Chapter Three

Tony slept through the night, which meant Gibbs did too. It wasn't the first time the team leader had sacked out on his senior agent's sofa and it was unlikely to be the last, so Gibbs was grateful that Tony had a fondness for expensive and comfortable furniture.

As soon as he awoke Gibbs rose and went to check on Tony. He smiled when he saw that he had hardly moved from his position of the night before. Gibbs stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching Tony sleep. He remembered the burning anxiety he had felt the day before when he had thought Tony was seriously ill. At least it wasn't that, he thought gratefully, but Tony's hesitant, shamefaced confession of his self doubt had touched Gibbs deeply and left him troubled by a niggling, inexplicable sense of guilt.

Gibbs had retrieved his Go Bag from the car the night before and after a quick shower he changed into a clean set of clothes, all the while listening for any sound from the bedroom.

Finally Tony stirred, and Gibbs moved.

"I told you to call me," he growled on finding Tony sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You didn't give me much of a chance Boss."

Gibbs grunted. "How are you feeling?"

Tony glanced up at him. "Bit stiff and sore. Ducky said I would be today, so..." He shrugged and went to stand.

Gibbs quickly put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently back down on to the bed. He picked up the vial from the nightstand, shook out two pills and handed them to Tony. The young man hesitated for a second before swallowing them. In a quiet movement, Gibbs slipped the tube of ointment into his pocket.

Then Gibbs reached out his arms. Tony grasped them and rose slowly to standing, letting out a creaky groan as he did so.

When he was eye to eye with Gibbs, he managed a wobbly smile, and said, "See? Fine. Now shower."

Gibbs shook his head at the predicability of his senior agent and released him. "Can you make it on your own?" Tony's face had more colour than yesterday, but Gibbs stayed close.

Tony nodded. "Just gotta get moving." He began shuffling in the direction of the bathroom, Gibbs watching every step. By the time he reached the door he was moving a little more loosely, and he shot Gibbs a quick grin over his shoulder. "See?"

"You're off today, you know that?" Gibbs reminded him.

Tony nodded and rolled his eyes.

When he entered kitchen dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, his feet bare, Tony was moving more easily. He sat at the table and poured out a large bowl of cereal.

Gibbs hadn't finished. "And you're on desk duty till the end of the week."

Tony stopped, his mouth full of Cap'n Crunch. He swallowed and grimaced. "Boss..."

"Don't even try it, Tony. Ducky's orders. And I saw your back. I'm not having you out in the field until it looks a hell of a lot better than it did last night."

Tony turned big, pleading eyes on Gibbs. Gibbs countered with icy glare of death and the contest ended in seconds.

Losing some bone marrow clearly hasn't affected his appetite, Gibbs thought wryly as Tony inhaled the bowl of cereal. Gibbs finished his coffee and stood. Turning his back, he placed the coffee mug in the sink and threw a question casually over his shoulder.

"You, ah, need more of that... that ointment on your back?"

Tony paused, a spoonful of cereal held up to his mouth.

Gibbs turned back and looked at him, face blank. "Well?"

"You don't have to, Boss."

"Ducky said you need it."

Tony swallowed the last mouthful of cereal and nodded. He stood.

"Lie down," Gibbs instructed, tipping his head toward the living room.

Tony did as instructed, and Gibbs perched on the edge of the sofa beside him. He carefully raised Tony's t-shirt and frowned again at the sight. The bruises were still deep and dark radiating out from the puncture marks. Gibbs pulled the ointment from his pocket, flipped the cap and squeezed a generous dollop on to his fingers. He began applying it as he had the night before, moving in slow, gentle circles over the worst of the bruising.

And he waited.

Finally Tony spoke.

"I asked Ducky how long it would take before they knew if it had worked."

Gibbs didn't need to ask who "they" were. He remained silent.

Tony continued. "He said 2 to 4 weeks. She would've got the transplant pretty soon after they took the cells from me."

He sighed and shifted a little beneath Gibb's hand before continuing.

"If the transplant works, her blood counts will improve over the next two weeks. If it works."

"Then what?" Gibbs asked quietly, not allowing the alternative.

"She'll have to be careful of infection for a few months, stay away from crowds and that sort of thing. But she'll be back to normal in about six to eight months. If it works."

Gibbs' hand was still moving in slow circles. Unlike the night before, the tension in the muscles beneath his fingers did not abate. Clearly Ducky's magic pills weren't going to put Tony under after a full night's sleep. Tony's skin was warming as the ointment was absorbed and Gibbs squeezed another generous dollop onto his fingers

"So two weeks huh?" he asked quietly, resuming his gentle ministrations.

"Two to four." Tony sighed heavily. He lay with his head facing Gibbs.

"Uh huh," was Gibbs' only reply.

"Hospital Transplant Centre will notify me of the outcome."

"Uh huh."

There was a moment of silence, and Gibbs felt Tony draw a deep breath.

"You mean what you said last night? That it might be ... you know, okay?"

"Yep."

"You weren't just being nice? You really meant it?"

Gibbs' hand didn't stop moving. "You ever known me to say something just to be"nice", Tony?"

"No, Boss."

"So?"

"You meant it."

Gibbs finished applying the ointment. He wiped his fingers on a handkerchief and put the ointment on the coffee table. Then he leaned forwards slightly to look Tony directly in the face.

"There are no guarantees, Tony," he said quietly. "She'd be a very sick little girl at the moment, and while you might be a good match, you're not a family member. But if you can't save her, then no-one could have. You're giving her the best shot possible. And that's a damn fine thing."

Gibbs stood.

"I want you back on full duty next week," he stated firmly, "and that means Ducky has to clear you. So rest."

Tony gave a lying down nod, and shot Gibbs a small smile.

"Thanks Boss."