Do You Know How to Fall?
by channeld
written for: a friend on the occasion of her birthday, 2010.
rating: T
genre: drama, suspense
prompt given: Timothy McGee/Anthony DiNozzo/glass
disclaimer: I still own nothing of NCIS.
"They're over there! Over there!" Tony hissed, sig in hand.
Tim wished for more weaponry than they had, more backup than they had; wished that this wasn't happening… "Don't charge 'em yet, Tony. We don't know what they're up to."
It was a nightmarish situation, in the middle of the day. NCIS cameras had revealed trespassers on the roof of the HQ building—several heavily armed men, carrying…something. Something unlikely to be good. With Gibbs and Ziva away in Virginia gathering evidence for a case, Vance had sent Tim, Tony, and two other agents to the roof to deal with the intruders.
The black-clad intruders mostly blended in with the gloom on this hot August day. Overhead, dark clouds rolled and occasional distant thunder rumbled.
"Sit rep, McGee," Vance said on the phone.
"I count five of them, Director. They're by the skylights."
"What are they doing? Our cameras aren't getting a good fix. *crackle* There's electromagnetic interference."
"Must be the coming storm. They've lashed a few ropes around the satellite dishes and exhaust pipes, and—it looks like they're going to attempt to go in by *crackle* skylights, or drop something through the skylights! You need to evacuate everyone from the *crackle* under the skylights!"
"On it!"
The NCIS agents were hiding behind chimneys on the roof. So far the intruders hadn't noticed them. "We're going in," Tony hissed, his voice barely audible over the rising wind.
It was one of those situations an agent doesn't like to be in. Sure, they were all wearing vests, but still…a vest wouldn't guard against a shot to the head, or a lot of other places where extensive damage could be done; only most of the sources of immediate death.
"Federal agents! Freeze!" Tony yelled, standing up. Wind whipped loose leaves and dust around all of them.
The intruders responded with gunshots, and the NCIS agents once again ducked for cover. "This is no good," said agent Marcos. "We can't let them play cat-and-mouse with us if they're still going to invade the building via the skylights!"
"And I can't let them mow us down, either," Tony argued. By tacit agreement, he was heading this taskforce. Weird lights played off the skylights; likely, lightning in the clouds.
"It's us they get, or a lot of innocent people inside," Tim shot back. "I don't want that on my conscience."
"Phoo. Conscience, schmoncience…" Tony blustered, his way of agreeing. But he was surprised when Tim took the lead in breaking from cover with a yell, running headlong at the intruders. "Hey!" Tony cried. Then he and the other agents followed.
The intruders looked like they were about to smash open the skylights and drop something through them. Tim's charge had them stop and start to fire. One bullet bounced off the edge of Tim's vest, but he kept running and firing. One intruder went down. Then, another! But then there was a sudden, stumbling shot of pain as a bullet caught Tim's leg. He tried to maintain his balance, but fell—
—onto one of the skylights—
—and there was Tony, right behind him, grabbing for him, crying, "McGee! NO! The glass won't hold your weight—", and yet unable to keep from falling onto it, too. With one hand he grabbed for Tim, and with his other he struggled to reach a trailing rope that the intruders had tied to an exhaust pipe.
Below, it was the scene that nobody wanted to see, as one of the big, beautiful skylight windows above the squad room shattered suddenly under the two men, and they fell—
—moderately; jerked back by Tony's one-handed grip on the rope.
Several people (who shouldn't have been in the squad room, but who had ignored orders to vacate it) screamed as the two men dangled some 50 feet over the floor.
Tim gasped, stung by the glass cuts, his leg wound, and the excitement. "Tony. Crap."
"Shut up, Probie; let me think. This isn't starting out well, I know."
Tim laughed shrilly. "Is that all you can say? 'This isn't starting out well.'?"
"Okay, so I'm not as eloquent as you. So sue me."
"No…" Tim's voice was strained now; his arm burning where Tony had a vise grip on his wrist. "Tony, the rope won't hold both of us. You've got to let me go."
"McGee; of all the times that you have irritated me, of all of the times I might have wanted to be free of you—this isn't one of them. Hey! Don't you try to wiggle loose. You've got a free arm. Grab my legs."
"That's stupid. Both of us shouldn't die."
"I don't want either of us to die." Tony looked about for a solution, but nothing came to mind. At least they weren't being attacked from above. Maybe that meant that Marcos and Larbee had bested the intruders. He could only hope. Dang! There must be a solution! A ladder? No, NCIS didn't have anything that big at hand. Any sort of high inside maintenance work had to be done by a contractor. Dang!
"Tony, I appreciate all of this, but…well, it's been great working with you…"
"McGee, hush. Do you know how to fall?"
"Do I know—what?"
"Do you know how to fall?" Tony repeated, a little harshly, and then mentally kicked himself for his tone. "Man; what do they teach you kids at FLETC these days? When I was there, they taught us the best way to fall."
Tim laughed bitterly. "I always thought gravity took care of that."
"Listen to me. There's a good way to fall."
"You mean like, 'If at first you don't succeed, skydiving isn't for you.'?"
Tony ignored that. In the back of his mind, his brain was informing him that the sweat on his hand was becoming slippery mixing with the sweat on Tim's wrist. If only he'd been able to grab Tim's shirt sleeve instead! "You want to land on your feet. That'll absorb a lot of impact. Land with your knees bent." He could hear his class instructor drilling this into him. At the time, he'd been fascinated by it, while hoping he'd never have to put it to use. "Got that?...Come on, McGee! What did I just say?"
"Land with your knees bent. Land on your…feet. Your feet."
"That's it. I know it sounds like it will hurt, but it takes the impact away from the rest of your body. If you can, land on the balls of your feet."
"Balls. Feet balls." A slight giggle.
"Stay with me on this. Then, when you hit, try to roll. Surely you were taught the value of rolling? I've seen you do that."
"Yes…I can roll."
"Good. Tuck your head." Please, God. He could feel Tim's wrist slipping in his grasp; there was nothing he could do to get a better hold.
Please, God. Don't let my friend die.
Below he could see that his coworkers were doing everything they could to make the situation better. Desks and all furniture beneath them, for a large area, had been moved out of the way…all in a few minutes. Two people ran in with a rolled-up mat from the gym, and then dropped and unrolled it. Maybe that would help. Maybe it would be enough.
And then, in a flash, it was over. He lost contact with Tim. Before he could shout, Tim was down…but he would never forget the look of horror on his friend's face as he fell. On the mat below, Tim now lay still.
"DiNozzo!" came a voice above him. "We're sending down another rope. Wrap it around you. We'll pull you up."
"Yeah. Whatever," Tony mumbled. In his mind he knew that there had been no other way; he couldn't have looped another rope around him before without letting go of something vital. Now he was going to be safe. Yet, he couldn't feel sicker about it.
The two agents on the roof pulled Tony back up through the broken skylight. Jagged glass brushed his face and arms, but he barely noticed the pain. Once up, he scrambled to his feet and ran to the door leading off the roof; the way they'd come up. Should he have stopped to see what was going on with the intruders? Probably, although that didn't even enter his mind. Down the stairs he flew, down, exiting at the second floor, rushing into the squad room…
Paramedics had just arrived, and Ducky and Jimmy were there, too, kneeling beside Tim. It seemed like everyone from NCIS was there. "Tony! You're bleeding!" Abby cried.
Paramedics! That means…he survived!
Tony pushed through the crowd and crouched beside Tim, ignoring Ducky who turned and tried to dab at his bleeding spots. "Hey, Probie," he said softly, and was gratified to see Tim's head turn a little.
"Hurts," Tim whispered. "M' legs…"
"Yeah, about that…I couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't wind up a little bruised."
"Tried…to land like you said."
"Easy, Timothy. They'll set you to rights at the hospital. I do fear that you have some broken bones, though," said Ducky. "And you, Tony. You'll go too, to get those lacerations tended to. You will probably need some stitches."
Tony's eyes were only on Tim. "Gotta apologize to you, McGee. I remember now about the thing about falling."
Tim opened a bleary eye. "What's that? As in, 'Don't do it'?"
"No, Well, yeah. I mean, I remember I learned it now as being part of a class I took with the Baltimore PD. It wasn't a FLETC thing at all. So I didn't mean to slam your FLETC class."
A gurgled laugh. "Good. I'd really hate to think that NCIS missed something. But next time…"
"What?"
"You can try doing the fall."
-END-