Tony sat on the edge of the bed, his legs hanging, feet swinging back and forth, heels hitting the side with a steady thump. Ducky stood in front of him, patiently buttoning his shirt.

Tony looked down at the doctor's fingers as they closed one button then the next. "I used to be able to do 'em myself," he sighed, "before I broke my arm." He shifted his eyes down to his casted left arm, a hint of resentment in his gaze.

"I know you could, Anthony," Ducky assured him, "but it's all right to get a little help now."

Tony looked back up into the older man's kind blue eyes. "Boss needs help now…doesn't he?"

Ducky finished the last button and took a step back, rested his hand on Tony's knee. "Yes, he's going to need a lot of help for a while."

Tony tightened his lips, biting gently on the lower one, then took a deep breath. "I can help him."

Ducky nodded. "I was counting on that, but…" he hesitated for a moment.

"What, Duck?" Tony questioned.

And the medical examiner smiled at the shortened version of his nickname. Just like Jethro, he thought, tightening his hand on Tony's knee. "It's just that… Well, you know Boss doesn't always accept help very well."

Tony's eyes squinted in confusion. "But if he needs help," he reasoned, "then we'll help him."

Ducky sighed, hoping it would be that easy, but suspecting that it wouldn't. Still, he agreed. "Of course, we will. All of us." He moved his hand to Tony's shoulder, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "Are you ready to go see him?"

Tony was off the side of the bed and at the door in an instant, pushing it open and stepping into the hall. And Ducky laughed softly. "I'll take that as a yes," he observed, picking up Tony's jacket and following him.

~vVv~

At some point in the elevator, between the third floor and the fifth, Tony had reached out and taken hold of Ducky's hand. And now, Ducky felt the hand around his fingers tighten as they came into view of the ICU window that looked in on Gibbs' room. There was a man sitting beside Gibbs' bed, and Tony drew in a deep breath.

"That's Boss's boss," he murmured.

Ducky knew that the man was Jackson Gibbs. After all, he was the one who had called him and told him about Jethro's accident.

"Yes, I suppose that is Boss's boss."

"But Boss calls him Jack," Tony continued. "Sometimes he calls him Dad, but mostly just Jack. He's gotta picture of him in his room." He turned and looked at Ducky. "I call him Jackson. That's his real name."

Ducky just nodded, suspecting that Tony had also perfected the spelling and writing of that name as well. And then, taking a firmer grasp on Tony's hand, he led him over to the open door of the ICU room.

Gibbs looked up from his father, a soft expression immediately replacing the strain on his face. "Hey, Buddy."

Instead of going to him, Ducky felt Tony pull back slightly, unsure of the room and the monitoring equipment that was attached to Gibbs. He gave the younger man a gentle push. "It's all right, Anthony. You can go to him."

Jackson got up from his chair, smiling at Tony. "Come on in, son," he encouraged, taking a step back, clearing the path from the door to the side of the bed.

Still, he hesitated, swallowing, looking down at the floor, then back up. "Boss?"

"Come here, Tony." Gibbs held out an arm, and Tony went to him then, let his Boss pull him into a one-armed hug. He buried his head in Gibbs' shoulder, and the tears came, unbidden and unchecked, dripping down his cheeks, soaking into the cloth of Gibbs' gown. "Shh," Gibbs hushed, his hand rubbing Tony's back. "Everything's all right."

Tony mumbled into his shoulder, the words hoarse and muffled, but unmistakable. "Don't want…ice cream."

"Ah, Buddy," Gibbs sighed, glancing at his father and Ducky over Tony's bent form. "This isn't your fault." His voice hardened a bit. "Do you hear me? This isn't your fault," he repeated.

And Tony pulled back slightly, enough to where he could look into Gibbs' face. Hastily, he rubbed a fist over his eyes, scrubbing at the tears. "But…but…I wanted ice cream, and…if we didn't go to the store, then…"

"Hey," Gibbs touched his own fingers to Tony's cheeks, wiping away the wetness. "I wanted Tobasco sauce, remember?"

Tony swallowed and nodded.

"It was an accident," Gibbs continued. "Just an accident. Nobody's fault."

But even from across the room, Ducky could see in his eyes the words he didn't say. Nobody's fault – but mine.

~vVv~