Author's Notes: Written for EnthusiasticFish's Protector Challenge on NFA.
Characters: Tony/Abby & McGee/Tony friendship.
Summary: One would do anything for the other.
Likewise
Abby finds him in the back corner of the emergency room, away from the hustle and the bustle and protected by an off-white curtain. She nudges it aside so she can get a closer look. She needs to see that he's whole and healthy - reasonably, anyway, all things considered. And he is, sitting there calmly on the gurney with his legs hanging free, socked feet swinging. He's dressed in a loose, powder blue gown, and he's worrying the edges of it with shaking fingers. It's definitely not his color.
"Tony," Abby softly calls out, not wanting to startle him back into awareness.
Tony looks up from the floor, and he immediately smiles, lazy and lopsided, while placing his palms on either side of his thighs. "Hey, Abs," he slurs, running the simple words together. His hazel eyes seem dull and unfocused.
Abby smiles sympathetically and hitches her purse higher on her shoulder before stepping closer to him. "What did you get into?" She reaches out to grab Tony's chin, moving his head so she can get a better look at the stitches. The angry red gash starts on his bottom lip and extends towards his chin. The lip is swollen and, although professionally done, the black stitches look a bit gruesome. Abby brushes a thumb across them lightly and winces. "Look at what you did to your face."
Tony is too drugged and numb to flinch as she inspects the wound. He only blinks in a calmly sedated, bovine way. His chin is wet from his own drool. "Aw, Tony babe." Abby doesn't hesitate to use her own sleeve to wipe it away. After all, what's a little saliva among friends?
"I can' feel it," he whispers. "They stuck a big nee'le in my face."
"I don't think you'd wanna feel it," Abby answers honestly. "Looks pretty ugly. Bossman said you went mano-a-mano against a chain link fence. Not advisable, Tones."
Tony looks bereft. His good looks are his self-proclaimed savior. "Had'ta get to M'Gee. I'as climbing o'er it. I slipped. It got me."
"It sure did get you."
Before Abby can say anything else, the nurse bustles in, all curves and bright eyes and dark, tightly-curled hair. She's wearing Loony Tunes scrubs and a lighthearted smile. She has a wound care info sheet for her quick stitch-up of a patient. "Alright Mr. Tony…"
"Hi, Miss Mona," Tony greets. He doesn't realize that he's drooling again.
"I see you have a friend here," Mona the nurse is writing something on a clipboard while glancing at Abby, "which is good because you are free to go. Here are some instructions for that wound. And the doctor has written you these prescriptions. That local anesthetic should wear off soon, as will the painkiller, and you'll be back to your cranky, agitated self." Mona smiles and winks.
"I'as not that way," Tony protests morosely.
"Don't you worry, Mr. Tony, you're a peach compared to most who come through here." As quickly as she'd come, the nurse makes her exit. She's got a whole day full of personalities to outsmart and unfortunate wounds and illnesses to tend to.
Tony sighs and moves to slide off the gurney. He stumbles, but Abby grips his elbow. She knows he's really out of it, because he doesn't even realize his ass is hanging out for her to see. She steadies him as he eases into his dirty dress slacks.
"I guess you drew the short straw, huh," Tony huffs. He fumbles to untie the strings of the gown.
Abby jumps to help him. "Why d'you say that?"
Once the strings are undone, Tony shrugs out of the ugly thing, balls it up, and tosses it at the wall. "You're the one pi'ing me up."
"Gibbs wanted to come. McGee, too. He feels guilty." Abby looks at a spectacular bruise that's already formed on his side. She touches it, and this time Tony does flinch. He breathes in sharply and shifts in discomfort, grinding his teeth. Abby looks at his face. "How did this happen?"
Tony laughs breathily and reaches for his shirt. "Af'er I slipped from the fence, I fell. On'o the corner of a dum'ster. Tha' hurt. But I got up, and beat tha' sonuva bee off'a Probie. We show'd 'im, me 'nd MaGee."
Abby cringes on her friend's behalf as she helps him into his shirt, covering up the pissed off looking bruise. She works diligently on the buttons from the bottom up. His suit coat comes next, followed by the NCIS jacket, all of it spotted with blood. "But like I was saying," she speaks encouragingly, "Gibbs wanted to come for you. And you should have seen McGee. He was really worried."
"Shoulda seen it. I'as blee'ing all over the place, Abs. M'Gee was freaking out. Pret'y funny, really. 'Damn clumsy, D'Nozzo,' Boss tol' me," Tony smiles, although it hurts to do so. He moves to wipe away his own drool. He accidentally touches the stitched mess and hisses. "But tha' guy... He wan'ed a piece of Probie. Hadta get o'er the fence."
Abby grins softly at him and places the NCIS ball cap backwards on his head. A tuft of brown hair escapes.
Tony is blinking, trying to maintain some sort of focus, but it's almost impossible. "Wha'?" he asks her suspiciously.
Mindful of the nasty bruise, Abby steps closer and draws him into a tender hug. She squeezes his shoulder blades and hides her face against his chest. "Thank you for protecting my Timmy."
Tony returns the embrace, cautiously. "Abs?"
Abby then takes a step back but keeps her hands possessively on his elbows. Her expression is serious. "DiNozzo." She keeps her voice low and narrows her eyes for effect, as if she's attempting to channel Gibbs.
He says nothing - only cocks his head, which is both endearing and amusing when combined with the drug-induced faraway daze he's currently trapped in.
"You tell me where that fence is," Abby makes known, "and I'll go and kick its ass."
Tony stares at her for a while. His forehead creases. "You'd bea' up a fence for me?"
"I'd do anything for you." She gives him a simple peck on the nose.
Abby's actions are always thick with friendly affection. Tony has learned to love this, depend on this. He whuffs out a relaxed sigh. His face might be hurting like hell, but for once, he feels happy. Happy and cared for. And in return for this wonderful feeling, Tony would also do anything, give anything.
He only has one thing to say to her: "Likewise."
Later that evening, Tony is conked out on Abby's sofa, the good side of his face hidden in a pillow. Abby has made sure to keep his belly full of fresh food and painkillers, and now that he's finally dozed off, she's made sure to pull the quilt up to his slack jaw. Despite the TV that's flickering artificial light throughout the room and the quiet conversation going on in the kitchen, he's completely dead to the world.
McGee, still dressed in his disheveled work clothes, leans against the doorway that separates the living room from the kitchen. He watches the Tony-shaped lump on the sofa, watches as his shoulder moves in time with his breathing. McGee isn't a tactile man by any stretch, but right at this moment - with his mood pleasantly lubricated by Abby's Tennessee whiskey - he'd like nothing more than to squeeze the man in a hug and kiss him right on the top of his head.
He knows it's an unusual turn, this sudden fondness, and he surprises himself when he approaches the sofa, easing down beside it. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, McGee wakes his friend carefully by nudging at his shoulder. "Hey."
Tony blinks into semi-awareness. He raises a messy-haired head and looks around in momentary confusion. He finds McGee. "Hey, yourself," Tony grumbles. He pauses before adding, "Tha's the last time I'm taking on a fence to save your ass."
McGee grins, because that's the best thing he's heard all week.