FIC: Fifteen Percent (NCIS, Gen PG) 2/3
Oct. 2nd, 2008 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mrwubblesPart 2 of 3 here.
Title: Fifteen Percent
Author: Yum@
Pairing: non, gen, team fic
Rating: PG
Words: 10,461 words
Summary: The experts said the survival rate was fifteen percent. You would think someone would have wanted to know.
Spoilers: Post 'SWAK' but before 'Twilight'
Disclaimer: Bellisario owns them. I just kidnap them and feed them cookies.
Notes: This was originally published in our wonderful gen fic anthology Brotherhood #1 2006. Many thanks to the editors and proofreaders for making it one heck of a zine!
<-- Part 1
"He's asleep, but you're welcome to stay for a few minutes if you like."
Kate nodded absently at the duty nurse's whisper. She murmured her thanks and slipped into the room.
The room was a private one, which Kate was sure Tony would be grateful for, but it also gave a feeling of desolation, empty and quiet despite its occupant and the plethora of machines surrounding him.
Kate looked around the room, noting the few bouquets and cards around the tables, grimacing as she recognized one name or the other from the office and realized with a pang they themselves hadn't sent anything. Then again, sending Tony flowers felt really weird when most occasions she felt more tempted to hit him with some, pot included.
She studied the flowers, the stray magazines that Tony must have been reading, although since when did he read Time or Military History? Kate stared at the discarded red coffee cups in the wastebasket, sitting at the bottom of the can along with the stray blood spotted tissues. Her tongue swiped across her lower lip and her eyes slid away from the sight.
This is silly, she thought. Kate took a deep breath and steeled herself. She turned around and finally looked at DiNozzo.
What shocked her first was the pallor. Perhaps staying in a blue-tinged room had given her the illusion that despite the infection, Tony still looked like Tony. Even as he was gasping for air, seizing as he fought the Y. Pestis, the blue hue gave the entire scene a surreal feeling. She truly expected Tony to be…well, Tony.
Tony, however, lay there pale, eyes sunken and drawn. His lips were still bruised and scabbing from the numerous, chest-racking coughs. His short dark hair, usually either slicked back or coiffed into spikes, were plastered around his head with perspiration. He was still running a low-grade fever, the nurse had said.
Kate remembered one time they were crammed into a rental on stakeout. DiNozzo, despite having pulled his seat all the way back, fidgeted the whole night, trying to fit his long legs into the compact space. It was unsettling to see him so motionless now, so quiet, his face lined with pain even in sleep.
Kate pulled up the chair, wincing as it made a metallic scraping noise across the floor. Quietly, she gathered the magazines stacked on top of it, setting them on the nearby table, and gingerly sat down on the edge of the seat.
"H-hey."
Startled, her eyes whipped forward, and she found herself being surveyed by a pair of bloodshot eyes.
"Lunch break," Kate offered. She shifted in her seat and self-consciously brushed the dust off her jeans, chiding herself for not thinking of bringing anything. Should have at least brought some of those disgusting candy bars he liked so much. "Didn't mean to wake you," she added lamely.
"You didn't." Tony winced as he struggled to sit. "Been sleeping so much, I'm gonna end up waking up in the middle of the night."
"Should you even be sitting up?"
"Breathing's easier this way," Tony rasped. He looked startled as the bed suddenly moved a tad. He stared at Kate for a second.
"Thanks."
"No problem." Kate toyed with the bed remote before putting it down. She cleared her throat. "So…uh, how are you feeling?"
"Super," Tony drawled. He raised an eyebrow at her.
She chuckled. "Okay, probably a redundant question. I, uh…McGee says hi."
"Probie?" Tony looked pleased. "How's he doing? Heard Gibbs gave him a hard time."
Kate snorted. "Well, Tim thought we should make the call and Gibbs shot him down hard." She chuckled. "He's been avoiding Gibbs' shadow ever since."
Tony looked at her strangely. "Call? What call? I was talking about the case."
Oh, shit.
"Nothing," Kate said hastily. She smoothed out a corner of his blanket, silently noting the extra coverlet. She briefly touched his exposed arm, noting the goosebumps. "Cold?" she asked quietly.
"Nah. Nurses just like to tuck me in," Tony grinned impishly.
Kate laughed. Nothing ever changed. "Harassed any candy stripers yet?" she shot back. "Or are they too old for you?"
"Not yet, they're not." Tony smirked.
Kate rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you're recovering, DiNozzo. Don't know why I even bothered coming by."
"Aw, were you worried?" Tony placed his hand on his chest. "I'm touched."
"In the head," she muttered, rising to her feet. "I should get back to work. Gibbs has us reviewing all the protocols to see how that letter slipped past security like that."
"Yeah." Tony looked grim. "I'd like to know, too."
"If you hadn't snatched that letter…" Kate reminded him.
"Then you or McGee or, worse, Gibbs, would have gotten the black plague instead," Tony cut in, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.
Taken aback by the vehement tone in DiNozzo's voice, Kate fell silent.
Tony looked embarrassed about the outburst. It appeared to have drained him as well, as he dropped his head back to his pillow, chest heaving. Tony closed his eyes briefly as he coughed into his fist once, then twice.
"I should let you rest," Kate said awkwardly. "Have to go back and…you know. Back to work."
"Pick Gibbs up another coffee, will ya?" Tony muttered, his eyes still shut. "He said that last one was crap."
Kate's brow knitted. "What?"
"Go, before you give me your germs," he rasped jokingly. Tony waved another hand at her. He winced as another cough rattled, and he pressed a hand on his chest. His shirt wrinkled as his hand clenched. "Last thing I need is your damn cold."
"If you wouldn't eat all that junk, you wouldn't have to worry about some cold, DiNozzo," Kate huffed, but she turned to leave anyway.
"Hey."
She paused, her hand at the doorknob.
"What call?"
Damn it. He hadn't forgotten. She closed her eyes, grateful he couldn't see her face. "I uh…we thought we'd give your father a call. Let him know what happened."
"Oh." For some reason, Tony grew very quiet.
"Figured he might want to know. You know…stop by." Kate shrugged helplessly and looked over her shoulder. DiNozzo was staring out his window, his eyes distant. "Tony?"
"Shouldn't be making personal calls, Katie," Tony quipped. He turned back to her and grinned, white teeth flashing. "Don't let Gibbs catch you." His brow waggled. "I mean, he didn't seem too happy when William the lawyer called last week."
"He just wanted to change the time we meet and—wait, how did you know about that call?"
"Oops. Uh…" Tony coughed into a fist. "Sorry. Got a little bubonic plague going on here." He coughed again.
Kate bristled. "Damn it, Tony, butt out of my calls, will you?" She made a show of reaching for one of the bouquets as if to throw at him but stopped. "I have to go." She pivoted around on her heel and aimed for the door again.
"Kate."
"What?" she said, exasperated. She spun around, hands on her hips.
"About that phone call…" Tony sounded tired all of the sudden. "Just…I mean, next time, don't bother, okay?"
Kate stared at Tony, but he didn't elaborate. After a few seconds, Tony's eyes slid shut, and he fell back asleep.
Silent, Kate went back over, pulled the covers higher, making sure they covered his arms as well. Carefully, she slipped out of the room, taking great care to ensure the door clicked shut as quietly as possible behind her.
Despite the fact that she was now officially running late, Kate did make it a point to pick up Gibbs' usual at the local café: dark-roasted brew, no sugar, no milk, in its branded tall white cup. Waiting in line, she mulled over Tony's remark, smiling to herself as she chalked it up to Tony brown-nosing again. Kate found herself missing the fact that their unspoken competition was going to be put on hold until his return.
It was a good thing she did stop to pick up coffee, considering the minute she stepped off the elevator on her floor, McGee was coming at her with barely suppressed panic.
"He knows, he knows," McGee hissed, looking a little wild-eyed under the pretense of heading for the staff area for water. He zipped by her, an apologetic tilt of his head, and he was gone.
Kate blinked, hand curling tighter around the cardboard-wrapped coffee cup as the words sank in. Oh, shit. There was Gibbs, standing there in the general office area, his face set in stone.
"Had a nice lunch, Agent Todd?"
Kate gave him a shaky smile. "Ah, sure. Went to visit Tony, you know, see how he's doing and all."
"Very nice of you. You had a message." Kate didn't think it was possible, but Gibbs' expression grew stormier. "From a Teresa of DiNozzo Financial?"
Kate swallowed. "You see, I thought—"
"No. You didn't think. I specifically said there was no need to call them." Gibbs turned on his heels, dismissing her. He stalked back to his desk, Kate right behind him. "If there was a need to call any agent's family, it is the team leader's responsibility, Agent Todd. Not yours."
"Well, you weren't going to call him and I—" Kate skidded to a halt as Gibbs made an abrupt stop and about-face toward her. She resisted the urge to take a step back and raised her chin to meet his glare. Gibbs stared hard at her, saying nothing. Then his face shifted a little, and he eased back.
"Teresa sends her regards and asked where she can send the flowers. She also sends Mr. DiNozzo's regrets. He will be unable to deviate from his busy schedule." Gibbs' jaw tensed. She could have sworn she heard his teeth grinding. But then he suddenly stalked back to his desk.
"Next time, Kate. Don't." His voice left no room for argument. He sat down in his seat and began pounding at the keys.
Kate's mouth went dry. "I…"
"Get back to work. I want to know why that letter got past our safety protocols."
She set her jaw as well. Kate went over and placed the coffee on his desk. She resisted the urge to slam the cup down on the laminated surface. The typing stopped, and Gibbs stared at the cup.
"Tony mentioned your last cup was crap," Kate said flatly. "Thought you might want another one." She didn't wait for Gibbs' reply and went back to her own desk. She scowled at McGee, who chose that moment to come scurrying back to his cubicle. Kate stared at her computer, ignoring them both. She did, however, note Gibbs in the reflection of her monitor, swirling the coffee in the cup before taking a long drink. Her gaze then moved to the little paper with the phone number scribbled on it, and her stomach churned uncomfortably. Kate shoved the note under her desk calendar and ignored it for the rest of the day.
After some tossing and turning, Kate sat up in bed. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes and stared blearily at the clock. Two-twenty. Rolling over, she thumped her pillow. It was far too early to rise, far too late to be sitting in front of the television set and watching whatever classic was being churned out on syndication. Besides, it'd only remind her of DiNozzo, whose fascination with movies bordered on obsessive at times.
Speaking of which…
Kate's shoulders slumped, remembering Tony's reaction. She regretted calling, especially considering Gibbs' own reaction. She'd tried—after work of course, in case Gibbs was listening—to call again, but the assistant, while sympathetic and sounding genuinely concerned, made it very clear that she did pass along the message but Mr. DiNozzo did not want to be disturbed for anything.
Anything at all.
"Damn it, Tony," Kate muttered. She did not want this on her or to know this about Tony. She was content in thinking of her teammate as the often-sexist jerk he played. But the more she thought about the lack of response from both Gibbs and the patriarch DiNozzo, the angrier she got. Her last report was shoved to McGee to be double-checked since Gibbs was already gone for the day. Probably just as well, as Kate was sending daggers at her boss through her monitor's glass.
She did swing by the hospital again to see Tony, guilt about the call motivating her to take the exit for Bethesda instead of Georgetown.
Tony was asleep again. The illness was obviously taking its toll. He'd looked paler than before, if that could be possible, the wheezing usually heard when awake was still audible in his sleep. Kate found herself occupied with clearing off coffee cups and stacks of magazines, mentally making note to have McGee bring some Tony would enjoy reading more because she sure as hell wasn't going to be caught dead buying those herself.
Tony never woke but did mutter in his sleep from time to time, his brow furrowing in pain. Kate stayed for as long as she could, she wasn't sure why. Maybe to apologize? But for what? Tony never mentioned anything about his family except for that trust fund and the casual aside about his mother's obsession with Louie the fourteenth furniture. What did she care if his father didn't show? Yet Kate still felt compelled to wait until the duty nurse regretfully told her visiting hours were over.
She toyed with the idea of dropping by again, but a long, restless night caused her to wake up late, bleary eyed, and in a mad dash for the door without ironing the chino suit she set out the night before. It put her in a foul mood, especially when she checked her cellphone and realized there was still no call from Teresa or Tony's family despite her messages.
It was with that sour face and wrinkled shirt that Kate entered the office, throwing her purse down on the desk and proceeding to grab her phone, ready to give them a piece of her mind. Looking up, however, she saw Tim McGee's white face.
Something twisted in her gut. "Tim?" She lowered the phone. "What is it?"
McGee was sitting on the edge of his desk, looking stunned. At his name, he blinked and swallowed hard.
"Abby just found out. Uh, this morning."
"What, McGee?" Kate's hand curled tighter around the phone. "Tony?"
McGee nodded. "Last night…uh…I mean…I thought it was, or Ducky was saying something about an inflammation around the bronc—"
"Tim!" Kate stood up, her palms flat on her desk. "What is it?"
"They moved Tony back to ICU last night." Tim blurted out in a rush. "They've listed him in critical condition."
Kate's eyes widened. "He was…He was fine." She braced the edge of her desk. Her knees felt wobbly all of the sudden. "I just…I just saw him yesterday," she added weakly.
"Same here," McGee said glumly. He sat on the edge of his desk, looking down at his shoes.
"Wait. Did you say last night? Why didn't we hear about this until now?" Kate demanded. She whipped around toward Gibbs' desk. His desk empty save for a single red coffee cup indicating he did indeed come in to work. "Where's Gibbs?"
"We should call his family again. Let them know," McGee stammered. He fumbled around his desk. Pens rattled as he searched. "I had their number here somewhere. Damn it, where is it?"
"I would advise against it, my boy." Mallard's cultured voice smoothly cut in. The M.E garbed in his crisp oxford shirt and bow tie stood by Tim's desk with a disapproving frown. "After all, Gibbs warned us against it."
"That was before this," Tim protested. "I mean ICU is serious. It's—"
"Merely a precaution," Ducky raised his hand. "The doctors told Jethro it was merely to monitor the situation and keep a closer eye on him. If all goes well, young Anthony will be returning to his usual room by this evening."
McGee glanced over to Kate, then back to the coroner. "Really?"
"The doctors were quite clear with Jethro this morning."
"They should have still told us," Kate fumed, sitting back down again. "If they moved him last night, they could have told us."
"And you'd do what?" Ducky said. "Caitlin, be reasonable. They wouldn't have allowed many visitors in ICU and Tony was sedated. He wouldn't have even known you were there."
Yeah, but we would have, she thought, but held her tongue as she saw Gibbs coming down the stairs from MTAC.
"McGee," Gibbs barked as he hurried down the metal steps. "I want you to check on Davenport's postal center. The letter should have been routed there after New Jersey. Find out who would have been filtering the mail."
McGee exchanged a look with Kate before heading for his desk.
Kate sighed. She grabbed the slip of paper under her calendar. Rubbing her thumb across the face of the folds, Kate took a deep breath before getting up from her seat.
"Here." She offered the paper to Gibbs. The lead agent looked at if it as if was going to bite him.
"We heard Tony's been moved to the ICU," Kate said. The initials ICU stuck in her throat and came out choked. "I thought. I mean, we thought, maybe we should give Tony's family a call. It's—"
Gibbs' eyes narrowed to dark flints, grinding Kate's words to a halt.
"I thought they said Tony's in ICU," Gibbs gritted out. "Not the morgue." His gaze moved down to the paper she still held out to him.
Kate wouldn't budge. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and Gibbs curled his fingers tight on one end of the paper. With a jerk, he snatched it away.
"Davenport's processing center logs and scans all mail," Gibbs said tightly. "I want a list of who was working the day of that postmark." He raised the crumpled paper now in his grasp. "If you had enough time to find this number, Agent Todd, you'll have time to get me that list." He rubbed his fingers together and the paper rolled into a ball. "Don't waste your time—"
"Waste my time?" Kate bristled. "Those are his—"
"Don't waste your time calling people who can't even take the time to write out their own damn card," Gibbs hissed loud enough for only Kate to hear.
Kate froze.
Gibbs turned on his heel and stalked back to his desk. His left hand whipped forward to snag the coffee by the desk, the other tossing the number into his wastebasket.
"You're not going to try?" Kate asked one last desperate time.
"No," Gibbs said. He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. "Piece of crap," he muttered. The cup made a beeline to his wastebasket as well, the remaining coffee sloshing loudly as it spilled into the trash.
Kate stuck out her chin and headed for her desk, as well. Sitting down with a thump, she glanced over at McGee. His head was bowed over the keyboard, typing rapidly away, but she doubted he knew what he was writing. Gibbs pointedly ignored her, ignored the younger agent, and was reading a file intensely. The burst of anger he displayed before was gone and it looked like business as usual.
Kate sucked in a deep breath. Then another. But she couldn't get her mind to stop reeling. He wouldn't even try, damn it. Gibbs was right.
The second B was for bastard.
Part 3 -->
Title: Fifteen Percent
Author: Yum@
Pairing: non, gen, team fic
Rating: PG
Words: 10,461 words
Summary: The experts said the survival rate was fifteen percent. You would think someone would have wanted to know.
Spoilers: Post 'SWAK' but before 'Twilight'
Disclaimer: Bellisario owns them. I just kidnap them and feed them cookies.
Notes: This was originally published in our wonderful gen fic anthology Brotherhood #1 2006. Many thanks to the editors and proofreaders for making it one heck of a zine!
<-- Part 1
"He's asleep, but you're welcome to stay for a few minutes if you like."
Kate nodded absently at the duty nurse's whisper. She murmured her thanks and slipped into the room.
The room was a private one, which Kate was sure Tony would be grateful for, but it also gave a feeling of desolation, empty and quiet despite its occupant and the plethora of machines surrounding him.
Kate looked around the room, noting the few bouquets and cards around the tables, grimacing as she recognized one name or the other from the office and realized with a pang they themselves hadn't sent anything. Then again, sending Tony flowers felt really weird when most occasions she felt more tempted to hit him with some, pot included.
She studied the flowers, the stray magazines that Tony must have been reading, although since when did he read Time or Military History? Kate stared at the discarded red coffee cups in the wastebasket, sitting at the bottom of the can along with the stray blood spotted tissues. Her tongue swiped across her lower lip and her eyes slid away from the sight.
This is silly, she thought. Kate took a deep breath and steeled herself. She turned around and finally looked at DiNozzo.
What shocked her first was the pallor. Perhaps staying in a blue-tinged room had given her the illusion that despite the infection, Tony still looked like Tony. Even as he was gasping for air, seizing as he fought the Y. Pestis, the blue hue gave the entire scene a surreal feeling. She truly expected Tony to be…well, Tony.
Tony, however, lay there pale, eyes sunken and drawn. His lips were still bruised and scabbing from the numerous, chest-racking coughs. His short dark hair, usually either slicked back or coiffed into spikes, were plastered around his head with perspiration. He was still running a low-grade fever, the nurse had said.
Kate remembered one time they were crammed into a rental on stakeout. DiNozzo, despite having pulled his seat all the way back, fidgeted the whole night, trying to fit his long legs into the compact space. It was unsettling to see him so motionless now, so quiet, his face lined with pain even in sleep.
Kate pulled up the chair, wincing as it made a metallic scraping noise across the floor. Quietly, she gathered the magazines stacked on top of it, setting them on the nearby table, and gingerly sat down on the edge of the seat.
"H-hey."
Startled, her eyes whipped forward, and she found herself being surveyed by a pair of bloodshot eyes.
"Lunch break," Kate offered. She shifted in her seat and self-consciously brushed the dust off her jeans, chiding herself for not thinking of bringing anything. Should have at least brought some of those disgusting candy bars he liked so much. "Didn't mean to wake you," she added lamely.
"You didn't." Tony winced as he struggled to sit. "Been sleeping so much, I'm gonna end up waking up in the middle of the night."
"Should you even be sitting up?"
"Breathing's easier this way," Tony rasped. He looked startled as the bed suddenly moved a tad. He stared at Kate for a second.
"Thanks."
"No problem." Kate toyed with the bed remote before putting it down. She cleared her throat. "So…uh, how are you feeling?"
"Super," Tony drawled. He raised an eyebrow at her.
She chuckled. "Okay, probably a redundant question. I, uh…McGee says hi."
"Probie?" Tony looked pleased. "How's he doing? Heard Gibbs gave him a hard time."
Kate snorted. "Well, Tim thought we should make the call and Gibbs shot him down hard." She chuckled. "He's been avoiding Gibbs' shadow ever since."
Tony looked at her strangely. "Call? What call? I was talking about the case."
Oh, shit.
"Nothing," Kate said hastily. She smoothed out a corner of his blanket, silently noting the extra coverlet. She briefly touched his exposed arm, noting the goosebumps. "Cold?" she asked quietly.
"Nah. Nurses just like to tuck me in," Tony grinned impishly.
Kate laughed. Nothing ever changed. "Harassed any candy stripers yet?" she shot back. "Or are they too old for you?"
"Not yet, they're not." Tony smirked.
Kate rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you're recovering, DiNozzo. Don't know why I even bothered coming by."
"Aw, were you worried?" Tony placed his hand on his chest. "I'm touched."
"In the head," she muttered, rising to her feet. "I should get back to work. Gibbs has us reviewing all the protocols to see how that letter slipped past security like that."
"Yeah." Tony looked grim. "I'd like to know, too."
"If you hadn't snatched that letter…" Kate reminded him.
"Then you or McGee or, worse, Gibbs, would have gotten the black plague instead," Tony cut in, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.
Taken aback by the vehement tone in DiNozzo's voice, Kate fell silent.
Tony looked embarrassed about the outburst. It appeared to have drained him as well, as he dropped his head back to his pillow, chest heaving. Tony closed his eyes briefly as he coughed into his fist once, then twice.
"I should let you rest," Kate said awkwardly. "Have to go back and…you know. Back to work."
"Pick Gibbs up another coffee, will ya?" Tony muttered, his eyes still shut. "He said that last one was crap."
Kate's brow knitted. "What?"
"Go, before you give me your germs," he rasped jokingly. Tony waved another hand at her. He winced as another cough rattled, and he pressed a hand on his chest. His shirt wrinkled as his hand clenched. "Last thing I need is your damn cold."
"If you wouldn't eat all that junk, you wouldn't have to worry about some cold, DiNozzo," Kate huffed, but she turned to leave anyway.
"Hey."
She paused, her hand at the doorknob.
"What call?"
Damn it. He hadn't forgotten. She closed her eyes, grateful he couldn't see her face. "I uh…we thought we'd give your father a call. Let him know what happened."
"Oh." For some reason, Tony grew very quiet.
"Figured he might want to know. You know…stop by." Kate shrugged helplessly and looked over her shoulder. DiNozzo was staring out his window, his eyes distant. "Tony?"
"Shouldn't be making personal calls, Katie," Tony quipped. He turned back to her and grinned, white teeth flashing. "Don't let Gibbs catch you." His brow waggled. "I mean, he didn't seem too happy when William the lawyer called last week."
"He just wanted to change the time we meet and—wait, how did you know about that call?"
"Oops. Uh…" Tony coughed into a fist. "Sorry. Got a little bubonic plague going on here." He coughed again.
Kate bristled. "Damn it, Tony, butt out of my calls, will you?" She made a show of reaching for one of the bouquets as if to throw at him but stopped. "I have to go." She pivoted around on her heel and aimed for the door again.
"Kate."
"What?" she said, exasperated. She spun around, hands on her hips.
"About that phone call…" Tony sounded tired all of the sudden. "Just…I mean, next time, don't bother, okay?"
Kate stared at Tony, but he didn't elaborate. After a few seconds, Tony's eyes slid shut, and he fell back asleep.
Silent, Kate went back over, pulled the covers higher, making sure they covered his arms as well. Carefully, she slipped out of the room, taking great care to ensure the door clicked shut as quietly as possible behind her.
Despite the fact that she was now officially running late, Kate did make it a point to pick up Gibbs' usual at the local café: dark-roasted brew, no sugar, no milk, in its branded tall white cup. Waiting in line, she mulled over Tony's remark, smiling to herself as she chalked it up to Tony brown-nosing again. Kate found herself missing the fact that their unspoken competition was going to be put on hold until his return.
It was a good thing she did stop to pick up coffee, considering the minute she stepped off the elevator on her floor, McGee was coming at her with barely suppressed panic.
"He knows, he knows," McGee hissed, looking a little wild-eyed under the pretense of heading for the staff area for water. He zipped by her, an apologetic tilt of his head, and he was gone.
Kate blinked, hand curling tighter around the cardboard-wrapped coffee cup as the words sank in. Oh, shit. There was Gibbs, standing there in the general office area, his face set in stone.
"Had a nice lunch, Agent Todd?"
Kate gave him a shaky smile. "Ah, sure. Went to visit Tony, you know, see how he's doing and all."
"Very nice of you. You had a message." Kate didn't think it was possible, but Gibbs' expression grew stormier. "From a Teresa of DiNozzo Financial?"
Kate swallowed. "You see, I thought—"
"No. You didn't think. I specifically said there was no need to call them." Gibbs turned on his heels, dismissing her. He stalked back to his desk, Kate right behind him. "If there was a need to call any agent's family, it is the team leader's responsibility, Agent Todd. Not yours."
"Well, you weren't going to call him and I—" Kate skidded to a halt as Gibbs made an abrupt stop and about-face toward her. She resisted the urge to take a step back and raised her chin to meet his glare. Gibbs stared hard at her, saying nothing. Then his face shifted a little, and he eased back.
"Teresa sends her regards and asked where she can send the flowers. She also sends Mr. DiNozzo's regrets. He will be unable to deviate from his busy schedule." Gibbs' jaw tensed. She could have sworn she heard his teeth grinding. But then he suddenly stalked back to his desk.
"Next time, Kate. Don't." His voice left no room for argument. He sat down in his seat and began pounding at the keys.
Kate's mouth went dry. "I…"
"Get back to work. I want to know why that letter got past our safety protocols."
She set her jaw as well. Kate went over and placed the coffee on his desk. She resisted the urge to slam the cup down on the laminated surface. The typing stopped, and Gibbs stared at the cup.
"Tony mentioned your last cup was crap," Kate said flatly. "Thought you might want another one." She didn't wait for Gibbs' reply and went back to her own desk. She scowled at McGee, who chose that moment to come scurrying back to his cubicle. Kate stared at her computer, ignoring them both. She did, however, note Gibbs in the reflection of her monitor, swirling the coffee in the cup before taking a long drink. Her gaze then moved to the little paper with the phone number scribbled on it, and her stomach churned uncomfortably. Kate shoved the note under her desk calendar and ignored it for the rest of the day.
After some tossing and turning, Kate sat up in bed. Sighing, she rubbed her eyes and stared blearily at the clock. Two-twenty. Rolling over, she thumped her pillow. It was far too early to rise, far too late to be sitting in front of the television set and watching whatever classic was being churned out on syndication. Besides, it'd only remind her of DiNozzo, whose fascination with movies bordered on obsessive at times.
Speaking of which…
Kate's shoulders slumped, remembering Tony's reaction. She regretted calling, especially considering Gibbs' own reaction. She'd tried—after work of course, in case Gibbs was listening—to call again, but the assistant, while sympathetic and sounding genuinely concerned, made it very clear that she did pass along the message but Mr. DiNozzo did not want to be disturbed for anything.
Anything at all.
"Damn it, Tony," Kate muttered. She did not want this on her or to know this about Tony. She was content in thinking of her teammate as the often-sexist jerk he played. But the more she thought about the lack of response from both Gibbs and the patriarch DiNozzo, the angrier she got. Her last report was shoved to McGee to be double-checked since Gibbs was already gone for the day. Probably just as well, as Kate was sending daggers at her boss through her monitor's glass.
She did swing by the hospital again to see Tony, guilt about the call motivating her to take the exit for Bethesda instead of Georgetown.
Tony was asleep again. The illness was obviously taking its toll. He'd looked paler than before, if that could be possible, the wheezing usually heard when awake was still audible in his sleep. Kate found herself occupied with clearing off coffee cups and stacks of magazines, mentally making note to have McGee bring some Tony would enjoy reading more because she sure as hell wasn't going to be caught dead buying those herself.
Tony never woke but did mutter in his sleep from time to time, his brow furrowing in pain. Kate stayed for as long as she could, she wasn't sure why. Maybe to apologize? But for what? Tony never mentioned anything about his family except for that trust fund and the casual aside about his mother's obsession with Louie the fourteenth furniture. What did she care if his father didn't show? Yet Kate still felt compelled to wait until the duty nurse regretfully told her visiting hours were over.
She toyed with the idea of dropping by again, but a long, restless night caused her to wake up late, bleary eyed, and in a mad dash for the door without ironing the chino suit she set out the night before. It put her in a foul mood, especially when she checked her cellphone and realized there was still no call from Teresa or Tony's family despite her messages.
It was with that sour face and wrinkled shirt that Kate entered the office, throwing her purse down on the desk and proceeding to grab her phone, ready to give them a piece of her mind. Looking up, however, she saw Tim McGee's white face.
Something twisted in her gut. "Tim?" She lowered the phone. "What is it?"
McGee was sitting on the edge of his desk, looking stunned. At his name, he blinked and swallowed hard.
"Abby just found out. Uh, this morning."
"What, McGee?" Kate's hand curled tighter around the phone. "Tony?"
McGee nodded. "Last night…uh…I mean…I thought it was, or Ducky was saying something about an inflammation around the bronc—"
"Tim!" Kate stood up, her palms flat on her desk. "What is it?"
"They moved Tony back to ICU last night." Tim blurted out in a rush. "They've listed him in critical condition."
Kate's eyes widened. "He was…He was fine." She braced the edge of her desk. Her knees felt wobbly all of the sudden. "I just…I just saw him yesterday," she added weakly.
"Same here," McGee said glumly. He sat on the edge of his desk, looking down at his shoes.
"Wait. Did you say last night? Why didn't we hear about this until now?" Kate demanded. She whipped around toward Gibbs' desk. His desk empty save for a single red coffee cup indicating he did indeed come in to work. "Where's Gibbs?"
"We should call his family again. Let them know," McGee stammered. He fumbled around his desk. Pens rattled as he searched. "I had their number here somewhere. Damn it, where is it?"
"I would advise against it, my boy." Mallard's cultured voice smoothly cut in. The M.E garbed in his crisp oxford shirt and bow tie stood by Tim's desk with a disapproving frown. "After all, Gibbs warned us against it."
"That was before this," Tim protested. "I mean ICU is serious. It's—"
"Merely a precaution," Ducky raised his hand. "The doctors told Jethro it was merely to monitor the situation and keep a closer eye on him. If all goes well, young Anthony will be returning to his usual room by this evening."
McGee glanced over to Kate, then back to the coroner. "Really?"
"The doctors were quite clear with Jethro this morning."
"They should have still told us," Kate fumed, sitting back down again. "If they moved him last night, they could have told us."
"And you'd do what?" Ducky said. "Caitlin, be reasonable. They wouldn't have allowed many visitors in ICU and Tony was sedated. He wouldn't have even known you were there."
Yeah, but we would have, she thought, but held her tongue as she saw Gibbs coming down the stairs from MTAC.
"McGee," Gibbs barked as he hurried down the metal steps. "I want you to check on Davenport's postal center. The letter should have been routed there after New Jersey. Find out who would have been filtering the mail."
McGee exchanged a look with Kate before heading for his desk.
Kate sighed. She grabbed the slip of paper under her calendar. Rubbing her thumb across the face of the folds, Kate took a deep breath before getting up from her seat.
"Here." She offered the paper to Gibbs. The lead agent looked at if it as if was going to bite him.
"We heard Tony's been moved to the ICU," Kate said. The initials ICU stuck in her throat and came out choked. "I thought. I mean, we thought, maybe we should give Tony's family a call. It's—"
Gibbs' eyes narrowed to dark flints, grinding Kate's words to a halt.
"I thought they said Tony's in ICU," Gibbs gritted out. "Not the morgue." His gaze moved down to the paper she still held out to him.
Kate wouldn't budge. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and Gibbs curled his fingers tight on one end of the paper. With a jerk, he snatched it away.
"Davenport's processing center logs and scans all mail," Gibbs said tightly. "I want a list of who was working the day of that postmark." He raised the crumpled paper now in his grasp. "If you had enough time to find this number, Agent Todd, you'll have time to get me that list." He rubbed his fingers together and the paper rolled into a ball. "Don't waste your time—"
"Waste my time?" Kate bristled. "Those are his—"
"Don't waste your time calling people who can't even take the time to write out their own damn card," Gibbs hissed loud enough for only Kate to hear.
Kate froze.
Gibbs turned on his heel and stalked back to his desk. His left hand whipped forward to snag the coffee by the desk, the other tossing the number into his wastebasket.
"You're not going to try?" Kate asked one last desperate time.
"No," Gibbs said. He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced. "Piece of crap," he muttered. The cup made a beeline to his wastebasket as well, the remaining coffee sloshing loudly as it spilled into the trash.
Kate stuck out her chin and headed for her desk, as well. Sitting down with a thump, she glanced over at McGee. His head was bowed over the keyboard, typing rapidly away, but she doubted he knew what he was writing. Gibbs pointedly ignored her, ignored the younger agent, and was reading a file intensely. The burst of anger he displayed before was gone and it looked like business as usual.
Kate sucked in a deep breath. Then another. But she couldn't get her mind to stop reeling. He wouldn't even try, damn it. Gibbs was right.
The second B was for bastard.
Part 3 -->
