Drowning

Chapter 4

'McGee's back,' Gibbs told Tony. 'You'll be free any second.' Whether Tony actually heard him or not was unclear, but Gibbs kept repeating the words as though they were a kind of mantra. He had to believe them. The only alternative was to accept that they would lose Tony imminently. He could no longer hear Tony coughing. The younger man had been forced to take in air solely through his nose. Tony's eyes remained closed and his brow furrowed as if he couldn't bear to see Gibbs' reaction to his inevitable fate.

When he saw the tow rope grow taut, McGee submerged himself and felt his way to the tree trunk. To his immense relief, he felt the tree move towards the bank. With all of his might, McGee gave it a shove until it was clear of Tony's legs before coming up for much needed air.

'Boss!' he called to Gibbs. 'He's free!'

Gibbs, whose grip on Tony had not slackened for a moment, heaved a sigh of relief and slowly stood up, dragging Tony up with him. The water was now up to their chests. Expecting Tony to begin eagerly drawing in gulps of air through his mouth, Gibbs was concerned when this did not happen. Instead, Tony's eyes remained closed and he was uncharacteristically without comment.

'Dinozzo!' snapped Gibbs. 'You with me?'

'Got your six, Boss,' mumbled Tony, his eyes still closed. 'I've got them.'

McGee approached them and shone his torchlight on Tony's face. The senior agent's skin was grey. His lips were tinged blue.

'He's going into shock,' said McGee.

'Ya think!' spat Gibbs. 'Turn that thing off and help me get him out of this water!'

McGee pocketed the torch and assisted Gibbs to get Dinozzo's lanky form to the bank. He wondered whether Tony's legs had been badly injured – they had no way of knowing. Tony mumbled incoherently about having Gibb's six and apologizing for making the kitchen floor wet, but he didn't appear to be in any physical pain. The temperature of the water had most likely made him mercifully numb.

Once they reached the bank, Ziva ran forward to help them drag Tony onto the wet grass.

'Is he badly injured?' she asked anxiously.

'Hard to tell,' said Gibbs tersely. 'Where the hell are the EMT's?'

'Ah, some kind of major road accident,' McGee told him. 'They said they were pretty stretched.' The look that his boss gave him in response to that comment left McGee in no doubt that there would be some major ass kicking at EMT headquarters as soon as Tony was in the clear.

'Ziva, put the heater on in the truck. Get some blankets. McGee, help me get him out of this jacket. Leave the jeans. I don't wanna make any leg injuries worse.'

'Shouldn't we wait for the paramedics?' McGee dared to ask. Gibbs answered him with a glare. Together, the two men managed to get Tony's jacket off. The senior field agent continued to ramble about keeping Gibbs' six (to which Gibbs said 'I know') and dripping water on the floor (to which Gibbs said 'it's okay')

Once Ziva had placed two blankets on the floor of the back of the truck and was sitting inside, legs crossed, with two more blankets over her arm, Gibbs gave the order for McGee to help him hoist Tony into the truck. Once he was safely inside and out of the rain, Gibbs helped Ziva wrap him as best they could in the blankets. Ziva positioned herself so that she was cradling Tony's head and shoulders on her lap. Satisfied, Gibbs slammed the door and leapt into the driver's seat. McGee barely had time to scramble into the passenger seat before Gibbs took off at break-neck speed.

'Where are we heading?' asked McGee as he hung on for dear life.

'Bethesda,' snapped Gibbs. 'I'll be damned if I'm gonna make Tony wait until the EMTs come to us. He's waited long enough.'

McGee swallowed uncomfortably and tried to relax as the truck hurtled its way along the treacherous terrain towards the highway. He hoped the back door of the truck was shut securely.

On the floor in the back of the truck, Ziva hugged Tony to her as they were bounced around, trying to transfer some of her body warmth to him. He still felt like ice and he was still rambling, his eyes half-closed.

'Shhh, now Tony,' she soothed. 'Gibbs knows that you have his six. It has been that way for a very long time.'

'Sorry, sorry about the floor getting wet,' he continued.

'You do not have to worry about the floor getting wet,' she told him. 'It does not matter, as long as you are safe.'

At that, Tony opened his eyes fully to look at her. For a moment, his expression was so sad and surprised that she thought he was going to cry, but then he shut his eyes and seemed to relax completely. Leaning down, she placed a light kiss on his icy forehead. She hoped that Tony would get medical attention soon. It was unnatural for him to be so still and so hushed. She admitted to herself that he was scaring her.

Two hours after Tony was rescued, he was sleeping comfortably beneath thermal blankets. Gibbs, still in the clothes he wore into the stream, stood outside Tony's room, waiting for Ducky to come and give him the doctor's report in language that Gibbs could understand. He was in no mood for gobbledygook or sugar-coating. He just wanted to know how bad Tony was and how long he'd take to recover.

By the time they had screeched into the ambulance bay at Bethesda, Tony had been barely conscious. The sight of three drenched and muddy agents had startled the emergency team into action and Tony had been immediately rushed inside. If there had been any delay of any description, or any crap about other patients having more priority, Gibbs would have whipped out his soggy gun and made them act. Not for the first time, Gibbs wondered why Dinozzo managed to stir up such intense feelings within him. He could not explain nor deny them. His thoughts were interrupted by Ducky's arrival.

'Now, Jethro,' began the elderly ME, 'I thought we talked about you going home to shower and change.'

'What did the doc say?' Gibbs asked, ignoring Ducky's comment.

'Once again, Anthony is very, very lucky,' Ducky told him. 'He has some deep bruising and minor lacerations across the back of his legs and is suffering from exposure to cold. The doctor is a little concerned about the possibility of frostbite on his toes, but I believe it's unwarranted. His lungs are remarkably clear given the circumstances. He apparently spoke lucidly to the medical staff, so they were quite happy for him to sleep for as long as he needs to. Of course, the poor boy is absolutely exhausted, as I'm sure you must be.'

'How long will they keep him?' continued Gibbs.

'Most likely just overnight, mainly for observation,' said Ducky. 'He really is remarkably lucky.'

'Stay with him, will you Duck?' asked Gibbs. 'If he wakes up, tell him someone will pick him up around midday tomorrow.'

'I will if you promise you're not going back to the office in the middle of the night in that condition,' Ducky told him sternly.

'Keep me informed if anything changes,' called Gibbs over his shoulder as he strode down the hall towards the lift. Ducky watched him go before quietly entering Tony's room and settling himself in the chair beside the bed. Beneath the warm blankets, Tony was sleeping serenely. His face and lips had already returned to their usual colour. Ducky shook his head when he thought of the dangerous situation the younger man had been in only a short time before. It would have been an extremely stressful time for the whole team, particularly Gibbs.

'You really will be the death of him one day,' Ducky said quietly.

Next chapter, we'll find out more about the case of the missing naval officer. Thank you all for your lovely reviews. Love, Zan.