Purgatory

Chapter 21 – Waiting

EJ paced back and forth in the waiting room, a bottle of water in her hand and a half eaten bagel sitting on an end table, courtesy of Nurse Flynn. Her efforts to keep her mind off Gibbs had failed miserably. Scanning through the various magazines laying around the room had taken her no more than ten minutes. The television mounted on the wall had captured her attention for even less time as she dispatched every channel in less than five minutes. As tired as she was her mind wouldn't shut-up and her body wouldn't stop vibrating, making sitting for any period longer than a few minutes intolerable.

"Ahem," the sound of someone clearing his throat stopped her in her tracks. Turning she followed the sound to the waiting room door and the source of her interruption. A short, dark haired man stood there, dressed in a white lab coat with a stethoscope draped around is neck, the quintessential uniform of a physician. "Agent Barrett?" the doctor asked.

Her shoulders clenched painfully. "Yes," she said, almost too quiet to be heard.

"I'm Colonel Ritchie ...," he paused and shook his head as if clearing his mind. "Sorry," he continued. "I'm Doctor Ritchie. I'm the lead physician caring for Sergeant Gibbs."

Her heart started to pound. The loud sound of blood rushing in her ears, which she hated so much, made it hard to hear. She stepped closer to him, wanting to know about Gibbs but terrified about what he might tell her. Was Gibbs alive or dead? No matter what, she needed to know.

"Is he …, she paused, unable to ask the question. Swallowing hard she opened her mouth to try again.

But the doctor beat her to it. "He's alive."

She exhaled hard, collapsing onto the couch.

She looked up at the doctor, her face pleading. "Is he gonna be OK?"

Ritchie coughed and cleared his throat nervously. "He's in bad shape. He is severely malnourished, but his dehydration is more serious. Some of his organs were showing signs of failure when we got him into the ER. As you could see, he's pretty banged up; a broken rib, his right lung is bruised and so is his spleen, contusions everywhere. He also has a concussion."

"Can I see him," her voice was small, defeated.

"We're keeping him unconscious in order to manage his pain and to give his body a fighting chance to heal itself. He won't know you're there," Ritchie explained.

"Please, Doctor Ritchie. I just want to sit with him."

He sighed, then nodded. "I'll have Nurse Flynn get you set-up in his room. It's going to be three or four hours before we release him from observation. You'll need to wait here until then. You might want to get some rest."

Ritchie shifted nervously, looked down at the floor and then took in a deep breath, "Agent Barrett, I don't mean to sound insensitive, but I would be remiss if I didn't tell you his chance of survival is questionable right now. We'll know more in a couple of hours."

"I understand," she said quietly. "Thank you, Doctor."

He nodded and rose to leave, but stopped in mid-stride, turning back to her as he took something out of his pocket.

"Do you recognize this?" he asked, holding the object out for her inspection.

She let out a strangled gasp. Dangling from Ritchie's hand was her cameo locket. She nodded vigorously. "It's mine," she said. "A present from Gibbs …, a long time ago."

She reached out and gingerly took the locket, cradling it in both hands, staring down at it. She looked back up at Ritchie, confused. "Where did you find this?"

"Sergeant Gibbs had it. He was clutching it in his right hand. I had a hell of a time prying his fist open, but when I did, there it was."

"I thought I'd lost it," she said as she fastened it around her neck.

"I don't mean to pry," the doctor said, "but I'm assuming you're Sergeant Gibbs' immediate family. Is he your father, or an uncle perhaps?"

Such a question at any other time would have sent EJ into an angry tirade. She had grown tired of the age related stereo-types people placed on her and Gibbs' relationship. But her exhaustion, combined with her relief that Gibbs was alive and gratitude for the return of her locket, quelled her temper.

"No, not a father or uncle," she smiled at the doctor.

"Oh," he replied, his confusion obvious.

"Doctor," she said, her gaze commanding, her voice finding a certainty she had not felt in months, "you need to bring that Marine back to me, because when he's better I'm gonna slap a ring on his finger and drag him to the alter, even if he's kicking and screaming!"

"Oh!" this time the doctor understood and he smiled back at her.

Ritchie looked down at EJ, his expression turning serious. "We're going to do our best for the sergeant, Agent Barrett. He's a genuine military hero and we're a genuine military hospital and we don't leave our people behind."

"Thank you, Colonel," EJ said, purposefully using the title of his rank, understanding the commitment he had just made to her as a soldier. Ritchie nodded, turned and walked into the corridor.

She slumped back into the couch, her body aching and weary, her mind numb, as sleep finally overpowered her.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, or off to the side, or perhaps above her, she heard a familiar voice calling her name. Awareness slowly filtered through as the voice became clearer.

"EJ. EJ, it's me. EJ, we're here."

Realizing she must have dozed off she slowly opened her eyes to find Abby Schuto sitting on the couch, hovering over her. "EJ, we're here. We're here!"

As EJ showed signs of life Abby closed the gap between them, her face just inches away. "Oh, EJ, I'm so glad you're OK," Abby burst out sobbing as she leaned over EJ and enveloped her into a hug so tight EJ found it difficult to breathe. She could feel the tears on her neck while Abby's sobs shook her shoulders.

After a few moments Abby started to calm, relaxing her grip. EJ sat up, disoriented, surveying her surroundings. Quickly her circumstance returned to her. She recognized the waiting room, the harsh and sterile aromas, the muffled sounds in the hallway and remembered her arrival at the hospital with Gibbs.

Shaking her head she blinked back the fatigue in her eyes. Looking beyond Abby she was aware of several other people in the room. As she focused her gaze a gasp escaped her lips.

"What are you all doing here?" her voice rasped out from her parched throat.

Standing behind Abby looking down at her were Tony DiNozzo, Ziva David and Jerome Craig. Ducky Mallard sat in a chair next to she and Abby. All stared at her, concerned looks on their faces. EJ shook her head hard, trying to make sense of the scene before her.

"We're here for you," Abby said, sitting back and wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands.

"But …," EJ sputtered, struggling to turn swirling thoughts into words. "How …, why …?"

Craig stepped up next to Abby. "EJ, I'm so sorry this happened."

"Director?" was all she could say.

"This is still an NCIS case and I wanted my best people on it." He continued his explanation, "It's nice to have friends in high places with Lear Jets. Makes traveling easier." A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You're still part of our family EJ. You always will be, in spite of everything."

"Thank you, Director," she said, still stunned at seeing them all in front of her.

Craig continued, "EJ, we're so sorry. I just don't know what else to say," his face was pained and distraught. "Whatever you need, EJ …, anything …, just ask!"

EJ looked around at the team, everyone nodding their heads, affirming Craig's commitment. Glancing over each person she stopped at Ziva's face. Tears flowed freely down Ziva's cheeks, dripping off her chin. Both hands gripped Tony's arm and she had pulled herself tight into his side. Ziva's demeanor was startling. For her to show such strong feelings in public was unheard of, especially around the director. She was obviously in tremendous emotional pain, but EJ didn't think she and Ziva had become close enough to warrant such a severe reaction from the Israeli.

She began to feel an almost imperceptible twinge of uneasiness flutter in her stomach. Slowly it grew as the discomfort radiated up into her chest. But before she could pay any more attention to it Doctor Ritchie and Nurse Flynn walked into the waiting room.

At their arrival EJ watched her colleagues' expressions turn grim as they exchanged looks with the doctor and nurse. The twinge progressed upward into her throat as it tightened - her mouth and lips, numb. She felt the uneasiness morph into fear at what their faces were suggesting, but of which no one would speak. A thick, morbid silence enveloped the room. She found breathing difficult as her fear swelled into a smothering panic.

"What is it?" she croaked from dry lips. "What's happened?" She looked frantically from face to face, searching for an answer. No one spoke. Instead, the team glanced around at each other, questioning looks on their faces, then their gazes focused on the doctor and nurse.

"Damn it," she gritted out, "some one tell me what the hell's going on!"

Craig looked at Doctor Ritchie. "You haven't told her?" his voice was incredulous.

"She was asleep," Ritchie said defensively while Flynn nodded in support of the doctor.

"Tell me what?!" EJ was almost shouting now.

The thick silence returned to the room, no one breathed, all eyes on the doctor. He swallowed hard and looked down at EJ. "I'm sorry, Agent Barrett …," he paused.

But before he could continue EJ shouted out, "Noooooo!" She turned her eyes to the floor, shaking her head back and forth, her worst fear forcing it's way into her mind.

"No," she said again, her voice quieter, shaking her head harder, pulling her feet underneath her as she cowered back into the corner of the couching wrapping her arms around herself, her heart pounding madly.

"No," her voice was almost a whisper now. Her body shook violently.

"I'm sorry, Agent Barrett," the doctor started again, struggled to speak, his voice strained. "Sergeant Gibbs didn't make it. He died about 30 minutes ago. I'm …, I'm sorry."

Her mind battled against the doctor's words, denying he had uttered them, frantically searching for another meaning, another explanation. But her heart felt heavy at what she heard, knowing the truth of it. Raw, searing pain surged upward from deep inside and suddenly the silence of the room was shattered as her piercing wail unleashed all of the fear and grief she had bottled up inside her for so long.

She felt someone grab her shoulders, shaking her hard. "EJ!" the voice shouted at her. "EJ!"

The overwhelming despair dulled her senses, making it hard to hear and feel.

"EJ!" the voice shouted again. The shaking was harder, demanding her attention, making it impossible to ignore any longer.

"EJ, wake up!"

Her eyes snapped open. Terror wrapped around her throat like a vice. She jerked upright, her breath coming hard and fast. Struggling to focus she stared at the person in front of her, drawing a few more strangled breaths before realizing it was McGee. Her eyes darted around the waiting room searching for the rest of the team, but it was empty except for him.

EJ locked eyes with her partner. "Where are the others?" she asked, her voice shaking.

McGee looked confused, "What others?" he asked.

"Tony and Ziva and Craig and ..." her voice trailed off as McGee's expression softened.

"You were having a nightmare," he said. "You started screaming and I woke you."

She hesitated, afraid to ask about Gibbs; afraid the very act of asking might make her nightmare come true.

McGee seemed to know what troubled her as he offered the answer to her unasked question. "Gibbs is OK. He's been moved to his room."

She fell back into the couch, relief flooding over her. After a few moments she managed to calm her breathing.

"How long have you been here, Tim?"

"About an hour," he replied.

"Is Chris here?"

"Yeah. He's down the hall. He's been on the phone with Craig all afternoon."

She nodded. "What about Rathburn?"

"He and his men are in custody. They're being transported to the Fort Lewis brig."

"Any word on the TOW missile?"

"Actually, yes. The materials you found in the house had intel about its location. Bishop relayed the information to MTAC and Craig deployed the Ranger/Seal strike force by helicopter. In less than forty-five minutes they recovered the missile."

"Thank God," EJ breathed.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall she was shocked. She had been asleep for almost four hours. Looking past McGee she saw her own reflection in the room's window and realized it was dark outside.

She was exhausted, mentally and physically. The emotional roller-coaster she had been strapped into hadn't stopped since the night before. She had almost had sex with Bishop, then was confronted with a nuclear threat, while discovering that Gibbs was alive, only to be denied the opportunity to save him, forcing her to quit her job, which pressured McGee to follow her on a suicide mission, where they were saved at the last minute from certain death, eventually finding Gibbs alive, only to end up in this hospital with Gibbs on the verge of death. She rolled her eyes at the litany of her day as some part of her found it's absolute absurdity humorous.

Another part of her, though, felt lost and scared. She was loosing control and she knew it. The months of grief combined with the insanity and emotional rawness of the past several days had stripped away her sense of self, layer by layer. She was afraid she might not be able to hold it together much longer.

"Agent Barrett," Flynn's Irish brogue broke her concentration. She looked up at the large man's gentle face. "Lass, I'm here to get ya settled in Sergeant Gibbs' room. He's there now and doing fine."

Relief surged through her as she choked out, "Thank you," to the nurse.

He looked down at the half-eaten bagel on the end table, then brought his eyes back to EJ. She caught his glance and gave him a sheepish shrug. He let out a soft chuckle.

"Ah, Lass," he sighed and gave her a fatherly pout. "What am I gonna do with ya, Darlin'? You're much too pretty a young thing to be wastin' away." He flashed her a warm smile. "Come on. I'll find ya something else to eat after we get ya settled."

He looked at McGee. "You come along too, Agent McGee."

They stood and walked past Flynn into the hallway. He gave Tim a slap on the back. "McGee - a fine Irish name you've got, Lad," he said and let out a hearty laugh.

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