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NCIS
Present Day…
Ducky had already been at the hospital, after a phone call from Gibbs, when they arrived. He watched as McGee was rolled in first, an oxygen mask covering his paper white face and an IV sticking out of his arm. His shirt had been cut away, an EMT perched on the edge of the gurney, holding a pressure pad to his left side, trying to staunch the blood spilling from-what looked like-a bullet wound.
"Get him to the OR as soon as he's stable," a doctor said pushing past Ducky and moving toward the running EMTs. She followed them through a set of double doors.
Tony was rolled in next, blood coating the right side of his head. He was barely conscious, mumbling the same thing over and over: 'Where's McGee?' Ducky raced toward him, looking him in the eye while he desperately tried to keep up with the gurney.
"He's here, Anthony," Ducky said quickly, knowing Tony would only keep asking about his partner until he got an answer. "He's alive."
"Thanks," Tony sighed and his eyes slipped closed.
"Not again," an EMT said and he and his partner sped up, not long after Tony disappeared behind the double doors, too.
Ducky was soon joined by Gibbs and Ziva. He glanced back at Gibbs and asked, "What on earth happened?" Gibbs was too busy glaring at the double doors to answer, so Ziva took it upon herself to say, "DeFeo thoroughly beat them, shot McGee, and almost shot him again. Until Gibbs killed him." she looked around, "Where is Abby and Palmer?"
"I had Mr. Palmer take Abigail down to the cafeteria. It was either do that or have her camp out at the front doors, verbally attacking every EMT that ran inside." The words were barely out of Ducky's mouth when an elevator dinged behind him and a voice called, "Gibbs, you did it! You found them!"
Abby raced forward, skidding to a halt when she noticed the blood on Gibbs' hands. "Who's bleeding?" she asked slowly.
"Abby, perhaps…" Ziva tried.
"Who is bleeding?" Abby asked again.
"McGee," Ziva answered, "and Tony."
Several emotions fought for control over Abby's face, some Ducky could easily recognize some not so much, but worry won out. She took a breath, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and whispered, "How bad?"
"Anthony sustained a head injury," Ducky said before Ziva could open her mouth.
"He was in and out of consciousness before the EMTs showed up and on his way here," Ziva supplied just as Palmer joined them, holding a cup of some steaming liquid. He flashed them a questioning look.
"What about McGee?" Abby looked from Ziva to Ducky to Gibbs. She wanted-no needed-answers. "What about McGee?" she repeated impatiently.
Before Ducky or Ziva could reply, Gibbs said, "He was shot, Abs." Abby gasped and then burst into tears...
NCIS
Gibbs watched as Ducky wandered over to the nurse's station. He bent down, speaking quietly to a blond woman, glancing over at the small group every few seconds.
It had been a little over an hour since McGee and DiNozzo had been brought into the ER. They had had word on DiNozzo some thirty minutes ago. He had to have stitches in both his leg and head. A CT scan showed no signs of long term brain damage; just a head splitting concussion. He'd be stuck in the hospital overnight for observation, but could probably go home in the morning.
It was McGee they were waiting on. After Abby had gone to visit Tony, she took up refuge in a chair closest to the waiting room door, keeping a vigilant eye out for any doctors bringing them news. Palmer had just returned from seeing Tony and was sitting across from Gibbs, next to Ziva, his eyes locked on the floor. Shepard had shown up around the time DiNozzo's condition had been divulged and sat next to Gibbs, only getting up once to check on McGee's condition…
"He is still in surgery," Ducky said when he returned. Shepard had also gotten the same answer. "Nurse Kramer promised to inform us when he is out."
Gibbs didn't respond, instead getting to his feet. He mumbled something about going to get more coffee (he was on his third cup), and trekked away from the waiting room and down the hall. However, instead of letting his feet lead him to the coffee machine (the giver of the piss), he found himself heading toward DiNozzo's room.
Tony was on the fourth floor, yet this was the first time Gibbs made his way to his Senior Field Agent's room. It wasn't because he didn't care, he only head slapped the ones he cared about. Or, in Abby's case, hugged. And Ducky…well, he respected Ducky way too much to remotely think about slapping him in the back of his head.
If Gibbs was being honest with himself, it was probably because of the look on Tony's face. The panic, worry, and fear etched across his face when he was frantically trying to find McGee. It may have been from his concussion and blood loss, but it was still rare to see that much emotion break through the masks Tony carefully put up.
Besides, Gibbs had been hoping to get some information on McGee before he dropped in on DiNozzo. Tony would ask about Tim, no doubt. Especially when the last time Tony was conscious he was convinced McGee was dead.
Gibbs stopped short of DiNozzo's room, hesitating a fraction of a second before opening the door and walking inside.
DiNozzo was asleep, his head titled to the side. Gibbs could just make out his stitched up gash, hidden in his hairline, some of the hair clipped away for easier access. Tony would have a field day with that when he woke up; especially when he kept complaining about the bald spot at the crown of his head. It was as if one of Tony's fears was going completely bald.
Gibbs made to back out of the room, figuring a nurse would be in, in about an hour to wake him, but froze when Tony's eyes cracked open.
"Boss?" he whispered his green eyes locking on Gibbs.
"DiNozzo," Gibbs responded.
"Where am I?" his eyes broke away from Gibbs and scanned the room. His eyebrows were furrowed for a second but realization dawned on him. "Hospital," he answered his own question. Jethro had a feeling he had woken up the first time just as confused, but probably had to have a nurse tell him where he was.
"You okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked walking toward Tony's bed.
"Yeah," Tony said trying to sit up. His face paled, a hint of green appearing at the edges, and he lowered himself back down, breathing through his nose. Any other situation, Gibbs would have delivered a head slap for doing something so ill-advised. But, at this point a head slap could literally put DiNozzo in a coma, so Gibbs refrained.
Of course, that didn't stop him from pointing out Tony's mistake. "You honestly think sitting up is going to help you at all?"
"Sorry, boss," Tony muttered closing his eyes. He was quiet for a second, Gibbs sure he went back to sleep, but then his eyes flew open and he said, "Where's McGee?"
"He's here," Gibbs said taking a seat next to Tony's bed.
"Is he…?" Tony wet his lips, taking a breath. "Is he alive?"
"Yeah." As far as I know.
"I got him shot, boss." Tony had said the same thing in the woods.
"What do you mean?"
"I couldn't keep my mouth shut." DiNozzo was fading, his eyes slipping closed. "DeFeo told me to stop talking, I couldn't, and McGee ended up shot. He could die… because of me." Tony was out before Gibbs could respond to Tony's explanation.
Gibbs could think of several things that were Tony's fault. The fact that he contracted the plague (yes, he didn't send himself the contaminated envelope, but the pure fact that he opened it made the whole debacle partially his fault), super gluing his fingers to McGee's phone while trying to pull a prank on him, getting head slapped when he was napping on the job, Ziva threatening to kill him on a daily basis for half the comments that came out of his mouth-just to name a few. But getting McGee shot wasn't DiNozzo's fault, no matter what he thought, and Gibbs was sure Tim would see it that way, too.
NCIS
Gibbs returned to the waiting room about five minutes later. He walked past Abby, whose chin was resting on her knees, green eyes tracking his movements before flicking back to the door. Palmer was asleep, head resting against the wall. Ziva was flipping through a book Gibbs hadn't seen her bring in. And Ducky was talking on the phone to, what sounded like, his mother. Jethro lowered himself into the chair next to Shepard, who was trying to finish a crossword puzzle.
"Ambiguous," he said pointing at six down: Nine letter word for unclear.
"Why not 'uncertain'?" she questioned giving him a ghost of a smile.
"Why not 'ambiguous'?" he shrugged. She made to answer, but Abby's shout cut her off. Gibbs' head followed the shout; a doctor was heading toward them. He stood up, grabbing Abby's arm before she could pounce on the poor lady.
"How is McGee?" Abby demanded pulling her arm free of Gibbs' loose grasp and crossing her arms.
"I'm not even going to ask if you're family," the doctor said quickly blowing a piece of hair out of her face. She glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. "Agent McGee lost a lot of blood and had to have a transfusion, but as long as he takes it easy and avoids stress for a few days he should be fine."
"So, he's going to live?" Abby asked slowly not as if she didn't understand but for confirmation.
"Yes, he's going to live."
It was quiet for a second, and then Abby nearly knocked the doctor over when she threw her arms around her. "Thank you so much for saving Timmy!"
"Uh, you're welcome," the doctor said awkwardly patting Abby's back.
"Can we see him?" Abby questioned pulling away from the doctor.
"He's in recovery right now, but once he's been moved into a room he can have visitors." she promised to let them know when he had been transferred to a room and walked away from them. Abby started moving around the room, hugging everyone.
She saved Gibbs for last, clinging tightly to him. She whispered in his ear, "You did it, Gibbs. You found them. And they're going to be okay…" she broke away from him. "I've gotta tell Tony about McGee." and before Gibbs could stop her she had already sprinted away.
Gibbs watched her go, wondering how much of what she said was true. Yes, physically it seemed both DiNozzo and McGee were going to be fine, but what about emotionally? Tony was an emotional wreck (but probably just until he slept off the effects of his concussion and blood loss), and who knew what was going on with McGee? In the long run, only time would help mend the scars left behind from DeFeo's actions. Time and patience…
Sometimes Gibbs really wished he hadn't left Mexico…
NCIS
Technically he wasn't supposed to be out of his room. He was still suffering from a concussion, could easily split his stitches open, but he had to see for himself. He had to know that McGee was really okay.
McGee's room was on the same floor as his, but in a different wing. Tony managed to avoid the nurse making rounds by falling into step next to a visitor on his way out. Any normal day he would flirt with her, have her take him to McGee's room, and maybe get her number.
But he had a feeling Jeanne wouldn't appreciate that action. Plus, he already felt like he was going to throw up as it is. If he threw up all over her not only would it ruin his chances, but he would forever be deemed the agent who threw up on a nurse at Bethesda Hospital. And, if he stopped her she'd just cart him back to his room. It was best to avoid her as long as he could.
He broke away from the visitor when he found McGee's wing. He moved down the hallway, checking room numbers periodically. He found McGee's room at the end of the hall, his door closed. Tony grabbed the knob, counted to ten, and opened the door.
The first thing Tony noticed was the steady beeping coming from a heart monitor. He silently counted the beats for a few seconds, each seemingly lifting a weight off his shoulders. He moved further into the room, noticing the nasal canal across McGee's face. His skin was still pale, but not as sickly, deathly pale as it had been in the woods.
"I see you're asleep," Tony started lowering himself into a chair. He felt slightly dizzy, and his leg was bothering him. "So, I won't stay long." he was quiet for a second. "I know Gibbs always says that apologizing is a sign of weakness but…" Tony trailed off, McGee's eyelids had fluttered. He leaned forward, "McGee?"
Tim's hand moved toward his face, his fingers trying to grab the breathing canal, but Tony grabbed his wrist to stop him. "That needs to stay." he lowered Probie's hand back onto the bed, letting his wrist go.
"Tony?" Tim's eyes slowly opened, a confused look crossing his face. "Am…I…dead?"
"What? Why would you…?" DiNozzo took a breath. "No, Probie. You're not dead."
"But DeFeo…said you…were dead," McGee said slowly his eyes slipping closed.
"And you believed him? He was crazy."
"You…weren't…there. I had…been shot. I would have…believed anything he…said about you." Tim had yet to open his eyes; Tony could tell he was close to falling asleep.
"You were shot because of me," Tony responded looking down at his hands. "It's my fault you thought I was dead."
"Not…your…fault," Tim muttered. "DeFeo was…going to shoot…me eventually. And…you…too. You said...it yourself...he was…crazy.
"Besides…isn't apologizing…against Gibbs' rules?"
"You think Gibbs is going to kick the door in and yell at me for apologizing?
"No…but I have…a feeling he…twitched when you…apologized." Tony couldn't help smiling at McGee's comment.
"I wouldn't doubt that."
They fell silent; the only sound the steady beeping from McGee's heart monitor. After a few minutes McGee took a breath and said, "Gibbs shot…DeFeo didn't…he?"
"Yeah, twice through the chest." Tony hesitated. "I, uh, thought he hit you."
"Me…too." Tim sighed, "I'm kinda tired."
"Yeah, you're all doped up. I'd be tired, too."
"Shut…up…Tony…" not long after McGee's breath evened out and he was asleep, again.
Okay, so maybe it wasn't the forgiveness Tony's was expecting, but it seemed McGee didn't blame him. Well, not the drugged up McGee, at least. And, if Tony were being honest, he sorta preferred the drugged up McGee. He was less mouthy, less McGee-ish.
"Good night, McGee," he muttered shaking his head. He sank deeper into his chair, his eyes closing. Before he fell asleep he was pretty sure Tim whispered, "G'night, Tony…"