Shot To Hell by ceilidh

A/N:- Well, here we are - the first 'face-to-face' between Tim and Tony.

I couldn't decide whether to make this chapter an all-out angsty one, or to go for a lighter approach. Let's face it, these boys are at their adorable best when they're making us laugh! So after much discussion with my McMuse, I settled for a little bit of both. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter Nine - Bonds Beyond Brotherhood

Tim McGee frowned. While he'd been sleeping, someone had clearly been meddling with his meds. There really was no other, logical way to explain what he'd just seen in the doorway to his room.

Casting another suspicious glance towards his IV, Tim then smiled, then laughed in wry exasperation. Okay, so he still had God knew what dripping into his bloodstream, but… no, it wasn't the meds. And he wasn't tripping out again, either.

A white flannel, ingeniously taped to the end of a gently waggling crutch, could only mean –

"Get in here, DiNozzo"

A face honed into a study of 'who, me?' innocence poked itself around the edge of the doorframe – its breezy grin, and Tony's equally bright greeting, not quite masking the awkwardness beyond.

"Hey, McMind-Reader! How'd you know it was me?"

"Lucky guess," Tim shot back, lifting the silent cloud of tension between them, as only he could.

"'sides, you're the only shameless nutcase I know who'd shang-hai supplies from a hospital closet."

"Yeah, you wouldn't believe the stuff they keep in there," Tony grinned slyly back at him – that grin turning to full devilish strength as Tim raised his hands in 'I-don't-want-to-know' surrender.

Beyond this familiar banter, though, both knew far more serious issues still had to be addressed – a still niggling conscience prompting Tony to make the first, still hesitant move to fully regain Tim McGee's trust.

Resting his makeshift peace-pole on a nearby chair, he then moved on to stand at Tim's bedside – encouraged by the bright-eyed welcome he found there to ask the first, somewhat clichéd question.

"So, um- how you doing, probie?"

A gentle smile was reassuringly familiar. All things considered, Tony would gladly have settled for that. So a wickedly mischievous grin, and the dry quip that followed, caught him completely by surprise.

"Ruff-"

Recovering himself, Tony grinned back – but not quite convincingly enough for Tim McGee's liking. Or maybe it was the joke which, in hindsight, had been corny enough to make Tim pull a face too.

Ruff?!? Jeez, McGee, don't give up the day job.

Realizing how that wince could be misinterpreted, Tim quickly turned it back into a reassuring grin while easing himself up on his pillows.

"I'm fine, Tony. Just kinda tired-"

"Yeah, I bet," Tony agreed, nodding in sympathy while perching himself on the edge of Tim's bed – his next words not so much the understatement of a century, more that of the entire millennium.

"You had us worried there, probie. Gave us quite a scare."

"Yeah, Tony, I know. I kinda scared me too," Tim admitted quietly, toying with the bandage on his arm – his voice dropping even lower now, in self-condemnation, as he nodded to the sling that supported it.

"It shouldn't be my arm in this thing, Tony. It should be my butt, for being so damn stupid-"

"I hope there's room for mine," Tony grinned, trying to lift this unsettling drop in Tim's mood – that grin fading considerably as Tim shook his head, the smile he'd hoped to see refusing to re-appear

Damn, this was serious. None of those famous nicknames, not even the failsafe 'kid' was going to work here. And he could guiltily count on one hand the number of times he'd called his own best friend this way, but - well, needs must.

"Hey, c'mon, Tim, ease up," he said at last, giving the side of Tim's leg a gently rallying slap.

"If anyone deserves their butt in a sling, it's me, for pulling that dumb stunt on you. This wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" Tim cut in quietly, still too angry with himself to notice this rare use of his first name.

When it finally registered, it brought back just a trace of a shyly appreciative, kid brother smile – but, to Tony's dismay, no change to his mood as he took a deep breath and ploughed relentlessly on.

"I know I'm everyone's geek-boy, Tony, but I'm a scientist, too. I knew what was wrong with me. I knew it was serious, something that could even have killed me. So yes, Tony, this is my fault. I knew what was happening. I've caused all this trouble, caused all this worry, and I could… I should have stopped it-"

"Yeah, and we both know why you didn't," Tony shot back, his frustration getting the better of him – Tim McGee's emotions inevitably overwhelming him too, now, as everything came rushing back.

That damn dog. The attack. Abby. The comfort he'd needed – and the way she'd turned on him instead.

He'd put his own life at risk rather than face her. He'd felt himself falling, as a stricken voice yelled his name.

Strong arms had wrapped around him then, holding him, as his body shook uncontrollably within them.

As Tim started to shake again, falling into helpless tears, those same arms gently encircled him now – that same voice bringing him strength and priceless comfort through its inevitable aftermath.

"Attaboy, probie. Yeah, you've had all this inside you for too long, haven't you, huh? Yeah, you've been through hell, kid, but you'll be okay now. It's okay, Tim, I'm here."

Focussed, completely, on his stricken friend, Tony was oblivious to the eyes that covertly watched him – the anger which had crossed Gibbs' face just moments before giving way to a smile of fatherly approval.

However brashly he'd done it, Tony DiNozzo had made Tim McGee confront his conscience. Now he'd be able to come to terms with it, forgive himself for his own lapse in judgement. And from that, he'd be able to share that precious forgiveness around, to those who needed it, so they could all start to heal.

So yes – yes, as he stole silently away, Jethro Gibbs knew his chalk and cheese boys were going to be just fine. The bonds between them went beyond brotherhood. They were still there.

They'd always be there.