A/N: I'm not really sure where I'm going with this anymore. I have a few ideas but I'm not exactly sure how to get to them so please, bear with me.

Tony looked around the small bathroom and spotted the paper towel dispenser. He didn't exactly like it right now but he didn't have much of a choice either. He ripped off a large piece of the paper towel and gently pressed it to the currently bleeding portion of his head.

He inhaled sharply at the pain the gentle action had caused.

Damn. He was now almost positive that he had a concussion as well as a gash God knows how large. He slowly straightened himself from his current slumped position leaning on the bathroom sink. He took a few tentative steps toward the door and was overwhelmed with nausea.

He immediately shut his eyes and tried to ease away the urge to vomit his guts out. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. What the fuck was he doing, he had a concussion he wasn't having an anxiety attack!

He decided the best course of action would be to call someone and have them help him.

Tony pulled out his cell phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Tony, I know you don't like doctors and you know that I'd never betray your trust, but I think you should get checked out."

The forensic scientist quietly informed her injured friend who was currently laying on her futon in the back of her lab.

"You promised me, Abby. No doctors."

Abby pouted. She never broke promises to Tony. They were close friends and she didn't want to harm their friendship. She also knew that he was currently going through a difficult time and she didn't want to hurt him further.

"Fine. No doctors." She mumbled as she left.

She already had an idea forming.

Tony lay on Abby's soft futon and was once again tempted to take a few painkillers he had in his pocket. He knew that he probably shouldn't but the pounding in his head refused to cease. He groaned as he slowly and carefully repositioned himself.

He slowly began to drift into blissful unconsciousness. His last thought troubled him.

Gibbs didn't know where he was, did he…

Abby bit her lip as she stared at the screen of her phone. She knew it was for Tony's health and she knew she was responsible to do so, but it still made her feel guilty.

She quickly pressed the speed dial and her call was answered on the first ring.

"Gibbs."

Gibbs was worri—pissed. He was passed worried now. He was pissed at Tony for not telling him where he was or where he was going. He had said that he was going to Autopsy and now he wasn't there. He had sent Ziva and McGee to find him and Ziva said she had seen him in the men's room. (Why she checked there instead of McGee, Gibbs didn't know.) Gibbs had then received an email and was distracted for all of two minutes and when he went to the men's room to talk to Tony – he wasn't there anymore. What he did find there troubled him, though.

He had seen fresh blood on the sink/counter.

He knew Tony was injured and he just hoped he wasn't hiding anything from him. It would be typical DiNozzo. Get a paper cut and whine about it for hours to the annoyance of everyone. Then, break a bone, get badly bruised, visit the ER for any reason – not say anything about it to anyone.

Gibbs growled slightly. Damn, DiNozzo.

His ringtone suddenly began playing and he grabbed his phone and quickly flipped it open to answer it. Please be, DiNozzo.

"Gibbs."

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter the next one will hopefully be a little longer. Anyway, as I was writing this I had a thought. I wonder what age people think I am through my writing. Often times, I am curious to the age of different authors I follow. I'm kind of curious as to how old people think I am. It would amuse me if people would tell me what they thought. :3 Anyway, enough ranting. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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