Pain; absolute and complete pain. Every limb, every joint, every organ and most definitely his head sending the same message: pain. Slowly, voices disassembled themselves from the pain: One was gruff, an old guy possibly unfriendly, then there was a younger guy, not so sure about him and then a female voice, low and sultry. Hmm, he liked that voice.
"I vote we leave him here and make a run for it, it's the only way we'll outrun this storm", now he was only mildly fond of that voice, tending towards fearful.
"This is not a democracy. Our best bet is to turn around and head back to the cabin". Clearly the gruff one had his best interests at heart. This process of assigning personality to voices was going to require a bit of refining before he got a handle on everyone.
He opened his eyes momentarily and the blaring light seared through his eyes. He caught only a glimpse of the three fuzzy faces.
Gibbs looked up at the sky. He was getting worried: the temperature was already dropping and the wind was picking up.
Ziva gave him a worried look, "What if he can't walk?"
Gibbs frowned, "Let's find out".
He turned to McGee. "Sorry about his McGee but we're pressed for time. Tony, get the other arm."
Together they hauled McGee to his feet. "Can you walk?" Gibbs demanded staring into his glazed eyes at close quarters.
Obediently McGee tried a step and lurched over to the left. Tony caught him and lowered him to a sitting position.
"No good", Gibbs said to Ziva, "He can't walk, we'll have to …."
"I can walk", came McGee's defiant voice, "I just can't balance".
Gibbs absorbed this information for a moment, appreciating the distinction, then made a decision.
"Right Ziva you take the backpack", he started undoing McGee's straps, "and Tony and I will take McGee".
Now that McGee's brain had completed its startup routine and was fully rebooted, he went about the important task of ensuring survival. This involved, primarily, trying to understand his surrounds and his travelling companions. So long as he kept his eyes shut, he seemed to be able to walk in something approximating a straight line. Unless he lost concentration whereupon he veered to the left, taking his human crutches with him. The pain in his head was ever present but becoming bearable. It was either diminishing or he was finding a way to deal with it, he wasn't sure.
Having insisted that he could walk, he felt duty bound to stay upright and not pass out on his feet as the rest of his body was demanding. When he wasn't trying to recover his course, he spent the time listening intently to the banter around him. Clearly the old guy was the boss, his name was 'Gibbs'. The woman who wanted to abandon him to the wilds was 'Ziva' and the other guy was 'Tony' when Ziva spoke and 'DiNozzo' when Gibbs spoke. From that he could work out both the hierarchy and Tony's full name.
His name seemed to be McGee but sometimes Tony called him Probie. That could be a first name but it was probably short for something. He wasn't sure if his current physical state had temporarily lowered him to the bottom of the pecking order or if this was his natural place. Two out of three of his companions seemed concerned enough for his welfare that they were willing to put themselves at risk for him. At least the odds were in his favour.
He still couldn't work out this Tony guy. What he said and what he did seemed dichotomous. One moment, was saying derogatory comments about him and the next he was helping him to drink when he was too disorientated to work out what to do. He definitely need more time to assess this guy.
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They made slow progress and the sleet had already started as the cabin came into view again. The cold rain was starting to soak through their clothes.
"Thank God", said Ziva softly, hugging the backpack tiredly as she walked.
She pushed open the door and stomped in dropping McGee's backpack just inside the door and sat heavily on one of the beds.
Gibbs and Tony followed each supporting McGee around their shoulders. They deposited him on the other bed where he landed with a groan, then staggered to the battered lounge chairs. The outside world was growing dark with the storm and the wind was buffeting the small cabin.
"Let's get that fire going again", Gibbs suggested.
"Right", said Tony, "Probie…"
Gibbs whacked him over the head. "Oh, right boss" and he got up to check the state of the fireplace.
Gibbs hauled himself out of the lounge chair and headed over to where McGee lay. He was sound asleep. Well, he'd let him have this one. He was pretty knackered this morning and he did manage to stay conscious for the entire journey back, which would probably have been no mean feat even if he hadn't had the whack on the head. He reached down and touched McGee's clothing. It was soaking wet. For that matter, his own pants were soaking wet and his jacket.
"Your clothes wet?" he directed his question to Ziva.
She felt her pants, "soaking", she confirmed.
"Let's get them dry", said Gibbs unzipping his fly.
Tony slammed the door shut sheltering his armful of logs. He looked up to see both Gibbs and Ziva removing their pants. "Did I miss something?" he asked hopefully.
"Get your gear off Dinozzo", Gibbs commanded, then seeing Tony's wide-eyed expression, "we're going to dry the stuff off in front of the fire, you moron".
"Oh", said Tony, "I knew that" and he headed over to the fireplace.
When Tony looked up from depositing his logs he saw Ziva removing McGee's pants.
"Where's that camera", he thought out loud.
"What's that DiNozzo", Gibbs queried.
"Ah, I just thought we could use the camera to take more shots of the crime scene since we're stuck here anyway", Tony managed.
Ziva gave him a knowing look.
"Get the fire going, DiNozzo."
Gibbs rustled around in Ziva's pack for the first aid kit and came up with the cold compress. "This might help", he muttered to himself, placing it on McGee's forehead.
He ventured to the window to look out over the blackened landscape. DiNozzo might have done them a favour, this storm came up faster than anticipated and they might not have been able to outrun it.
Of course, now he had other problems.