Gibbs


Wandering for what seemed like hours, Jethro finds a large uprooted tree. The base of it made a den like structure that looked like it was once used by a bear or another large mammal. Laying McGee down gently, Jethro lets out a slight grunt, his own muscles starting to get a tad bit sore. He hadn't had to do this kind of work in a very long time. But despite this he was more than ready and willing to do so, Jethro was not giving up on one of his team…no… not his team.. his family members.

"Hang on there Timothy..." He whispers to him taking off his jacket draping it over McGee, covering him tightly to prevent hypothermia and to try and comfort him. He picks up his rifle and does a look out around the perimeter of the little safety zone and finds that they were, luckily, alone. No sounds other than the sounds of the forest.

He looks up at the sky seeing the old storm clouds starting to cover the moon. He could feel it deep down in his bones that the rain and possibly snow was going to fall. Satisfied that he had found a safe spot for the night, Jethro gathers brush, moss, dry wood, bark and roots from varies plants before returning to McGee's side again. He sets everything down before moving to McGee and checking his pulse. He could feel how cold the man was. The injuries, he knew had to be attended to but right now he had to make sure he would survive the night, meaning he had to make shelter from the coming storm.

He covers McGee with some of the brush before grabbing a large arm load and getting up on the other side of the fallen tree. He hisses as he put more pressure on his leg. It stung more than anything right now. But he continues on like nothing was wrong. as if it were a kink in the muscle. He puts the brush so it hung over the edge of the large roots and sod so it made a canopy like structure. The rain and or snow wouldn't be able to get through it and what did wouldn't be much. Feeling the rain droplets start to fall, Jethro doesn't stop. He moves around the six foot area pulling up other roots and things placing some of the woods down around them making it so their little den would stay warm and dry.

Soon the rain starts to come down lightly, but he was finished with the shelter so crawls back down into the noel where he had stuffed McGee, under the huge roots, and places the fire wood into the center. He pulls out some paper, mostly his note pad and some old receipts, and lights them to get the fire started. Once it was starting to burn lightly, Jethro heard the rain start to come down even harder. Some droplets made it through the make shift root hissing against the fire, but not enough to put it out. Feeling the cold air against his flesh, Jethro didn't take his jacket back from the wounded man. No he left it on McGee for his safety and comfort… that was what was more important right now. He himself would come last. His breath plums above his head, hair and skin damp from the cold rain.

After a few moments he pulls off the jacket and starts to tend to McGee's wounds. He was no doctor that's for sure but he was certainly skilled at battle field patching up and this was damn close to that. Placing a hand on the man's forehead, Jethro shakes his head a bit swallowing hard at the sight of the battered man.

"Don't you give up Timothy, don't you dare give up." He orders him in a fatherly, determined tone. He only used his full name like that when he was concerned about him and protective. It had to mean something if, in fact, McGee could even hear his voice right now.