Gibbs
Feeling something, unsure of what it was, putting pressure against his chest, Jethro remains completely still The pressure was so intense he could barely breath right now. He gasps for air lightly in the silence. He could hear the man speak and feel him slipping away from him, leaving Jethro face down against a pile of leaves. His body felt like it was paralyzed as if each effort for his lungs to expand to take a breath, each bit of movement his heart made to let the blood flow through it made it feel like he was running on a treadmill at top speed in the arctic. As if in slow motion Jethro moves his arm out from under himself. He could hear the commotion around him, but it was all muffled like someone had covered his ears and face so he couldn't hear. He heard something about an old man and then heard the sound of what sounded like gun fire. Then just like having his ears unplugged and a radio blaring into his ears, the sounds came back to him. The loud pounding of his heart and the sounds of the wind were so clear to him right now.
The numbness seemed to stay though for a little while trying to breath. He heard McGee speak to him but right now he couldn't reply. Why was the question. He was fully aware of everything around him, but he just couldn't react at the moment. The only movement he seemed to have right now was his arm that was slowly making it's way out from under himself. He could hear the foot steps, loud ones as if someone wasn't trying to stay hidden or surprise them with an attack. He had to pull it together and do something. McGee was right beside him, he knew it and could feel it. He turns his head to the side a bit, bloodied and battered. His nose was clearly broken, lips split and eyes nearly swollen shut. His head was bleeding from the bullet graze and the several blows to it. His vision was extremely blurred at the moment and he could barely make out that it was in fact McGee beside him like he had thought.
"Tim..." The name barely slipped from his lips replying back to the boy that he was alive, but he feared he was too late. He had failed him. He musters up what strength he had left from the battle and pushes himself up. The effort was nearly enough to make him keel over and just let the darkness consume him, but he fought it. He would not give in. Not when the thereat was still out there. He didn't know who was coming near, he had no clue if it was friend or foe and with how the night had been going it was more likely to be foe.
Pushing himself up onto his knees, Jethro nearly loses grip and buckles feeling his leg sting like it was being torn off him. He glances down seeing the blood dripping out once again. The struggle had reopened his wound. He didn't notice that his hand was on his chest at the moment. He could still feel that pressure causing him to feel like a hippo was sitting on him still. His side was bruised but the mud covered it. He had scrapes and cuts all over his body from branches, kicks, hits and the fall. But what bothered him the most was his chest. Now standing upright like some beast who had won the fight, Jethro holds his gun in hand. Moving his fingers on his chest he could feel something cold, colder than his own skin right now mixed with the heat of something soft and warm. Moving his hand he looks at it seeing blood then he realized what that pressure was. A knife, long Marine issue was sticking out of his bare chest. His own, they had tried to kill him with his own knife.
Had it been any other person they would be freaking out right now. Not Jethro. As if he had just lost the rest of his marbles he chuckles cocking the gun making sure there was a bullet in the chamber. The irony of it all, the knife, the fight all of it was getting to him. He turns around about to fire a kill shot or be killed when he comes face to face with someone he did not expect to see.
"Woah there boss....McGee....stop shooting at me! I come in pea...." Tony said no more when he saw the condition they both were in. He wasn't sure who to go to first. Big Marine man standing all muddy and bloody with a look on his face only Jack the Ripper would be pleased with… or the poor, innocent, battered, half dead man… or dead, he wasn't sure, laying on the ground. He quickly made his call and slides down onto the ground beside McGee. 'Oh man...what did they do to you Probie...?"
"I thought I was the probie now Tony." Ziva's voice could be heard coming out of the brush off to the side.
"Yeah well...I think that should be left aside right now." Tony puts a hand on McGee's neck to feel for a pulse… he looked dead to him right now. Ziva goes to Jethro's side and takes the gun from his hand looking at the knife with fear in her eyes. "Gibbs, Gibbs what the hell happened here."
"I'll explain later." Jethro replies calm as a cucumber as if nothing was wrong with him. His breath was labored, nearly a wheeze. Even if his leg was killing him and each breath felt like his lungs were being torn to shreds his own well being was the least of his concerns. He places a hand against the tree looking over at McGee. "You brought back up right?"
"Ummmm...." Tony and Ziva glanced at each other… knowing Gibbs would not like the answer.
"Umm is not what I want to hear right now."
Ziva sighed, "Vance wouldn't give in, he said it wasn't necessary to send a full blown team out after you until he got confirmation that it was safe enough. His plan was to wait for morning."
"Yeah, wait and we would have been too late, if we aren't already." Tony barely says his last words. Jethro moves away from the tree his leg finally buckling out from under him. Ziva went to help him, but her efforts were stopped by a quick look from him. "I don't need help, he does."
"I think that knife says other wise...boss." Ziva adds in his title so she wouldn't get angry.
Getting out his cell, Tony felt responsible for most of this in many ways. He calls in for a med evac., giving their location. It wasn't long and the helicopter could be heard. Jethro sits back against the tree after accepting the jacket from Tony. Both Ziva and Tony were not sure what to do right now. Both looked like they were on borrowed time and McGee… well he looked like he could die at any second. Jethro, he refused to move any further away from McGee and he refused any help. Even if he had blood seeping out of his nose and mouth right now. He didn't care, all he worried about was McGee right now. He takes the boys hand in his ice cold bloody one for a moment and uses the last bit of his strength to lean over and whisper to him.
"You were given and order Timothy and you damn well want to obey it." He didn't know if he could hear him or not, but be damned he would let him slip away like this. And not for information or evidence for the case. McGee's life was more important to him than any case… any job or even his own life and he had proven that.
The helicopter lands off in a clearing and the medics come rushing out. First the try to attend to Jethro but a weak glare sent them to McGee where they started their work on him. Another comes to Jethro more concerned about the knife than anything else. Even though Jethro didn't seem to be complaining about any of it. He refused to be put on any stretcher but did accept a bit of help to his feet and to the helicopter. It took all he had and all his dignity to actually make it to the helicopter without keeling over. By the time McGee and Jethro were loaded on and the machine started to take off the back up that Vance finally sent was just making it into the area where Ziva and Tony stood watching their friends being taken away. Their fate was uncertain for both of them. With a worried glance between the two, Ziva and Tony start there way back out of the woods. This mess would be taken care of (the dead people and all that) by the men and women now in the woods.