Chapter 10

Tim watched in horror as Tony splintered into a million tiny, translucent particles. He stood there, a look of utter shock on his face, and not a damn soul to see it. He ran a hand over his face, steadfastly ignoring the tears that were starting to form, and turned to watch them clean up, arrest everybody, and do all the tie up work.

"Timothy?" Ducky called his name, holding out his phone. "Are you still around? Anthony?" He spun around. "I have my mobile phone and you may use it to write to me if you are." He continued to hold out the small, older model phone, waiting for a response.

Tim spurred himself into action, grabbing the phone and replying.

Tony's gone, I think, Ducky. I'm going to follow Gibbs.

Ducky inhaled sharply when Tim set the phone back down. "That is quite unnerving my boy. Did I tell you..." He started a story, but stopped when something pressed his hand closer to his body, drawing his attention to the phone in his hand. "Well. You all are more like your boss than is often wise," he murmured, reading the text. "Oh, dear. My sympathies, my dear boy. Yes. Go with Jethro. Do not … disturb the equipment, however." Tim grabbed his sleeve, yanked on it like a child, frustration pouring through him, feeling almost as angry at the situation as Tony did. "Well, you're right. Forgive me. You do know better than that. Go on, then, my boy, and catch up. It would be easier for him to have someone with him, especially since ..." Ducky didn't have to finish his sentence. Tim knew what he would say. 'Since you are all each other has left.'

Tim patted Ducky's shoulder, moving the shirt enough to make it feel like a tap, and then moved away, the tap his apology and farewell. He joined the EMTs in the van, making sure not to touch anything. He watched in silence as they worked on Gibbs, treating the worst of his injuries.

XXX

Tobias watched impassively as the lawyer got what he deserved. Of course, he was yelling about his rights the whole way. "I don't know how you found me out, but it's not going to stand up in court…" He smirked, though he didn't know how Jethro and his team had done it. Knowing that bunch, though, he figured it involved 'faith and trust and a pinch of pixie dust.' He rolled his eyes. He and Emily had watched Peter Pan recently. It showed. Maybe the guy could get off as the crazy bastard he was.

He needed to find out what really happened. He had a report to write.

"Doctor Mallard," Tobias walked over to where the eccentric old man stood. "Care to tell me what the hell happened in here?" He had heard rumors and they didn't make any sense. If they were true, he'd have to apologize to Jethro. Or at least buy him a beer.

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy." The enigmatic ME quoted Shakespeare at him. Which worried him, because it meant that there were probably hinky things going on. "I should only like to tell this story once. Therefore, let us go to the hospital, and when everyone is around, I shall tell our tale."

Tobias looked around, saw that both teams had everything pretty much wrapped up. The men were being handed off to be taken to holding, and no one else was injured. Nothing needed done immediately, except for seeing how the old bastard was. "Yeah, alright," he nodded to the vehicles. "Let's go."

"Indeed. They are most likely headed to Bethesda." Mallard looked over at the ambulance pulling out. He watched the way it turned out of the parking lot, and nodded. "Yes. That is Damian. Lovely young man. They are headed to Bethesda."

Tobias blinked. Mallard could tell who it was by how the guy drove? He shook his head, and then turned to the man. "Yeah, alright. Let's go. If this is..." He wiggled his hand, not wanting to use their favorite word. "Strange, I'm gonna need to have something to put in my report. If I'm hearin' correctly, it ain't gonna fly."

"We are all good at a bit of occupational prevarication from time to time, are we not?" Mallard grinned.

Oh, god, Tobias thought. It was gonna be one of those.

XXX

Leon Vance drove to Bethesda on his own, his protective detail in the seats beside him and behind him. Martin and Fontaine were getting a ride with David, which left only Mallard, Palmer and Sciuto. He frowned, passing a red sportscar. The news he'd heard from the incident didn't make any sense. He was afraid the team was going to tell him something crazy, and he'd have to believe it. Again. He'd remembered a story his grandma had told him about the wind telling her to go check on his aunt. Turned out his aunt had gotten herself stuck in something. Nothing dangerous, but she'd been small enough to be scared, and if Granny hadn't gotten her out, it could've been a really bad thing. The wind. The wind. He shook his head, and pulled into the hospital, ignoring the concerned look from the agent beside him. He slid out of the seat, leaving one agent to park while the other came with him. Morris would catch up to them quickly enough.

He and Carter strode through the halls, the on-duty nurse directing him to the right room without much fuss. He nodded his thanks, and they kept on moving. Once they arrived at the floor, Leon noticed the whole gaggle of them plus Tobias Fornell of the FBI standing around, looking kind of forlorn.

"Director." Of course, it was Doctor Mallard that was the first to greet him.

"Ducky." Vance nodded. "How is he?"

"He's bruised, lost a little blood. Two ribs are bruised, and a bone in his arm is broken, but nothing more damaging than that. He is being rather stubborn. He's awakened a couple times already. He wishes to leave, but we all know that's not going to happen until they're ready to release him. They have given him a little bit of the stronger pain medication to help him sleep and to keep him as immobile as he can while he heals a little."

"Good. Glad to hear it." And he was. If Jethro Gibbs wasn't fighting the doctors, it was a bad sign. He turned to face the group and gestured to the collection of seats nearby. "Sit down, please." He found his own seat, and sighed. "Alright. Doctor Mallard, I need the story from you, and this time, the full and complete story."

"Are you certain you want to hear it, Director? It is a tale that will require some belief to understand." Ducky looked over at him, all joking completely gone from his expression.

"It's hinky," Abby added. "I mean, what I know of it is."

"I have heard some stories of my own, Abby. I know what you're talkin' about." He shrugged. "Tell me. If we have to spin this up, we all need to be on the same page."

"I do not have the whole story. Only Jethro does. However, I can piece together most of it. I have a feeling that Corporal Kruse was brought in because he is a dear friend of Jethro's and would cover the real witness nicely. So, perhaps that might be something we can look into for another ..." Mallard shook his head, and snorted self-deprecatingly. "Forgive me. I am getting ahead of myself. Jethro has been able to hear the voices of our two lost agents – I believe since we lost them."

"McGee and DiNozzo?" Leon's eyebrows rose in that incredulous expression he was sure he wore every day around this bunch.

"The very same, yes." Ducky nodded. "I received enough proof when they spoke through Jethro."

"That explains all that in my office." Leon said, the dots finally connecting. "He knew exactly what to tell Senior and Admiral McGee. I wondered if you all had discussed final wishes, or if he was just BSing again and had hit it correctly." He shook his head. "So. Let me guess. One of our boys followed Richardson home, spied on him, found out where he went, and reported back to Gibbs."

"That appears to be the case, yes. They must have learned how to manipulate matter to a small extent, because they have done a few things..."

Martin broke in. "Like messing around with my computer."

"Like messing around with Wendell's computer. Exactly." Ducky continued. Agent Fornell had an incredulous look on his face, and Leon noticed it, quirking his brow at him in a silent question.

"You all believe him? Gibbs can be so full of crap sometimes..."

"I have a text message here," Ducky pulled out his phone and passed it over to Fornell. "It was typed into my phone while it hovered in midair. It appears that I typed it."

Palmer gave a snort. "Yeah, right." Leon looked over, tilted his head, and Palmer continued. "It's just that Doctor Mallard doesn't … text anyone unless he's engaged in a meeting and it's urgent. It's rude, he says."

"Quite right, Mister Palmer," the ME replied. "If you'll note the timestamp, all of the rest of you save Fornell had left the scene."

"Alright, Ducky," Fornell admitted. "You make a pretty convincing case."

"Yeah. Continue on with the story, please." Leon gestured, and the all fell silent, except for the doctor.

He kept explaining what had happened, how he, Martin and McGee had decoded Richardson's code and how the men were the ones at the warehouse. "If you search, you may find the beginnings of a vast empire of crime." Ducky spoke with the anger of one who'd fought for long years against the evils of drugs. Leon understood that. He had too.

"We've got some idea, yeah," Fornell responded. "That's why I was so mad at Jethro when his 'witness' stumbled on to Richardson's warehouse. We'd been watching some of the players for months, but couldn't find their base. They had that other place to work out of."

"Either Timothy or Anthony must have followed him. I am uncertain. Then, the man somehow returned back here, told Jethro where to go, and Jethro acted with his usual efficiency, and disregard for the consequences." Abby looked ready to speak, but Ducky held up his hand. "No, my dear. I mean no disrespect for our fearless team leader. However, the man does tend to act when he has the appropriate information. It is part of what makes you such an effective team."

Abby nodded, granting the point.

"Go on, Doctor." Leon leaned back in his seat, wishing for a toothpick.

"You know most of the rest, I assume. I imagine there was some convincing when it came to Corporal Kruse, but perhaps our young men had a hand in that as well." Ducky smiled. "So, perhaps you should all consider what our story shall be while I go check up on our good team leader?"

"Sounds like a plan, Doctor Mallard. Thank you." Leon smiled, shook Ducky's hand, and turned to the group. "So? Two things: How to explain this one, and how to plan should our boys want to be involved again. Anybody have any ideas?"

XXX

Tim stood in the corner of the room, watching over Gibbs. The other man had been given some strong medication, and was slipping in and out of sleep. Tim had to fight to breathe, which was crazy considering he didn't actually breathe. He knew exactly what it was – he'd had panic attacks like this before. Usually after he'd gotten out of the situation, luckily, but they had happened. He tried to slow down his breathing, but he couldn't, and the heaving breaths turned into sobs.

" 'Gee?" Tim looked up to where Gibbs lay on the bed. "Whasswrong?" They'd given him something for the pain, and though he hadn't gotten too dopey, he had slept for a while. Not heavily enough, apparently.

"Sorry, Boss." He couldn't prevent his voice from cracking.

"Never..." Tim shook his head, and cut off his team leader.

"No, Boss, this time I have to apologize. Tony... did all that, took all those guys out, and then..." He bit his lip, falling silent for a moment as he finally was able to compose himself. "He … sort of dissipated. Like a raincloud or something."

"Dammit." Gibbs swore gruffly. "You boys did good, Tim." He heard the sympathy in Gibbs' voice.

"Thank you, Boss," Tim replied, sliding down to sit on the floor, curling up. He felt alone. He wasn't. Not with Gibbs still able to hear him. But no one could see him. No one would be able to tell where he was if something happened and he couldn't speak or manipulate anything. He was completely alone.

Gibbs grunted, and set about trying to sit up a little more.

Tim lowered his head, silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke. "Is this how you felt when we died?"

"Probably." Gibbs pulled no punches. He never had.

"Damn. I'm sorry." He moved to sit in the chair by the bed, at least until someone else needed it.

"Don't be. Still talkin' to you." Gibbs sounded tired. Tim decided to let him sleep.

"Sleep, Boss. I'll be here. If I'm not, I'll come back when I know you're awake." He sighed, still feeling empty and drained. He closed his eyes, trying to keep his composure and let his boss sleep.

"What? You can't let him go to sleep yet. Does he have a concussion?" Tim's eyes blinked wide open at the voice.

"Tony, you idiot! Where have you been?" He stood up, moving over to slug Tony in the arm. "You … melted. Turned into atoms or something. I thought you were gone!"

"Uh," Tony rubbed at his arm, and then scratched at his head. "I … don't know. I just remember apologizing and then floating away. Like falling asleep? I guess? And then I felt myself here. I don't know."

"Too much anger." Gibbs' eyes were still closed, but his voice sounded relieved. "You spent too much energy at once. Like … havin' a …" He let his voice trail off. The drugs must have been working well.

"Like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum and falling asleep on the floor." Tim snorted, smile smug, though he was relieved Tony was back, too.

"Yeah," Gibbs replied, then fell back asleep, overcome with the medication.

"So, what happened? I mean, I know we got the guys. I got the guys." Tony's smug grin was good to see, but Tim gave him a head slap just the same.

"Don't do that again, Tony. I didn't think you were coming back." His voice broke a little on the last word, unfortunately.

Tony started to say something flippant, but he looked up at Tim's face. "Yeah, alright. I'll try my best. I'll have to watch how much energy I use on the idiots. Or save that kind of thing for absolute emergencies."

"You do that." Tim returned to the chair.

"Hey, why do you get the chair, and I don't?"

"Because I was here first, and because I'll get up when someone else wants it instead of letting them sit … in the same place first."

"Good point, McSmarty-pants." Tony grinned, then leaned over, clapping his partner on the shoulder. "Didn't mean to worry you."

"Yes you did," Tim replied with a snort.

"Shu-up," Gibbs growled from the bed, not completely awake.

"Yes, Boss," they both chimed.

At that moment, Ducky appeared in the doorway. "Jethro, stop talking to Timothy and go to sleep."

"Tony, too." Gibbs made a wild gesture toward them, then tried to focus on Ducky.

"Well, that is pleasant news to hear. If you would let him sleep, he would get better much more efficiently." Ducky stepped further in, grabbed the chart and looked pointedly at the door.

"Alright, Ducky, don't get your panties in a wad." Tony sniped. "Don't pass that on, Boss. You go back to sleep. We'll be just outside with the team. Get better. C'mon. We can go talk out near the others. Listen to what they're saying." He jerked his head toward the door. Tim had to concede that it was a good idea.

To their surprise, Director Vance was telling a story. "So, Granny went back there, and Aunt Vonda's got herself all tangled up in one of her yarn boxes. Not the stuff she was currently using. But the old stuff. And it's dark, and Vonda's screamin' up a storm..."

THE END

For one of the challenges, we each had to write chapters independently and alternate, so you can try and guess who wrote which chapter ;) We are considering a sequel. Thanks for reading!