Tony stood in the silence of the empty yard and watched as the first rays of dawn flickered over the horizon. He tried to remember the first impressions he'd formed of the property nearly twenty-four hours earlier and found that he couldn't. Even with the beginnings of a bright summer morning, the miasma of death and violence hunkered over the house. A shudder stole through him and he wondered if the bomb slumbering in its depths wasn't Hell's way of trying to reclaim its own, after all.

He shook his head and turned to enter the last remaining vehicle, an NCIS pool sedan he'd checked out for Gibbs yesterday. The bomb squad left, with grand plans of coming back to disarm everything. Tony had then sent Owens' team back to HQ with both trucks packed full of the evidence. Shales had seemed surprised that he didn't want to go with them. He had fallen back on the excuse about getting the car back, but the truth was he just needed to be away from all of this. He'd called Abby and brought her up to speed. She, in turn, had given him Gibbs' and Kate's conditions, which were cautiously optimistic. Tony smiled as he drove towards home, remembering how the sound of her voice had soothed that part of his soul that the night had wounded, hoping that his had done the same for her. He told her not to expect him in the office, he was going home and then to the hospital. The people that needed him, and that he needed, did not reside in cubicles today.

Ducky peeked into the darkened room to find a sleeping Caitlin. He smiled and turned to go, but was stopped by a drowsy voice.

Ducky? What time is it? Without thinking, Kate tried to stretch and was sharply reminded of her injury.

Good morning, my dear. It's around 10:30. How are you doing? The doctor moved over to her bedside and smiled down at her.

Kate gave him a half-smile and said, I suppose it's getting better. It doesn't feel awful all the time, but it looks pretty awful. Are you sure this is going to heal up in a week?

Let me take a look. Ducky carefully peered at the cracked and blistered skin on her upper chest. Well, it certainly is a nasty case, I'll grant you that. Do you have any allergies?

Just a couple, she replied and listed them.

That shouldn't make any difference in this case, but I can give you a different prescription. It will definitely help, but it might sting a little when you first put it on. At any rate, this isn't permanent. It's simply an irritation to the upper layers of the dermis. Now there was this one case of severe dermatitis I treated that was particularly nasty...

Kate interrupted, normally I'd be fascinated. Really. But I have to admit to being a little oversensitive to the topic right now.

Ah, yes. Perfectly understandable. Noise from the doorway caught his attention. Both he and Kate watched the gurney bearing Gibbs being wheeled back in. Ducky patted her hand fondly as he excused himself

Pardon me, my dear. I shall see to your new prescription straight away. Rest some. And let Gibbs rest a while too, eh? He made his way around the curtain. Try as she might, Kate couldn't hear a thing from the other side.

Ducky watched as Laurel finished getting his friend settled. The tall blonde smiled down at him before she left, and he moved to the bedside in her place. Jethro turned his head and glared up at him.

Was that necessary? Blue eyes glittered with irritation.

It all depends. Did you want me to check you out thoroughly or leave you in the hospital an extra week? Ducky made the words mild and unthreatening.

Gibbs just looked at his old friend. He wanted to be angry; he had not enjoyed the procedure at all. But if the results could spare him any time in the hospital, then he knew he would be grateful. Refusing to express either emotion, he simply looked away.

Taking the victory, Ducky permitted a small smile to grace his lips and asked, How did you sleep last night?

Fine, I think. Was there a nightmare in there somewhere? Kate and I talked this morning, and I could vaguely recall it. And a conversation with you.

Yes. Unfortunately, I prescribed your analgesic before I read through your tox screen from Abby. I had assumed after our first conversation that you had had much less exposure to the pesticide than we first thought. You did indeed limit your exposure, but you had more that I anticipated. I'm afraid the pain relievers only set you up for the nightmares. Those are an odd little side effect of pesticide poisoning that doesn't often show up.

Gibbs listened to all of this carefully. How bad is this? Is it something that will clear up, like Kate's skin? Or am I stuck with it?

The good news is, the toxin levels in your blood are dropping, exactly along a predictable curve. As for anything else, I want to take a look at the CT scan results. I don't like the complaints of abdominal pain. Laurel told me you vomited this morning and that there was blood in it. They may be unrelated problems, but I can't ignore anything at this point.

Gibbs fumed as he remembered how neatly he'd been outmaneuvered earlier when he tried to dispose of the incriminating evidence just mentioned by the coroner.

Ducky saw the near petulant look on the ex-Marine's face and struggled not to laugh. Until I give you a Bill of Health so clean you can eat off of it, there you stay. He jabbed his finger towards the bed with the last three words in emphasis.

Less than twenty-four hours in a hospital bed and Gibbs was already as grumpy as a bored two-year-old. Worse, he had a nurse who could probably strong arm him into anything Ducky ordered. In a low, menacing voice he finally managed to growl out, Yes, doctor.