One from the now defunct NCIS fanfiction Archive site - my first ever posted fanfic. Some minor editing changes to make it readable. McGee's voice is no longer 'horse' - neigh...

Initiation

The warehouse was heavily populated with large wooden crates full of contraband, stacked two or three high in places. In this jungle, the three agents waited. They knew their prey lurked somewhere nearby. Tony caught Ziva's eye and motioned with his head for her to move around to the large open door. Then he signalled McGee to follow him and they slowly stalked their way through the maze.

For a split second there was a motion across the warehouse and four guns started blazing. Tony spun as McGee uttered a muffled cry and reeled backward to the ground clutching his right shoulder. A second later, a body flashed out the door quickly followed by Ziva's slight form.

"Damit, McGee," Tony swore as he swooped upon his prostrate form.

But McGee, his face contorted with pain, was not in the mood to be chastised. His left hand clung desperately to his right shoulder but it was not enough to stem the blood which was coursing between his fingers and down the front of his NCIS jacket.

Ziva appeared at the open door and stormed her way towards them. "Tony, McGee, where were you? He got away." She stopped short as her eyes adjusted to the light and she recognised the scene. Her tone changed abruptly. "I'll be right back," she said, turning and sprinting for the door again.

McGee writhed on the ground, groaning in pain.

"Let me look," said Tony but McGee steadfastly refused to loosen his grip, grimacing and straining with pain.

"Look at the bright side," Tony began. "The department forks out for a new suit if you destroy it in the line of duty. Then, man I'm going to take you shopping. Enough with the loose baggy brown look, my man, we're going to a real suit shop. I think we should go tailored, something in a dark grey…"

"What are you doing, Tony?" asked Ziva as she dumped the large plastic first aid kit on the ground at McGee's side.

"Just looking at the silver lining," he replied. "Hey Probie, a silver lining on that new grey suit."

Ziva gave an exasperated sigh and tuned McGee's face to her to try to gain his full attention. He opened his eyes to a slit and sucked the air noisily through his teeth.

Ziva spoke deliberately undoing the plastic catch of the first aid box and levering out the layers as she spoke. "The ambulance is on its way; meanwhile I need to check that shoulder."

She moved to release his hand but McGee uttered a small cry and renewed his grip. "McGee, I have to look."

He tried to writhe away from her but Tony held him in place.

Ziva took a deep breath and blew it out again. She scanned the contents of the box until she spied two things she wanted. First she held up a large knife for McGee's inspection. His eyes opened wide in fear but his left hand did not budge. She replaced the knife and picked up a large bottle of liquid.

"I'm just going to disinfect the wound," she said in a slow calculating voice. "You may leave your hand there if you wish."

McGee's breath came in short pants but his eye's watched her intently as she unscrewed the bottle and placed the lid carefully on the ground. She caught Tony's eye and nodded.

In a split second she had poured the searing disinfectant on McGee's raw wounds. He screamed in pain, convulsed once and passed out.

"Right," said Ziva stoically, "let us see what we have got."

She removed McGee's now limp hand from the wound.

"You don't think that wasn't a trifle harsh?" remarked Tony.

"I haven't even begun," she replied ominously, picking up the knife again.

With four quick strokes, she had ripped away the remnants of McGee's NCIS jacket and suit shoulder revealing an ever increasing pool of blood. She took a giant gauze pad and soaked up as much as she could before running an experienced eye over the area.

"OK, there are two wounds," she began prodding McGee's arm. "This first one on the upper arm is just a flesh wound; bullet has gone straight through, no bone and all meat." She seemed vaguely disappointed. "A simple pad will do this." She taped a gauze pad around his arm that almost immediately stemmed the flow of blood.

Then she turned her attention to a well of blood on McGee's chest, close to his shoulder.

"But this one," she enthused, "has penetrated." Her eyes lit up gleefully. "Maybe rib, punctured lung…." She took another large gauze pad and wiped the excess blood away then looked up at Tony with fire in her eyes. "I could use the knife to dig out the bullet."

"Yo, Hawkeye, this ain't a war zone," he warned.

Ziva pouted but relented and taped a large pad over the gaping hole just as McGee began to regain consciousness. It took a few seconds between his glazed eyes opening and the reawakening of his pain sensors but this time his merely groaned and did not make an attempted to grasp his shoulder.

Tony removed his NCIS jacket as the younger agent beginning to shiver.

"That's just the shock setting in," he said gently, placing his jacket over McGee's torso. "One day, Probie, you'll look back on this as the FIRST time you were shot." Still grimacing, McGee closed his eyes and his breathing began to get laboured. He coughed once and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. Tony looked up at Ziva who silently returned his worried gaze.

"Hang in there Probie," Tony reassured him. "Help is on the way."

"In fact, they're here," said Ziva, urgently leaping to her feet and racing back out the door.

In less than a minute she was dragging a paramedic by the wrist to where McGee lay. She had obviously filled him in on the details of the injuries because he came prepared.

Whipping out a stethoscope, he listened briefly at McGee's chest then quickly unwrapped a sterile bag and tube with a large needle attached.

"You're bleeding into your chest cavity," he informed McGee. "I'm going to insert a needle to relieve the pressure."

McGee nodded his head curtly but did not open his eyes.

"It's going to hurt for a moment but then it's going to make breathing a whole lot easier."

There was a sudden groan from McGee as the needle was jabbed in. Bright red fluid shot up the small tube and into the clear plastic bag. The effect on McGee's breathing was immediate. He opened his eyes briefly and gave a hoarse, "thanks."

A moment later, McGee was out the warehouse, in the ambulance and on his way to hospital.

Tony let out a low whistle and eased himself into a sitting position. Ziva slowly repacked the first aid kit.

"Do you want to tell Gibbs, or should I?" she said without looking up.

He regarded her briefly and flipped out his cell phone.

"Gibbs," came the abrupt answer.

"Hey boss," replied Tony's drained voice.

"You lost him, didn't you?"

"What? Who?"

"The smuggler, DiNozzo. What have you been up to?"

"Oh yeah we lost him but boss…."

"This better be good DiNozzo."

"He shot McGee."

There was a pause at the other end.

In the lab Jethro Gibbs moved casually, yet quickly out of Abby's earshot.

"How bad?" he asked sotto voice.

"You're in the lab, aren't you?

"I said, 'how bad' Dinozzo," Gibbs hissed into his cell phone.

"Not too bad, two shots to the right shoulder, one's a flesh wound, the others a bit more serious. He's stable and on his way to hospital."

"I'll meet you there."

Gibbs hung up the phone and dropped it in his pocket. Looking up he met Abby's green eyes at close quarters.

"So who stuffed up?"

Gibbs regarded her silently for a moment which was enough to start her on the way to hysteria.

"Oh my God, Gibbs, did someone get killed? Oh, hold on, you were talking to Tony so it can't be him. Ziva, my God, Gibbs is she OK? Tell me she's OK."

"Abby, calm down, he's going to be OK"

"Who?"

"McGee."

Abby stopped dead in her tracks. "No, it can't be,"she stated simply and walked off back to her bench.

"Excuse me?" said Gibbs incredulously following her.

Abby turned to him and explained as she would to a child, counting off on her fingers. "McGee doesn't get hurt. Tony gets chained to bad guys, Tony gets kidnapped, Tony and Ziva get locked in boxes: not McGee. McGee and I track down the bad guys. That's how it works. McGee can't get hurt."

Gibbs eyebrows knitted, "Abby, he was shot, twice, in the right shoulder. He's on his way to hospital; he is going to be fine."

"No," she said defiantly. Then she looked at him with glistening eyes. "No," she whispered and buried her head in his shoulder.

Mc Gee awoke to the smell of hospital clean, the glare of stark white and the sounds of beeping machines. His first response was one of embarrassment. The last time this happened, he had gone to see his cousin in hospital, passed out and ended up in the bed next to him. The next response was panic: after that event he never went willingly into a hospital. Someone REALLY close to him must be hurt. Then slowly the realisation that he was in here for his own well-being. Memories from a darkened warehouse flooded back.

He looked around the room. He was alone save the beeping machines. There was a large bandage across his right shoulder and a tube leading from his chest to a bag. The sight made his stomach churn and he turned urgently to stare at the door. Abruptly it opened and Tony walked in carrying a large pizza box and munching on a slice of what looked like super supreme.

"Heeeey, Probie," he said through a mouthful of food. "You're awake."

He flopped into the chair next to the bed and offered McGee the pizza box. "Come on, you know you want it."

McGee almost retched and turned his head back to stare resolutely at the tube. Realising what he was staring at, he rolled his eyes at his own folly and turned back to Tony who was wisely putting the box on the floor.

"So, how's the shoulder?"

McGee considered for a moment. "Actually, it's OK."

"Yeah, hospital meds are great, aren't they," Tony reminisced over a fresh slice. "Oh, you'll be pleased to know the shot didn't do a Gerald on you. Missed the joint completely, you'll be back at work in no time."

"How long is 'no time', precisely," McGee inquired.

"You'd have to ask a quack, but in my extensive experience: about a week in here, then continuing physio, maybe some half days…I'd say return to full work in a month."

McGee turned on his back to look at the ceiling. "I suppose I can live with that."

"Of course, it won't turn out like that," Tony continued. "Bosses laptop died yesterday, so you can bet he'll be bringing that into the hospital tomorrow. Abby's a mess, by the way. Simply cannot work. Seems she thought you were protected by some geek superpower so that you could never be injured."

McGee snorted, "Proved her wrong."

"She's all, 'I'm definitely going to visit McGee', then all, 'No, I can't see him like that'. It's driving us all nuts."

"Poor Abs," McGee sympathised. He looked down and was shocked to see a catheter running out the side of the bed sheets. He really didn't want anyone to see him like this.

"Poor Abs! What about us!" Tony whined.

McGee raised an eyebrow at him. Tony stooped to get another piece of pizza. Although Tony started talking again, McGee found he was unable to understand the words. Slowly the room darkened and he found himself unwillingly drifting off again.

Tony watched as McGee's eyelids slowly lowered, his head slumped to one side and his breathing deepened. Then he stood, collected his nearly empty pizza box and stood at McGee's side.

"Get some rest," he said quietly touching McGee's good shoulder. "It's a long road from here and we really need you back at the ranch."

Then he left quietly to ring Gibbs and the others with his news.

Abby was doing her excited puppy routine on him on his first day at work. Leaping around, hugging him, he was almost sure she licked him once. He'd seen it done to others, now he understood what it was to be welcomed by Abby.

It was not as if she hadn't seen him since the accident. Everyone, in fact, had visited at sometime but Abby had been his lifeline to normality; not only visiting every few days but emailing him juicy gossip and even outsourcing a few computer jobs while he was still recuperating at home. Without her, he was certain he would have gone stir crazy.

His right arm was still in a sling but it was more of a reminder to be careful than a necessity. Not that it was reminding Abby.

"Abby, Abby, clam down," he said finally, a small smile forming on his lips. "I'm fine."

"I know," she squealed. "I'm just so happy you're back."

She gave another squeal, gave him a bear hug which nearly dislocated both the good and bad shoulders, kissed him on the forehead and bounced off to the elevator.

"McGee," called Gibbs appearing from nowhere as usual. "You're confined to desk duty until further notice."

McGee looked crestfallen but rallied to give his best, 'yes boss', and sat at his desk.

"Not YOUR desk, McGee," Gibbs grumped. "Mine. That wretched laptop packed up the moment you left and no one can get the damn thing to work. Do you have some 'grandfather's clock' thing going with that machine?"

Another smile played on McGee's lips as he changed desks. "On it, Boss."