Last chapter everyone...

Chapter 9—Good trade.

Gibbs had called for Tony. That thought thrust Tony out of the car.

Tony's purposeful stride faltered as he reached Gibbs' room. He had walked right through Pike's men—weapon blazing, no problem, but Tony found himself paralyzed at the threshold of room 3-14. Through the window he saw the doctor hovering over Gibbs on the far side of the bed, heard the soft rumblings of his soothing voice. Truth be told, Ducky looked rumpled, old, and tired. Tony felt a pang of guilt.

Not only was Ducky hurting, but Tony had run and left him alone. Not because the team needed him. Because he had been afraid.

As Tony watched, Gibbs began to thrash again. Then he heard it. Short and anguished, a clipped sob…'Tony…' That one word tore him. In a fraction of a second, Tony's emotions were laid bare—raw. Every defence he'd built up was knocked away with that one word. He had never heard Gibbs cry. Even when Kate was killed, he'd been silent and hard. To hear a sob from Gibbs was like watching a newborn reveal a set of sharp teeth. It was wrong. A horror. An involuntary sob choked its way out of Tony in response.

Ducky's head snapped up. Their eyes connected through the window and before he had time for a conscious thought, Tony was in the room and the door was softly closing behind him.

He swallowed hard 'Boss.'

Although Ducky spoke to Gibbs, his eyes were on Tony 'Jethro, Anthony is here.'

Tony found himself pulled both towards the door and towards the bed. He wanted nothing so much as to be anywhere else, away from this soul crushing angst. He also wanted, needed, to be with Gibbs—how did he ever leave this room in the first place? As Gibbs jerked once, Tony's mind was made up. In one step he was at the bed and had his hand of Gibbs arm. 'Boss? Gibbs? It's me. Dinozzo. Tony. I'm right here.'

For the next while the two men stood watch while Gibbs fought his invisible demons. Ducky explained that there had been little change and gave Tony some information—in uncharacteristically straight forward terms. His face and voice conveyed exhaustion.

Tony tried to take it all in. Gibbs was agitated. What ever he was suffering inside was keeping his blood pressure dangerously high, the stroke continue to bleed. They couldn't sedate him any further. Too dangerous. Couldn't operate on the bleed. Too dangerous. Couldn't bring the pressure down with medication. Too dangerous. 'What do we do then Duck?!' Tony demanded in frustration.

'Wait. We can simply wait and be here Anthony.'

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, unable.

'Anthony…' Ducky slowly and clearly stated, 'the blame for Gibbs' condition lies squarely upon the shoulders of those who put you two in that room. You must know that.'

Tony nodded weakly, unconvinced.

'I am going to get a cup of tea Tony. Can I bring you something?' Tony shook his head.

Tony sat in the quite for a moment but his mind haunted him with images of the horror in Gibbs' eyes after he'd hit Tony, of the dull noise Gibbs head had made as it connected with the wall, his mind replayed the haunting sob Tony'd heard earlier. He jerked himself out of his head. 'Come on Gibbs, open your eyes. Ducky's dead on his feet, he needs you…we all do. I need you to come back, k?' Nothing.

For the rest of the evening and into the night Tony sat with Gibbs, he talked about work, life, the movies. On and on Tony droned, one hand always on Gibbs arm. He didn't pull away when Gibbs jerked or moaned. Didn't flee when Gibbs cried out. He held on tighter and spoke as soothingly as he could. Hours earlier Dr. Mallard's body had finally given in and he half-sat slumped, dozing in a chair.

As Ducky woke, neck cricked, he took a moment to observe the two men. Tony prattled on, hand on his boss. He'd undone one of the restraints in the night and his thumb brushed round and round over the spot where the mark was beginning to fade. Although they thought themselves so different from each other, nothing could be further from the truth. If the situation were reversed the only difference Duck could imagine would be which one was in the bed and which in the chair. 'So like a parent and child' he thought. 'No matter what happens' Ducky thought, 'it has been a blessing for these two to come together.' Tony, fatherless, and Gibbs, childless.

Although he hadn't said it to Tony, Ducky had a fairly good idea of what Gibbs had been torturing his scorched mind with, knew what Gibbs' mind would have thrust forward from the depths of his darkest fears. Ducky knew only one memory that had the power to cause Jethro the pain he'd seen these past two days. Kelly. This time it was different and Ducky had been shaken but not surprise when Gibbs had called out for Tony.

'Anthony.'

'Oh, hey Duck.'

When he sat up and looked at Tony straight on, Ducky's heart pulled for the boy. His jaw was a mottled black and blue, clothes and hair rumpled, his eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked absolutely exhausted. 'Anthony. You need to rest…'

'Nope, I'm good Duck; and don't try and send me home.'

'I wouldn't dream of it Anthony. If anything, I'd say Jethro seems to be resting more comfortably with you here.'

A small grateful smile graced Tony face 'I sort of thought so too.'

'Go for coffee Tony, the nurse is going to want to come in momentarily anyways.'

When Tony returned to 3-14 he was still bedraggled but at least he was caffeinated. Tony saw Ducky, a nurse and Gibbs' doctor talking around the bed. For a moment, the urge to flee gnawed him again.

'Anthony!' Ducky called, he didn't look upset. Tony hesitantly entered.

'Gibbs blood pressure has finally come down. Nearly normal, which is as good as it ever gets for our esteemed leader.' Tony was tired and his mind wasn't really computing, but Ducky was smiling.

'That's good then, right?'

The other doctor spoke. 'I'd say so. It's too early to talk about what kind of permanent damage Agent Gibbs might be facing, but the bleed seems to have stopped. Barring relapse, I'd guess he should start coming around in the next few hours.'

'Thank God' Tony breathed, melting into his chair. He hadn't even realized that he'd been holding his breath, whole body tensed as the doctor spoke.

The doctors talked quietly for another moment and then it was just Ducky and Tony again. Tony looked up and blinked. 'Where are the others?' he suddenly wondered aloud.

'I'd asked them not to come.' Seeing Tony's confusion, Ducky continued. 'Jethro was only allowed one visitor and I was quite certain that he needed you here Anthony. I've been calling the others with updates.'

Tony seemed to think about what Ducky had said for a moment then let it go.

'Anthony…' Ducky started gently 'Jethro still has a lot to overcome. Although I would gladly wager on his working like a demon to come back to us, there may be some lasting impairments…' Ducky glanced to Tony, trying to judge how he was taking the news.

'No problem Duck. We'll be here.'

Ducky smiled fondly 'Quite right Anthony!'

Later in the day both Ducky and Tony were drooped limply over their respective chairs, napping. Neither noticed as Gibbs eyes cracked open.

What the hell? Gibbs hadn't a clue where he was or how he'd gotten there. Given the size and location of the stroke, he was waking into a world of distorted visual perceptions, up was down, near are far were one, shapes ran together. As he slammed his eyes again, swallowing back nausea, he remembered.

Tony. Oh no. No. Oh God, he'd hurt Tony.

Worse.

He was almost dragged under again—then refused to allow himself that solace.

The boy had trusted Gibbs. Had though of him like a father. Bits and pieces of memory rushed his consciousness.

Tony was dead. Gibbs remembered now.

An overwhelming wave of grief, guilt, and fury crashed over him. 'The first chance I get…' Gibbs knew. Whatever forces had stalled his hand when he had first stared down the barrel of his weapon years ago, they were gone. He would do it without hesitation. At worst, this blinding agony would just end. At best, maybe he would be with them again. Shannon. Kelly. Tony. He could see them. The thought of Tony, gone, with Shannon and Kelly brought a sob to Gibbs lips. He couldn't bite it back.

In a second, Ducky and Tony were there.

'Jethro? Jethro?! Open your eyes Jethro. We are at the hospital and you are going to be alright.'

Gibbs swallowed. Ducky. Ducky had watched Tony die. Gibbs couldn't face him and kept his eyes shut, shaking his head as his hot tears burned. 'Go' he croaked out.

'Jethro!' the last thing he needed was for Gibbs to work himself into another stroke.

'Jethro!!' Ducky took a gamble. 'Jethro, Tony is all right.'

Gibbs opened his eyes—they swam with confusion and pain. 'No Duck.' He shook his head forcefully and tugged at his restraints, wanting nothing so much as to cover his face. 'I…I…' he couldn't speak, couldn't breathe.

'Shhhh, just breathe Jethro' Ducky urged.

'Boss?' Tony didn't know what to say, but Gibbs was scaring him.

Gibbs closed his eyes again.

Oh God, Tony's voice.

The lump in his throat wouldn't allow him to swallow. He deserved this. This pain.

'Gibbs…' Tony spoke again 'boss, it's going to be ok. Just relax like Duck say, ok?'

Gibbs cursed his own weakness, but he couldn't stop the tears. Tony's phantom voice burned. Sounding so real, so alive.

Ducky was looking worried. 'Jethro, Tony is alright, he is right here.' He commanded 'Look!'

Gibbs didn't know what to think or do. Why was Ducky doing this, why torture him? He deserved it. That's why. He had killed Tony. With a bark, Gibbs wrenched his eyes open. 'So sorry…' he gasped in misery. If not for the restraints, Gibbs would have been doubled over the pain was so sharp.

Ducky had pulled Tony close. 'Look Jethro, look. It is alright.'

A confused and tentative comprehension slowly entered Gibbs' eyes. It was not possible. 'No. Tony's dead.'

'No no no, boss! Look, I'm ok! You saved me.' Tony's face was close and hopeful.

Ducky interjected 'Jethro, you were drugged. Your mind has played a trick on you. Do you understand what I am saying?'

Not really. Gibbs shook his head tentatively.

'You and Tony were held captive. You were poisoned, but Tony is not hurt.' Gibbs was paying close attention now, blinking, trying to clear his vision. 'You were hurt Jethro, you have had a stroke and things may be confusing for you.'

'Tony?' Gibbs asked suspiciously.

'He's right here Jethro. Look.'

Tony ripped open the Velcro binding Gibbs right wrist and—minding the IV line—took Gibbs hand and placed it on the back on Tony's neck, holding it just below the head-slap spot.

A whisper, tentative and hopeful. Not entirely convinced, like a man who thinks he has just matched up all the numbers on his lottery ticket but hasn't double checked yet 'Tony?'

'Yeah boss. In the flesh.'

Ducky had moved to the foot of the bed and then to Jethro's left side undoing the restraints as he went. In a rare moment of softness, hand still on Tony's neck, Gibbs pulled Tony toward his chest. His weak left arm joined the other in a shaky embrace. 'Dinozzo.' He didn't care if he was weak, didn't care if the whole world knew.

'Yup.' Tony grinned 'I'm still waiting for that coffee boss.' Tony's smile was full and unguarded for the first time since he and Gibbs had entered the elevator two days earlier.

Over the next few days Gibbs' strength began to return, he was driving the nurses to distraction, and had enough MRIs to confirm that although there was some damage, nothing was getting any worse. Gibbs' perceptual problems combined with his short-term memory impairment fairly guaranteed Tony was a fixture in the room. The team and hospital staff had learned the hard way that if Tony wasn't there, there were terrible moments when Gibbs could not be convinced that his agent was ok.

Abby, McGee, Ziva, and Ducky came and went faithfully. As did the physiotherapist, occupational therapist, exercise therapist, and neurologist. Tony and Gibbs watched a lot of movies, Tony explaining when Gibbs mind could not quite figure out the visual information.

Ducky had convinced Tony to take a rare trip to his apartment to get cleaned up and have a rest. He sat as Jethro worked at his lunch with a marine's determination. Gibbs grunted 'One good arm, one good leg, memory's shot to hell, and the wiring is messed up between my eyes and brain Duck?'

'I guess that is one way to summarize your difficulties Jethro. However, as you know, with time and rehabilitation, you may find that all of these difficulties improve. Or some. Or none.'

'Field work? Desk work? What?'

'That will, of course, depend on how well you come along Jethro. How great your improvements are. I would not be at all surprised if, a year from now, most of your capacities have returned.'

Gibbs fork dropped, again, onto his lap. 'Down an arm and a leg, my memory, my vision, and my job Duck?'

'Well I hardly think….' Gibbs held up his hand to stop Dr. Mallard.

'Worst case scenario Duck.'

'Worst case scenario, of course. Well then, yes Jethro, you may continue to suffer some lifelong disability. Partial paralysis on your left side, memory loss, difficulties with perception and emotion. They are all possible. You may need some help around your house.' Ducky took a breath, 'You might not be able return to NCIS.'

Gibbs chewed on that for a moment and then asked Ducky yet again, 'But I didn't hurt Tony?'

Ducky nodded, 'You did not hurt Tony.'

Gibbs harrumphed and looked at Ducky. He wasn't smiling but there was acceptance and satisfaction on his face. Gibbs nodded once, to himself. Although he tried to make his voice sound gruff, Ducky picked up on the affection just behind Gibbs' words as he began poking at his food again: 'Good trade.'

The end! Thank you so much for reading, please take a second to review.