The first thing Tony was aware of was the pain. It was like a living thing, clawing at his body, stealing away his breath. It would be so easy to sink back into the blackness. Into that place where there had been no pain, no worries, no coldness. It beckoned to him seductively, pulling at him to escape from the misery of his body.

But Tony had never been a quitter. Somehow surrendering to the darkness would be quitting and he fought against it. He concentrated on the pain, on pushing it back to a bearable level. One breath, two, and the pain receded enough so that he could actually think.

At last he was able to open his eyes. For one frightening instant all he saw was black, but then his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he realized that he was lying partially under a bush. It was blocking his view. Which begged the question – What was he doing lying under a bush, badly wounded judging from the way he felt?

He shivered and clutched the jacket that was laying over him. Jacket? Who's jacket was it? McGee had been with him, dimly he thought he remembered that. They'd been on their way… to question a witness. He was talking to Nancy and the car… God, it hurt to think. The car had shuddered. Something had happened to the SUV, a tire had blew.

No, that was wrong. He'd trained in driving in hazardous conditions, and it had felt more than anything else like someone had shot out his tire, maybe two judging from how badly he'd lost control of the vehicle.

Pushing himself up, the world tilted and whirled around him. He swallowed convulsively against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him, the bile rising up his throat. It would be so easy to just lay back down and sink back into the darkness that was clawing at the edges of his vision. Instead he concentrated on breathing until the world around him settled.

They'd been ambushed, he was certain of it. Were they supposed to survive the crash? There were more questions than answers, and no one to answer them. He cast about for McGee. He should be there, somewhere. Didn't he remember McGee pulling him from the SUV? Where was he?

Tony could see the SUV from where he sat. It was well and truly toast, a smoking mass of metal. Could they take that out of his salary? He decided he had way too much to worry about already, he'd shelve that problem until later.

Where was McGee, that was the immediate problem. Shouldn't he be fussing in typical McGee fashion. Tony shivered again and pulled the jacket tighter. If he had McGee's jacket where was McGee?

Scanning the area desperately, there was no sign of the other man. Then, there was a low moan in the darkness and Tony realized that a lump a few feet from his feet was McGee. Had he been injured in the crash, too?

It was hellishly painful, but Tony managed to pull himself to sit beside the other man. With relief he felt the pulse at McGee's throat, steady and strong. "Probie," he shook the other man.

McGee stirred, pushing his hand away, "Mom, come on, let me sleep five more minutes," he muttered before shifting away restlessly.

"Sorry, Probie, wish I could." He shook him again, "Come on, McGee, wake up."

This time McGee's eyes opened, peering up at Tony in confusion, "Tony?"

"Right the first time, Probie. You really have been working on your observational skills. Are you injured?"

McGee's gaze turned inward, taking stock of his condition, "No, I think I'm alright." He squinted around at their surroundings, "Tony, what happened?"

"I was actually hoping you could tell me, Probie. Can you get up?" Tony's instincts were starting to kick in, telling him they needed to move. It was crazy he knew. But he'd learned to trust his instincts the hard way.

"Get up? Sure," he blinked up at Tony, but didn't move.

"Well, Probie?" It was frustrating just sitting there not able to do anything for himself. McGee was frustrating him, but he worked on holding onto his control It wouldn't do either of them any good if he lost it.

"Well?" McGee parroted back at him.

"Geeze, Probie. Are you sure you're not concussed? I don't know if you've noticed, but we kind of need to get out of here. Get help."

"Get help? Oh," that seemed to get through to him. McGee sat. "Shouldn't we just call for help?"

"I don't know about you, Probie, but I don't seem to have a phone handy," Tony knew he was being harsh, but he was getting the feeling that they needed to be gone like yesterday.

"Phone?"

McGee just kept repeating his words and Tony wanted to scream at him. Doing his best to keep his voice calm and level, he answered. "I don't have a phone to call for help, McGee, do you?"

McGee shook his head, his gaze wandering to take in the crash site. "What happened?"

"God, McGee, we crashed. Would you get up!"

"Sure, Tony," he pushed himself to his feet. Seeing the car he whistled, "Did we do that?"

"Seems like, now, Probie, help me up."

McGee turned and extended a hand to help him up. His forehead puckered as he surveyed Tony's condition. "Should you move?"

"Don't think I have any choice, Probie." He held up a hand.

McGee grasped it, pulling Tony to his feet. Tony gasped at the sharp pain that knifed through his body. McGee braced him, holding him with an arm around his waist until he could breath again.

"Tony, let me leave you here. I'll climb up to the road and get help."

Tony shook his head, "No one uses this road, Probie." He took a halting step and McGee was forced to go with him. He took a firmer hold around Tony's waist to help anchor him.

"Tony, I don't understand. What's the hurry?"

Tony didn't even look back at the crash site as he set their course even with the road above their head. If he remembered correctly, it intersected with the main road again in a few miles. He just hoped he could make it that far. "Look at the evidence, Probie."

"Okay," McGee sounded like his faculties were clearing. "Our John Doe was dressed in a marine uniform?"

"Yes," It was all he could do to stay upright. His left leg was nearly useless and he put most of his weight on McGee.

"But his fingerprints weren't in the database, so he couldn't be a marine."

"Right again." Tony could almost hear his mind working. It irritated him sometimes how smart the other man was. But no matter how smart he was, McGee didn't have the instincts that Tony had, and they were screaming at him at the moment. They need to move and they needed to move fast.

But there was nothing else he could do, he couldn't move any faster. "Our tire was shot out, Probie. Someone planned this. Someone who might be coming to finish the job."

"But why?"

"I don't know, McGee, I just know we have to get out of here and get help. Soon."

Tony set himself and concentrated on moving forward without falling on his face.

"Okay." He could feel McGee pull him in tighter as they set out together into the cold night.

Thanks to everyone who's submitted reviews and comments, it means a lot that you would take the time to do that. The point about Gibbs knowing the types of Marine uniformswas absolutely correct, and I did know that. I just didn't conveyit in what I had written. Thanks for pointing it out, I've gone back and corrected that installment.

I do go back and edit previous installments as the story grows and changes (and as I find typos!). The major change so far is that Tony's little brother went from a nine year old to a fourteen year old.

If there are any major changes, I'll be sure to let you all know.