Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. It belongs to Bellisarius Productions and its associates. All I ever owned here was the story and the OCs.
Gibbs kept digging despite the intense strain on his arms. Ziva and Tony were at either side of him, using their bare hands hurriedly to part the mud. They were close. The wan blue color of the lid was visible. Gibbs' heart pounded loud, caused by both exhaustion and anticipation. The tip of the shovel clicked against the lid as he burrowed it deeper.
Tony descended towards it and kept removing the excess soil. "Hang on, Probie," he breathed out while he sought for the edge of the casket. Finally, when he found it, he quickly forced it open.
McGee's face, he saw, was alarmingly pale, save the pool of red at the side of his head. His eyes were closed as if he was just sleeping. Above all, his chest was immobile. Tony thought that he was only imagining these. He was too tired to notice that McGee was alive.
Ziva watched as Tony and Gibbs struggle to get McGee out of the casket. Even if one of them slipped, the other continued to hold on. She wanted to help them, but found out that she couldn't. She was cemented. Seeing McGee's head lull lifelessly to the side reminded her of other people who were exactly like him. Michael. Ari. Thalia. All of the people who she held close to her heart, gone. Tim needed not be with them, but it appeared that it was too late.
"McGee, wake up. Tim," Gibbs said after kneeling beside him, lightly shaking his agent's motionless body. Even if the cold raindrops collided with his lukewarm cheeks, McGee didn't move. "McGee. Come on." He sought for a pulse. First, on his neck. Nothing. He checked his wrist next. He stopped.
Tony and Ziva waited for Gibbs to declare that McGee was fine, that they made it in time. They were successful in saving him. However, between the heaved breathing was only a remorseful silence. Gibbs looked up at them quietly and then, he shook his head. No pulse.
Tony kicked the ground lividly. "No," he muttered, pushing the word through his gritted teeth. "Probie." There were countless of instances before when McGee have saved him from an absolute end, and he thought that it was unfair. He had been unfair, because the only time Tim needed his help, he failed to save him.
"He is not dead," Ziva said then stood up. "We can still save him."
"Ziva," Tony said.
Ziva made her way towards McGee. She kneeled beside him, and checked his pulse again. She was met by stillness. She lifted his chin, tilted his head backwards, opened his mouth and then, she breathed air into him. Yeah. It means I'm not the newbie anymore, she recalled McGee telling her on her first day working at NCIS. She pushed down on his chest several times. I'm just glad you're alive, he told her when they were in Somalia. She listened to his breathing. There was only silence. She breathed into him once more. "Tim. Come on," she said.
"Ziva," Tony held her arms gently to stop her, then took her away from McGee's side. "Ziva, it's not—"
Coughing. It was muffled, but there was someone coughing. All three of them turned to McGee and saw that his eyebrows were creased as he grasped for the cold air that blanketed the cemetery. "Tony. Call an ambulance," Gibbs commanded, determined not to tear his eyes away from the young man.
Tony nodded with hesitation, unsure on whether he should follow the order given to him or stay by McGee's side.
"Tim? Tim, can you hear me?" Gibbs asked.
"Y…Yes…" McGee breathed out, although it was doubtful that he have regained full consciousness. "I'm just…"
"Do not try to speak, Tim," Ziva said, a relieved smile gradually permeating through her face. "Save your energy."
"I…n-need to ge…get out," McGee insisted.
"You're already out. There's no need for that," Gibbs said. "You're safe now."
McGee coughed violently for a moment, and it created a stir for Gibbs and Ziva. Then, he eased up. "Tha…Thanks," he breathed out, directing his words towards Gibbs. "Thanks, Jenny."
………………………………....
The lighting inside McGee's hospital room was dim. It only revealed the sterile bed and the patient that slumbered calmly on it. The green floor underneath it, dreary and placid, only lied in expectation. Blinds abound the wide windows facing the hall, although they were opened this time so that the room could be seen clearly outside.
Gibbs stood in at the other side of the window, watching as Abby and Ducky enter the room. He was unable to hear what they were saying clearly after they closed the door, but it was evident that Abby, after taking a quick glance at McGee, was close to breaking down. Walking by her side, Ducky led her forward.
"I never thanked you for saving my son, Agent Gibbs."
Gibbs did not have to turn around to know who it was. "You owe it all to Ziva. Not to me," he answered.
Matthew McGee smiled wearily. "I've already told her that we were," he said. He glanced at Ziva, who was currently being hugged tightly by his wife. "Your team was Tim's second family, and you made sure he was fine." He scoffed wryly. "Unlike me. I should've been there when it happened."
"You were where you were supposed to be," Gibbs said, still focused on McGee, Abby, and Ducky. "If any of you got into any trouble, that would've made things harder." Matthew nodded solemnly, his gratefulness undiminished. "What did the doctors say?" Gibbs asked.
Matthew sighed. "He's out of danger, they're sure of that," he answered, all of a sudden sounding exhausted. "But they're not sure what effects did being buried underground had on him. They said they won't know until he wakes up. It could be something, it could be nothing."
"Something?" Gibbs repeated.
"Brain damage," Matthew answered, slightly wincing at the mention of the words. "They said that it was a possible effect because of the lack of oxygen."
Gibbs thought of the idea as ridiculous. But then again, there was a part of him that insisted the possibility of this. McGee did call him Jenny, but it didn't serve as an evidence that he was loosing his mind. He was responsive, and that was enough reassurance that he would be fine.
He knew it would be so.
Once again, he scrutinized the whole room. Abby had enveloped McGee's right hand with her palms, while Ducky stood with a sad smile on his face. He noticed that rain was still pouring because of the small space between the two still curtains. The heart monitor beeped dutifully inside the room, the colorful lines on the screen climbing up and plunging down rhythmically. The corner chairs, worn out by bearing both the various visitors and their possessions, rested silently.
And a long-stemmed black rose, full of its melancholy and loveliness, lied in wait atop the gleaming night stand.
I know that some of you might not have liked this ending, but it's the best I could come up with. I'm sorry… =(
Anyways, thanks for all of you who read this, who put this on your favorites, who put an alert and most of all, left a review. I cannot say thanks enough!
Drop a review for me and tell me what you think! =D