Despite Gibbs' suggestion, Tony took the most direct route to the sickbay. It was hard enough to walk through the narrow corridors and oval access ports on the way without having to stabilize another person who had to keep stopping to hurl into a dangerously overflowing bag every few minutes.
His knock on the sickbay door was opened abruptly by a rather hassled looking doctor, otherwise known as 'the suspect in question'.
"NCIS!" he was positively livid, "You guys are under direct orders not to bother me. I have a room full of first-timers with motion sickness."
He started to shut the door but Tony barged through, "Yeah," he said, dragging McGee behind him, "Well, now you have another one."
The doctor's expression went from one of anger to resignation. He rolled his eyes at Tony, "I expected more from you guys", he growled.
"He's a Probie", Tony explained.
"Find a bed, we'll get 'round to you", he invited taking the brimming bag from McGee with one hand and passing him a fresh one with the other.
Tony looked about for a bed. The room was full of miserable looking navy personnel in various stages of malaise. McGee looked like he would fit right in. Tony sat him on a vacant bed and looked up as someone behind him vomited. This seemed to trigger a chain reaction that went round the room like a Mexican wave, McGee included. Tony was staring to feel a bit off himself. It was like someone in the room yawning.
He looked down at McGee, pale and wretched on the bed, "Sorry, Probie", he whispered urgently, "I've gotta get out of here or it's gonna be Hotel California for me."
He tapped McGee twice on the back and fled, not even to looking back to see McGee's baleful stare.
McGee started as the nurse touched him on the shoulder. He had been sitting hunched on the bed with his eyes shut trying to ignore the sights, sounds and smells of the room. His head was thumping in a way that made the world slide in and out of reality at regular intervals. He couldn't remember a time when he felt so miserable.
"Special agent McGee?"
"Hmm", he looked up slowly and was dazzled, not just by the sight of a beautiful woman, but a beautiful woman in seemingly perfect health.
"I just need to check your condition", she explained, it could have seemed caring if she hadn't sounded like she'd said it a million times today.
She took the bag from him and shook out a fresh new one. Placing it in his hands, she wrapped the cuff around his arm to measure his blood pressure.
"Taken anything for it?" she asked, concentrating on the blood pressure measurement.
"No, this trip was a bit of a surprise", he rasped with what was left of his tortured vocal chords.
She slid him a bemused smile, "How long have you been vomiting?"
"How long have we been moving?"
She smiled at him, "That long, eh?"
She released the blood pressure monitor and frowned. She took his hand in hers and pinched up a fold of skin. "You're dehydrated", she surmised, "How much have you drunk since you came on board?"
The mere mention of ingestion caused him to retch into his brand new shiny sick bag but he was down to the bile by now. The nurse stood by, nonplussed, waiting for him to finish.
"Nothing, I've had nothing since lunchtime", McGee admitted, gasping a little, "There hasn't been much time to get anything in, it would only come back up again.." he petered out as he caught the annoyed look on her face, "sorry", he apologised.
"Doctor", she called back over her shoulder.
The hassled doctor reappeared, she showed him McGee's chart and he too did a pinch test.
"Oral re-hydration?" he directed the question at the nurse.
"Tried mentioning it him", she said with an amused tone.
"Ah", he turned to McGee, "Apart from the obvious nausea, you're dehydrated, Special Agent McGee", he explained, "we have a couple of options at this point: oral" he held up a large tablet and an even larger bottle of water causing McGee to dry retch, "anal", he held up an even larger pill, "or, my suggestion at this point, intravenous."
McGee stifled a yawn which was completely at odds with the emotion he was feeling.
"Ok, oral it is!" the doctor laughed. It had been a hard day and the look on McGee's face was enough to put him in a better mood. "We might try to sustain you on the patches if the IV kicks in OK", he promised.
"Start him on the IV", he instructed the nurse as he left.
McGee looked up at the nurse expectantly. She gave him a brief smile.
"Lie down", she suggested as she unwrapped a thin rubber tube from a plastic bag. "I'll start the fluid going and we can pump the anti-nausea stuff in straight away. You're going to start feeling much better real soon".
Lying on the thin mattress, McGee closed his eyes in relief. He felt the needle slide into his arm and the cool liquid start flowing.
"That's the fluid", he heard the nurse say. "Now I'm going to add the anti-nausea agent. I have to warn you that there may be some side effects but most people really don't care about those at this point."
"Bring it on," said McGee, he couldn't possibly feel worse than this.
"It can make you feel a bit drowsy, everyone reacts a bit differently so I'll stay with you a few minutes to see if there are any problems. There: all done. How do you feel?"
McGee considered for a moment then smiled, the awful sensation was receding, "better, much be…", then the world spun and he sank into darkness.
The nurse stood, "Special Agent McGee", she called tapping his face hard with the palm of her hand. She grabbed the chart and checked his first name, that usually worked better, "Tim", she called, "can you hear me?"
"Doctor!" she called.