penfet (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} penfet) wrote,@ 2006-04-23 14:29:00 |
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Fic (1/2)
Pyrrha: Hero of Grief
Gibbs/Dinozzo, R
“I feel like elbow noodles that have been soaked in blood and then pasted into the shape of an elephant.” Tony says, his eyes wide as he leans away from the nurse’s needle.
“Elephant?” She asks, making a plunge for his arm but missing. Tony smirks.
“Yeah,” He says, “Big invisi-fucking ow.”
“Gotcha.” She smiles.
Tony’s head lulls, his eyelids flutter, and then he passes out with his mouth wide open and snoring to the tune of enough sedatives to kill a dog. Gibbs watches the nurse check his pulse and then directs the staff to free him of his restraints, wash, and groom him as they count down the precious minutes of quiet. Tony’s unconsciousness allows them to care for what they can while they’re still able.
****
Tony laughs while Gibbs gets himself stitched up. Tony’s teeth are still bloody from where the skin broke and Gibbs is told that he will always bear the half-smile of a scar. It seems appropriate, Tony’s grin is what Gibbs has always loved best about him.
“Tag.” Tony smacks his head against the wall with a rhythmic thump. “You’re it.”
Gibbs’s disappointment presses sharp against his spine. With every dim-eyed thump Tony knocks it closer to a killing point.
“Straightjacket.” Gibbs orders tiredly.
“Yes!” Tony yells. “Straightjacket! That’s worth what...four points?”
“It’s a lay-up, Tony. You know that.” One nurse says sweetly as she helps strap him in. Tony’s brow furrows but he holds out his arms out like a well-trained child.
“But...” Tony struggles briefly once he’s bound tight. “I got through his defenses. That’s at least a three-pointer.”
“Yes,” She says, “You did, but you don’t get points for biting, Tony. He gets a penalty shot.”
Tony makes squinting eye contact for a sliding moment. “Fine,” He sulks, “So what happens with a penalty shot?”
The nurse looks to Gibbs. Nods.
Tony’s head jerks back and the slick, dark, slap echos the sound of shattering bone. Tony’s shakes it off like a champ with his fogged eyes blinking and a little groan. Gibbs grabs his jaw and waits until Tony’s attention is all his, until the man can gather enough fragments of himself to remember why he just got punished.
“We’re even now.” Gibbs says. “But if you bite me again I’ll pull every tooth out of your head. You hear me?”
“Yeah,” Tony whispers, lolling. “Game over.”
If only.
****
Tony has a perfectly good cot in the corner, Gibbs has even added sheets and a pillow, but nine times out of eight the man falls asleep face down on the interrogation table.
Gibbs hasn’t asked why. He’s not sure he wants to know.
As usual Tony’s eyes pop open the second after Gibbs is fully seated and settled in his own chair. Once Gibbs had stood in the doorway and called out but Tony hadn’t even moved. It had only takes the tiniest scrape of metal on concrete to have Tony popping up, wide awake. It’s disconcerting.
“Oh,” Tony says with a relieved sigh, “It’s just you.”
It’s the same response over and over but Tony can never tell Gibbs who he expects to see when he opens his eyes in the morning.
****
Tony has hair like a rabbit . It’s very distracting. Tony plays with it in the one-way mirror when he’s bored and there are some days that Gibbs comes very close to just sitting down and, well, doing something very out of character.
Tony has pulled string from his blanket and made himself two pigtails that stick up from his head like teddy-bear ears.
“So....” Tony blinks owlishly, “Is daddy-dearest baying for bodily fluids yet?”
“Your father has recently been distracted by recent events.” Gibbs explains shortly.
“Oh.” Tony tugs a string out of his hair. Eats it.
This is a good day.
****
Tony sings lullabies up against the one-way mirror in his cell in a mournful, smooth voice. He tells fairytales that start at the end and wind decades into some other child’s future. He taps the rhythm of Fur Elise against the glass and turns once-upon-a-times into a-day-ago-last-week.
“There was a knight,” He whispers, “with enchanted armor and a daring steed. There was a knight who walked slow, straight, and steady through life. He protected the weak. It wasn’t enough. Never enough. He died.”
Tony takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes.
“There was a knight,” He whispers, “with no need for enchanted armor or a daring steed. There was a knight who wielded a sword of power and strength. A righteous knight. He withered on the vine and faded to dust.”
Tony sighs and slaps his palms against the glass.
“There was a princess.” Tony falters. “Her hair was black and her eyes were bright when she laughed. She ate apples every day. She choked on the core of some sweet fruit. Fruit of her labors.”
Gibbs settles in close to the glass and makes himself as comfortable as possible. Tony will go on like this for hours and Gibbs will listen to every minute.
Someday the hero will survive and Gibbs will be there to hear it.
****
At night they dim the lights in Tony’s room. When Tony’s father had been overseeing his care there had been nothing but an endless day and Tony’s eyes had been bruise black and bloody-threaded as a result. Gibbs had been nearly sick to see it.
As the lights dim Tony gets up out of his cot, or down from the table, or out of the many positions he finds himself during the day, and sits down in one of the two chair before passing out.
Tony will wake up in exactly two hours, touch his face with shaking hands and then fall back into a restless sleep.
Gibbs watches every night.
****
Gibbs tosses down an egg mcmuffin and tries not to be too amused when Tony looks at him speculatively and says, “Sorry. I’m watching my figure.”
Gibbs takes the sandwich out and takes a bite. His second offer gets him a disgusted grimace.
“It’s been in your mouth.” Tony gags dramatically. “It’s all covered in your DNA.”
Put that way the idea really is disgusting. Tony snatches the wrapper and licks off the extra cheese. He smiles and folds the creases.
“So many people have touched it,” Tony says as he folds the yellow paper. “The person who handles the original paper, the person who puts it in the box, the person who unloads the box, the people who make the sandwiches and put them in the bag, you, whoever you are, and now me.”
For someone so concerned about DNA Tony is still perfectly content to fold the wrapper into a hat and wear it for the rest of the session.
When Gibbs asks what Tony thinks about all those different people he gets a long, blank stare.
“What people?” Tony asks.
****
Tony sings numbers in the shower and always looks a little surprised when no one writes them down.
****
Gibbs spends a weekend sleeping, because he’s found that he can’t keep up with Tony and Tony’s incongruities. He’s tried, god how he’s tried, but Gibbs falls asleep in one of the back chairs of MTAC and no one bothers to wake him.
The gunfire, explosives, blabbering bureaucrats...it all adds up to more peaceful dreams than Tony’s helpless madness.
Gibbs awakes when the director shakes him with concerned eyes.
“There’s been a problem.” She says. “Tony-”
Gibbs is up and gone before the other shoe drops.
****
Tony is broken and bloody in the nurse’s room.
“Hat trick, touchdown, three-pointer, home run,” Tony says loudly as they set his bones, sweating and shaking rough. He yells. “Oh no, the clock is running out!”
There’s a crunch as they push his femur back into the correct position. “Checkmate.” Tony whimpers. “Oh, fuck.”
“What happened?!” Gibbs can’t help but yell. Two nights. Two goddamned nights. “What the hell happened?”
One of the nurses looks up as she administers something from a startlingly large syringe.
“Tony,” She says shortly, “Decided to rack up some extracurricular points.”
“Why?” Gibbs had thought he was safe. Suicide hadn’t been on Tony’s profile. The nurse, the blonde, looks up with accusing eyes as if to say, ‘you know perfectly well why’.
Tony looks up, eyes dilated and reeling. “Oh hey Boss, how was the vacation? Missed you. Got really, really bored without all that sitting.”
Gibbs walks forward and grabs the curve of his jaw as gently as his anger will allow him to.
“I didn’t leave, damn you. I was only sleeping.” Gibbs’s voice is hoarse and unbelieving.
“Sleeping me off.” Tony lolls. “Sleeping me all away.”
“Fuck you, you selfish asshole.” Gibbs snarls. This at least gets Tony’s attention. Tony actually has the gall to look hurt. Gibbs pokes his chest hard enough that he’ll feel it through the drugs and the pain and snarls. “Some of us aren’t batshit. I can’t function on coffee alone.”
Tony makes this little ‘oh’ face, like he honestly hasn’t considered that Gibbs wasn’t more than mortal.
“You do this again and I’ll let you rot alone in that room for the rest of your miserable life.” Gibbs promises. He will not feel guilty.
Tony blinks and smiles. “You do care.”
And then he passes out.
Gibbs sits down on the extra operating table and massages his brow with the overwhelming urge to just let it all go, and then...Tony had called him Boss. Tony had called him Boss.
The last thing Gibbs feels is a sharp prick as the pretty blonde uses her skills exquisitely.
“We’ll keep you both under at the same time.” She promises with understanding hands. “Rest.”
Gibbs can do nothing but comply.
****
Neither of them mention Tony’s cast. Gibbs just sits and stares and wonders exactly when it was that Tony started paying attention to the curve of his face and the timber of his voice. Gibbs has been neutral to Tony for a long time.
Or at least Gibbs had thought he was neutral. Boss. It echos through his mind over and over again. Gibbs can’t help but smile.
Tony flinches like he’s been slapped.
A new day. A better day.
“Good morning.” Gibbs tells him.
“Good morning.” Tony says back, a perfect mimic and a familiar eagerness to his eyes. This is the beginning of the end and Gibbs can start to take him home, one word at a time.
Pyrrha: Hero of Grief
Gibbs/Dinozzo, R
“I feel like elbow noodles that have been soaked in blood and then pasted into the shape of an elephant.” Tony says, his eyes wide as he leans away from the nurse’s needle.
“Elephant?” She asks, making a plunge for his arm but missing. Tony smirks.
“Yeah,” He says, “Big invisi-fucking ow.”
“Gotcha.” She smiles.
Tony’s head lulls, his eyelids flutter, and then he passes out with his mouth wide open and snoring to the tune of enough sedatives to kill a dog. Gibbs watches the nurse check his pulse and then directs the staff to free him of his restraints, wash, and groom him as they count down the precious minutes of quiet. Tony’s unconsciousness allows them to care for what they can while they’re still able.
****
Tony laughs while Gibbs gets himself stitched up. Tony’s teeth are still bloody from where the skin broke and Gibbs is told that he will always bear the half-smile of a scar. It seems appropriate, Tony’s grin is what Gibbs has always loved best about him.
“Tag.” Tony smacks his head against the wall with a rhythmic thump. “You’re it.”
Gibbs’s disappointment presses sharp against his spine. With every dim-eyed thump Tony knocks it closer to a killing point.
“Straightjacket.” Gibbs orders tiredly.
“Yes!” Tony yells. “Straightjacket! That’s worth what...four points?”
“It’s a lay-up, Tony. You know that.” One nurse says sweetly as she helps strap him in. Tony’s brow furrows but he holds out his arms out like a well-trained child.
“But...” Tony struggles briefly once he’s bound tight. “I got through his defenses. That’s at least a three-pointer.”
“Yes,” She says, “You did, but you don’t get points for biting, Tony. He gets a penalty shot.”
Tony makes squinting eye contact for a sliding moment. “Fine,” He sulks, “So what happens with a penalty shot?”
The nurse looks to Gibbs. Nods.
Tony’s head jerks back and the slick, dark, slap echos the sound of shattering bone. Tony’s shakes it off like a champ with his fogged eyes blinking and a little groan. Gibbs grabs his jaw and waits until Tony’s attention is all his, until the man can gather enough fragments of himself to remember why he just got punished.
“We’re even now.” Gibbs says. “But if you bite me again I’ll pull every tooth out of your head. You hear me?”
“Yeah,” Tony whispers, lolling. “Game over.”
If only.
****
Tony has a perfectly good cot in the corner, Gibbs has even added sheets and a pillow, but nine times out of eight the man falls asleep face down on the interrogation table.
Gibbs hasn’t asked why. He’s not sure he wants to know.
As usual Tony’s eyes pop open the second after Gibbs is fully seated and settled in his own chair. Once Gibbs had stood in the doorway and called out but Tony hadn’t even moved. It had only takes the tiniest scrape of metal on concrete to have Tony popping up, wide awake. It’s disconcerting.
“Oh,” Tony says with a relieved sigh, “It’s just you.”
It’s the same response over and over but Tony can never tell Gibbs who he expects to see when he opens his eyes in the morning.
****
Tony has hair like a rabbit . It’s very distracting. Tony plays with it in the one-way mirror when he’s bored and there are some days that Gibbs comes very close to just sitting down and, well, doing something very out of character.
Tony has pulled string from his blanket and made himself two pigtails that stick up from his head like teddy-bear ears.
“So....” Tony blinks owlishly, “Is daddy-dearest baying for bodily fluids yet?”
“Your father has recently been distracted by recent events.” Gibbs explains shortly.
“Oh.” Tony tugs a string out of his hair. Eats it.
This is a good day.
****
Tony sings lullabies up against the one-way mirror in his cell in a mournful, smooth voice. He tells fairytales that start at the end and wind decades into some other child’s future. He taps the rhythm of Fur Elise against the glass and turns once-upon-a-times into a-day-ago-last-week.
“There was a knight,” He whispers, “with enchanted armor and a daring steed. There was a knight who walked slow, straight, and steady through life. He protected the weak. It wasn’t enough. Never enough. He died.”
Tony takes a shaky breath and closes his eyes.
“There was a knight,” He whispers, “with no need for enchanted armor or a daring steed. There was a knight who wielded a sword of power and strength. A righteous knight. He withered on the vine and faded to dust.”
Tony sighs and slaps his palms against the glass.
“There was a princess.” Tony falters. “Her hair was black and her eyes were bright when she laughed. She ate apples every day. She choked on the core of some sweet fruit. Fruit of her labors.”
Gibbs settles in close to the glass and makes himself as comfortable as possible. Tony will go on like this for hours and Gibbs will listen to every minute.
Someday the hero will survive and Gibbs will be there to hear it.
****
At night they dim the lights in Tony’s room. When Tony’s father had been overseeing his care there had been nothing but an endless day and Tony’s eyes had been bruise black and bloody-threaded as a result. Gibbs had been nearly sick to see it.
As the lights dim Tony gets up out of his cot, or down from the table, or out of the many positions he finds himself during the day, and sits down in one of the two chair before passing out.
Tony will wake up in exactly two hours, touch his face with shaking hands and then fall back into a restless sleep.
Gibbs watches every night.
****
Gibbs tosses down an egg mcmuffin and tries not to be too amused when Tony looks at him speculatively and says, “Sorry. I’m watching my figure.”
Gibbs takes the sandwich out and takes a bite. His second offer gets him a disgusted grimace.
“It’s been in your mouth.” Tony gags dramatically. “It’s all covered in your DNA.”
Put that way the idea really is disgusting. Tony snatches the wrapper and licks off the extra cheese. He smiles and folds the creases.
“So many people have touched it,” Tony says as he folds the yellow paper. “The person who handles the original paper, the person who puts it in the box, the person who unloads the box, the people who make the sandwiches and put them in the bag, you, whoever you are, and now me.”
For someone so concerned about DNA Tony is still perfectly content to fold the wrapper into a hat and wear it for the rest of the session.
When Gibbs asks what Tony thinks about all those different people he gets a long, blank stare.
“What people?” Tony asks.
****
Tony sings numbers in the shower and always looks a little surprised when no one writes them down.
****
Gibbs spends a weekend sleeping, because he’s found that he can’t keep up with Tony and Tony’s incongruities. He’s tried, god how he’s tried, but Gibbs falls asleep in one of the back chairs of MTAC and no one bothers to wake him.
The gunfire, explosives, blabbering bureaucrats...it all adds up to more peaceful dreams than Tony’s helpless madness.
Gibbs awakes when the director shakes him with concerned eyes.
“There’s been a problem.” She says. “Tony-”
Gibbs is up and gone before the other shoe drops.
****
Tony is broken and bloody in the nurse’s room.
“Hat trick, touchdown, three-pointer, home run,” Tony says loudly as they set his bones, sweating and shaking rough. He yells. “Oh no, the clock is running out!”
There’s a crunch as they push his femur back into the correct position. “Checkmate.” Tony whimpers. “Oh, fuck.”
“What happened?!” Gibbs can’t help but yell. Two nights. Two goddamned nights. “What the hell happened?”
One of the nurses looks up as she administers something from a startlingly large syringe.
“Tony,” She says shortly, “Decided to rack up some extracurricular points.”
“Why?” Gibbs had thought he was safe. Suicide hadn’t been on Tony’s profile. The nurse, the blonde, looks up with accusing eyes as if to say, ‘you know perfectly well why’.
Tony looks up, eyes dilated and reeling. “Oh hey Boss, how was the vacation? Missed you. Got really, really bored without all that sitting.”
Gibbs walks forward and grabs the curve of his jaw as gently as his anger will allow him to.
“I didn’t leave, damn you. I was only sleeping.” Gibbs’s voice is hoarse and unbelieving.
“Sleeping me off.” Tony lolls. “Sleeping me all away.”
“Fuck you, you selfish asshole.” Gibbs snarls. This at least gets Tony’s attention. Tony actually has the gall to look hurt. Gibbs pokes his chest hard enough that he’ll feel it through the drugs and the pain and snarls. “Some of us aren’t batshit. I can’t function on coffee alone.”
Tony makes this little ‘oh’ face, like he honestly hasn’t considered that Gibbs wasn’t more than mortal.
“You do this again and I’ll let you rot alone in that room for the rest of your miserable life.” Gibbs promises. He will not feel guilty.
Tony blinks and smiles. “You do care.”
And then he passes out.
Gibbs sits down on the extra operating table and massages his brow with the overwhelming urge to just let it all go, and then...Tony had called him Boss. Tony had called him Boss.
The last thing Gibbs feels is a sharp prick as the pretty blonde uses her skills exquisitely.
“We’ll keep you both under at the same time.” She promises with understanding hands. “Rest.”
Gibbs can do nothing but comply.
****
Neither of them mention Tony’s cast. Gibbs just sits and stares and wonders exactly when it was that Tony started paying attention to the curve of his face and the timber of his voice. Gibbs has been neutral to Tony for a long time.
Or at least Gibbs had thought he was neutral. Boss. It echos through his mind over and over again. Gibbs can’t help but smile.
Tony flinches like he’s been slapped.
A new day. A better day.
“Good morning.” Gibbs tells him.
“Good morning.” Tony says back, a perfect mimic and a familiar eagerness to his eyes. This is the beginning of the end and Gibbs can start to take him home, one word at a time.
