A/N - decided not to torture you with too long of a wait for an update. Hope you think its worth it!

Chapter 11

The shots and shouts roused Mike Franks from his slumber. He could hear the engine of another boat outside and instantly knew there was trouble. He grabbed Tony's weapon, which was on his bunk, and ran out on deck. His heart sank when he realised that Gibbs and DiNozzo were nowhere to be seen. He watched as a speedboat, which was ahead of the Jolita in the water, made a sharp 180-degree turn back towards him. Without provocation, the passenger raised his weapon, this time aiming towards Mike. Without a second thought, Franks took aim and fired a volley of shots in the direction of the boat. The gunman shuddered and dropped his weapon. Franks could tell he had hit him. The driver of the speedboat panicked as his passenger lost his balance and fell mortally wounded into the sea. He accelerated his boat for all she was worth and high-tailed it out of there and back in the direction from which he came. He wasn't sticking around for the fallout.

As all this was happening, Gibbs was swimming furiously towards DiNozzo. The Jolita continued ahead at 15 knots, quickly leaving them in its wake. Tony was floating face down in the water when he reached him. He immediately turned him over and checked to see if he was breathing. To his surprise, he was. There was blood in the water, so he examined Tony to try and find where it was coming from. The only clue was the small bullet hole in the padding of the life vest. The location of the wound, in the upper left hand side of his chest, left Gibbs fearing the worst. This was his fault, he realised. Tony's been shot and they were probably going to drown all because of him.

"I've got you, Tony," Gibbs said, pulling DiNozzo's unconscious form closer to him and fighting to keep his head out of the water. "Hold on," he pleaded desperately.

Gibbs could hear the engine of the speedboat approaching closer once again. He knew that all their attackers had to do was aim the boat at them and they wouldn't stand a chance bobbing helplessly in the water. He thought he heard more shots and tried to see what was going on. Then he saw one of the occupants of the speedboat hit the water. Again, he was unable to tell but hoped that it was Hernandez. He kicked his legs furiously to stay afloat and watched with relief as the speedboat sped away from where they floated.

However, they weren't out of the woods yet. Their sailboat continued sailing away from them. Gibbs watched as it grew smaller against the skyline.

Come on, Mike! Turn! I can't keep this up for much longer.

Meanwhile, Franks was searching the water for his friends. Where the hell were they? He rushed to the stern of the boat, his eyes scanning the water for the two agents. Then something in the water caught his eye, the unmistakable yellow of a life vest barely visible in the boat's wake. He grabbed the binoculars that were hanging from the wheel and trained them on the yellow speck. He knew DiNozzo had been wearing a life vest because he had earlier derived great amusement from teasing him. It was hard to see for sure but it had to be DiNozzo. Unfortunately, he could see no sign of Gibbs anywhere.

He knew he had to turn the Jolita around and go back for them. However, this is a very difficult task when you're alone in a sailboat minus a crew. He started immediately trimming the sail and turned the rudder hard to port to come around. His actions started the vessel on a wide left turn. He tried to keep his eyes on the yellow vest to maintain his bearings. In the distance he could see the speedboat disappearing into the evening sun. In Frank's mind, it seemed to be taking so long to get the boat around.

For Gibbs it seemed even longer. In his weakened state he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on to Tony. The feeling was all but lost in his fingers and he couldn't feel his toes. His lungs felt as though they were going to burst from the exertion. He was exhausted. His body was screaming at him to rest. More than anything he wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Again his vision was failing him. The sky and the sea seemed to meld into one blur of blue. He continued kicking his leaden legs, desperate to keep them both afloat. He was grateful that Tony had been wearing the life vest. He hoped that if he succumbed to the sea, that at least Tony might stay afloat long enough for Franks to get to him. He twisted in the water, trying to see where the boat was. He could see the shape of it in the distance but was unable to tell if it was going away from them or coming towards them.

As he gasped for breath in the chilly water, he continued to support Tony's head, keeping it clear of the salt water. Tony was deathly pale by now, which caused Gibbs great anguish. He couldn't tell whether or not he was still alive. His fingers were too numb to take a pulse, and with Tony wearing the life vest, he couldn't see whether or not his chest was rising. He placed his hand barely over Tony's mouth and was sure he could feel the warmth of his breathing. He allowed himself to relax in the knowledge that Tony was alive. He had no idea how long he had been floating there and wondered if he had passed out for a while because when he opened his eyes, all of a sudden there was the white hull of a boat looming very close to them.

"Hold on, Probie," Franks hollered, much to Gibbs relief.

Getting the two men back onto the Jolita wasn't going to be easy. Franks launched the small lifeboat, which was normally tied to the stern of the sailboat. He rowed over to the men floating in the water. Gibbs was never in his life so delighted to see Franks' yellow smoke-stained hands reaching out.

"You could've warned me you were taking a swim," Franks quipped comically. Gibbs would have laughed if he'd had the strength. Franks' expression altered when he saw how exhausted Gibbs was.

"Take…..take…Tony…..," Gibbs stammered through each rasping breath. "…..been shot…"

Franks did as Gibbs asked and grabbed the neck of Tony's life vest and, using all his strength, tried to haul his limp body onto the dingy. It was a difficult task to manage without capsizing the dingy. As Franks hauled, Gibbs used the last of his strength to get under Tony's body and push him up towards Franks. It worked and eventually they had Tony in the boat. Franks then turned his attention to Gibbs, who was starting to flounder in the water. With the whole of his energy sapped, there was nothing left and Gibbs slid below the surface.

"No you don't!" Franks said crossly, as he leaned out and grabbed one of Gibbs' hands as he disappeared under water. Leaning dangerously over the side of the boat, he pulled Gibbs to the surface once more. Gibbs coughed and choked, expelling the water he inhaled. Franks did his best to get Gibbs on the dingy, but it was no easy task.

"C'mon, Probie. You gotta help me," Franks shouted, as he desperately tried to get Gibbs on board. Franks could see that Gibbs was close to passing out, so slapped him deliberately hard on the face to bring him back around. Once Gibbs had his arms over the side of the boat, Franks managed to grab a hold of the belt of his trousers and used that to haul him in. Gibbs passed out on the floor of the small boat almost immediately and Franks sat back, tired but relieved that he had the two men. Now to get them back on board the Jolita.

His arms ached as he rowed to where he had anchored the sailboat. He reached for the rope and pulled the dingy right up to the diving platform at the stern. He was considering how he was going to get the unconscious men on board when he heard a distinct low moan. He turned to see from whom it was coming. Tony started moving slightly, his face contorted in agony as he regained consciousness.

"Woah, there DiNozzo. Take it easy, kid," Mike said, kneeling close to him and putting his hand on his chest to stop him sitting up too quickly. "You've been shot. I need to get you back on the boat. Can you stand?" Mike asked, hoping the answer was yes.

Tony took a deep breath and slowly tried to sit up with Frank's assistance.

"There you go," Franks said. Then Tony saw Gibbs lying face down in front of him for the first time.

"Gibbs!" he said, mustering what strength he could. "What happened?"

"Darn fool jumped in after you," Franks informed him. "Come on, up you get."

"Is he…..?"

"No, just exhausted. I'll come back for him," Franks replied.

With Franks' help Tony managed to get shakily to his feet. Franks managed to guide him safely back onto the sailboat. He put the wounded man on the seating at the helm while he went back to get Gibbs. Mike rolled him on to his back and tried to wake him.

"Come on, Probie. I could really do with you being awake right now," Franks said genuinely. He tried to get behind Gibbs and pull him by the shoulders. Gibbs was heavy and he struggled. "Wake up, Gunny! That's an order," he yelled, the strength in the order even startling DiNozzo. He patted Gibbs on the face and as he did so, he saw his eyelids flutter.

"Come on, Marine, on your feet," Mike ordered. Gibbs looked bleary eyed at his friend. Mike could see that he wasn't focusing on him. The bluish tinge on Gibbs' lips and his fingernails gave Mike great cause for concern. He knew that the water wasn't that cold. Gibbs' shortness of breath made Franks realise that his friend was in respiratory distress. Out here, that wasn't good. He put his body behind Gibbs and pushed him to his feet. The two men fell unceremoniously onto the dive platform of the Jolita. Both of them lay there for a while, trying to catch their breaths.

Gibbs was sure he was dying. His heart was pounding in his chest so hard and fast, it hurt. Every breath he took seemed to provide him with less and less oxygen. He couldn't think straight and his mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. As he lay there gasping for breath, the rising moon appeared to be dancing in the sky. His mind urged him to get up, but his body refused to comply. Someone needed help, but he couldn't remember who. He lay on his side and was mesmerised by the sea lapping against the hull of the boat. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds until they turned into voices, familiar, comforting voices.

Franks turned his eyes to Gibbs, who lay close to him. He could hear his constant struggle for breath, but he was helpless to do anything for him. He looked back up onto the deck of the boat and saw DiNozzo slumped on the seat where he had left him. He decided that Tony was the priority and went to him, leaving Gibbs apparently unconscious on the dive platform. He could see blood staining the clothing beneath Tony's life vest and running down his arm, dripping onto the deck. He had to get the vest off him to see what the damage was. As he was removing the vest, the associated pain woke DiNozzo again. He cried out as Franks pulled it over his injured side.

He then opened Tony's shirt to reveal a bullet hole just above his heart and below his shoulder. He couldn't be sure, but judging by the fact that DiNozzo wasn't coughing blood, he presumed that the lung was undamaged. The wound was bleeding heavily though. He leaned Tony forward slightly to check for an exit wound. There was none.

"Where's Gibbs?" Tony asked, weakly despite his own suffering.

"He's on the platform, sleeping it off. I have to stop this bleeding?" Franks explained.

"Is he okay?" Tony asked, his concern not abating.

"He's been better," Franks replied honestly, as he examined Tony's wound. "We're at least two days from Florida. That bullet will have to come out before then," Franks told him seriously.

"How bad is it?" Tony wondered.

"Well, I'm no doctor but it looks like it's missed everything vital and is lodged in your shoulder," Franks informed him.

"Can you get it out?" Tony asked bravely.

"I don't know. I might cause more damage if I try," Franks admitted.

"Okay, let's stop the bleeding and then get Gibbs below deck. I'm okay for now," Tony decided.

"Right," Franks replied. He stood up and hurried below deck. After a couple of minutes he re-emerged carrying towels, a first aid kit and a bottle of bourbon.

"Mike, what happened to the shooter?" Tony asked, realising that he had no recollection of much after being shot.

"He came a bit too close and I got him with your pistol," Mike told him.

"Was it Hernandez?"

"I think so," Mike replied, pressing a towel painfully over Tony's wound.

"Aargh!" Tony cried, as the pressure on his injured shoulder sent an explosion of pain shooting through him. He leaned on Franks, panting, fearing for a moment that he would pass out again.

"I can wrap it up for now and immobilise it," he said, lifting up the bottle of bourbon. "Some of this over it will help stave off infection," he told him. "It'll hurt like a son-of-a-bitch though."

Tony knew too well that it would, but he also knew that it would be a while before he got proper medical help and would have to make do.

"Okay, do it!" he said, already wincing at the prospect.

Mike unscrewed the cap, removed the towel and poured a small amount directly onto the bullet hole. Tony again cried out and was close to tears by the time he had finished. He was woozy and wasn't sure how much longer he could stay awake. Mike could see that the color had drained completely from the young agent's face.

"You lie down and rest while I check on your boss," he said, feeling sorry for the youngster. DiNozzo didn't argue and lay on his uninjured side on the seat.

Franks returned to the back of the boat, down the couple of steps onto the diving platform where Gibbs was still lying. He could see him shivering intermittently and knew he had to get him out of the wet clothes. He bent down and tried to help Gibbs sit up. He got very worried when Gibbs looked up at him with this vacant look in his eyes and said crossly;

"Sshhh!"

"What?" Franks asked, becoming puzzled.

"I can hear her," Gibbs replied vaguely.

"Who, Probie? There's no one else here," Franks pointed out, trying to get Gibbs to his feet. Gibbs struggled free, making it clear that he did not want his help.

"Shannon. I can't believe she came. It's so good to hear her voice again," Gibbs said, genuinely believing he could hear his dead wife talking to him.

Mike's heart sank when he realised that Gibbs was losing his grip on reality. This was not good. He started to wonder if he had been hit in the head and was suffering from a brain injury. He certainly wasn't making any sense any more.

"Come on, Probie. You're freezing," Mike said, reaching back on deck for another of the towels. He draped it over Gibbs shoulder and gently coaxed him to his feet. Gibbs turned to look at him and Franks saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"Mike, what are you doing here?" Gibbs asked with a puzzled look on his face. Mike's fears grew. His friend was acting so out of character, it scared him.

"I'm just here to help you inside," Mike said, helping Gibbs back on deck.

As he stepped on deck, Gibbs noticed Tony lying on the seat close by, and the bloody towel strapped to his shoulder and his blood-soaked shirt strewn on the deck.

"DiNozzo? What happened to Tony?" he asked desperately.

"He was shot. Don't you remember? You told me only a few minutes ago," Franks said, hoping to jog Gibbs' memory. Gibbs looked at his friend, his face painted with confusion.

"What's happening to me, Mike?" he asked in a moment of clarity.

"I don't know, Probie. You'll be fine once you get some rest," Mike said, taking Gibbs below deck. "We'll get you warmed up and you'll be fine," Mike repeated, as if trying to convince himself.

Mike had lived through many daunting and distressing times throughout his career, but he couldn't remember ever having been as scared as he was right now. They were miles from civilisation, with one man shot and another with what he suspected to be a brain injury. They needed help and fast. Their fate was in his hands.

A/N – I know all this Gibbs O/C stuff may be weird but arsenic poisoning can result in neurological issues, as well as several other symptoms, incl. vision, breathing difficulties, etc (according to the www). Hope it's not all too strange and makes sense.