Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. I just borrow them.
"Here we go. Let's get you settled on the couch, shall we?"
"Ducky, I really can…"
"Nonsense, Jethro. Stop being so difficult and let us help you."
Gibbs sighed and gave in, allowing Ducky and Tony to all but carry him to the couch. Tony adjusted the pillow behind his back and Ducky put one under his leg to keep it elevated.
"I have crutches," Gibbs argued weakly in response to Tony's offer to bring him something to eat.
"Jethro, you heard the doctor. You need to stay off that knee for a few days. I don't want you wandering around on your crutches." Gibbs gave Ducky a look, but history told him it was pointless to argue. "Anthony, get him a glass of water so he can take these pills."
"I don't need any pills," Gibbs griped, but Ducky ignored him, taking the glass from Tony and putting the painkillers in Gibbs' hand.
"There now. These will make you drowsy, but they should help with some of the pain." He turned back to Tony. "Perhaps you could make him a sandwich. He really shouldn't take those on an empty stomach."
"I can make my own…" Gibbs started to protest. A look from Ducky stopped him and he finally relaxed against the pillow. Tony returned a few minutes later with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a glass of milk.
"Eat that," Ducky ordered. This time, Gibbs did what he was told without complaint – he'd decided he was hungry after all.
Ducky ushered Tony into the kitchen so they could talk without Gibbs interrupting them. "You're going to stay with him. Make sure he stays on that couch. If he needs to use the bathroom, you'll need to help him. But he is not to go up or down stairs. I'll be back tonight to check on him."
Gibbs sat up at the sound of the front door opening and closing.
"Omigodomigodomigod!" Abby had arrived. "Are you ok?" she asked, almost in tears.
"Abbs, I'm fine. It's just a sprain," Gibbs answered, hoping to ward off a full Abby Panic Attack. "Really, it's nothing."
"Well I'm going to stay here and take care of you," she said decicively.
"Tony's here and he's…" Gibbs began, but Abby cut him off.
"I'm going to go make you some of Grammy's famous Turtle Soup. It cures everything!" Abby announced and headed for the kitchen.
"Where are you going to get a turtle?" Gibbs asked, but she didn't hear him. He shook his head and settled back against the pillow just as the front door opened and closed again.
"Gibbs!" Ziva cried. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine Ziva," Gibbs answered, but she didn't seem to hear him. He twisted as much as he could to look at her and saw that she was loaded down with cleaning supplies. Her hair was pulled back in a bandana and she was pulling on yellow rubber gloves. "What are you doing?" he asked incredulously.
"I am going to clean your house. You can not possibly be expected to do it in your condition," she answered matter-of-factly just as Tim came into the house. He too was carrying cleaning supplies.
"Ziva, I can clean my own house," Gibbs protested. "I'm not going to be on crutches for more than a day or so. You really don't need to do that."
"Gibbs," Ziva answered flatly, "I am Jewish. Do you even know how much cleaning we do before Pesach?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, but she was off, Tim trailing behind.
"Hey Boss," Tim called as he hurried to follow Ziva.
She was spouting out instructions as she walked through the house. "Obviously we will need to mop all the floors, change the beds, clean out the closets, oh, and the shelf paper in the kitchen cabinets will need to be changed out."
Before Gibbs could call out another protest, Abby came out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl of soup. "Now you eat this all up, Gibbs and you'll feel better in no time."
"Abbs, I don't have a col…what is that?!" he looked with great alarm into the bowl of broth and vegetables.
"They're turtles," Abby answered, slightly offended.
"But…they're…"
"Oh, don't worry. I made them out of tofu. You can't really think I would put real turtles in there!"
"You carved turtles out of tofu?" Tony asked, joining them in the living room.
"Where have you been?" Gibbs asked.
"I was out mowing the lawn, washing your car, oh, and I cut down that tree in the front yard you're always complaining about," Tony said. "I'm going to go take a shower." And before Gibbs could get a word out, he bounded up the stairs. A few second later Gibbs heard, "But I need a shower. You can regrout it later, McHandyman."
Suddenly, Ziva called up the stairs for Tim to come down and help her. Gibbs tried to see what she was doing, but Abby was suddenly holding a spoon of soup in front of his face. "Gibbs, eat this," she insisted.
"I don't eat tofu, Abbs," he said, trying not to sound ungrateful.
"You need the protein. Besides, with the broth, it will taste just like chicken. Now eat."
The front door opened and closed again and Jimmy walked into the living room. "Hi Agent Gibbs. How's your knee feeling?"
"It's fine Palmer. What are you doing here?" Gibbs asked around a mouthful of carrot.
"Oh, Ziva called me and asked me to stop by when I was done with work. She said she could use another pair of feet. I think she meant hands," Jimmy explained needlessly.
"Jimmy? Is that you?" Ziva called from the basement.
Jimmy grinned shyly at Abby then turned and hurried into the kitchen and down the stairs.
"Gibbs, eat!" Abby ordered again.
Gibbs took another bite of the surprisingly delicious soup, but almost spit it out when he heard Ziva's voice. "No, McGee, you need to get on this side. Jimmy, you stand on that side and I will stand here. When I count to three, you need to lift the boat so I can clean underneath it."
He swallowed quickly and shouted toward the kitchen, "Don't touch my boat!"
"Boss," Tony called. "Boss, wake up."
Gibbs stirred, "Don't touch my boat," he mumbled then suddenly came to. Tony was crouched next to him. Ducky and Ziva were hovering overhead, and Tim was standing off to his right.
"What happened?" Gibbs asked groggily.
"You hit your head pretty hard," Tony explained.
"You gave us quite a scare, Jethro," Ducky said, shining a light in his eyes. "Your pupils are responsive, so I don't think there is any permanent damage."
"But what happened?" Gibbs asked again, trying to sit up.
"I told you, Boss, you hit your head," Tony said, helping him.
"What was I doing?" Gibbs asked.
"You do not remember?" Ziva asked. "Ducky, is that bad?"
"It's normal, my dear girl. We'll keep an eye on him, but I'm sure he'll be just fine," Ducky assured her.
"What happened?!?!" Gibbs shouted, immediately regretting it as pain shot through his head.
"Um, you, uh, tripped," Tim offered quietly.
"On what?"
Tim shrugged and looked sheepish. "My foot."
Gibbs looked around the squadroom, then at Tim. "Your foot?"
"It was a case of wrong place, wrong time, Boss. You and Probie were just trying to be in the same place at the same time. It was an accident," Tony explained.
Gibbs looked from Tony to Tim and back again. He caught the glance Tony and Tim exchanged and decided that right now, he just didn't want to know what had really happened.
As the team helped Gibbs up off the floor, Tony just couldn't help himself. "Hey Boss, I guess now we know what your bête noir is."
Gibbs gestured for Tony to come closer. Even in his woozy state, the headslap landed with its usual force and accuracy. Once a sniper, always a sniper.