I Do Not Own NCIS
Thanks Deb for reading over the story and taking the time to fix the mistakes, don't know what I'd do without you
Reviews are welcome
And thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites, Sazzita Crawcrolady and Gemini Girl.
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"Blasted little brat done shot me in the nose!"
"Fer cryin' out loud, it was just a pebble!" yelled Bayer.
"It was a damn rock, and that's my story that I'm stickin' to if fer some reason Sheriff Fornell has an itchin' to know!"
"Tony?"
"Yeah Pa?"
"Go fetch the boy, maybe Ducky can help him out."
Tony was thankful for the distraction to aid in their departure but at the same time feeling awful the kid had to get hurt just for helpin' them out of their dilemma.
Tony leaped the wooden steps two at a time, pulling himself up by the railing towards the boy. He kneeled down on one side of him across from a young girl, desperately, holding him in her arms. The boy was out cold. Tony moved the kid's vest aside to take a better look at the gunshot wound; his stomach bleeding somethin' fierce. Tony removed his neckerchief from around his neck to wrap around the wound to help slow the flow of blood. The girl immediately placed her hands over the injury to assist without the least bit of hesitation.
"Miss, you can let go of him now, I got him. We'll take him back with us to our homestead. I promise we'll take real good care of 'm." Tony grasped the boy's arms ready to pull him up, uncertain what to do when the woman wouldn't release him. She turned her gaze to Tony, her brown, beautiful eyes full of tears. His heart ached to witness such worry in those pretty, gentle eyes.
"Where are you taking him? I need to know he will be okay.."
Tony cleared his throat, pushing up the brim of his hat. "We'll take him to our farm; Gibbs' farm, where Doc Mallard can tend to him. Can you tell me his name?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to contain the burning tears as she inhaled a trembling breath. "It's Timothy. Please take good care of him, he's a good man, and check his arm, too. He did something to his arm that has been causing him a lot of trouble, lately."
Tony nodded, his guilt mounting, knowing the poor kid was just trying to help and now, what seemed was his girl, was beyond distraught, unable to regain her composure over the incident.
"Aw shucks, he'll be okay. Doc Mallard's the best."
The girl was obviously too choked up to answer. She just kept nodding avoiding eye contact with Tony as she kept her eyes on Timothy holding her hands over his wound, her lips silently moving in prayer.
"Come by the farm when you can, okay?"
She nodded, biting her bottom lip.
Tony hoisted him up, draping one of his arms over his shoulders while he wrapped his other arm around his waist to support him while the girl assisted. The kid was tall, but thin, not too heavy to carry. Living on the streets was obviously taking it's toll on him.
"Bye, uh..."
"Ziva. It's Ziva. Bye, Gibbs."
"Well, I'm actually, Tony. The man downstairs, there, is Gibbs. He's my pa."
"Thank you, Tony and please take good care of..my sweet Timothy." Ziva's bottom lip trembled as she quickly placed her hand over her mouth, returning quickly to her room. Tony frowned, then started down the stairs, Tim stumbling beside him. Tim let out a weak moan as they worked their way down the stairs, slowly and carefullyl.
"Come on, kid, help me out."
The kids eyes shot open his head lolling from side to side. "O..kay." His head fell forward, bouncing against his chest.
"Oh, well, so much for that."
Tony neared Gibbs and was surprised to see him scoop the pot off the table into his satchel.
"And make sure you take good care of that boy, he didn't deserve bein' shot by that crazed, no-good, hair trigger happy, gunslinger." Bayer was glaring at Skeets as he patted Gibbs on the back.
Skeets angrily pounded his fists on the table. "How dare you even imply..."
Greeley was still sitting at the table leaning back, disgusted, waving Skeets off. "That's it Skeets, this town is through with ya'. You'd better high-tail your caboose outta here or I'm gonna go tell the sheriff myself, what actually did go down today. This town is just plain sick of you and your shenanigans."
Tony walked up next to his father struggling to support Tim hanging on his shoulder.
"Go git Rex from the livery, son. Bring him out front and I'll lash the boy to my horse. I'll ride Rex home while leading the kid. You stop and git Ducky, got it?" asked Gibbs.
"Yeah, I got it, Pa."
Tony was cautious, keeping his eye on Skeets as he exited the saloon, following his father, happy to be away from the ornery double-crosser and the dissension he created.
As soon as they were outside and the saloon doors swung closed Tony felt the need to bring his father up to speed. "Pa, I want you to know I didn't cheat.."
"I know you didn't son. We're new to this town and we didn't know what we were gettin' ourselves into playin' with Skeets; apparently he's the town menace. So, did ja' git it out of your system? It's bad when your first game entails someone getting shot."
"Yeah, I'm done playin' cards, Pa. Well, fer now, anyhow."
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Not much good comes from saloons and card playin', son. Now help me with the boy then git."
"It's Timothy. His sweetheart says his name is Tim."
Gibbs sighed. "He's got himself a sweetheart?"
"Looks that way. She was awful sad."
They hoisted him into the small horse's saddle, then Tony ran across the ways to fetch the horse from the town livery. Gibbs tied the kid's wrists around the horse's neck to keep him stable and secured enough to stay on the horse till they reached their destination.
The boy's face was pale and Gibbs could feel how cold his hands were as he secured his wrists.
Tony led the horse to his father. "Pa, he don't look so good."
"Just keep your mind on fetchin' Ducky, licket-split, then he's got himself a good chance of gettin' better."
"Got it." Tony saddled up then took off, full speed. Gibbs also mounted, holding the other horse's reins to guide him home.
"You just hold on, son, we''ll get you fixed up." The boy offered no response, his face resting against the horse's neck, but Gibbs hadn't expected one as he studied the kid, worried. Gaunt, pale and thin. His days on the streets had apparently caught up with him. He would see to it he was fed, cleaned and fully mended.
Gibbs felt a small relief Timothy wouldn't have to feel the jostle of the ride, while he was out cold.
Gibbs wheeled his horse, "Hee-yah!"
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Gibbs noticed the sun setting through the smoke billowing from the chimney of his farmhouse. Shannon would have dinner ready within the next hour. Gibbs slid out of his saddle then untied the boy's wrists, manipulating him off the horse, careful, so he didn't drop him. His condition seemed worse and Gibbs was starting to worry there was a chance he wouldn't make it. His shirt was soaked with blood and his breathing was shaky and labored. Instead of being cold, he was now warm to the touch, a sure sign of infection creeping in. His defenses were low from lack of care.
He tried to hold him up under his arms then stabilize an arm over his shoulder as Tony had at the saloon, but he was dead weight and uncooperative so he hoisted him on his back, piggyback style, holding onto his bent legs with the kid's arms draped over his shoulders. Gibbs could feel the warmth of his body and his sweat seep through the back of his flannel shirt. Walking up the couple steps to the front door he knocked on it with his boot. Shannon, his wife, opened it shocked to see the unconscious boy, leaning on Gibbs' back, his cheek resting on Gibbs shoulder.
Shannon placed her hand on Gibbs' chest to stop him from entering.
"Now you hold on one minute. You know I'm more than willing to help a young one in need but before you even think about bringing that stranger into our home with a young daughter living here, I need to hear your reasoning."
"Shannon, honey, he's been shot, all on account of Tony and something that happened at the saloon. If it hadn't been for him, Tony would probably be the one wounded right now. He's homeless, has no one, and needs our help." Gibbs' piercing blues were pleading, always the deal breaker for Shannon. He flashed his famous boyish expression that always melted her heart, always succumbing but, never admitting it was the look that always changed her mind.
Shannon observed the vulnerable, sweet expression sleep played on the boy's face, stirring a desire in her to tend to his needs. Even the unshaven, dirty face had no ill-effect on his cherub, baby face. This young man was already tugging on her heart strings and if Jethro felt this strongly about helping him, it said something for his character.
"Well, if that's the case get him in bed and I'll fetch some bandages." She opened the door wider so he was able to enter with ease. Gibbs smiled to himself at the stern wall Shannon would initially display in protecting her home followed by the quick crumble of her adamant decision that continued afterwards. Shannon's heart was too big to carry her threats through, always willing to help those in need.
"That's my girl."
"Jethro, who is he?"
"A kid down on his luck. His name is Timothy. I've seen him around town for the last week, he must be new to the area. Tony is gettin' Ducky."
Shannon poured water from the wooden bucket into the pot over the dutch oven, stoking the mild fire.
Gibbs lay the boy on the bed, removing his shirt to prepare him for Ducky. He rested his hat on a nearby chair then removed his boots noticing holes in the soles. Gibbs jumped when he heard the voice of his daughter, Kelly behind him.
"Daddy, who's that boy and what happened to him?"
"Honey, I want you to go help mommy and I'll explain everything as soon as we get him all settled in, okay?"
"Is it true? Did he save Tony, Pa?"
"Yes, darling. I reckon so." Gibbs smiled at his daughter, always had to know what was goin' on, so many questions. Kelly hugged her teddy bear tight, frowning. Her, straight, long, brown hair was held back with a pale, blue ribbon that fell over her cotton, blue dress. "Make him better, k, pa?"
"We'll do our best. You know, first hand, how good Ducky is. Remember how he helped you through your scarlet fever?"
"Yes! I close near died, Pa!"
"That you did. Now you git, go help your ma, you hear me, young lady?"
"Yes, pa!" Kelly smiled big, then ran off to the other room.
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The scrape of Gibbs' chair beside his bed, roused the boy, his head began moving from side to side as he started to cry out in fear. "Sarah! Don't worry! I'll get you outta there!" Tears streamed down his deep, red cheeks, his arms began to wave in the air as if fighting off a phantom evil. "Ma! Pa! Are you in there?" Gibbs wasn't sure what to do so he sat by Tim's side on the bed and softly held down his flailing arms. Timothy calmed as Gibbs cupped a hand against his cheek rubbing the tears from one side of his face with his thumb.
"Pa? Is that you?" Tim mumbled, his eyes still closed.
"It's okay son. You're going to be okay." Gibbs felt Shannon's presence behind him, standing in the doorway. He could practically feel the worry radiating from her.
"He's getting really warm, I'm afraid infection is starting to develop."
Shannon moved to the other side of the bed, brushing back Tim's hair from his wet forehead. "He must have just lost his family."
"Look here." Gibbs raised Tim's wounded arm.
"That's a bad burn. Do you s'pose he may have lost them in a fire, Jethro?"
Gibbs shrugged.
"Poor baby." Shannon cradled Tim's head in her lap as she stroked his hair, quietly singing a song she always sang to Kelly when she was sick. Gibbs smiled in adoration, the beauty Shannon radiated from her love was astonishing. She was more beautiful each time she sang it. The love she projected was overwhelming.
"Ma, I'm so sorry." Tim cried himself into a deep sleep.