And the Band Kept Playing On - Part 2 of 4
Title: And the Band Kept Playing On (Pinch-hitter)
Author: Water-Soter
Written For: Diction Goddess
Prompt: Tony and McGee friendship fic, with McGee helping out Tony after some sort of mishap/illness and Tony trying to figure out a way to say thanks
Archive: Absolutely, take, take!! Just please do contact me if you are so I’ll know where you’re posting it so I can add it to my author’s notes.
Pairings/Main Characters: Tony and McGee mostly with bits of Abby, Gibbs, Ziva and Ducky.
Genre: H/C/Angst with a side of Humor
Series: Part 2 of 4
Feedback: Absolutely! I’m new at this, so please don’t burn me at the stake. Comments, suggestions and constructive criticism are always welcomed because English is not my native language and I have several learning disabilities such as dyslexia. So please let me know if you find any mistakes. Feel free to be honest, I’m very hard to offend.
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for some disturbing imagery.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the NCIS characters. I just love to torture them, heh.
Word Count: 12,334
Summary: Sometimes the simplest things in life are the most significant. Friendship fic.
Part One
Tony was floating. Sometimes, there was a white light - maybe the white light - other times blurs of shadows. There were noises, voices, other things he couldn’t recognize. He didn’t know how long it took him for that disjointedness to fade, but when it did, the brightness nearly seared his eyes, or at least it felt like it did.
“Tony?”
He knew that voice.
“Ziva?” He tried to say, but all that came out was something sounding like a dead frog.
Something soft was placed on his cheek, but then there was darkness again; then light. And slowly, a beeping skimmed the edge of his consciousness, pulling him toward it. It became louder and more insistent.
“Anthony?” Rough, calloused fingers pressed against his eyelids, and Tony tried to move again as sharp, piercing whiteness burned all the way to his brain.
“Easy there, my boy.” He might have made some whiny noise at the back of his throat, because the pressure ceased, and something poked at his lips. He opened his mouth and that was all the invitation it needed to jump right into his mouth.
“There you go, my boy.” It was a blessed, cool wetness; slowly dripping down his throat, soothing along the way. “The ice chip will help ease your throat.”
Tony sucked on it, swallowing the cold liquid. He was in heaven for exactly two minutes before the brief interruption in his breathing left him gasping for air. It was as though he was trying to get air through a coffee straw.
“Easy there,” Something was placed over his mouth and nose and then there was air; blessed, beautiful oxygen.
Tony’s lungs were on cloud nine, but after a while, the commodity of breathing wore off and the damned thing on his face began grating on his nerves. He tried to lift his hand to poke at it but his arm might as well been made of lead. It didn’t even budge.
As if anticipating his reaction, fingers closed lightly around his wrist. “Now, now, my boy,”
Ah, another voice he recognized. “Ducky?” He no longer sounded like a dead frog, closer to a chain smoker’s with emphysema.
“Yes, Anthony, would you like another ice-chip?” Tony practically lapsed into an ecstasy induced coma. He really loved Ducky right now.
“Well, my boy, while the sentiment is appreciated, I’m afraid you are not quite my type.” Another chip was inserted into his mouth and Tony took it gratefully, “Not the right body parts, I’m afraid.”
Tony was sure there was something he should be saying to that, maybe some witty comment, but at the moment, he couldn’t find the energy to care.
“Now, Anthony, if you would please open your eyes for us.” Pressure on his eyelids had him turning his head instinctively, though he didn’t even managed to move an inch. That really sucked.
They might as well had shoved a ice pick in his brain, the sharp, piercing light burnt his retinas while his brain did the Macarena inside his head. “Just a moment longer,” Ducky muttered, but a second would had been too long.
Then it was gone, and Tony was left with dark spots dancing on his vision. “There, now that wasn’t so bad.”
“Speak for yourself, Ducky,” He gasped out, “I may never get see another bikini clad woman for as long as I live.”
He considered glaring at Ducky as an added bonus, but the man had been friends with Gibbs for years. The attempt would had been lost on him. Besides, there was something so incredibly wrong in being annoyed with Ducky. He was too much like the kindly uncle that gave treats and told awesome stories. Ducky cut dead people and went off on an anecdote tangent if given the chance; about the same thing in Tony’s book.
He shifted away from Ducky and felt something pull at his side. He tried again, and the feeling got sharper, much like the rest of his awareness the longer he remained awake.
“It’s a chest tube,” Ducky said as though reading his mind, “it’s removing any build up of fluids in your lung as well as any left over blood from the surgery.”
“Surgery?” He croaked, at least it was getting better, he didn’t feel like his vocal chords were being shredded when talked now.
“What is the last thing you remember?”
Not much, he though automatically, then flipped through his memory to seek out the relevant information. Not much really was it. “The case.” And that had been a bad one; four marines found literally slaughtered in a storage facility that held chemicals that could - and that was the operative word - be used to create biological weapons. Though they had no idea how the gunny had gotten five canisters out of the facility without being noticed, they’d been working nonstop to get a lead for three days.
“Yes, well, it appeared that the gunny had an accomplice who was in charged of handling the shipping of dangerous chemicals.” Well that explained a lot, “It was in the logs that we had not been able to find.”
He remembered that, too. One of the things Tony had been in charge of, the paperwork; mountains upon mountains of files and paperwork that would take years to go through it all.
“Anything else you might recall?”
Tony thought hard for a moment, “The alley was really clean,” he rasped, “no really, it was just so unnatural.”
His throat really hurt so he decided that maybe talking wasn’t such a good idea. “Yes, well, I would imagine it would have been quite a surprise to find one in such a state.” Ducky fatherly patted his hand.
Despite himself, Tony found his eyes closing, and when he next opened them, the room was dark and silent except for the incessant beeping. He let his eyes wonder around the room and found the blurry image of Abby curled up on a chair, with McGee sprawled up on another one right next to her. He blinked a couple of times to clear his eyes when a movement on the edge of his vision had him glancing at the foot of his bed.
“Boss?” His throat was a little better, going from vocal chords being ripped out to swallowing acid when he talked.
“You with it, Tony?”
Tony waved a hand, or tried to; it still weighted about a ton. It stayed put, much like the rest of his body, save his head. He settled for flickering his fingers and hoped it was enough to convey the message.
“Here,” More ice chips were offered and Tony would had thrown himself on the floor and kissed Gibbs’s feet except for the whole lead body thing, not to mention that hurt or not, Gibbs would had kicked his ass. The blissfully cold chips dripped down his throat. He was probably making some incredibly inappropriate sounds, but the sheer relief was practically orgasmic.
“Enjoying yourself there, Tony?”
He nodded; a jerky motion that nearly sent his head flying from his neck. “You make a good nursemaid, boss,” he muttered, low enough to spare his throat but loud enough for Gibbs’s freakishly good hearing to pick it up.
“Is that so?”
Whatever else he might had said was lost on him once his eyes closed without his consent. Then there was Abby, leaning over him much like Ducky had before - and how long ago had that been?
“Tony, you’re awake!” She was doing that bouncy thing of hers that had her pigtails dancing all over the place.
“How are you feeling?” Her face went from animated to somber like a flipped switch. Tony, used to her mercurial moods, still felt his head spinning, or maybe that was the drugs.
“Floaty,” His voice was better, not by much, but better than it had been. “Wobbly.”
“Well they have you on some pretty strong stuff. Ducky says you’ll feeling kinda out of it for a while.” Abby ran her fingers lightly over Tony’s forehead, something she’d done a handful of times. Tension he didn’t realize he had leeched out of him and before he knew it, his eyes closed.
It was night again, or late afternoon when he came to next. No one hovering over him, but McGee was sitting in a chair next to his bed in a similar position as he’d been - two days ago? One? Tony gave the room a quick once over, but no one else was there. The lights were off but the blinds were drawn to the side, letting in trickles of light from what he assumed were street lamps. It swallowed up the stars and moon, leaving only a very dark and very empty sky.
Next to him, McGee snorted, burred deeper into the chair - if that were possible. The probie looked practically welded to the thing and a rain coat - Armani and it looked like the probie was finally getting some taste - was pilled at the probie’s feet. Tony winced; Armani on a hospital floor was the equivalent of a nun at a strip bar. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
A pretty nurse snuck in - long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, very nicely shaped with plenty in all the right places - took one look at McGee and the incredible expensive coat. She pulled it up and tucked it gently around the probie. She then went over to some closet thing and pulled out a blanket, draping it over McGee, giving him a fond smile. Now, that’s just wrong, Tony thought. He was was, after all, the injured party here. If anyone was going to get any amount of sympathy here it was going to be him.
Before Tony opened his mouth and said as much, the nurse glanced up, her pretty green eyes warm. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
She grabbed another blanket, tucking him in. If she wasn’t so hot, Tony might’ve protested. In sharp contrast to the gentle manner she’d used, she shone a bright light into his eyes, nearly splitting his head at the same time. “Are you in any pain?”
I am now, he thought, as she tried to burn his eyes right in their sockets. He gave a slight nod in response.
“Can you tell me where it hurts?” She probed his chest, which tingled but didn’t flare up in burst of white hot fire like he had expected.
“Head.” She grabbed his chart and scribbled down some information. “Throat,” He added.
“Alright. We’ve been weaning you off the morphine and the local anesthetics, so you’re going to be feeling some discomfort.” Tony knew from experience that meant lots and lost of pain. “Whenever you start feeling pain, I want you to go ahead and use the call button, Dr. Bailey will be here in the morning for your check up.”
McGee made another grunting sound, shifting in the chair.
“He’s been here since you were brought in.” And there was something there. Something in the way she kept looking between Tony and McGee, eyebrows raised, her small hands playing with a strand of hair, a nervous gesture. Tony grinned internally, what a perfect way to get back at the probie without him knowing it.
He made a vague motion with his hands, eyes apologetic in a way they weren’t. The nurse’s look went from contemplative to knowing in a minute and she smiled indulgently at him, then at the probie. “Well, then, I’ll make sure to let Dr. Stevens know to include him in your updates.”
Oh, he certainly hoped she would.
“Thanks.” He gave her his most charming grins which she returned with a wistful glance at the probie before heading off.
By tomorrow morning, when the probie woke up, it would be all over the hospital and he couldn’t wait to see the look on McGee’s face when he realized the assumption that had been made.
*O*O*O*O*O*O*O*
Ziva brought McGee coffee, some donuts and a breakfast burrito from that place not far from the office Tony had introduced him to the week after Kate had died. Abby and Tony were regulars. So much so that they knew and everyone knew them by name. Gibbs stopped by sometimes when they went there after a particularly hard case, but for the most part, it was an Abby, McGee and Tony thing. Ziva never joined them, despite the fact that all three had invited her on more than one occasion. Abby had once said that it was because she didn’t want to intrude on what had become somewhat of a tradition. And Tony hadn’t said anything when McGee had mentioned it to him.
He grabbed the coffee, ignored the donuts in favor of the burrito. It was just the way he liked it, with a hot sauce milder than what was the norm for the small restaurant. It had been a concession that Rocio, the owner, had made when he had thrown up after eating their salsa for the first time. Neither Abby nor Tony ever had let him live that down.
“Has he woken up yet?” Ziva grabbed the other chair they’d snuck in the first day and swung it to Tony’s other side.
Tim swallowed a large bite out of his burrito with some difficulty, using his coffee to help the piece along its way. “Not yet.” The hot liquid scorched but McGee tried not to let it show. From triumphed grin Ziva gave him, he knew he hadn’t succeeded. “Amy says that he’ll probably sleep less now, what with them switching him from morphine to vicodin.”
“Amy? The nurse?” That’s right, McGee remembered, Ziva hadn’t been here as long as he had and she hadn’t gotten to first name basis with the staff.
“Yeah, the brunet with those weird white highlights.” He didn’t mention that she was especially pretty, with her caramel smile and chocolate eyes. That was something Tony would do, and he wasn’t DiNozzo.
“Yes, I believe I saw her on my way here.” Ziva threw him one of her contemplative looks she usually reserved for Tony. “Has the doctor been to see him?”
“They are going to remove the chest tube today, and probably keep him overnight just in case, but if there aren’t any complications, they’ll release him sometime tomorrow.” He took another bite out of his burrito. Morning had started to fade, the room’s shadows becoming less pronounced. “Ducky said Doctor Pitt is going to stop by to check Tony’s lungs later today.”
Ziva’s head jerked up, an unreadable expression on her face, “Tony has not shown any sign of illness.”
“Ducky says it’s just a precaution, with Tony’s medical history -” He didn’t need to mention the plague and how it had left Tony’s lungs scarred and weakened. McGee had often caught him taking some prescription meds when he thought no one was looking and getting regular checkups down at the morgue with Ducky.
“Yes.” The single word said more than a thousand could have but with Ziva, words became encased in layer upon layer of meaning.
From beyond the room, several nurses rushed by, a cart was wheeled somewhere down the hall, machines beeping steadily both inside and outside Tony’s room. McGee finished off his burrito and let the noises lull him. Even with the coffee, the sleepless nights of the past few days were finally catching up with him. He must’ve closed his eyes at one point because suddenly Ziva was standing next to him, gently shaking his shoulder.
“I’m awake.” And now he was really starting to sound like DiNozzo.
Ziva merely gave him a pointed look, “Go home, McGee. Sleep, I will call you if anything changes.”
Tim shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten some sleep here.” Which was an exaggeration, he’d stolen a few winks here and there, nothing like the kind of rest he could have gotten in his own bed.
Ziva gave him another one of her looks, but before she could say anything another voice interceded.
“Are we having a slumber party?” It was raspy and barely audible.
“Tony!” He was up and at Tony’s side in an instant.
“How are you feeling?” Ziva had reached over and had Tony’s hand in hers. Tony’s hazy eyes drifted to their joined hands briefly but Ziva didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she pretended not to.
“Hm, I think I’m a little woozy.” Not as much as he’d been the first two times he’d woken up. McGee remembered his babbling about pigs, bubbles and chains and not in that order. Sometimes getting a glimpse into what went on inside Tony’s head felt like taking a trip into Alice’s wonderland and not the Disney version. “But my head’s clearer.”
Which was a blessing all around. He didn’t know what more Tony had been mumbling about in his drug induced state, but if it was anything close to what McGee had suffered, he considered himself lucky to either be absent or asleep during most of them.
Tony eyed both of them. “So,” he rasped, fingers playing casually with the sheets.
“The doctor is pleased with your progress.” Ziva smiled at Tony, more to break the awkwardness of the moment than any other reason. Tony was incredibly pale. Deep, dark crevices pooling under his eyes. It took Tim back through the years, with Kate and the quarantine and waiting to be told Tony was dead but working against everything to stop that from happening.
“You might be released tomorrow,” He blurred out, erasing those moments in time as easily as a computer file, “barring any complications.”
And Tim really wished he hadn’t said that last part, but instead of a scathing remark or darkening in mood from Tony, he nodded. “Was hoping it would be today.” Tony took in a deep breath and winced, Tony’s hand falling to his chest, a confused look crossing his face.
“The chest tube came out today,” Tim added, and there was something in the way Tony’s eyes suddenly lit up, the same way they did whenever Tony was up to something that usually ended with Tim’s hair an unflattering blue, or waste deep in sewage; never a good sign for him. No, that twinkle never boded well for him.
“Good morning.” Doctor Stevens said, suddenly appearing behind Tim like a wraith, taking years off his life. He walked in, barely glancing at the two of them before focusing entirely on Tony. “How are you feeling?” He shined a penlight into Tony’s eyes, despite his squirming and whining.
“Headache?”
Tony took enough time to actually glare petulantly at the doctor before he said, “Didn’t a minute ago.” His voice was still rough and he sounded like an old man, but the attitude was all Tony at his best, or worst, depending who was asked.
The doctor tried to pull the sheets down, but Tony, in one of his extremely rare modest streaks, grabbed at them and glared at Tim and Ziva until with a roll of her eyes she turned to the window and McGee stared at the wall like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
There was a whimper, and a loud hiss, and the octor hmed. “Alright, all done.”
When Tim looked back at Tony, he had gone from ghostly white to practically translucent. He was breathing so hard that the doctor had placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Sweat was pouring down his face, and McGee saw that it clung to him on the shoulders and chest probably the back, too.
“Everything looks like its healing nicely.” The doctor wrote some things on the chart then turned to him, “I need to do some rounds but I’ll be back to check on Mr. DiNozzo later today. But barring any complications, I see no reason why you can’t take him home tomorrow.”
Tim nodded dutifully, “So tomorrow?”
The doctor smiled gently at him and Tim got a strange little twinge on his skin. “If everything keeps coming along as is, then yes, tomorrow, probably first thing, since I’m certain Mr. DiNozzo here is anxious to leave.”
Tony’s smile was more of a grimace, but it still had a spike of the typical DiNozzo charm and the doctor returned it without hesitance. “Well, you should get some rest. I’ll be pulling a double shift today, so if there’s anything you need, the nurses can page me.” That last part had been directed at him, and again he felt like there was something he was missing.
The doctor walked out with a smirk directed his way then at Tony before disappearing into the hallway. McGee didn’t have time to analyze the pricking at the back of his neck when the room erupted into a fit of breathy snickering. Ziva and Tony were eying him with twin grins plastered on their faces. Familiar glints directed his way.
“What?” But that just caused them to grin even more widely and Tim was left with the feeling that he had really missed something.
A/N: Due to some technical difficulties, I won't be able to post the rest of this story until sometime tomorrow. Sorry for that, hope you guys enjoy the story!!!
Part Three