I feel as if my whole life has been nothing but a dismal play, presented for someone else's amusement, and that the playwright who invented my cruel twist of fate is somewhere far above me, laughing and laughing at his creation. Series of Unfortunate Events

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"What the hell happened here, Tony?"

The last time Gibbs had seen DiNozzo and McGee, they were at NCIS and going nowhere fast, buried in piles of false leads and red herrings. DiNozzo had been seeing double. McGee had been in pain, even if he refused to let it show, and Gibbs had sworn to tell him to go home as soon as he got back from checking on that new (and futile) lead with Ziva.

Now…now the case was broken, they'd found the kids alive, thank God, and DiNozzo had broken just about every rule in the figurative NCIS handbook. When he'd rushed into the house, Ziva at his heals, the whine of an ambulance not long behind them, the first thing he'd heard was the quiet chatter of young boys, frightened sounds, worried sounds.

The second thing he heard made his blood run cold, because he knew Tony, had known him for long years, and he knew that he would never sound panicked or scared, especially in front of the victims of the case, without good reason. "C'mon, Probie…McGee…yeah, keep your eyes open. Tim! Stay awake!"

He'd turned to Ziva for a split second, long enough to see her careful façade slip for a moment to reveal true worry. "The door." She gestured with her drawn gun and Gibbs hurried down it, holstering his own weapon.

There were muffled cries of terror from the boys, and Gibbs wanted to go to them because the thing he hated most in the world was seeing kids hurt or scared, and these guys were both. But Tony was in a state of sheer panic, gripped McGee's arm tight even as the other agent's eyes closed slowly…

Gibbs took control of the situation the way he took control of almost every situation: gruffness and barking. "McGee! No sleeping!" And the sharp tone didn't help the six boys, who jumped ever-so slightly, trembling with fear and probably cold. But the order did have the desired effect on McGee.

"On it…boss…" The words were stuttered, quiet, but still definitely there. Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs noticed Ziva attempt to approach the kids, heard the trooping of the paramedics above. Gibbs knelt next to Tony, stared at the beam of wood, as thick as his fist, jutting out of McGee's side.

First, because he had to ask, because it was Tony, he said, in a voice that was clipped with worry and no small amount of anger, "Are you hurt, DiNozzo?"

"No, boss." Tony couldn't even look chagrined, his habitual appearance when being berated by the older agent. His worry for McGee was all-consuming, palatable even through Gibbs' ire, and he softened ever so slightly.

"What the hell happened here, Tony?"

And so he got the whole story in a short, quick burst. How he had cajoled McGee into checking out the house with him. How they'd found it seemingly empty and were on their way out. How McGee had fallen, had found the kids, had hurt himself so badly in the process.

At the end, Gibbs' eyes were terribly angry, but, worse, Tony could see disappointment in them so clearly he looked away. It was no secret that he looked to Gibbs as a father, that he could only hope the older man would occasionally think of him as a son. He could take anger, but disappointment, especially justly placed disappointment, was harder for him to stomach.

"Go take care of the kids, DiNozzo." In a voice that obviously meant that they weren't finished here but was also a dismissal, a brush off, a type of punishment, because it meant that Tony couldn't do the one thing he so desperately needed.

"Boss, I need to stay with McGee. I got him into this mess." He'd meant the words as an example of him standing his ground, because damnit if he didn't feel something for McGee after all these years.

But Gibbs had taught the crash course in stubbornness, and knew exactly how to hit Tony where it hurt. DiNozzo, in Gibbs' opinion, had known that going into a house, injured, to possibly meet the man who'd shot him, was stupid, reckless, and could have gotten him killed. Dragging McGee into it was near unforgivable. "Yeah, you did, DiNozzo." Gibbs placed a hand on McGee's chest, just to make sure it was still rising and falling, It was…barely. "And I gotta tell you, his chances don't look good." Tony's face fell at the words, because they were said so angrily, because they were warranted, because they were true… "Now go help those kids."

To Tony's credit, he did start towards the small knot of boys, but not without a long look of concern at McGee. "You'll be okay, Probie."

As Gibbs settled down next in Tony's spot and took McGee's hand, he couldn't help but think that Tony's last sentiment was an unrealistic dream. Right now, it seemed like McGee's very survival was in question.

"You have to come with us." This from an EMT who looked about sixteen, though he was no doubt older. He put a hand on Jay's shoulder in a way that was obviously meant to be comforting, guiding, maybe even helping to prop the boy up.

Ziva had mostly given up on the boys, who had rebuffed all her attempts to get them to the paramedics, and was waiting anxiously by McGee. Now, though, she turned to the EMT and snapped at the same time as Tony, "Don't touch them!"

Jay flinched badly at the touch, his eyes going wide, his mouth opening in an O. "Please…" He murmured, eyes darting over to Tony and locking there. "Please…"

Tony realized then that, if he couldn't be with McGee (who was being loaded onto a gurney to be sped away to Bethesda, who hadn't opened his eyes, hadn't spoken since Gibbs had walked in, who had a plank in his side, who was his Probie) he could at least be the boys' advocate. "I'll get them out." He told the paramedic, the patented DiNozzo grin only a few watts below average, "Just make sure there's ambulances and medicine for them outside."

The paramedic looked dubious, but had also been startled at the violent reaction from Jay. He left without further ado.

Once again, Tony knelt in front of the boys. "Listen, guys, we're going to get you medicine. And food. And some new clothes. No one is going to hurt you, but someone's going to have to touch you in order to help you feel better. Got it? Kiddo?" he looked at Bobby, the youngest, and saw the faintest of nods. "Do you want to hold his hand on the way up the stairs?" He gestured to Jay, who was obviously the 'leader' of the six. "Will that make you feel better?"

"You won't let anyone hurt us?" The voice was accented, from a black boy who might have been as old as Jay. "You promise?"

The words may have sounded childish from any other thirteen-year-old on the planet, but they damn near made Tony's heart break.

He swallowed. Hard. "I promise. You'll be alright." Tony flashed the grin, the one that seemed to make people trust him, one that McGee would have used in this situation. "You're safe with me."

Another boy, young with serious grey eyes and long black hair, reached out unexpectedly to grab Tony's hand, hold it tight. "Okay." Tony said, working past the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. "Okay. We're getting out of here."

Gibbs stopped Tony before he climbed in the ambulance behind the kids. "Stay with them, DiNozzo. You have to be their advocate until Social Services gets into this mess."

"Sure, boss." Tony said, looking around Gibbs to the floor of the house, which was now empty.

Gibbs read his expression, or perhaps his mind. Tony would never put it past the older agent to be able to read his mind. "They got to the hospital a couple minutes ago. Ziva's with him." Gibbs paused, wondering if the next piece of information would interfere with Tony's ability to do his job. But he owed his Senior agent at least this much. "It doesn't look good. His heart stopped in the ambulance."

Tony reacted to the news as well as anyone, with a stricken, grief-filled expression washing over his features first, followed quickly by deep, awful guilt until that too was wiped off and he managed to arrange his face in a picture of normalcy. "Yeah." He swallowed, hard. "Okay."

A soft scream behind him, cut off at the end, the sharp crack of what he was coming to know as Jay's voice, "Don't touch him! You have to be careful – he's just a kid!" As if Jay himself wasn't a 'kid'.

"I…I gotta go, Boss." He knew that even though he'd be in the same hospital as McGee they wouldn't cross paths, that he'd probably hear nothing of the man, "Just…tell me. One way or the other."

One way or the other was code for whether or not McGee was alive after Tony's recklessness caused him get impaled with a piece of wood. Gibbs nodded tightly, then reached out to touch Tony's shoulder in a rare display of affection.

"You did good, Tony." And Tony had enough presence of mind to know that he was talking about finding the kids, not hurting one of his best friends. Gibbs lifted his hand, hit Tony so lightly on the back of the head that it was barely there. "You ever blatantly ignore regulations again and I'll fire your ass."

"Yeah, Boss. Thanks."

Another muffled yell and Tony had to pull away, walk dazedly to the ambulance and climb in. He turned in time to see Gibbs conversing with…oh, someone, either police or FBI or…whoever, before he turned back to the kids, and the chaos he'd been dropped in the middle of.

Legal systems are not our forte, but we pretty much have social services down pat, thanks to a few other fanfics we wrote that had DYFS storming in. Hopefully the next couple of chapters will be psuedo-accurate enough not to detract from what is left of the plot.

And, as always, please review.