Hello all! It's been a very long time, and I'm so sorry for that. I've been so busy...I hate this phrase but, emotional roller coaster. And that's all I will say on that subject. :P

All of you deserve medals for sticking with this story, and upon receiving an incredibly correct review, I've finished this story. I'm not entirely happy with where it's gone, and there isn't much in the way of hurt and/or comfort after this, but it's an end, and I realized I needed to finish this thing! :)

Again, I'm so sorry about the wait, but I hope the end meets all of your satisfaction. Thank you so much. There will be one more chapter after this one. After some editing and revision, it'll come up sometime soon.

Thank you.

Chapter Fifteen

"He's stable for now." Doctor Cassier gently pinched the bridge of his nose, looking extremely exhausted. He and Gibbs stood in Tim's room, fresh from surgery several hours later. "He's a fighter. After his lung collapsed a second time…" He trailed off and looked at Gibbs, who said nothing. He sighed and continued. "The chances of it collapsing again have significantly increased, the lung has already taken an incredible beating. But I don't think it'll happen again. We repaired the lung the best we could, but there'll be some scarring from the trauma."

"He'll match, Dinozzo." Gibbs murmured under his breath, slightly amused. Doctor Cassier's lips twitched a bit at his tone, he continued.

"He's under some heavy sedatives right now, so he probably won't wake up until tomorrow morning when they eventually filter out of his system. He's going to be on a ventilator for now, until he wakes up. We're not taking any chances on putting stress on the lung. He wouldn't survive another collapse." The last part was said with a solemn note, his face serious. He glanced at Tim, who predictably didn't wake up, and walked toward the door. He stopped and leaned against the doorframe, after a moment he turned again. "We have some extra beds in the on-call room, not many people are working tonight and it's about two in the morning. If you need it, it's there, Special Agent Gibbs."

"I'm fine. But, thanks." Gibbs said shortly, though the graciousness was brief it was there. Doctor Cassier nodded, gave another glance at Tim, full of pity and sadness, and departed. "Poor kid." He whispered. Gibbs turned and looked at Tim, snugly tucked underneath the crisp, white sheets, that drained whatever color he had left from his face. He did look like such a kid. Gibbs frowned and took an armchair besides the window. They didn't deserve this. He glanced up again as footsteps paused in front of the room. The Officer stood in the doorway, concern barely visible through the shadows cast on his face.

"Gibbs."

"Need something?" Gibbs asked starkly. The Officer hesitated and then walked into the room and up to Gibbs.

"Just checking on you and your agents before I head home." There was a thoughtful pause. "I'd heard about you, Gibbs, but I never thought you'd be as much of a hard ass as you are." The Officer grinned.

"I do what I have to." Gibbs said in an even tone, but the edge of a smile snuck onto his lips.

"I hope we get to work together again." The Officer offered a hand to Gibbs, who stood and took it in a firm handshake.

"I do too." The Officer smiled at this. The handshake was broken and he began to walk away. "I never got your name." The Officer stopped at Gibbs' voice and turned.

"Gonzalez." Officer Gonzalez said softly, with a grin, and left for good. Gibbs slumped back into his seat, and sighed again. He glanced out the window into the night.

"Jethro, coffee?" A cup was placed into his lax grip. Ducky took the seat next to him and followed his gaze. "Ah, Luna. The moon. Long ago those who observed the stars and stayed out under the moon were often considered to be insane by their peers. Loony, they'd call them. As if the moon influenced their state of mind. Unhinged the sanity we hold so dear." He chuckled softly. "Though it seems we are all a little insane. Though insanity is not always a terrible thing. In fact, many of the most famous discoveries of all time were uncovered by the supposed mad. In my youth, I encountered a particularly-"

"You're killing me here, Duck." Gibbs groaned and straightened in his chair. "How's Tony?"

"The latest CAT scan showed a reduction of the swelling around his frontal and parietal lobes." Ducky gave a small smile when Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "That is what the medical staff are attempting to achieve, Jethro. Anthony's chances of damage to vital parts of his brain, have been reduced greatly." Gibbs kept his piercing gaze on Ducky, seemingly making an attempt to bore into his soul. Ducky stared back with the same amount of intensity, if not more. "You have done all you can, Jethro. Even you need rest occasionally." He said gently. Silence. "I'm here, Jethro. I can easily arouse you if something takes a turn for the worst."

Gibbs slipped back into his slumped position in the chair and said nothing. Ducky held back a sigh and then smiled slightly.

"Have I ever told you of my internship, to a rather eccentric man?"

Gibbs rubbed his face wearily and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Geez, Ducky. There's a time and a place."

"He was a good man. A strong moral compass he held, one that he imposed upon me when I was under his employment for one year, at the tender age of nineteen. Doctor Levon. Doctor Evan Levon. A good man, but a strange one. Now, I remember on my second day there, he decided to enlighten me to the ways of transcendentalism. Of course, he was a rather blunt man. I ended up alone, blindfolded in the middle of a deep forest..." Ducky reminisced, a far away look on his face.

Gibbs groaned as Ducky seemingly rambled on. Things were becoming blurry, and his eyelids were becoming harder to keep apart. He looked to his hand, which had held a steaming cup of coffee moments ago, and would have blinked in astonishment if be had the energy to spare. Where had his coffee gone? He glanced at Ducky, the world dimming around him, and caught the sly glint in his eye as he talked. Smooth devil! Slowly his eyes drifted shut.

And the world faded away into a comforting, blank canvas.

"Goodnight, Jethro."

Damn you Duck.

o-o

Tony swam swiftly upward through the darkness, propelled by sheer force of will, without corporeal form. Just a shapeless entity trapped within his own body. He struggled toward the surface, fighting for the consciousness that had eluded him before. He winced inwardly at the stiff feeling and fuzziness that seized his form but he struggled onward.

A little more. Just a little farther.

He fought fiercely through the thick fog and broke the surface-

"Good morning, Tony."

Tony opened his eyes wide at the voice and then winced at the stark lights. He shut his eyes tightly. Hospital? "Feel…like hell." He croaked out.

"You look it." A grin flowed through the voice.

"McGee?" Tony cracked open an eye and turned his head ever so slightly to his right. Tim smiled brightly at him from the adjacent bed and frantically pressing the red nurse call button. He looked incredibly relieved though rather sickly, tired and pale at the same time. "You shouldn't talk, man." He grinned weakly and wished desperately for a glass of water. Unfortunately, his limbs had decided to gain a couple thousand pounds while he was out.

"Hey, someone called?" Someone asked from the doorway. Tony glanced toward the door and his eyebrows quirked upward. A pretty brunette nurse leaned against the doorframe, a quizzical look on her face as she looked toward Tim, who just smiled. He then inclined his head in the direction of Tony's bed. Tony attempted to straighten into a sitting position and failed miserably.

"I believe I called." Tony said, charm inking out profusely and an easy, if weary, toothy grin on his face. Her expression brightened visibly with happy surprise and she gave a small smile.

"Agent Dinozzo, you're up!" She pressed a few buttons on her pager and came over to his bedside.

"Oh, you know my name, but I don't know yours." Tony's eyes shone, and his smile grew ever so slightly as she drew closer to him. There was the softest sound of disgust from the adjacent bed. Tony ignored it. The nurse smiled.

"Rebecca."

"Rebecca." He repeated, allowing the name to roll around with relish on his tongue. She blushed slightly. "Very nice to meet you." He said, voice deep, injecting every bit of charm and sexiness he could muster into the tone, as if his life depended on it. Rebecca raised an eyebrow skeptically, but her blush deepened ever so slightly. There was a snort from the other bed, and Tony could almost hear the eye roll coming from Tim. His grin widened.

"You took your sweet time." She commented mildly and glanced at the door. Tony glanced at her, a bit baffled.

"Say what-"

"Doctor Cassier, have you had the pleasure of meeting Special Agent Dinozzo?" Rebecca asked the man who had poked his head in the doorway.

"Very Special Agent Dinozzo." Tony interjected.

Rebecca leaned down slightly and said softly to him, "I'll be the judge of that." His eyebrows flew up and, if possible, his grin grew wider. A small half shy, half wicked smile adorned her features.

"Agent Dinozzo!" Doctor Cassier greeted and strode quickly across the room. "Glad you're finally awake, we were beginning to worry."

"'We'?" Tony pressed a button and the bed inclined a few inches, he turned to look at the other bed. "Aw, McGee. Were you worried about me?" He asked innocently. Tim made a face at him and turned back to the book he was reading, though the edges of his lips turned ever so slightly upward. "How 'bout you Rebecca?" She gave him an amused glance and went back to reading her chart. Tony turned back to the Doctor. "How long was I out, Doc?"

"About seven days."

"Seven…seven days?" Tony sputtered.

"Yes." The Doctor murmured. He flowed with the smoothness and ease of the experienced around the machines surrounding Tony, checking things and making minor adjustments, all the while asking Tony basic questions. He stood back after a moment. "There isn't any apparent memory or cognitive functions damage. Can you feel all your limbs? Upper and lower body?"

"Yeah,"

Doctor Cassier smiled. "That's a good sign, Agent Dinozzo. Please wiggle the fingers on your left hand for me. Good. Right? Okay, toes on your left foot? Now right foot. Wonderful!" He finished with relish and a quirky, if hesitant, smile. "You've recovered surprisingly well, there isn't any visible damage from the concussion or swelling at the moment. But we're going to need to do a CAT scan to check things out."

"I'm used to the head trauma. This concussion," He clumsily made a weak sweeping motion with a hand and an unimpressed sound. "Nothing. Nada." Doctor Cassier gave him an amused look.

"I see the Morphine is doing its job."

"Like a charm." Tony said with a wide grin. "I feel like I could take on the entire world and three Tyrannosaurus Rex's in an overplayed, cinematic wreck of an unnecessary remake of a once great movie. Jack Black." He snorted in disgust and then paused. "That Morphine is doing a great job." He commented fuzzily and glanced over at the button he had been pressing to try and move the bed up again. He blinked and realized that he had missed it the second time and grabbed the Morphine controller instead.

"Get some rest Agent Dinozzo, no matter how you feel right now, you're still healing." He then looked over to Tim, who glanced up in surprise at the sudden. "You too, Agent McGee. It's the middle of the night." Tim closed the book unwillingly and placed it gently on the bed besides him. He sighed. Doctor Cassier half-smiled and left the room, switching off the light as he exited. There was a gentle scraping noise as the book was picked up again.

Tony let his head flop back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. "McGee,"

"Yeah?"

Tony heard the faint rustle of paper as Tim gingerly turned a page in his book. "You were worried, weren't you."

A sigh. "Go to sleep, Tony."

"You want me to get better, don't you. C'mon, admit it. You like me." Tony grinned gently as Tim sighed again. He could practically see the annoyed look on his face as the sound of a book being set down was heard again, along with the gentle sounds of the bed shifting slightly.

"I'm not going to do this right now Tony, I'm putting up with you because you're doped up on Morphine-"

"And loving it."

"-And just woke up out of a week long coma." A pause. There was the soft sound of a head being placed on a pillow. And gentler than before, Tim said, "Go to sleep, Tony."

"Yeah, sure, but not because you told me too." Tony felt the Morphine slowly pull him under into the comforting blackness, cool and soft. Tim listened in the darkness of the room and waited silently until he heard Tony's breaths become even and deep as he became lost in the sleep of the innocent. Or as innocent as Tony could be. Tim folded his hands underneath his head and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the dull pain every time he drew a deep breath.

"I was worried, Tony. I was worried, more than you'd think, I guess." He sighed and shut his eyes lightly. "Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like if I didn't…care, maybe? If you didn't mean a thing to me. Less stressful, I think." He chuckled softly, though was incredibly wary of his injured lung. Though he still winced and gritted his teeth as a jagged knife of pain twisted ever so slightly in his chest. He lightly pressed the Morphine control one time. "Yeah, I was worried, Tony." He took a shallow breath and let it out slowly. "If I develop an ulcer, it's all your fault." He grasped at the sleep that eluded him for days and finally found it. A small smile flitted across his face as he fell backward into a deep sleep. "Goodnight, Tony."