Chapter 3: Crisis

The tension in the car was palpable. Gibbs disconnected his cell and dropped it on the seat beside him. Shifting his position so that he could keep pressure on the wound, as he tried to ignore the cramp building in his hand from holding it at such an awkward angle. He scanned the surroundings analytically. "Abby says there's a delay on the paramedics," he stated, finally fixing his gaze on Kate. "So it's up to us."

Their gazes locked for the briefest of seconds, and a silent communication passed as they each tried to blank the emotion from their mind. Tony needed their help and he needed it now. There was no time to deal with the emotional baggage that came with this case, the turmoil of the last twenty-four hours, the current crisis. Concern, recriminations, responsibility, all of that would have to wait.

Gibbs broke eye contact to continue his scan. "We need to get him out of here," he stated.

Kate nodded; it agreed with her own assessment. Tony was clearly going into shock from the blood loss, and his mental state wasn't helping. They needed to get him lying on the ground, to try to keep his blood pressure up. It was a play off though. The very action that would keep blood flowing to his heart, to his brain, could also increase the rate at which he was losing blood. Still, they had little choice. She began to back out of the car. "I'll be right back," she stated, knowing that she did not have the strength to lift Tony alone, not from this angle, and Gibbs could only give her limited help whilst keeping pressure on the wound.

For all of Gibbs strength, for all of his training, for all of his trust that Kate would be back quickly with the necessary help, it did not stop the momentary panic as he was left alone in the car, holding the responsibility for Tony's life, quiet literally in his hand. It was an immeasurable length of time, the blink of an eye or the stretched slowness of an hour waiting for something important to happen. His skin went cold, his senses cut out, and his intestines tied themselves in random knots. He forced breath into his lungs against a reluctant weight, a feeling of helplessness enveloping him, and then, just as quickly as it had started, it was gone as he took control again. Tony was going to be all right. They would help him. He would be fine.

Anyone who knew Gibbs wouldn't believe that it could happen. Gibbs would never panic, not even for a moment. Had they been there, their position would have been reinforced, as there was little outward evidence that it happened at all. A muscle twitch in his jaw and a deeper than normal breath the only indications of the inner turmoil that had briefly gripped him. It was a weakness that he would never admit to; would analyse later, along with everything else that had happened in this case, but not now.

"Gibbs?" Tony's voice was getting weaker, breathy.

"I'm here Tony."

"The ambulance, how long?" He slurred the words slightly as he strained to hear the reply against the thundering in his ears. "Don't feel so good."

Gibbs was partly relieved by the question; it meant that Tony had picked up on at least part of his conversation with either Abby or Kate.

"Soon," Gibbs reassured, "Until then just take it easy. Don't try to move."

Tony didn't even try to give a nod, at that moment he was aware enough to realise how much that would hurt. He tried very hard to make sense of his surroundings, of how he had reached this point, how and why he was injured, but where the memories should have been there were only blank patches.

He knew that he was cold, ice cold. He verbalised the thought and was surprised by the response. Gibbs shrugged off his jacket, awkwardly because it seemed important to him to keep his hand on something, but Tony couldn't see what. It was too close to him to get a good look, besides he was too tired to really look. The coat was tucked around him, across his shoulders.

"Thanks," the word was barely formed. It took too much effort.

He tried to concentrate again on what he knew. He knew was that there was pain, his breathing wasn't normal, and the world refused to focus properly. He knew that Gibbs was there with him, being nice to him, that in itself told him that things were very wrong, and he was sure he'd heard Kate too.

"Kate?"

"It's OK she's getting help," Gibbs stated patiently. "We'll have you out of here soon."

Out of here. Where was here? Tony tried to force his eyes to focus, made out enough of the surrounding metal work to realise that he was in a vehicle of some sort. Had he been in a crash? Images of a motorbike in his path, of Jeffrey yanking the wheel across, of going face first into an airbag, assailed his senses. Yes, the prison break, and then the crash, and then running in chains and. . . Once it was started there was no stopping it. Someone inverted the bucket containing his memories and poured them down through his brain, the images descending with painful clarity. Until he saw the flash of the blade, felt his head yanked back, and he pulled the trigger on the gun. His gun hand was at an awkward angle, his arm wrapped around his body, the gun tucked under his other arm pointing through the seat. The sound strangely muffled by the upholstery as the hot muzzle of the barrel burned through his shirt to the layer of skin it was touching. He prayed he had the angle right, prayed he hadn't hesitated too long; waited for the burning sensation of the knife that would indicate that he had failed. His body jerked in reaction to the memories as he lived through it again. His thoughts shattering at the same point, but by now his body was too weak to deal with the emotional turmoil. His breathing rate kicked up short and shallow, and the world greyed and faded out as he was swept under by a sea of pain.

Gibbs watched the eyes glaze, the pupils moving rapidly, randomly. He felt the jerk as Tony's muscles tensed and fought to keep pressure on the wound. His entire focus was on Tony as he swore softly and tried to get some indication of a pulse.

"Kate?"

She turned to see Ducky walking towards her, his brow furrowed in deep concern. She pulled her attention away from the two officers she had enlisted to help her, as they spread a tarpaulin on the ground, and focussed on the doctor, a slight tinge of relief that he was there.

"It's Tony," she stated.

"I know. Abby filled me in. How bad?"

She didn't answer, couldn't answer. "We were about to get him out."

Ducky nodded.

She watched. She felt helpless, powerless. The two officers helped Gibbs lift him out, laid him on the tarpaulin. Gibbs kept the pressure on the wound, first with her scarf and then with a pressure bandage as Ducky examined her partner.

His skin was too pale, his breathing too shallow, his eyes closed, his limbs limp. The fear that had twisted her gut for the last day returned. Made somehow worse by the temporary relief of finding him alive. She fought back the tears, cursing her own weakness, wondering when he'd become so important to her. They couldn't lose him, not now.

At last the paramedics arrived, the frantic activity only emphasising further her own feelings of helplessness, only now Gibbs joined her. In stepping back he somehow ended up at her side. They both watched in silence, no thought of moving, of securing the crime scene. They watched as Tony was loaded on a stretcher, nothing more they could do now; watched as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance, no way to help; watched until the flashing red lights disappeared around the corner.

Kate turned and looked at the car, the fading siren still commanding her hearing. Blood splattered across the windows, spilled down the seat and pooled across the cream surface. There was too much of it.

Gibbs continued to watch as though he could see through the buildings, could follow the path of the ambulance, his expression unreadable.

Ducky studied the two of them for a moment, followed their gazes and guessed at their thoughts. He wished that he could reassure them. "Jethro, Kate." The three exchanged glances. "I think one of us should go to the hospital, young Anthony shouldn't be alone in case. . ." He didn't finish the sentence.

Gibbs scanned the area once round. "We'll all go," he stated quietly.