Chapter Three

The hot water from the shower cascaded over him, Tony felt better now, refreshed after a few hours sleep in his own bed. Gibbs had been true to his word and sent him home from the hospital.. Abby had taken his place at Tim's side, and Tony knew the others would be taking turns when work allowed.

He'd come home; kicked off his shoes and fallen onto his bed. Sleep had come instantly, and he awoke in exactly the same position six hours later. He was still wearing the scrubs Jimmy had borrowed for him, he felt dirty and his mouth was bone dry. His first instinct was to telephone the hospital, but Gibbs had told him he would call if there was any news.

So Tony headed for the bathroom, after brushing his teeth and shaving, he'd hit the shower and started to feel almost human again. He towelled himself dry and got dressed quickly; it was then that he noticed the bag of wet clothes at the foot of his bed. He must have thrown it there this morning when he got in…Tony picked it up, his NCIS jacket and his pants would have to go to the cleaner's, the shirt…he could get it cleaned, they'd probably be able to remove the blood-stain; but he knew he would never want to wear that shirt again, too many bad memories. Tony went into the kitchen and threw the shirt in the trash…

Memories…like the alarm sounding and being told to wait outside Tim's room while the medics did their job.

He'd been leaning against the wall, how much longer? They'd told him to wait outside while they worked on Tim, and the waiting was driving him crazy…He shouldn't have fallen asleep, what was the point of sitting with Tim if he couldn't even keep his eyes open?

The door had opened and a nurse walked briskly toward him. "Excuse me, is your name Tony?"

"Yes…"

She gave a quick smile. "Good, he's asking for you, come with me."

Asking for him? Tim was awake…Tony hurried into the room; Tim's eyes were indeed open, and they were fixed on the door, as soon as he saw Tony, he slumped back onto his pillows.

"You see Agent McGee; I told you he was fine." Doctor Solanki beckoned Tony closer to the bed.

"Your friend here was worried that you had been hurt, he's been fighting the ventilator, that's why the alarm sounded." The doctor leaned closer to Tim. "You'll have a few minutes, then the pain meds will kick in, don't fight them, you should be sleeping. Don't let him exert himself, and he really shouldn't be talking, he needs rest."

"You got it Doc." Tony waited until the others had left the room. "Tim, you have got to stop scaring me like that, when I heard the alarm and the medics came rushing in…"

Sleepy green eyes focussed on Tony, and Tim's breathing hitched a little when he saw the dressing on Tony's neck. He tried to lift his hand to point, but his fingers seemed so heavy…Tony spotted the gesture, and the glance. "This…it's nothing, I've had worse shaving…Tim, the doctor's right, you should sleep. You don't have to worry about a thing, just get well…"

Now that he had seen Tony with his own eyes, and seen that he was okay, Tim's energy seemed to drain from him, he was tired, and he hurt…all over…but most of all, he was tired…

Tony took his place in the chair again, and gave a deep sigh of relief. He had been convinced that Tim had been having some kind of crisis; that he would have to call Gibbs and the others, tell them…tell them what? That he'd been a stupid pig-headed fool; that he'd ridden rough-shod over the perfectly sensible request from his partner to wait for backup, and because of that…Tony leaned back and this time he hadn't closed his eyes. Tim was off the ventilator, he was getting oxygen through a nasal canula, but he still looked too pale, Tony smiled…he often teased Tim about how pale he looked, but compared to how he looked right now his usual skin tone was a healthy tan.

There were scratches and bruises on his arms, Tony hadn't noticed them before, Tim must have got them as he was being carried along in the water. Tony saw the dark bruises encircling Tim's wrists and couldn't suppress a shiver as he remembered the handcuffs; Tim must have struggled so hard, trying to stay alive. Then he saw the large bruise forming on Tim's chest…Tony looked down at his own hands, he'd done that, thirty beats…over and over, and he'd hurt Tim even more…

"Tim, I'm so sorry…I'll make it up to you, I promise."

The room was much quieter now, without the hissing of the ventilator, and Tony sat for another hour, content to watch Tim sleeping. Then the others had arrived, calling in at the hospital on their way to work; and Gibbs had ordered him home. Tony didn't want to go, but he'd made a promise, and he knew Gibbs would hold him to it. But there was one thing to do before he left. Tim's doctor wanted to talk with them all, give them an update on his progress, and there was no way Tony was leaving before he heard what the doctor had to say.

Doctor Solanki hadn't pulled any punches, he knew how easy it was for a near drowning victim to relapse, and he wanted to be sure that Tim's friends knew how grave the situation remained.

"Tim is off the ventilator because he was struggling against it, and there was a risk that he could cause further damage, it turned out he was worried about his friend, but there is often a risk with near drowning victims that they feel as if they are choking…and obviously that causes panic and distress which further hampers recovery."

"But Timothy is breathing unaided now, without further problems?"

"He is Doctor Mallard, as to further problems, you know as well as I that I can't make any promises at this stage. Don't forget that it isn't simply the submersion we have to worry about; Tim lost a lot of blood, and the ferocity of the attack fractured one of his ribs, which caused the liver laceration, that injury alone will take a long time to heal."

They had sat together, almost silent as Doctor Solanki outlined the serious problems that still lay ahead for their friend, there was just the occasional quiet question from Ducky. As he had driven home Tony's head had been spinning with medical jargon, IV antibiotics, IV nutrition, peak expiratory flow rate, haemoglobin levels, haematocrit…

That had been eight hours ago, and now Tony was heading back up to the ICU, ready to take over and be there if Tim woke up.

"Hey Ducky, how's he doing?"

"About the same Anthony, but that's good…his vital signs are all holding steady, and so far there are no signs of infection. How are you now, you look a little better I must say."

"Feel it Ducky, guess Gibbs was right about the sleep."

Ducky smiled. "Jethro very often is right, though he doesn't always follow his own advice." He gave Tim's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll leave you in Tony's capable hands Timothy, good night. Do you have everything you need Tony?"

"I'm good Ducky, Gibbs is coming back later, and if I need a drink I can always get something from the machine down the hall. You go home; I can definitely recommend sleeping in your own bed."

Ducky was gone, and Tony was taking a good look at the monitors, although why was anyone's guess, after all he didn't have a clue what they were measuring, but everything looked…settled, and he figured that had to be a good thing. Then a couple of the lines started to look different, and he heard a quiet groan. Tim's face was contorted in pain.

"T…Tony…"

Tim's voice was barely audible, but Tony did as he'd been told, if Tim woke up, press the call button. "Hey Tim, you're supposed to be sleeping."

Tim slowly turned his head toward Tony. "You…okay?"

"Told you yesterday, I'm fine…now stop talking or Ducky will have my hide, he said you have to rest. Is the pain bad?"

Another grimace as the heat intensified. "Hurts…"

Tony glanced anxiously at the door, where were they? "Someone will be here soon Tim; here, squeeze my hand if it helps."

Tony took hold of Tim's hand, another spasm of pain hit him and Tim held on tight. "I got you Tim, don't let go…"

Through clenched teeth Tim gasped a single word. "Byard ?"

Tony smiled grimly. "He's dead."

"You?"

"Yeah, and if I'd known what he'd done to you I wouldn't have made it so easy on him."

A nurse bustled into the room and checked Tim's IV. Tony felt the pressure on his hand again, and Tim's eyes focussed on him. "Make…it stop…please…"

"I wish I could Tim…"

The nurse leaned over Tim's bed and gave him a reassuring smile. "Breathe through it Tim, just another second or two and the meds will start working."

Sure enough almost as she finished speaking Tony felt Tim's grip relax, he was asleep once more.

Tony glanced away from Tim for a moment, and asked the nurse. "Can't you do anything to fix that?"

"I know it's distressing to see him like this, but there will be times when the pain medication wears off, and the new dose hasn't kicked in. That's when Tim will feel the full force of the injuries he's suffered. Given time, as his body starts to heal, this will happen less and less."

"I hope you're right, I hate to see him hurting so much."

She smiled once more and made a notation on Tim's chart. "He should sleep for a few more hours; if he shows any signs of distress, I'm just a call away. It may be hard for you to see it, but he is doing better you know."

The nurse was gone and Tony gave a slight shake of his head as he continued his vigil. Better…then how come he looked so sick?

"You're going to make it Tim, you hear me…that's an order from your Senior Field Agent; and when you're out of here I'm going to help you every step of the way. Whatever you want, whenever you need it, you and me, we'll get through this together."

Tony settled back to watch Tim, to be ready if he woke again, if he needed a reassuring hand…he couldn't get out of his head what Doctor Solanki had said earlier that morning, it was one of the few phrases he'd understood completely, one that contained no medical terminology; just the hard truth of what Tim was facing. The doctor had told them. 'Waking up is easy; it's the recovery that's hard.'