn’t been able to have any painkillers for a while because there had been the threat on his life…this was too much like that…he needed to do SOMETHING to help his son. Gibbs picked up Tony’s good hand.
“Squeeze it Tony,” he said softly, “Tight as you need to. Ducky’s coming. Just hang on a few more minutes, alright?”
Tony squeezed his dad’s hand tight, and nodded, his eyes closed. If the pattern was any indication, Tony would squeeze and relax on Jethro’s hand as the pain waves rolled over him"it would get very bad, and then would back off a bit. That was how Ducky found them a few minutes later when he used his key to unlock the door. It concerned him that the door was locked in the first place, but it was not uncommon"whenever someone (Tony) was injured, Gibbs had a habit of circling the wagons to protect whoever it was (Tony) until they felt better. That the door was locked indicated to Ducky just how severe the situation was. No one was getting into this house tonight who could hurt Tony Gibbs-DiNozzo.
“My dear boy, what seems to be the trouble,” Ducky asked quietly, setting his medical bag on the bed and opening it. He eyed Tony carefully in the dim light of the den. Tony was pale and sweating; there were deep lines of pain around his eyes and his mouth was twisted into a grimace.
“Everything hurts Ducky,” Tony whispered.
“Alright lad, let me just take a look.”
Ducky was taken aback at the bruises on Tony’s chest and back. His ankle was quite swollen still, despite the walking boot, the pillows piled underneath and the ice pack Gibbs had put on his ankle just before Ducky arrived. Tony’s breathing sounded a bit labored, but Ducky reasoned that could be a combination of both pain from his ribs as well as his earlier exposure to the elements.
Ducky carefully examined his patient without commenting. He knew Gibbs was watching his every move, but he also knew that Gibbs trusted him completely. The fact that he trusted him with his son was very humbling to Ducky. After a gentle, but through examination, Ducky looked up at Gibbs.
“He’s quite alright Jethro, but I’m afraid the painkillers have indeed worn off. I’m going to write him a prescription and give him a shot tonight to get him through until you can get to the pharmacy in the morning.”
Ducky drew the shot without another word and instead of wincing and complaining like Tony would normally do, he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the cool painkiller enter his bloodstream. In a matter of minutes his breathing had calmed down and his eyes were sliding shut.
“Get some sleep Tones,” Gibbs said quietly, leaning over to press a kiss to Tony’s forehead.
“Hey Dad,” Tony said sleepily, fighting the drugs to stay awake long enough to talk to his dad.
“Yeah son,” Gibbs said, looking at his boy with concern.
“’m sorry,” Tony mumbled, starting to lose the battle to stay awake. That statement though, got Gibbs’ attention.
“Sorry for what, Tony?”
“Sorry for thinking you wouldn’t come save me now that you have Kate…know you like her Boss,” Tony whispered.
Ducky drew a sharp breath, but refrained from comment under Gibbs’ stare.
“I will always come for you, Tony, you hear me,” Gibbs said firmly, tapping his son on the top of the head. “You are my son and my agent, and both of those guarantees you will never be left behind. Clear?”
Tony’s eyes rolled back in his head but he managed a slow nod as sleep pulled him under. “Cryst’l B’sss,” he slurred softly, falling asleep instantly.
Gibbs sat with his gaze fixed on Tony for another long moment before finally tearing it away and looking at Ducky.
“I nearly lost him tonight, Ducky,” he said quietly.
“My dear boy, tell me what happened. I know you said Tony was knocked off the plane, but I feel like there is more to the story than you are telling me. What happened up there?”
Gibbs stalked off to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He also put on a kettle of water to boil and got out the tea canister for Ducky. Jethro sat down at one of the stools at the bar and ran a hand over his forehead.
“We were going to force Dafelmair into confessing,” he started quietly, “which we did, and it went off without a hitch…until I said Dafelmair would be able to get a deal from us.”
“What happened Jethro? You appear to be in quite a state over the events of this evening.”
“There was a scuffle once I said that we’d make him a deal. His cronies apparently had decided that Dafelmair didn’t deserve a deal. The perps got into a scuffle and slammed into me. I lost my balance because of the turbulence from the storm and slammed backwards into Tony. Tony…I knocked him out of the plane. He didn’t even have his chute on fully, Ducky,” Gibbs whispered. “Oh God,” he whispered shakily, “Ducky I almost killed my son,” he whispered, a couple of tears escaping to his horror. “If he hadn’t spent all that time this afternoon practicing what to do when you jump out of a plane and when you land…Duck he wouldn’t have known what to do…and I…I fussed at him for screwing around! He was wasting time we could have been using to investigate the perps! I…I just…”
“Hush now Jethro,” Ducky said gently, “pull yourself together man. Anthony is going to be just fine. He’s a little banged up"which for Anthony is nothing new or unusual. He will make a full recovery. I know tonight must have been terrifying, my friend, but you have to keep your head. Tony is alive and he is fine.”
“He blames me,” Gibbs said matter-of-factly, taking a sip from his coffee cup and staring at the counter.
“He’s out of his head in pain right now, Jethro. You can’t really take much of what he says to heart right now. Give him some time to get himself together a bit more and the I suggest that you and he discuss the events together.”
“We’ve worked so hard for so long Duck…we’ve worked so hard to get him to a point where he feels like he can trust me and come to me with anything and then something like this…I don’t blame him if he hates me,” Gibbs said quietly, head bowed low, eyes on his lap.
The two chatted for a while longer, before Ducky went home, satisfied that Jethro had worked through his demons and that Tony would be fine. He had no doubts that as soon as the sun rose Jethro would go to the pharmacy to get the medications that Tony needed. It wouldn’t take long for the boy to make a full recovery.
Before turning in, Gibbs went back to check on Tony one last time. Tony was lying very much in the same position Gibbs and Ducky had left him in an hour before"on his back, injured shoulder/arm resting on a pillow, good arm curled up near his face, injured ankle on several pillows to keep it elevated and a soft duvet covering the whole package. Ducky had confirmed that Tony did not have a concussion, and advised Jethro that in the morning a hot bath with Epsom salts may do his aches and pains a world of good.
Gibbs couldn’t resist sitting down on the bed again, this time near Tony’s foot and just watching his son. That fact still amazed him"after all of this time, all of the times he’d screwed up, this boy, no, this man still called him “dad” and still came to him for advice as well as comfort, reassurance or the occasional headslap. Gibbs watched as Tony stirred, determined not to make any sounds to encourage his boy to wake up when he so desperately needed the rest. Gibbs prided himself that he did not groan when Tony opened his eyes.
Tony did groan.
Gibbs moved up a little closer to keep Tony from moving around too much and stirring his injuries.
“You okay,” he asked quietly, fingers brushing through his boy’s hair.
“Mmh,” Tony grunted softly, eyes sliding shut, still heavily medicated.
“Just sleep Tony. You need the rest; it’ll help you feel better.”
Tony blinked his eyes open. Gibbs raised one eyebrow as Tony looked around the room before finally settling his gaze on the clock on the cable hookup box.
“Time is it?”
“Just after four in the morning. You need sleep.”
“So do you.”
“I don’t need sleep. You know me.”
“I know you say you don’t need sleep…but if you stay up too long then I’ll find you asleep under your boat,” Tony snickered, then broke off when the laughter caused his ribs to catch.
“Easy there, funny man,” Gibbs said softly.
“Dad?”
“Yeah Tony? You need something?”
Tony reached down and grabbed Gibbs’ hand. He squeezed it. “I’m sorry about what I said.”
“It’s forgotten, Tony.”
“No Dad…I mean it…I don’t blame you for knocking me out of the plane…hell if I hadn’t been standing there they would have knocked you out of the plane.”
“You think I wouldn’t give anything to switch places with you right now? To be able to take those hurts and pains away from you? I’d gladly be lying there drugged up right now to have spared you this, Tony. I was so scared…and then I saw your chute open and…God help me I relaxed"I knew you were fine then! And the landing…aww son I’m so sorry you got hurt! I’m sorry it took us so long to get to you and I’m sorry you were alone"”
“Dad?”
Gibbs cut himself off when Tony spoke. His son’s voice was tired and waning quickly. Gibbs knew there was more to this conversation, but he knew they’d settled the hard part.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think…I’ve ever heard you say you’re sorry…that many times,” Tony said slowly, getting sleepy again.
Gibbs raised one eyebrow. “You want me to take it back,” he quipped.
Tony shook his head slightly. “Wish I could have got it on tape though,” he whispered.
“Alright smartass…” Gibbs said jovially, “you just wait til you’re back on your feet and we’ll see what’s what.”
“C’n take you…any day…”
“You haven’t done it yet! Not in fourteen years,” Gibbs snarked.
“Holding…back…old man,” Tony whispered.
“Old?! I’ll show you old, Pipsqueak!”
This time there was no answer. Gibbs glanced down at his son whose eyes had slid fully shut and who was finally resting peacefully on the bed. He slowly raised himself off the couch-bed and turned the lamp down a click to make it even more dim in the room but still give a bit of light.
“Goodnight,” he whispered.
Gibbs marched himself straight up the stairs and put himself to bed. He wouldn’t be caught sleeping under that boat again. He knew he’d never hear the end of it. Besides…he had a feeling that Tony was going to give him a run for his money over the next few days.
It might pay to be well rested.
TBC…
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.