How To Relate: Chapter 20
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 20
Life And Death And In Between
A flurry of activity commenced around Tony's inert form as emergency personnel arrived upon the scene. Gibbs and Ziva were made to stand aside, and now watched helplessly, silently with the others.
"No pulse," one paramedic shouted. The measured heartbeats from the attached EKG monitor were sounding far too quickly and rather irregularly. "He's in V-Tach."
Another paramedic inserted an IV line, then began ventilating Tony using a bag valve mask, while the first prepared to defibrillate.
Gibbs felt Ziva stiffen against his side, and put an arm around her. Watching the frantic bid to save his agent's life, he couldn't remember ever having felt so powerless. He was agonizingly aware that he had done all he could, and frankly, terrified that it wouldn't be enough.
It's all up to you now, Tony.
"Charging to 200. Clear!"
As soon as the shock was administered, the second paramedic went back to giving Tony oxygen, while the first checked the EKG to see if his heart had converted to a life-sustaining rhythm.
It hadn't.
Please, Tony. Please. Ziva didn't realize she was voicelessly mouthing the imploring words as she repeated them over and over in her mind. Please, Tony.
"Charging to 300. Clear!"
The paramedic providing oxygen got clear and the other shocked Tony's heart again.
Still no change.
Wide-eyed and wordless, Ali clung to McGee as though her life depended on it. Glad for the moment to have something to hold on to, he automatically supported her trembling figure, unable to tear his stinging eyes away from the crisis unfolding in the center of the room.
Come on, Tony. Don't do this to us.
"Charging to 360. Clear!"
Nothing.
"Get me a milligram of Epi!" the first paramedic instructed the other, beginning to administer chest compressions. After the injection of adrenaline and a round of CPR he again attempted to defibrillate.
"Charging to 360. Clear!"
For a few hopeful seconds, the EKG showed a normal reading, but then reverted back to its previous rhythm.
"Ok. 40U of Vasopressin," the first paramedic ordered, as he carried out another series of chest compressions.
Dammit, DiNozzo! Gibbs desperately clenched his fists, as if somehow hoping that would make a difference. You have to fight!
"Charging to 360. Clear!"
This time the anxious onlookers were rewarded with an answering steady beep from the EKG, accompanied by violent retching as Tony, still insensible, expelled the excess air that had been forced in during CPR, together with the other contents of his stomach.
"We've got him," the first paramedic announced, the monitor now showing a normal, albeit slightly rapid, sinus rhythm, as the second paramedic suctioned out the vomit so that Tony wouldn't choke. "Pulse is a little weak, but it'll do."
Gibbs let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. Atta boy, Tony.
Just then, another monitor blared out a piercing alarm.
"O2 sats are still dropping," the second paramedic called out. "We need to intubate now."
They wasted no time, swiftly placing an endotracheal tube and then securing Tony on a gurney and loading into the back of the ambulance.
Frozen, numb, in shock, the group all stared down the road after the departing ambulance. As the flashing lights sped out of sight, Gibbs spoke up.
"Let's go."
"-at Washington Hospital Center, Duck… Yeah. Could you… tell Abby?… Thanks. She'll want to be here."
As he closed the phone, Gibbs leaned back in the stiff plastic chair with a sigh, feeling utterly exhausted.
They had arrived at the hospital to find that Tony had been immediately rushed into surgery, and, though Gibbs knew it was much too early to hear anything, he still couldn't help looking up every time someone came out of the doors that led to Trauma.
He glanced around the waiting room. Two chairs down, Ziva sat ramrod straight, her legs crossed and her arms folded rigidly around herself as one foot tapped impatiently, almost imperceptibly. Across from them, McGee stared at the ground, his head propped up in one hand glumly. His other was firmly clutched in both of Ali's as she listlessly occupied the next seat, her knees drawn up to her chin and her eyes focused blankly ahead at the wall. She hadn't said a word since the factory and she was shivering, whether from shock or cold, Gibbs didn't know. He realized with a start that she was still covered in now-dry blood nearly up to her elbows, a macabre and unnecessary reminder of the events of the past hour.
"Ziva."
The Israeli turned to look at him, questioningly.
He gestured toward Ali. "Get her cleaned up."
After a second in which she seemed about to protest, Ziva nodded and walked over to Ali, speaking a few low words. Ali just stared up at Ziva, seeming uncertain and a little fearful until McGee said something that appeared to reassure her, then she stood and trailed Ziva down the hall into the ladies' room.
Gibbs looked away, lost in his thoughts, until Ducky and Abby showed up a few minutes later. The forensic tech ran directly into Gibbs' arms, her lower lip quivering.
"Gibbs! How bad is it? I mean, I know it's bad, because Ducky wouldn't tell me anything. But it can't be that bad, right? I mean, it's Tony. He has to be ok. He just has to. Right?" Abby looked up at Gibbs' face, trying to read his expression. "Right, Gibbs?" she begged, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.
He pulled her in close and pressed his lips to the top of her head, saying more with his silence than any words could convey.
Ali mechanically followed Ziva over to the sink but made no move to turn on the faucet, instead continuing to stare off into space.
Ziva held back a frustrated sigh, knowing that Ali had not been trained as she was, and more than likely had never experienced a situation like this before; she couldn't blame her for not knowing how to react. Not to mention that her brother had just been shot before her eyes. That would rattle anyone.
It did.
She reached across and turned on the tap, then placed the younger woman's hands under the stream of water.
Gazing in horrified fascination at the water swirling pink down the basin, Ali stood stock-still and silent as Ziva wiped the blood from her arms with damp paper towels. She still hadn't moved as Ziva shut off the water and began to help her dry.
When the unexpectedly gentle touch got to her right hand, Ali let out an involuntary hiss of pain. Ziva was confused until she spotted the swollen joint of her little finger.
"Your finger is broken," she observed.
Ali slowly looked down at the appendage in question, seeming surprised, as though she had never seen it before. Then, cradling it with her other hand as if to protect it, she closed her eyes for a moment, gasping as the sound of the faintly dripping faucet echoed off the tiles and brought her back to the factory.
The just-recalled pain in her hand was shunted aside as she relived that morning; her fear when she realized Tony was shot, the short-lived relief when he had freed her, and the absolute helpless terror that filled her when he had succumbed to the blood loss, leaving her feeling completely alone in the world. All these memories and emotions assailed her at once, and her eyes flew open wide with a stifled sob.
"Is he going to die?" she whispered, the last word catching in her throat.
Ziva met her eyes, noticing for the first time how very like Tony's they were. No amount of tired platitudes would make either woman feel better, and they both knew it. "We should go have your hand looked at."
McGee stared at the clock on the wall, wondering if it could possibly be right. The hands seemed to be moving at a snail's pace, and yet hours had passed since Tony had been brought in.
Hours, and they hadn't heard anything.
As the time had grown later and began to stretch into the evening, they'd all become more and more anxious.
Next to McGee, Ali's position was much the same as that morning, but she was no longer shivering. He had given her his jacket to wear, and it made her look very small as she huddled in the chair. She still grasped his hand tightly like a life-line, her grip not affected one bit by her splinted finger, and he thought she might soon bite through her lip.
Ziva had begun pacing around the waiting room and muttering under her breath in some foreign language, while Jimmy sat solemnly in the corner, having come in from his day off as soon as he'd heard. Abby was glued to Gibb's side, as Ducky tried to comfort her with the information that this was one of the finest Level One Trauma Centers in the country.
"-as a matter of fact, I am acquainted with several of the doctors here, and they are all quite skilled-"
Tuning the ME out, McGee thought about how fitting the designation of waiting room was. Waiting was infuriating at the best of times, but it was all they could do right now; wait. Wait for someone, anyone, to come out of those cold, sterile swinging doors and tell them what was going on.
The whole thing was still surreal. Mere hours earlier, Tony had been his usual self, and now they weren't even sure whether he was going to make it. It all seemed like some sort of cruel joke.
He stared at the cooling paper cups in front of them on the table. Someone had gone to get coffee for everyone, he wasn't sure who. Ducky or Jimmy perhaps. But even Gibbs had barely touched his.
The team leader was expressionless and silent, only answering direct queries with terse one-word replies. That in itself was not unusual, but McGee could tell that he was preoccupied.
Suddenly startled out of his own reverie when a serious looking man in wire-rimmed glasses and scrubs approached the group, McGee felt Ali's hand tense in his. This was it. The moment of truth.
"Are you all here for Agent DiNozzo?"
"Yes, that's us." Ducky stood and answered for all of them.
The man removed his glasses and wiped his brow. Everyone leaned in to hear as he began to deliver his news.
...
Chapter 21
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 20
Life And Death And In Between
A flurry of activity commenced around Tony's inert form as emergency personnel arrived upon the scene. Gibbs and Ziva were made to stand aside, and now watched helplessly, silently with the others.
"No pulse," one paramedic shouted. The measured heartbeats from the attached EKG monitor were sounding far too quickly and rather irregularly. "He's in V-Tach."
Another paramedic inserted an IV line, then began ventilating Tony using a bag valve mask, while the first prepared to defibrillate.
Gibbs felt Ziva stiffen against his side, and put an arm around her. Watching the frantic bid to save his agent's life, he couldn't remember ever having felt so powerless. He was agonizingly aware that he had done all he could, and frankly, terrified that it wouldn't be enough.
It's all up to you now, Tony.
"Charging to 200. Clear!"
As soon as the shock was administered, the second paramedic went back to giving Tony oxygen, while the first checked the EKG to see if his heart had converted to a life-sustaining rhythm.
It hadn't.
Please, Tony. Please. Ziva didn't realize she was voicelessly mouthing the imploring words as she repeated them over and over in her mind. Please, Tony.
"Charging to 300. Clear!"
The paramedic providing oxygen got clear and the other shocked Tony's heart again.
Still no change.
Wide-eyed and wordless, Ali clung to McGee as though her life depended on it. Glad for the moment to have something to hold on to, he automatically supported her trembling figure, unable to tear his stinging eyes away from the crisis unfolding in the center of the room.
Come on, Tony. Don't do this to us.
"Charging to 360. Clear!"
Nothing.
"Get me a milligram of Epi!" the first paramedic instructed the other, beginning to administer chest compressions. After the injection of adrenaline and a round of CPR he again attempted to defibrillate.
"Charging to 360. Clear!"
For a few hopeful seconds, the EKG showed a normal reading, but then reverted back to its previous rhythm.
"Ok. 40U of Vasopressin," the first paramedic ordered, as he carried out another series of chest compressions.
Dammit, DiNozzo! Gibbs desperately clenched his fists, as if somehow hoping that would make a difference. You have to fight!
"Charging to 360. Clear!"
This time the anxious onlookers were rewarded with an answering steady beep from the EKG, accompanied by violent retching as Tony, still insensible, expelled the excess air that had been forced in during CPR, together with the other contents of his stomach.
"We've got him," the first paramedic announced, the monitor now showing a normal, albeit slightly rapid, sinus rhythm, as the second paramedic suctioned out the vomit so that Tony wouldn't choke. "Pulse is a little weak, but it'll do."
Gibbs let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. Atta boy, Tony.
Just then, another monitor blared out a piercing alarm.
"O2 sats are still dropping," the second paramedic called out. "We need to intubate now."
They wasted no time, swiftly placing an endotracheal tube and then securing Tony on a gurney and loading into the back of the ambulance.
Frozen, numb, in shock, the group all stared down the road after the departing ambulance. As the flashing lights sped out of sight, Gibbs spoke up.
"Let's go."
"-at Washington Hospital Center, Duck… Yeah. Could you… tell Abby?… Thanks. She'll want to be here."
As he closed the phone, Gibbs leaned back in the stiff plastic chair with a sigh, feeling utterly exhausted.
They had arrived at the hospital to find that Tony had been immediately rushed into surgery, and, though Gibbs knew it was much too early to hear anything, he still couldn't help looking up every time someone came out of the doors that led to Trauma.
He glanced around the waiting room. Two chairs down, Ziva sat ramrod straight, her legs crossed and her arms folded rigidly around herself as one foot tapped impatiently, almost imperceptibly. Across from them, McGee stared at the ground, his head propped up in one hand glumly. His other was firmly clutched in both of Ali's as she listlessly occupied the next seat, her knees drawn up to her chin and her eyes focused blankly ahead at the wall. She hadn't said a word since the factory and she was shivering, whether from shock or cold, Gibbs didn't know. He realized with a start that she was still covered in now-dry blood nearly up to her elbows, a macabre and unnecessary reminder of the events of the past hour.
"Ziva."
The Israeli turned to look at him, questioningly.
He gestured toward Ali. "Get her cleaned up."
After a second in which she seemed about to protest, Ziva nodded and walked over to Ali, speaking a few low words. Ali just stared up at Ziva, seeming uncertain and a little fearful until McGee said something that appeared to reassure her, then she stood and trailed Ziva down the hall into the ladies' room.
Gibbs looked away, lost in his thoughts, until Ducky and Abby showed up a few minutes later. The forensic tech ran directly into Gibbs' arms, her lower lip quivering.
"Gibbs! How bad is it? I mean, I know it's bad, because Ducky wouldn't tell me anything. But it can't be that bad, right? I mean, it's Tony. He has to be ok. He just has to. Right?" Abby looked up at Gibbs' face, trying to read his expression. "Right, Gibbs?" she begged, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.
He pulled her in close and pressed his lips to the top of her head, saying more with his silence than any words could convey.
Ali mechanically followed Ziva over to the sink but made no move to turn on the faucet, instead continuing to stare off into space.
Ziva held back a frustrated sigh, knowing that Ali had not been trained as she was, and more than likely had never experienced a situation like this before; she couldn't blame her for not knowing how to react. Not to mention that her brother had just been shot before her eyes. That would rattle anyone.
It did.
She reached across and turned on the tap, then placed the younger woman's hands under the stream of water.
Gazing in horrified fascination at the water swirling pink down the basin, Ali stood stock-still and silent as Ziva wiped the blood from her arms with damp paper towels. She still hadn't moved as Ziva shut off the water and began to help her dry.
When the unexpectedly gentle touch got to her right hand, Ali let out an involuntary hiss of pain. Ziva was confused until she spotted the swollen joint of her little finger.
"Your finger is broken," she observed.
Ali slowly looked down at the appendage in question, seeming surprised, as though she had never seen it before. Then, cradling it with her other hand as if to protect it, she closed her eyes for a moment, gasping as the sound of the faintly dripping faucet echoed off the tiles and brought her back to the factory.
The just-recalled pain in her hand was shunted aside as she relived that morning; her fear when she realized Tony was shot, the short-lived relief when he had freed her, and the absolute helpless terror that filled her when he had succumbed to the blood loss, leaving her feeling completely alone in the world. All these memories and emotions assailed her at once, and her eyes flew open wide with a stifled sob.
"Is he going to die?" she whispered, the last word catching in her throat.
Ziva met her eyes, noticing for the first time how very like Tony's they were. No amount of tired platitudes would make either woman feel better, and they both knew it. "We should go have your hand looked at."
McGee stared at the clock on the wall, wondering if it could possibly be right. The hands seemed to be moving at a snail's pace, and yet hours had passed since Tony had been brought in.
Hours, and they hadn't heard anything.
As the time had grown later and began to stretch into the evening, they'd all become more and more anxious.
Next to McGee, Ali's position was much the same as that morning, but she was no longer shivering. He had given her his jacket to wear, and it made her look very small as she huddled in the chair. She still grasped his hand tightly like a life-line, her grip not affected one bit by her splinted finger, and he thought she might soon bite through her lip.
Ziva had begun pacing around the waiting room and muttering under her breath in some foreign language, while Jimmy sat solemnly in the corner, having come in from his day off as soon as he'd heard. Abby was glued to Gibb's side, as Ducky tried to comfort her with the information that this was one of the finest Level One Trauma Centers in the country.
"-as a matter of fact, I am acquainted with several of the doctors here, and they are all quite skilled-"
Tuning the ME out, McGee thought about how fitting the designation of waiting room was. Waiting was infuriating at the best of times, but it was all they could do right now; wait. Wait for someone, anyone, to come out of those cold, sterile swinging doors and tell them what was going on.
The whole thing was still surreal. Mere hours earlier, Tony had been his usual self, and now they weren't even sure whether he was going to make it. It all seemed like some sort of cruel joke.
He stared at the cooling paper cups in front of them on the table. Someone had gone to get coffee for everyone, he wasn't sure who. Ducky or Jimmy perhaps. But even Gibbs had barely touched his.
The team leader was expressionless and silent, only answering direct queries with terse one-word replies. That in itself was not unusual, but McGee could tell that he was preoccupied.
Suddenly startled out of his own reverie when a serious looking man in wire-rimmed glasses and scrubs approached the group, McGee felt Ali's hand tense in his. This was it. The moment of truth.
"Are you all here for Agent DiNozzo?"
"Yes, that's us." Ducky stood and answered for all of them.
The man removed his glasses and wiped his brow. Everyone leaned in to hear as he began to deliver his news.
...
Chapter 21