Tony sat in the waiting room, staring at the blood on his hands. He wasn't sure whose blood it was. Ziva's, probably. Maybe a little of his own. He should probably get that washed off, he thinks. By now it had dried up and was flaking and cracking in a way that made his stomach turn. There was a lot of it.
Several nurses had seen his blood-covered hands and ushered him into a room to be looked at by a doctor, despite his protests that it wasn't his blood, that he wasn't hurt, and that he just wanted to sit in the waiting room alone. Gibbs was on his way to the hospital- he had stayed behind at the crime scene to round up suspects for questioning. Tony had wanted to help, but the boss had seen his expression and sent the senior agent ahead. In hindsight, DiNozzo realized that he'd probably kill anyone who crossed his path, he was so angry. It was better to leave the suspects to Gibbs.
The thing about a crime-scene-turned-shootout so late at night...at least there was no one to bother him in the waiting room.
.
The sound of footsteps faded into earshot, and DiNozzo tensed. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. Just his luck, the object of his anger was the man approaching him, his best friend at any other time but now. Tim rounded the corner, and stopped when he saw Tony, who looked up at him. McGee tried to smile in encouragement, but DiNozzo stared at him with so much contempt and fury that his grin faltered slightly.
"Not in the mood, McGee."
"Tony-"
"No, Tim. Shut up."
The younger agent sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't have nearly as much of Ziva's blood on his hands as DiNozzo did, but some was still there. He came to sit next to Tony, but sat two chairs down, to give the angry senior agent his space.
"This isn't my fault, you know."
"Really?" the older man spat. "Because it was your call. You made the choice. And look where we are."
Tim turned his head to look at his friend. "I'm not going to apologize."
DiNozzo shot up out of his seat and paced across the room. He wanted to throw something, particularly at McGee's head.
"You almost got us killed-"
"And if I hadn't made the decision I did, then we'd all be dead right now," Tim said calmly.
Tony turned to look at him, stirred by McGee's calm, gentle tone. As if it was that easy to stay relaxed at a time like this.
"I'd rather be here waiting for news than on one of Ducky's slabs." Tony winced. Tim's big green eyes were so innocent they were almost playful. "Look, Tony. Ziva's gonna be fine. It was just a graze. We both saw it. She was barely wincing when they put her on the gurney. She'll recover fully."
DiNozzo finally lost what was left of his temper. "That's not the point, Tim! Just because Ziva was hurt doesn't mean you had to be so stupid! And what if your plan didn't work? They would've turned on us! And it's not like Ziva could've helped us, lying on the ground, bleeding!"
Tim looked at him with eyebrows raised, obviously seeing through Tony's blames and accusations. The senior agent deflated. He moved to cover his eyes with his hand, but pulled it away when he remembered the blood on them. "Don't you have any self preservation?" he said quietly. McGee finally dropped his cheery attitude and frowned.
"Tony," he said. "It was the only way to make sure they didn't shoot you and Ziva. They had their guns turned on us."
"That's no excuse to go running off into the woods firing your gun and yelling," Tony said. "Just so that they'd follow you."
"It worked, didn't it?" Tim grinned.
"I've never wanted to head slap you so hard," Tony said. "You're missing the point."
"Wouldn't you have done the same thing?" the junior agent asked earnestly.
He would have. But he hated the idea of his best friend taking such a risk.
"Ziva's going to kill you when she gets out of there," DiNozzo said, tilting his head in the direction of the operating room. He knew that Ziva would be fine, but they were taking such a long time...how long did it really take to remove a bullet from someone's thigh?
"Everything's going to be fine, Tony," Tim insisted, noticing his coworker's worried expression. "Really."
The doors to Ziva's room opened, and a doctor came out, still in his besmirched scrubs. "You're with Agent David?" he asked.
"Yes," Tony said, rising.
"She's going to be fine," the doctor smiled. "Everything went well, she's sleeping right now- we gave her something for the pain. She should be able to go home when she wakes up."
"Thanks," Tony said, holding back a sigh of relief.
"See? I told you," Tim said once the man had left. DiNozzo wanted to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening at the far end of the hall. Gibbs came into view, with a coffee in each hand.
"Oh, thank god, boss. You read my mind," Tony said, eagerly taking the cup from the team leader.
"Any news?" Gibbs asked.
"Ziva's fine. She's sleeping now." Gibbs nodded and took a sip of his coffee.
"And McGee?" Tony asked, hoarse. Gibbs looked at the empty waiting room around them, trying to avoid Tony's gaze.
"No news yet," Gibbs said quietly. "He's still missing."
Tony, once again, wanted to throw something. He hated the idea of his friend and brother, lost in the woods, injured. Possibly bleeding to..."Godammit. We should be out there, looking for him!" Jethro nodded.
"Go, DiNozzo. Find him." Tony grabbed his jacket and threw it on, running down the hallway and out the door. Gibbs would be there for Ziva when she woke up. Tony was going to find Tim before the night was over.
