Gibbs stood beside McGee's hospital bed. If he didn't know any better, he'd think the kid was just sleeping. In a way he supposed he was, but the doctors didn't know the real story. They didn't know that Tim had been abruptly unplugged from his partner, and that it had probably caused some kind of damage that their scans wouldn't be able to detect.

He put a hand on Tim's forehead, brushing his hair from his face. His hair had grown in a bit lately. Since Tony had left for the undercover op. It was almost as long as when he'd first joined the MCRT all those years ago. Gibbs smiled with the memory, remembering the way he and Tony would rip into each other. He knew Tony liked him from the start. That's the way he showed it.

He closed his eyes, a frown taking place of the smile that had been there just moments earlier. There would be no more of that, now. Their class clown was gone. They'd already been sorely missing it before all of this, and now it was lost entirely.

Gibbs took a breath and opened his eyes. He leaned down closer to McGee. "You need to come out of this, Tim. We need you here, ya hear me? You don't get to stay in there forever..."

When he pulled away again, Tim's eyes were open and staring ahead at the ceiling. Gibbs wasn't sure he was actually awake, the suddenness of it a bit shocking. "Tim?" he said as he placed a hand on the man's shoulder, eyes narrowing in observation. Tim shot up to sit, eyes still ahead of him nowhere in particular, and after a moment, he began to weep.

Still shocked, Gibbs took a moment to realize what was happening. His agent was likely already aware that Tony was gone. He already knew, though he'd not been conscious for it. The sight of his mourning form tore something inside Gibbs, and he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled Tim to him tightly.

"I know, Tim. I know..."

*~.~*

The first half of the flight home had been morbid and silent. Each of them taking turns staring at the body bag buckled onto the couch, and McGee who sat across from it, like he was guarding it from further harm. His face was blank, and it had them all on edge, worried about the man's state of mind.

Fornell was asleep in one of the seats, his wrapped head resting on a pillow against the window. The brief amount of time he'd been conscious, he'd spent apologizing to Gibbs, being on the verge of tears in his drug-fueled state. Gibbs had been relieved when he'd fallen asleep so quickly after boarding.

"Is he gonna be okay, Gibbs?" Ellie asked quietly where she sat across from him. Prentiss was beside her and Reid beside Gibbs. Gibbs couldn't answer, though. He didn't have one to give.

"I think he's still in shock," Reid said as quietly. "Between the weeks leading up to this, the sudden realization that he was getting signals from Tony, and this mission...ending in the worst way possible..."

"It could definitely have been worse," Emily chimed in.

"It could definitely have been better," Gibbs replied. Prentiss nodded. "I don't know what's going on in McGee's head right now. Hasn't said a word since he woke up. That's why we need to get him in to be seen when we get Fornell to Bethesda."

"We've already arranged for your transportation from the airport," Reid told him. "An ambulance will take Agent Fornell. You could follow with Agent McGee."

Gibbs hadn't looked away from Tim. So when he saw the slight change in his expression, he was alert and ready. "Tim?" he said as the younger man pushed up out of his seat and stepped into the aisle facing Tony. Tim glanced to Gibbs with a look of apprehension on his face, but then back down at the body bag. He reached out to its zipper and began pulling it down. Gibbs stood. "McGee," he warned, but Tim continued to unzip the bag. Gibbs walked the few steps it took to reach him and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder, squeezing a bit to get his attention. But Tim pulled open the bag and looked at Tony. Gibbs stood beside him, ready to comfort him if need be. Tim had been the only one who hadn't seen Tony's body yet. Maybe he was just trying to get some closure or something.

Tim's face turned to Gibbs again, this time with slightly widened eyes, before looking back down. He reached his hand down to Tony's face, then to his neck.

"He's warm," Tim said. It was the first thing he'd said since waking up, and it took Gibbs by surprise. "He has a pulse. It's weak but it's there!"

Gibbs figured maybe Tim was having a mental break. He pushed him carefully out of the way and put his own hand on Tony's cheek. He did feel warm. He shouldn't. He'd been in a cold drawer overnight. A spark akin to hope dared to bloom in his chest as he reached for Tony's carotid artery...and he felt the slow but steady beat against his finger tips.

Gibbs' chest filled with warmth, the hair on the back of his neck-really his entire body-stood up as though he were near electricity. His heart pounding, he looked back at McGee, hoping this wasn't a dream. The others were now standing around them, curious eyes wide in anticipation.

"Agent Gibbs?" Reid questioned when the older man seemed speechless.

"He's got a pulse," Gibbs replied quietly. He watched McGee's face light up with a wide smile, eyes wet with relief and hope, and Gibbs was feeling the same way but couldn't let himself fully accept it just yet.

"He was pronounced dead at the scene," Bishop said in disbelief. "They had him in cold storage overnight..."

"Agent McGee's theory must've been correct," Reid said. "The Contingency abilities must've been lying dormant all these years. Or perhaps needed a reboot of sorts."

"He was communicating with Tim," Prentiss countered.

"Unknowingly," Reid replied. "What he was sending were more like signals. Emotions, mostly. But he wasn't doing it purposely. Even Tim didn't know what was happening at first."

"He's right," Tim chimed in. "It wasn't anything like it was before. It used to be as if we had a built in communications device in our heads. I never got communications from him this time. Just feelings and flashes of images. Like whatever was left of Contingency detected his distress and decided it needed to assist in preserving his life."

"More likely its own," Reid said. "By keeping Tony alive, Contingency can continue its existence..."

"That implies that Contingency has intelligence," Bishop said. "Like way beyond, say, a virus."

"That would be a fair comparison actually," Reid replied.

They looked back over at Gibbs and McGee, realizing they'd been removing the body bag from the agent and covering him with a blanket up to his chin. Gibbs was tucking it around Tony's body in attempt to help him warm up further. He rolled up an extra sweatshirt from his go bag to make a pillow, and positioned it carefully under Tony's head.

When they were through, they stood. Gibbs' hands cupped over his nose and mouth for a long moment before rubbing them down to his cheeks and settling them back at his sides. He turned to Tim whose eyes were still shining as he looked to his boss.

"You saved him," Gibbs told him.

Tim's brows furrowed. "I..."

Gibbs took a step forward toward him. "You got us out here. If we hadn't been there to take him home, he'd have revived there in that morgue and you know what would've ended up happening to him."

Of course, Gibbs was right. Tony would've become the thing he terrified almost as much as losing his team; a science experiment. A lab rat, tortured and studied for the rest of time.

Tim found himself pulled into a rough hug.

*~.~*

Ducky and Palmer had brought the van to the jet once it had landed. They loaded Tony into it and brought him directly to Gibbs' house, while an ambulance took Fornell to Bethesda for observation.

The MCRT had given their thanks and said their goodbyes to the BAU team members that had helped them out, and Vance had come to pick up his agents to take them home. Ellie was dropped off first. McGee insisted on going home with Gibbs to help watch over Tony. Gibbs didn't refuse him.

Vance got the sit-rep on the ride there. He was mostly silent for it, and Gibbs couldn't blame him. It was a lot to process. When they pulled into the driveway, he did finally speak. "Need help with anything?"

"We've got it," Gibbs replied as he readied to open his door

"Well is there anything I can do?" the direction asked.

"You can do what you did last time; give us some time."

"What about Bishop?"

"She's still trying to wrap her head around all of this. Might do her some good to have a distraction. I'll have her go over cold cases until we get back. The piles of information are like crack for her. Just be sure to throw her chips now and then." He smirked at the director and then climbed out to follow McGee who was now walking up to the house.

"You take care," Vance called after them. "Both of you. Keep me in the loop about his progress, Jethro." Gibbs simply nodded, then turned to open the door for Tim.

It was like deja vu from years ago, seeing Tony in the guest bed, Ducky sitting in vigil beside it as he took the man's vitals. Tim was scrambling to find something, leaving Gibbs with the older man for the moment. He stood there and looked over Tony again. The morgue staff had left him in his clothing; a bloodied tee shirt and sweatpants that he'd likely been in for bed before being snatched up. He realized, at that point, that McGee was probably looking for something clean they could change him into.

Then he looked down at himself and realized that he was kind of in the same boat, clothes-wise. It was then that he recalled being in the restroom at the hospital, washing the blood from his face. Throwing up the coffee he'd had on the jet into the sink at the memory of a similar spattering on Tony's face when Kate had been shot down in front of them. Gibbs had been the one to wash it off the agent's skin, finding Tony in a state of shock in the NCIS bathroom then.

He remembered being so sick to his stomach at the cruel coincidence...

"Okay, I found a heating pad if that helps, and an extra blanket in the basement," Tim said as he came back into the room. "And I think there's still some of Tony's spare clothes here," he continued as he walked to the dresser, placing the blanket and pad on top before opening the first drawer, then the second. "At least a clean shirt," he said as he pulled one out. It was similar to the one he had on now, Tim noted. "I'm gonna grab the basin that's still under the sink, and some washcloths. We can try and clean up the..." He gestured to the side of his own head in reference to Tony's gunshot wound, paused a moment while he looked at Tony, then left the room once more.

Gibbs felt a swelling of pride for the man. He sat down on the edge of the bed beside Tony and began lifting up the bloody tee shirt. It was dry now, but that didn't stop his recollection of the night before.

Carefully, he removed the shirt, trying not to grimace as it stuck in some places, and threw it into the trash bin beside the bed just in time for McGee to walk in with the basin half filled with warm water and cloths. He reached out and took it from him, laying it on the nightstand before soaking a washcloth and squeezing it out. He gently scrubbed the dried blood from Tony's torso and remembered how the blood had oozed from his head down between the two of them when he'd held him there.

"You okay, boss?" Tim asked, noticing the slight shaking of his hand.

Gibbs shrugged. "I should be. I will be. How about you?"

"I'm just so relieved to know he's alive, I can't seem to shake this nervous energy. I'm uh...I'm gonna grab a towel so we can uh..." He hurried back out of the room, not needing to finish the sentence, and returned with a bath towel as Gibbs started on Tony's hair. It was just the one side that was matted with dried blood, so moving him wasn't necessary.

Ducky had been sitting quietly, watching Gibbs work. He knew this wasn't the time to speak his mind entirely. He simply needed to report what he knew the agent would need to hear. "Tony's heart rate and breathing are improving with the passing time," he began. "I would need more equipment to give you an idea as far as brain activity goes, but my guess is that if he's come back from death, all of him should repair eventually.

"Thanks, Duck," he replied as he finished getting most of the blood out of Tony's hair. Tony would have to shower to get the rest out. After patting him dry with the towel Tim had come back with, they both carefully got him into the clean shirt, and McGee grabbed the blanket to drape over his body.

"How long do you think it'll take this time?" Tim asked.

Gibbs looked up at him from where he now sat back in the chair. "No telling," he said, shaking his head. "We've never lost him all the way like that. Longest he was ever unconscious after healing was twenty-four hours. When he was shot up by Gideon in that warehouse."

"Yeah." Tim remembered all too well. He sank down onto the edge of the bed and looked at Tony for a long moment before looking back at Gibbs. "What if..." His question dropped off, but Gibbs knew what he was going to ask. Hell, he was thinking it too.

"We'll deal with it when he's better," Gibbs replied. "Right now, the important thing is that we've got him back. He's alive, and he's got all of us watching out for him." Tim nodded in agreement, but it hadn't made him any less worried about Tony's memories not being intact. There was really no telling how much he'd be affected by the gunshot to the brain. What it did to Gideon was to, after while, cause him to go mad. What if Tony didn't remember them?

He quickly pushed the thought out of his head. He needed to be patient. Wait and see. And he really needed to order something for dinner because neither of them had eaten, and Gibbs would probably continue not doing so unless Tim put it right in front of him.

"Hey, Ducky, you hungry?"

*~.~*

Gibbs woke up to a grumbling stomach. He could smell something cooking, and he heard Ducky and McGee talking softly. He slipped out of bed and down the stairs, poking his head into the guest room to see Tony still sleeping, before heading out to the others.

"Good morning, Jethro," Ducky greeted as he poured a cup of coffee for him. "We heard you come down the stairs, so I took the liberty," he said as he handed the cup to him. "Would you care for eggs and toast? That's all I was able to find."

"Sounds great, Duck," he replied before taking a seat beside Tim. "You two sleep okay?"

"The chair in there is great for sleepovers," Tim said with a slight grin.

"And as you well know, the couch is probably the most comfortable thing in the house," Ducky said as he placed a plate of food in front of Gibbs. "Mr. Palmer is on the way to pick me up so that we can head into the office. You'll call me if you need anything?"

"I shouldn't need anything, but yeah, of course."

"Let's hope not then. I hope your day is pleasantly uneventful. I'll leave the equipment here so Timothy can check on Tony's vitals. There's a notebook on the side table where you can jot down the numbers," he told Tim. "If anything shows up as a decline, call me straight away."

"I'll do that," Tim told him.

"Very well then. I'll see you both later."

"Have a good day, Ducky," Tim said.

"Tell Abby I'll call her when there's news. I'm sure she's pried what she could from Ellie already," Gibbs said. Ducky grinned, then headed out the door to the van as Jimmy pulled up.

The two men ate in companionable silence. "Need more coffee?" Tim asked after a while.

"The answer is always yes."

Tim let out a slight laugh as he stood and made his way to the pot.

"Gibbs?" Tony's voice sounded from the doorway, and both men spun around to see him standing there...

tbc...