Chapter 5

Tony's return to consciousness was brief but spectacular. He'd struggled a little, settling only when he heard Gibbs and Ducky's voices before collapsing back into unconsciousness a few minutes later. Eight hours had now passed and the younger man was still unconscious. While he was still, Gibbs had talked himself hoarse, had pushed himself beyond exhaustion, knowing Tony needed him. The coffee and Caf Pow Jenny had sent were gone now and the only indication Gibbs had that time had passed were the movement of the hour and minute hands on his watch.

Abby was curled up on his lap, having come back just after Tony had awakened, barely getting a glimpse of his emerald eyes before they fluttered shut. They spoke to him together throughout the night, Abby rambling on about this club or that band she wanted Tony to check out. Ducky joined in with stories from his past. Normally Gibbs would have shushed the ramblings but right now they were his lifeline. And quite possibly Tony's.

Their voices meant he didn't have to think too hard, didn't have to catalogue DiNozzo's injuries and what it all meant. They'd changed a couple of the bandages in his presence and he was horrified by what he saw. And Jethro Gibbs did not horrify easily. He remembered what Ducky had said about it being a marathon and finally realized what that meant, the truth of his friend's words.

It wasn't enough that Tony had awakened; he had to heal. He had to heal! He was a fighter. Gibbs knew the kid had guts. Now he just needed strength and they would give it to him. They had to. A life without Tony was unfathomable.

"My turn, Duck," he interrupted, his own panic starting again. He shifted a sleepy Abby—there wasn't enough Caf Pow in the world to keep her going forever—and stood on cramped legs, taking the chair right by the bed that Ducky had vacated and sinking into it.

He started stroking what he was beginning to think of as his spot, that section of skin covered with surprisingly soft hair that bordered Tony's collarbone. Tony was still a little cool to the touch but Ducky had assured Gibbs that it was normal given the blood loss.

He touched Tony gently but firmly, letting him know more with touch than with words that he was there. He couldn't talk intimately with Ducky and Abby here. Those words were for him and Tony only.

"Jethro, don't you think you ought to get some rest in a proper bed. You hardly have a voice any longer."

Jethro shook his head, setting his jaw firmly.

"Oh, my dear Jethro, you really must—"

"Save it, Duck. When he's awake, we'll talk. Until then, here is the only place for me."

Ducky arched an eyebrow. "So if you were to get the news that the monsters who put Tony here had been ... Jethro! Sit down! They haven't. Remember? Richmond Vice didn't have any luck last night. They're trying again tonight."

He felt like a fool but settled back down. "Duck, take Abbs somewhere where she can stretch out. Give me an hour or two with Tony here."

Ducky started to protest and Gibbs shook his head, waving off his friend's concern. "No, Duck. Don't argue it. Last time, I got him to the surface. Can't argue with those results." The hint of a self-satisfied smirk started to appear before he crushed it.

Once Ducky and Abby were gone, he tugged the other chair over and rested his feet on it, extending his hand again and finding another of his areas on Tony, the right bicep, just above where the IV line was taped against his skin.

"Gonna make it, Tony. We're gonna make it, work it all out." He rested his hand on Tony and closed his eyes but before he could find any more words, exhaustion finally claimed him.

Tony had been watching and listening as much as he could. At the diner he'd found himself back in the darkness, whatever sort of astral projection had brought him there ending or going wrong. So he'd drifted. He wasn't in pain and sometimes he heard and understood what they were saying. Abby wanting to take him to a new club, Ducky's story about the healing powers of pygmy goat milk, and Gibbs' encouragement even as his voice got more and more hoarse.

Tony knew Gibbs wasn't gay or bi and yet the man had said they'd figure it out. Tony wasn't quite sure what that meant but he wanted to reassure the older man. He had a lot of time to think and wondered if he could pay a visit to Gibbs in his dreams.

Tony got the opportunity when Gibbs drifted off into a deep sleep. He didn't know how he knew these things, but then again he didn't know how he'd connected with Kate and he sure had. Some things were beyond his comprehension or at least his consciousness.

Right where Gibbs was touching him tingled and Tony focused his energy there, feeling himself becoming misty, much as he had beforehand. Then all of a sudden he was in Gibbs' basement, the other man stroking the ribs of his boat.

"Hey, Boss."

Gibbs' head snapped up. "Tony! You're here!" His voice was higher pitched, almost excited, something Tony couldn't remember hearing in years. Gibbs took two steps closer and then stopped suddenly, extending his hand. "You are here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, much as I can be, I guess." Looking at Gibbs in this place had his every vulnerability coming to the surface. "Boss, I'm scared. I messed up bad and I'm scared." His voice was shaking.