"Abs, I need it now!"

Abby's face loomed in the small viewscreen in the front seat of Gibbs' Charger as her hands continued to type frantically on her keyboard in a tiny corner of the screen. "I know, Gibbs! Gimme a few minutes, I'm working on it! There's some kind of interference; I'm trying to clean up the signal now. Have you reached the target area yet?"

"Almost there now, Abs. I don't have a few minutes," Gibbs gritted, gunning the accelerator even more as he and Ziva flew down the highway. "Any word on McGee?"

"Ducky should be at Bethesda any time now. Timmy's stable and they've taken him up to surgery. They were clean shots, so the doctor said he should be fine; they have to clean them out and repair some tendon damage. Okay, I've got you getting close to the exit. When you hit Dumfries, you want 234 towards Independence Hill or Brentsville. You'll see a sign for Prince William Forest Park."

Gibbs' foot flattened to the floor as he hit the offramp, nearly throwing Ziva into his lap. "The damn bone yard!"

Ziva didn't flinch as the Charger roared onto the smaller highway, swerving around vehicles and rattling up the breakdown lane. Skidding off onto an access road towards the park, Gibbs barely controlled the powerful car as its right two wheels briefly left the asphalt.

"Call Fornell, see if he has his men in the area yet."

After briefly speaking on the phone, Ziva reported, "He has five units from Quantico waiting for the coordinates; they're at the south entrance to the park. Another unit has the bone yard under surveillance."

"Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs! I've got him!"

"Coordinates, Abby!"

"Okay. There's a house with property abutting the park – he's in a room on the north side of the house. I have Ashton trying to get a satellite feed. The coordinates are on your screen and I sent them to Ziva and Fornell's PDAs, since you are so totally clueless with yours…"

"Thanks, Abs."

"Just get him home safe, Bossman."

"I will, Abs."

Following Ziva's directions, Gibbs quickly reached the property to find over a dozen FBI agents already stealthily converging on the house. He and Ziva jumped out to join them, carefully edging along the driveway towards the cover of the garage. A shot rang out inside the house and then another followed a short while later by a third. With one team at the front and another at the side door, the agents surged into the house with guns drawn, efficiently clearing each room as they ran onto the next.

Gibbs listened intently for any signs of life between the repeated shouts of "Clear!"

The house appeared lived in but deserted.

Abandoned.

Dead.

Until, "In here!"

His heart pounding in his chest, Gibbs raced into the room, quickly shadowing the FBI agents in pivoting his gun towards a wide-eyed, blood-spattered figure crouched in a corner with his gun pointed at them. Realizing who it was, he immediately reholstered his Sig as he allowed his eyes to quickly scan the rest of the gory scene.

Salvatore Zaccharia lay dead against the wall, his face frozen in shocked betrayal. An accomplice sprawled nearby, his body tumbled half on the couch, obviously dead as well. Naked except for his collar with a length of thick chain padlocked to it and covered by a kaleidoscope of bruises and welts, Tony sat unblinkingly on the floor, his back against the wall, his knees drawn halfway up, his gun snapping in the direction of any movement.

"Put your guns away and get the hell out of here," Gibbs ordered the FBI agents.

"Can't do that," one of the men tersely replied.

"Yes, you can," Fornell casually appeared to lean on the door frame, out of sight of Tony. "Process the rest of the house; I'll let you know when this room is clear." He jerked his head towards the next room to encourage the agents to leave. Tobias then measured Gibbs thoughtfully. "Jethro, you all set?"

Not taking his eyes from Tony, Gibbs nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Tobias."

"I'll be right next door if anything comes up."

The lead agent nodded absently as he slowly approached his agent. "Tony? You with me, DiNozzo?"

The gun swung from the door to him again as Tony's unblinking eyes stared uncomprehendingly in his Boss' direction. Gibbs eased closer, trying to exude reassurance and authority. He watched Tony's nostrils flare, his chest heave, as he took one choppy breath after another.

"Tony, it's Gibbs. Your boss."

The panicked gaze wavered. He blinked once.

"Tony… Come on, Honeybuns."

The odd nickname tugged at a memory.

Tony sniffed the faint scent of coffee and sawdust. His unfocused eyes widened imperceptibly in recognition. "Boss?" The raspy voice was small. Lost.

"I'm right here, Tony. I've got your six."

The gauzy tunnel of his vision widened – cleared, until Gibbs' face came into focus. Green eyes locked with blue. Devastation sought sanctuary. The gun shook, then fell from suddenly nerveless hands. The scents of sawdust, coffee, blood, sweat, smoke and gunpowder all comingled to hang in the air around the two men, causing images to flash in a kaleidoscope of memories. Gibbs saw Tony's eyes abruptly flash wide with recollection before his lids suddenly grew heavy as his adrenaline surge rapidly plummeted. Protectively drawing his knees up and feebly hugging them to his chest, Tony listed to one side but his boss was there to catch him, kneeling next to him to take his weight and hold him close.

"He's dead?" was muffled into his shirt.

Gibbs snorted, pausing a beat to smooth Tony's shoulder when he suddenly tensed. "Yeah, he's dead."

Leaning further against him, Tony nodded against his chest. "McGee and Gerald?"

"They're both safe. Tim's at Bethesda but they said he'll be fine. No major damage. You did good, Tony." He felt the strained smile as he gently ruffled the soft, golden brown hair. "Here, lemme see you." Fumbling for a handkerchief, Gibbs daubed it on his tongue to wet it before gently wiping away the blood from Tony's face.

Tony looked from the hanky to his Boss as reminiscences stirred – another familiar action which tugged at him.

A rooftop.

A gunshot.

A sudden loss.

He sagged, boneless, in Gibbs' arms. "'m tired, Boss."

Gibbs looked over his agent's bowed head to nod to Fornell. He had heard the paramedics rattle into the next room a short time ago. "Rest. We're gonna get you to Bethesda to get checked out and see Tim. You ready?"

"M-hunh. Stay with me?"

"Where do ya think I'm gonna go?" Gibbs asked brusquely, earning an unsteady look.

"Always on my six…" His fragile hold on consciousness slipping, Tony slumped lifelessly into Gibbs' arms.

Noticing Tony's joined wrists, Gibbs cut the zip tie between the two cuffs with his knife before reluctantly slipping out of the way to stand next to Fornell as the paramedics swooped in. They gingerly slid Tony the rest of the way to the floor and rolled him over to examine his back. Gibbs' heart fell when he saw the fresh welts covering Tony's still recovering back. He looked down to his own hands, finding far too much blood there. With Tobias standing at his side, Gibbs watched with hands tightly clenched as the paramedics stabilized Tony for transport.

As they raised the gurney to wheel it outside, Gibbs stepped to Tony's side. "He needs to go to Bethesda," he informed them tersely.

"There are several closer, Agent," the paramedic cautioned.

"He's a damn Plague survivor – he needs specialized care. He's going to Bethesda!"

The paramedic's eyes widened as he nervously glanced at his patient. Blood was slowly seeping through the packing they had applied to Tony's back, staining the blanket a darker shade of red.

"Okay, Bethesda it is. Who's his specialist there, so we can conference him in on the bus?"

"Ask for Brad Pitt." Gibbs' eyes narrowed at the sign of hesitation. "Don't argue with me… Just ask for Brad!"

The paramedic exchanged a look of disbelief with his partner before pushing the gurney towards the door.

"Get going, Jethro," Fornell urged Gibbs. "I'll wrap everything up here."

Gibbs sympathetically clapped Fornell on the shoulder. "I'm sorry about your men, Tobias."

"Yeah. Me, too. They were good men." He bowed his head with a sigh. "You'd better get going. I'll clean things up here."

"Thanks. I'll check in with you later."

As he surveyed the grisly scene once more, Tobias added, "Let me know how your boys are doing when you get a chance." When he turned around, Gibbs was already outside the house, climbing into the ambulance with Tony.

000

Tim McGee woke to the clatter of a bed being pushed into his room, opening his eyes just in time to see a large number of scrub clad people scurrying alongside the bed in a sea of pastels to partially disappear behind the adjoining curtain. He had awoken from surgery a few hours earlier to find his sister, Sarah, nervously holding his hand with Ducky placidly watching over him. Tim had managed to stay awake only as long as it took him to reassure his sister he was fine and he wished for her to be sure to get to her late afternoon classes and then pry the news from Ducky that Tony was on his way to Bethesda alive but injured before allowing himself to once again drift off into drugged oblivion.

With the hushed hubbub behind the curtain in the background, Tim glanced around, disappointed to find Ducky wasn't there anymore. The shadows in the room suggested Sarah's absence might be due to her taking his advice and going to her classes after all. Tim lay quietly. The pain medications were doing a good job keeping him mellow and relatively comfortable so long as he didn't move too much. He tried to stay awake, hoping Ducky or someone would return soon to give him an update on Tony.

After the patient had been efficiently transferred to the bed, the large mob of medical personnel flitted around the bed, initializing monitors, taking vitals and giving rounds to the unit's team.

While he wrote on the chart, one of the doctors stepped away from the small crowd to check on the room's other occupant. "How're ya feeling, Tim?" Brad Pitt asked with a grin. "I thought you might like some company."

Tim tried to peek into the next bed without straining any stitches, but the patient was still surrounded by nurses and technicians, their silhouettes drifting back and forth behind the thin fabric. "That's Tony? Is he okay?"

Brad shrugged. "He will be. In some ways, we're back to square one with his back. His skin was so friable the beating tore pretty deep into the muscles. He may be looking at some skin grafts depending on how it heals. We sutured it all up and now all we can do is wait and encourage the best atmosphere for healing. He should probably be in ICU for a couple days, but I figured I could commit Emma and myself to a few shifts with him here instead of there as long as he needs more personalized care since our schedules are pretty clear, so he can benefit from you guys being around as much as possible."

"Where's Gibbs?"

"Where do ya think?" the agent asked as he strolled in with a cardboard carrier filled with cups of his favorite brew, obviously prepared for a long visit.

McGee's eyes brightened until he realized he'd be living non-stop with Gibbs and Tony for the next few days. Paling even further, he sank back into the bedding, suddenly feeling a little nauseous.

"Timmy!!!" Abby squealed as she dashed into the room dragging Ducky along by the elbow. Her boots made a loud clunk-clunk-clunk on the hard linoleum. Abby latched onto McGee's good arm in an awkward imitation of her usual crushing squeeze.

McGee flinched before allowing the Goth to carefully hug him.

"I got out of work as soon as I could but Major Mass Spec was having fits and Balboa needed results ASAP and I was, like, going nuts staying there and Balboa's probie forgot to bring me my Caf-Pow! Gibbs promised and—"

"Abigail, my dear, settle down," Ducky chuckled. "Your timing worked out well. Timothy has been asleep all afternoon and Anthony just arrived from surgery."

Abby flashed huge puppy dog eyes at the men around her. She looked over at Tim. "You sure?"

"Just woke up when Brad's herd of elephants arrived," McGee admitted sleepily. His eyes were already beginning to droop again.

Grinning, Brad shrugged unapologetically as he wandered over to draw the curtain open the rest of the way, allowing more light into McGee's side of the room and providing everyone an unobstructed view of Tony. Tony was draped over a long cushion, lying more on his stomach than his left side. A cannula was firmly fitted to his nose and numerous tubes and wires crawled out from under the sheet to wend their way to various machines. A small frame surrounded Tony's torso and it was this the sheet was pulled over and then laid to rest on his bare shoulders.

Gibbs drifted to the other bed, pulled the bed tray over and put his coffees on it. He tipped to look at Tony's grey face for a long moment then received an optimistic word from Brad before turning back to McGee. Gibbs frowned at the Goth. "Abs, if ya don't stop jigglin' him, he's gonna curdle."

With a pout, Abby slipped one arm behind Tim's neck and snuggled close while McGee smiled in gratitude.

"Thanks, Boss… and, Abs…" He eyed her cautiously but found, as usual, she hadn't taken offense.

One of Tony's monitors began beeping insistently, sending Brad and Gibbs scurrying to his side. A nurse raced from the room as the team watched anxiously, returning just moments later with a vial and syringe. Tony's body shook with erratic hiccupped shudders as the doctor drew up some medication and injected it into one of his IV ports. With a nod from Brad, Gibbs gripped one of Tony's hands as the tension drained out of his body and his breathing stabilized.

When both Gibbs and Brad continued to silently watch Tony without comment for several long minutes, McGee asked anxiously, "Is Tony okay?"

"'m fine, ..Probie," shakily drifted from the still form in the other bed. Tony's eyes opened to half-mast to roll towards his and Gibbs' joined hands then up towards his mentor in question.

Gibbs tilted his head and gave Tony's hand a squeeze in reply, smiling when Tony blinked contentedly.

McGee nodded in relief then, his eyes widening, he looked to Abby and Gibbs for confirmation. "He called me Probie."

"Been calling you that….since we brought you up….from….Norfolk, McGoo," Tony rasped unevenly. His eyes slid shut again in exhaustion as he finally succumbed to the medication coursing through his veins.

The room buzzed with excitement as everyone came to the same realization even as Tony blissfully slept through it all.

Abby bounced animatedly, jostling McGee to the point Ducky had to intervene. Standing up, she hugged the elderly coroner until he was breathless. "He remembers!"

"Yes, Abigail," Ducky strained to say. "Now, let an old man breathe!"

"Oh, sorry, Ducky!" She squeezed him again for good measure then, her hands fluttering excitedly, latched onto Gibbs, burying her head in his shoulder. "Gibbs, did you know he was our Tony again?"

"Never stopped, Abs."

"You know what I mean!"

"Thought I saw a flash of something back at the scene, but couldn't be sure until now," Gibbs admitted.

"Boss, now that he's remembering, do you think he'll be able to be an agent again?" McGee asked hopefully.

Gibbs' eyes flashed censure at McGee despite being confident Tony was no longer conscious. "I haven't been keeping a seat free for nothing, Tim."

"Yeah, but…" McGee shifted uncomfortably, backpedaling as he realized just how much the medication had loosened his tongue. "After everything he's been through…"

"Timmy, how could you even suggest that?" Abby demanded as she squeezed even harder against Gibbs. "Tony's coming back – end of discussion!"

Gibbs placidly advised, "Tim, you have to stop seeing him as a victim and start seeing him as a survivor."

"Amen to that," Ducky intoned with a pat on McGee's uninjured leg.

Shifting his weight so he could look at his partner, McGee doubtfully considered the injured man next to him. Even faced with Gibbs' unwavering belief in Tony, he couldn't help the niggling doubt which had taken up residence the day he first disappeared. As sleep eventually reclaimed him, Tim wondered if Gibbs' belief was enough.