Having watched out of the corner of his eye while Tony and Ziva vacated the room and seen Tim visibly tense up and wince in pain from that movement, Gibbs was quick to approach the young man now that it was just the two of them present. Perching himself on the edge of his agent's desk, the Team Leader crossed his arms in front of his chest and called Tim's name.

Looking up from his work, tension sitting almost visibly on his shoulders, Tim surprisingly, didn't even make the effort to speak; choosing instead to wait for whatever the boss had to say, since there was no doubt something was going through his mind that he needed to get out.

"Go home. Take the rest of the week off. Use some of the sick days you've saved up. Want you capable of breathin' normally and puttin' in a full day's work when you come back on Monday." Gibbs instructed him gruffly.

Warring emotions rose up within the younger man at such dismissal of the dedication he was trying to put forth. Apparently, only Tony was good enough of an agent to work for this man in less than peak condition. Talk about taking favoritism to a new level!

Tim's brain was screaming at the injustice and the lack of appreciation for his commitment to the job, but his body was tired of trying so hard to keep going and it was suddenly all he could do to remain upright in his chair. Tim refused to let Gibbs see how this seemingly callous dismissal affected him. Instead, he blinked several times, the last time keeping his eyes closed for a minute as he finally looked away and silently nodded to let the boss know he'd obey the directive. Without another word, he closed up his workspace and carefully got to his feet, holding firmly on to the desk as he did.

Gibbs watched as Tim struggled to do something as ordinary as get up from his desk chair without falling out in the floor due to the pain he was feeling in his ribs. With a frown, the Team Leader remained where he was, silently taking stock of Tim's condition, the best he could tell, as the young man slowly and stiffly shuffled out of the squad room back toward the back elevator without so much as a single word to the boss.

What Gibbs had seen, he didn't like. It was time to call in the M.E. and get his opinion on the out his phone, he did just that. "Hey, Duck. Need you to get McGee to come see you. He needs to be looked over before he goes home."

"Jethro, Timothy is not allowed to drive himself anywhere for the next two weeks. I am his chauffeur by choice as well as his medical custodian so I imagine he will come see me once you have released him for the day."

"Did more than that, Duck. I told him not to come back til Monday. Want him breathin' normal so he can actually function; not strugglin' to breathe all day."

"Oh, dear. I wonder why he didn't call me for some pain relief. Very well. I am rather relieved you've seen fit to insist he take the remainder of the week off, my friend."

"Too bad McGee doesn't agree. Looked pretty pissed about it when he left outta here. Didn't say another word to me."

"Oh my."

"Make sure he does what he needs to so he can start breathin' right and start mendin, will ya, Duck?"

"Absolutely, Jethro. He will be my guest for that time period as it is and I shall be better able to keep an eye on him with him there. Ah, here's young Timothy now."

Gibbs heard the click of the phone from Ducky's end as the M.E. ended the call. With a deep sigh, the Team Leader sat back down at his desk and got busy catching up on his work, confident that his youngest agent was in the most capable hands he could be.

***NCIS***

"Lemme guess, Gibbs called you." Tim muttered disapprovingly at the M.E.'s rather jovial greeting while holding his phone that spoke of the expectancy of Tim's arrival down in Autopsy.

"Yes, Timothy, he did. He is quite concerned about you and wants to make sure you allow me to check you over and make sure your ribs have not become even more damaged or caused any further problems or complications."

Tim nodded silently although the disbelief was clearly etched in his features as he practically fell into Ducky's desk chair, too tired and wrung out to force the words out that any response would require. As he sat through the M.E.'s painful poking and prodding as well as the not so painful temperature and blood pressure check, Tim's mood continued its' decline until it neared that line that separated anger from depression.

Realizing the agent would probably feel better if his ribs were tended to for the night, Ducky turned to his assistant. "Jimmy, would you be so kind as to remove the tape from Timothy's ribs? We will re-tape them in the morning."

"Yes, Doctor Mallard."

"Unfortunately, my dear fellow, this is a process that will have to be repeated daily for these first two weeks, as I'm sure you're aware."

Tim nodded as he kept his silence, too winded and exhausted to say anything.

"I'm sorry, Tim. I'll try to be gentle." Jimmy offered with a small smile.

"It's okay." Tim let him off the hook with a glance. "Not your fault."

As Jimmy tended to the tape, Ducky kept an eye on Tim's mood and posture, which hadn't shown any wasn't happy with the way things were backpedaling instead of progressing for the youngest member of the MCRT. There was little he could do to ease Tim's worry regarding his job, but there was plenty he could do to ease the young man's physical discomfort and possibly offer him enough necessary distraction that Tim could perhaps allow himself to rest peacefully instead of filled with tension and worry.

As soon as Jimmy had completed the task of removing the tape from Tim's ribs, Ducky took things in hand once more. "Come along, Timothy. Let us make an early night of it, shall we? I, for one, could use the extra time away from my fine abode here and thankfully, there is no one here or even scheduled to make an appearance with whom I need to acquaint myself with." Ducky smiled cheerfully as he helped Tim back into his shirt and led the way out of autopsy for the night mere minutes later after he'd closed everything down for the night.

****NCIS***

Tony and Ziva returned to the squad room a mere thirty minutes after they'd left, each of them carrying a drink tray with two drinks in it. Looking around the squad room and seeing no sign of his probie, Tony's eyebrows rose substantially. "Boss? You kick Probie out for the day?" he joked.

"Nope." Gibbs answered calmly without looking up from his work. "Rest of the week."

"What? No way! You told him not to come back until Monday?" Tony exclaimed in shock. "Wow! You must really be gettin' soft in your old age, there, Boss."

Gibbs looked up sharply as Tony's words penetrated the calm aura that had permeated the silent squad room in the younger man's absence. Glaring at his Senior Field Agent now, the Team Leader fought hard with himself to remain in his seat and not stalk across the room and deliver a vicious head slap to the resident smart ass, at what seemed like callous disregard for his seriously injured teammate.

'Tony!" Ziva objected. "Why would Gibbs not send McGee home until he has time to allow his ribs to begin to heal? That kind of healing will take more than several days, yes?"

"I know. Just couldn't resist. Sorry, Boss." Tony offered almost glibly.

"DiNozzo." Gibbs warned at the offending apology.

"Right, Boss. Getting back to work now." Tony surrendered his attention to the job at hand, allowing peace and quiet to once again return to the squad room.

As Gibbs quietly sighed in relief, that silence was broken yet again.

"Gibbs, McGee is alright, yes?" Ziva questioned with genuine concern.

Looking up from his work, Gibbs scrutinized Ziva's demeanor as she waited for his answer. It was clear she was worried about her teammate and deserved the truth.

"He's not shown any improvement that I can see. You want details, you'll have to talk to Ducky."

Ziva nodded as she returned her attention to her work, allowing silence once again to return to the squad room; each of them now thinking, at least in part, of their absent teammate.

*****NCIS****

The car ride from work to Ducky's house was completed in silence since Tim had been quickly lulled to sleep by the car's quiet motion with the older man's careful driving. The older man smiled at the sight of the younger one's head leaned against the window as he slept on peacefully and the sound of his even breathing. It had been a trying last few days for Timothy and the M.E. was glad the young man would now have the proper chance to begin to heal.

He hated to have to do it, but once Ducky had driven them to his townhouse, he had no choice but to reach over and wake the younger man up because he certainly couldn't carry him into the house. Tim roused from his slumber, groggily looking around to regain his bearings even as the elder man's kind words reached his ears.

"Come, lad. Let's get you settled in so you can get comfortable. You need real sleep in a comfortable bed. The guest room is ready for you."

"Thanks, Ducky." Tim answered tiredly as he made no move to hurry, too busy trying to keep moving without any vocal or physical showing of the pain he was feeling.

A long and arduous forty-five minutes later, Tim had actually made it into the older man's house, eaten some of his dinner and managed to take himself to the guest bedroom. After being coaxed by Ducky to accept a mild sedative, he was now finally asleep.

The M.E. sighed. It had been a very long few days and he was exhausted. In fact, he'd been feeling quite worn to a frazzle almost all the time in the last two weeks or so and it was only in these quiet moments filled with peace and serenity that he had time to consider that it might be time to think seriously of slowing down. Oddly enough, it was during that time in those moments that also reminded him how much he missed having someone to talk to and spend time with at home; reminded him how lonely he was.

He loved his work and he dearly loved the people he worked with but lately he'd been feeling his age much more acutely than ever before. With his mother's passing, his own vulnerability brought on by his advancing age, left him struggling with more decisions than he even wanted to contemplate.