Timothy McGee was really quite comfortable. It was sort of nice, wherever he was.
He really didn't have any idea where he was.
Tim wracked his brain. His analytical mind had never failed him before, and he wouldn't let it fail him now. So he needed to figure out what exactly was happening to him.
His last conscious memory was Tony clouding his field of vision. Tony looked concerned, anxious, terrified… but why? Tim didn't feel like he was in any sort of trouble. Tony didn't need to worry about him.
Tim tried his hardest to remember what had happened before this. It was all very confusing. Pictures came to his mind in flashes, but he couldn't hold on to anything. All he could make out from his muddled memory were squealing tires and… were those gunshots?
Gunshots.
No wonder Tony looked so worried.
Tim wondered who had been shot. Obviously not Ziva. Ziva would have anyone who dared to aim a gun at her in a headlock in five seconds flat.
Tony probably didn't get shot, or else he would have looked like he was in pain.
And Gibbs? The thought of anyone shooting Gibbs was laughable. He was like this big impenetrable fortress.
Ducky and Abby rarely were in the field, so Tim doubted that they were harmed in any way.
And that only left…
Me? I was… shot?
It couldn't be, Tim decided. Logically, it made absolutely no sense. If he had gotten shot, he would be in agony right now. But he wasn't. He felt relaxed. A little discombobulated, maybe, but otherwise he was almost happy. There was absolutely no way in hell that he had been…
The door to the hospital room creaked softly as Gibbs and Ziva entered it. Abby and Tony sat in chairs opposite the bed, their eyes trained on McGee, watching for any signs of wakefulness.
"You two," Gibbs said gently so as not to wake McGee. "Go home. Get some sleep. You'll need it."
"Absolutely not," Abby said, at the exact same time Tony protested, "No way, Boss."
"That's an order," Gibbs said in a tone that almost denoted a warning.
Abby stood, looked at Gibbs firmly for a moment, then crossed the room to stretch out on the other, empty hospital bed.
Gibbs approached the side. "I thought you might do that," he said, a hint of a smile on his face. "That's why I brought you these."
He handed her a bag, which she opened hesitantly. Inside, Gibbs had packed Burt and a pair of Abby's favorite pajamas.
Abby looked at the gifts for a few seconds, her upper lip quivering. Then she stood up and allowed Gibbs to engulf her in a hug. "He's gonna be okay, Abby. He's going to live. So sleep now. We'll wake you up if he wakes up," Gibbs assured her. Abby wiped a few more stray tears from her cheeks before shuffling into the adjacent bathroom to change.
"And Tony," Gibbs said, slightly louder.
"Not leaving, Boss," Tony said firmly. "I'm gonna grab forty on the floor by Abby." Gibbs shook his head and sighed before tossing Tony a few blankets. Tony assembled a makeshift bed on the ground next to Abby's and curled up.
Ziva had ignored all of this, having taken Tony's seat and having adopted the same focused stare, searching for any indication that McGee was awake. She examined the thick bandages surrounding McGee's neck, almost shuddering at the thought of what lay beneath them. Tony had said that McGee would likely not be able to talk again. Ziva rarely cried, but she allowed herself to weep for him. It was awful to think about how Tim would react upon learning what he had lost.
Gibbs took the seat beside her, having finally convinced Abby to get some rest. He rested his head in his hands, visibly exhausted.
"Why?" Ziva heard him mutter, although she was relatively certain that it was a rhetorical question and that any answer she gave wouldn't be appreciated. Not that Ziva had any answers to that question in the first place. In fact, she was silently asking herself the same thing.
Why?
It was a difficult realization for Tim. There was no one else who could have been shot except him. But it didn't make any sense! Perhaps if he figured out where he was, he would be able to find more concrete answers. Maybe if he found Abby, she could tell him what happened. She could use her forensic skills to prove to him exactly why it didn't make sense that he had been shot.
Of course, finding Abby depended on whether or not Tim could figure out where the hell he was. This was so frustrating to him. He rarely got lost. He was a Webelos, for Christ's sake!
Tim became aware that he was in a sort of parking garage. Well, that's what it mostly resembled. There were cars everywhere.
"You heard the man, McGee, run!"
Oh! Tony's voice! Tim knew that Tony was around here somewhere. Maybe if he could find Tony, he'd be able to get to the bottom of this.
He saw his partner running up ahead.
"Tony, wait!" he attempted to call out before he realized his throat wasn't working. No matter how hard to tried, he couldn't bring himself to make a noise.
Tony's gun was drawn.
Maybe I should pull my weapon too.
Tim reached for his gun but… why wasn't he able to move his arm? He flailed for a few seconds but he couldn't seem to find his gun. Had he lost it? Impossible. Tim was far too well trained to make such a probie mistake.
Two gunshots.
Pain in his hand. Pain in his throat…
Oh God! His throat! McGee couldn't breathe. He couldn't scream. It was all he could do to try to get a little more oxygen to his lungs before…
Tony's frightened face leered above him once again…
Timothy McGee's eyes flew open. He was awake.
Oo, weird dream sequences are weird.
Review, though! :D