"Damn." Walking up to the truck, Gibbs saw the damage on the side. It wasn't enough to render the vehicle inoperable, but he could just imagine the jolt when it happened especially back in the bed of the truck where McGee was not only closer to the point of impact, but without a seat belt or other safety devices.

Gantry hadn't actually looked too closely at the crushed metal before. "Like I said, it was a wild ride. Here, you can throw your bag back here." He opened the back of the camper shell and continued on to the driver's side door.

Gibbs dropped his bag inside and slowly looked around the bed of the truck, where much of the fight for his father's life had happened. An old canvas tarp was rumpled up and shoved to the side, showing the thick plates of metal that were stacked on the bed. A large storage cabinet was laying on its side, the ripped out bolts showed just how hard of hit they'd taken. Closing his eyes for a moment, he could imagine his father laying there, Tim frantically bent over him, forcing the blood to circulate through his body. Blocking the image from his mind, Gibbs closed the door and turned the handle to latch it before walking around to the passenger door of the cab. Tim was already sitting in the middle and Gibbs climbed in without a word.

Ed wasn't much of a talker either and Tim was too exhausted to say much, so the trip back to Stillwater was relatively quiet. Tim fell asleep part way there and Gibbs tugged him back enough that he could lean against Gibbs' shoulder.

The snow got deeper the closer they got to Stillwater and eventually the truck slowed down to a crawl.

"Was it this bad coming in?"

Gantry gave a snort. "Oh, yeah. At least the wind has died down now. The snow was still coming down then and it was mostly sideways. Remember the Winter of our junior year, the storm that closed school for almost a week?"

Gibbs' eyes widened at the reminder. He still gauged storms in comparison to that one. "That bad?"

"Pretty much. Didn't last as long, but last night and this morning was as bad as that one had been. Honestly, I didn't think we were going to make it to the hospital. Kept calling in our location to dispatch so they'd know where to send a rescue team."

So many things had gone wrong and all of them out of anyone's control. Gibbs couldn't help but wonder if the outcome had been different if his father had collapsed in the middle of a pleasant Spring day.

They passed a field where a vehicle had obviously gone off the road, a deep gouge left in the snow. Gibbs was pretty sure that was one of the problem's Gantry had mentioned, but he decided not to ask. Gantry noticed the expression on his face.

"You okay, Leroy?"

Gibbs gave a slight shake of his head. "It must have been one hell of a trip."

Driving back, he honestly wasn't sure how he'd managed it. "Yeah, it was."

-NCIS-

On the road back to DC, Tony looked over at his sulking passenger. "It really wasn't McGee's fault. He tried his best, Abby."

She sniffed and didn't answer him, but she didn't have to. Her words from earlier still rang through his head. Tony saved Gibbs' life. He pulled him out of the water and didn't stop until Gibbs was breathing again, isn't that right, Tony? Could he have saved Jackson? Now that the question was in his head, he couldn't seem to let go of it.

-NCIS-

Stillwater looked the same as always, but it already felt empty to Gibbs. He knew, without a doubt, that when he finished here he would never return. Between Jackson's old truck and Tim's rental car, the driveway was full so Gantry just pulled over on the street. Other than the mailbox, there was no way to judge where the road ended and the front yard started, but Gibbs figured he was pretty close, not that he cared about the condition of the grass under all that snow.

Not bothering to shut off the engine, Ed leaned against the steering wheel. "Don't know how much food your dad kept in the house, but I imagine the casserole brigade has already started."

Jethro remembered the endless stream of food that arrived in the days and weeks after his mother's death. "Yeah, I imagine so." He woke Tim and once the younger man was standing upright next to the truck Gibbs went around to the back to grab his bag.

Once they were away from the truck, Gantry put it into gear, making a mental note to talk to Gibbs away from McGee at some point. "I'll check in with you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Ed."

The house was unlocked. Much like his son, Jackson didn't even have a key to his front door. Tim was looking flushed and Gibbs tugged the coat off of him. "You hungry?"

"Nah, not really."

Gibbs took a closer look at him and realized how rough he looked. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Breakfast." Gibbs looked like he was going to insist he eat and Tim shook his head. "I don't think I could keep anything down right now."

Gibbs couldn't really argue with that. "You staying in the upstairs guest room?" When Tim nodded, Gibbs turned him toward the stairs. "Go, get in bed and I'll bring you something to drink and some crackers or something so you can take some Tylenol, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." He ached all over and his shoulder and back were pretty painful. He slowly trudged up the stairs, aware of Gibbs watching him closely until he was safely in the upstairs hall.

In fact, Gibbs didn't move until he heard the bedroom door open and then close. Once he was sure Tim was safely in the bedroom, he moved to the kitchen. As he suspected, there were two casseroles already in the refrigerator, both with cooking instructions taped to the foil that covered them. Despite his sadness and exhaustion, Gibbs had to chuckle at the sight. One look at the food and he knew the cabbage roll casserole was from Mrs. Hannigan while the chicken and cheese ravioli casserole was from Mrs. Gunther. Nice woman, but she couldn't cook worth a damn. While he dug out a bottle of orange juice and poured a glass for McGee, he wondered how he could get rid of that one dish without offending the Mayor's wife.

-NCIS-

"You hungry?"

Abby just shrugged, so Tony took that as a yes and signaled to take the next off-ramp. They'd been on the road for a couple of hours and were finally past the worst of the snow. They found a decent restaurant and Tony ordered the prime rib while Abby just wanted a beer. "Food, Abby."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well, I'm eating and you're only getting one beer."

"Fine." She turned back to the waitress with a saccharine smile and ordered a bowl of clam chowder. Once the waitress was gone, she glared at Tony. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic." He waited for the explosion he knew was coming.

"I can't believe Ducky just kicked us out of there. If Gibbs really wanted to be alone, he'd have sent McGee back with us."

Tony bit back a groan. He'd seen her get like this, but usually it was Gibbs or Ducky that reigned her in or she just eventually wound down on her own, like with McGee and the dog. This time, Tony was the one that was going to have to deal with her hysterics. "You saw the look on Gibbs' face, Abs. Us being there – it was too much, too soon, and McGee's got a rental car sitting in Jack's driveway."

"Gibbs should have sent you to check on Jackson."

"Why? Tim was driving right past there, of course he'd be the one to stop. Besides, if Gibbs could have sent me, then he could have gone himself." Tony shook his head as he tried to reason with her. "There's not always a bad guy, Abby. Sometimes things just happen."

She started to sniffle again. "I can't believe he's gone, Tony."

"Yeah, me either."

-NCIS-

Gibbs went back upstairs to find McGee still fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You going to sleep in that sweatshirt tonight?"

Tim's face flushed dark red. "I can't raise my arms."

"Ah, hell, McGee." Gibbs stepped closer, depositing the pills and juice on the nightstand. "Let me give you a hand, okay?"

Not looking up, Tim gave a nod. "I'm sorry." He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, knowing how Gibbs felt about apologies.

If there ever was a time to retire that rule, this would be it. Gibbs squatted down in front of Tim so that he could look him in the eye. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Tim. You're hurt because you tried so hard to save my dad, so let me help, okay?"

This time there was the slightest shadow of a smile and Gibbs carefully threaded Tim's arms out of the sweatshirt he was wearing. Tim shivered, but he felt rather warm to Gibbs who remembered the doctor's warning about McGee's body temperature while he was recovering.

Once the shirt was tossed aside, Gibbs untied Tim's shoes and pulled them off before helping Tim to stand back up. He rested his hands on Tim's waist to help balance him as Tim undid his jeans and stepped out of them. After Tim was laying down, Gibbs didn't hand over the juice and pills. "I want to check your temperature first, okay?"

The upstairs bathroom was seldom used, so Gibbs went back downstairs. His breath caught as he stepped into his father's bedroom, spotting his well worn robe laying across the foot of the bed. The Father's Day before they'd died, Shannon and Kelly had bought two. One for him and one for Jackson. He hadn't realized that after all these years Jackson still had the last gift from his beloved granddaughter. He sat heavily on the bed. "Oh, Dad."

Gibbs only allowed himself a few moments to grieve before he forced the emotions away. Continuing on into the bathroom he opened the medicine cabinet to find the glass thermometer in its expected place on the shelf. On the shelf below it was a glass bottle that brought a smile to his face. The label on the liniment bottle hadn't changed in forever it seemed. Taking the cap off and breathing deeply, Gibbs remembered watching his father use it on his own hands at the end of a long day of working and he remembered his mother laughing about the smell tickling her nose. But mostly he remembered his dad using it on his shoulder after a long session of football practice as they'd talk. The quiet man and the sullen teenager, they'd talk more in those few minutes than any other time of the day.

Carrying both items, he returned upstairs. Tim was laying on his side, his eyes widening as he saw what was in Gibbs' hand. "A glass thermometer? I haven't seen one of those in years."

Gibbs just gave him the look and slid it into Tim's mouth. Tim held still, tasting the remains of the alcohol used to sterilize the glass tube as his old childhood fear of biting the glass rose up in his mind.

Pleasantly surprised at how docile McGee was, Gibbs checked his watch. When the required time had passed he pulled the thermometer out and raised an eyebrow before pulling the blankets off of McGee. "Running a little warm there, McGee. Let's see if we can get you cooled back down."

Tim didn't look happy to be uncovered again, but he didn't fight as the blankets disappeared. However, he was a little surprised to find himself being lifted up to lay against Gibbs' chest. "What?"

Gibbs splashed a few drops of the liniment into his hands and started working on Tim's neck and shoulders to begin with. The deep groan made him smile. Tim grew heavier and heavier against him and by the time he was done rubbing both of his arms, Gibbs knew the other man was sound asleep.

It had been many years since he'd held someone while they slept. Gibbs continued to work the muscles in Tim's back and arms as he relished the solid weight against his chest and the delicate brush of breath against his throat. Worried about balancing Tim as he worked down onto his lower back, Gibbs shifted them so that he could lay back against the pillows with Tim draped across him.

Tim snuffled against him once before settling back down and Gibbs carried on with his massage, working the tight muscles until he felt them start to relax. Even then, Gibbs continued with long stokes the full length of Tim's back. It was comforting in a way and eventually the strokes slowed and he drifted off to sleep.