Waiting

If there was one thing that Gibbs really hated it was waiting. But that seemed to be all that he had been doing for months, weeks, days and now hours.

But there was nothing more that he could do than sit here by the hospital bed at the military base and hope that his lover was strong enough to pull through this.

For months they had been waiting to hear from Ziva after she had tried to get Gibbs to turn his back on his lover in Tel Aviv.

He'd watched and waited while Tony tried to get past blaming himself for Ziva's absence. No matter how many times his family had told him he had done nothing wrong, that he was not to blame. But it never happened, Tony would smile and say he believed them but Gibbs knew Tony. The only thing that would help would be getting Ziva back or hearing it directly from her.

When they had finally gotten news about Ziva they were thrown into action. They finally had something to focus on. Find out what had happened to her or exact their revenge on those who had caused her death. Either way it beat not knowing.

Their months of waiting turned into a flurry of action that then lead to weeks of searching and waiting for intel, for reactions to what they were doing.

Gibbs had been relegated to waiting again.

Tony and Tim were on the ground, trying to draw attention to themselves. Trying to draw the terrorists out of hiding.

Gibbs had waited and watched his team as they had made their way through the desert. Following and reporting back to DC about what they were finding as they went.

Then it had happened.

Tony and Tim were captured.

All Gibbs could do was wait.

He followed them back to their camp and watched what was happening, and thanks to Abbs and her toys he was able to hear both Tony and Tim. His soul called out for him to act, to race into the compound where his lover was being held, tortured, drugged and questioned, to get him out of there. But they had a job to do and parts to play and he had to trust that their plan would pay out in the end.

He had to watch and wait until he had eyes on their target.

Had to wait for the right time to call in the teams that they had waiting in to action.

Had to wait until all the cards were out and they knew what was going down.

But it had been hard.

Gibbs had needed to call on all of his training and his strength to hold his ground. To provide the back up that he knew his lover was trusting him to provide. The only thing that had helped was that he was able to hear his lovers voice. He could hear Tim quietly checking in regularly as he continued to play possum as was the plan. As Tony grunted and taunted and talked. As he watched through his scope as Tony was taunted by their target. As their backup converged on their position, for the call to strike. As Tony was injected with drugs that he feared Tony would have a negative reaction to.

But Tony had done him proud.

Had done himself proud.

He fought and stayed in control, never letting the events and shocks shake him. And had given Gibbs the go ahead to kick start the final phase of their operation which looked like it might have a better outcome than any of them had feared to hope for.

As soon as he Gibbs had played his part and taken out the threat in the room where his people were he had double timed it to the compound, to make sure that they were safe, that they all made it out no matter how shaken and weak Ziva had sounded or the fact that Tony had been dosed up several times in the past few days with unknown drugs. And yes Gibbs could hear exactly how those drugs had been effecting his partner.

He'd stood in the entrance and watched his team helping each other. He saw the moment that Tony had realised that he was there.

The smile that had spread across Tony's face showed exactly how he felt in that moment. The joy of the success and of seeing Gibbs in his gilly suit.

Their backup had swarmed through the door, taking out the terrorists and securing the compound.

Then he watched in horror as Tony collapsed.

Time had slowed down as he had raced to Tony and his people. He saw the look of shock on Ziva's face and the horror on Tim's face as he shouldered Ziva's weight to keep her from falling as well.

Tony had gasped and had then started convulsing.

Gibbs had heard Tim calling for a medic the same time as he did.

Help arrived quickly and Gibbs' team was rushed back to the base, back to the medical help that his team needed.

That had been three days ago.

Tim had been treated for minor injuries, minor concussion and dehydration and had been released within a few hours of being admitted to the base hospital.

Ziva had been kept for two days, dealing with a mild concussion, malnutrition, cuts, bruises and other minor injuries. She'd also been made to talk to the base shrink to see how she had been effected by her ordeal.

Tony hadn't been so lucky. The accumulation of the drugs he had been given, the torture and questioning he had gone through and the stress that was placed on his body had been to much and his body had eventually had enough and had started to shut down and the adrenaline of the last few minutes of their captivity had started to fade.

The Doctors had done all that they could, but Tony's biggest problem was that the drugs had depressed his respiratory system and with Tony's medical history this was not good. They had video conferenced Dr. Pitt back in DC for advice and had consulted regularly over the past few days with the doctor. But it seemed that while they were doing all they could to help Tony, it was really up to his SFA and whether he was strong enough to fight his way back from his latest misadventure.

Tim and Ziva had stayed close to Tony's room once they had been released. Tony had not woken since he had collapsed back at the compound and the doctors were becoming more concerned the longer it took Tony to wake.

So here Gibbs was.

Waiting.

Watching.

Talking.

Hoping.

He told Tony that he still didn't have permission to die. That he had to wake up and come back to him. That he couldn't loose Tony now. That everyone was waiting for him to wake up so that they could go home. Back to the rest of their family.

It had been three days, eighteen hours and thiry seven minutes since he'd heard Tony's voice. The voice that had talked for days and misdirected terrorists while his backup moved into place.

The base was as quiet as it got.

Then Gibbs waiting was over.

The machines that had been monitoring Tony's vitals picked up and the hand that Gibbs had been holding moved, flexed.

Gibbs stood up and looked at his lover closely, hoping, praying, begging for Tony to wake up, to come back to him.

Then Gibbs got his miracle.

Tony's eyes opened and as soon as he focused on Gibbs a soft smile broke over his face.

Gibbs leant over the bed and kissed his lover. And if a tear fell, then neither of them would mention it.