McGee edged a little closer to the glass surrounding the isolation chamber, peering cautiously into its depths. He knew Kate had left the hospital early that morning so she had enough time to go home, shower and change to be ready for work in a few hours, but he hadn't meant to make the trip alone. He hadn't heard much from the others about Tony's condition, only a disjointed mumble from Gibbs of 'What ya think, McGee?' which wasn't too encouraging combined with the avid Googling he had already done. Kate had sent him a mere text saying 'You should go see him, Tim.' He'd worried about the context those six emotionless words in the message were supposed to be in. Was it meant to be a friendly 'Go visit Tony, he's bored and needs a friend and is driving me nuts with movie references' or a 'go visit Tony, he's about to cark it'. From what he could see from his awkward positioning on the outer of the isolation chamber, it was leaning closer to the second.

Tony was stretched out on a hospital bed, unmoving, which was unusual. Two nurses stood over him, nudging their way through a cluster of medical equipment. Tubes and chords snaked out of the various monitors and entered his co-worker at different points; his face was obscured by a bulky oxygen mask which was strapped down tight. McGee swallowed as his wandering eyes took in a ventilator sitting idly to the side, just in case.

McGee had never had much experience in hospitals, save for a couple of trips in his younger years to visit ill grandmothers and great uncles and once for a fractured wrist. Even in those few rare occasions he hadn't liked it. It was something to do with the sterile smell, the high contrasting of calm and panic that altered on the different floors and the utter whiteness of the place. He had considered a medical degree for about five to six seconds after finishing school but it was immediately scratched off the list. He was fine with dealing with dead bodies, mangled and gruesome, it didn't bother him anymore. What would bother him a lot more were if that mangled and gruesome body were to be alive. There is a certain chaotic pressure if a person is mangled and gruesome and yet still breathing.

He was unsure of what he was really doing there. He hadn't worked with Tony for all that long and in the time he had had the pleasure of the other man's company he had been teased, taunted, pranked, poked and pulverized by him. Yet supporting all the grief they gave each other was a solid, yet highly camouflaged foundation that was their weird, twisted and slightly deformed friendship. And so there he was.

He took a couple of steps closer, not really sure what to do. He checked his watch again; he had half an hour before he had to leave for the NCIS building. Doctors and nurses moved about but they all walked with purpose in their step and he wasn't sure who he was supposed to speak to or what he should ask. He was about to take a random stab and approach a young and pretty looking nurse when something heavy, unexpected and unexplainable attached itself to his back and locked strong, collared and spiky wrists around his waist.

"Abby, hey" McGee smiled, relieved at finding a familiar, friendly and supportive person.

"Hey Timmy," She said, un-attaching herself, "I'm so glad you're here, I wasn't too sure I wanted to go in by myself."

McGee gave her a look and she started, straightening up and raising her hands defensively.

"Not that I wouldn't have come if I hadn't known you were here, because I am, I'm here and I really didn't know you were coming. I had to come, like, no thought involved at all, since this is Tony we're talking about, well, I'm taking about, but I had to visit. To see if he was okay? Is he okay? Kate said he wasn't okay? What if he's not okay?"

"I dunno, I haven't seen him yet, I just came in."

Abby took him by the hand and together they moved forward until they were standing directly in front of the glass, staring in like it was a fish tank. Before Abby really had any time to take any of it in they were interrupted by a doctor who addressed them from behind.

"Excuse me, can I help you two?" He asked sternly, "Not lost are we?"

"Oh! Um, sorry - Yes, I mean no- not lost. I'm Abigail Sciuto and this is Timothy McGee, um, he's an NCIS Special Agent, here Timmy, show him your badge, uh..." Abby said in one breath, hurriedly sticking a hand in McGee's pocket in search of his badge, he brushed her hand away and gave her a stern look.

"Abby - stop it! Sorry, sir... We're-"

"You two work with Tony?" The doctor interrupted, suddenly looking a bit friendlier.

"Yes, yes we do." Abby said, fingering her NCIS Forensics identification.

"No problem. Sorry about that, we've just been having trouble with some... medical tourists. Word seems to have gotten out that we have a plague patient down here, I have to send people out for using flash photography!"

"Photos?" Abby asked, a horrified expression crossing her face at the thought of people taking pictures of her sick friend. "How could they?"

"No, no! Calm down - I'm sorry. I was kidding about the photos part. It seems Tony's become a bit of a superstar and attracted some attention. Sorry, where are my manners? I'm Dr. Brad Pitt, Tony's doctor."

"I bet Tony had a field day with a name like that - Kate probably deserves a gold star; you know, the movie thing." McGee murmured, shaking the doctor's hand. Pitt nodded and chuckled lightly, his expression growing serious as he turned back to the glass.

"Can we go in and visit him?" Abby asked nervously.

"Yeah sure, you've got to be mindful though; He had a rough night last night and his breathing took a turn for the worse early this morning, he's exhausted, I just need you to make sure the oxygen mask stays on and that you let him rest."

Abby nodded and McGee thanked the doctor before they both turned and moved to enter the chamber. Abby clutched McGee's hand like her life depended on it as the hissing died away and they both tentatively moved into the room. One of the nurses looked up and smiled at them encouragingly; she finished scrawling something on her clipboard then moved to speak to the two.

"Hi, I'm Emma." The nurse introduced herself.

"Emma, I'm Tim and this is Abby" McGee said, Abby murmured a hello, her eyes wide and firmly fixed on the figure lying in the bed.

"I don't know if you've spoken to Brad, but he's not doing too well at the moment. It's just too risky for us to give him anything to help him sleep with his breathing the way it is, he's not having much luck with sleeping. We need to make sure he gets all the rest he can. Of course he's doing his best and is extremely stubborn. His breathing is a bit of an issue. So- both of you know, he knows and I know the mask is going to stay on." The nurse said, her voice raising at the last sentence and she turned her head so the patient in the bed could hear her.

Abby, who could not politely restrain herself any longer, clomped the last few steps to Tony's bed.

Tony looked blearily up at her, smiling under the bulky oxygen mask. The other nurse finished what she was doing and gave him a pat on the arm before she moved off to follow Emma out of the room. Abby nervously hovered over him for a few seconds as she took it all in, nervous about touching anything she shouldn't. In a matter of seconds she gave up on being careful and flung one arm around her friend.

She swallowed hard as she leant down to hug him, this was worse than she had expected and worse than what the other two had let on. Tony had dark smudges plastered under his eyes, and his eyelids were hooded with exhaustion. His hair stuck up in sweaty, oily spikes and his face was a ghostly white, save for a bluish tinge that touched his nose, lips and fingernails. Tony had to be about the second strongest person she knew and it was terrifying to see him looking downright weak. She had a feeling this moment was going to be pasted to the back of her mind for a very long time. As she straightened she composed her face again, repeating a mantra in her head of 'Positive, positive, positive' as she tried to brighten the mood in the room.

"Tony! Oh my god, I've been so worried about you! You look absolutely terrible! ... Sorry, that's probably not something you want to hear first thing in the morning..."

"Abbs..." Tony mumbled as he tried to drag his arm up to remove the mask so he could talk. Abby smacked it away.

"No talking mister, you just have to focus everything on getting better."

"S'good t' see you"

"And Tim too, Tim's here as well. Where are you? Come on, McGee!" Abby said, turning and grabbing his wrist and pulling him about an inch closer from where he stood silently. She raised her eyebrows at him dangerously while her back was turned to their sick co-worker. McGee nodded at Tony and swallowed a lump in his throat. Now the spot light seemed to be shining on him as Abby and Tony both looked at him expectantly. He was forced to look at his partner's sickly pallor, amplified a million times by the feeling that he was in some way responsible for his friends suffering.

Luckily, or unluckily Tony saved him from his awkward speech by launching into a rather impressive coughing fit. Tony clutched and fumbled blindly with the mask as he chocked into it. He was immediately assisted by a magically appearing nurse who swiftly removed the mask and helped him clear his lungs, before professionally settling him back onto the partially raised bed. All the while Abby laid a cool hand on his and spoke soothing words. The two visitors were shocked at the amount of energy it had taken out of Tony by the mere action of coughing. The obvious fatigue that was left behind from the small exertion was scary.

"M'sorry ... 'bout tha -"

He was cut short as the Goth slapped him on the arm; he looked at her and then down at his arm in mock horror.

"Tony! No talking!"

Tony opened his mouth to voice a raspy protest but was stopped short when Abby let loose, obviously using her motor mouth as a tactic in keeping him silent.

" Gibbs hardly let on about any of this, I mean, Kate said you were in rough shape but I guess I didn't really think- Of course I researched the plague and everything but I didn't think it could actually, really, truly be as bad as the websites say, you know?" Abby paused momentarily to take a breath of air and give her friend's hand a gentle squeeze. Tony blinked up at her and smiled weakly under the mask, it was good to have a friendly face to take his mind of the all-to-familiar poking, prodding and pricking that loomed in the not too distant future. "Like, I gave up on Googleing my symptoms whenever I got sick years ago; I was convinced for weeks that my ingrown toenail was really a rare type of cancer. Every single website seemed continually tell me that. I mean, I was in therapy for months after discovering it was merely ingrown, imagine if it had been ... "

She continued on a few minutes longer, watching as her friend's eyelids sank lower and lower and Tony fought harder and harder against it. McGee had stood awkwardly on the other side of Tony's bed, agreeing with Abby in her one-way conversation every now and then, sometimes stepping in to elaborate on the vast variety of subjects that Abby managed to weave in, in a matter of minutes.

McGee ended up leaving earlier than he needed to, he hated hospitals, more though he hated seeing his colleague so motionless, pale, wheezy and on the verge of passing out before him. It was too weird, not natural and it had his stomach tied in knots. He flustered about in his monologue, waiving over the topic in a jumble of broken sentences before he managed to spit out what he was trying to say. 'See you Tony, feel better. I'm fleeing now.' And he was gone.

Abby on the other hand made herself comfortable in the world's most uncomfortable chair that was positioned by Tony's bedside. She stroked his oxygen deprived fingers as he fell into a shallow and fitful sleep. As far as she was concerned she was not going to be leaving his side any time soon, work could wait.

Aw, I missed you guys!

I also missed getting reviews (Imagine that?). Can I just say that if you want to make my day, boost my ego, cause the occasional happy dance, insult, threaten me or criticize my work. PLA-EESE review it. It is quite terrifying how obscenely excited I get over death threats. Though positive also works as well. It's like you paying me with my own happiness.

No but seriously, um, comments and constructive criticism, advice, whatever. Wanted - needed. Shoot.

Love.