The snow piled deeper and deeper around him. He was so cold – this was an otherworldly cold. He rode along, his tauntaun faltering from time to time despite its being accustomed to the harsh climate of the ice planet, Hoth. He knew the wampa was coming, before he even felt the swipe of the creature's powerful claw.
He awoke to find himself hanging from his feet inside the wampa's lair. He already knew how it would end. He would use the force to get his light saber, then free himself. And he wouldn't freeze either. Tim would be there. He'd ride in, slice open the dead tauntaun, clean out the innards and pull the both of them inside. Tim would save the day, Han Solo style.
Now he knew for certain he was dreaming. Because he should be Han Solo. Tim was definitely more like Luke Skywalker. Would that make Ziva Princess Leia? The incongruity of such an idea was enough to make him stir in his medically-induced slumber.
"How is he, Doctor," Abby asked as she entered Tony's hospital room. "Is he waking up?" she asked, noticing Tony mumbling, his head moving back and forth.
"Ah," Doctor Murphy said, taking in the sight of Abby, Ducky and Director Vance filing into the room. He focused on Director Vance and began to speak. "Mr. DiNozzo has…"
"Agent DiNozzo, doctor," Vance corrected automatically, just as Gibbs might have, had he been there.
"Of course, no disrespect intended," the doctor continued. "As you know, the injuries sustained are quite severe. In addition to the hypothermia, he suffered multiple stabs and lacerations, several blows, both with fists and with some sort of blunt instrument, some minor burns…" He trailed off, not wanting to give too much detail in front of Abby. He gave her a look out of his peripheral vision, noting that she seemed focused solely on Agent DiNozzo rather than on what he was saying. "Agent DiNozzo was definitely tortured. The wounds were placed in order to cause as much pain as possible without taking his life. Toxicology also reported a significant amount of psychotropic drugs in his system, most likely used for interrogation purposes, and…"
"And also the most likely reason Anthony cannot remember precisely what transpired," Ducky filled in.
"Exactly. I know you had already observed the damage done to him before you brought him in and, in fact, your ministrations most likely kept him alive. This young man must have quite a bit of steel to have made it as far as he did in his condition. The exposure to the weather alone could have killed him."
"Agent DiNozzo is one of the best," Vance added.
"I'll keep you apprised of any changes in his condition," the doctor continued. "Now, more than anything, he needs rest so he can heal, both mentally and physically. We need to limit his number of visitors – one at a time and for no more than twenty minutes."
"What if someone just sits with him and doesn't disturb him?" Abby interjected. "I mean, would that be okay? He seems so alone and he's been hurt and his father isn't available and…"
"That would be fine, Ms. Scuito, but please endeavor not to do anything to disturb him. Due to the nature of what has happened, he will be very anxious to remember details that his brain is currently keeping from him. Be sure no one puts pressure on him in any way to remember; it could do more harm than good," the doctor warned not only Abby, but the others as well.
"But he will remember?" Abby asked. The left side of her lower lip disappeared as she pulled it between her teeth, as she often did when she was worried.
"We honestly don't know," the doctor answered with a sigh. "It's possible he could wake up and remember everything. It is just as likely he will never be able to recall everything. Most likely he'll remember bits and pieces. The effects these kinds of drugs have on the mind are very unpredictable, and differ from case to case. There is no way we can know how things will play out."
"We understand, doctor," Vance replied, taking control of the situation. He turned to the others.
"Abby," Vance said and then sighed at her expression. He needed her working this case, but it was obvious to everyone in the room that she didn't want to leave. "Stay with Tony until he's released. But if he isn't awake by the time Ziva and Tim get back from gathering evidence, I need you to hightail it to the lab."
"Of course, of course! I need to find Gibbs. I just…can't leave Tony when there's nothing I can do right now anyway!" Abby assured, giving Vance a sideways hug. "Thanks so much; you won't regret it!"
"Please, Abby," Ducky admonished. "Keep your voice down, dear."
Abby turned toward Tony and gave him an apologetic look, then turned the same look on the doctor. "I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."
"Call a nurse when he awakens," the doctor instructed as he took his leave.
"Yes, sir," Abby called after him.
***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS*** NCIS***
"I can't believe how much blood there is," Tim said, for about the thirtieth time.
"There is certainly no problem discovering the path Tony took from where he was left to the road," Ziva agreed.
The two had been sent that morning to photograph the site where Tony had awakened, search for clues and await further information. The call they had received from Vance just after they had found the blood trail left them feeling grim and less than optimistic. Apparently Tony had no memory of the events that led to him awakening in this bleak, wooded location, barely alive. Subsequently, they were no closer to knowing who was behind the abduction or where they could find Gibbs.
"Tire tracks," Tim confirmed, as he snapped photographs. "He was definitely dumped."
"There may be a lot of blood, McGee, but not enough for his torture to have happened here," Ziva scolded.
"I knew that," Tim defended, "but now we have proof."
"Unless some of this blood or some of these clothing fragments do not belong to Tony, I do not think we're any closer to knowing where to find Gibbs," Ziva complained.
"I'm sure Abby will find something."
"She is certainly driven to do so," Ziva remarked.
"I think we all are," Tim reminded, walking the perimeter one final time in order not to miss anything that could potentially be a clue. "Surely some of this will lead us back to Gibbs," he added hopefully.
"Abby won't be able to get much from photographs of tire tracks in snow as deep as this, McGee. Do not get your hopes up."
Tim sighed and took a few more shots of the surrounding landscape, not wanting Ziva to see how much her negativity was getting to him. He knew she would say she was being realistic rather than pessimistic, but at this point he had trouble seeing the difference. They had to get a break some time.
"I cannot believe that Tony remembers nothing," Ziva said with frustration, running her hand over the knit cap that covered her hair, which she had pulled back into a tight ponytail.
Tim pulled his coat tighter around him. Although it was lined, it was a small barrier against the biting wind. "Let's get this stuff back before we freeze."
***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS***NCIS*** NCIS***
Blood pooled on the floor at his feet, along with strands of his own silver hair. More blood dripped from Gibbs' body, which had already been pushed beyond what a man should bear. Spittle, not his own, dribbled down his face and chest and mixed with his own drool, which he could no longer control. Urine and feces soiled what remained of his clothes and ran down the lower half of his body. The moisture would make the electricity even more painful, or so his torturer kept telling him.
He refused to acknowledge any pain or give voice to anything other than concern for the one who was now missing. What had they done with him? Gibbs knew there is no way he would have given them any information, even if he could have, yet for some reason they had moved him…or worse, killed him. Gibbs gathered all the energy he could from his exhausted body and spoke. His voice crackled, and sounded like a cross between a growl and a whimper. He whispered one word: "Tony."