One moment Tony was standing with his back to the apartment door and the next he was kneeling by Tim's side, pushing aside a growling dog that wouldn't hesitate to attack to protect his human. Lucky for him, the dog recognized his scent and identified him as Annoying But Not Dangerous.

"McGee?" Tony said softly, a hand hesitantly reaching out to touch a still shoulder.

"I'm okay, Tony."

Tony jerked his hand back to cover his chest.

"You scared me!" he accused, trying to breathe calmly to slow his frantically beating heart. "What the hell are you doing laying on the floor?"

Tim finally opened his eyes to look up at Tony, who immediately saw a mixture of embarrassment, exhaustion and pain - mostly pain.

"What happened?" Tony asked again.

A blush spread across Tim's face.

"I wasn't expecting Audrey to bring Jethro by - I didn't even know he was here. I got up to use the bathroom and he was so excited to see me he knocked me off my feet. I… I can't seem to get up."

Tim closed his eyes and prepared himself for Tony's laughter.

Tony looked at Jethro. The dog - now that he wasn't growling - had a distinctive guilty aura about him. Tony shook his head.

"So, you've been down there for awhile then?"

Tim's eyes flew open, shocked that Tony wasn't teasing him - yet.

"Couple hours, I guess."

Tony looked around and saw Tim's cell sitting on top of his nightstand - well out of reach.

"That would be why you weren't answering your phone."

Tim glared up at Tony.

"Do you think you could help me?"

Tony grinned, glad that his ploy to distract Tim from the embarrassing aspect of the situation worked.

Tim grimaced and gritted his teeth, and even after he was finally back on his feet he had to cling to Tony's shoulders to stay standing. And once up the embarrassment began to make a come back.

"Don't worry about it, McGee. How about I run a bath for you and while you're in there I can whip up something for dinner."

Tim violently shook his head and his face turned a brilliant shade of red.

"Let me guess… you don't think you can get into and out of the tub?"

Tim shook his head again and Tony finally laughed.

"Probie, when I was in high school I broke my ribs and sprained my ankle playing football. Louisa - the housekeeper - was the one who had to help me in and out of the tub. If I could survive that disaster of embarrassments you can survive this."

Tim thought it over. He had been on the floor for a long time and he was feeling uncomfortable. Being clean would be nice.

"All right, fine," he said, letting out a sigh.

Tony tried to lead him to the bed to rest while the tub was filling but Tim refused and ended up leaning against the bathroom doorjamb instead, watching Tony test the water that was filling the tub.

"What time is it?" Tim asked as Tony dried his hands.

Tony glanced at his watch.

"6. Shit! I need to call Gibbs yet. And Abby."

A look of utter fear crossed Tony's face as he thought about his team - and Abby - sitting at work, not knowing what was going on. He was going to die three different ways for not calling immediately.

Finally though he shrugged. It'd been so long already that a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

"Okay, Probie, how do you want to do this?"

Two red faces, one wet shirt, one man in the tub and five embarrassing minutes later Tony left the bathroom, leaving the door ajar behind him.

He had Tim's pajamas with him and looked around for a washer and dryer. He found them hidden in an alcove in the hallway, kept out of sight by doors that slid open like the closet in the bedroom. He threw the clothes in the washer and added in the rug by Tim's bed. Once the washer was going he finally took out his cell phone and called Gibbs.

"Gibbs."

The phone was answered nonchalantly, but Tony wasn't fooled. He knew his boss was worried.

"He's alright, Boss. The dog knocked him off his feet and he couldn't get back up."

"Did ya get lost on the way?" Gibbs bit out.

"No Boss. I made it here in good time. Probie was out of bed because he had to use the bathroom," Tony said, hoping for Tim's sake he wouldn't have to spell it out to Gibbs. He got a grunt in reply that told him he was in the clear.

"He's in the tub right now and I'm going to make him something to eat." Tony paused for a moment. "He really shouldn't be out of the hospital, Boss. He's not looking good and just spent three hours laying on the floor."

"You can't force him to go back."

Tony sighed.

"I know. But I don't think…" He trailed off, not sure if asking for time off would be a good idea or not, not while they were dealing with a new case.

"I'll talk to Vance. Stay with McGee for at least tonight," Gibbs said, answering his unspoken request.

"Thanks Boss. I need to get something going for him for dinner. Could you call Abby for me?"

Gibbs snorted in amusement. "No, you call her yourself, DiNozzo."

And then Tony was listening to dead air. With a sigh he headed for the kitchen and punched Abby's speed dial number.

"Tony! Is Timmy okay?"

Tony smiled at Abby's hyperactive concern.

"Yeah, he's okay. He fell and couldn't get back up."

"Oh, my poor Timmy! Was he on the floor for long?"

"A couple hours."

Abby gasped.

"I'm coming over!"

"Abby, don't. He's tired and sore. I'm going to feed him and get him in bed. I have Gibbs' permission to just stay here so I'm going to spend the night. I'll watch over Jethro and make sure he doesn't trip him up again."

There was a long pause before Abby spoke again.

"Jethro tripped McGee?" she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Yeah Abs," Tony said, rolling his eyes. Abby would forgive that dog anything.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over and help?" Abby asked, trying wheedle him into changing his mind.

"No Abs. I really need to get Tim something to eat. I'll call you in the morning and let you know how he is."

Abby paused for a moment, considering if that was good enough for her. Finally she let out an overly dramatic sigh.

"Fine. Give McGee a hug for me and you be nice to him!"

Tony just barely held in a sigh of his own. "Of course I will, Abby. Good night." He hung up the phone before Abby could try continuing the conversation.

He opened the refrigerator to find it stocked with new food. He smiled, sure that Ziva was behind it. They had all known that Tim wouldn't be able to stand being at the hospital much longer. Obviously Ziva had realized that he definitely hadn't needed to come home to a kitchen full of rotten food.

Searching around he found exactly what he needed and with a grin pulled out a skillet and began cooking.

*****

Tim spent twenty minutes in the tub, luxuriating in being able to soak in the warmth of water rather than suffer through another sponge bath with Nurse Zimmer. Or her occasional replacement - Nurse Sanders… Charlie Sanders.

As he relaxed he mentally accessed how he was doing. He was feeling weak and tired, but at the same time he was ravenously hungry. His lips quirked in a grin - he hoped Tony wasn't going to poison him with dinner.

The grin fell from his lips as he thought about earlier. Tony could've made the whole experience miserable and irreversibly mortifying. But instead the man had taken everything in stride and had not let Tim dwell on what had happened. After all, it couldn't be helped. He had tried keeping his bladder at bay, but it won. He had been so ashamed as the warm spot had spread that tears escaped his eyes in droves.

Tim had briefly allowed himself to once again fall back into memories of a dream of another time and place - where he wouldn't have been left alone for even a moment.

But then Jethro had whined and licked the tears away and Tim remembered that in the dream Jethro had remained Butch and had been put down for attacking him. So, rather than losing himself again, he shuffled closer to his dog and rested his head against the furry, warm side and fell back asleep with Jethro's chin on his shoulder.

When Tim began to feel sleepy laziness slink through his bones he knew it was time to get up. Or, to more exact, it was time to reverse the procedure that got him in the tub.

After taking several deep breaths to fortify his nerves for the experience ahead Tim called out to Tony.

*****

Tony managed to find a robe buried back in Tim's closet and had that ready to go, and he was glad of that decision. Pulling Tim from the tub required a lot of effort because the man was so boneless everything was on Tony's strength. It was all Tim could do to manage to stay standing on his own long enough for Tony to help him with his boxers and gently get his arms through the sleeves so he could wrap the robe around him.

"Okay Probie, it's time to get you something to eat," Tony said, putting Tim's left arm around his shoulder. Tim was so tired that he didn't protest to being led towards the kitchen, most of his weight taken on by Tony.

He was lowered gently into a chair and soon a plate was set in front of him with two slender burritos arranged artfully in a perpendicular stack.

"Burritos." It came out deadpan and monotone but in Tim's mind he was saying it with a mix of curiosity and wonderment. He had dreamed of Tony making burritos and a hopeful little part of his mind was wondering if his dream hadn't been a dream at all.

"Yeah, burritos. I've told you before that I make a mean burrito!" Tony said, pretending to be hurt by the blank look he was getting, but instead hiding the concern he felt. The faraway look in Tim's eyes was back. He had hoped - they all had hoped - that the look would disappear once he was out of the hospital.

Tony stared at Tim who in turn stared at the burritos. Tony broke down first.

"All right, come on McGee. You've got to eat. I make a mean burrito but these aren't really my best. My best includes bacon and sausage and cheese and peppers all topped with hot sauce." He broke off for a moment mentally savoring the taste of previous concoctions. He shook his head and continued on. "What you've got in front of you is eggs wrapped in tortilla shells. Nothing that will upset your stomach. And once you've got those down then you can go back to bed."

Tim didn't look up, but he did pick up one of the burritos and took a bite. He chewed slowly and methodically, swallowing thickly. He heard rather than saw a glass being set in front of him and he was relieved to see a small glass of milk.

Tony was glad to see Tim raise his head and smile a little, but he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He watched each bite reach Tim's mouth via a shaky hand and the liquid in the glass shiver from the minute tremors.

"So the doctors let you go?" Tony found himself blurting out.

Tim paused mid-chew to look at him, and nodded.

"And was that because they decided there was nothing wrong with you or because you decided you didn't want to stay?"

Tim turned his gaze to the remains of the final burrito that sat on his plate. His silence told the whole story.

"I hate hospitals as much as the next guy Probie, but I stay until the doctors tell me it's time to go."

Tim raised his eyebrows, an incredulous look on his face.

"You came back from the plague incident a week early!"

"Ah, yes, but I was already out of the hospital by that time," Tony reminded him, a grin slowly creeping up on him. It broadened when Tim tentatively smiled back.

"But you shouldn't have come into work," Tim pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah," Tony said with a wave of his arms. And then he crossed them and sat back, growing serious. "Why did you leave the hospital before you were cleared to go?"

Tim shifted uncomfortably and looked back at the uninteresting burrito.

"I just didn't want to be there any more. I wanted to sleep in my own bed."

"I can understand that, but there's more to it than that."

Tony waited through Tim's silence for several long minutes before giving in and prodding some more.

"You're going to talk to me, tell me what's going on in your head. If you keep it inside of you, Probie, you're never going to talk. You're going to bury it and it's going to sink you."

Tim looked up and stared at Tony with a stubbornness that he was more used to seeing in the mirror. But he had one more weapon up his sleeve.

"Please, Tim."

Any older brother knows that a younger brother knows you're serious when you both ask politely and actually call them by their name. And sure enough, Tim's resolve wilted.

Tony looked on with concern as Tim slumped over in his chair, his elbow hitting the table seconds before his forehead hit his palm. He was about to jump up when Tim began to talk.

"I know I was in a coma for three weeks," Tim began, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've all told me that and my body is screwed up enough for it to obviously be true."

Tony leaned in closer, trying to hear Tim better.

"But that's not at all what happened, at least not in my mind. I had some sort of dream or extremely prolonged hallucination or something. Because in my mind - in my memories - I woke up three days after being shot."

Tim stopped talking then and Tony let him work through his thoughts.

"Abby was there - when I woke up. But things weren't the same. She - we."

Tim took a deep breath and pushed back on the table until he was sitting up, looking Tony in the eye.

"Abby and I were married and we had a daughter - Grace - and another baby on the way. You and Ziva were together and had been for awhile. Living together and thinking of getting married. Gibbs was happier and he and Ducky and Jimmy were this strange little clique - all so different but all really good friends at the same time.

"Abby, Gracie and I lived in a two story home with a dark unfinished basement perfect for the coffin and her old voodoo paraphernalia and Gracie's bedroom was done in shades of pink and black with happy skeletons as the central decorating scheme. Although Gibbs had gotten a Baby Bert made for her so she could have one like her Mom."

Tim's wall had been broken and everything he had been holding in, everything he was trying to cope with on his own came spilling out. And Tony took it all in stride, listening without interruption. And when Tim's hand ended up pressed to his side, covering his wound and pallor began to take over the flush from his warm bath and hot meal, Tony got him up and to the bedroom. He got Tim out of his robe and tucked into bed, but Tim never stopped talking. Telling Tony about how each person was different but the same. Telling him stories of little events and funny things said.

Eventually though Tim's voice began to fade out and his eyelids began to droop on their own accord. But even after Tim ran out of words Tony stayed sitting on the edge of Tim's bed, looking down at his friend.

"Tony?" Tim said in a hesitant voice.

"Hm?"

"What do I do?"

"About what?"

"About all of this - all these memories that aren't really memories."

Tony had to really think of how to answer the question. He was surprised he was even asked, since Tim wasn't ever one to ask him for advice. Finally though he had an answer.

"You keep it with you. They sound like nice things to think about sometimes - and maybe you can use parts of it in your next story. But don't ever forget that you're here, McGee. You're with us, for better or worse. We may not be like the people in your dream but we'll always be here for you."

Tim slowly opened his eyes and stared at Tony before slowly nodding his head.

"I know you are," he said, his eyes falling closed again. "I don't mean to make it sound like what I experienced while in my coma was better than reality."

"I know that, Probie," Tony said, but his words fell on deaf ears, for Tim was asleep.

Tony puttered around the apartment awhile - cleaning the dishes, straightening up the kitchen, feeding Jethro his dinner and keeping an eye on the dryer so he could stop it before it buzzed and woke up Tim. Once the clothes were done and folded and set aside he got out the sleeping bag he'd found earlier and unrolled it, setting it up out of the way in case Tim got up in the middle of the night.

Tony lay on top of the sleeping bag, Jethro curled up by his side. He stared into the darkness, not yet tired but unwilling to make too much noise. He thought about what Tim had told him. The one thing that stuck out - even over the idea of being in a relationship with Ziva - was the surprise Tim had expressed to find that in this dream world he was best friends with Tony. Tony had barely hidden the hurt at hearing that.

He turned his head until he knew he was speaking in the direction of Tim.

"We're not perfect, Tim. We don't try to be. But I'll try to make sure you never again doubt that you're my best friend," Tony whispered into the dark.

Having said that he felt better - and tired. So he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes and soon was off into a dream world of his own.

Sorry that took so long! I was struggling with certain parts of this... but decided it had to be there to show how much Tony really does care for Tim. That he isn't some frat boy that's going to pick on Tim just because of what happened.

No promises on how long it will or won't be until the next chapter!