A/N: When I had started this, I had planned on it only being a one-shot, but it's actually going to be two parts, because it feels like it needs to be. That being said, I do not own NCIS, CBS, or any other known entity. The quote in the summary is from the episode Grace Period. I'd have those tissues ready, as this is a tragedy. As always, I hope you enjoy the story, and please review.
Looking From A Distance, Part 1
Three things were clear in his mind right now. The first was that he was lucky. The second was that it hurt. And the third was that the pain would probably never go away.
It had been a long time since these three things had combined within McGee. He had to think back two years to when Paula Cassidy's team from the Pentagon was bombed. Their team was supposed to have that weekend shift, but Gibbs had asked for it off. And it was a good thing, because had they not…
Well, this would've happened.
McGee coughed, staring at the burning building in horror. He was in the same position Paula had been in- watching from the middle of the street as the debris rained down around him. All of his senses were dulled as he couldn't feel anything and couldn't really think. All he could see and think was he was lucky he himself hadn't been in there.
But Tony was.
After a moment, his senses returned to him, and he felt Gibbs kneel down beside him. "McGee," Gibbs said. His voice was muffled, and McGee very slowly turned his head away from the burning building to focus on the face of his boss. "Are you okay?"
"Tony…" McGee replied, still horror-struck. He felt Gibbs' gloved hand touch a spot on his forehead, and saw said hand come away with blood on it.
"You're hurt," Gibbs said. His voice still wasn't clear, and McGee watched as Gibbs turned his head to look off in another direction. He followed Gibbs' gaze to where Ziva was picking herself up off the ground, shaking off the dust. "He's conscious," Gibbs said, his voice slightly louder but still fuzzy.
Had Ziva asked a question? McGee couldn't be sure.
She walked over to where Gibbs and McGee were on the street, her face etched with concern that she almost never showed.
"I don't know," Gibbs said as she walked up.
Why couldn't he hear what Ziva was saying?
She disappeared toward the building, and McGee felt Gibbs get up. He rushed toward the building, following her and pulling her back. McGee watched their argument, not sure what they were saying as he couldn't hear them. And once his eyes closed, his entire world faded to black.
*~*~*~*
The day had started out normally enough- McGee had gotten there early and started up his computer. He drank from his coffee, kicking his feet up on his desk and relaxing in the calm. Ziva was the next to enter the bullpen, and the two of them exchanged pleasantries as she sat down and started her day. He set about checking his email while he waited for Gibbs to come down and tell them they had a new case.
The next person to roll into the bullpen was Tony, who was wearing his shades and strolling in confidently. That could only mean one thing.
"I had the most amazing date last night," Tony said. And thus, it began…
*~*~*~*
Never had McGee ever been so relieved as when they got to the crime scene and he had been assigned the task of taking witness statements. By that time, he was already ready to ring Tony's neck, being decidedly sick of listening to the older agent go on and on incessantly about his date the night before. After the third time, he had gotten the point- the girl was gorgeous and sweet, Tony had a good time, and he was going to call her later.
Gibbs had been outside with McGee, talking with Ducky about the crime scene and the body. Ziva had been inside collecting evidence with Tony, but had left to get something out of the truck, which was across the street. The witness McGee had been talking to walked away, leaving McGee standing on the sidewalk next to the building.
That was when it happened.
McGee didn't have time to react as the building before him exploded. The entire block shook from the force, and McGee was thrown backwards. As the debris rained around him, his world quickly went black.
*~*~*~*
McGee came to again in the hospital, the image of Gibbs and Ziva arguing about something burned in his brain. He looked around the room to find Ducky standing on the side, holding his phone to his ear. McGee assumed that Ducky was having a conversation, but couldn't hear what was being said. Ducky's back was turned to McGee, and McGee took that moment to contemplate the current situation as he knew it.
Tony had been working the crime scene inside when it blew. McGee had been the next closest to the building, followed by Ziva and Gibbs. The three of them most definitely made it out of the blast.
With a heavy heart, he realized there was no way that Tony had.
Ducky turned around, finally noticing that McGee was awake. From Ducky's mannerisms, McGee assumed that he had bid the person on the other end farewell before walking over to McGee.
"Can you hear me?" Ducky asked. Ducky's voice was muffled and distorted so much that McGee could barely make out the words.
"Not really," he replied cautiously. Ducky nodded sadly, grabbing a pen and a pad of paper.
How are you feeling? he wrote.
"Confused. What's going on, Ducky?"
There was a bomb at the crime scene.
"I know. I remember that."
You were injured pretty badly.
"How badly?"
Your eardrums are damaged.
"So… I'll never really be able to hear again?"
It's possible.
McGee sighed, shaking his head. He didn't really care so much about himself right now. "Ducky, can you be honest with me?"
Of course.
"Is Tony dead?"
McGee watched as Ducky's eyes began to water. The older man bit his lip, and that was all the confirmation McGee needed. Until Ducky picked up the pen again.
Not yet.
McGee knit his eyebrows together in confusion. "He's still alive?" he asked incredulously.
For now, Ducky wrote back. But it's not looking like he's going to make it.
"How bad is he?"
Ducky sighed. He was blown out of the building into the van across the street. He has a bad head injury, a broken thoracic vertebra, several broken bones, and some severe burns.
"Oh, God," McGee said, his eyes watering.
I'm sorry, Timothy.
"No, I'm sorry, Ducky." McGee closed his eyes, pulling the covers up to his face to wipe away his tears. "How's Abby? And Ziva? And Gibbs?"
Ziva and Gibbs are determined to find out who did this. Abby's a wreck, but she's trying to work through it.
McGee nodded, sitting up. "I need to help them too," he said. "I need to get justice for Tony."
You can't leave this hospital, Timothy.
"I'll sign an AMA. I need to do this, Ducky."
I admire your strength and courage, Timothy, but if you push yourself too hard, you'll definitely lose your hearing forever.
McGee sighed, thinking for a few moments. After considering it, he finally said, "I don't care, Ducky. Justice for Tony is more important."
Ducky sighed, nodding as he realized that there was no changing McGee's mind. I'll go get the nurse, he scribbled down quickly.
"Thanks, Ducky," McGee replied. Ducky nodded, leaving the room and leaving McGee to his own devices for a moment.
Which was a place McGee didn't want to be.
*~*~*~*
McGee walked into Abby's lab, finding the normally bouncy, lovable goth downtrodden. She turned at the sound of his footsteps, something he couldn't actually hear himself. "Hey Abby," he said.
"Hey McGee," she replied, her voice as distorted as Ducky's.
"Do you have something?"
She turned back to the computer, typing. McGee furrowed his brow, walking closer to her and putting his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him.
"Do you have something?" he repeated gently.
"I just told you what I had," she replied.
He furrowed his brow again, sighing deeply. "I'm sorry, Abby. I can't hear anything."
She nodded, turning back to the computer. She opened a Word document and typed, the bomb was homemade, but I can't tell you with what yet besides a pipe. The trigger was a cell phone, and I'm working on the last call for our bomber's number. I'll let you know as soon as I have something.
McGee nodded, sighing. "Thanks, Abbs." He turned, starting to walk away before her hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned back to her, finding her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Her hot, wet tears singed the soft, sensitive skin of his neck, and he held her tightly against him. There wasn't anything else he could do at that moment.
There were no false reassurances to utter. No way of knowing whether Tony would get better or not, no way of saying that things would be okay. Because they wouldn't. If Tony died, there would always be that hole. And even if he did survive somehow, he wouldn't ever be an agent again.
McGee wasn't sure which option was worse- Tony losing his life, or Tony losing the only life he'd ever known.
When Abby finally let go, she wiped away her tears, wordlessly turning back to her work. McGee left the room, realizing that maybe Ducky had been right. There wasn't anything he could do at NCIS. He caught a cab back to the hospital, walking into Tony's room. He watched as a machine breathed into Tony's lifeless body, causing his chest to gently rise. The same machine pulled the air out of him as well, keeping the exchange going. IVs dribbled into both of his arms, bags of solution containing blood and other fluids. His head was bandaged, and McGee could see where a spot of blood was forming over what must have been a large cut. Tony's eyes were closed, and it was weird for McGee to see Tony be this still.
Tony was never this still. But Tony would have no choice but to be this still for the rest of his life.
That is, if he lived through this.
McGee found himself doing the one thing he felt everyone must do when they enter someone's hospital room. He picked up Tony's hand gently in his, being careful not to disturb the bandages, IVs, or burns.
"I'm sorry," McGee said. "I'm sorry this happened to you, Tony. I'm sorry I took it for granted that you had always been here. I'm sorry that I've been so hard on you the past year or so. I'm sorry it has to be this way right now…
"I should've been there in the building with you," McGee said. "If it wasn't for the argument we had in the bullpen earlier, Gibbs might've had me in there with you. I'm sorry we fought, Tony. I'm sorry that this is going on. I know, my apologies aren't going to make anything better, and even if you were here to comment, I wouldn't hear it. But… I'm sorry, Tony. I'm really, really sorry."
McGee closed his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I just wish there was something I could do to make things better," he continued. "I wish I could make it better. But I can't, and I know I can't, and I'm sorry for that too."
McGee wasn't sure exactly why he was apologizing so much to Tony, given that half of the things he was apologizing for he couldn't make better even if he tried. But he felt like he had to confess this all now, while Tony was still breathing in front of him.
"I'm sorry," McGee said one last time. He fell silent, choosing instead to simply sit with Tony rather than talk anymore. Tears still fell down McGee's face, and while he knew that Tony would probably make fun of McGee for crying over him, McGee couldn't stop himself. He never thought he'd be in this situation.
Waiting to see if his friend would live or die.
