How To Relate: Chapter 24
Title: How To Relate
Author: justhowthisgoes
Rating: T
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family
Pairing: None
Summary: Tony's been getting threatening letters and the team is worried, but Tony isn't taking them seriously. Then come the attempts on his life. Could the new girl at NCIS be involved? And will a secret from Tony's past be revealed in the search?
Warnings: Spoilers up to season 7
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even Tony. *pouts* I bow to the genius of Donald P. Bellisario.
Chapter 24
Aftershocks
"TONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Abby's high-pitched squeal echoed through the hall as she sprinted into Tony's room, skidding to a stop just short of his bed. She frowned and chewed her bottom lip as she looked her friend up and down, taking him in.
As relieving as it was that Tony was finally awake, he really did look awful, she decided. Worse than this morning even. The dark circles now visible under his eyes marred his pale face like bruises, and he seemed somehow off. Like something was wrong. Of course she hadn't expected him to look one hundred percent, but still…
Tony looked up at her, quizzical. "Abby?"
Abby brushed the nagging thought aside. "I'm trying to figure out where I can hug you so I don't hurt you," she explained.
Walking around to the left side of the bed, she very carefully embraced Tony, laying her cheek against his chest. She closed her eyes, both hearing and feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her.
"You really scared me, Tony, you know?" The confession was whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Tony was beginning to feel the effects of the painkillers, a sort of foggy, drowsy sensation, but oddly without the most of the silliness that he usually experienced. He attributed this to the rather bad mood he was in at the moment due to his 'talk' with Ali and the fact that he really wasn't feeling too well. His head was aching and he wished he could just go back to sleep, but he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.
"I know, Abbs," he replied softly, patting her on the back. "I'm sorry."
Abby just sniffed loudly into the shoulder of his hospital gown in response.
"Hey, Abby, it's ok. I'm ok." Taking her chin in his hand, Tony lifted her face toward his so that their eyes were level. "I'm just fine. See?"
"Yeah," Abby sniffed again as she blinked back the moisture that was threatening to spill from her eyes. "But what if you weren't fine? Huh? I mean, gosh Tony, I don't even know what we'd do without you. It'd be like Rocky Road without marshmallows, or Sesame Street without Snuffleupagus, or like the A-Team without Murdock-"
"Wait, Murdock?" Tony interrupted, somewhat miffed. "Seriously? Why am I Murdock? Why can't I be Hannibal, or…"
His protests petered out with one look from Abby, as she straightened up, hands on her hips, in full lecture mode.
"Tony, if you ever- and I mean ever- make me worry like that again, I will personally kick your ass from here to Tuesday, mister. Got that?"
"Yes ma'am." Tony saluted her.
"Good." Abby nodded in satisfaction.
"Knock, knock."
Tony and Abby looked up to see McGee at the door, holding a six-pack carton of Red Bull. Behind him, Palmer was carrying a large bunch of balloons, weighted down at the bottom with a stuffed bear.
"You guys mind if we come and join the party?"
Physically, Tony was exhausted and in pain; mentally, he was irritable at best, not to mention still actively kicking himself over Ali. As a result, he was certainly less than excited at the prospect of more visitors at the moment, but he plastered on a grin and waved them in anyway.
"Why, Palmer," Tony raised an eyebrow slyly, "you shouldn't have."
"Shouldn't have…" Palmer looked briefly confused, then chuckled in realization. "Oh, the balloons. These are from Abby. I'm just the pack mule."
He set them down next to the bed.
"SpongeBob?" Tony asked, amusement in his voice as he caught sight of the inflated cartoon character bobbing up amongst normal balloons bearing generic Get Well messages. "Really?"
"Hey, it was either that, or Dora the Explorer," Abby informed him.
"Ah." Tony smirked. "Well then, you chose… wisely."
McGee looked thoughtful as he unloaded his burden on the chair next to Abby. "I know that one. That's a reference to Monty Python, right?"
"Very good, McHolyGrail. I'm impressed."
Abby quickly pounced on the box of soda, popping open a can and downing nearly half of it in one gulp.
"Oh, caffeine, how I have missed thee," she sighed in contentment. "Not as good as Caf-Pow, but you'll have to do for now."
"So, how are you feeling, Tony?" McGee asked.
"Like I got shot," Tony replied, deadpan.
Palmer stifled a laugh as McGee rolled his eyes.
"Gee, really?"
As Abby settled onto the edge of the bed and began chattering away about her new favorite band, Tony smiled and tried to act interested, but truthfully his mind was wandering. Wandering back to Ali, the look on her face when he'd-
No. He didn't regret it.
He couldn't.
Ali stumbled down the hallway, half blinded by the hot tears of anger, humiliation, and pure misery that streamed from her eyes. It was as though a dam of negative emotions had burst and she was powerless to stop the impending flood.
She hardly knew where she was going; just that she had to get away from there. She had to get out.
People with abandonment issues, with trust issues, really shouldn't go looking for more pain. Rejection hurt worse than simply being alone; she knew this, had known it for years.
And yet, she had once again tried to make a connection, tried to find someone who was supposed to accept her unconditionally, hoping that this time it wouldn't all be thrown back in her face, wouldn't all disappear in the blink of an eye. She had rushed in like a fool, consequences be damned.
Really, she bore most of the blame in this.
So consumed was she in her self-castigation that when she turned a corner and ran straight into someone, she didn't at first realize it was Gibbs, who was followed closely by Ducky.
Both men reached out to steady her before she fell.
Ducky immediately noted her tearstained face. "Why, Alison, whatever is the matter? Has something happened?"
Gibbs felt a sudden anxiety. "Tony- he's not-"
Ali interpreted his broken sentence correctly. "No, Tony's fine." She gave a wretched laugh. "Actually, come to think of it, he's probably doing a whole lot better now that I won't be bothering him anymore."
"Now, why on earth would you think that?" Ducky asked in surprise.
"Ask him. He's the one that said- he said-" she paused, scrubbing desperately at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. "Never mind. It doesn't even matter. I'm not one to stick around when I'm not wanted."
Ducky exchanged a puzzled glance with Gibbs before pulling out a handkerchief and offering it to Ali. "My dear child, whatever he may have said, I can't imagine he meant that you weren't wanted."
Ali took the handkerchief and swiped half-heartedly at her eyes before wadding it up in her hand.
"No, he was quite clear on that point; believe me," she assured them bitterly.
"My dear," Ducky said kindly, "it is obvious to all of us that Anthony cares for you a great deal."
"Could've fooled me." She handed Ducky's handkerchief back to him with one final sniff. "Thanks. I guess I'll see you around. Or not."
"Alison-" Ducky began, but she had already walked away.
Ducky turned to Gibbs. "He did, didn't he, Jethro?" His voice held a note of censure.
Gibbs stared down the empty hall, understanding slowly dawning on him. "Fool her? Yep."
"But, why?" Ducky shook his head in bewilderment.
An exasperated frown on his face, Gibbs' reply was simple. "Because he's DiNozzo."
Abby was fiddling with the tab on her third can of Red Bull, bending it back and forth until it came off in her hand.
"Huh. I got X again. It's funny, because the only person I know with a name that starts with X is my cousin Xavier, and there is no way I would ever marry him, even though it's actually completely legal to marry your first cousin in Louisiana. I mean, he's totally weird, but not in a good way, more in a sort of semi-creepy way, and he has a goatee, which, granted, isn't necessarily a bad thing, but on him it just looks icky." Here she paused for breath. "You know, that reminds me, Tony, you need a shave. You're all scruffy. Not that I'm saying you look bad with scruff," she put in hurriedly. "Trust me, plenty of girls find that attractive. It's just that it's kind of scratchy when I hug you."
Tony gave her a small smile. "Maybe I'll just let it grow. How do you think I'd look with a beard?"
"I think that you would look like a pirate," Ziva interjected as she walked in the door.
"A pirate, huh?" Tony pondered this as he stroked his four day stubble. "Is that good or bad?"
"Hmmm…" Ziva pursed her lips, appearing to consider it for a second. "That would depend."
"On what?"
Ziva just smiled mysteriously before changing the subject. "Where is Ali?"
Temporarily overcome with the irrational thought that the entire room somehow knew what had just taken place between he and Ali, Tony swallowed convulsively.
Don't be ridiculous, he told himself, viciously burying the guilt that was threatening to resurface and spill, unchecked, in open confession. They couldn't possibly know. Besides, it's not like I did anything wrong. Not really.
"She left," he replied shortly.
"She left?" Ziva repeated, looking puzzled.
"Why did she leave?"
"Where did she go?"
Palmer and Abby spoke up at the same time.
Tony gave a huff of annoyance. "What is this, Twenty Questions?"
"We're just surprised, Tony, that's all," Abby told him.
"Did she say goodbye or anything?" McGee asked.
"Not exactly," Tony hedged.
"Look, I'm not her keeper, ok?" he continued defiantly, seeing their openly questioning expressions.
"No one said that you were, Tony," Ziva soothed, attempting to coax down his sudden defensive walls. "We were only curious."
Tony scoffed. "Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition."
"Well, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," Abby gently teased.
Glowering, Tony didn't acknowledge the quote.
"Are you feeling alright, Tony?" As Ziva spoke, she reached over to feel his forehead.
Tony jerked away with a startled exclamation. "Geez Ziva! Your hands are freezing!"
"My hands are not cold!" Ziva protested indignantly, looking down at the offending appendages. She narrowed her eyes at him almost accusingly. "You are just hot!"
The other three looked at Tony expectantly, waiting for him to take advantage of that opening, but he said nothing, simply continuing to scowl.
Abby thought he looked amusingly like a sulky child, making her want to ruffle his hair, but instead she leaned over to feel his forehead herself. Tony glared, but didn't pull away this time.
Alarmed at the heat that was radiating from him, Abby dropped her hand. "You are hot, Tony. I mean, not like that. Well, I mean, of course like that, because you totally are. Duh. But you're hotter than usual. I mean, hotter than this morning. Oh, you know what I mean. Do you feel ok? Well, of course you don't feel ok, you got shot, but I mean, do you feel sick or anything?"
"I'm fine, Abbs," he told her stonily.
"Tony!"
Abby folded her arms tightly, staring him down. Tony stared right back, being deliberately contrary.
This was what Gibbs and Ducky saw as they walked in the room.
"Ducky," Abby called out, not even turning around. "Tony has a temperature."
"Tattletale," Tony muttered crossly, but he didn't argue when Gibbs ushered the others out of the room.
He didn't argue when Ducky felt his forehead, clucked disapprovingly, and summoned a nurse to take his temperature.
He didn't even argue when, several minutes later, the doctor came in to talk to them. By that time, his exhaustion had overtaken him, and he had fallen into a restless sleep.
...
Chapter 25
Author: justhowthisgoes
Rating: T
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family
Pairing: None
Summary: Tony's been getting threatening letters and the team is worried, but Tony isn't taking them seriously. Then come the attempts on his life. Could the new girl at NCIS be involved? And will a secret from Tony's past be revealed in the search?
Warnings: Spoilers up to season 7
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even Tony. *pouts* I bow to the genius of Donald P. Bellisario.
Chapter 24
Aftershocks
"TONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Abby's high-pitched squeal echoed through the hall as she sprinted into Tony's room, skidding to a stop just short of his bed. She frowned and chewed her bottom lip as she looked her friend up and down, taking him in.
As relieving as it was that Tony was finally awake, he really did look awful, she decided. Worse than this morning even. The dark circles now visible under his eyes marred his pale face like bruises, and he seemed somehow off. Like something was wrong. Of course she hadn't expected him to look one hundred percent, but still…
Tony looked up at her, quizzical. "Abby?"
Abby brushed the nagging thought aside. "I'm trying to figure out where I can hug you so I don't hurt you," she explained.
Walking around to the left side of the bed, she very carefully embraced Tony, laying her cheek against his chest. She closed her eyes, both hearing and feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her.
"You really scared me, Tony, you know?" The confession was whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Tony was beginning to feel the effects of the painkillers, a sort of foggy, drowsy sensation, but oddly without the most of the silliness that he usually experienced. He attributed this to the rather bad mood he was in at the moment due to his 'talk' with Ali and the fact that he really wasn't feeling too well. His head was aching and he wished he could just go back to sleep, but he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.
"I know, Abbs," he replied softly, patting her on the back. "I'm sorry."
Abby just sniffed loudly into the shoulder of his hospital gown in response.
"Hey, Abby, it's ok. I'm ok." Taking her chin in his hand, Tony lifted her face toward his so that their eyes were level. "I'm just fine. See?"
"Yeah," Abby sniffed again as she blinked back the moisture that was threatening to spill from her eyes. "But what if you weren't fine? Huh? I mean, gosh Tony, I don't even know what we'd do without you. It'd be like Rocky Road without marshmallows, or Sesame Street without Snuffleupagus, or like the A-Team without Murdock-"
"Wait, Murdock?" Tony interrupted, somewhat miffed. "Seriously? Why am I Murdock? Why can't I be Hannibal, or…"
His protests petered out with one look from Abby, as she straightened up, hands on her hips, in full lecture mode.
"Tony, if you ever- and I mean ever- make me worry like that again, I will personally kick your ass from here to Tuesday, mister. Got that?"
"Yes ma'am." Tony saluted her.
"Good." Abby nodded in satisfaction.
"Knock, knock."
Tony and Abby looked up to see McGee at the door, holding a six-pack carton of Red Bull. Behind him, Palmer was carrying a large bunch of balloons, weighted down at the bottom with a stuffed bear.
"You guys mind if we come and join the party?"
Physically, Tony was exhausted and in pain; mentally, he was irritable at best, not to mention still actively kicking himself over Ali. As a result, he was certainly less than excited at the prospect of more visitors at the moment, but he plastered on a grin and waved them in anyway.
"Why, Palmer," Tony raised an eyebrow slyly, "you shouldn't have."
"Shouldn't have…" Palmer looked briefly confused, then chuckled in realization. "Oh, the balloons. These are from Abby. I'm just the pack mule."
He set them down next to the bed.
"SpongeBob?" Tony asked, amusement in his voice as he caught sight of the inflated cartoon character bobbing up amongst normal balloons bearing generic Get Well messages. "Really?"
"Hey, it was either that, or Dora the Explorer," Abby informed him.
"Ah." Tony smirked. "Well then, you chose… wisely."
McGee looked thoughtful as he unloaded his burden on the chair next to Abby. "I know that one. That's a reference to Monty Python, right?"
"Very good, McHolyGrail. I'm impressed."
Abby quickly pounced on the box of soda, popping open a can and downing nearly half of it in one gulp.
"Oh, caffeine, how I have missed thee," she sighed in contentment. "Not as good as Caf-Pow, but you'll have to do for now."
"So, how are you feeling, Tony?" McGee asked.
"Like I got shot," Tony replied, deadpan.
Palmer stifled a laugh as McGee rolled his eyes.
"Gee, really?"
As Abby settled onto the edge of the bed and began chattering away about her new favorite band, Tony smiled and tried to act interested, but truthfully his mind was wandering. Wandering back to Ali, the look on her face when he'd-
No. He didn't regret it.
He couldn't.
Ali stumbled down the hallway, half blinded by the hot tears of anger, humiliation, and pure misery that streamed from her eyes. It was as though a dam of negative emotions had burst and she was powerless to stop the impending flood.
She hardly knew where she was going; just that she had to get away from there. She had to get out.
People with abandonment issues, with trust issues, really shouldn't go looking for more pain. Rejection hurt worse than simply being alone; she knew this, had known it for years.
And yet, she had once again tried to make a connection, tried to find someone who was supposed to accept her unconditionally, hoping that this time it wouldn't all be thrown back in her face, wouldn't all disappear in the blink of an eye. She had rushed in like a fool, consequences be damned.
Really, she bore most of the blame in this.
So consumed was she in her self-castigation that when she turned a corner and ran straight into someone, she didn't at first realize it was Gibbs, who was followed closely by Ducky.
Both men reached out to steady her before she fell.
Ducky immediately noted her tearstained face. "Why, Alison, whatever is the matter? Has something happened?"
Gibbs felt a sudden anxiety. "Tony- he's not-"
Ali interpreted his broken sentence correctly. "No, Tony's fine." She gave a wretched laugh. "Actually, come to think of it, he's probably doing a whole lot better now that I won't be bothering him anymore."
"Now, why on earth would you think that?" Ducky asked in surprise.
"Ask him. He's the one that said- he said-" she paused, scrubbing desperately at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. "Never mind. It doesn't even matter. I'm not one to stick around when I'm not wanted."
Ducky exchanged a puzzled glance with Gibbs before pulling out a handkerchief and offering it to Ali. "My dear child, whatever he may have said, I can't imagine he meant that you weren't wanted."
Ali took the handkerchief and swiped half-heartedly at her eyes before wadding it up in her hand.
"No, he was quite clear on that point; believe me," she assured them bitterly.
"My dear," Ducky said kindly, "it is obvious to all of us that Anthony cares for you a great deal."
"Could've fooled me." She handed Ducky's handkerchief back to him with one final sniff. "Thanks. I guess I'll see you around. Or not."
"Alison-" Ducky began, but she had already walked away.
Ducky turned to Gibbs. "He did, didn't he, Jethro?" His voice held a note of censure.
Gibbs stared down the empty hall, understanding slowly dawning on him. "Fool her? Yep."
"But, why?" Ducky shook his head in bewilderment.
An exasperated frown on his face, Gibbs' reply was simple. "Because he's DiNozzo."
Abby was fiddling with the tab on her third can of Red Bull, bending it back and forth until it came off in her hand.
"Huh. I got X again. It's funny, because the only person I know with a name that starts with X is my cousin Xavier, and there is no way I would ever marry him, even though it's actually completely legal to marry your first cousin in Louisiana. I mean, he's totally weird, but not in a good way, more in a sort of semi-creepy way, and he has a goatee, which, granted, isn't necessarily a bad thing, but on him it just looks icky." Here she paused for breath. "You know, that reminds me, Tony, you need a shave. You're all scruffy. Not that I'm saying you look bad with scruff," she put in hurriedly. "Trust me, plenty of girls find that attractive. It's just that it's kind of scratchy when I hug you."
Tony gave her a small smile. "Maybe I'll just let it grow. How do you think I'd look with a beard?"
"I think that you would look like a pirate," Ziva interjected as she walked in the door.
"A pirate, huh?" Tony pondered this as he stroked his four day stubble. "Is that good or bad?"
"Hmmm…" Ziva pursed her lips, appearing to consider it for a second. "That would depend."
"On what?"
Ziva just smiled mysteriously before changing the subject. "Where is Ali?"
Temporarily overcome with the irrational thought that the entire room somehow knew what had just taken place between he and Ali, Tony swallowed convulsively.
Don't be ridiculous, he told himself, viciously burying the guilt that was threatening to resurface and spill, unchecked, in open confession. They couldn't possibly know. Besides, it's not like I did anything wrong. Not really.
"She left," he replied shortly.
"She left?" Ziva repeated, looking puzzled.
"Why did she leave?"
"Where did she go?"
Palmer and Abby spoke up at the same time.
Tony gave a huff of annoyance. "What is this, Twenty Questions?"
"We're just surprised, Tony, that's all," Abby told him.
"Did she say goodbye or anything?" McGee asked.
"Not exactly," Tony hedged.
"Look, I'm not her keeper, ok?" he continued defiantly, seeing their openly questioning expressions.
"No one said that you were, Tony," Ziva soothed, attempting to coax down his sudden defensive walls. "We were only curious."
Tony scoffed. "Yeah, well, I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition."
"Well, nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," Abby gently teased.
Glowering, Tony didn't acknowledge the quote.
"Are you feeling alright, Tony?" As Ziva spoke, she reached over to feel his forehead.
Tony jerked away with a startled exclamation. "Geez Ziva! Your hands are freezing!"
"My hands are not cold!" Ziva protested indignantly, looking down at the offending appendages. She narrowed her eyes at him almost accusingly. "You are just hot!"
The other three looked at Tony expectantly, waiting for him to take advantage of that opening, but he said nothing, simply continuing to scowl.
Abby thought he looked amusingly like a sulky child, making her want to ruffle his hair, but instead she leaned over to feel his forehead herself. Tony glared, but didn't pull away this time.
Alarmed at the heat that was radiating from him, Abby dropped her hand. "You are hot, Tony. I mean, not like that. Well, I mean, of course like that, because you totally are. Duh. But you're hotter than usual. I mean, hotter than this morning. Oh, you know what I mean. Do you feel ok? Well, of course you don't feel ok, you got shot, but I mean, do you feel sick or anything?"
"I'm fine, Abbs," he told her stonily.
"Tony!"
Abby folded her arms tightly, staring him down. Tony stared right back, being deliberately contrary.
This was what Gibbs and Ducky saw as they walked in the room.
"Ducky," Abby called out, not even turning around. "Tony has a temperature."
"Tattletale," Tony muttered crossly, but he didn't argue when Gibbs ushered the others out of the room.
He didn't argue when Ducky felt his forehead, clucked disapprovingly, and summoned a nurse to take his temperature.
He didn't even argue when, several minutes later, the doctor came in to talk to them. By that time, his exhaustion had overtaken him, and he had fallen into a restless sleep.
...
Chapter 25