Many hugs to Tweeter for helping me out with some of the details in this chapter. Muchly appreciated :)
Thanks also to everyone for reading and for the awesome reviews... hope you enjoy!

super-em


Chapter Seven

Tony leant forward in the bed, knees bent as he coughed. He looked around the isolation room. Everything was white, stark white. It was all too similar to the isolation room at Bethesda when he'd been infected with the plague. But at least then he had Kate to keep him company. Gibbs had ordered Ziva to accompany McGee to the Navy base to interview people about the dead petty officer. Never mind that it was the middle of the night.

He lowered himself back onto the pillow, being gentle of his aching head. Nobody was telling him what was happening. Since the results of his blood test had come back, he'd been whisked into this room for observation and apart from Ziva talking through the communicator in the wall, he had nobody to talk to. He could see Ducky standing outside, talking to a doctor.

Looks serious, he thought, observing their solemn faces. Ducky glanced over again, looking at his watch. Why does he keep doing that? Is anybody going to tell me what's going on?

Another cough racked his body, sending shudders through his skull. Deep breaths, Tony. Just keep breathing. A flash of movement caught his eye through the glass walls of his sterile prison. Gasping for air, Tony looked over, focusing his eyes. Two doctors and two nurses had entered the sterilization chamber, dressing in the appropriate masks and coats to protect themselves from infection. They were pushing a large machine between them.

Entering the room, the medical staff busied themselves connecting the machine. Tony cleared his throat.

"Uh, does anyone want to tell me what's going on here?"

A doctor turned around, almost as if just noticing Tony was there.

"Ah, special agent DiNozzo. Allow me to explain. We are about to place you on hemodialysis to prevent the virus from causing renal damage. This machine will pump the blood from your body, passing it through a hydrostatically pressurized semi-permanent membrane to remove the toxins from your bloodstream."

He said this very quickly, leaving Tony feeling a little dazed. The medications they had placed him on to quell the vomiting and fever weren't helping him concentrate.

"So, let me get this straight. The virus I somehow caught is damaging my kidneys?"

The doctor nodded.

"The toxins in your blood have the potential to cause damage to and even destroy your kidneys when the kidneys try to filter the blood. By placing you on dialysis, we hope to remove the virus before it has a chance to do any damage."

"Okay, is this gonna hurt?" Tony asked somewhat nervously.

"No, not the treatment itself. It will make you feel weak and tired though."

Tony snorted. He already felt weak and tired.

"The other thing you need to be aware of," the doctor continued "is that the dialysis machine will also remove the medications from your bloodstream, so the vomiting and headaches that we have been treating will return."

"Damn. The whole constant-puking thing was getting a bit old. How long is this gonna take?" Tony sat up in bed, eyeing the catheter a nurse was holding warily.

"Should take about 4 hours, since this is your first time. The good news is, further analysis on your blood sample has shown that the virus will not be contagious in its airbourne form whilst you are in this room, so you are permitted to have some visitors. They will, of course, be required to wear face masks."

Tony nodded at the doctor, eyes still focused on the nurse.

The other doctor came over, taking the catheter from the nurse.

"Okay Tony." He said. "You may feel a little sting."

"OUCH!!!!!!!!!!"

OOOOO

McGee and Ziva stepped out of the sedan. It was still dark outside, but hints of morning light were beginning to peep over the horizon.

"0400 hours. This is ridiculous," Ziva grumbled, looking around at the empty parking lot of the Navy base.

"Tell that to Gibbs," McGee replied, pulling on his NCIS jacket in the crisp air.

"Well I tried doing that, but he wouldn't listen. This is a waste of time, I should be with Tony, he shouldn't be alone."

"Ducky's still with him," McGee reminded her.

Ziva nodded, holding her arms close to her body for warmth.

"I suppose. Even so, this is strange even for Gibbs. Working all night I do not mind, especially if we are down an agent. But sending us out to interview suspects at the crunch of dawn is totally nonsensical."

"Crack of dawn." McGee corrected, taking his kit from the boot of the car. "But Gibbs is always a little strange where Tony's concerned."

"I have noticed that," Ziva said as they headed towards the administration building. "I always assumed it was because he has known Tony the longest."

"Maybe," McGee said, thinking of Gibbs' almost-affectionate head-slaps and the stuff Tony got away with that nobody else would dare to try.

The two agents pushed open the doors of the admin building, flashing their badges to the officer on duty at the front desk.

"Special Agent McGee, Officer David, NCIS." Ziva said briskly. "We need to speak with Major Neilson."

The duty officer was young and obviously not used to NCIS agents barging in during the graveyard shift.

"Major Neilson doesn't come in until 0500, ma'am." He said timidly.

Ziva scowled, turning to McGee.

"What now then?"

"Guess we wait." McGee sighed, taking a seat on one of the hard plastic chairs.

OOOOO

"Gotta tell ya Abs, I'm usually much more charming than this," Tony said weakly, bent over a basin in his hospital bed.

Abby smiled, stroking his hair. She'd caught Gibbs' at a weak moment and he'd finally allowed her to return to the hospital to see Tony. Two hours into the dialysis treatment and still vomiting, she had to agree. He'd had better days.

Abby shifted on the bed, sitting close to him to offer support. He'd lost the colour that had returned to his face when he'd been admitted to hospital; his skin was pale and clammy again, layered in cold sweat. She ran her fingers over his skin, careful not to bump the plastic tube which was inserted into the vein in his neck, drawing the blood out through one opening and returning it through the other, hopefully virus-free.

"You could put one of these machines in your lab, Abby," Tony said, lying slowly back on the mountain of pillows Abby had piled behind his back.

"It'd fit in pretty well with all those contraptions you have down there."

She chuckled, moving the basin to the table beside the bed and lying down beside her friend.

"I don't know that I'd have much use for it Tony, but I think a few of my vampire friends would be very interested."

"Clean the blood before they drink it? Didn't know vampires were so fussy."

"Vampires are surprisingly hygienic for …well, blood suckers."

"Mhmm," Tony replied, his eyes closed. Abby propped herself up, examining her friend. She hated to see him hurting, and she hated the helpless feeling she was experiencing. Sitting up again, she slid off the bed, moving to sit beside Ducky in one of the stiff plastic chairs an orderly had brought in for them.

"How's he doing, Duck?" she said softly.

Ducky had been sitting there under the pretense of reading the worn paperback novel he held, but she knew full-well that his attention was solely focused on the numbers and flashing lights indicating the status of the dialysis machine, as well as the patient lying before them.

"2 more hours Abigail." He replied, patting her hand. "2 more hours and the procedure will be finished. By such time, the virus should be removed from his system and our dear friend will be feeling much better."

"Hope you're right Ducky," Abby said sadly.

Tony stirred, sleeping feverishly. Suddenly his eyelids popped open and he grabbed for the basin again, throwing up again. Abby gave Ducky a worried look, moving quickly to help him.

"Bloody hell." Tony said, wiping his mouth. His head was pounding, his throat was scratchy from the vomiting, his muscles ached. Everything hurt. Even the thin sheet covering his body felt like lead pressing down on him. Eyes shut, he tried to ride out the waves of pain, cautious of the catheter digging into his neck.

"How much longer do I have to do this, Duck?" He asked, longing for the medications which had made him feel considerably better only a few hours ago.

"I'm sorry, Anthony. The procedure takes another 90 minutes."

"Damn." Tony clenched his eyes shut a little harder, wishing it was all over and he could sleep peacefully, waking up without an excruciating headache and being able to keep his food down. Not that he had any appetite. The mere thought of his favourite meat-lovers pizza was enough to set him off again, and it took all of his will power to keep his mouth shut. He was sick of throwing up.

"An hour and a half's not too bad, Tony." Abby said, trying to be positive. She sat on the bed again, rubbing his back. Tony was shivering a little.

"An hour and a half is a lifetime," Tony muttered, lying back down again.