A/N: My deepest and humblest apologies! - Life has dumped buckets on my muse and my time.
Still writing / piecing the pieces of this my muse has given me together though - I will prevail!
and onward we go...
0630 Friday - Dec 17th
Surrounded by near-smothering layers of cotton trying to mask the a white-hot fire poker branding him through his chest, wordlessly, GIbbs moans in pain as he tries to pull in more air. The movement sets off even more fireworks through his chest, yanking him from the bliss he'd fallen into. The unexpected blinding light hits him as he nears the surface of consciousness, seeming to burn his eyeballs even underneath his lids that remain glued shut.
Where am I? Why does it hurt so damn much to move? The questions are running amuck in his mind amidst the sensory overload stuck in pain. Nothing fits together in any semblance of sense or order because confusion has taken over and is reigning firmly. Before any cognizant answer or thought gets through the multiple layers Gibbs' mind seems to be wrapped up in, his physical body, still drenched in exhaustion and wracked with agony, reclaims the blissful nothingness pulling at him, claiming him once more.
******NCIS********
It is very difficult for Ducky to see Gibbs so frail and damaged like this. When he'd looked at him a few moments ago, the poor normally stoic and tough as nails agent was still too pale and too still. He feels his heart nearly break at this turn of events for the patient as well as for the younger man not allowed to be in here with the man he loves, who's scared to death that their lives will never be the same, or worse, have Gibbs in it again. It's been nearly 24 hours and Gibbs is still not waking up.
These thoughts keep running through the M.E.'s mind as he continues looking at the man's chart now, as he has been for the past few minutes. For the umpteenth time since hearing that Gibbs made it through surgery last night, he finds himself relived that the damage done by the bullet wasn't more serious or permanent. Now, he just wishes his friend would stop being so damned stubborn and begin to show signs of waking up.
*********NCIS********
With his fingers still typing, as they have seemingly non-stop for the past 18 or so hours, Tim's mind is almost numb. The process of searching for the bastard who shot his fiancé happening almost by themselves since he's done them so many time before he can do them in his sleep. He can't stop thinking that he wishes the coward would just turn himself in and save them all the damned trouble they were having finding him. Sighing heavily in frustration as much as exhaustion, Tim stops typing and sits back in his chair. This isn't getting him anywhere.
It's been hours since Ducky's last text message giving him an update on how Leroy is doing. At last notice, there had been no change. The hurt agent was still unconscious. Tim's heart is still up in his throat about it any time he gives himself even a moment to think about it. Until this moment, he's done good, keeping an iron grip on those thoughts that would have become a roadblock to making any progress with his task. The fact that he's thinking about how he's spent all this time not thinking about it - means it's definitely time for a break and more coffee - and maybe even a good ole'fashioned "Gibbs-slap' too. Anything to reset his focus back on track.
Standing to his feet, he stretches his back and neck, rolling the latter on his shoulders enough to relieve the kinks He takes another minute to push his arms out into a full stretch over his head before bringing them back in and picking up his coffee cup. He needs a refill and the chance to stretch his legs.
As he rounds the desk, he spies the mess on his teammate's desk and finally realizes that Ziva's been here too. Hmm. That's funny. She's barely interrupted him to the point he'd hardly noticed she was here, Whoa, that's not necessarily a good thing. She was there when Gibbs got shot. Which means he needs to see how she's doing. Actually, it means, as a friend, he should have asked her that hours ago. Now he needs to find her - and a fresh cup of good coffee.
**********NCIS********
"Agent Da'vid." Leon Vance greets Ziva as the only woman agent on Gibbs' team walks into his outer office nearly 24 hours after her Team Leader was shot out in the field. "I'd ask you what you're doing here this early, but chances are I already know the answer to that question. How are you coming along with finding your shooter?"
"McGee and I are still searching through his paper trail. At first it seemed that we would find him easily. However, that is proving to be more difficult as the hours go by. McGee will probably have him located soon. That is what he does best, yes?" Ziva answers him tiredly but with grit and determination to keep going. She isn't about to let McGee get this puzzle solved alone. The sooner they find the shooter, the sooner McGee can get some sleep and be ready to visit and stay with Gibbs when the visitor restrictions are lifted.
Vance smiles at Ziva's faith in her former teammate and friend It's obvious the camaraderie is still there. It's equally obvious that she's working herself into exhaustion and if she is than there's no doubt that Agent McGee already has. "Good, now you need to go home and get some sleep."
"Thank you, Director. But, I need to stay here and help McGee. He is the one who needs to be able to rest and go visit Gibbs when they let him. He has asked that Tony not be told of this 'issue', Director."
Vance frowns. Trouble between the two agents again? This time it sounds personal. It's been ages since he's heard of anything between them like this. Tony was with Gibbs when the older man got shot, so it in all likelihood has something to do with that. He'll stay out of it, but that doesn't mean he doesn't need to know about it. It is, after all, agency business since they both work for him. Right?
"Something I should know, Agent Da'vid?"
"I do not know the details. I do know that Gibbs was shot because he was not wearing his vest."
"Which he's been wearing every time he goes out in the field now, since..."
"Since a few days before McGee was kidnapped by Abby's friend." Ziva replies with a touch of bitterness at the reminder of that awful ordeal.
"Hmm. Enough said. All right, Agent Da'vid, I'll let you keep helping Agent McGee. However, I want you both to stand down the minute you find this guy."
"I will send McGee home at that time. However, I will stand down once the shooter is in custody."
"Fair enough. Appreciate the update. Keep them coming." Vance dismisses her.
With a nod, she's gone from his office, headed back downstairs with determination fueling her every step.
******NCIS*****
0730 - Friday - Dec 17th
Ducky's early morning foray into the halls of the hospital for a fresh cup of coffee has brought him back to Gibbs' room at the tail end of Dr. Greene's checking up on Gibbs. The M.E. greets the obviously tired M.D. and waits for him to speak. Dr. Greene nods in silent greeting, his attention more focused on reading the heartbeat readings for his patient.
Coming around the bed and heading towards the door after writing in Gibbs' chart and placing the chart in the slot at the end of the bed, Dr. Greene sums up his findings. "No change. And until something crops up, that's not a bad thing. Although it would be better if he were to wake up."
"I agree."
With a nod, Dr. Greene heads to the door, stopping as he places his hand on the door knob. Looking back, he sighs. Then he looks straight at Ducky and speaks, his voice surprisingly hesitant. "Dr. Mallard?"
"Yes?" Ducky responds in surprise. He's curious as to what this could be about since he's just admitted everything was okay with Gibbs. Ducky walks to the doorway so they can keep this conversation quiet and waits to hear what the man has to say.
"I'm just about to leave now that my shift is over. But, I wanted to ask you a question since you're here and Agent Gibbs is my last patient before I head out."
"Certainly." Ducky offers politely.
"Last night, when we spoke with Tim regarding his non-status for Agent Gibbs, I noticed he was wearing a ring. One that matches the ring we were forced to remove from Agent Gibbs' hand before we operated on him. I take it the reason Tim seemed so heartbroken is because Agent Gibbs is more than just someone he's supposed to be a medical Proxy for? Are they married?"
Ducky looks at the other man carefully, searching for scorn or ridicule or anything negative. Finding nothing of the sort in the man's demeanor or tone he answers him with the truth as Jethro and Timothy deserve to be treated with. "The ceremony was set for this coming Sunday."
The doctor's shock is real, his regret just as sincere as he shakes his head. "I really wish I had been able to bend the rules for him in that case. Please, give him my sincere regrets that I could not."
"Thank you. I know both Timothy and Jethro will appreciate that." Ducky replies quietly.
The doctor nods. "I wish them both well. And as soon as this stubborn patient of ours decides to wake up, they should be able to begin the healing process without complications."
"What time frame are we looking at for his hospital stay?" Ducky pushes to know.
"Well, if it were up to me, he could go home as soon as he's able to walk around upright without falling over. Then again, I wouldn't expect that before at least a week."
"Very well. We shall plan for Wednesday." Ducky deadpans.
"Oh?"
"Jethro's stubbornness runs as deeply as Agent DiNozzo said. The man hates hospitals. And with their wedding postponed indefinitely now as it is, he will no doubt be in a hurry to rectify that by first being released from here as soon as humanly possible. He will not be adverse to signing himself out AMA. Unless that is, Timothy refuses to let him do so."
"I'd like to see that." The doctor chuckles quietly. "He has to wake up first."
Ducky smiles. "That he does."
******NCIS********
0930 Friday - Dec 17th
"Agent DiNozzo. Your team's off the roster until further notice."
"Director?" Tony responds almost on autopilot to this unexpected directive, given that it's been slightly less than 24 hours since Gibbs has been shot and Tony hasn't even set foot back in the office yet. And while this call from the man in charge is not completely unexpected, it comes without any actual plan of action in place so it makes Tony a little edgy.
"Your Team Leader's down and until you've caught the son of a ***** who shot him, I don't want your team focusing on anything else."
"Yes, Sir. Working on that, Director."
"I know. Keep me updated."
"Yes, Sir." Tony snaps his phone shut as he looks around him in frustrated exhaustion. He's been chasing his tail on this end of the investigation for every bit of the last three hours now. He'd gone home last night and gotten a good night's sleep - as much as he could with the replay of Gibbs' getting shot going round in his head all night. But, at the crack of dawn this morning, he was here where the most horrible moments of the past year of his life took place. He's spent the morning searching every square inch of the place for evidence, a trace, a clue something that would lead them to who this guy was that had chosen to raise his gun and shoot not Ziva or Tony, but Gibbs while the team worked together to secure the building.
Speaking of Ziva, where is she? Tony wonders as his phone chirps, as luck would have it, with her number popping up as the caller. He hits the call button sharply, more than ready to hear her answers to his questions. "Where the hell have you been all morning, Ninja?"
"Working, Tony." Ziva's short answer holds no amusement for the nickname. It's clear she's still affected by the events of yesterday. "And the morning is not yet over."
"Well, if you're not working the scene with me, what else could you possibly be working on?"
"I stopped by the hospital to check on Gibbs on my way in to the yard. They still are not allowing us in to see him. Ducky said he has yet to awaken. He does not seem worried about that."
"Bossman's tough. He's just being stubborn. He's spent so many years living off practically no sleep at all, that he's finally letting himself get caught up on it. I got my update from Ducky over the phone. But, that doesn't answer my question, Ziva. What've you been doin'?" Tony asks her again. He wants to know since he's the Senior of the two and responsible for the team's working together to find the shooter.
"We already knew our shooter's name because we knew of his ties to the group of drug dealers we were attempting to arrest yesterday, yes?"
"Well, yeah." Tony's answer is dry.
"However, he also has a younger a brother that is involved according to his paper trail. I am attempting to track him down now. The brother's credit cards have been repeatedly used by our shooter in the last 48 hours. I am following the money. It should not be much longer"
"Ah. Good plan. I like the way you think, Da'vid." Tony congratulates her. "Let's hope this is one time the dumb criminal doesn't wise up and start hiding better. Wait, how do we know it's the brother leaving the trail?"
"Security Footage photos have shown him to be the one using the cards. However, the last time he has done so was several hours ago. Have you found anything that will help us locate him?" Ziva steers the discussion away from her end of things, not wanting Tony to know what Tim is not willing to let him know, especially on the heels of the conversation she's just had with the Director.
"No. Not yet. Keep me posted on what you find out. Vance has cleared us to work on this and only this."
"That is as it should be, yes?"
"Absolutely. Just don't forget to eat and sleep Ziva. Gotta take care of yourself."
"Tony, I am fine. Do not forget to follow your own advice."
"Understood." Tony ends the call, staring at the phone. That was weird. Something's going on with her. Oh well, he'll check in with her in person later on. Right now, he's got a few more leads to check out while he's out here in the area. Motioning to the team of Deputies escorting him thanks to Metro's full cooperation and Vance's insistence, Tony keeps them going since there's plenty of daylight still left. Who knows, maybe he'll get lucky and find one of the people he's actually looking for before the night is over.
******NCIS*******
0930 - Friday - Dec 17th
"...need ... wake up Jethro. I am beginning to become quite concerned about you."
Ducky! Gibbs tries to force his eyelids open, but they're too heavy. His worn out body is still just too exhausted to follow orders. To make matters worse, every movement by any part of his body sends excruciating pain radiating through him, seemingly everywhere. What. The. Hell. Happened? Relief washes through him as he welcomes the nothingness of sleep once more.
Watching closely for any positive signs of cognizant awareness in his long-time friend, Ducky smiles now that at long last, he has seen the patient's eyes begin to move about under his lids even though his face had been pinched in pain. He knows that this way Gibbs' subconscious ' first attempt at waking up, aborted as it was. It's what they've all been waiting for and he's relieved to see it, although he's saddened at the younger man's pain that will come with each such awakening since they have already begun to wean him off it in hopes of waking him up.
******NCIS********
1330 - Friday - Dec 17th
It's been 24 hours since Gibbs was shot and Tim's been at his desk, working nonstop for nearly twenty of those hours. Through the remainder of last night and on up until now, he's worked on the case He's been alert enough to receive Ducky's text messages since the man had promised to send them only when he had an update on Leroy's condition and visitors' status. There have been several such updates and he has a whole litany of them running around in his head now, vivid memories on replay that don't seem to want to stop.
"There has been no change, Timothy. He has still not awoken."
"Watching him for signs of Hydrostatic shock."
"Doing as well as expected, Timothy, thankfully with no complications.
"They've moved him to a regular room now, Timothy. However, they still want to limit his visitors to keep the chance of infections to a minimum.'
"I am sorry, dear boy, they have not lifted the limitation on visitors yet."
Tim's education and two degrees has given him enough knowledge that he knows what Ducky was referring to with the shock, that the kinetic energy of a bullet can sometimes send a shock wave through the body, transferring physical shock to tissues whose physiologic function may be disrupted by it, especially in the circulatory or nervous systems. He's grateful that so far no such complication has come up with Leroy.
His thoughts running the gambit as he closes down his work station now that he's done what he needed to do. Tim barely hears Tony as the older man storms into the squad room, livid with pent up rage, tension and confusion. "Why the hell won't you go see him, Probie? You do love the guy, right? He's been in the hospital for 24 hours now and outside of going to talk to his doctor last night, you've been avoiding him like the plague! Even I've at least followed up with a call to Ducky about how he's doing. Have you even done that much? No! From what I hear, you haven't budged from that desk since you got here last night! Why you even came here instead of staying with Gibbs, I don't understand. What the hell is more important than being with the man you love? "
His buttons finally pushed too far, Tim explodes, coming up from his chair like a heat-guided missile. "I'm doing what Gibbs would want me to do, Tony! tracking down the bastard who shot him!" He's been holding it all in for the entire 24 hours now, the anguish, the fear, the anger and the sense of utter helplessness. Holding out a piece of paper he's just written something on, he finally moves from behind his desk enough to smack Tony's chest with the hand in which he's grasping the paper - "Here! Go get the son of a bi***!"
Amidst the sight of Tony's jaw dropping, Tim storms away, fighting to keep the anguished tears from rolling down his face. There's no time for that now and he has to be stronger than that anyway! His task here is finally done. Now it's time to prepare Leroy's home for his return - his new daily verbal prayer for his beloved reverberating through his mind now: "Please, God, let him be okay."
In what seems like complete mockery, his former daily verbal wish to his lover comes back to him just long enough for it to sting.
"Love you. With all my heart. Pease, stay safe today."
Wiping a hand tiredly across his face, Tim mentally reinforces the barricade he's erected against the onslaught of emotions this has doused him with, forcing them back under cover so he can continue to focus on what needs to be done. Thinking about it for a moment, he realizes he'll need some advice in regard to the next job on the list. Withdrawing his phone from his pocket, he prepares to make a call when he's stopped by Ziva's arrival next to him where he stands up against the wall in the out of the way corridor.
"McGee. You have done your job. We have what we need to get the shooter. Before we go, I want you to promise me that you will go home and sleep. You will not do Gibbs any good in the condition you are in now."
Tim sighs as his head falls back to the wall behind him with a soft thump. "I know."
"I must go with Tony. You must promise me that you will do this!. Come, I will call you a cab."
Tim straightens up, resetting both his mental and physical balance as much as he can while he's this short on sleep. Exhaustion written all over him, he shakes his head a little in denial of her offer. "Thank you, Ziva. But I can handle it. You go on. Tony's probably chewing his fingernails waiting on you."
"I do not understand why he would do such a thing." Ziva says, her confusion palpable to the point that Tim huffs out a tiny laugh.
"Never mind. Just...thank you." He's too tired to laugh, but he's close enough to her that he can still infectiously smile at her confusion over yet another complex idiom.
"You are welcome. I will check on you later." She vows.
"I'll be fine. I promise." He promises. "Go on."
Ziva turns and walks back towards the squad room, her heart heavy with concern for Tim as well as for Gibbs and their difficult road ahead.
Now that the squad room will be vacant, Tim returns to the desk he's been using and calls himself a cab. He heads home - intent on crashing. He knows Ziva's right about his need to do that before he does anything else.
Once home, he is quick to shed his outer layers of clothing, choosing to sleep in comfortable sweats and a t-shirt. Between the time he came in the door and the time he flops down on the bed, he's been home exactly three minutes, just long enough to have one thought replay over and over in his head. I miss you Leroy.
It's the last thought that crosses his mind before exhaustion carries him away.