.fic: dawn
When he woke up he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His head hurt, his lungs refused to work properly. A sickening rotten odor filled his nose and he thought he might need to puke. Squeezing his eyes shut he waited for the nausea to subside and once he felt like he could try again he opened his eyes carefully, only to be greeted by a gruffy voice from the right.
“Welcome to hell.”
He’d found Bill Atlas. That was a good thing, or so he thought. But after a while of composing himself, clearing his head of the fog that clouded his vision and swallowing the bile that threatened to come up, realization hit him.
I’m trapped.
-
The success of freeing Atlas from being chained to the wall was a short-lived one. He was a step closer to getting the marine out of this living hell, but there were too many barriers to go and he was losing time. Atlas was in a bad shape and since Gibbs and Kate didn’t even know where he was it was up to him. If he screwed up Bill Atlas wouldn’t make it, that was for sure.
Failing once more at removing the balk from the door his energy left him and in his frustration he hit the wood. Dammit, dammit, dammit! He thought about giving up but a voice in his mind that sounded very much like Gibbs urged him to move on.
Be strong.
He’d do just that. He wouldn’t disappoint Gibbs.
-
He could hear the blood rush in his ears as he guided Atlas through the labyrinth of the sewer system. He felt like his head was about to explode within the next minutes, but the adrenaline was rushing through his veins and Gibbs’ words echoed in his head. He turned left and groaned quietly. Tony was almost certain he’d been at the same point only two minutes ago.
He went back and turned right instead, marked the wall with his knife but he was admitting to himself, that he was lost. When he didn’t find a way out soon he might have to give up, despite the voice in his head and his compulsion to get Atlas out. Then, a soft hiss of his name penetrated his ear.
“Tony!”
Gibbs’ voice had never sounded so sweet to his ears.
-
Tony tried to rest in the backseat of the car on their ride back to the Navy Yard. When he found he couldn’t he stared out of the window absently and listened to the conversation going on between Kate and Gibbs. He didn’t really get what was being said, though, and the question directed to him was hanging in the air. Only when Kate tipped on his knee he jerked to attention.
“You alright?”
“Sure”, he answered and tried to mask his exhaustion and queasiness with a bright smile. She nodded once, frowning and he felt the need to say something else to make her believe him. “When have you ever known me to be not alright?”
“All the time, DiNozzo”, she retorted.
Holding his breath, Tony waited if she said anything else but was glad when he could go back to closing his eyes, fighting the nausea.
-
The teasing, once back in the office, did it to him. Tony couldn’t hold it together anymore and when he was on his way to the restrooms he was almost certain he wouldn’t make it in time. Fortunately, he did and when he was done vomiting and everything he was left to was the dry heaving he jumped at the soft words from behind.
“Feeling better, Tony?”
He shook his head ever so slightly, leaning over the toilet, because he didn’t feel better at all. In case, he felt a lot worse. His knees were shaking so badly he could barely stand up on his own and he was grateful, when strong arms took hold of him, silently guiding him to the sink, so he could rinse his mouth of the foul taste.
Tony’s vision grayed and he knew the adrenaline had finally left his body. He was left to the after effects of the drugs, which hadn’t entirely left his blood system, yet. When his knees finally buckled under him and he blacked out he could only catch Gibbs’ quiet reassurance.
“I’ve got you, Tony.”
-
His first question when waking up to the bright lights of autopsy was, “what happened?” A rough hand lay on his shoulder, keeping him down and providing the slightest feeling of comfort, as far as that was possible in the cold room.
Listening intently to Ducky’s explanations, which went way beyond his own health, he lost track and glanced over at Gibbs. The corner’s of the man’s mouth curled up in amusement, but Tony was certain there was a hint of worry there, too.
“What I am saying is, that you will be perfectly fine, Anthony. Go home, make yourself a proper meal and lay down to rest”, Ducky finished. “You too, Jethro. It has been quite a long and stressful day. Good night, gentleman.”
-
Later that night, half a bowl of chicken soup and a cup of herbal tea, Tony found himself next to Gibbs, on the couch in the other man’s living room. He hadn’t been feeling like eating anything heavier, afraid he’d spent most of the night with retching, anyway, and it seemed like a waste of food.
He felt exhausted and he couldn’t imagine standing up and leaving for Gibbs’ guestroom. It would be an effort he could manage right now. Instead he found himself drifting out of consciousness, head falling to the side onto Gibbs shoulder, when sleep clouded him in.
Tony didn’t notice, when Gibbs freed himself of his weight and covered him with an afghan.
“Sleep well.”