Chapter 2: McGee

His shoulder hurt.

No, that was a lie, it was killing him. The gunshot had been a through and through, but that didn't make it hurt less.

As he lay in his bed, staring at the pattern the window panes made on the ceiling as the street light shone through the night, he listened hard and heard the sound he'd been expecting: Snoring.

Admittedly, it wasn't as loud as he would have expected, but it was still there. The soft snore that held a light tremble that came from heavily scarred lungs. A dark part of Tim's mind worried that the senior agent would die in his sleep one night because he couldn't breathe.

Tim sighed and rolled onto his uninjured side, knowing without a doubt that even the softest gasp of pain would probably send Tony into his room, worried for his junior agent's safety. Grinning to himself, he thought back over the events of the day that ended with Anthony DiNozzo on his couch.

oOo

Why do they always run? Tim skirted around the corner into yet another alley, gun at his side as he chased after their suspect. Tim wasn't made for chases, but Tony was, the Italian had branched off, hoping to cut the suspect, Petty Officer Jack Tyson, off.

McGee could see Tyson ahead of him and hoped Tony would make it to him before the guy got to the street, they still didn't know whether he was packing heat or not, but they couldn't risk it.

His legs were aching and he grabbed his gun, levelling it at Tyson.

"NCIS, freeze!"

What McGee wasn't expecting was for Tyson to swivel around and shoot at him before he could even register the gun in the man's hand.

There was a blazing pain in his shoulder and he fell back, the subsequent impact with the ground stealing his remaining breath. He was seeing spots but years of having Tony throw things at him kept him alert enough to see Tyson stalking closer, gun aimed directly to his head. He tried to figure out where his gun had fallen, but his movements were erratic and spastic, causing him to only knock the gun further from his reach.

Then, out of nowhere, someone tackled Tyson to the ground. Tim heard a grunt of pain come from his would be killer and relaxed slightly; only one person he knew would tackle someone with a gun.

And that someone was suddenly hovering over him, eyes filled with uncharacteristic worry.

"Come on Tim, stay with me."

"T'ny?" he slurred, shocked by the senior agent's use of his first name.

Just then he was the victim of a Tony-ised Gibbs glare.

"If I didn't need both hands to keep you from bleeding out, Probie, I'd head slap you."

Tim smiled dazedly and his eyes started to close.

"Probie! You stay awake! Do you hear me? You. Stay. Awake."

Tim nodded, "I gotcha T'ny."

He could see DiNozzo's strained grin even as his vision became fuzzier by the second.

"Good job, Timmy."

"Did we get'm?" McGee asked after a few moments of silence.

While Tim didn't see it, Tony glanced over at the unconscious Petty Officer he'd handcuffed to a fire escape.

"Yeah...we got him."

Tim didn't really remember the following hours, the next clearest memory waking up in the hospital, an IV in his arm, thick bandages over his shoulder and Tony reclined in a decidedly uncomfortable appearing position in the chair by his bed.

What scared him was that it didn't look like Tony had even gone home. His shirt and general attire was mussed and he could see the blood that speckled the rolled up sleeves of his green shirt, his jacket thrown over the arm of the chair.

Groaning as he sat up his slipped closed again as he pushed himself up with one arm. When he opened his eyes, Tony was watching him with a bloodshot gaze.

"Hey Tony." He got out hoarsely.

The senior agent wasted no time in lifting a glass of water to Tim's chapped lips and McGee sipped slowly, savouring the coolness of the ice water as it slipped down his throat.

"How long was I out?" he settled back into the pillows of his hospital bed. Tony still didn't reply.

"Tony?"

The Italian's eyes hardened and McGee only half anticipated the Gibbs slap to the back of his head, although it was marginally softer than normal, barely a graze.

"Never. Do that. Again."

Tim blinked, "Uh, do what? Get shot? Kinda comes with the job, DiNozzo, you know that."

He fully expected the second head slap, this one a bit harder than the first.

"Scare me!"

McGee wondered for a moment what kind of meds he was on, because Tony never admitted any kind of weakness unless it was one of those tiny injuries that he nursed for attention.

Tony frowned at his silence and sat back, his arms crossed. Tim suddenly decided that Tony must have given his high school teachers' massive headaches with that stance.

"Yeah, McDeaf, you heard me, I was worried." He leaned forward, voice dead serious, "Never make me say it again."

oOo

Tim was indignant at being treated like an invalid when Tony drove him home and made himself a fixture on the couch. Although, it was a relief to not have to walk and feed Jethro with only one good arm. DiNozzo was surprisingly good with the canine.

Tony's snores continued in the next room and McGee couldn't stop his smile. Tony pushed his buttons more than anyone, but he always knew there was no malice behind his words. Tony was the older brother he'd never had.

And something told Tim that Tony knew that.

oOo

A/N: Yay, Timmy/Tony brotherly goodness!

Let me know your thoughts (and by thoughts, I don't mean a play-by-play of this week's episode! I watch the show, I know what happened)

Yet another bitchy semi rant and I apologise, but it gets really annoying when people review only to repeat everything you already know.

I love you all (well most of you anyways)