Chapter 8

Ducky put up an optimistic front for Jimmy's sake, but he was worried. Gibbs had given details to the hospital staff that they hadn't heard. It tallied with what they had surmised. The men had come upon them while they were tracking stolen munitions. There had been a scuffle. Tony and Ziva had been on the receiving end of some harsh treatment, but Tim's injury had been, by far, the worst...and basically accidental. While subduing Tim, the one Ducky had identified as Chas had flung him against a tree with an unfortunately-placed branch. Tim's cry of pain had taken them all by surprise...even their captors. A piece of the branch had broken off in his back, and they had ripped it out, which hadn't helped. All that had been done for Tim was to stop the bleeding. Otherwise, nothing. Tim had gone downhill quickly and had been delirious for a full day before he had escaped.

SIRS, sepsis, septic shock...mortality rates went up as the condition became more serious. They were just waiting to find out what the doctors had discovered. Knowing that, even though they had got Tim medical aid, he could die kept Ducky from relaxing enough to sleep. Jimmy was dozing beside him. Looking at his protégé, Ducky couldn't help but smile, even in the midst of his worry. It was amusing that they had both come up with the same solution to their plan of attack. No matter what came out of this, Jimmy had a done an amazing job of taking care of Tim, and he had taken that responsibility seriously.

A doctor came into the waiting room and looked around. It was now close to 9 a.m., less than 12 hours since the car had broken down.

"Who is here for Timothy McGee?"

Jimmy came awake instantly, looking around blearily.

"Time to go?" he mumbled.

Ducky smiled.

"We are here," he said. "Mr. Palmer, the doctor is here."

Jimmy rubbe alreadyd his eyes and shook his head, trying to wake himself up.

"Oh...sorry, Dr. Mallard. I fell asleep."

"Perfectly allowable, Mr. Palmer."

Ducky stood and walked over to the doctor. Jimmy followed after as quickly as he could.

"Timothy?" he asked.

"It's serious. I won't pretend otherwise, but the infection hasn't progressed as far as we were afraid it had. We've started him on broad-spectrum antibiotics and we're analyzing the infection in his wound to see what others we'll need. He's on vasopressors to raise his blood pressure, and we're giving him oxygen support. The next couple of days are going to be the deciding factors as to whether or not he pulls through."

"What are the odds?" Jimmy asked.

"He could still make it fine. There was some internal damage from the initial wound. We've given him a blood transfusion. The main issue is that he went for so many days without treatment. It gave the infection a chance to worsen and spread."

"What is the mortality rate?" Jimmy asked.

The doctor nodded in acceptance of Jimmy's insistence. "Mortality rates range from 15 to 25 percent. We're hopeful that he'll pull through. It's just going to take time to see."

"Okay."

"If you want to come back and see him, you can. Technically, visiting hours haven't started yet, but I'll allow it for now. What about his family?"

"I think we will have to call them. I don't know if others will have done so. We'll find out."

"All right. Come on back."

Ducky and Jimmy walked back to the ICU. It was quite small and Tim was the only patient there at the moment. He was pale and still. IVs, monitors, oxygen...there was no question that here lay a very sick man. Jimmy looked at Tim silently. Ducky touched his arm and gestured for him to sit. Ducky took a seat beside the bed. He felt Tim's forehead. There was still a fever.

"Is he going to be okay, Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy asked, almost plaintively.

"I don't know, Mr. Palmer. We shall have to wait and see. I am still hopeful."

Jimmy swallowed and nodded.

"While we are waiting for some sign, I believe we were interrupted in our game," Ducky said.

Jimmy looked at Ducky, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Huh?"

"We were playing 20 questions, were we not? I had asked three questions."

Jimmy smiled a little.

"Do you remember what your object was?"

"Yeah."

"Very well. Is it found in a hospital?"

"Sometimes."

"Interesting answer. Is it fabric?"

"No."

"Is it plastic?"

"No. That's six."

"Metallic?"

"Yes. Seven."

"Bigger than a bread box, sometimes found in a hospital, made of metal. Is it a machine?"

"No. Eight." Jimmy smiled.

"Not the machine that goes 'ping' then," Ducky said and was rewarded with a chuckle. "That's not a question."

"Okay."

"Would it be one of the tools of our trade, then?"

"Yes."

"Ah, I see."

Tim began to stir, distracting them from the game once again. He was murmuring unintelligibly and then, his eyes opened and he started trying to get up. Ducky was there in a moment.

"No, Timothy. Don't try to move. You need to stay where you are and be as quiet as possible."

"They're...they're coming...gotta get away...come back and help...gotta..."

"Timothy, stay still and listen to me."

Tim's eyes were glazed but they did generally look in Ducky's direction. He was sweating just from his minor effort.

"Get the doctor, Jimmy," Ducky ordered.

Jimmy nodded and hurried over to the nurse's station.

"Timothy, everything is all right, now. Jethro and Anthony and Ziva are all free. The men who captured you have been either killed or arrested. All is well. You only need to focus on recovering from you injury. It was very serious and you need to give yourself time to heal. Do you understand?"

Tim blinked at him for a few seconds. In that short time, Jimmy returned with a nurse. Tim's doctor had been called.

"What's your name?" Ducky asked the nurse.

"Alisha," she said.

"Timothy, this is your nurse. Her name is Alisha. You are safe in the hospital."

"Mr. McGee, I'm just going to check your vitals and make sure the infection isn't spreading in the wound on your back, okay?"

Tim was clearly trying to absorb everything that was being said to him, but he wasn't quite getting it. Ducky leaned in close to him, intent on getting Tim to relax and calm down. The less he excited himself, the better off he'd be in being able to recover. There were plenty of other problems to worry about. They didn't need to worry about Tim trying to get back to the MCRT as he found so important to do.

"Timothy, they are safe now. All of them are safe. You don't have to worry about them, now."

That was the important point, he realized. Tim didn't care whether or not he was safe. What mattered was whether or not the ones he had left were.

"Do you understand?"

"They're...okay?" Tim whispered.

"Yes. I promise you."

Tim's eyes moved from Ducky to Alisha to Jimmy and then back to Ducky.

"Where?"

"They're finishing up. They'll be here. They've been worried about you."

"Promise?" Tim asked.

"Yes."

As Ducky had hoped, Tim's heart rate started to slow. It was still elevated, and his breathing was still not quite what they'd like to see, but as he calmed, some improvement from his previous state could be seen. He lay back and let Alisha check him over. Tim's eyes flicked back and forth between Ducky and Jimmy, as if he was waiting for them to disappear or something. His doctor arrived before Alisha finished her check.

"I heard that you'd joined us, Timothy," he said. "I'm Dr. Zeeman. I'm in charge of getting you back to full form."

He pulled out his stethescope and listened to Tim's heart, not perhaps, because he needed to, but to reassure Tim who was still lying there, unsure of what was going on. His confusion was clear.

"Now, I just need you to relax, sleep and let us do all the leg work for you. All right?"

Tim nodded, but it wasn't really an expression of agreement. It was just because he knew that was the expected response.

"Don't worry about a thing. You're in excellent hands."

Tim stayed awake for another ten minutes and then he slipped back into sleep. Dr. Zeeman encouraged them to stay so that Tim could be instantly calmed if he woke up in the same state of confusion later on.

Jimmy still seemed bothered by everything, but he didn't complain about staying. Ducky knew that, eventually, they'd both need sleep. They'd both need to take a break, but he couldn't begrudge Jimmy the opportunity to stay and perhaps see some improvement in someone he'd tried to save. That was a special moment for anyone in the medical profession. No matter whether or not Jimmy chose to continue on his track toward being a medical examiner or went the more conventional physician, he still had that same desire to help. It didn't matter whether the desire was fulfilled in preserving life or in explaining life lost.

"Is it the freezer?" Ducky asked softly.

Jimmy jumped a little and looked at Ducky.

"What?"

"Question nine, Mr. Palmer. Is it the freezer?"

Jimmy smiled a little. "No."

"Is it...the autopsy table?"

"Yes. That's it. Ten questions."

"Not bad."

"Nope. Not bad. Your turn."

"Ah...let me think." Ducky cast about for an idea and settled on something completely innocuous. "Go ahead, Mr. Palmer."

"Is it bigger than a bread box?" Jimmy asked with a smile.

Ducky grinned. "No. It is not."

"Is it alive?"

"No."

"I hope you're not talking about McGee."

The voice was low and unexpected. Ducky turned around. The MCRT was all standing in the doorway, looking worn out and uncertain.

"I'm not, Jethro," Ducky said with a smile. "Timothy is not...well, by any means, but he is alive and is moderately better than he was. How is your case?"

"Vance was apparently contacted and threatened a number of times. They'd been looking for us...but they didn't know where to look. The three who survived are under arrest."

"Three?" Ducky asked, looking at Jimmy.

"Yeah. Three."

Jimmy looked at Tim and then at Gibbs. "Did I kill him?"

Gibbs nodded.

"He was going to kill Tim. I wouldn't have done it otherwise."

"Yeah," Tony said. "And we're glad you did."

Jimmy swallowed and didn't say anything.

"I think Timothy will be relieved to see you all here when he wakens again. Mr. Palmer and I will take some time to rest. Has Timothy's family been contacted?"

"Vance was going to do that. They'll know."

"Good. Are you all doing all right?"

In truth, they looked ragged.

"We're okay," Tony said. "Nothing that a few nights' sleep won't cure...and a shower."

"If you would like to..."

"No," Ziva said, firmly. "We would like to be here for a while. We are clean enough."

Ducky could see that they wanted to see Tim wake up more than anything else. He got up and gestured for Jimmy to do the same. Jimmy got up and walked out of the ICU. Ducky followed him.

"Mr. Palmer...Jimmy."

Jimmy stopped. "I killed someone, Dr. Mallard."

"Yes. To save another."

"I killed someone."

Ducky walked over in front of Jimmy to stop him from walking again...and he was surprised to notice how much taller he was. He had forgotten that his protégé had quite a few inches on him.

"Yes, you did, Jimmy. But you did it to save Timothy's life. It is hard to realize that a man's life has been ended at your hands...no matter what, but you can't let yourself forget the reason for what you chose to do."

Jimmy took a breath and looked as upset as Ducky had ever seen him.

"I wasn't trying to kill him. I was just trying to get him to stop, but I was so afraid that I wouldn't make it."

"Fear gives you strength you never touch at any other moment."

"I don't ever want to touch that again."

"I don't blame you. Not one iota."

Jimmy smiled a little. "Does this feeling go away?"

"Yes. It does. If you let it, and you have too much of your life ahead of you to hold on to the feeling rather than let it go."

"What if Tim dies anyway?" Jimmy asked. "What if it doesn't mean anything? He could still die!"

"It will always mean something, Jimmy," Ducky said firmly. "You saved Timothy's life, even if his injuries become too much for him to recover."

Jimmy swallowed and nodded, but he didn't look convinced.

"Don't give up on Timothy yet. ...and don't put yourself down. You and I were tossed into a situation we were ill-equipped to deal with and we were able to make our way through it."

"You didn't seem out of sorts."

"I was. I'm just better at hiding it."

Jimmy suddenly laughed.

"What?"

"I wish Abby were here."

Ducky smiled. "I'm not Abigail, but..." He gave Jimmy a one-armed hug. "Let us both rest and recover, Jimmy. It is too early to give up."

Jimmy nodded and the two of them walked to the front desk, asked for help in finding a place to sleep and then went to a nearby hotel. As worried as they both were, they were both asleep moments after they were able to lay down on a horizontal surface.

Ducky just hoped that all would go well.