A/N: Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters doesn't belong to me. This is just for fun.
Reconstruction
Part I: Waiting
Chapter One: Realization
It had been three weeks.
Three freaking weeks and Tony was still able to hear the gut-wrenching, sickening sound that would change his life. He could still hear his own rapid breathing, his pulse rushing loudly through his ears and McGee's footsteps right behind him. He vaguely remembered shouting something at Ziva about hurrying the fuck up over the radio, but he couldn't remember the exact words anymore. However, he could still feel his blood running cold when they had finally rounded the final corner towards their boss and had realized that they were too late – just too fucking late. Though, they had arrived just in time to stand and watch in horror.
Tony still remembered it well. After all, it was playing in slow motion in front of his inner eye every single time he actually managed to fall asleep.
He could still see the guy lunge out towards the almost lifeless and severely bleeding body that was lying on the concrete in front of him. Like in trance, Tony had watched the guy hit one final blow on his boss; right on the back of his head, knocking all life out of him. And it had felt like all life had been knocked out of Tony, too. For a few long moments, he hadn't been able to remember how to shoot, how to move, hell, how to even breathe. It all hadn't seemed real. And - he had felt like dying himself right then, right there. How could he have let it happen? How could he have let Gibbs down like that?
He had still been staring at the lifeless form that was his boss when something had brushed against his side and he had realized that it was McGee who, in a moment of what had to be sheer rage and frivolity, had run forwards to tackle the attacker to the ground. To this day, Tony had no idea how his skinny partner had been able to wrestle down the guy that was twice his size, but maybe it had been the adrenaline that rushed through his veins that had made him do it. Tony didn't know and frankly, couldn't even bring himself to care. In fact, he had still been standing and staring when McGee had already cuffed the attacker and had then hurried to get to Gibbs. Only when he had been about to touch his boss, had Tony's instincts kicked in again and he had rushed to his side.
In the wee hours of the night, whenever Tony's defenses were down far enough to let himself think about those minutes, he couldn't help but wonder if things would be different had he reacted more quickly, had reached his boss earlier. Those thoughts didn't help but he couldn't stop them from coming. He knew that blaming himself for what had happened would not bring Gibbs back to him and yet they ate him up alive and he couldn't do anything about it.
While those few minutes seemed to have burnt themselves into his brain for all times to come, Tony wasn't able to completely recollect those that followed. He feebly remembered trying to stop the blood from, well, bleeding but it had seemed to no avail, as Gibbs had bled so profusely that Tony hadn't even known where to start putting pressure on. He also remembered Ziva calling an ambulance and with quite some embarrassment remembered the stinging in his eyes, too, and the tears that had almost fogged up his vision completely. He hadn't wanted to let go of the body, that was still warm but getting colder by the second, when the EMTs had arrived and he had only loosened his grip on him when Ziva had forcefully and yet surprisingly softly coaxed him to let the EMTs do their work and that Tony couldn't possibly help Gibbs right then.
And that was the worst of it. He hadn't been able to help Gibbs then and he couldn't help him now, either.
Now – that was in the hospital three weeks later. Gibbs had never regained consciousness since the beating. The doctors had been able to repair the various broken bones and had managed to keep the swelling in his brain in check, but Gibbs was still only lying there, just as lifeless as he had been on the hard concrete a couple of weeks previously. Tony had never left his side ever since then, save for the couple of showers he had taken and handing his leave of absence to the director. He had seen Gibbs like that before when that goddamn bomb had gone off a couple of years previously, and yet this time it was a totally different experience.
This time, his heart ached whenever he looked at the man, who seemed older than he ever could remember. Things had changed since the last time. So many things and Tony simply couldn't shrug off the feeling that if he had just done more for the guy, things would be even more different because Gibbs wouldn't lie there, fighting for his life with every breath he was taking.
But it wasn't just Gibbs' life that was hanging by a thread these days. Tony also felt like he was dying with every minute that his boss didn't wake up. The man had changed his life in so many ways those last couple of years that Tony couldn't imagine a world without him. He couldn't stand the thought of having to work without his boss, couldn't stand the thought of never getting head-slapped again and he simply couldn't stand the thought of going home and Jethro wouldn't be there; wouldn't be there to hold him at night, wouldn't be there – simply there.
Like every morning in the last three weeks, Tony watched the sun rise slowly through the window of the hospital room, praying to anybody that would listen that this would be the day that would change everything back around again; that he would wake up from this nightmare and would finally be able to talk to Jethro again. But when the doctor showed up a couple of minutes later for the usual morning round, Tony felt his gut twitch uncomfortably as he saw the look on Dr. Martin's face.
"Agent DiNozzo," he said. "I think it's time to talk about taking him off of life support."
And just like that, everything changed.
A/N: The outline for the entire story is finished; so are the first few chapters. Would love to hear your thoughts on this so far and let me know if you want it continued! :)
