Disclaimer : I own nothing in this story. Any copyright infringement is unintentional and it's only for entertainment. I need something to do while I wait for the new season!
Title : Basement
Summary : One-shot in which Tony annoys McGee and then saves his life. Character study. Rated T for minor violence, language and gore.
Author's Note : For those of you following my multi-chapter story "Gone," you will notice this story is a little different. It is told from first person, present tense with McGee as narrator. Based on the voices and character descriptions, I'm assuming it's season 6, pre-"Caged".
I'm using this as a bit of a character study to explore the relationship between DiNozzo/McGee. There are no spoilers and this is not slash.
Well.
Let's get on with it.
-oooooooo-ooooooooo-ooooooooo-
"Hard to believe the doctor was in on it all along," Special Agent Tony DiNozzo says darkly as we cross the parking lot towards the bleak hospital. Against the bright afternoon sky, the pale facade St. Catherine's looks simultaneously comforting and chilling. "It's exactly like Malice."
Raising an eyebrow, I shrug helplessly. "Come on, Probie," he continues, pleadingly. "Alec Baldwin, Nicole Kidman. The great year of 1993. Prominent surgeon operates on a young woman and removes her reproductive organs. She sues him for malpractice and it turns out that they're actually defrauding his insurance company. Except in ours, Nicole Kidman was our Petty Officer and Alec Baldwin is Dr. Mark Sanchez."
Not that I would admit it to DiNozzo, but the movie does sound intriguing. Instead, I shrug again. "Really, Tony. I haven't heard of it."
As we move through the sliding glass doors and enter the main foyer, I make a mental note to rent it someday. At an information desk across the lobby, an aging volunteer stands and begins to approach us. Broad smile on her face, Tony extinguishes her purpose by raising a hand and shaking his head. Deflated, she slinks back to the desk and disappears behind a magazine.
"Do you know where we're going?" Feeling suddenly overheated, I unbutton my trench coat and pull at my collar. Even though spring is just starting outside, the hospital's thermostat is still set for the deep chill of winter.
Shrugging, DiNozzo shoots me a wide smile and it irks me. "Let's just check the directory." By the time I think of a response, he's on the other side of the lobby and reading the large gold plaque on the wall. With a sigh, I lose my retort and follow him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the volunteer staring us down. Maybe we should have just asked her...
"Right there," DiNozzo stabs a finger at the plaque. "M. Sanchez, DO. Sixth floor, northwest, office number 628. OB/GYN." With a glint in his eye and I know a perverted thought in his mind, he winks at me. Rolling my eyes, I feel dirty just standing next to him.
"Let's go." Ignoring him, I stride through the lobby and toward the elevators on the other side. As we wait, he pulls out his phone and starts smashing the buttons. When he stops, my phone chirps to life with a text. Sighing, I pull it out and check the message.
Hey, McGoo. What's shakin'?
"Really, DiNozzo?"
Looking at me intently, he smashes more buttons on his phone. Mine chirps again.
Really, really.
With a sigh, I push the elevator call button again. As if it knows I might go crazy standing here, the elevator appears and its doors open. As we enter, I hear him smashing more buttons and I hit the sixth floor button. The door slides shut, narrowly missing DiNozzo. A dying signal from his phone signals no service and I smile to myself. Thank G-d.
The elevator climbs to the sixth floor in silence but for some reason, I feel edgy. Maybe DiNozzo's plotting something. Glancing at his reflection in the burnished gold door, Tony's making a face into his phone and taking a picture. Perhaps he's not planning anything...
Finally, the elevator dings and its doors open. Heading left, we step out and begin to walk down a long hallway with full glass windows on the right and individual doctor's offices on the left. These aren't the type of offices that lend themselves to patient visits. Rather, they are the personal space for each physician to use on hospital rotations. As I'm counting the numbers, my phone chirps again and I ignore it.
Halfway down the corridor, there's a hallway that splits to the left and leads to even more offices. Dropping his voice to a tense whisper, DiNozzo hisses. "Sanchez is at the other end of the hall. Let's - ." Craning my neck past Tony, I see the tall, lanky doctor ambling up the hallway towards us. Dressed in dark green scrubs and reading a medical journal as he moves, the man hardly looks like a criminal mastermind. For some reason, he looks up and our eyes meet.
"Shit," Tony mutters, reaching for his Sig. Before I can ask what's wrong, Sanchez drops his journal and sprints the way he came. "You just had to look at him!"
"I'm sorry," I call out, not sure if it matters. Running down the hallway, I unholster my weapon and try to stay as close to DiNozzo. As we run after him, Sanchez cuts to the right at the end of the hall. We follow the best we can.
"Federal Agents," DiNozzo bellows. "Mark Sanchez, stop running!" I forget how intimidating Tony can sound.
Was it my imagination or did the doctor somehow manage to run faster? Sanchez hits the end of the hallway before we do and disappears into the stairwell. "Shit," Tony mutters again and I wheeze my sympathies. When we arrive at the stairwell door, he laughs. "You might need to spend some more time at the gym, Probster."
"Bite me, DiNozzo," I say, breathlessly. Maybe he is right, after all.
As we bound down the steps, Tony raises his hand to signal silence. Somewhere below us, I hear a door slam but I can't place it. Damn, we just lost our suspect. "Basement," DiNozzo whispers. How did he - ? How could he - ?
As we pass over the second floor landing, I've given up on trying to figure out how he knew Sanchez headed to the basement. I only hope I stay conscious that long. Half a flight ahead of me, Tony keeps looking back at me. He seems almost concerned, but I wave him on.
By the time I reach the basement level, DiNozzo is standing with his back against the wall and gazing out the glass on the door. "I don't see him," he informs me. From my doubled over position, I can only see my knees. Starting tomorrow, I'm officially giving up Nutter Butters...
"Alright, McGee." The tone of his voice is serious. Sometimes he jokes so much, I forget he even knows how to behave like a cop. "Sanchez is down here somewhere. This is the only way in and out. When we go out there, I'm going right. You head left. If you find him, give me a yell and I'll do the same. Got it?"
As I stand and ready myself, I'm breathing more steady but DiNozzo looks at me like I'm about to keel over. "I'm okay," I protest and he nods, unconvinced.
"Give yourself a few minutes," he advises. "If your phone beeps Probie, do me a favor and answer it."
I nod. "Got it, Tony." Raising his gun, he pushes the door open and vanishes to the right. Leaning against the wall, I take a few deep breaths and try to catch my breath. Physical activity has never been my forte, but I just got my ass kicked.
After a few moments, I stop feeling like I'm about to die. Checking my watch, I realize it's been three minutes and that's way too long for DiNozzo to be down here with the suspect alone. Raising my weapon, I head out the door and make my way to the left. The basement is darker than I thought a hospital one would be. A lot of exposed pipes are overhead with intermittent fluorescent lighting. The wall are puke yellow cinderblock and the floor is some sort of linoleum.
Sliding against the wall, I move down the hallway occasionally stopping to peer down an offshoot. A loud crunching noise under my shoe makes me jump. Pulse pounding in my ears, I lift my foot and watch a slightly flattened cockroach the size of my thumb skitter down the hallway. I gag, fighting the urge to vomit.
As I exhale slowly, I start moving again and follow the cockroach. Might as well, it's the last sign of life I've seen down here since DiNozzo headed in the opposite direction.
Suddenly, a hand clamps over my mouth and I instinctively lift my own to push it away. Before I can put any pressure on it, I'm pulled pack against a solid body and I feel the cold metal of a gun press against the side of my head. I inhale sharply.
"Don't make a sound," a man I assume to be Sanchez orders behind me and I feel myself nodding. "Drop the gun." For some reason, I keep hold of my Sig. A part of me can't believe this is actually happening. Sanchez gives me a hard shake and I let go of my weapon. Somewhere it hits the floor and slides away. I can't see it because I'm too busy looking at the ceiling.
"Here's the deal," Sanchez growls in my ear. "You're going to help me get out of here, got it?" Again, I nod. "You make one sound and I'll blow your head off." Swallowing hard, I nod a third time to let him know I'm too attached to living to end it now. Seemingly satisfied, he takes his hand off my mouth and wraps an arm around my neck instead.
"Come on." As he pulls me in the direction that I came from, I feel my shoes slip over the linoleum. I'm not sure if it's because I'm leaning backwards or because I'm shaking so hard.
Sanchez leads me down the hallway and I can tell I'm slowing him down. Maybe I should offer to stay behind to make his trip quicker. "Come on."
As we travel, we make several turns. Great, he's lost and I'm not paying attention. I'm not sure how long it's been; right now, I'm counting lights on the ceiling. Anything to forget about the gun against my head. Too bad, it's not working.
"How do I get out of here?" he asks me suddenly. I'm surprised I actually heard his voice over the sound of my heart beating in my ears.
I don't answer. Earlier, he said no sound. Well, talking means sound and sound means dead. I like to think I'm not stupid. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he pushes the gun deeper in my temple.
Closing my eyes, I will the nausea to pass. "I don't know. I was lost when you found me." Half-lie, half-truth. He sighs again and the pressure on my head eases. If it weren't for the arm around my neck holding me up, I'd be sliding to the floor.
For several seconds, we're still and I can feel him looking around. Great, we're really lost. I'm not sure if it's good or bad. With a sigh that sounds more like a growl, he pushes me forward and hangs a right into yet another hallway. Seeing a burnt out light, I know we've been here before.
My phone lets out a quiet chirp. Shit, DiNozzo's going to kill me. Well, that's if Sanchez doesn't finish me off first. The phone chirps again and I imagine Tony is planning the beat down he'll give me later.
"McGee! Answer your damn phone!" DiNozzo's angry voice echoes in the hallway. Glancing around, I have no idea where it came from.
Behind me, Sanchez freezes and I'm pretty sure he's thinking the same thing. "Agent McGee, huh?" He whispers, giving me a shake. I nod. "Good to know." With a hard pull at my neck, we're moving again.
The phone chirps again and I'm impressed I still have cell service. When I get out of here, I'll have to congratulate NCIS on picking a carrier with such good reception. If I - .
"Agent McGee! You answer me!" Tony roars, sounding farther away than before. Sanchez lets out a quiet puff of relief.
In my self-professed quest to count the number of fluorescent lights down here, I hit forty seven. As I see the same broken light as before, I resist the urge to tell Sanchez we're going in circles. Though I will have to inform the hospital about it. They really need to get that fixed...
"Tim! I'm coming, you stay put!" Concern edges into DiNozzo's shout and it sounds closer this time. Shit, I really am in trouble.
As Sanchez pulls me down another hallway, we pause in an alcove by a maintenance door. This must be where he hid when I passed through the first time. There's no way we're visible from hallway. The doctor pulls his hand over my mouth again and presses the gun onto my head so hard I'm convinced it'll leave a mark. I close my eyes, waiting for the whole thing to be over.
"Sanchez! Where is he?" Tony yells, sounding closer than before. Behind me, I feel the doctor hold his breath. His muscles tense and he pushes the gun against my head even harder. Before I can stop myself, I let out a low moan and the pressure eases. It's quiet and still for what feels like minutes. I focus on breathing and try to think of who I need to contact about that broken light.
"Sanchez! Come out!" DiNozzo's voice echoes, far away this time. I guess he passed right by the hallway where we're hiding. I hear a gasp of relief from Sanchez and he grabs my neck again before dragging me out of the wall's recess. Every part of me wants to start panicking, but I know there's no point in that unless I want to die.
As we move, I can tell I'm hindering the doctor's movements. Since Tony knows I'm in trouble, I try to slow us down a bit by dragging my feet. Good thing Sanchez doesn't notice what I'm doing. He probably figures I'm getting tired.
A loud squeaking noise makes us both jump. While Sanchez is searching for the source of the noise, I listen hard for DiNozzo. Too bad, the noise was a sneaker's screech. Out of the three of us, Sanchez is the only one wearing running shoes.
"Mark Sanchez! Federal agent! Freeze!"
Behind me, I feel the doctor's body tense and the arm around my neck tightens. As he pulls me around to face Tony, my hands reflexively land on his arm.
"Sanchez! Let him go!" About ten feet away in the entrance to a corridor, DiNozzo stands with his gun raised and eyes deadly. I've never seen his expressive face contorted with such maliciousness. Jaw set, he keeps his sight locked on the man holding me.
Sanchez pushes the gun hard against my head again and I wince. Unexpectedly, I think I see DiNozzo's gun waver slightly before he returns to his steady stance. His eyes have never moved from the face of the man over my shoulder. I look at him, wishing he would meet my eyes. All I need is for him to let know that it's going to be okay.
"I want out of here," the doctor growls, giving me a hard shake.
"Not gonna happen," Tony says, voice deadly. "Put down the weapon."
"If you don't let me walk away, I'll blow Agent McGee's head off." Feeling ill at plans for my upcoming demise, I keep my eyes fixed on DiNozzo's face. I need something, anything from him to know I'm going to survive this.
By my ear, I hear a tiny click and out of nowhere, an explosion. Reflexively, my eyes snap shut and I feel myself falling. Did I just get shot? Am I dead? Is it - ? Barely able to comprehend what's happening, I'm thrashing against a limp body. Pushing up, away, any and every direction. I need to get away.
Someone is yelling something incoherent, a mash of words. Oh wait, I think that might be me. Even though it's hotter than hell in the basement, I can't stop shaking. My eyes can't seem to focus on anything but the dirty linoleum, puke yellow walls, those damn florescent lights until I stop on the former Dr. Sanchez. Laying on his back, his eyes are staring unseeing at the ceiling as a pool of blood forms behind his head. All I can stare at is the bullet hole in his forehead.
A rough hand grabs me and hauls me to my feet. My back's against a wall and I feel a hand on my chin, pulling my attention away from Sanchez's broken body. "McGee! Tim! Look at me!"
Saying something incoherent, I look at DiNozzo's face. No longer hateful, his expression is concerned as he stares in my eyes. I glance past him and try to look at the doctor's broken form again, but his face follows mine. "Breathe, Tim, breathe. You're okay." How could I forget to breathe? As I inhale, the black spots in my vision begin to disappear.
Suddenly, my legs give out and Tony catches me, helping me to slide down the wall. He crouches in front of me, keeping me from looking back at the corpse that's laying near us. "You're okay," he repeats and I'm starting to believe him.
I try to say thank you, but I can't seem to get the words out. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my cell phone and DiNozzo is looking at me like I've gone insane. As I open his most recent text, I see a picture of him pretending to eat his phone with a text that says "Last thing a Nutter Butter sees!"
Feeling my lips pull into a smile, I type thank you with trembling hands. When I push send, I see Tony trying to decide what to do with me since I'm texting right after a standoff. His phone buzzes and his gaze turns questioning. While he checks it, I feel myself relax against the wall and I let out a sigh of relief.
Flipping his phone closed, DiNozzo places a hand on my shoulder and smiles tightly at me. "You're welcome, Probie."