Chapter Text
It was late Friday morning of a long and stressful week. It seemed like every week for months had been long and stressful for Gibbs and his team. They were still trying to regroup since Ziva made her decision not to return to NCIS.
Some were taking her decision harder than others.
Gibbs looked up from his computer at the sound of his Senior Field Agent trying to suppress a cough. He caught Tony’s eye over his monitor and the younger man quickly glanced away. A nasty cold had gone through most of the NCIS staff during the past few weeks. Most everyone had suffered a couple of days and then went on with their lives. With Tony’s less than stellar lung function Gibbs was keeping a close eye on his agent.
A little after 1:00 his growling stomach reminded Gibbs he’d had only coffee for breakfast. He grabbed his gun and badge to head out to get something to eat.
“DiNozzo, I’m going out for food. You want something?”
“Nah Boss, I’m good,” Tony muttered, not bothering to look up.
Not the answer Gibbs wanted to hear but he headed towards the elevator determined to get back to NCIS as quick as possible to keep an eye on Tony.
***********
Gibbs was back in 20 minutes. He dropped a container chicken noodle soup and some packets of crackers on Tony’s desk. His chair was empty and Gibbs looked at McGee.
“Men’s room I think,” he said, answering the unasked question.
“He said anything lately?” Gibbs asked as he sat down at his desk with his sandwich and bottle of iced tea.
“About what?”
“Anything other than work,” Gibbs muttered around a mouthful of ham and cheese.
“No. You worried about him?” Tim asked as he turned his monitor a bit so he could actually see Gibbs.
“Yeah, aren’t you?” Gibbs snorted.
“Yes Boss, of course I am, we all are. Ziva’s leaving hit him harder than anyone could have imagined. I don’t even think he had any idea how hard it was going to be. But you know Tony, he keeps everything inside.”
“Yeah until he doesn’t and then all hell breaks loose.”
“Exactly,” McGee agreed as he saw Tony come back into the bullpen.
Tony sat down at his desk and saw the food. He looked up to see Gibbs give him a little nod. Tony gave a small smile in return and opened up the soup. It smelled good, or he was pretty sure it did, it was hard to tell with his currently diminished sense of smell.
The paperwork on their current case had been finished by late-morning and everyone was doing a little cold case work. Tim spent some time with Abby in the lab and Ducky and Palmer were making good use of the downtime to clean things up in Autopsy.
After lunch Gibbs eventually checked in with Abby and Tim, finding the two of them in the lab talking about their mutual concern for their teammate and friend.
“He won’t even talk to you Abs?” Gibbs asked as he handed the young woman a large Caf-Pow. She just shook her head sadly.
“Quiet Tony is bad enough, sick, quiet Tony, that’s really bad,” Abby sad with a sigh as she took a big gulp of her drink.
“It’s been a long week, I want the two of you out of here by 5:00,” Gibbs said as he kissed Abby’s cheek and patted Tim on the shoulder as he headed for Autopsy.
*******
Gibbs hit the button to let himself into Autopsy.
“Jethro, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?” Ducky said as he turned around on his stool.
“Can’t I just stop by for no reason?”
Ducky just rolled his eyes at Gibbs.
“Has DiNozzo talked to you at all?”
“About what?” Ducky asked, feigning ignorance.
“Anything, anything at all.”
“No, Anthony has talked very little about anything since he got back from Israel. I’ve barely seen him this week come to think of it.”
“Well, that’s probably because he managed to get the cold that’s been going around. I’m sure he doesn’t want to be poked and prodded by his doctor,” Gibs explained as he paced around the room.
“How sick is he, Jethro? Shall I send Mr. Palmer up to the bullpen to drag him down here?”
“It’s a cold. Didn’t even start worrying about him until this morning when he started coughing. I think he’s gone through half a box of tissues today. He did eat some soup but I think that’s about it.”
“I’ll be sure to check on him before I leave today. Have you tried to talk to him?” the ME asked as he wandered into the supply room to grab something.
“Me, talk?” Gibbs snorted. “That’s funny.”
“You know Jethro you could give it the old college try. He may talk to you.”
“Why would he, I haven’t exactly been sympathetic towards him since he came back. I know Ziva’s departure has been hard on him but I don’t know what to say. Communication on a personal level, not my wheelhouse.”
“That’s an understatement,” Ducky muttered.
“You’re not helping Duck,” Gibbs all but growled.
“He needs to see you care.”
“He knows I care,” Gibbs said sharply.
“Exactly, deep down of course he knows you care, but he needs to see it for himself, here and now.”
“I don’t know how to do that without coming across as awkward,” Gibbs admitted as he ran a hand over his face.
“For heaven’s sake Jethro, the boy loves you dearly. You’ll think of something. Now go back up there, make up some excuse and send him down so I can check him out.”
“That I can do. Thanks Ducky,” he called over his shoulder. Ducky just shook his head as the doors slid closed. He grabbed his medical bag out from the drawer and set it on his desk before turning back to the report he’d been working on when Gibbs arrived.
******
Gibbs went back up to the bullpen. McGee was back at his desk and Tony was missing.
“Making tea,” McGee answered, before Gibbs could even ask.
“Thanks Tim,” he said as he sat back down at his desk. He checked his voicemail and email, waiting for Tony to return.
A few minutes later Tony came back to his desk, carefully setting his mug down before he dropped down into his chair with a sigh. He opened a folder and picked up his pen. The words were swimming on the page so he wasn’t getting very far. He took a few sips of the tea trying to ignore the fact that his boss was watching him. He knew why Gibbs was keeping an eye on him, he’d gotten a good glance at himself in the bathroom mirror a few minutes earlier. A few stifled coughs later and he looked up to see his boss standing in front of him.
“Need something Boss?” he asked as he tossed down his pen and pushed the folder aside.
“Yeah, can you run this down to Ducky?” he asked as he handed Tony a manila envelope.
“Sure,” Tony replied as he took the envelope with the distinct feeling he was being set up. When he got to the elevator his feeling was confirmed as he opened the envelope up to find a few blank sheets of paper. He couldn’t really be too annoyed, he’d considered a trip down to Autopsy to have Ducky check him out a few times during the day. He loosened his tie a little and wiped his nose with a tissue he pulled out of his jacket pocket.
As he hit the button to open the doors to Autopsy he took a deep breath, resulting in a coughing fit.
“Hello my dear Anthony,” Ducky called from his desk without bothering to turn around.
“Hey Duck,” he said as he dropped the envelope on the ME’s desk.
“What’s this?” Ducky asked, trying to look innocent.
“Gibbs’ excuse for sending me down here,” Tony snorted as he hopped up to sit on one of the autopsy tables.
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Ducky said over his shoulder. “Let me just finish up this report before I lose my train of thought.”
“Take your time,” Tony muttered as he slipped off his suit jacket and folded it up a bit. He carefully laid down on the stainless steel table, shoving the jacket under his head.
“This wouldn’t be so bad with some padding,” he muttered as he slipped his tie off.
Ducky just chuckled as he typed away. While he was actually finishing up a report, he was also stalling to see if Tony would start talking.
A few minutes later it was clear that he wasn’t going to start talking without a strong suggestion from the ME.
“Alright Anthony, we’ll worry about checking you out physically in a bit. How about a little chat? Would you care for some tea?” Ducky offered.
“No thanks, just had some,” Tony said.
“Very well, but you’re still going to talk,” Ducky announced as he scooted the stool a little closer to Tony who was still stretched out on the autopsy table, apparently making himself comfortable.
“About what?” he asked as he rubbed at his eyes a bit.
“Whatever you’d like. But let’s make it something meaningful,” Ducky muttered as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Tony snorted a little as he turned his head to glance at Ducky. “So I assume Gibbs is worried about me, that’s why he sent me down here for a bogus errand.”
“Jethro is just one in a long line of people who are worried about you Anthony,” Ducky said simply.
“I know. But if I can’t even understand what’s wrong myself, how can I explain to it anyone else?”
“You don’t. When you have your starting point, you try to figure out what’s wrong. I assume all this has something to do with Ziva leaving?” Ducky asked quietly.
“Of course it does. I just don’t know how to feel about it, what I should feel about it, if I even have a right to feel any way about it,” Tony muttered as he put one hand behind his head and covered his eyes with the other.
“You are entitled to feel as you please about the whole situation,” Ducky said gently as he stood up and walked over to turn off the overhead lights. Tony put his other hand behind his head, thankful for the darkened room. “What you are choosing to do with those feelings it what’s is concerning me. You can’t keep everything inside. You need to talk, to me, to your teammates, to Gibbs or to a professional, it’s up to you.” Ducky stopped there and took a glance at Tony who was still staring at the ceiling, so the older man continued on. “So you’re not dealing well with the whole idea of Ziva leaving, that’s understandable. But what’s the real reason? You were teammates, friends…”
“You kind of trailed off there, Ducky,” Tony snorted as he sat up slowly, trying to preserve what little sense of equilibrium he had. He swung his legs over the side, braced his hands on the edge of the table and dropped his head down a little.
“You can ask, Ducky,” he whispered, kicking his feet out in front of him.
“Was there something more Anthony? Did you two break one of Gibbs’ rules?”
“I guess not technically, she’d already made her decision not to return. The night before I flew back home, we, you know. Apparently it meant more to me than it meant to her. I know, kind of ironic, given my history with women. Haven’t really talked to her since. I just feel like I can’t get my act together. I feel like I’m going through the motions. I come to work, do my job and go home. Nothing makes me happy right now. I want more for my life, not necessarily a relationship right now. I think I need a break from that. I just need a purpose.”
“What about getting out and meeting new people? Join a club, find a new hobby. You need to expand your horizons beyond the Navy Yard.”
“I agree,” he said as he tried to stifle a sneeze. Ducky handed him a tissue. “I just don’t know how to do that.”
“You’ll think of something. But until then, you can always come to me, you know that,” Ducky said simply as he stood up and patted Tony’s shoulder before leaning against the autopsy table next to him.
“Thanks,” Tony replied as he ran a hand over his face.
“Okay Anthony, let’s check you out,” Ducky announced as he went to turn the lights back on and wash his hands. He grabbed his medical bag and set it on the table next to Tony.
“Let us start with your temperature,” Ducky announced as he opened his bag.
“No problem, as long as you’re not using the liver probe,” Tony teased nervously.
“I think this will do,” Ducky said as he held up the digital thermometer. “Under your tongue and take off your shirt.”
Tony wisely just did as he was told. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders, shivering in the cool room. The thermometer beeped and he handed it to Ducky.
“100.9,” the ME said with a frown. “Okay, you my boy are too tall, come sit on the stool,” Ducky said with a grin. Tony slid off the table at sat down on the stool which had been pushed in his direction. A quick check of Tony’s blood pressure and pulse did nothing to make Ducky feel like it was just a little cold. Ducky pulled the stethoscope out of the bag next and took a quick listen to Tony’s heart before taking his time with his lungs. He clucked his tongue a few times as he listened, that did not make Tony feel optimistic that he’d be on his way home any time soon. Ducky said nothing as he reached for the otoscope. Ducky took a quick look in Tony’s ears and throat before setting everything down. He pressed his fingers gently against Tony’s neck checking for swollen glands.
“Ducky could you say something. Your tongue clucking is freaking me out,” Tony teased as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to get warm.
“Put this back on,” Ducky said holding up Tony’s white dress shirt. He slipped it back on and buttoned it quickly, not bothering to stand up and tuck it in.
Ducky got him a bottle of water and 2 Advil. “Here, take these for starters,” he said as he pulled the other stool from across the room and sat down in front of Tony.
“Let’s hear it Doc,” Tony muttered as he tried to suppress another cough. “I’d like to get out of here and go home soon.
Ducky just gave him a little glare which did not bode well for Tony’s current plan.
“Alright my young friend, you’re running a fever of almost 101, ears look fine, throat’s a little red and swollen. You can imagine what concerns me most,” Ducky said as he poked Tony gently in the chest.
“What are my crappy lungs for $800 Alex?” Tony snorted.
“Precisely. You’re a little wheezy and obviously fairly congested. Using the Advair?”
“As directed,” Tony replied honestly.
“How do you really feel?” Ducky asked, hoping to get a little honesty out of the younger man.
“Chest is pretty tight, like I’m working too hard to breathe. Massive headache and a bit dizzy. In general feeling pretty crappy right now,” Tony sighed as he reached for a tissue.
“Thank you for being honest Anthony. I’d prefer to get your pulse ox but as the vast majority of my patients have no pulse ox level whatsoever, I do not have the proper equipment here,” Ducky teased. “I’m sure food is not very appealing to you right now but you need to stay hydrated or you’re going to get yourself in big trouble. My suggestion is Prednisone and an albuterol inhaler to try to open things up a bit, make you more comfortable. And obviously the Advil to bring down your fever.”
“You know I’ll agree to whatever you say, Ducky,” Tony said with a small smile as he stood up quickly. That proved to be a bad idea and Ducky reached out to steady him.
“Not so fast my boy,” Ducky said.
“I’m okay,” Tony said as he shook off the older man’s grasp. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered as he hitched his thumb in the direction of the rest room. “You can call Gibbs and give him an update,” he called over his shoulder as he heard the hiss of the doors sliding open.
“Thanks, DiNozzo,” Gibbs called with a laugh.
“How is he, Doc?” Gibbs asked as he leaned against the nearest stainless steel table.
“Not good. I’m afraid he’s in for a long night, physically and emotionally,” Ducky said with a sigh as he took a seat on his stool and jotted down Tony’s vitals and some other notes on the pad on his desk.
“Give me the physical stuff, I’m better at that,” Gibbs muttered.
“You can say that again, Jethro,” Ducky muttered. Gibbs rolled his eyes and motioned for the older man to start talking.
“He’s running a fever of almost 101, “massive headache”, in his words. Pulmonary function is of course my main concern at the moment. He’s congested and wheezy. Going to give him an additional inhaler and some steroids. We didn’t even touch the topic of pain medication.”
“You know how well that conversation would go,” Gibbs snorted as Tony came back from the bathroom.
“And what conversation would that be?” Tony asked, giving his boss a little glare.
“Ask him,” Gibbs said, pointing to the ME, effectively removing himself from harm’s way.
“Pain medication, Anthony,” Ducky said simply.
“Not going to happen,” Tony said as he shook his head. A move he regretting instantly. He reached out his hand to grab onto the edge of the table. Gibbs grabbed him by his elbow as Ducky stood up and shoved the stool in the direction of the younger man.
“Sit,” Gibbs all but barked. Tony wisely did as he was told. “So pain medication Ducky, what do you propose?”
“Nothing drastic just some cough syrup with Codeine,” he explained. “I doubt you’ll get much sleep otherwise.”
“But,” Tony said as he put up a hand in protest.
“Shut up,” Gibbs said. “Please,” he added tempering his tone a little.
“I’ll fill the script but I’m not making any promises,” Tony agreed. “So hyped up on pain meds and steroids, good thing I’ll be home alone, wouldn’t want to subject anybody to anything I might say or do under the influence,” he muttered as he rubbed at his eyes. When he pulled his hand away he found two sets of eyes starting back at him.
“Oh my dear Anthony, the fact that you think you’ll be spending the weekend alone really is quite adorable,” Ducky smirked.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Tony whined, much like a sick 4 year old.
“DiNozzo, go upstairs and pack your stuff. You’re coming home with me,” Gibbs announced in a tone that left no room for arguing.
“I don’t even have the energy to argue,” Tony admitted as he let Ducky pull him to his feet. “But we’re stopping at my place so I can pick up some stuff. I can’t spend the weekend watching the 4 channels that come in clearly on your television.”
“Not a problem,” Gibbs called to the back of Tony’s head as he hit the button for the doors.
“The fact that he didn’t fight going with you is rather concerning,” Ducky said. Gibbs nodded in agreement. “Okay, I’ll call in the scripts, you can pick them up on the way home. I’m not too concerned about food but he needs to drink or we will be adding dehydration to the list of problems. Gatorade would be best but anything he can drink is fine. While he needs rest he also needs to move around a bit so things don’t settle in his lungs more than they already have. Couple laps around the house every few hours is fine. Keep an eye on his fever, call me for anything over 101.5. He just took Advil, he can take it every 6 hours. Goes without saying, see if you can get the Codeine in him, even if it’s only to sleep tonight. I have dinner plans but you can call me at any hour, you know that. I’ll stop by in the morning. Any questions?”
“Yeah, we’ve covered the physical stuff, what else is going on?”
“Doctor/patient confidentiality,” Ducky said with a smirk. Gibbs gave the older man an ineffective glare. “It’s going to be a long weekend Jethro, you’ll have plenty of time to talk to him.”
“Yeah, neither of us is all that great at communicating,” Gibbs muttered.
“Understatement of the year,” Ducky agreed with a laugh.
“Seriously, thanks for looking out for him. I know he’s struggling since Ziva left,” Gibbs said quietly, his affection for his Senior Field Agent coming through in his tone.
“You are correct, Jethro. Now let me find Mr. Palmer so we can finish up in here, I would like to make my dinner reservation. I’ll check in later. You take good care of our boy.”
“Roger that,” Gibbs answered as he hit the button for the door.
*************
By the time Gibbs made back up to the bullpen Tony was asleep leaning over his desk, head on his folded arms.
“He actually tried to stay awake,” Tim explained with a smile.
“I’m sure he did,” Gibbs said as he sat back down at his desk to finish a few things and pack up for the weekend. When his bag was packed up he went over to wake Tony.
Instead of the head slap which was usually delivered to wake him up when he was sleeping at his desk Gibbs patted the back of his head and gently shook his shoulder.
“What, I’m awake boss,” Tony muttered, jolting himself upright.
Gibbs just raised his eyebrows as he held out a hand to pull Tony to his feet. Both grabbed their backpacks and they headed for the elevator.
“Tim, get Abby and you two head out too. Have a nice weekend.”
“Thanks Boss,” Tim yelled, already grabbing his backpack. “Feel better, Tony,” he called as the elevator doors slid closed.