He felt the cold seeping into his bones. He hated being cold. Cold was a tangible presence, utterly indestructible. It could fell anyone, save for already cold blooded creatures like lizards and crocodiles and politicians and lawyers... Tony chuckled weakly. He'd met some interesting lawyers. Cold blooded indeed... He was reminded of Tom Cruise hunting down the varied creatures of the Mississippi. A partially decayed yet spunky Lestat gifting the melodies of the Moonlight Sonata to his totally under appreciative vampire family was such a great scene... Tony coughed and laughed. Maybe he was hysterical, or just used to being captured and kept in creepy B horror clichés like this. Even the dingy fluorescent lights flickered familiarly. Yep, just another day being Tony DiNozzo.

Was he really woolgathering while dying? What else was he to do? Was it woolgathering if there was no wool to gather? Just random threads of thought? What did that even mean? And when had he ever been on topic? Was there a topic to be on?

The blood was pooling around him. Shit. Lots of sticky, gooey, icky, murky, dark blood. Probably not good.

His poor Jethro. Another spouse slain. Jethro wouldn't make it a second time.

No, he had to do the impossible and survive. Survive if he had to eat every toad and gator in the Mississippi! He was no traitorous Goose! He was Maverick! It was do or die! No leaving your buddies behind by dying mid-movie! Semper Fi. He was not dying here. He wasn't leaving Jethro.

Oh how he wished he was snuggled up in bed with Jethro right now, warm and safe.

Argh, focus!

Okay, cuffed to a radiator. With his own cuffs. Unimpressive. The perp took his gun too, and his phone. Dude had been mysteriously strong for a skinny pin-cushion of a crackhead. Rule nine was no great help. His knife was no use unless he needed it for fighting off random passers by who for some reason wanted to kick a man when he was down... That set him off chuckling some more.

The radiator though? Easy. People tore those off the wall in movies with such ease. He'd get to it in a second... Next obstacle, he thought huffily.

Well, that was escaping the room. It was some kind of abandoned medical facility. Original indeed. There was a window near the ceiling. Ground level, like Abby's lab. But he was too big. Oh to be Alice in Wonderland! Eat me, drink me, save me, shrink me. He giggled. Alas, no mushrooms or dubious bottles lay about. Clearly the blood loss was going to his head though. He shook it. Maybe he could call for help if he got to the window.

Okay. Time to bust free from the radiator then! Bruce Willis moment. Now or never.

"Hngggghhhh!" Shit.

"HNNNNNNNNNGGGAH!" Ow. Fuck.

Okay, maybe kicking would have worked better. It had better work too. Italian leather...

*CLANG!*

Fuck. Bruce Willis must have been on steroids. Or just not bleeding to death.

"McGee, what ya got?"

"Uh, nuh... I um... His cell phone is turned off. I can't t-track him."

"People didn't use to have cell phones, McGee! Find him!"

"Yes, sir! I mean..."

"Today, McGee!"

*CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!*

"My poor shoes." Tony sighed as he collapsed into a heap. He was bleeding heavily now thanks to the exertion and his brain felt foggy. The radiator wasn't going anywhere from the looks of it.

All of a sudden the door burst open. Two young men entered and looked around.

"Hey, you see a ghost float by here? Brown hair, really pretty." The shorter one asked.

"If I say yes, will you get me out of these cuffs?" Tony asked, looking hopeful.

"You're not a demon, are you? The taller one asked, as if it was totally normal to ask someone that.

"Sammy, ya think he'd tell us if he was?" The shorter guy, who was clearly the brains, said.

"I guess not but it's considerate to ask! Besides demons aren't usually cuffed to stuff and bleeding." Sammy nodded his head towards Tony's obvious plight.

"What if it's trying to trick us?"

"Look! Egon... Venkman... I'm a federal agent, not a ghost or a demon or a dog statue thingy or a giant floating head intending to incarnate into Sigourney Weaver's baby! I don't care what you people have been huffing or smoking, just please, please, please help me so Jethro doesn't have to be alone again..." Tony sagged against the radiator and whimpered in pain. The irony... If only it was a *warm* radiator, he thought wistfully. Then he finally closed his eyes and succumbed to darkness.

"Uh, shit. Okay, man. Shit, I only have rocksalt ammo. Sammy go get an axe or sumthin. And call 911."

"Um, you better do something about that bleeding, Dean." Sammy said and hurried out to look for an axe.

Dean crouched in front of Tony's conked out form and started looking for the source of all that blood. He ripped open the bloodsoaked shirt and found it. He took off his jacket and pressed it against the wound, hoping to staunch the blood flow.

"Look, buddy, you hang in there. We'll get you fixed up." Dean said gruffly. He wasn't sure who he was trying to assure since the man was unconscious.

Dean was desperately trying to stop the spillage, wishing Castiel wasn't out of reach right now. Suddenly the lights started flickering and a familiar brunette breezed in with a graceful twirl. She was clad in a white gown made of thick swirling light. Her dark, chocolate locks shimmered and her dark, chocolate eyes were deep and twinkled with amusement.

"Expecting me?" She asked with a smirk.

"Who are you? What's your business with Barry?" Dean bit out, still keeping pressure on Tony's abdomen. His hands and jacket were swimming in blood, it didn't look like the guy would make it to the hospital.

"Only to protect my brother from him."

"This guy? He's your brother."

"In Heaven blood is a small matter. Tony is my brother. We've shared many lifetimes as blood siblings. This last one we weren't but it made no difference. Because of someone else's brother I exited early. Tony was sad for a long time, but he's finally happy. I'm here to see that he stays happy." She glanced at Tony and gave him a radiant smile.

"Okay, do something about this gushing then or he won't be very happy to find he's dead." Dean growled at the inappropriately cheery angel. Didn't she care her brother was leaking like Titanic after her date with Mr. Iceberg?

The angel knelt down and placed her hands over her brother's wound as Dean removed his sodden clump of a coat, now useless as either clothing or bandaid. The blood flow began to slow and Tony's skin flushed, no longer pale and cold to touch. The wound was still slowly leaking but it was as if Tony had extra to give.

Dean looked up as he felt a tiny gust. The angel had vanished again.

"Angels... Never say goodbye." Dean grumbled as he cradled Tony in his arms to shield him from the cold floor.

Dean was starting to wonder if Sammy was okay when he heard running footsteps echoing in the hall.

"I found it!" Sammy barreled into the room axe poised in his hands.

"Great job, Sammy!"

In no time they had Tony free and on the way to a hospital. The ambulance came just as they got the cuffs axed and Tony was bundled up and wheeled away to be taken to Bethesda by the confused paramedics.

"Well, time to go find Barry." Dean sighed, staring at the gory scene.

"Barry is such a jerk. You think that guy is gonna be okay? I really liked him."

"He'll be fine, Sammy. Now lets go vanquish some demons!"

Tony opened his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear the blurriness. He was in a hospital room, attached to wires and an IV and... Gibbs! His hand was being held firmly, even as Gibbs snored in the uncomfortable metal chair next to his bed looking totally out of it.

Tony sent thanks to his two guardian ghostbusters, squeezed the hand in his and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later Tony woke again. This time to voices.

"We just wanted to see how he was doing." Dean was saying.

"Hey. How are you doing, man?" Sammy asked, noticing he was awake.

"Warmer, thanks." Tony croaked out and let out a tiny cough.

"Hey, hon. We better call in Brad, don't want you to get pneumonia." Gibbs said and kissed him softly.

"Okay... Hey. Thanks, Egon... Venkman. You guys saved my life."

"Ahem. Really, it was nothing. Our pleasure." Dean muttered blushing.

"Definitely not nothing. What I don't get is... The paramedics said with the amount of blood on the scene, he shoulda been dead!" Gibbs shook his head.

"So... Did ya catch your ghost?" Tony decided to change the subject to something less morbid, although ghosts probably weren't it.

"Uh... No, but we caught the demon that stabbed you." Dean flashed a cocky grin.

"Hum. No wonder he got the drop on me." Tony grinned back, feeling better already.

Gibbs just shook his head. Demons, ghosts, miracle healings... He didn't care anymore. What mattered was Tony, alive and well.

"Wait a minute... Since when do demons need to stab people? Couldn't they just lob a fireball at ya?" Gibbs couldn't help himself.

"Crack smacks the fire energy right outta them. That stuff is a real problem right now in the demon community." Dean shrugged.

"We better go, let you guys rest. I hope we'll meet again under better circumstances, Tony." Sammy grinned and shook Tony's still noodly hand.

"Yeah... Watch out for those demons." Dean smirked.

"I owe you, if you ever need a favor... As long as it's within reason." Tony winked groggily.

"Don't worry, we won't ask to borrow your soul or anything." Dean chuckled a little darkly.

The brothers made their exit and Gibbs settled carefully next to Tony on the bed.

"Home sweet home." Tony murmured in Gibbs arms and smiled happily.

"We're in a hospital." Gibbs grumped.

"Home is with you." Tony whispered and squeezed Gibbs tightly.

Then they both fell promptly asleep, warm and safe in each others' keep.