Thank you, guys. Even with a boring chapter (Well, I thought it was boring.) you guys still give encouraging reviews. *Hugs*

Note: The adoption thing in here, I know that it's totally implausible, just try to overlook it and keep going.

Chapter Ten

Pain.

That's all there was as Tim shed his unconscious state. One groan couldn't express the amount of agonizing pain he was in, though he let a soft one out anyway. His groan mixed slightly with a, he was not proud to say, pathetic, pain-filled whimper.

"I hear you're feeling good too, huh Probie?" Tim could almost see Tony smiling at him.

"Never better." Another breath was cut short by his broken ribs, and he whimpered again in quite an unmanly manner.

"Tim?" Tony glanced over to Tim's prone form. "You okay?"

"Fine."

"Look on the bright side."

"There's a bright side?"

"Look," Tony waved his hands in front of him. "Our hands are tied in the front now!" Tony said with enthusiasm, a large grin on his face. Tim laughed slightly, though it was tinged with slight hysteria, his body shaking slightly. He halted suddenly, and gave a muffled cry in the pain that the movement caused. Tony crawled shakily over, his vision swaying a bit and then steadying. "McGee?" He reached out his tied hands and softly, almost fearfully, prodded Tim. Tim turned to Tony and a strained smile slipped onto his face, in spite of his pale appearance.

"So, how are you?" Tim's smile fell away even as the question left his lips as he glimpsed Tony's face. Though covered in shadows, the deep, dark bruises stood out harshly on his face. His eyes were slightly glazed over. Wonderful, the only other capable fighter there was now injured also. Probably had a concussion.

"Great."

"Liar."

"Calling the kettle black, eh pot?" Tim snorted began to laugh a bit, through more stress relief than actual amusement, but went into a violent coughing fit.

"You're...you're..." Tim fruitlessly tried to catch his breath, but only succeeded in delving headfirst into another coughing fit, more vicious than before. He could feel Tony helping him into a crouching position and awkwardly rubbing his back. Tears of pain rolling down his cheeks, he was finally able to draw a constricted breath. "You're killing me, Tony."

"Not me."

"I think I'm going to be sick." Tim said faintly. Pursing his lips slightly, Tony braced himself and moved himself out of Tim's line of sight as Tim convulsed and lost the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much, on the ground. "Sorry." Tim breathed out as soon as could speak.

"You look like Hell, McGoo."

"I feel like it." Exhausted, Tim slumped flat onto the floor; not even expressing the pain the movement caused him, and shut his eyes. Tony also leaned back against the wall, and pressed the palms of his hands against his forehead, trying to dull the headache that has begun to form. Head throbbing mercilessly, his thoughts moved more sluggishly than normal. The rope began to scrape his forehead; he pulled away from the irritation and looked to Tim. He really did look terrible, his face unnaturally pale, marred with fresh purple bruises, and a few large cuts, his features were drawn with pain and had new worry, and distress lines. Poor Probie, at least he wasn't conscious.

"I wish I had a Cheeseburger right now." Tony even surprised himself with that comment. Random, or perhaps not. It had been quite a few hours since they had eaten.

"Ah, no food talk please." So Tim was awake. Tim squeezed his closed eyelids together, forming a queasy looking expression. "I'd like some pain medication." Tony half smiled, but then caught sight of the contents of Tim's stomach that he recently evicted from their residence. He paled.

"That's not good."

"What?" Tim opened his eyes. "What else could possibly go wrong?"

"Blood."

"What?"

"You...you threw up blood." Tony couldn't keep the concern from his face nor the slight fear from edging his voice.

"Well, maybe things could get worse."

o-o

Gibbs wearily rubbed his eyes and looked in irritation to the empty coffee cup on his desk. Unlike cats, his glare did nothing to the coffee cup. Looking up from the coffee cup, Gibbs surveyed the office. A member of the cleaning staff patrolled slowly around emptying garbage can and a panicked and green looking Agent from another team was rushing to finish paperwork. But aside from them, the office was empty save Gibbs and Ziva, who had fallen asleep on her keyboard.

Gibbs sighed and half glanced at his watch, 4:30 am. They had stayed there all night. He could see glimmers of the sun beginning to appear over the horizon, staining the sky a light pink.

"Good morning, Sir." Gibbs glanced up in slight surprise at the voice, and the 'Sir' that accompanied it. Davies set down a cup of coffee in front of him and then one in front of Ziva, who rose wearily and grasped the cup. After taking a sip of the coffee, Gibbs decided to let the 'Sir' slide. The Officer was close behind Davies, a cup in his own hand.

"So either of you got anything?"

"Nada. Your agents, Hart and Parkinsom seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth." The Officer looked in slight pity to Gibbs, he had lost subordinates before. An out of breath Abby appeared around the corner, a piece of paper in one hand, her platforms in the other. Spying the team, the Officer and Davies, she rushed over, a triumphant look in her eyes.

"Gibbs!" She shouted, but then lowered her voice as the janitor and green agent jumped. "Gibbs! Gibbs, I got something." She stopped and hugged him. She pulled away. "Though shouldn't you have known that? What happened to your ESP skills?"

"You had something, Abbs?" Gibbs tried to guide her back on track.

"Yes, I found a possible location that Hart and Parkinsom might have taken McGee and Tony to."

"What?" Ziva had perked up from behind Gibbs.

"Yeah! Parkinsom's grandfather owns a cabin in the woods. And I checked some recent satellite footage, someone's staying there. And the grandfather's dead."

"No, I checked her file. Both grandfathers are still alive, Abby." Ziva raised an eyebrow at Abby, as if daring her to contradict her.

"That's where it gets to the good part. She was adopted." Abby grinned.

"That was not in her file."

"Exactly, do you want to know how I found it? See there were these minor discrepancies so I decided to check with-"

"Abby!"

"Skipping to the juicy bit, el Magnifico. See he left it to her in his will, but it was under her given name. So it wouldn't show up on her file, if her adoption wasn't on there. They must have never filed for an official adoption." She then held up the piece of paper. "The address." Gibbs gave her a stunning, but brief smile and gently plucked the paper from her hand. He placed a gently kiss on her cheek.

"Nice work." He uttered softly.

"Bring them home, Gibbs. Please." She whispered back. He gave her a small smile.

"Let's go!" He called to Ziva, Davies and the Officer. Ziva had a vengeful smile on her face, excitement and nervousness glinted in Davies' young eyes, and the Officer's face only adopted a grim look. This could go terribly wrong, he looked to Davies, he had never been into a situation like this before.

"I'll call for backup." The Officer called to Gibbs as he followed him into the elevator.

"Be careful." Abby muttered under her breath.

The elevator door shut.

o-o

Tim and Tony stared at each other for a few seconds, each unwilling to break the silence. Finally, as both men knew would have to happen, the silence was broken. But not by either of them, the door slid open, emitting a soft squeal. They both looked up, Hart entered the room, but something was different. Perhaps it was the way he carried himself, Tim couldn't place it.

He bent down and set down two water bottles, and then straightened up. He turned to leave and Tim raised his eyebrows at Tony, who shrugged.

"Hey!" Darn it, Tony! Tim wished he could reach out and kick Tony without inflicting some pain on himself, why can't he just stay quiet? Hart turned at Tony's voice, an irritated expression crossing his face before leaving it as expressionless as before. Tony held up his tied hands and gave a winning smile. "It's a little hard to handle a water bottle with tied hands." C'mon Tony, only an idiot would- Tim's thoughts were interrupted as Hart produced his knife and came over. He quickly cut the ropes on both their hands. Tim glimpsed his belt, of course he felt okay taking off their bonds. He had, not only his knife, but one of their SIGs. Not to mention that they were both injured.

Even Tony seemed surprised by this seeming change in their luck, until he too spotted the gun. Tim saw his lips tighten ever so slightly and disappointment flash across his eyes, though his expression showed nothing.

"So, why you hanging out with this psycho chick?" Hart paused in the doorway his back to them. Tim swung his leg and kicked Tony as hard as he could. Tony gave him a cheeky grin, darn it. Hart still hadn't moved. "So what? Money? Blackmail? Lust? Love?" Hart moved slightly at the last word, an almost unconscious tick of the head. "So love?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Tim chuckled softly, and then began to wheeze slightly at the loss of breath and stab of pain. Hart turned.

"Seriously? My last girlfriend used me and then tried to kill me." Tim managed to breath out. Tony looked to him, surprised and slightly concerned. Hart gave him a strange glance.

"I didn't kill those two men. The guards were an accident, and so was your Navy man. I didn't mean to kill them."

"We can get you a deal." Tim half glanced at Tony, amazed at how fast he changed from lighthearted teasing to a serious field agent, negotiating their lives. There was no kidding in his voice, no amusement of any kind. It was just firm and confident. "Help us out of here, turn yourself in, testify against Claire Parkinsom and you might get a reduced sentence. It's this or you're going get life." Hart then gave a soft smile, or perhaps it was just a trick of the shadows cast over his face from the rising sun.

"I can't do that." He stepped over the threshold and closed the door. Tony deflated. He pressed the water bottle to his head, the aching becoming worse over time. Distracted suddenly by another hiss of pain, he looked to the source. Tim had pulled himself up into a sitting position, his face drawn in the agony it had caused him, any color his face had gained back was now gone.

"Still the ribs?" Tony questioned. Tim nodded. Tony slipped off his jacket, and began to fold it. Tim's brow wrinkled. Tony caught the action and smiled slightly. "I told you, I've had broken ribs before. We have to wrap them to keep then stable." Tim swallowed.

"I...I'm sure I'm fine just the way I am." Tim wasn't anticipating the pain this would cause him. He'd had broken ribs before too.

"Don't be such a girl, c'mon!"

The Officer looked to his speedometer and gave small curse. He hoped Gibbs didn't drive this fast normally. He heard a swallow besides him and glanced to the passenger seat.

Davies, holding tightly to the side of his seat and the handle on the ceiling, was watching the road fly by. The Officer smiled slightly.

"You okay, kid?"

"Fine." Davies gave him a queasy looking grin, and turned his attention back to the road. The Officer followed in suit. The car in front, containing the NCIS agents, turned sharply to the right. The Officer, a small smile on his lips, spun the wheel violently to the right to follow them. He could hear Davies knock into the car door and glimpsed his freaked out expression. He could only hope the passenger of the car in front of them was faring better.

Gibbs gripped the steering wheel tightly, Ziva was surprised his fingernail hadn't torn the leather yet. She wasn't surprised, however, when he pressed the accelerator again. She would be driving just as fast, or even faster, had she'd been in the driver's seat. But again, she could only watch. In anticipation, she pulled her gun out of its holster and began to take out and then put back in the magazine, with a snap. Gibbs gave her an exasperated glance mixed with slight amusement.

"It is alright, the safety is on." She gave him a small grin and cocked the gun menacingly.

"Ziva,"

"Yes?"

"Remember, don't just shoot the first person you see." Ziva pouted slightly at Gibbs remark.

"As long as I can interrogate them, I will restrain from shooting anyone unless I must." Ziva clenched her jaw in anger. Gibbs could practically see the cogs spinning in her head, planning out exactly what method she would use that would cause a lot of pain without leaving marks. He snorted.

"You're behind Abby."

"Who is first?"

"Me." Gibbs saw Ziva give a vindictive smile as he stated this. Ziva looked down to the address.

"We are close, we will be there in about ten minutes."

o-o

Tim dropped his head against the wall, drawing in another painful breath.

"Don't be such a wuss, McGoo." Tony gently adjusted the jacket, but frowned slightly as Tim winced again. He sighed. "That's the best I can do, but I think you might have some internal injuries from the broken ribs." Tim gave him a slightly bemused look. "What? When I get hurt I do the research. I know everything you'd ever need to know about the pneumonic plague." He smiled grimly and took a sip from the water bottle, and then tossed the other to Tim, who caught it gently.

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are. Don't be stoic."

"No thanks, I'm not feeling up to drinking anything right now." Now that he mentioned it, Tim did look a bit ill. There was a tinge of green in his pale cheeks. Tony frowned, with broken ribs left untreated in bad conditions, the results would be ugly. The door swung open suddenly and the hulking shape of Hart loomed in the doorway. Both men stiffened.

"I'm giving you a chance."

"What?" Tim and Tony stared dumbfounded at one of their captors, the man who helped kidnap them.

"You have two minutes."

"Wha- Ow!" Tony quickly, without thinking, elbowed Tim in the ribs to cut off another confused question.

"Oh right, sorry." Tony grimaced apologetically at Tim, who was too busy catching his breath to shoot a dirty look.

"One minute and forty seconds. You're not out of sight by then, I shoot you. Run." Hart stared at them, a slight pity in his eyes, though apparently not enough to help them in any way. Tony scrambled to his feet, and leaned heavily on the wall as a wave of dizziness came upon him. With quite a bit of effort, he managed to help Tim to his feet, and sling his arm over his shoulder.

"Sorry, Tim."

"S'fine." Tim gasped out, trying to regain his breath and footing at the same time. "I can walk." Leaning on each other, they stumbled out the doorway, and through the first door they saw, thankfully the back door. Tony felt the ground seem to shift underneath his feet, and his headache grow unbearable.

"Tony!" He heard a voice gasp urgently to him. He blinked, his vision straightening out. Tim's face swam into his view. He looked like death warmed over, sweat pouring from his colorless face, pain and concern in his eyes. Tony realized he had stumbled, and Tim had been lugging him along.

"I'm good." He regained his footing and matched Tim's surprisingly quick pace. Adrenaline kicked in and they both disappeared into the trees. After a few good seconds of panicked sprinting and dodging trees, they both slowed and stopped. Both men collapsed on the ground. Tim clenched his teeth in agony as his need to breath overcame his sense of self-preservation. He felt his heart beat speed up.

"Can't breathe!" He wheezed out.

"Calm down, McGee!" Tony reached over and untied the wrap, "You have broken ribs, that's not going to help your breathing. Calm down or you'll faint."

"Pass out."

"Normally I'd say pass out too, but we are talking about you." Tim shot Tony a dirty look but then grinned weakly, and let his head drop wearily to the ground, his breathing slowed.

The sudden firing of a gun pierced the air.

Tony leaped to his feet, adrenaline kicking in again and clearing his head of the cobwebs it had been collecting. "Holy sh- C'mon, McGee!" Tim rose unsteadily, his face twisted in pain. Tony, glancing behind him, took Tim's arm over his shoulder and both of them stumbled off into the breaking dawn.