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A Cry for Help

by: Patricia (Send Feedback)

Series: - No Series - #1
Chapters: 039 Word Count: 112820
Rating: TEEN
Warning(s): Disturbing Imagery or Content
Character(s): Tony DiNozzo
Category(ies): Angst/Drama
Pairing(s): - No Pairing -
Summary: Tony's world is crashing down around him, but he doesn't believe his friends can help. He turns to someone unexpected for help, but will it be enough to save him?

Author Notes: This is my first attempt at a NCIS fic. I hope you enjoy it. Unfortunately, I do not own these characters.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39

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Part 1




Anthony DiNozzo ran a trembling hand through his disheveled hair as he studied his pale reflection in the bathroom mirror. The result of his latest concussion was evident by the bandage on his forehead, covering the gash that was being held together by fifteen stitches. He had checked himself out of the hospital AMA and taken a cab to his apartment. Tony had made it no further than his couch before he willingly succumbed to the darkness that had been beckoning him since he left the hospital. He had known that he shouldn’t fall asleep, especially without someone to wake him every hour, but at that particular moment, he hadn’t cared.

Now, a couple of hours later, he was standing in front of his bathroom mirror after being awakened by the incessant ringing of his cell phone. He had clumsily reached for it to check the caller ID. Tony had slung the phone across the room after discovering that it had been Vance trying to call him. Director Vance was the last person Tony wanted to talk to.

Tony gripped the sink as he fought against the dizziness and nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. After a few seconds, he lifted his head, careful to move slowly so he wouldn’t exacerbate the pounding in his skull, and stared at the haunted eyes that seemed to look right through him. Who was this man in the mirror? It wasn’t Special Agent Anthony D. DiNozzo, that much was for certain. Tony was beginning to wonder if that man even existed anymore.

Glancing at his watch, he squinted to force the numbers to come into focus. It was almost 6:30 and he was supposed to be in the office at 7:00. He was going to be late for work and then Gibbs would not be happy. An angry Boss was not something that he wanted to face this morning, especially with the drum and bugle corps playing in his head. Besides being late, he was going to have to explain to Gibbs how he got yet another concussion and that he had received the concussion on another undercover assignment that Gibbs knew nothing about.

Tony had vowed that after the fiasco of La Grenouille that his days of going undercover for anyone but Gibbs were over. But then Vance…

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered to himself.

He bent over and placed his head on the cool tile and closed his eyes. “I can’t do it, Boss. Not anymore.”

Tony forced himself to stand back up and opened his eyes. “I’ve got to get out of here. I need to think.

The dizziness was not easing up, but he knew that he could not give in. Using his hand, he clung to the wall as he slowly made his way back towards his living room. “Come on DiNozzo, you’ve had worse than this. Quit being so pathetic!” he growled.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tony reached the couch. He gingerly sat down and cradled his aching head in his hands. He was aware of what he needed to do, but now he had to summon up the courage to do it. He sighed as he fumbled for the cordless phone on his coffee table.

He carefully dialed the familiar number and waited with baited breath until he heard the clipped voice of Jethro Gibbs.

“Gibbs.”

Tony swallowed nervously. “Hey Boss. I…I…uh…”

“Spit it out, DiNozzo!” the gruff voice ordered.

“I’m not going to make it into work today.”

The distinct pause on the other end almost made Tony hang up, but if he did that, Gibbs would definitely know something was wrong. All Tony was trying to do was buy himself some time.

“Are you all right?” Gibbs finally asked.

“Yeah, Boss. It’s just…a…migraine,” Tony replied. “I’m just going to go back to bed and sleep it off.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Tony couldn’t believe that Gibbs had just agreed to give him the day off.

“Did I stutter, DiNozzo?”

“Uh, no Boss. I just…”

“Migraines are a bitch, DiNozzo. I’ll call you if we get anything.”

“Sure, Boss. Thanks. I…”

It was too late. Gibbs had already hung up on his end. Tony hit the off button and placed the phone on the cushion beside him. He shakily rose to his feet, wincing as the movement sent shards of pain through his head.

“I should have never made that call. Gibbs will be here any minute,” he chastised himself. “I can’t deal with seeing him.” He didn’t want to see the hurt and confusion in the eyes of the one man that he had come to think of as a father. Gibbs, in his own unusual way, would want to help him. How could anyone help him if he didn’t know what was wrong?

He carefully bent down and picked up his bag that he had deposited on the floor earlier that morning. Turning off the light, Tony grabbed his jacket and locked the door behind him. He had no idea where he was going, but it really didn’t matter. He just had to go somewhere and try to get his head on straight. He needed to look for what was left of Anthony DiNozzo, but he wasn’t sure that he wanted to find him.

Tony had to hug the wall once again as he slowly made his way down the hall. Once he was in the elevator, he leaned against the metal partition, grateful for the brief respite. He swallowed the bile in his throat as the elevator lurched to a stop.

The doors opened and he stumbled outside. He knew that he was in no condition to drive, so his only option was to hail a cab. Disgusted by the feeling of helplessness, Tony hailed the next cab.

He opened the door and slid into the backseat.

“Where to?” the cab driver asked.

“Just drive,” Tony answered, laying his head against the seat.

“Which direction?”

“Take me to the bus station.”


XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


Leroy Jethro Gibbs winced as he snapped his phone shut. His senior field agent has just called in sick for the first time since Tony had started working for NCIS. DiNozzo had been placed on medical leave before, but he had never willingly called in sick. Tony was always pushing himself beyond his physical limits, just like when he came back a week early after having the plague.

Something wasn’t right. Actually, now that Gibbs looked back over the past few weeks, something hadn’t been right for quite a while. Tony had changed. There was something that was eating away at Tony and although the charismatic young man had apparently been able to fool most of his co-workers, Gibbs had not been so easily misled. It was his eyes. Tony’s eyes were no longer full of life as they had once been; his eyes reminded him of a man who no longer had anything left to cling to.

Gibb’s strides were purposeful and determined as he walked past Ziva and McGee on his way to his desk. “DiNozzo’s out sick today,” he announced.

He didn’t have to see the expression on his other team members faces to know that they were as surprised as he had been.

“Tony’s not coming in today?” Ziva clarified.

“That’s what I said.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Migraine.”

“A migraine? I’ve never known Tony to have migraines, unless he’s been hit on the head.”

“Well, evidently, he’s got one.”

“Does he need anything?”

“I didn’t ask. I’m sure if he needs something, he’ll call.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“Officer David, is there a reason that you are repeating everything I say?” Gibbs tersely demanded.

“I just find it unusual that Tony called in. As long as I’ve known him, he’s…”

“I’m aware of that, Ziva.”

“Don’t you find it odd that…”

Gibbs glared at the Mossad officer. “What I find odd is that you’re not at your desk, finishing the report that I wanted on my desk yesterday!”

“Of course, Gibbs.”

He turned his attention to his computer as Ziva retreated to her desk. Gibbs could feel McGee’s concerned gaze shift between him and Ziva.

“Do you have anything to add, McGee?”

“Uh, no Boss. Nothing to add,” McGee stammered.

Frustrated, Gibbs rose from his seat and headed towards the elevator. “I’m going for coffee!”

As the doors to elevator closed, Gibbs spared one last glance at the bewildered expression on David’s and McGee’s faces. He was sure that as soon as he was completely out of sight, that they would be calling Tony to check on him and warn him that he was coming over. His team had not been fooled by the claim that he was going to get coffee. Of course, he would make sure that he came back with a cup in hand and if he was feeling generous, maybe one for Ziva and McGee. Right now, he could not ignore the feeling in his gut that something was wrong with DiNozzo and it wasn’t just a migraine.


XXXXXXXXXXXXXX


“He’s not answering either phone,” Ziva said.

“Maybe he’s asleep,” McGee surmised.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. I don’t think that he would be cutting logs so loudly that he didn’t hear either phone.”

“Sawing,” he corrected.

“Whatever. The point is, he’s not answering his phone. Maybe he’s not home.” Ziva walked over to McGee’s desk and stood behind him. “See if you can pull up his coordinates with his cell phone.”

Ziva was always amazed that with just a few strokes of the keyboard, McGee seemed to make anything magically appear. However, this time, there was an apparent problem. “What’s wrong?” she pressed.

“Uh…his cell must be turned off,” McGee replied.

“Tony never turns his cell off. That would be breaking one of Gibbs’ rules.”

“Wait a minute,” McGee began.

“What is it?”

“I just pulled his cell phone records and the last call that was made to Tony’s phone was from here.”

Ziva leaned in closer to the computer screen. “That’s the Director’s line.”

She and McGee stared at the screen in disbelief. Ziva studied the computer screen for another second before lifting her gaze towards the upper level that housed the Director’s office. “Vance was the last one to talk to Tony. That doesn’t make sense.”

“We should tell Gibbs,” McGee stated.

“You’re right. You call him,” she quickly ordered.

“Me?”

“Yes, you are the senior agent in this office at the moment.”

“But…”

“Just do it.”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

She continued staring at the office door of Director Vance as McGee called Gibbs. What was going on between Vance and Tony? The two of them seemed to only tolerate each other at the best of times. Ziva turned her attention back to McGee’s one sided conversation.

“Boss? We’ll we found something a little unusual,” McGee began. “What? You want us over at Tony’s. Is he all right?”

Ziva felt as if she were going to be sick. She was right. There was something strange about this entire situation. Her eyes narrowed as McGee hung up. “What’s wrong?” she pressed.

“Tony’s not at home. Gibbs found his cell phone smashed against the wall. He wants us to come over there. I didn’t even get a chance to tell him about Vance.”

"You can tell him when we get there. Come on, I’m driving.”

Ziva ignored the look of fear on McGee’s face at the proclamation that she was driving. She didn’t have time to worry about his queasy stomach, Ziva just wanted to get to Tony’s as fast as she could.

Grabbing her coat, she didn’t have to look behind her to see if McGee was coming. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, Tony was not only an integral part of their team, but he was a member of their family. Family was supposed to look out for one another and she could not shake the feeling that they had not done a good job of looking after one Anthony DiNozzo.



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