How To Relate: Chapter 27
Chapter 27
Learning, Forsaking,
After Tony's fever had gone down, everything seemed to be getting back to normal. He was moved out of the ICU and the doctors said he was healing well. He flirted brazenly with the nurses and even made a few halfhearted escape attempts to keep up appearances, but when he thought eyes weren't on him he was quiet, reflective, and the team noticed.
McGee and Abby had discussed the possibilities and concluded that it definitely had something to do with Ali. At that point McGee decided to stay out of it and encouraged Abby to do the same, but she'd gotten a dangerous gleam in her eyes when he said she should mind her own business, and he had no doubt that she had gone and done exactly the opposite.
When they went to pick up Tony to bring him home on Thursday morning, Abby surprisingly opted to stay behind. Gibbs had stared at her contemplatively for a second, as if he knew something the rest of them didn't, then assigned her the task of setting up Tony's apartment so it was comfortable and easy for him to get around for the next couple of weeks.
As McGee headed through the hospital corridor toward Tony's room, he bumped into a grandmotherly looking nurse who was just coming out.
"Oh, excuse me," he apologized. He looked quizzically toward the door as a familiar tune came drifting out; the theme song to Gilligan's island. "Is that Tony singing?"
"Tony DiNozzo?" The woman chuckled merrily. "Sure is. He saw my name was Ginger and decided to serenade me. He's not feeling any pain right now, if you know what I mean."
McGee grimaced. Did he ever. The sight of Tony on painkillers was not something people usually forgot about.
"Unfortunately," he muttered.
"What was that?" Ginger asked, not sure she had understood the young man correctly. Her hearing wasn't what it used to be, after all.
"Oh, nothing," he assured her. "Thanks for the warning."
"No problem," she smiled, shaking her head as she continued along her route.
McGee, somewhat reluctantly, stepped into the room and saw Tony seated cross-legged on the bed, wearing the old Ohio State T-shirt and sweats that Abby had brought for him the day before, and beginning a second rendition.
"Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip, that started from this tropic port aboard this tiny ship. The mate was a-" Tony broke off mid verse as he spotted McGee. "Oh, hey there McBuddy, McPal, McAmigo. Did you come to McSpring me?"
By this time, Tony was more than anxious to go home, and he'd made sure everyone around him knew it. Truthfully though, this didn't just have to do with his well known loathing of hospitals, of machines that go beep in the night, of being pricked and poked, monitored and medicated. He was anxious because he knew he needed to talk to Ali. He had to make things right.
He had tried to call once and had gotten her voicemail. He'd left a message-a rather lame, vague one, not really feeling like he wanted to bare his soul over the phone-but he knew he needed to see her in person.
"Gibbs is negotiating your discharge right now," McGee told him.
"Ne-go-shee-ate-ing," Tony pronounced slowly. "That's a pretty funny word, McMIT. Ever notice that? It's like a three-dollar word, at least."
McGee smirked, noting the other man's dilated pupils. "Tony, you're high."
Tony offered him a lazy grin. "Au contraire, mon frère. Did you ever think that maybe you are just low? It's all-" here he made a wide sweeping gesture with his hands, "-perspective."
McGee gave an amused scoff. "Alright then. Tony, from my perspective, you're high. As a kite."
"That," Tony pointed his finger emphatically, "is a good point, McPointMaker." He suddenly looked thoughtful. "You know what I've always wondered? Why is it considered an insult to tell someone to go fly a kite? Flying kites is fun."
"Well," McGee began to explain, "the phrase actually originated during the stock market crash of 1929. It refers to doing something useless or futile and was meant to-"
Tony sighed heavily, interrupting him. "Ok, McSmartyPants. If I wanted the extended historical version I would've asked Ducky."
McGee frowned, trying to figure out whether he should be insulted at that.
"You know something else I've always wondered?" Tony went on in a serious tone of voice. "It's like, one of the ultimate questions of the universe. What happens," he paused dramatically, "if you choke a smurf? Huh? What color does it turn?"
"I don't know, Tony," McGee replied, shrugging. "I guess it doesn't turn any color."
"Wrong!" Tony announced, triumph in his voice. "See, it's tricky, but I figured it out. It turns blue."
McGee laughed. "Um, Tony, smurfs are already blue."
Tony nodded solemnly. "Exactly."
Giving up on following that logic, McGee simply shook his head tolerantly. "Ok, Tony."
"Know what else is blue? My Jell-O. See?"
Tony reached over to the tray at the side of his bed and picked up a plastic serving cup which was, indeed, full of blue Jell-O.
"It's blue, Probie. B-l-u-e." Tony managed to stretch that one syllable word into four syllables as he insistently held the cup up to McGee's face. "Blue, see?"
Rolling his eyes, McGee pushed it away. "I see that, Tony."
"No, I don't think you do." Tony beckoned McGee closer before informing him in a loud whisper: "It tastes blue, too!"
McGee sighed. "Look, Tony, if you don't want it, just don't eat it. I'm sure a nurse will take it away when she takes the tray."
Tony pulled the Jell-O back possessively, scowling. "Didn't say I didn't want it. It's fun to play with. It's all wiggly and stuff. Watch this."
In the middle of Tony's demonstration of just how 'wiggly' the Jell-O was, Ziva walked into the room.
"McGee," she began, looking oddly on the scene. "What is he doing?"
McGee sighed. "His best imitation of Bill Cosby, apparently."
"Who?"
Tony looked up in exaggerated shock. "Oh, come on. Bill Cosby: great American actor, comedian, and Jell-O spokesperson extraordinaire. Even you should know that."
Ziva cocked an eyebrow. "And what is that supposed to mean? Even me?"
Tony grinned sheepishly, sensing danger even in his drugged up state. "Nothing."
"Hmmm." Ziva moved to sit on the edge of his bed, her expression skeptical.
"So, what's the good word?" he asked. "Did Gibbs sweet-talk the doc?"
"Why?" Ziva replied, a hint of mischief playing on her face. "Is the little patient getting a little impatient?"
"Little patient?" Tony glared. "Just what is that supposed to mean, Zee-vah?"
Ziva gave a suggestive smirk as she eyed him up and down. "Nothing," she replied innocently.
Tony leaned forward, his mouth open about to protest what she seemed to be intimating, when he saw Gibbs come in silently through the door that Ziva's back was to.
"You two, play grab ass on your own time," he barked. "We're on a schedule here."
McGee snickered into his hand as Ziva sprang up from the bed at the words, but she quickly recovered enough to appear slightly offended.
"So, does this mean I get to go home?" Tony asked eagerly.
"No, DiNozzo," Gibbs deadpanned. "They want to keep you for another week, just because."
"I cannot imagine why," Ziva said aside to McGee.
McGee grinned. "Well, we know it's not his sparkling personality," he replied quietly.
Ziva snorted back her laughter.
"Haha, that's a good one, Boss." Tony suddenly sobered. "You, uh, you are just kidding, right?"
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Come on, DiNozzo."
Tony grinned. "Knew you had my six, Boss."
Tony had been left in the capable hands of Abby, who was taking the day off to stay with him. She was uncharacteristically silent, not immediately barraging him with either chatter or her normally predictable hugs and he wondered why. But he still tired easily and after taking his prescriptions with a light lunch Abby had prepared, he soon fell asleep on the couch, an old Western on the TV fading into background noise.
When he woke Abby was sitting next to him, watching him quietly.
"Tony," she began when she realized he was awake, "you wouldn't lie to me, right?"
"Right," he answered, not sure where this was going.
"So, if I ask you a question, you'll answer me honestly."
"Sure."
Abby took in a deep breath. "Ok, the thing is, ever since you talked with Ali on Sunday you've been acting funny. Not like 'haha funny', more like 'weird strange un-Tony funny', and I couldn't understand why. So I did a little digging and I started putting things together and I came to a conclusion. And I- I didn't like that conclusion, I didn't like it at all, so I thought and I thought but I couldn't think any way around it. And I want you to tell me that I'm wrong, but I don't think you can. I know you too well. Tony," she looked him straight in the eye. "Tony, tell me you didn't."
Tony looked down, knowing that she had figured out the truth. She did know him very well, probably as well and as long as anyone had. "Abby…"
The word was answer and apology all in one.
She gasped. "You did! I knew it! Oh, Tony how could you? I mean, I guess I can see how you could, but why? Well, ok, I guess I know the why, too, I mean, I know what you're like Tony, I know you always take on blame that you shouldn't but this time you really shouldn't have."
"Abbs-"
"I am serious, Tony!" Abby stood and began pacing the length of Tony's living room. "You guys can't just- I mean, you can't- you need each other! It's so perfect. You're both so alike; you even look a little alike, but then you're also so different some ways. And she's nice and you're nice and it would all just be really, really nice, you know? And besides that, you're both, like, the only family the other has. That should count for something!"
Tony sighed. "It does."
"Of course it does! Wait… what?" Abby stopped pacing and turned back.
"Just one question though, Abbs. What happened to 'we're your family, Tony'?"
Abby sank onto the couch at his side. "We are, Tony," she told him gently. "And we always will be. You know that. Just maybe… maybe you have room for one more."
Tony nodded. "No, I know. You're right. Usually are."
Abby frowned, suspicious of his swift compliance. "You're agreeing with me just like that? It's too easy."
"Abbs, I had already made up my mind." He decided against mentioning that both Ziva and Gibbs had beaten her to the subject and helped him to make up his mind. "Don't worry. I'm going to talk to her. I'll fix it."
"Oh." Abby sat back, the figurative wind swept out from under her sails. "Good. I mean, you know I'd be on your side no matter what, Tony, but I would've been sad if that meant that Ali and I couldn't be friends."
"I never would have asked you to give up a friendship because of me, Abby," Tony protested.
"Oh, I know," she assured him. "But I would've done it for you anyway."
Touched by her loyalty, Tony smiled. "Abby, did I ever tell you you're a good friend?"
She grinned back at him. "Yes, but I don't mind if you repeat yourself."
"Well then, you're a good friend, Abigail Sciuto."
Abby hugged him softly. "You're not so bad yourself, Anthony DiNozzo."
...
Chapter 28