"The bullet went right into the spine, crushing the ninth thoracic vertebrae. The damage to the spinal cord is extensive, and even though we were able to stabilize the spot and stop the bleeding in surgery ... -"

He was cut off impatiently by Gibbs, whose heart was racing. "Is he gonna walk or not?"

Paxton was slightly taken aback, but quickly regained his composure and so he firmly said what every surgeon feared most to say.

Chapter 2

"No. I'm really sorry."

Gibbs let out a desperate growl and slammed his fist into the wall next to him.

Ducky turned pale and whispered a shaky "Oh dear".

The surgeon was still recovering from Gibbs' outbreak.

"The injury is complete, then?" Mallard asked.

Paxton nodded. "Yes."

"Anyone care to fill me in about what that means?" Gibbs yelled angrily.

"It means that the all the nerves at the injured point were severed completely, which cuts off every connection between the brain and the body parts below the injury." Ducky explained softly, knowing how much it would hurt Gibbs to hear it.

Paxton, apparently feeling obliged to add something as the real doctor in the scene, said it in a much more incautious way: "In Agent DiNozzo's case this means complete and permanent loss of sensation and movement below his waist."

These words hit Gibbs like a punch in the stomach. He was fighting hard to ignore the despair, the grieve and the fear building up rapidly inside him. Before he had a chance to recollect himself his cellphone started to ring and he absentmindedly pushed the answering button. "Gibbs!" he barked.

"This is Ziva."

Worst timing ever. Not Ziva. Not her. "What is it, Ziva?"

"Any news yet?" He could hear how she was trying to sound calm, but her exertion and fear could be felt almost physically.

"He's made it through surgery."

Ziva breathed out a short sigh of relieve, but the strain in her voice wasn't gone when she pressed on. "And is he going to be alright?"

It was too much for Gibbs. He didn't have the nerves, the guts, the words to have this conversation, not yet. "Ziva, I don't have time for this right now, and you have work to do. Is there anything else you want?" he yelled into the phone.

"Gibbs, just tell me how bad it is." She urged, almost pleaded.

He swallowed. "It's bad. Call me when you've got a lead about the shooter."

With that, he closed the cellphone with a snap and turned around, only to meet Ducky's eyes which studied him sadly.

In this moment something revived inside him; the feeling he needed now, like it was his only chance to not break down. "I have to get the bastard who did this. Duck, can you stay with Tony?"

"Where else would I be, Jethro."

"Call me if there's even the tiniest thing I need to know!" Gibbs said insistently but in a soft tone, before he turned and determinedly strode away.

Dumbfounded, Ziva stared at the beeping phone in her hand. "I hate it when he's doing this!" she then exclaimed exasperatedly. When she catched McGee's anxious, expectant gaze, the strain came back immediately. "This is bad. This is very bad, McGee."

"What - what did he say?"

Ziva shrugged wearily. "He said it was bad."

It wasn't the answer he had expected. "Gibbs said it was bad?"

She nodded.

"Oh that's not good", McGee murmured worriedly. "When Gibbs says it's bad it means that its like really, really bad."

Ziva shot him a weak told-you-so look. They fell silent, and it was minutes later that Tim said quietly: "When Tony had the plague, Gibbs never said it was bad."

"If you have any further questions don't hesitate to tell a nurse and they will page me immediately." Paxton said to Ducky, as he led him into the dimly lit room.

"Thank you, Dr. Paxton." Ducky nodded and waited until the surgeon had left.

Only then he looked at the huge bed, which was surrounded by wires, tubes and monitors, and in the middle of it, flat on his back, with the ventilator tube leading its way out of his mouth, across his bare chest, the man who usually was so filled with energy, with strength. The ME let out a deep, shaky sigh. "Oh, Tony."

He quietly stepped forward and sat down in the chair next to the bed. "It's probably a good thing that they are letting you sleep for a bit, my boy", he said sympathetically. "You will have to face all this soon enough."

Once more he sighed, before he spoke again. "I know you are very determined to pull through this, Tony. You are perfectly aware of how much Gibbs needs you; how we all need you, and you are a good person, Anthony, that is why you would never give up now, and if it's only for those who need you."

Ducky paused and looked at Tony intently, just as if he would get a response from the still form on the bed. He then slightly frowned and worriedly added: "You do know they need you, don't you? I know they haven't always been fair on you, Tony, which I'm truly sorry for. I felt for you every time they didn't show you the appreciation or gratitude you would have deserved. But you know Jethro... And I believe – I hope – you always knew how he meant it."

He leaned forward and laid his hand on Tony's.

"Tony. I've known Jethro for many, many years now, and there has never, ever been anyone who came close to being like a son to him. Except you."

He gave Tony's hand a final squeeze and then leaned back in his chair. After a minute of silence, which was only disturbed by the rhythmical pumping noise that meant breath for Tony's healing body, Ducky chuckled softly. "If Jethro knew I told you this, he would most certainly start to call me 'Dr. Mallard' again."

When Gibbs entered the lab, he almost got strangled by Abby, who hugged him with a determination which was extreme even for her. "Oh Gibbs. Oh Gibbs!" she yelled into his shoulder. "Air, Abbs", Gibbs pressed out of his mouth, patting her back.

Abby reluctantly loosened her grip and then anxiously looked at him. "Tell me!"

Gibbs didn't avert his eyes from hers, which, however, cost him a big amount of self control. "I brought you the bullet." he said.

For a short moment Abby just stared at him incredulously. Then she exploded. "You brought me the bullet?? I'm going nuts down here, not getting any information on how my Tony is doing, except first McGee saying that it looked bad, and then Ziva saying that all you said was that it was bad, which obviously means it's like really, really, really bad, and now you're walking in here and all you say is 'I brought you the bullet'? How can you, Gibbs-man!!"

Gibbs felt terrible. He knew he should have done better than that. But he felt strangely powerless against his own fear of the day's reality, and so he tried to escape her once again. "He's going to be fine Abbs.' he said softly, pulling her gently back into the hug.

Abby knew him well. She recognised the look in his eyes. Pulling back a little she searched his face. "Look me in the eye, Gibbs, and tell me exactly how he is really doing."

It wasn't that Gibbs didn't know how to lie. In fact, he was an expert when it came to hiding emotions or facts while still looking someone straight in the face. But this was Abby. He knew she didn't deserve this, she deserved to know about her friend and how he was really doing. Still, he just couldn't tell her what would eventually break her heart. "They stopped the bleeding and stabilized everything. They put him into a coma and will wake him up tomorrow." He fought hard not to avert his gaze under her intense stare.

Abby studied him suspiciously. "Is there any serious damage?" she then asked quietly, way too quietly for being Abby.

This was the point where definite denial was the only way to escape. Gibbs took a step away from her. "It's a gunshot wound, Abbs", he said, as if with that everything was explained. "What we need to know now is who caused it and that's why you are going to analyze this bullet now." His voice was losing its previous gentleness, the strain he had been able to hide until now causing a slight but clear edge in his tone.

Abby stared at him with a mixture of stubbornness and anxiety. "I know you're not telling me everything, Gibbs, and that's really not nice of you. I want to know what's going on with my Tony, now."

Gibbs glanced blankly at her before turning to leave the lab. "Just analyze the bullet, Abby."

She was quick. In an instant she had blocked his way, like she did so often, only this time it wasn't funny at all. "I swear, Gibbs, I'm not analyzing anything until you tell me what you're not telling me." Gibbs heard the slight tremble in her voice, which either came from her anger at him or from the fear of whatever he was hiding, or from both, and she was almost crying. He laid an arm around her shoulder and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. He lead her to the stool in front of her computer, and she sat down reluctantly, gazing up at him like a little girl.

"Tony's paralyzed, Abbs." Gibbs said so softly it was almost a whisper.

She didn't answer but just stared at him, speechless, hugging Bert.

"He's never gonna walk again." Gibbs wasn't sure if his voice had been able to stay steady, as he had lost control anyway. Telling Abby meant it was real. He knew there would have been ways to tell her less brutally, like saying that doctors could be wrong, or that Tony was going to walk, no matter what. But deep down Gibbs knew, with a heart-breaking certainty, that this would have been a lie. Telling the truth means you say it straight, the whole of it. That was what he had been taught.

Abby was now quietly shaking her head, her face wet from the tears that had begun to flow. "No", she said miserably. "It's not something Tony would do, Gibbs. He can't –", she pressed Bert even harder to her heart and the loud farting noise was accompanying her sobs. Gibbs held her in both his arms. "I know." he whispered. After a little while Abby's sobbing became softer and when she trusted her voice again she asked hoarsely. "Are they really sure, Gibbs? I mean doctors can be wrong, we know that, and this is Tony we're talking about, he survived the plague and all..."

There it was. Gibbs sighed and swallowed hard. She was looking at him with that pleading urge in her eyes, and not being able to make it better broke his heart. "Ducky has confirmed what the doctor said, Abbs."

Abby looked down, shaking her head again. "But Tony, he ... this is going to kill him, Gibbs." The thought made her cry again. Gibbs gently forced her to look him in the eyes. "No, Abby, it's not, because I won't let it. I promise."

It was only straws to clutch at; everything was still so bad that Abby felt like she could barely breathe. But there was Gibbs. And Gibbs had always meant hope to her. He would fix it, somehow, like he always did. "I think I will analyze this bullet now, Gibbs."

A smile crossed his face. "That's my girl." he said and, after giving her a final kiss on the head, turned to leave the lab. Suddenly Abby remembered something she'd almost forgotten to bring up; something very important: "Have you told McGee and Ziva, Gibbs?" she asked sharply. Gibbs interrupted his stride for a second, but then decided to ignore her question and walked on.

Abby threw her arms out exasperatedly. "They're his team, Gibbs! They have a right to know!" she yelled after him. But he was already gone.

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