CHAPTER SIX

Doctor Donald Mallard walked down the stairs to the hospital archives in a companionable silence with Doctor Harding. The British ME respected and liked the neurologist. Unlike most neurologists, Harding was willing to dumb things down for those who didn't understand the more detailed points of neuroscience. This was just about everybody. Reaching a hand out for the door to the archive room, Ducky was stopped by a hand on his wrist.

"Now, you can't say I didn't warn you…" the neurologist began, his hand still on Ducky's arm.

"Didn't warn me about what?" the ME replied, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"The previous archivist and his archiving skills… or… more appropriately, his considerable lack thereof."

Ducky growled softly to himself as he searched through the filing cabinet. The archivist at this hospital needed to be shot then stuffed and put on display for all to see. Doctor Harding grinned at the ME.

"Far be it from me to say 'I told you so'…"

Ducky shot him a glare, then with a triumphant smile pulled out the file he was looking for. McGee, Timothy Daniel. He took the file over to an easy chair, sat down and began to read.

Ducky didn't know how much time had passed before he heard the soft footsteps coming down the stairs. He glanced up to see Kate hovering uncertainly in the doorway. He smiled at the Agent and gestured for her to take a seat.

"Something troubling you, Caitlin?" he asked.

Ducky frowned as he watched the normally stoic Special Agent's face crumple and the entire story of her brother's death came pouring out. Ducky listened quietly then when the Agent had finished, he opened his arms and let her cry herself out on his shoulder.

Tony Dinozzo sat up in his hospital bed. The swelling in his jaw had gone down; he'd had the stitches above his eye and in his lip removed and his black eye had faded to a sickly looking greenish-yellow colour. He looked over at the doctor sitting by his bed in confusion. Ducky was explaining epilepsy to him, what it meant, how he'd have to adjust, what had happened to McGee and Kate's brother.

"OK, Ducky, and in layman's terms that means…?"

"Well, you will keep having seizures until they find a course of medication that will keep them under control."

"Great. Just goddamn wonderful."

"It could be worse, Anthony."

"Oh yeah, Ducky… How?"

Ducky turned and stared gravely at Tony. Ducky fought to be patient, the young man had just discovered he was going to have seizures for the rest of his life after all. But my word, there were people who suffered multiple seizures a day! Ducky tried to keep himself calm. Now Ducky knew how Gibbs felt, except he was not going to clip Dinozzo upside the head, no matter how much he wanted to.

"Well, Anthony, you could have seizures that determine who you are as a person, like young Timothy over there. You, Gibbs and Kate give him hell and tell him he should stop being so timid, but he can't change that or he'll have more seizures. You could have seizures in which you stop breathing, also like Timothy. Did you know he can feel the first 15 seconds of every seizure he has? Everything he hits, every bone he breaks, every muscle he strains, not being able to breath, knowing he can't do anything about it. Fighting the entire time. But it could be different again; you could have seizures in water, like Kate's brother. At least that poor boy never knew what hit him. He didn't have time to be scared of death."

When Ducky saw the horrified look on Tony's face he struggled to compose himself. It wouldn't do to have Tony feel like he'd been given a life sentence.

"I'm sorry, Anthony. I'm just trying to make you see that what you have isn't as bad as it could be. It isn't a life sentence. You aren't going to have to drastically change your life because of this."

"It's OK, Ducky. I think I needed that."

Here Tony paused, his head bowed, seemingly lost in thought. Ducky watched as Tony ran a hand over the pink scars that marked where his stitches had been, watched as Tony ghosted shaking fingertips over his once-swollen jaw and healing black eye. Tony raised his head and stared at the wall that separated his and McGee's room.

"McGee feels all of this?" Tony asked, gesturing to his face, not taking his eyes off the wall.

"For about the first 15 seconds, then the seizure takes over and he loses consciousness. He fights it and he shouldn't," the doctor said softly.

Tony shuddered, "The poor bastard," he whispered, "I only felt it when I came to, and that was bad enough. But to feel it when it happens and not be able to do anything…" He shuddered again.

"When can I go home?" Tony asked Ducky out of the blue.

"Well, the doctor said you could go home as soon as you could walk out of your room," Ducky answered fighting a smirk.

"What! Why didn't you say so? I would've gone home ages ago. I hate hospitals," Tony rambled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hoisted himself out of the bed, steadying himself as the room lurched alarmingly. He made his way more carefully over to the bathroom, changed into the clothes Ducky handed him through the door and slowly but steadily made his way down to the nurses' station.

Signing his medical release forms, Tony was about to wave goodbye to the hospital forever. He stopped, however, looking over at the closed door to Tim's room. Ducky had said that the Probie had been a pretty well permanent visitor when he was out of it. Sighing, he moved around the desk and quietly let himself into Tim's room. He winced as he saw Tim's broken face, and then sat down in the uncomfortable hospital chair next to his bed, flashing Abby a smile, when the Goth raised her eyebrows at him.

"He did sit with me until Gibbs showed up," Tony started in defensively, "and he is SO going to owe me when he wakes up."