a/n: I do not own any characters that you may have seen on NCIS, but Charlie McGee and any other characters that are unfamiliar are all my own.
Includes: Charlie(MOC)/Gibbs, slash. Light, nothing graphic. This will shoot between two different realitiesCURRENTLY and A DIFFERENT "KURRENTLY"
Summary:Charlie gets injured and goes into a coma; in one reality, Tim sits at his brother's beside; in another, Charlie and Gibbs are a couple. What?
HEART
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
CURRENTLY
Charlie McGee decided right now that he needed a car. He never needed one when he lived on base and never thought that he'd need one now that he was working at the Navy Range. He was fine with the bus, and with walking. That was probably the only time that he got out anyway, other than with Tim. It was sad, but after what happened with Rebecca... after she was killed, it was the last straw, he didn't have it in him to try and start something, all his focus was on his twin, Tim.
He was probably using his brother as an excuse, a pretty good one especially with the other man's job, but now was not the time for that. This current situation deserved severe thought and concentration.
He wasn't feeling to good at the moment, with good reason.
He was on the bus from the Range. A tanker went down and there was a big pile-up, his bus was a part of that. He could smell burning fire. There was smoke, car alarms, the sound of harsh sirens from fire trucks, police and ambulances. Help was on the way and he didn't think that he was going to die despite the fact that he was thoroughly pinned and his vision was black and he didn't think that not really being able to feel anything was a good sign. But he'd been through a lot; his attempted suicide and being strangled; he'd survived those- granted, Tim had been there for the former and Gibbs (though Ziva was more helpful) for the latter.
He knew that he should be more concerned about the blood that was coming from his head, leaking into his eyes, and ears. The blood that flooded into his mouth from his throat- the blood in general, but as his mind faded... well, lets just say that he kinda felt worryingly content.
Never a good thing, content wasn't a good thing.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
A DIFFERENT "KURRENTLY" (with a "K"!)
Charlie groaned. His back was killing him. He kicked off the blankets and slid from the bed. He stumbled out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom with closed eyes. He felt his shins hit cool porcelain before he shoved his boxer-briefs down to his ankles and held his dick, releasing his full bladder. He found a hand going around back to rub his lower back, wincing.
"Back hurting again?"
"Mm." Charlie nodded. "That bed is horrible."
There was a chuckle and Charlie felt them behind him, fingers on his sore back. "That's why I sleep on the couch."
Charlie moaned as his bunched muscles straightened out and stayed where he was long after he was done urinating. "There's this place, you know, where you can buy mattresses."
Breath puffed against Charlie's neck as the person chuckled again. "You can always sleep on the couch with me." they suggested.
This time Charlie was the one who laughed, "There's no room down there."
"That's the whole point," Gibbs in a gruff voice, and Charlie could feel the man press into him.
Charlie's eyes snapped open and he went rigid. Gibbs? Did he just hear Gibbs' voice!
"Hey," Gibbs' voice was quiet, light with concern. "You OK?"
"What-" Charlie wiggled from Gibbs' hold (quite stealthily he thought) and jerked his underwear back up to his hips. He turned back to Gibbs' who was in a pair of track pants and t-shirt. Charlie really wanted to blurt out: what the hell was going on? But instead he forced his expression to cool. "I'm good." he said awkwardly. "You?"
Gibbs looked him down with his steely gaze; that one that would make any suspect crack and even confess that they wetted the bed when they were ten, but Charlie stared right back with his jade gaze, not affected as always.
"I got a call." Gibbs told him. "I'll be back later."
Charlie nodded, unblinking.
Gibbs looked at him for a moment longer before he left for the bedroom and headed to the closet. Charlie stayed exactly where he was as Gibbs dressed, went down stairs to the kitchen and guzzled down a smoking hot black coffee, before he heard the engine turn over in Gibbs's truck before it pulled from the drive. And even after that Charlie stayed where he was, astounded. He didn't understand what the hell was going on. This was not his apartment, and he sure as hell never slept with Gibbs before. That was too messed up for him, that was Tim's boss. But it would seem that he had because of what just went down, there was no other explaining it. Gibbs had clearly wanted to sex him up, which was bizarre (Gibbs being anything sexual seemed alien). So what was going on? This wasn't normal, he was sure of it.
He left the bathroom and went through the whole place, top to bottom. This was definitely not his apartment, but instead Gibbs' house. Or apparently theirs. Charlie had a relationship with his brother, a close one, so they talked to each other about everything, one such thing was Tim's work and his team. So therefore, as a by protect, Charlie heard about Gibbs. He knew what happened to the older man, and there was one thing that they had in common other than their stares. Charlie knew that the man built things in his basement, mainly boats, and was a magician at somehow getting them out of there. And Charlie did find the starting product of one such boat. Clearly Gibbs' house. But also his too because Charlie found his clothes, his tooth brush; photos, the team, him and Tim, him and Gibbs. Proof. Proof that he had gone delusional.
This didn't seem right, he didn't remember any of this. But then how had he known what he said to Gibbs? A shivered traveled through him a the reminder. What the hell was happening? This had to be a dream or something, right? There was no other explanation…
Unless he suffered a head injury recently or something.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
BACK TO CURRENTLY
Tim was pale as he set his phone back into the receiver. He was numb. What... Charlie. This couldn't happen, not again. Something hit his cheek and he turn his head to look at DiNozzo.
"What's up, McPalester?" the Senior Agent asked, sitting up straight in his chair, drawn by his concern, Ziva looked up from her computer.
Tim looked between the two of them, his mouth opening and closing. "The hospital... Charlie…" he managed. He was quiet for a moment, his gaze unfocused.
"McGee-" Ziva started, getting from her seat.
And then Tim suddenly snapped into focus. "I have to go!" he suddenly shot from his seat and to the elevator.
"McGee!" DiNozzo called.
Tim didn't answer though and jabbed his finger on the bottom. It seemed like forever before the door slid open and he shoved himself inside and next to Gibbs. Instead of stepping out, Gibbs stayed where he was as Tim gabbed the ground floor button and the doors slid closed again.
"McGee?" Gibbs questioned, a brow raised.
Tim was breathing hard, pale and his hands clammy. He didn't have time to explain, he just wanted to get to the hospital and to his brother. But apparently Gibbs thought it was.
"McGee!" Gibbs snapped, tapping the back on his young Agent's head.
Tim's attention finally jerked to Gibbs.
"Where's the fire?"
"Charlie..." Tim tried again. "Charlie's in the hospital."
"I'll drive." Gibbs said.
"Boss-" Tim started to protest.
"I'll drive." Gibbs ordered.
Tim nodded, knowing that driving was not the best idea for him at the moment.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
THE DIFFERENT "KURRENTLY" (with a "K"!)
Charlie had gotten dressed and then he got out of there. He didn't know what the hell was going on so the first thing that he did was go to his apartment. He was gonna take the bus, but even the thought made him green. So he walked. But when he got there, it wasn't his apartment. He didn't live there anymore, apparently. So he really did live with Gibbs. Something must be really wrong. He went to the Navy Range where he worked, or hoped that he still worked. And he did, which was a relief. He spent the rest of the day there, his mind blank. Nothing made since in this place. And probably the only person that he could rely on was Tim. If he told Tim then he'd be under brother-brother-confidentiality. Hopefully, his brother would be able to get away from Gibbs.
Tim was thankfully at the moment free, and Charlie got his brother to meet him at this coffee place, hopefully without telling Gibbs because- what the hell was happening?
He sat at the table outside the shop on edge. His leg wouldn't stop bouncing and the only reason he got the cup of coffee was so that he had a reason to be there. But finally, Tim showed up looking worried. As his brother took the seat across from him, Charlie forced himself not to snap about time!
"What- are you okay?" Tim asked him. "You sounded strained on the phone."
"I am more than strained, Tim." Charlie said through his teeth. And he was, he even said so, "I loosing my mind!"
Tim looked at him. "Um, clearly."
Charlie scowled at him. "This is no time for joking!"
"Okay. So than what is wrong?"
Now Charlie wasn't sure what to say, not now that he had the opportunity. 'Cause this sure as hell didn't feel like a dream, so it had to have been real. So Tim would know, the pictures in the house indicated that. And Gibbs was his boss. So maybe Charlie could pull it's just one of those days days. 'Cause he was sure that he couldn't just come out and say it.
"Uh," Charlie looked down at the table top. "You didn't tell anybody you were coming, did you?"
"I had to tell Gibbs, we're working a case." Tim said.
"Right," Charlie nodded. "But you didn't tell him it was me, right?" he looked at his brother now.
"No." Tim sighed. "I told him that there was a problem with Jethro at the sitters and I had to drop by."
Charlie nodded, letting out a breath. "Good."
"Why, uh- Why didn't you want me tell him? You two are together..." Tim said awkwardly.
"Yes. Can we talk about that?" Charlie asked, maybe a little too eagerly.
Tim looked so uncomfortable. "Do we uh, have to?"
Charlie nodded rapidly. "Please."
Tim's face scrunched up. "You know I'm not comfortable with this."
"Tim... I am having one of those days." Charlie told him.
"What!" now Tim snapped to attention, no longer uncomfortable. "You told me that this stopped happening."
"And what exactly stopped happening?" Charlie asked him through a squinted gaze.
Tim let out a worried breath. "After the accident-"
"Whoa!" Charlie stopped him. "What accident?"
"Oh. This is serious."
"Duh!"
Tim rolled his eyes. "After Rebecca was killed," he watched his brother's reaction, Charlie's eyes glazed over and his expression was the definition of both mental and physical pain, it was there for an instant and then shoved down. "You and Gibbs sorta became friends in the year that fallowed and during the year after you became deeper than that. One day you were one your way to work when there was a pile-up. You suffered brain damage and sometimes have trouble with memory recall."
"Like... what kind of relationship with Gibbs do I have now?" Charlie asked, right now not bothering with the whole accident thing, though it might explain the tense-ness about the bus.
Tim look rather uncomfortable again. "The sexual kind." he mumbled.
"What?"
Tim closed his eyes for a moment. "You don't know how uncomfortable this makes me."
Charlie did get how uncomfortable this would make Tim. His boss was in a relationship with his brother, his twin brother. That was different than a regular brother, because having your boss like your twin in that way, means that he finds you attractive as well. The only thing that distinguishes the two of you is your personalities. Tim bashful, Charlie blunt.
"I think that I'm in the same spot as you right now."
"What?" this time it was Tim's turn.
"I wake up and take a piss, and then I find my brother's frustrating-ass of a boss real close saying sexual remarks in my ear." Charlie told him rudely.
Tim's face was scrunched.
"Does this make me gay?" Charlie questioned.
"I-" Tim floundered. "I don't know! I guess it does since you're with him."
"Of course," Charlie hung his head.
"Are you-" Tim started.
"Can you not tell Gibbs about this?" Charlie interrupted, looking up again. "I don't want him to make a big thing about this."
Tim looked at him for a long moment before he nodded reluctantly. "As long as this is okay."
"Everything is great." Charlie nodded, a tight smile on his lips.
Tim glanced at his watch as he let out a breath through his nose. "I have to go..." he said.
"Obviously," Charlie said. "And I'm fine."
"'Kay. You'll call if you need anything?" Tim said.
"Won't even have to think about it." Charlie told him and Tim left.
Charlie stayed where he was for a while longer. This had to be real, Tim wouldn't lie to him like that.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
CURRENTLY; BETHESDA HOSPITAL
This was a time that Tim was glad that Gibbs was a crazy driver. They arrived quick enough that Tim didn't somehow have a mental breakdown and a bonus was that they didn't crash. He was running on high and barely resisted the urge to tear open the entry doors to the hospital when it seemed like forever before they opened automatically. Getting to the front desk was no trouble either; him being able to find it so quick was both a good thing and a concerning thing. He'd be able to get information about Charlie quicker, to ease his panicked mind. But it meant that he'd been here so many times that he knew where it was.
"Excuse me-" Tim started, but the nurse at the front desk held up a finger and continued to speak on the phone. Tim clenched his jaw.
Gibbs put a hand on Tim's shoulder, trying to calm his youngest Agent. "Take a breath, McGee."
Tim looked at him and did, but it did little to calm him down. His brother was in here somewhere, and he wanted to know where right now! But Gibbs had distracted him enough for the nurse to finish her conversation on the phone and turn to him.
"Sorry for the wait," she told him. "How may I help you, sir?"
"I'm looking for my brother, Charles McGee. I got a call that he was brought in from a pile-up." Tim said, Gibbs forgotten.
The nurse hit the keys on the board from the computer with a speed that could nearly match Tim's. "McGee, Charles. Yes, he was brought in a few hours ago. And you're the next of kin?"
"Yes." Tim nodded rapidly.
"Okay. He's in surgery at the moment, that's all I can tell you for now."
"And how long is that going to take?" Gibbs asked because Tim looked like he was going to scream.
"He came in critical," the nurse said. "So it could be hours."
"Then we'll wait." Gibbs said and led Tim away before he could say something that he would regret. He had to push the younger man into the seat before taking one himself. "Charlie's going to be fine, McGee." he told him.
Tim's face was grim. "I know, but that doesn't mean I can't worry."
"Didn't say that."
Tim rubbed his face roughly. "I know."
"Charlie is tough, Tim."
"You don't think I know that!" Tim snapped. This was probably the only time that he's ever snapped at Gibbs, was when Charlie ended up in the hospital. The first time was when Charlie tried to kill himself and the second time was when the killer was after him, but only had opportunity for Charlie. "You know, Charlie's a lot like you. And I don't know whether that's a good thing or not." he remarked.
Gibbs smirked. "He has a mouth, alright."
Hours passed, probably seven before the surgeon came. Tim was out of his seat before the man stopped and Gibbs didn't wait too long to follow.
"Agent McGee, Agent Gibbs. Dr. Fields." the doctor shook their hands. "I believe the last time we met, you Agent McGee, were admitted for a gunshot wound."
Tim nodded, that was the first time he'd been shot.
"Your brother. He was critical when he came in and is still critical at the moment unfortunately. The trauma that he suffered was extensive; his femur, clavicle, several ribs, hip and mandible were broken. One of his lungs were punctured. He suffered multiple internal traumas. Luckily were able to set all of his breaks, and re-inflate his lung as well as repair his internal damage. But those were superficial injuries," Fields explained, "He suffered major head trauma. Multiple fractures to the skull, bleeding and swelling of the brain. He's in a coma,"
"What-what does that mean?" Tim asked, having paled at the long list of injuries that his brother was in ownership of.
"It means that the only thing we can do is wait and hope that the swelling goes down or we're going to have to take him into the operating room again, and in his current condition, that is not an ideal thing." Fields said. "He's in critical condition so we've placed him in intensive care. I will allow you to see him for a few minutes, but that will be all the time you'll have until he's out of the red."
Tim nodded, he just wanted to see his brother. And he wished that he hadn't because he'd never seen Charlie like this before when he went into the ICU. Charlie was everything that Fields had said. His whole leg was encased and elevated, his whole torso was wrapped, his head bandaged and he was covered in scrapes and bruises. There was butterfly-strips over various areas and he was hooked up to multiple leads; which led to the fact that Fields seemed to have forgot to mention that Charlie was hooked up to the respirator.
Tim wanted badly to go over and hold his brother, just touch him. But it looked as if touching him right now probably wasn't going to help Charlie.
"God, Charlie." it came out as a choked sob and Gibbs placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. And Tim was glad for that.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
"KURRENTLY" (with a "K"!)
Charlie had tried putting it off, going back to Gibbs' place- or, as he kept having to remind himself: their place. Because he was gay and attracted to Gibbs, was in a relationship with the man. A relationship with the guy that made him grind his teeth, want to scream and yank all his hair out. Yes, that guy. The one that glared and head-slapped and bossed. And Charlie was sure that he was loosing his mind, because there was no way that what Tim told him was the truth.
After Donna was killed, Charlie never got into a relationship with another woman. It wasn't as if he didn't have needs, he did and when Rebecca had gone over to a friends house or was out for the night, that was when he took care of those needs, behind locked doors and to a picture of his deceased wife. He didn't have to energy or the heart to start a relationship with a woman that he was never going to be fully committed with. And he kept saying woman because he wasn't gay. Yes, he knew an attractive person when he saw one, but he wasn't attracted to men. He never even went through that faze. He met Donna in his junior year of high school, she was eighteen when she got pregnant with Becky. After he graduated collage he joined the Navy. She was his one and only, and when she had gotten pregnant with Rebecca, he made an official request to be able to stay in Washington as a Recruiter- and he was a good one too. And then after Rebecca was killed, he didn't see the point in trying to form any relationships out of the ones that he already had and so all his focus was put onto his younger twin brother, Tim; and of course he had way more free time after he got the transfer request from being a Navy Recruiter to the Navy Range.
So how had he ended up here without even realizing it? In a relationship with his brother's boss for a year now it would seem. Not only that, but they lived together and he was now, out of the blue, attracted to men.
So with this craziness warring around in his frazzled brain, Charlie McGee went home to his boyfriend Leroy Jethro Gibbs- the man who might as well give him a pulmonary embolism.
Charlie could remember the last time he'd been this nervous and on edge; it wasn't when Rebecca was born, it was actually when-and as crazy and weird as it was-was when she got her period. This was the sign that signalled the fact that Rebecca wasn't his little girl anymore, and he didn't have Donna there to guide them through this transition. This was a time when Rebecca was interested in boys, every father's nightmare. And she went through things that Charlie couldn't even begin to comprehend; he only thanked god for Sarah. Sarah had just graduating high school at that time, an adult, female-so Charlie was glad that Rebecca had his sister slash former cousin. So Charlie had been a nervous wreck every time that week came around each month, up until the day she was killed. And even now, sometimes he would forget, two years later; sometimes he'd catch himself thinking: tomorrow it begins.
But this was different. That was his daughter, and this was Gibbs. His lover, his boyfriend. So what was he going to do? Did he kiss Gibbs back when the time came? And what about sex for that matter? In the bathroom this morning, he'd been happy and content when Gibbs' arms were around him, his breath on the back of Charlie's neck. That had been real, and seemingly familiar as well.
"What's up?" Charlie said, albeit awkwardly as he slid into the chair at the kitchen table.
Gibbs stared at him for a very long moment before he set the plate down in front of the eldest McGee, and sat across from him. "You forgot your phone." Gibbs spoke.
"What?" Charlie looked up from the plate.
"No phone-"
"Okay. And, yes, I remember what happened the last time!" Charlie growled before Gibbs could say anything more.
No one interrupted Gibbs, his steel gaze stated so; but Charlie just glared right on back.
"How was your lunch with McGee?" Gibbs said, their gazes locked.
Surprise registered on Charlie's expression for a split second before he reigned it in; of course Gibbs knew, like Tim always said, he knows everything. "It was fine."
"You wouldn't be cranky if you slept on the couch." Gibbs subtly hinted.
Charlie couldn't help but snort at the try. "The beds only the half of it." he said riley.
"And what's the other half?"
Charlie looked at him for a long moment, he could tell Gibbs, couldn't he? That was what relationships were for and they'd been together for a year already. He and Donna had told each other everything, as cliché as that sounded; they were high school sweetheart who got married at twenty. "I kinda forgot. That was why I called Tim."
"I know." Gibbs said.
"Of course!" Charlie scoffed. "Because as it is foretold, Leroy Jethro Gibbs is an alien." and he could have sworn that Gibbs' lips twitched.
They ate after that. In silence. And Charlie actually found it a little more than bearable, which said something. After they were finished, Gibbs cleared away the dishes, something that Charlie viewed upon with something akin to amazement, and before he left, Gibbs paused at Charlie's side, a hand on his shoulder.
"You should sleep on the couch tonight." he suggested, pecked him on the head then went down to his lair in the basement.
Charlie sat there for a long while, assessing that kiss on the head. It was odd and weird, but he didn't find it repelling, which again said something. Hell, a lot of things were being said tonight. It was new and it was Gibbs. That night Charlie didn't do the couch, but instead did that horrible bed, he wasn't ready for that kind of night-time commitment.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
CURRENTLY; NCIS HEADQUARTER, BULLPEN
"Tim," Gibbs snapped, but it was gentle and he used McGee's first name; that was always a warning sign for the Senior Agent and the Officer that things were not going that good in the hospital.
It seemed to snap Tim from his daze, something that he's kept falling into these past weeks since Charlie was emitted into the hospital; he was still in a coma. "Phone records, bank records, anything and everything. Got it, boss." he didn't look up at the three faces that looked down at him with unmasked worry, instead he went for the keys.
It was quiet for a long moment and Gibbs let out a silent sigh. "DiNozzo, David; interviews." he said, turning to his two other Agents. But they didn't move. "Now!" he snapped, with volume and command this time; they snapped into action, grabbing their gear and weapons before scurrying off to the elevator.
He turned to look back at his youngest Agent, who was trying to force his mind onto the case and not his brother. Gibbs could understand. The last time there was a visit to Bethesda was when Gibbs got shot twice and Charlie had died for about a minute and ten seconds. Gibbs had been worried than, but now Charlie was in a coma, hooked to a ventilator (the breathing tube in his nose) with the possibility of brain damage. At least the last time Charlie had been up and making wise-cracks, getting deeper under Gibbs' fingernails. He'd come to except McGee's doppelganger; it was almost like they were a package now. Tim deserved that kind of companionship and Gibbs enjoyed the challenge that Charlie brought to the table. If he ever found who was cruel enough to do this to one man, they were sure as hell going to have to pay for it. He gave another internal sigh before he turned from his Agent and to the elevator, heading down to autopsy.
The second that Gibbs was out of sight, Tim's shoulders slump and he stopped his fingers movements on the keyboard. The energy that he had put into looking busy with finding the information drained; he did this everyday, he didn't need energy, he could do this work in a coma- obviously a bad choice of words, a set that depressed him even more. He didn't think he'd be able to-
His phone rang and out of habit he picked it up. "Agent McGee," his voice was hallow.
"Tim..." the voice was soft.
Tim found as smile as he heard the familiar voice and glad that he'd picked up the phone. "Sarah..."
"How've you been, Tim?" she asked him gently.
"I'm about for a dark corner." Tim told her truthfully; he couldn't lie to his baby sis, she was smarter than that.
She was quiet for a moment. "I went to see Charlie today." she said.
"Nothing's changed."
"Do you know what comas are, Tim?" she took his silence as answer and continued with, "It's the body in sleep mode so that it can reserve its energy to heal itself."
"What a smarty pants you are." Tim deadpanned.
She giggled, "Edible too!"
Tim couldn't stop the chuckle; despite her being in university, she was still such a kid.
"Charlie is going to be fine." Sarah said, suddenly sober.
"I know." Tim whispered. "I know."
"Good." he could practically hear the nod. "I love you, Tim."
"I love you, too, Sarah."
"And don't forget it." she told him and hung up.
After a moment, so did he. He sat there for a while, just going through it for a second. That call was probably nothing, but hearing Sarah's voice and listening to her words... it gave him comfort. Like he could relax for a moment. Charlie was fine, he was going to be fine.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
"KURRENTLY" (with a "K"!) DIFFERENT; St. PETER'S CEMETERY
The cold and the damp of the ground seeped through the ass of his jeans, causing the moisture to freeze his skin and made his butt numb. He could have brought a lawn chair, or a foot stool- hell, he could have even used his jacket. But this was a graveyard, and he seriously didn't care right now; it wouldn't've made a difference with his clouded mind.
Charlie needed someone to talk to; he couldn't talk to Gibbs about his problem, it would be too awkward with Sarah and even more so with Tim. That was everyone he had, or, at least everyone that was alive. But he still had Donna and Rebecca, so that was where he was now.
Saint Peter's Cemetery, and in front of Charlie was his:
Donna Sarah McGee
1980-2005
~Beloved and Devoted Wife~
~A God-sent Mother~
And:
Rebecca Margret McGee
1997-2011
~Kindred Daughter~
~Gone Too Soon~
But with Donna's stone, there was another caption; one that was there because she was buried along with the twins:
Jefferson Carl McGee
Jeremiah Paul McGee
2005
~Taken From This World Before
They Could Arrive~
He'd placed Frankie in a Pet Cemetery, Rebecca had never been able to accept another companion after that English bulldog. His parents were buried in this cemetery as well. His whole family was here. It was depressing and he'd even tried to join them once; but he did still have Tim and Sarah as well. Charlie also realized that talking to the dead was just stupid, it wasn't as if they talked back, but they did listen and that was always helpful. It let whoever was talking come to their own conclusion, one that they already knew but just needed to put the words in someone else's mouth- and why not a dead loved one? So that was why he was here; Donna had always known what to do and Rebecca had really informed for a fourteen year-old.
He sat on the short, green grass, his legs crossed with his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers as he stared into the darkness of the night; trying to find out where he should start or what he should even say.
"I know that you girls are probably mad at me; I haven't come around in a while. There are things that I don't remember, but I can never forget the two of you." Charlie spoke softly. "I guess... I guess I should probably start with Gibbs. Now, I don't want you to get upset about this Donna. Gibbs is- well, I don't know what he is. Apparently- Becky, don't listen to this- we're in a committed sexual relationship. I have no idea how this has happened. I can't remember it; Tim said that I was in an accident that resulted in some memory loss and random black-outs. And Tim would never lie about something as serious as that." Charlie paused, taking a lung full of crisp cold air before he continued, "It's just- it's a little messed up. Not the gay-thing, but Gibbs? Really! I mean... it's so out there, and I keep thinking this is a dream, but if it was, I don't think I'd be able to fall asleep. There was this thing that happened in the bathroom, something that doesn't need to be delved into. And then a kiss on the head. Nothing real intimate, but I found that I didn't hate it either." he was quiet for a very long moment after that. He didn't hate it. That was new. "So... Should I just, um, just go with it?" he asked and of course there was no answer. He sighed and didn't move for a much while longer, fine with the silent company as he thought this through.
He didn't know how long he had been there for, but it was enough that his ass was completely numb and his legs had fallen asleep. He knew that he had to go home, probably right now. Gibbs was going to be pissed, Charlie hadn't told the other man where he was going and he forgot his phone again. So he was a bit- okay, a lot- out of it since that morning; but he had his reasons.
He had a little trouble standing up, but once he did he massaged his legs back into feeling. His butt was damp and a little numb, but did he need a butt for walking? So he stumbled through the darkened isles of the cemetery, using the moon's pale light for guidance. He passed name after name on headstone after headstone, this place was filled and he tried not to think about it. Two headstones flashed in the corner of his eye, and Charlie could have sworn that he'd seen Gibbs' name. He twisted around, taking steps backward as his eyes scanned the tombstones, looking to see if he was just picturing it. He didn't think that "Gibbs" (with the double b's') was a popular name, and he knew that Gibbs' had also lost his wife and daughter as well- what a couple they were. Couple? Charlie was startled at that thought; he just called them a couple. Where'd that-
Charlie never got to finish that thought though. He'd stepped back, ready to come to a halt at the startling revelation, when his foot met air instead of ground. He couldn't stop the fall; eight feet into an empty grave. He did windmill his arms; though it probably made things worse for him. It made him go in at an angle, and he smacked his head hard against the packed dirt wall. He was out with a grunt when he hit the bottom- definitely worse.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
CURRENTLY; BETHESDA HOSPITAL, CHARLIE'S ROOM
Tim jumped from his chair at Charlie's bedside and was pushed out of the way.
"He's flat lining!" Dr. Fields informed needlessly.
Tim was frozen, this couldn't be happening.
Quickly, Fields and the nurse at his side, discarded all the pillows and slings that was supporting Charlie's broken limbs and threw away the blanket; making him flat as he went into cardiac arrest and leaving him exposed. He was shocked as they pulled the breathing-tube out from Charlie's nose as well, and the Agent didn't understand how that could help any; but they were the doctors and he would trust them- as much as he could.
"Starting compressions!" Field said, folding his hands over Charlie's chest back and started to pump his hands hard as the nurse put a mask over Charlie's nose and mouth, squeezing the bag attached to it. "We need a defibrillator in here!" Fields yelled and a few seconds later another nurse rushed in with the machine. "Take over." Fields ordered the male-nurse, who did as instructed, taking over the compressions. Fields grabbed the cart and brang it around to the unoccupied side, he took the paddles out and held them both in one hand as he quickly squirted some clear gel on them. "Charging to one-hundred!" Fields announced as he turned a dial and rubbed the two paddles together. "Clear!" The male-nurse stopped his compression and the female-nurse took away the mask; Fields placed both paddles onto Charlie's wrapped chest. Spasm
Tim watched as Charlie's inert body reacted to the bolts of electricity that zap through him; all his muscles spasmed and seized and his back arched before he fell back to the bed, still. The monitor still showed that Charlie was still stuck in the flat linerealm. When Fields took the paddles away, both nurses where once again on Charlie again; compressions and breath-mask.
"Charging two-hundred!" Field said, and Tim could hear it. "Clear!" the nurses backed off and the paddles were again on Charlie's chest.
Tim felt his own heart seize as the volts went through his twin and his back arched. Tim had hoped that this would bring his brother back, but that hope was shot away when Charlie fell back down again, still dead. The nurses were back on him again, checking for a nonexistent pulse. They were working hard, the McGee brother could see the sweet beads accumulating on their foreheads.
"Three-hundred!" Fields called, "Clear!"
The nurses cleared.
Fields took a breath and dove in.
Tim knew that this was the critical moment, that if this didn't bring Charlie back then they were going to call it, that could not happen. He couldn't lose Charlie, especially not to some stupid bus accident! He couldn't not have his twin brother, it would be unbearable, like a part of him was cut away.
Charlie arched and it was like slow motion as he fell back down again. Sound was muted, the silence was defining and Tim's heart was starting to break. Charlie... he... he... Tim couldn't do it, he couldn't put the words together- he didn't want to. This was torture, he never felt a pain like this before and belatedly the thought that this was what Charlie must have felt when he lost Donna, the twins and Rebecca.
But then there was something. It exploded through the ringing silence. A beep. Tim couldn't breathe. He forced himself to look where Charlie was, his jade gaze split between his brother's wrapped chest, to the heart monitor. Because there it was again; a beep. And then another and another. Charlie wasn't gone. But Tim only relaxed when he saw that Dr. Fields shoulders relaxed and he put the paddles back on the cart, and the two nurses didn't jump into recovery-action. They fussed over Charlie as Fields came over to Tim.
"He's fine for the moment," Field reassured Tim, a comforting hand on the man's shoulder. "We're going to have to take him for scans now though, to make sure that there wasn't any resulting injuries, as well as to detect what had caused his heart to stop in the first place."
Tim could only nod as the two nurses wheel Charlie passed and through the door, the breathing tube back in. Fields stayed for a moment longer in concern before he fallowed the nurses and Charlie.
Tim's legs were shaking and were barely able to hold him up. He was covered in a cold sweat, skin pale, breathing laboured. But then they couldn't hold him up any longer and he sank to the floor.
Charlie had been fine. Fields had said just yesterday that he was doing fine, his brain scans were normal, heart, blood pressure, cell count, responses, soon he said that Charlie's lungs were almost ready to work on their own and the breath tube could be removed; despite him still being in a coma. Tim had come in at lunch for a visit, he did ever day and would only be able to stay for about twenty-minutes and would grab a burrito on the way back to NCIS headquarters; it wasn't much but he did it anyway. And them most nights he'd come as well, staying for as long as was allowed. But if Charlie had been doing fine, then why did he die?
Yes, Charlie wasn't dead, not anymore. And Tim felt so much relief, but it didn't change the fact that in those two-minutes, his brother was dead; he went through that process of that kind of loss. Charlie wasn't just his brother, he was his twin, his identical half. They grew into existence together, were born together, grew up together and thought that they were cousins for that time, there was still that bond.
Tim forced himself to breath, to get himself under control. He made himself get to his feet and he sat heavily into the chair that he had leapt out of when Charlie flat lined. He breathed for a moment before he tugged out his cell phone and dialled Gibbs' number.
"You're late, McGee." Gibbs answered and Tim cringed at the tone.
Tim took a breath. "And I'm going to be even later." he informed, backbone visible; only ever for Charlie's sake.
There was a beat of silence. "Is that so."
"Charlie went into cardiac arrest," Tim paused. "Dr. Fields managed to get his heart started. I'm staying until I know that he's alright and what caused it."
"Do what you gotta do, Tim." Gibbs stated before he hung up.
Tim did too and looked down at his phone with raised brows. That had been a little easier than he thought that it would be; but then again, Gibbs wasn't as cold-hearted as everyone thought he was, and Tim was also sure that he's grown to like Charlie. Satisfied with that thought, and not having to worry about the head slap of a lifetime, he could now focus on Charlie.
But he had to wait and waiting was always the hardest part.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
(with a "K") "-URRENTLY"; SAINT PETER'S CEMETERY
Charlie groaned and reached up to his head. He felt a spot on his forehead, there wasn't a bump or a cut, but as he prodded the flesh, he knew there was going to be a bruise. He opened his eyes. He was still down in the grave, eight feet. How does that even happen in real life; only in movies- but apparently that was wrong because here he was. And this world, it was confirmed that it wasn't a dream, because in dream when you fall, you wake before you hit the ground; if you didn't you were either awake or now in a coma, even dead.
He needed to get out of this though, and didn't have his phone. He sat up with a grunt and heave and brushed the loose dirt from his hair and off his clothes. He sat for a moment before he climbed to his feet, looking up and around him.
"Hello?" he called, just in case. But no such luck.
He wall obviously tall enough to reach the edge, and over it. And he tried pulling himself up like that, even jumping, but it was no good. He didn't have an leverage. He was a Navy Officer and something like this shouldn't be a problem, but alas it was. God, he didn't know the last time when was on duty, when he was on assignment. He might as well have resigned when he made a transfer request to the firing range; and he was out of shape, sure that he had let himself go. This was not a time for that and he ground his teeth in frustration. He breathed a harsh breath through his teeth, he was better than this. He was a merchant marine and he was better than this.
Charlie backed to one end of the grave, and bent his knees. This would give him that three-step start that should give him enough power for the jump. And so he did, he took those three steps and sprang, his arms out stretched. He grasped grass and dug the toes of his shoes scrambled at the loose dirt walls. He grunted a few times, blew out harsh breaths. His muscles quivered with the strain as he pulled himself up and out of the grave. He was left laying on the cold ground breathing rapidly and almost exhausted... he was embarrassed for himself. It was humiliating, and he was just glad that no one else was there to see it.
He pulled himself to his feet and out of the cemetery, and walking the way back home until he found a payphone. Charlie had thought about just walking all the way home, but he'd been gone for hours without telling anyone-especially Gibbs- and figured he might as well get the scolding and possible head-slaps out of the way.
He put in the two quarters and dialled Gibbs' number, something that he had memorized after the first time they met so that he could scream in Gibbs' ear if anything ever happened to Tim.
"Where the hell are you?" Gibbs' voice cracked through the phone like a whip and Charlie found himself cringing.
"At a payphone, obviously." Charlie said, picking at a fading sticker on the side of the box- and why the hell was he stalling? He was just making it worse and pissing Gibbs off in the process.
"Charlie..." There was a threat of harm in that tone.
"I am..." Charlie looked around him. "At..." he couldn't find anything. "Shit. Okay, meet me at the east entrance of St. Peter's Cemetery."
There was only silence from Gibbs, and they both hung up at the same time. Charlie stood there for a moment, sighed and then backtracked to the cemetery. he didn't know why, but he would have preferred if Gibbs hadn't know he was at the cemetery.
It was ten minutes before Gibbs' truck screeched to a halt in front of Charlie, and he knew that if it had been anyone else, he probably would have had to have waited twenty. He sulked into the truck and Gibbs didn't even look at him as he speed from the curb. Charlie watched him from the corner of his eye; Gibbs didn't say anything- at all- for the whole ride back home. And Charlie was starting to get a little fearful; if Gibbs talked, at least the McGee knew what was going through his head- well, relatively. It seemed like forever before Gibbs pulled into the drive though. And then he just got and walked into the house. Charlie was frozen for a second too before he slid from the truck and followed Gibbs.
Charlie turned and closed the door, and when he turned back, Gibbs was right there, his hands on either side of Charlie's face. Charlie looked at him with wide eyes as Gibbs' gaze bore down onto him.
"You forgot you cell phone, McGee."
"I know," Charlie told him.
"I've told you not to forget it when you go out." Gibbs told him, "You never told anyone where you were going, not even your brother. And something happened because you're dirty and have a bruise on your forehead."
"I was visiting my wife and children." Charlie bit back.
"And did you get into a rumble?" Gibbs questioned.
Charlie said through clenched teeth, "I fell into an empty grave."
Gibbs actually chuckled at that.
"It's not funny!" Charlie told him. "I got knocked out."
Gibbs stopped. "It's a boo-boo." he said and kissed the bruised spot on Charlie's head.
Charlie blinked in surprise.
And then Gibbs tilted up his head, and Charlie couldn't do anything as their lips touched. Charlie was frozen; shocked and surprised beyond belief. Was this happening? Was Gibbs actually kissing him? He knew that this had to of happened eventually, but so soon? Of course. That wasn't the really surprising part, it was the fact that he was kissing Gibbs back. Gibbs! And it felt weird and new, but not horrible.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
CURRENTLY; BETHESDA HOSPITAL, CHARLIE'S ROOM
Tim had waited five hours.
He didn't move from his spot. Not to pace, pee, anything. Abby had called multiple times, Ziva a few and Tony once or twice; he didn't answer any of them. They could have been work related-but he knew for a fact that Abby's weren't-and if they were, Gibbs would have called. So he let them go to voice mail and stayed were he was. It was silent, and it screamed it his ears; the clock ticked along with his heart and he was losing it.
The squeak of wheels brought him back to sanity and looked at the door of the room gratefully as one of the nurses from before and Dr. Fields wheel his brother back in. He quickly got to his feet. The female nurse started to get Charlie situated again, while Fields talked to Tim.
"We scanned him, did multiple X-rays and ultrasound scans; no damage was done from the by-product of being shocked." Fields told Tim in assurance. "After going over his brain scans, I've discovered that Charlie is in a dream state."
Tim looked at him in confusion. "What is that?"
"Well, there are three different comatose stages." Fields explained, "The first is when a person goes into a coma out of shock, either from physical or mental trauma done. The second is the dream state. And the last is a full black-out coma, where there isn't the chance of the person waking up and very minimal to no brain activity." the nurse finished with Charlie, gave the doctor a nod before she left the two men alone. "Charlie is in a very good position to the alternate."
"So what is a dream state?" Tim asked as he glanced at his still comatose twin brother.
Fields tucked Charlie's chart under his arm. "A dream state is something that the brain creates to help the victim cope with the trauma. This is a good phase because of all the brain activity; if there is brain activity, then there is a greater chance that there was no brain damage."
"But when will he wake up?" Tim's expression was tight with worry.
"It varies form person to person." Fields said very logically. "Similar with normal dreams, there is always an escape code. Say, falling. When you fall in a dream, you always wake up before you make contact. This is an automatic response. It is believed that when you fall in a dream and land before you wake up, you die. It is just a myth, mind you, but in comatose patients it is a risky one. When Charlie flat lined, there was major spike in his heart rhythm that corresponded with major spikes in his brain waves. But the thing about this phase is that it is the person subconscious that allows him to wake up, nothing we do here can change his condition."
Tim nodded, biting his lip. So it was Charlie choice whether or not he wakes up, and nothing that Tim did. This was disappointing, but it was good news too. No damage was done when Charlie flat-lined, his brainwaves seemed normal as Fields had said, but they wouldn't know for sure until Charlie actually awoke. And that could take days, months, even years.
Something bleeped instead of beeped and Fields turned to Charlie's bedside, Tim wasn't far behind. Fields glanced at the heart monitor as he took the stethoscope from around his neck, hooked it into his ears and held it to Charlie's chest. Tim watched anxiously, his green gaze flashing between his brother and the doctor.
Finally, Fields leaned back up and looped the stethoscope back around his neck. He scribbled something on Charlie's chart and pressed a few things on one of the machines that Charlie was hooked to, before he turned to Tim.
"He's alright," Fields assured the younger McGee, "His heart just reacted to his brain."
"So, he going to be fine?" Tim repeated, just to make sure.
"Yes, Agent McGee. But just in case we are going to keep a closer eye on him." he patted Tim's shoulder before he left the room.
Tim let out a long strained and tired breath as he looked down at the comatose Charlie, taking his brother's hand. After a month and a little more in the hospital, the bruises, cuts and scrapes had faded and healed. The non-dissolvable stitches removed, sprangs healed. Most of the casts had been cut down but none were removed, the fractures in his scull had healed, but he was still in a coma.
He was healing, just as Sarah had said. And soon, soon Tim knew that his brother was going to wake up and he wanted to be there. Standing here, he thought about using his vacation days, but knew that it would be smarter for him to wait until Charlie was awake.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
"KURRENTLY" (with a "K"); THE GIBBS/CHARLIE HOUSEHOLD
Charlie felt it bubble in his chest, trying to force its way through his throat. Felt it hook the corners of his lips, tugging them upward. Felt his nerves dance, his stomach full of fluttering wings, his heart set on clouds. The last time that Charlie had felt this way, was when he was fifteen and realized that he was in love with Donna. And now he was realizing that he was in love with Gibbs, an inconceivable concept, he knew, but a true one nonetheless.
He knew that he had been in a relationship with Gibbs for a year now, but when he woke everything felt like it was the first time. Like that kiss, the one at the door. After Gibbs had come and picked him up from the cemetery... Charlie could have sworn-no! He did swear-his heart skipped a beat. Yes, it was some teenage shit and he was well out of that era, but there it was, he, Charlie McGee had fallen in love again-this was something that the McGee didn't think was possible. He would have loved to share this with Tim, but his brother already knew and was awkward about it. That, Charlie could understand.
But he might have been a tad embarrassed about the fact. He didn't know if Gibbs felt the same way; hell, Charlie had thought him a basic robot before this. So, stone-face. He needed to shove it down; stop the grin, the giggle that wanted to come up, the jitters, calm his heart and swat them butterflies away.
Charlie waited until Gibbs was in the bathroom, getting ready to go down for the night when he snuck passed and into the living room. He splayed himself onto the couch, just in a pair of boxers. He tried not to feel nervous as he heard the steps creak with Gibbs' decent; the last time he had had sex was seven years ago- and that was with a woman. Gibbs was a man, a big man. Charlie had never had sex with a guy before.
Gibbs paused in the archway that led to the living room, the corners of his lips turning up. "Have you finally taken up my offer?"
Charlie smiled nervously, he knew that this was probably not a good idea. "I, uh-I can go if you don't..." he started to get up. What was wrong with him? Oh, yeah, he was in love.
"No!" Gibbs barked, his hand held out and Charlie froze. "You're perfect where you are."
Charlie paused for a second in awkwardness before he lowered himself back down, feeling even more awkward. He watched with wide eyes as Gibbs stepped into the living room, walked to him, his ice gaze intent. The NCIS Agent sat edge of the couch by Charlie's hip and looked down on the younger man, his arm on the back of the couch.
"This past 2 months you've been acting off," Gibbs said, and Charlie just stared at him silently. "You had another episode and didn't tell me." he stated it fact, like he did everything. His eyes were locked on Charlie's as he laid his free hand on the other man's bare stomach.
Charlie's skin jumped and twitched at the unfamiliar contacted, but it wasn't unwanted. He knew that the touch was nothing, he'd touched his stomach all the time, but Gibbs was touching it, and that was different. Gibbs thumb started a movement, the rough pad rubbing Charlie's sensitive skin in consistent circles. Charlie knew that this was nothing, hell, it wasn't even that sexual, but it sent tingles to all the right places-like a certain place that had long since been in hibernation for seven years, thereabouts.
Gibbs smirked as he saw Charlie's expression and it grew wider as he glanced down, and through the thin layer of material, could see that the man's cock was already responding.
"In withdrawal?" Gibbs chuckled, his fingers going to the waistband of his boxers.
Charlie swallowed and pursed his lips in response.
Gibbs seemed to find it quite enjoyable, as his fingers breached the elastic.
And it was like all the air left Charlie's lungs, they were sucked dry. His eyes rolled up into his skull, blood was rushing in his ears like a waterfall. By the time his gaze finally started to focus, he was on his side and Gibbs was moving inside of him. It was like everything was on fire, but it was the good kind of burn-and he wished that he could go back and start from the beginning. This was nothing like having sex with a woman, like with Donna. His cock wasn't surrounded by tight, warm, wet walls of muscle, but instead Gibbs' rough palm; And Gibbs was inside of him. Charlie didn't think that it were possible to fit, but with the quick calculation that it did, but it happened-was happening now.
It was happening. The build was near its bursting point; different from when he was in Donna, and different when he was by himself. Charlie focused on it, felt it grow until it filled him to the seams; and then there was this burning fire that seared him on the inside and he burst, gasping out-
[]N[]C[]I[]S[]
CURRENTLY; BETHESDA, CHARLIE'S ROOM
"Gz," Tim watched with widened eyes as Charlie's lips moved, they tried to shape a word around the wires in his mouth, by the sound of it, it was meant to be a gasp, but turned to a grunt when his brother found that he couldn't move his tongue beyond his teeth. Tim was sure that what Charlie had grunted was very familiar word, something that he heard on a daily bases, but at the moment he couldn't care because Charlie was finally waking up.
Dr. Fields was already there, keeping an eye on Charlie because for the last thirty-minutes his heart rate was increased, but now it seemed to be dying down. Field had the stethoscope out again and was moving it around Charlie's chest, he only pulled back when the man's heart rate dropped to a satisfying number. He already taken the breathing tube from his nose two days before, that was the first good sign, one that led to this.
"Charlie?" he coaxed. "Wake up. Come on, Charlie." Fields voice was soft, but held a command that only a doctor can.
Tim watched in anxious, nerve wracking, excitement as Charlie's brows worked, getting into the wake-up rhythm that was so familiar it might as well be Tim's own. Charlie tossed his head from side to side, groaning as his eye lids fluttered like butterfly wings, and he tried to work his jaw but was unable to due to the fact that it was wired shut. He tried to kick his legs, but they were stiff from the cast and were propped up on pillows. His arm came next, trying to flop up to his head, but they were caught on the leeds form the IVs. Charlie grunted as the needles in his arm tore.
Fields quickly put a stop to that before too much damage was done. "Charlie." it was a little sharper this time, but just enough, nearly like Gibbs' voice.
Charlie's eyes squeezed tight for a moment before they peeled apart, slowly and painfully; them having been sealed shut with eye gunk for nearly two months. But Charlie won, and Tim released a breath as he finally saw the pair of jade irises that mirrored his own. Charlie's gaze darted around the room in confusion; he tried to open his mouth-talk, lick his lips-anything but he couldn't seem to. He let out a distressed noise, his eyes widening in panic.
"Charlie," Fields voiced, trying to draw the man's attention. "Charlie." he repeated, finally drawing said man's gaze. "Charlie, it's Dr. Fields and your brother." Fields gestured to Tim who was on the other side of the bed, Charlie fallowed it and his eyes lit up with relief. Tim smiled back. "You're in the hospital," the doctor continued and Charlie reluctantly tore his gaze from his twin. "You were severely injured in a pile-up, so I need you to take it easy."
After a moment and a glance at Tim, Charlie nodded.
"Okay," Fields nodded back. "Now I just want to give you a quick check over first, and then I'll explain."
And thus ensued what Fields considered to be short, but what Charlie considered the opposite; and he especially hated the light flashed in his eyes.
"You've been in a coma for seven weeks," Fields dove right in, never one to beat around the bush like most doctors.
Shock spread across Charlie's face and he tried to speak, but once again his mouth wouldn't open. He growled, now was not a time not to be able to speak. He was in the hospital, seven weeks. He didn't even understand how something like that could happen without him realizing it. He reached up towards his mouth, it was like his teeth were glued together.
"You broke your jaw," Tim told him softly.
It was confirmed when Charlie felt the wires that barred his teeth together, this could not be happening. His eyes widened as they darted between Tim and Fields. He tried to talk but it was like his tongue was glued to the top of his mouth, it was so dry and all he could do was grunt. He looked to Tim, ready to make a drinking motion, but his brother was already ready for that and he held out a see-through plastic cup of water with a bendy-straw. Charlie took it with shaking hands and slipped the straw into his cheek. It took a second before he got suction and the lukewarm water went down hard.
"Easy," Fields told him.
Charlie did, and it went down more easily now that his throat had some use and his tongue gathered a little moisture. He pulled the straw out and Tim took the cup back.
"Go slow," Fields instructed, tilting the head of the bed up a fraction as Charlie started to push himself up, having difficulty. Only getting up right and settled with the help of both Tim and Fields, and he found out why. His right hip was encased, as well as his left thigh, and his ribs were wrapped tight and so was his shoulder. He couldn't feel any of it thanks to the painkiller, and he could only imagine what condition he might have been in two months before.
"You came in seven weeks ago from a pile-up, your femur, clavicle, several ribs, hip and mandible were broken, a few ribs too. We wired your jaw shut, and it'll have to stay like that for about another week; your clavicle has healed pretty well, but I want to leave it wrapped for a while longer and same goes for your ribs. We had to set your hip and femur with pins and the casts won't come off until another month at least." Fields informed him. "There was a great deal of trauma done to your head, which was the reason why you've been in a coma this long."
Charlie was looking at him blankly. Tim had tried to get a read on what that might mean, though it was obvious that his brother was in shock-Tim would be too if he were in this situation, actually, he was in this situation-he took his brother's hand.
Charlie looked at him. "All of this from a pile-up?" he asked in confusion.
"You don't remember?" Tim's expression, tone and body was the definition of fear and worry.
"It's normal after waking up from a coma to be confused, and placing memories that happened right before or during the accident." Fields assured the two of them, and they nodded in sync. "I'm going to go schedule some tests that I want to run, to make sure that you're alright; but for now I'll leave you two alone." he nodded to the both of them before he left the room.
There was silence, silence that surrounded the McGee twins as they just stared at each other, identical expressions on their identical faces. Charlie couldn't talk so Tim had to be the one to say something, he knew this. He had waited seven weeks for this moment, to have his brother back, awake and without any resulting damages-nearly. He had thought of a lot of things that he would say, but now that the moment was here, he was at a loss for words. So Tim just hugged Charlie. They were at an awkward position, but Tim made it work. It needed to work because he just wanted to hold his brother and it made him feel even better when Charlie wrapped the arm with his good shoulder and free of IVs around him in return.
"I'm so glad that you're okay." Tim whispered in his brother's ear and he could finally feel the real deep emotion seep to the top, felt the tears blur his gaze and burn down his cheeks onto Charlie's bare shoulder. Charlie buried his face in the crook of Tim's neck, and hummed, it was all he could manage with his wired jaw. But Tim took comfort from the hot breath puffing against his neck.
Charlie took comfort from his brother, took strength from him. His rock. He was awake right now, but he felt so tired. He'd been knocked out for two months instead of asleep, he really needed some shut-eye. But he wanted to spend more time with Tim; though instead of focusing on that, he mind was dragging itself through the mud at the weird epiphany dream world that he had... and the screwed up thing that it was with Gibbs. What the hell was that all about? He wasn't gay, not in the least; he had only ever been attracted to Donna.
It was longer than Tim would have liked, and if Gibbs was here there would definitely be a head slap; Charlie had long since fallen asleep, his breath coming in even bursts. After a moment he carefully laid Charlie back on the bed. He should have realized how tired Charlie would be, and he cursed himself for it. Tim sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his brother. He knew that he should call Gibbs, tell him that Charlie was awake and okay-but the thought of Gibbs brought something else to the McGee's mind.
Tim could have sworn that when Charlie woke up from his coma, he came out gasping Gibbs' name. But that was an absurd thought; he has barely gotten the proper sleep and his mind was making a fool out of him.
[]N[]C[]I[]S[] EPILOGUE
"KURRENTLY" (with a "K"); for the morning after
Charlie made his way to the bathroom in the morning like he did every morning; eyes closed and stumbling. The bathroom door was shut, only leaving a crack and that should have been indication enough that it was being occupied at the current moment. He didn't care though, the only other person here was Gibbs and they were boyfriends, weren't they? So Charlie toed the door open, stumbled until his shins hit the toilet, turned around, and let his boxer's drop before he sat on the chill porcelain.
"Glad to see you're comfortable." Gibbs deadpanned.
Charlie finally cracked open his eyes and looked at Gibbs, who was naked in the tub that was next to the toilet. He smirked. "You too." he grunted.
Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. "Do you have any dignity?"
"Sure, its dying to get out right now." Charlie told him.
"You are vulgar in the morning." Gibbs stated.
"You're vulgar all the time." Charlie countered as he leaned his elbows on his bare knees.
They had a mini glaring contest; and as always, it was a tie.
"You're the one that walked into this," Charlie told him seriously.
"How do you figure?"
"You know what happens each morning at this time," Charlie flashed him a wicked grin as his brows furrowed ever so slightly. "And you chose now to have a bath?"
"You need to get a better hobby, Charlie."
"Then stop encouraging this one." Charlie grunted.
Gibbs closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Do not even think about getting in here when you're done." his tone was serious and with threat. He heard the tear of paper and then the toilet flush, the tap running.
"Don't even have to dream about it," Charlie told him.
Gibbs looked up to find the younger man nude standing right there, hands on his hips, a glint in his jade eyes.
"Charlie..." Gibbs growled.
"What?" Charlie raised his hands. "I wasn't gonna until you said something,"
"Charlie..."
"Sorry, Gibbs!"
Splash!
"Charlie!"
f
and you obviously realized that eventually I will do some more Charlie McGee fics, but don't wait up for them right away