Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and this story is not intended as an infringement of copyright. It has been written solely for entertainment and no profit has been made from its creation.

A/N:- Thank you all, so much for your warm wishes. Due to some site problem, this story seems to be appearing and disappearing at irregular intervals so I hope you're not having too many problems accessing it. Have just enough time to squeeze in the next chapter before I have a short break. L

MISTAKEN IDENTITY

Chapter 2

Gibbs was leaning against the counter, awash in Tony's personal and health insurance paperwork. He was sickened by the thought that, over the years, he'd completed the details so many times he had committed them to memory.

Dr. Donald Mallard entered the waiting room looking resplendent in a dinner suit and bow tie. Spotting Gibbs at the nurses' station he walked briskly to join him.

"I am sorry, Jethro, my cell was switched off during the performance. I wasn't able to return your call until after the first act," Ducky said. "Is there any news?"

"None. He was still unconscious when we arrived 30 minutes ago," Gibbs replied, carding his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"How on earth did this happen? I was under the impression that Anthony was on vacation and boarding a flight to Connecticut this evening."

"Got a late lead on Petty Officer Forello. Tony wanted in on the collar. There was a foot pursuit and he didn't see the car," Gibbs stated wearily.

"Oh my! I'll see what information is available on his condition. Try not to worry, Jethro, I'm sure Anthony is in very good hands," Ducky assured before he disappeared through the double, swinging doors leading to the trauma rooms.

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The sound of platform heels echoed down the corridor, heralding the arrival of a distraught looking Goth scientist. Abby looked around the waiting room and saw Gibbs at the nurses' station. Her expression changed instantly from distress to anger.

Eyes flashing wildly, she rapidly closed the distance between them, curled her fingers into a fist and punched his shoulder.

"Ow, Abby! What was that for?"

"What was that for? Do you really have to ask, Gibbs?" she fumed. "Tony has been hurt and rushed to hospital and how do I find out? Sister Rosita told me – that's how I found out! Why didn't you call me? Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

"I was going to call you as soon as I had some news," he explained.

"So…there's no news?" she said, her eyes filled with concern.

"Not yet. Ducky's gone to see what he can find out." His head tilted as a thought occurred. "How did Sister Rosita find out that Tony was hurt – and don't say divine intervention."

"No, not divine intervention…although, that would have been way cool…she found out from Sister Mary Francis, who heard it from Sister Angelica, whose cousin on her father's side, twice removed, lives next door to Rebecca Davison."

"And Rebecca Davison is..?"

"You know Rebecca Davison, Gibbs?"

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Nope."

"She's the strawberry blonde "cupie-doll" from Dispatch that's always drooling over Tony and baking him cookies – you make her cry every second day when you yell at Tony and chase her out of the bullpen!"

"She was the dispatcher I spoke to when I called in the accident…"

"And she phoned her neighbour, who called her cousin on her father's side twice removed, Sister Angelica, who told Sister Mary Francis, who called Sister Rosita, who told me!"

Gibbs signalled to Ziva and McGee who had just entered the room.

"Boss, we just heard about Tony!" McGee said breathlessly.

"Sister Rosita called you, too?" Abby asked.

"No, Director Vance," McGee answered looking a little confused.

"Hmm, your source may have been more direct than my heavenly hotline, Timmy, but it didn't get you here any faster," Abby gloated.

"Gibbs, how is Tony?" Ziva asked.

"No news yet. Ducky's just gone in to see what he can find out," Gibbs told them. "Sit, it could take a while."

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They rose to their feet as one when Ducky walked through the swinging doors of the trauma room and made his way toward them.

"Relax everyone," Ducky announced to the concerned group. "Anthony has regained consciousness and is doing remarkably well, considering the circumstances."

"Duck?" Gibbs asked in his customary succinct manner.

"He sustained a serious concussion and some swelling to his temporal lobe - presumably caused when the left side of his skull made contact with the vehicle that struck him," Ducky explained.

"You've seen him, spoken with him?" Gibbs asked seeking further confirmation on his agent's condition.

"Oh yes, I just came from speaking with him. He is fully cognisant but has no memory of the accident itself or several hours prior. It's quite a common occurrence with head trauma of this kind, those memories may return in time or they may never return at all." Ducky continued.

"No broken bones, Ducky?" McGee asked.

"The doctors are waiting for the results of the x-rays but it seems our young man has been very lucky. He suffered multiple contusions and lacerations as a result of the accident and they are treating him for the pain. They'll keep him overnight for observation and are transferring him to a private room as we speak."

"Can we see him, Ducky?" Abby asked hopefully.

"Just for a few moments, my dear," Ducky replied kindly. "I'll arrange it with his doctor."

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By the time they were permitted to see their ailing colleague, Palmer had joined them. They entered Tony's room as quietly as possible, each of them aware of the displeased look they received from the nurse on duty, unhappy about the disruption to her patient's rest.

As they gathered around his bed and Abby took his hand, Tony slowly opened his eyes.

"Hey," he managed, looking up at the concerned faces.

"Oh, my poor baby! How are you feeling?" Abby asked softly.

"Like I've been hit by a bus," Tony smiled weakly.

"Well you are looking a little run down," McGee teased.

"McGee!" Abby scolded. "That's so not funny! Ducky said Tony was totally lucky that he wasn't killed."

"Don't feel lucky," Tony said, grimacing as the movement caused his battered body to protest painfully.

Panic suddenly seized him and he looked to Gibbs who was standing by the door.

"Boss, the driver?"

"Shaken up, but he's fine," Gibbs replied watching Tony sink back into the pillow in relief.

"Although, he's not real happy about the DiNozzo sized dent you left on his hood," McGee said.

"You are fortunate that you landed on your head, Tony," Ziva goaded. "Or you may have been seriously hurt, yes?"

Tony smiled wanly. "Very funny," he said sluggishly.

"So, Tony, you really don't remember the accident?" Palmer asked.

"Nope, last thing I remember is eating a breakfast burrito at my desk this morning."

"You stole my breakfast burrito?" McGee asked. "You told me Ziva took it! I put a fake cockroach on her candy bar!"

"You put the cockroach on my candy bar, McGee?" Ziva hissed. "You told me it was Tony and I…never mind."

"What did you do?" Tony said warily.

"You should not worry, Tony. I am sure I can defuse it before you need your locker again."

Gibbs leaned against the wall content to watch his team indulge in their usual good-natured teasing.

"Not an ideal start to your vacation, Tony," Jimmy said.

"My vacation?"

"Oh, my poor Tony, you don't even remember that you're on vacation," Abby said sadly.

"I am?" Tony asked in surprise.

"You mean, you do not remember promising to help me move to my new apartment on Saturday?" Ziva asked. "I have already cancelled the removalists as you suggested."

"I suggested that?" Tony asked, his handsome face contorted in a deep frown.

"You did," Ziva nodded seriously. "You told me to save my money and that you could use a good cardiovascular work out. It is, after all, only three flights of stairs."

"Are you sure that was me, 'cause that really doesn't sound like me," he frowned in confusion.

"And then you said that, on Sunday, you'd show me how to change the oil in my Porsche," McGee joined in.

"Me?" Tony gulped.

"Yes, you," McGee confirmed. "You said, and I quote – 'if you're gonna own a hot car, McSparkplug, you need to spend more money on keeping it running and less on those expensive girlie manicures."

Tony pursed his lips in thought. "Okay, that sounds more like me but now I know you're lying," Tony said battling his fatigue.

"How do you know?" Jimmy asked.

"Easy!" Tony stated emphatically. "I'm not that nice!"

McGee and Ziva exchanged a glance, nodded and spoke simultaneously.

"He's right, he's not!" they quipped.

The nurse reappeared at the door and cleared her throat in a not so subtle hint that it was time for the visitors to leave. They said their goodbyes and made their way to the exit.

Ignoring the pointed look from the nurse, Gibbs dragged the visitor's chair closer to the bed.

"You need anything?" Gibbs asked, realising his agent was quickly running out of energy.

Tony shook his head and instantly regretted the movement when the intensity of his headache increased and bile rose to the back of his throat.

"Ducky said we were chasing down Forello," he replied, fighting to keep his eyes open. "We get him?"

"Nope, got side-tracked when you decided to play demolition derby with that Gremlin."

Tony's eyes opened wide in horror. "A Gremlin? I got taken out by a Gremlin?"

"Fraid so," Gibbs replied, "When I said you needed some down time, this isn't what I had in mind."

"So, I'm really on vacation?"

"As of four hours ago, you're on four days leave."

"I'm afraid he's going to need a little longer than that, Jethro," Ducky said as he entered the room carrying Tony's x-rays.

"What's the damage, Doc," Tony asked wearily.

"Surprisingly, young man, you broke nary a bone," Ducky said shaking his head in wonder. "But you have some very deep bruising and you are going to be very sore for quite some time, I expect."

"DiNozzo's are like Timex watches, Ducky," Tony said suppressing a yawn. "We take a lickin' and keep on tickin'."

They watched as Tony's eyelids grew heavier with each blink until, shortly after, they closed and stayed closed as he drifted off to sleep.

"Looks like the watch stopped, Duck," Gibbs said. "What about the concussion?"

"His doctors have prescribed some anti-inflammatory tablets and some pain killers. They have him on concussion watch tonight and they'll review his condition in the morning. All being well he will be released then but with all those additional aches and pains, he'll need at least a week until he's 100 percent – possibly two weeks."

After ensuring Tony was out for the count, Gibbs checked his watch, noting it was almost midnight. He looked Ducky up and down as if noticing his formal attire for the first time.

"Come on, Duck," he said leading the ME by the elbow. "Let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin."

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It was 0630 when Gibbs approached Tony's hospital room, the ever-present Styrofoam coffee cup held in his right hand and a brown paper bag with two breakfast burritos in his left. His lips twitched into a small grin as he imagined his senior field agent pacing impatiently as he waited to be "sprung" from his hospital "prison".

He stopped suddenly in the doorway, surprised to see Tony sleeping soundly and attached to an IV line that definitely had not been there when he'd left him last night. Frowning, he turned toward the nurses' station just as the duty nurse looked up.

"You must be Agent Gibbs," she said. "Tony said you'd be here early."

"I expected to find him ready to leave," he replied. "Is there a problem?"

"Just after one this morning Tony's condition worsened. He experienced severe headaches, dizziness and he became violently ill," the nurse explained. "We called the doctor who gave him something to settle his stomach and to help him sleep. The IV is just a precaution to keep him hydrated."

"Why didn't someone call me?"

"I saw your name on his contact sheet and asked Tony if he wanted me to call you. He mumbled something about not wanting to drag you away from your boat," she huffed a laugh and shrugged. "I wasn't sure whether that was the concussion or the pain killers speaking."

"What happens now?"

"He should sleep for a few more hours. The doctor has scheduled more scans for this afternoon. Depending on the results and how Tony's feeling, he may be allowed home this evening."

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Gibbs returned to the office and turned his attention to the ever-present pile of paperwork that mysteriously materialised in his in-tray each night. The soft 'ding' of the elevator sounded and the remainder of his team arrived.

"Gibbs!" Ziva said with mild surprise. "We did not expect you!"

"Boss, is everything alright? What are you doing here?" McGee asked.

"I work here," Gibbs replied.

"We thought you'd be at the hospital," McGee explained, "making sure Tony doesn't go "over the wire" before the doctors release him."

"Like last time and the time before that," Ziva added unnecessarily.

"DiNozzo's not going anywhere for a while," Gibbs informed them. He opened his mouth to explain further when the relative quiet of the bullpen was shattered by the arrival of a tall, slim, Gothic forensic specialist.

"Gibbs! You're here!" Abby exclaimed, turning every head in the operations room. "Well, duh, I know you're here, I can see you, but what I mean is - why are you here? You need to be at the hospital with Tony before he starts to dig an escape tunnel. You know how being in hospital drives him crazy! I hope you told the nurses to, like, place him on escape watch…he's a regular Houdini when he wants to be!"

"As I was saying," Gibbs continued. "DiNozzo had a…."

"Well, this is a surprise!" the cultured voice of the elderly ME declared as he rounded the corner with his youthful offsider in tow. "I expected you to be at Bethesda, preventing Anthony from tying the bed sheets together and climbing out the window."

"Or placing his pillows in his bed so the nursing staff think he's sleeping when he's already half way home," Jimmy smiled, shaking his head at the lengths his friend would go to in his quest for 'freedom'. "Tony said it was an old but effective technique from his boarding school days."

Slightly exasperated, Gibbs met each of the five pairs of eyes staring questioningly at him, then, somewhat exaggeratedly, he looked from side to side as if expecting someone else to force their way into their odd little group. He bit back a smile as five heads swivelled to the right and then to the left as if watching an imaginary tennis game. Satisfied that, for the moment, further interruptions were unlikely, he explained that Tony had suffered a set back and would be staying in the hospital until later that evening.

Before he was swept up in the inevitable avalanche of questions, his desk phoned shrilled impatiently.

"Gibbs," he replied, listening to the brief message before adding. "Tell him I'll be right up."

Pushing back from his desk, he got to his feet and headed for the staircase. "I'll be with the director," he said without looking back. "Keep checking for any leads on Petty Officer Forello – I want him."

He took the first two steps before stopping abruptly and turning towards the ME.

"Duck?"

"I'll call the hospital for an update on Anthony's condition," Ducky pre-empted.

Gibbs nodded his thanks and continued up the stairs.

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Arriving at the director's office, he knocked once and opened the door without waiting for an answer.

Vance looked over the stacks of paperwork piled high on his desk and Gibbs couldn't help the grin that played across his lips.

"Still happy to sit in the big chair, Leon?"

"Don't even go there," Vance said dryly, not bothering to hide his frustration at the mountain of paperwork.

"You wanted to see me, Director?"

"Surprised to see you here, actually, thought you'd be standing guard over DiNozzo at the hospital – the man could escape from the damned electric chair!

"Talk his way out, maybe," Gibbs agreed.

"How's he doing?"

"Serious concussion, bruises, aches and pains – nothing broken. Doc's are keeping him in for further tests."

"Could have been a lot worse."

Gibbs shrugged. "Only if he'd been hit by a Datsun Honeybee."

The director frowned slightly but chose to ignore the comment.

"Actually, I was surprised to find his vacation request on my desk," Vance commented.

"He's entitled to some personal time, Leon," Gibbs said suddenly defensive. "He's got over 12 weeks accumulated and he's dead on his feet."

"I haven't got a problem with him taking leave," Vance explained. "But with Forello still at large, I'm surprised you got him to agree."

"Didn't ask him," Gibbs said with a shrug.

"Any news on Forello's whereabouts?"

"Still looking."

As his desk phone rang, Vance held up his index finger in a "just a minute" signal and picked up the receiver.

Gibbs' attention was drawn to the director's clipped and succinct tone as Vance jotted down some details on a notepad and replaced the handset.

"Looking for Forello will have to wait. We've got two dead Marines."

Gibbs back stiffened immediately. "Where?"

"Camp Lejeune," Vance replied, ripping the page from the notepad and handing it to Gibbs. "May be a training accident gone wrong – maybe not. Whatever it was we've got two dead and two injured."

"Lejeune? Mike Harding still senior agent at the Lejeune field office?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes he is, that a problem?"

"Nope, no problem. Mike's a good man. Just wondering why you're sending my team when we have a team of good agents already on base?"

"The dead Marines were both highly decorated war heroes. SecNav expects a lot of public interest and political heat. He wants you and your team down there a.s.a.p." Vance said. "The team at Lejeune have secured the scene but you'll have the lead. You'll have to brief your team en route – your transport leaves Anacostia in 35 minutes. Keep me posted."

"What about the ME?" Gibbs asked.

"Take Dr Mallard and Palmer with you. Arrange for the bodies to be transported back here for the autopsy. Once you're done with the crime scene and interviews, SecNav wants this case handled here."

With a curt nod, Gibbs turned and left the office to ready his team for their flight to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.

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I hope you enjoyed that, back as soon as I can - a couple of days at most - and we'll start on the investigation side of the story, L