Alisa… thank you for your review. =) I am NOT a slash fan, but I do like Gibbs/Tony dad/son relationship, and that is what I tried to put in my story. Like I said previously, Tiva is not a huge part of the story, at least not for know. It's kind of just a side note because I wanted to see how it could pan out (I might eventually go more in depth, but for now… it's not a huge thing). Also, I wanted to give Tim more of a mother figure since he doesn't have that in his life anymore.
The next day, Tim's O2 stats had gone up a ton. All Tim wanted to do was get the stupid tube out of his mouth. Brad had come in, smiled and said if Tim's stats stayed like that for the next couple of hours, he would extubate him.
Gibbs hand had been splinted and wrapped. Brad was going to put a cast on it once the swelling went down.
Gibbs had decided not to tell Tony that Tim had to be intubated at the moment. He knew this would just cause Tony to be extremely upset and want to come see his son even more. So, Gibbs had sat with Tim the whole night, and when the boy would wake up and panic as the urge to breathe overcame him, Gibbs would gently soothe Tim and rub his head.
A few hours later, Ducky and Jimmy walked into the room. Jimmy carried a cup of coffee, and he handed it to Gibbs kindly. Gibbs gave a rare smile to his second surrogate son, "Thank you," he said.
Ducky looked at Tim who was sleeping again, albeit restlessly. "Oh, poor lad," said Ducky. "They had to intubate, Jethro?" the older man asked.
Gibbs nodded. "Dr. Pitt came in a little while ago though; he said Tim can probably get the tube out in a couple hours."
"Aah, yes. I assume his oxygen stats are looking better than before." Ducky stated as he studied the monitors attached to Tim's body. He patted the sleeping boy's hand softly. "It'll be okay, Timothy. You will be feeling better soon."
"Agent Gibbs!" Jimmy exclaimed as he noticed Gibbs' bulkily wrapped hand, "Whatever happened?"
"An encounter with the wall," Gibbs shrugged.
"You broke your hand!" Jimmy cried.
"And…?"
"Uhh, uhh," Jimmy stammered. "I d-don't know."
Gibbs smirked.
Back at Tony and Tim's apartment, Ziva was cooking breakfast for herself. Tony was still throwing up, and his fever was hovering around 101. He hadn't eaten anything the day before because he was too busy puking his guts up, so Ziva hadn't eaten much either. She was starving. Abby was going to come over to Tony's apartment with some Pepto Bismo. Ziva hoped it would help.
After Ziva ate, she walked back into Tony's bedroom where he was laying on the bed.
"Hey Zee," Tony greeted softly.
"Hello my little hairy butt," Ziva said jokingly.
Tony smiled at their inside joke. Once, in a moment of *cough* extreme infantile behavior, he had asked her to compare his and Jimmy's butts. Ziva had grinned and rated Jimmy butt a four, but Tony's only a three (out of five). Tony of course had gone off on a rant, but Ziva had later told him that she had taken off two points for excessive hair.
Tony's ruminations were interrupted by his stomach churning again. Jumping up, Tony ran to the bathroom and proceeded, yet again, to empty the contents into the sink. "Ooohhh," he moaned.
Ziva looked sympathetic, and after Tony brushed his teeth, she pet his face gently for a few moments.
"I need to call Gibbs," Tony said, as his head lay in Ziva's lap. "I need to know how Timmy's doing."
Ziva sighed. "I just called, Gibbs." She said. "Listen to everything I say, before you say anything, okay?"
Tony looked uneasy. "What's wrong?"
"Last night, Dr. Pitt had to put Tim on a ventilator because Tim's oxygen saturation levels dropped dramatically."
Tony sat up sharply and put his hand to his head as a wave of dizziness hit him.
"Stop it, Tony," Ziva said. "You promised to listen. Tim is doing much better today. They are going to remove the ventilator in a couple of hours. Gibbs is taking good care of him."
Tony lay slowly back down on the bed. "Damnit, Tim," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
Ziva looked sad to as she caressed her distressed boyfriend's cheek. "He is going to be okay, Tony. Really, he is."
Back at the hospital, Dr. Pitt stopped in to see how his favorite patient was doing again. "He's still sleeping?" Brad asked.
Gibbs affirmed. "Yeah. He woke up a couple times. Kinda freaked out."
"That's normal," Dr. Pitt replied. "The sensation of not being able to breathe is very overpowering when he first wakes up." Doctor Pitt removed the stethoscope from around his neck and placed it lightly on Tim's chest. "His stats are staying pretty stable, but I don't want to remove the ventilator just yet. Maybe around six or seven this evening. I'll put a cast on your hand then too."
Gibbs wrinkled his nose childishly. "My hand is fine."
Brad rolled his eyes. "I'm telling you. You NCIS people are the worst patients. None of the doctors here like taking care of any of you guys. They ask me how I can stand it…"
Gibbs cocked his head, contemplating the assessment of NCIS agents. Then he shook his head in agreement. "Yeah, I wonder too."
"Okay," Brad continued. "I'm actually going to head over to Tony's apartment and check on him. I will be back soon. If you need anything, you have my cell phone number, or talk to the nurse or Dr. Yabo."
"Tell Tony that I'm with Tim, and that I'm taking care of him. Tony needs constant reassurance." Gibbs said.
Tim's eyes opened at this point, and again he became agitated as his body became aware of the ventilator. Gibbs rushed over to his grandson and spoke calmingly. "Tim, shh. Hey buddy, you're in the hospital. The ventilator is helping you breathe. Just relax. It's okay. Yeah, that's it. Good job."
Dr. Pitt watched with admiration as Gibbs' even voice soothed Tim's anxiety. He would definitely tell Tony what an amazing job Gibbs was doing with Tim.