"Boss, they've made me!" Tony whispered over the michrophone.

"He's been made! Let's go!" Gibbs yelled. In his earplug, he could hear sounds and yelling, grunts and curses, thumps and groans and he ran even fast, "go go go!" Gibbs yelled, "FEDERAL AGENTS, DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" Gibbs yelled as they came inside. Two guns. Gibbs doubletapped one in the chest and head, Ziva the other one. There was a lump on the floor, which Gibbs sneaked over to. Tony. Gibbs felt his way up to th carthoid artery, but his fingers slipped in something wet Most likely blood, but Gibbs couldn't see it in the darkness. "Keep searching!" Gibbs ordered a worried Ziva and an even more worried McGee. Finally he found the elusive artery and let out a breath of relief. There was a strong thum thum thump to let him know his senior field agent was still alive.

"It's all clear" Ziva said and flicked on the light. McGee gasped at the sight in front of them. Tony was laying on his side, right hand almost fully stretched out, gun still in hand, left arm behind his body, legs slightly bent at the knees, in his armani suit, blood steadily rolling down from his forehead onto the sement under him. But what had them so shocked was that Tony's eyes were half open, but clearly not focussing on anything. The split lip and shiners did nothing to decrease the shock. Gibbs cursed under his breath.

"Tony, Tony can you hear me?" Gibbs asked, patting Tony's cheeck slightly. Nothing other than a sudden gargle sound from Tony's throat, and blood coming out.

"He can't cough" Ziva said worriedly, "Here, let me help" she said and knelt in front of Tony's body, and with the guided help of Gibbs, they got Tony raised into a sitting position, before leaning him forwards, watching blood seep down from between his lips. Ziva looked away.

"I've called an ambulance boss, ETA seven minutes" McGee said. Gibbs cursed. Too long.

"We don't have that much time! Ziva! Drive, McGee, open the car door and put the backseat down! NOW!" Gibbs ordered. Ziva ran, and McGee ran, and Gibbs got up, gently putting his arms under Tony's limp body, and hoisted him up. Once he had Tony secure in his arms, he started walking. Tony's head rested limply against Gibbs's shoulder, eyes half open and staring at nothing at all, "Come on Tony, that head of yours is thick, I know they didn't cause any serious damage in there" Gibbs murmured, hoping Tony would make some sort of remark about that. Needless to say, it didn't happen. Gibbs reached the door and carried Tony out into the chilly wind of fall, walking over to the Sedan, and as he placed Tony carefully into the backroom, which was bigger because Mcgee had put the backseat down, he shuddered. Not the cold. Shock. Gibbs climbed in. "McGee! Stay!" Gibbs growled. McGee simply nodded and smacked the door closed, and Ziva sped off so fast Gibbs lost his balance, falling flat on his ass.

"Sorry" Ziva said from the drivers seat.

"Just drive!" Gibbs growled. He looked at Tony again and hoisted him up into a sitting position, "Come on Tony, I need you to blink, come on" Gibbs said. He felt for the pulse again. Softer. Slower. Not good. Shock. Gibbs somehow managed to get out of his jacket, and placed it on top of Tony. He sighed as he felt the spiky hair, now sticky and rubbery with blood against his chin.

"We're here" Ziva said and the car jolted to a stop. The backdoor went up, and suddenly everything became a blur for Gibbs. Tony was whisked away ad Ziva was telling him she would go park while he went inside and she'd call Ducky and they'd.. he didn't catch the rest.

He jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"How is he Jethro?" Ducky asked. Gibbs looked up at him, shrugged, and hen stared back down into the full papercup of hospital issued WW2 coffee he held with both hands. Ducky replaced it with a larger papercup and Gibbs heard Ducky sit down in the chair next to him, "What does your gut tell you?" Ducky asked silently. Gibbs sipped the coffee and sat back in the chair, staring at the wall opposite them, finding a black spot on the old wall.

"My gut" Gibbs said, "tells me I should eat" he said.

"Right" Ducky said. Ducky knew why Gibbs hadn't answered his question. He knew why Gibbs was talking even less than usual. He was worried. Not only because he did not know what Anthony's condition was, but, as Ducky knew, Gibbs had seen a lot of his men and other men, die. And right now, Gibbs had the same look in his eyes he had when he had heldt Terry while she drew her final breaths. Another Senior Field Agent.

Maybe.

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AN: You loved it. My current story fearing the darkness is being totally trashed by... ME!!! But I'm gonna keep writing on it and hope to fix it, swear to God! Sequels are never as good as the first one sigh might need to replace some chapters...

Disclaimer: Al hail DPB.