Don't End with Blood

Chapter 5

Tony guided his car onto a familiar driveway and after a few moments of slow driving an equally familiar house came into view. He pulled up in front of the house, put the car in park and turned off the engine, contemplating the silent structure as he did so. It had been more than four months since he had been here, but that wasn't all that surprising, considering that the owner of the house hadn't been in residence for nearly as long.

With a small shake of his head Tony opened the door and climbed out of the car, scanning the property with a critical eye for any unexpected change. The gnarled trees near the barn had lost both their leaves and fruit since his last visit, and the bare ground around them still held a touch of the previous night's frost. The long, low boxes which had held the raised-bed gardens were now free of the plants that had been Tim's pride and joy over the summer and a source of many of the ingredients in the recipes the team had enjoyed along with him...until the accident that had almost ended his life.

Tony shuddered slightly as he remembered that horrible moment, and the many anxious hours and days that had followed. Even after Tim had finally woken up he hadn't been out of the woods. Tony had returned to the hospital the following day only to be told that Tim was in isolation due to pneumonia and an infection in his damaged lung. When he had finally been allowed a glimpse of his partner, sweat-soaked and struggling to breathe, Tony had been hit with the horrible memories of his brush with the plague and had nearly succumbed to the urge to run.

But he hadn't.

Tony had tamped down his own fears and convinced the staff to allow him to visit, offering support and encouragement to Tim during his fight, an effort that had been worth it when the younger man had survived the ordeal. As Tim had started the long and arduous journey toward recovery, in the hospital and later at the rehabilitation facility, Tony had served as his cheerleader, offering support and encouragement to help his friend deal with the pain and frustration of recovery.

And now, finally, all of that hard work had paid off: Tim was coming home.

After scanning the yard around the house, and noting that it had been well cared for by the Fisher family's rather eccentric handyman, Tony made his way to the front steps. He chuckled when he saw evidence that he was not the first person to think of preparing the house for Tim's return. A new wooden ramp covered the steps, creating an obstacle-free path from the driveway to the front door. Tim still relied on a walker for stability so the addition would be much appreciated, and it did not surprise Tony that Gibbs had anticipated the necessity of what he had installed outside Tim's home.

Tony fished the spare key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door before stepping inside. The house had the feel and smell of a dwelling that had been unoccupied for some time and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He knew he'd better get a move on if he expected to get the house ready for Tim's homecoming so he decided to do a quick survey of the house to see what needed to be done first.

The library and living room furniture were covered with sheets so he pulled those off, coughing slightly as the dusting clinging to the sheets was disturbed. He took down the curtains (also dusty) and carried everything to the laundry room and deposited them in the washer before checking the rest of the rooms.

The refrigerator was off and had been cleaned out by someone, most likely Tim's neighbors. A note on the counter confirmed that, and also indicate that the vegetables from Tim's garden and the fruit from the orchard had been canned or frozen and was waiting for him in the cellar and freezer in the garage. Tony made a mental note to bring some stuff up from downstairs after the refrigerator was cold again. He plugged the refrigerator and the other appliances back in before going to collect the rest of the linens to throw in the washer.

Once the first load had been started, Tony went back upstairs to open the windows, intent on airing out the mustiness of the house while he took care of the cleaning. A couple of the windows were difficult to open but after a few minutes of tugging (and swearing) he managed to force them open enough to let the cool late-fall air in. He returned the the first floor to open the rest of the windows and then started the rather daunting task of dusting, polishing the antique furniture, and vacuuming the rugs and floors downstairs.

Two hours later he finished the downstairs, wondering briefly why he hadn't recruited some help. After a short break and switching a second load of laundry from the washer to the dryer he headed upstairs to clean. When he reached the guest room, he was surprised to find the windows that he had fought to open were closed again. Wondering why he hadn't heard them fall, he struggled to open them again and propped them up with a couple of hardback books he found in the computer room.

He finished cleaning the guest room before moving on to clean the computer room, the bathroom, and the master bedroom and bathroom. Deciding the upstairs was sufficiently aired out, he started washing and closing the windows. When he stepped back into the guest room he let out a small squeak of surprise. The windows were shut again and the books that had held them open were sitting on the floor.

"OK. Windows stay shut. Got it," he muttered as goosebumps broke out on his arms and neck, which he tried, somewhat successfully, to shake off. Spending as little time in the room as possible, he quickly washed the windows before returning to the laundry room to fetch the now-clean curtains, which he quickly re-hung in all of the upstairs rooms. After re-making all of the beds upstairs (he suspected Tim would be having Penny hang around for a few weeks) he returned to the lower level to check on the laundry.

Finally the cleaning was done, the curtains we back in place, and the bedroom on the first floor was ready. Tony checked the refrigerator and after determining that it was cooling down as it should he decided to go down to the cellar to retrieve a few canned goods that the neighbors had provided and check the status of Tim's food supply before making a run to the store.

He flipped the switch at the top of the stairs and the bulb at the bottom sputtered to life, casting a dim light in the space surrounding it. Tony made a mental note to get a new bulb before he descended the stairs and walked across the packed dirt floor to the far wall where shelves full of jars stood. He read the labels and selected some salsa (and made another mental note to pick up some chips), zucchini relish, applesauce, apple butter, and something labeled "chow chow" which looked like a mixture of several types of chopped vegetables. He was considering grabbing a second jar of applesauce when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind him. He spun around, nearly dropping the jars in his haste and stared, uncomprehending at the area in front of him.

There was no one there.

"Hello?" he called out, wondering if he had misjudged the location and someone was walking around the level above, but there was no answer. He carefully adjusted his grip on the jars and carefully walked across the basement to the steps, noting that the only footprints in evidence were his own. He hurried up the steps and into the kitchen, but there was no sign of a visitor. He carefully placed the jars on the counter and went to search the rest of the house, calling out for whoever it was to identify themselves, but he found no evidence that anyone else was in the house.

He checked outside and after finding no other cars in the driveway he went out to check the garage and then the barn. He was alone.

The sun had started to sink towards the horizon as he made he way back into the house. Deciding that he really didn't want to be there, by himself after dark, Tony quickly checked the freezer in the garage and the pantry to see what he would need to add to the grocery list. After finding a pad of paper and a pen in one of the kitchen drawers, Tony jotted down a few items, expecting to add a few more after he decided what he would make to serve Tim for his first meal at home.

Tony made one last quick check of the house before he locked the back door, turned off the lights and made his way to the front of the house. Just inside the front door he stopped and stared at the small table that stood next to it, trying to comprehend what he wasn't seeing.

"Damn it, where in the hell are my keys?!"

XXX

"You ready to get out of here?" Tony asked as he strolled into Tim's room, a grin plastered on his face. Tim was sitting in a wheelchair, already dressed in loose-fitting jeans, button up and sweater and was holding a small duffel bag on his lap. He looked up at Tony, confusion flashing across his face before he returned the grin.

"You have no idea. Where's Penny? I thought she was taking me home?"

"She called me last night and told me her flight was cancelled. She'll be getting in tonight but she wanted to make sure you weren't stuck here for another day. I was happy to fill in."

"Thanks. They should be back with my discharge papers in a few minutes."

Tony eyed the wheelchair. "I thought you graduated to the walker."

"I did. Center policy, everyone gets one last ride out of here." He pointed to the walker, folded and leaning against the bed. "Do you mind grabbing that for me on the way out?"

"No problem." He walked over and sat on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Tim shrugged. "They told me I won't be cleared for desk duty even until after the first of the year. Otherwise…OK, I guess." He looked down at his legs, the lower half still encased in braces. "I'm getting there." A worried look crossed his face. "I'm still not very good at navigating steps. Getting in the front door might be a challenge."

"Already taken care of. Gibbs built you a ramp. A temporary one."

Tim blushed. "He didn't need to do that."

"Of course he did. He's Gibbs."

Tim chuckled. "I'll have to find some way to thank him." He met Tony's gaze. "I'll have to find a way to thank all of you."

"Well, Thanksgiving is next week, and I suspect Ducky and Ziva had already planned an invasion. Let them take over the kitchen for a couple of days and that should do it."

"Maybe."

Before Tony could respond a woman in a white lab coat walked knocked on the open door and stepped into the room, a stack of papers in hand.

"Mr. McGee, I take it your ride is here?" Tim nodded. "Good. I just have a few forms for you to sign, and some instructions for you." She glanced at Tony. "Is it alright if…?"

"It's fine. He'll pass the information on to my grandmother." Tony smiled and nodded and she began reading off the care instructions, most of which Tony already knew after spending as much time as he could with Tim while he was healing. When she was finished and Tim had signed all of the forms a nurse arrived to take him to down to the entrance of the care center. Tony grabbed the walker and followed behind, glad that this part of Tim's recovery was over.

When they reached the lobby, Tony hurried out to get his car and by the time he returned Tim was waiting at the curb. Tony helped his partner into the car and once everything was stowed they headed for Tim's house. Tim leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes as Tony navigated the streets that led towards the highway. While they were sitting at a stoplight Tony took some time to study the younger man. He was surprised to discover a few threads of grey at Tim's temples and they lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened slightly, making him appear older than he had before the accident.

"What?" Tim asked, his eyes still closed.

"Nothing."

"You're staring. You're not talking, and we're not moving, so you have to be." He opened his eyes and met Tony's gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just...glad to see you sitting there in the passenger seat again."

Tim stared at him until the light changed and Tony had to focus on the road ahead of them. After a few moments he replied.

"Probably just as happy as I am to be sitting here again."

"Yeah, I can imagine."

Tim was quiet until they got out of the city. After they were in the interstate, he spoke.

"It was bad, wasn't it?"

"You were there, Tim."

"But I don't remember anything. You do."

"Yeah. It was bad. I thought...I thought there was no way you survived that crash. I ran to the car and I expected to see you dead. But you weren't. You were damn lucky, Tim."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"For what?"

"For being there when I woke up."

Tony chuckled. "Guess I lucked out on that one."

"Guess we both did."

Tim closed his eyes again and soon Tony heard soft snores coming from his partner. He smiled and continued driving towards their destination.

Tony stopped at a grocery store a few miles from Tim's house and see that he was still asleep, Tony left his friend in the car while he hurried in to grab the items from his list. He knew the rest of the team would be arriving that evening to welcome Tim home and he needed to contribute to what would undoubtedly be a feast, so he loaded the makings for lasagna into the cart along with a selection of necessities. Thankfully the lines weren't long and the cashier was reasonably efficient and he made it back to the car before Tim knew he was gone. He did wake up when Tony climbed in the driver's seat and blinked a few times in confusion.

"Where are we?"

"Grocery store. Just picking up a few things for dinner."

"You don't need to do that."

"Yeah, I did. Your cupboards are bare."

"Oh."

"Well, except for the jars in the basement your neighbors left. They took care of your garden and orchard."

"Guess I need to find some way of thanking them, too. How's Maddie?"

"She's been saying with Mikela, who will bring her by once you're home. You can add her to the 'thank' list, too."

"It's getting to be a long list…"

"Yep. That happens when…you've got a lot of people looking out for you."

"Yeah...I know."

Tony just grinned and started the engine.

When they reached the house, Tim insisted he didn't need help getting inside. Tony ran ahead to unlock the door before walking behind Tim as he slowly made his way into the house. He opted to stay in the living room and settled into his favorite recliner, breathing a sigh of relief as he raised the footrest.

"Home sweet home?" Tim smiled and nodded. "I'm going to go unload the car."

"OK."

It didn't take Tony long to finish his task and he carried the groceries into the kitchen, frowning when he saw one of the cabinet doors standing open. He was sure he had closed it the night before. He quickly stowed the groceries and went to check on Tim, who was asleep again. He carefully draped an afghan over the sleeping man before he retreated to the kitchen. He had one large and two smaller pans of lasagna ready to go in the oven when the doorbell rang. He quickly wiped his hands on a dish towel and hurried to the front door. He grinned when he saw who was standing on the front steps.

"Mikela. McMaddie. Tim will be happy to see you." He reached down and scratched Maddie behind her ears. She swiped his hand with her tongue in return, her ears pricking up when she heard a familiar voice call out from the living room.

"Tony, who's at the door?"

Mikela grinned as Maddie tugged on the leash and followed the excited dog into the living room. Tim's face lit up when he saw the newcomers, his attention focused on the little Australian Shepherd bouncing at the end of the leash.

"Maddie!"

"Easy, girl," Mikela commanded as she let Maddie reach her owner. The dog whined and cried with obvious joy as they were reunited and Tim's eyes were wet by the time she had calmed down enough to sit beside his chair with her chin on his knee.

"Missed you, too," he whispered as he stroked her head. "Thank you, Mikela, for taking care of her."

"My pleasure. She's no trouble to have around. We've been keeping up with her training, so… How are you doing?"

"Getting there."

"That's all you can ask." She turned to Tony. "If you guys need anything…"

"I'll let you know. Thanks, Mikela."

"No problem. I better get back. Be good, Maddie." Maddie just grinned and closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the attention she was getting from Tim. Mikela grinned in return and headed for the front door.

"Hang on a minute," Tony requested and hurried back to the kitchen, soon returning with a fool-wrapped pan. "It's not much, but… Thanks."

She chuckled. "It's what neighbors do. See you later, Tony. Oh, by the way." She opened the door and pointed to a familiar figure standing near the barn. "You have a visitor." Laughing, she carefully took the pan and headed for her car as Tony groaned.

"Tim. Houdini's escaped again." He heard a quiet laugh before Tim responded.

"Darlene's number is on the fridge."

"Got it." He found the number, pulled out his phone and dialed. "Mrs. Kirby? This is Tony, Tim's friend. Harry is paying a visit again. Thanks." He went out to wait for her to arrive and when he saw her coming across the fields he grabbed the second smaller pan and went out to greet her. After she and Harry had left Tony returned to the house to find Tim still sitting in the chair petting his dog.

"Everything OK?"

"Yep. Consider part of the thank-yous covered. I sent them home with a pan of lasagna."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate that." He looked around the room, his forehead creasing in confusion before his eyes widened. "Did you...clean my house?"

"Yep, and before you thank me, I will collect: movie marathon, every weekend we're not on call until you're back in the field."

"I can handle that."

"Good. I made lasagna for us, too. Everybody's coming by later for your welcome home party."

"Oh. Let me guess: Abby?"

"It was her idea, but nobody argued. Are you up to having visitors?"

"Yeah. I'll try not to fall asleep. It's still hard not to, sometimes."

"Well, you're still healing. We'll cut you a break."

"OK."

"Be back in a minute."

Tony returned to the kitchen to put the lasagna in the refrigerator and pulled out deli meat, cheese, and condiments and grabbed a loaf of bread that was still sitting on the counter. Soon he had two plates of sandwiches and chips ready and carried the to the living room.

"Do you want to eat in here, or…?"

"I can make it to the kitchen." Tim slowly levered himself out of the chair and shuffled down the hall to the back of the house. Tony set his plate on the counter and Tim settled onto one of the stools. They ate in silence and Tony had finished his sandwich by the time Tim spoke again.

"I appreciate this, Tony. Everything you've done for me over the past few months."

"That's what friends or for."

"Not friends," Tim replied and Tony's eyes widened. Tim met his gaze and smile. "You're much closer than that. All you guys. I wouldn't have made it..."

Tony couldn't help but grin as he finished his chips. "But you did. And I...we are grateful for that."

"Me too." Tim looked around the kitchen and laughed softly. "I still can't believe you cleaned my house."

"And I can't believe you live here by yourself. It's creepy."

Tim raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Tony told him about the windows, the books, the footsteps, and finally the keys. Tim listened, a knowing smile on his face.

"But what does it all mean? I mean...am I crazy, or what?"

"No, Tony, you're not crazy." Tim chuckled. "It means that, as far as this house and its residents are concerned, you really are part of the family."

The End

Family don't end with blood, boy. - Bobby Singer, Supernatural

Well, that's one WIP down and...way too many to go. *headdesk*