Chapter 12

Having received further treatment and evaluation, the slightly battered remnants of the team sat slumped in the waiting room, anxious for news on their team leader and their friend. They had been greeted by Ducky and a rather stressed Abby. The pair of them had arrived at the medical facility shortly before the SAR helicopter had touched down and the survivors had been rushed inside, straight to ER.

After the check-up and being found to have suffered little ill effects, Midshipman Hugh Pellowe and his girlfriend, Lorraine Daring, had been picked up and taken to NCIS, where, the girl's parents were awaiting her arrival with anticipation. The skipper's presence had also been requested at the agency to give his testimony of the facts.

Thus, Ziva, Tony, Abby and Ducky found themselves left alone.

It was a long wait before a man in scrubs walked up to the little group.

"You're all here for Timothy McGee, I take it? Yes of course. We've already met... The "family", eh?"

He grinned understandingly before resuming his professional stance.

"Now then... Agent McGee... He's severely hypothermic. We have him on the cardiac monitor... Suffered from a host of complications. His pre-existing physical state of health...let me see..." he checked his notes. "...stress, exhaustion... Migraine?"

He looked up and the others nodded glumly.

"Seasickness, dehydration, combined with the medication he took for relief...and his lack of body fat...inhalation and digestion of seawater... All these predisposing factors would certainly explain the severity of his condition. We've had to defibrillate him and start peritoneal dialysis. The administration of heated humidified oxygen will be maintained via endotracheal intubation for up to 24 hours. Of course the Thermal Angel with normal saline fluid treatment through chest tubes will be continued."

He paused as he looked around the circle of tired, but anxious faces. He could go into even more detail but this would have to do. What was the use of giving them more information? It sounded bad enough as it was already. It would still be touch and go, but he wasn't going to tell them that.

For a moment, they were numb with the gravity of what their friend was going through.

But then, the physician was assaulted by a multitude of questions, all at the same time.

"And?"

"Is he gonna make it?"

"He can't die!"

"Is he gonna be all right?"

"What are the complications?"

The doctor, took a deep breath and raised a hand before answering.

"The most immediate problems have been taken care off. He's now undergoing surgery for his other injuries. After that, we will keep him monitored for pneumonia, pulmonary edema, cardiac arrhythmia's, myoglobinuria, thrombosis, seizures... I doubt you will want me to continue? He will be watched closely. These are early days yet, but he should make a full recovery – no lasting damage, except perhaps, some more sensitivity to cold. There's no telling if this will be permanent."

He smiled. He was experienced enough to know a smile still held hope for a positive outcome for a patient, even if, in truth, the doctors and the rest of the medical personnel strongly doubted a full recovery, let alone survival! Or, as was in this case, the patient was in for more life threatening complications. The young agent would sorely need all their support.

"Of course, he's still listed as critical and will have to spend at least this night at ICU – probably 24 hours. So you know the drill."

They nodded. Oh yes; and if they knew!

"And Agent Gibbs? How is his condition?" This question came from Ducky.

"Agent Gibbs suffered a moderate form of hypothermia and his condition is stable. Thanks to the good initial management in the field and the Thermal Angel treatment he received during the transport, he arrived at the hospital normothermic. This patient will be kept overnight for observation, possibly to be discharged tomorrow. Like Agent McGee, he'll probably have more cold sensitivity to his extremities."

His beep went off, and after a quick look at it, he excused himself and hurried down the corridor.

- -.-. -. . .

The team stood outside the glass separation wall at the ICU and looked at their comatose friend lying there, delicate, forlorn and virtually buried under a myriad of colorful tubes and lines protruding from various spots all over his pale, yet bruised, body. A ventilator supported his breathing, emitting the typical "click & whirr". They weren't sure if his stillness was due to the large bump on his forehead or the result of his near-drowning and hypothermia. Probably a combination of both.

They couldn't see the state of his leg, but they knew it hadn't looked too good.

He was naked but to offer some modicum of decency and respect, even if he was utterly unaware of his state because of his coma, his body was covered by a sheet from his hips downwards.

Once again, Ziva felt her heart constrict with deep emotion at seeing her friend like this. Feeling an arm snake around her shoulders, she leaned in the embrace. Tony. Who else? He had a knack of knowing exactly what to do in such situations. All bluster on the outside, but deep down, when it came to his Probie and Ziva, a great heart.

There were no words. What was there to be said, anyway?

Tony chanced a look sideways, trying to discern her face...gauge how deeply she was affected. He found her to be quiet. Way too quiet.

Giving her shoulder a little reassuring squeeze, he returned his gaze towards the still form.

That was his Probie, his friend, his bro, object of many jokes. He smiled wryly.

This was the man he deeply trusted and respected, even if he could never be too overt about it.

It hadn't always been like that and his thoughts went back to their first meeting. God, but did the then absurdly young rookie look such a nerdy baby! Just like a school kid trying to be on the good side of the teacher. Wide-eyed and so abjectly in awe of Gibbs that it was almost pathetic. McGee had been looking so hard for an approving eye from the Boss...and rarely getting it...no one really knew why. He'd been longing to be adopted by what he called the NCIS family, but all in vain... He would always be the odd man out and Tony had preferred it that way. In those early days, he'd even been jealous of the probationary agent. Nobody could ever replace Tony, remove him from his pedestal, and he would ensure that it stayed this way. Tony was like a son to Gibbs,ow as much as Abby was a daughter, and one would have to hold a candle to the sun to change that. This trio had never let anyone else in. Okay, there was Ducky, but that was different. Yet, it had changed. It took a while, but it did. Others had been there before Tim...and gone just as fast. Gibbs could be so intimidating. McGee was...more tenacious than you'd have given him at first glance. Nobody would ever admit he was a quitter. No. He stayed and endured all the hazing. He even remained unflappable as Gibbs kept up ignoring him. Tony was sure some of his own remarks must've hurt the younger man and Gibbs often unfair treatment, like finding in Tim the perfect scapegoat if anything happened to his precious Abby, would undoubtedly have affected him, too. His taking all this was a testimony of a much stronger character, hidden behind the timid puppy face, than anyone would have given him credit for. To most he was no more than the computer geek, the dork, the loyal dog...

Tony closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Damn... In hindsight, how could he have been so cruel to Tim? Why was he still behaving like a frat boy towards a young agent who'd more than proved his worth? Granted, McGee had paid him back in his own coin on occasion, but that had been a relatively recent thing, hadn't it? No, it hadn't always been like that.

A continuous beeping brought him out of his reverie and he felt Ziva stiffen beside him.

He flattened both hands on the glass and stared in horror as medical personnel, armed with more medical equipment, rushed into the room to surround a convulsing Tim, obliterating him from his friends.

Ziva brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream which had been building up.

Abby turned around and ran away. Ducky, due to his medical training, was not the least bit surprised by the turn of events; yet he was greatly affected by watching it happen to a friend and he stood transfixed on the spot.

"No," he thought, "they really shouldn't be seeing this."

His professional self took over and he gently took Ziva by the arm to turn her away from the scene, pushing her towards the door of the ward, before turning back to Tony.

"Anthony, please let's go. There's nothing we can do here."

"But..."

"Anthony? No 'but'. Come with me. Now." He was suddenly at his most commanding, brooking no objection.

"Ducky! Just look! Look at him! After all we...we...," Tony finally turned to him, anger and fear waring on his face and in his voice, "we did...and they did...he may still be dying! What if he dies?"

"We're not supposed to see this, Anthony." Ducky's voice had softened considerably.

"I can't leave him."

"While I admire your stubbornness and your friendship, I have to insist you come with me, my lad."

"Tony..."

Ziva...

"Please, listen to Ducky. Come with us. They will let us know as soon as they...they're..."

Very reluctantly, he turned his back to the scene and, with a final glare towards Ducky, he stomped out of the ward, back to the waiting area where a sobbing Abby raised from her seat and stepped up to meet him for a hug.

He rudely declined and continued his way down the corridor, through the double doors and out of sight.

Ziva slowly walked over to the goth, opening her arms to a now also baffled Abby who tearfully accepted.

Ducky sank down in the nearest chair, feeling more than just his age.

So here they were back again. Waiting...and waiting...and some more waiting...

He sighed and dug out his phone to give the Director a call. After all, the man had been held up at NCIS and deserved some news. Whatever or what little news there was.