6. onlyonechoice Any one of the NCIS crew, post season ender, in therapy (either on orders or voluntarily). Something about them dealing with the trauma.
Tony tried not to fidget as he waited for Dr. Cranston. She’d been assigned to clear the team back for field work—those members of the team who could be cleared right now.
Which was him and Gibbs.
Ziva had broken her leg badly when the elevator had fallen. Tony’d landed on top of her, breaking her tibia in three places. She’d be fine but would be on desk duty for at least six weeks.
And McGee. He’d had three surgeries thus far, to repair his eyes, damaged when the huge widows had exploded. He would be okay, but twenty-twenty vision was probably not in the cards for him.
Abby, Gibbs, Vance, and Ned—temporarily assigned to their team—were okay. They’d been lucky. Abby’s hearing had gone out for an entire day, and she’d had some mandatory sessions with Dr. Cranston herself. She was having a tough time, but she’d always been the most fragile of them all.
Gibbs had only taken cuts and bruises, and Tony’s lungs had been bad for a few days, but he was fine, all things considered.
Ducky was recovering at home, Palmer working the medical examiner position. There was talk Ducky might come back in an administrative role, but…time would tell there.
So the team was shattered, and more than that, the heart of the team—Abbs—was on shaky ground. She’d been sleeping at Gibbs’ most nights and Tony wasn’t supposed to know that she was drinking a couple of shots to go to sleep.
All that didn’t matter—he needed to be field cleared for Gibbs, for Abbs. For Ned. Hell, for McGee and Ziva.
Tony stifled his sigh, rubbing the back of his head and his leg jogged up and down, despite his best intentions. There was so much energy—so much anger—inside him. The FBI was going after Dearing now, while Tony and Gibbs sat on the sidelines.
They needed to take him down—he and Gibbs did.
For McGee.
For Ziva.
For the seventeen people that Dearing had murdered in cold blood, and Cole, who’d died a hero.
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In Therapy Part 1
Date: 2012-08-20 02:48 am (UTC)Tony tried not to fidget as he waited for Dr. Cranston. She’d been assigned to clear the team back for field work—those members of the team who could be cleared right now.
Which was him and Gibbs.
Ziva had broken her leg badly when the elevator had fallen. Tony’d landed on top of her, breaking her tibia in three places. She’d be fine but would be on desk duty for at least six weeks.
And McGee. He’d had three surgeries thus far, to repair his eyes, damaged when the huge widows had exploded. He would be okay, but twenty-twenty vision was probably not in the cards for him.
Abby, Gibbs, Vance, and Ned—temporarily assigned to their team—were okay. They’d been lucky. Abby’s hearing had gone out for an entire day, and she’d had some mandatory sessions with Dr. Cranston herself. She was having a tough time, but she’d always been the most fragile of them all.
Gibbs had only taken cuts and bruises, and Tony’s lungs had been bad for a few days, but he was fine, all things considered.
Ducky was recovering at home, Palmer working the medical examiner position. There was talk Ducky might come back in an administrative role, but…time would tell there.
So the team was shattered, and more than that, the heart of the team—Abbs—was on shaky ground. She’d been sleeping at Gibbs’ most nights and Tony wasn’t supposed to know that she was drinking a couple of shots to go to sleep.
All that didn’t matter—he needed to be field cleared for Gibbs, for Abbs. For Ned. Hell, for McGee and Ziva.
Tony stifled his sigh, rubbing the back of his head and his leg jogged up and down, despite his best intentions. There was so much energy—so much anger—inside him. The FBI was going after Dearing now, while Tony and Gibbs sat on the sidelines.
They needed to take him down—he and Gibbs did.
For McGee.
For Ziva.
For the seventeen people that Dearing had murdered in cold blood, and Cole, who’d died a hero.