Battlefield – chapter 3 Ice
A silent line down one side of the bed: Tony at the head, then Ziva and finally Gibbs. In some bizarre way, they constituted McGee's family – a thought that caused Gibbs a momentary guilty pang. He really should contact McGee's actual family. The medical staff had enquired and he had told them the truth: he would take care of it. And he would: eventually.
The problem was that if people with DNA similar to McGee arrived then they, his pseudo family, would be forced to give up their guardian rights. Besides, he rationalised, nobody would know anything for certain until McGee woke so there was no point in worrying his blood relatives right now. It was the same line of reasoning he had used to select Abby to buy supplies: she was innately closer to McGee than the rest of them, so she had been usurped. Jealousy? Perhaps. More, the team needed time together without unfair competition.
He looked over at Tony dozing in his chair. Tony who routinely cobbled together a makeshift family from anything he had handy: sporting teams, frat buddies and workmates. It didn't matter who they were, Tony had a role for everyone; even McGee. He would have done well in the forces. There was no question in Gibbs' mind that it was McGee who had let Tony in and not the other way around. McGee had accepted the role of support to Tony's lead. McGee had a lot of emotional resilience thanks to the fallback of a supporting family. He probably didn't realise the power he had over Tony. The smallest rejection might have been devastating.
McGee stirred and Tony sat bolt upright. Looking at the two of them now, the dynamic had not changed all that much. Tony had prime position, ready the instant McGee woke. He, more that any of them, needed forgiveness.
McGee's eyes fluttered open as far as they could through swollen lids and he stared out uncomprehendingly.
"Probie?"
Gibbs smiled at Tony's opening line – McGee would have panicked if Tony had called him anything else.
"You're in the hospital: you're going to be fine."
McGee blinked slowly for a full minute and then gradually turned his head towards Tony's voice.
"You're gonna be fine," Tony repeated. "We're all here. Well Abby's gone for food but she'll be back. Everyone else is here. You're going to be fine."
"Tony," McGee rasped weakly.
"Yeah?"
"Why do you keep telling me I'm gong to be fine?"
"Because you are."
McGee regarded him steadily then his eyes slid across to Ziva; one person in the room who would tell him the truth. Gibbs admired his strength: McGee knew that if he was going to die, Ziva would not only tell him but quote him an estimated time.
"What happened?"
"Car accident in the van," Ziva began efficiently. "You were in the back. It took us a while to reach you."
Gibbs saw Tony lower his eyes – it had taken them a while to even remember McGee's existence. A fact even madam iceberg declined to acknowledge.
"You have a broken arm, probable concussion, some neck damage and a number of internal injuries including a lung which is why your breathing is shallow. You lost a lot of blood but you've had a transfusion."
Tony let out a sigh and sank back in his chair in the mistaken belief that her summation had concluded. In reality, Ziva was reaching for McGee's chart.
"When you first arrived, you were responsive to pain but confused – unable to recall the day or events surrounding the accident," she read succinctly. "Your condition deteriorated until you were unresponsive to any stimuli. Then we go to surgical notes." She flipped over to the next page. "Your blood pressure and body temperature dropped dangerously low during the operation and you were in post-operative care for longer than expected. You became lucid though apparently a little frantic."
The corner of Gibbs' mouth twitched a little. When this was all over, he was going to tell McGee just how frantic.
Ziva replaced the chart and resumed her seat facing McGee directly. "When you came out around midnight, the doctor said the next 24 hours were critical. It's been 8 hours since and this is the first time you have regained consciousness. If you continue to maintain this improvement, you should make a full recovery but should you suffer any complications – say for example internal haemorrhaging from the operation or just from something they missed, then you should be dead before nightfall." She graced him with a tight smile of satisfaction for a job well done.
Gibbs cringed but McGee stayed rock steady digesting the information.
Slowly McGee's eyes travelled back to Tony. "I'm going to be fine, Tony," he rasped.
"Told you."
McGee's eye's slide shut again.
For a moment it seemed like the whole event never took place. Then suddenly Tony exploded at Ziva.
"What were you thinking telling him that?"
"He asked me."
"You didn't have to give him all the details."
"You are missing the point: he asked ME the question. Not you, not Gibbs: me."
"Cold," Tony surmised.
"Like ice." Ziva agreed.