You know how the longer you work on something, the more you get the feeling that it's just completely wrong? I'm currently restraining myself from deleting the whole thing and just writing the chapter again when I get back next week. But, I resist. R&R, y'all!

(See chapter one for introduction.)

Chapter Two: Blood Trail

Ziva stared after the ambulance, the paramedic's forgotten flashlight hanging limp from her hand. "Gibbs, I am sorry," she said, regret heavy in her eyes. Her arms and chest were covered in dark red. "He fired at me, and I hung back. I lost him."

Gibbs quelled the rage boiling in his stomach. Someone had targeted Timothy for a reason unrelated to the current operation. Sighing, he turned to Ziva. "It's not your fault. He must've been damn good to outrun you." Ziva's mouth twitched at the compliment, as both he and Ziva snapped out of it and made towards the car.

"Yes, but why McGee? Just because he was by the back entrance?" Ziva's expression became harder. She really wanted to have caught Timothy's attacker after seeing the damage that had been done. "The assault seemed unnecessarily vicious if one simply wanted to use the back entrance. He had a gun- one bullet would have been enough."

"There were more wounds?" Gibbs asked, his suspicion confirmed. The handcuffed informant between them began to protest but Gibbs, without pausing in the conversation, gave him one hard shake. The man then chose to keep his mouth shut.

"We only saw his tongue. It was cut through and bleeding quite a bit," Ziva answered and climbed into the back to hold the criminal. "We should go straight to Bethesda, Gibbs." She glanced with a disdainful look at the handcuffed man. "This suspect is injured as it is. I will call for LEOs to meet us there and take him into custody after he is treated- ahh!" Gibbs took off without warning, well above the speed limit in a few seconds. Ziva said through gritted teeth as she pulled out her cell and dialed, "All right then. I am glad we have a plan."

Gibbs also took out his cell phone and called a number without taking his eyes off the road. "Hey, we have a crime scene behind Mccormick's that needs to be secured. One my agents was attacked and we couldn't afford to stay at the location."

There was a burst of sound from the other end, and Gibbs swerved, getting around a car and speeding ahead of it. An icy tone entered his voice that made Ziva raise her eyebrows. "Well, when someone on my team was bleeding out in an alley and we had a dangerous criminal in custody on our hands, I couldn't afford to leave someone at the scene. I'm aware that a broken chain of evidence can let a murderer walk. But this isn't going to be a murder. How quickly can you get to the scene?" Gibbs listened for another heartbeat then hung up, apparently satisfied.

Ziva continued to speak for a moment on her phone, then hung up with a quiet 'Thank you.' Bethesda came up on the right, and they stopped at a haphazard angle in front.

Gibbs took off ahead of Ziva, saying only, "Secure him. I'll find McGee and Dinozzo." Ziva nodded and watched the older man run off. She then looked to the suspect again and glared without even speaking. If this man had not been selling agency secrets and flaunting his earnings, then Timothy would not have had to have been behind the restaurant. He would not have been attacked- at least, for the moment.

Dragging the man behind her, Ziva found a security guard and placed the man in his hands. She flashed her badge. "NCIS has just apprehended this man, and he now needs hospital care." She did not notice or care how the bluntness of her statement seemed to place blame on them for the injuries. "He is very, ah, slippery. Some local officers will be here shortly to retrieve him. Please do not leave his side. Here is my number. He is being charged with numerous federal offenses and is responsible for several deaths- all you need to do is watch him until the LEOs arrive. If there are any issues, call me immediately."

The security guard, staring at her grotesque, bloodstained front, only gave a silent nod. Ziva nodded back in thanks and marched off to the front desk. On the counter front were two distinct handprints in blood that smeared off to the left. Gibbs must have run in that direction.

Ziva leaned against the counter. Though most people were not very accustomed to the sight of a young woman covered in blood approaching them with flint-hard eyes, the head receptionist was unfazed. Once again, Ziva flashed her badge. "I am looking for the NCIS agent that-"

"Just ran through here? Or the one that wouldn't let go of the gurney? Or the one on the gurney?"

"All of them."

The receptionist flipped the page on a clipboard. "The injured agent is currently in the OR. The other two should be in the waiting room outside the OR, down the hall to the left. There's also a bathroom on the way." The older woman gestured to her arms and chest. "You may want to stop by there."

"Thank you," Ziva said and walked away, glancing down at the offending article as she went. To herself, she added a frown of consideration, "It is not that bad." She strode down the hallway, feeling all at once alone despite the number of people she passed. How should she feel? Anger was expected- frustration and resentment at this dangerous attacker. Anger was powerful, anger was good. It was either that or detachment.

But this was McGee. A team member and close friend that she had worked with for years. She had lost team members before, but in NCIS, the loss was more than that. It was as if death on the job was the exception, not the expectation. But she dealt with things differently. Logically. They were so much more- emotion-driven here.

Ziva looked up and saw Gibbs standing by the corner, talking quietly on the phone. Tony sat near him, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Neither had yet to wash the blood off themselves.

"I know, I know, shh… " Ziva's ears perked up at the odd tone in Gibbs' voice. It was so… fatherly. Warm. Comforting. Ziva was surprised to find a pang of jealousy in her gut. "They're saying he has another half an hour of surgery. Can you drive here? All right. We'll be here. Abby, Abby, take a deep breath. I don't want you driving if you're like this because it won't be safe." Gibbs turned around, sensing Ziva's eyes on him. "Hold on a sec." He motioned her over.

Taking a deep breath, still unsure of how she should act, Ziva reported to him. "Webb is taken care of. What is, ah, the prognosis?" Gibbs looked across the room to the hall blocked with glass doors reading the message, 'Authorized personnel only.' Somewhere in one of those rooms, Timothy was under the knife.

Gibbs covered the phone. "He has a fifty-fifty shot of survival. If he survives the next twelve hours, they think we'll be out of the woods." He turned his attention back to Abby, murmuring in that unfamiliar soft tone. Ziva sat next to Tony, who did not look up,but continued to stare at the floor.

After a long silence, Tony finally said, "He woke up in the ambulance. He was… terrified. Couldn't talk of course, but he was so scared." Shadows passed in his eyes. "I think he knew who attacked him. I tried to get him to calm down, but he could barely see me he was so distracted. Crying. I just- just held his hand and talked. Longest five-minute drive of my life, Ziva." Tony stared at his bloody hands. They were shaking. "Damn Probie, he barely- barely got started."

Ziva felt another sudden twist of unexpected emotion. She felt the urge to comfort him. It was not his fault that Timothy was injured, it was not any of their faults, but that would not change how wrong it would be if he did not make it. In Tony's vulnerable moment, Ziva decided to listen to her instinct to help.

"It is all right, Tony," Ziva said with only a bit of difficulty. This heart-to-heart thing was rather new. "I do believe our McGee will make it. He is too stubborn to give up, and what would we do without him?" Tony gave her an odd look, both intrigued by her attempt to reassure him and desperate to believe her words. "No, McGee will be fine, and once we find his attacker, he will get the justice he deserves."

Tony continued to stare, and Ziva felt that she might have said something wrong, until, finally-

"Thank you, Ziva."

It was as if he were seeing her from a new angle. He remembered when Gibbs had been injured and her apparent indifference to the incident. Perhaps she did not want to make the same mistake twice. Perhaps she was just learning that she could express her feelings without being weak.

Gibbs interrupted the moment. "You two, go get cleaned up. When McGee gets out of surgery, I'm going to stay here and guard him. I want you two to go home."

At once, Tony and Ziva jumped up. Tony got his word in first. "Boss, I'll stay."

"I will also stay. We are on the lookout for McGee's attacker to return, yes?"

Gibbs glared, and their protest withered. "Tony, I want you to go home and get cleaned up. Get me a change a shirt, too, and stay on the first shift with me. At three, Ziva, you better be here to relieve Tony. We'll start an official detail tomorrow but for now, this'll have to do. Now I'm gonna find some coffee, and you two are gonna get cleaned up." They stared at him. "Now!"

"Yes, boss!" they chorused and ran off. Gibbs watched them vanish into their respective restrooms and sighed. He would wait for them to get back in case Abby arrived, so that someone familiar would be there to greet her. The moment of solitude, however, allowed dark thoughts to rise in his head and weigh down his heart.

"McGee," he muttered to the unconscious man in a room far away. "You're such a good kid. You better fight. You better fight through this." Gibbs was speaking in reference to the surgery and the struggle to heal that would come afterwards where things like infection and complications would be uncertain, but he would soon realize that Timothy had many more tribulations to come, ones scarier than a gunshot to the chest.

There you go! Now, I'm a be gone for a week, but depending on the response this gets, I'll probably update right when I get back! You readers rock my socks.