Hi folks!

To those who've been reading my other WIP, Blood Brothers, you already know this story so feel free to just skip ahead. For those who haven't read that one, then let me just say that life has been especially busy recently. I had my first big writing assignment – traveling to Atlanta, Georgia for a visit to the set and interviews with the cast of USA's new show, Necessary Roughness. Soon after getting back from that trip, I flew out again – this time to Toronto to visit the sets of both Covert Affairs and another new show, Suits.

Fanfiction gave me the guts to dive into this new career so every time something new happens, I always feel the need to thank you guys so, again, thank you!

I apologize profusely for the delay in getting this chapter up, but I hope y'all can understand now why it's taken me a little longer to get it done. :o)

FYI – if you want to read any of my reports, see the pics I took from the sets, or read any of my other articles (including those for my Supernatural column), reviews, etc, then head on over to my profile page and there you will find links to my Twitter, Facebook page and Daemon's TV page – which is where all will be posted.

And now, on with the story!

Chapter Sixteen

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This time though, it wasn't just his own life he was fighting for.

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It had been a few hours since Tony's initial outbursts and at this point Gibbs wasn't sure who was more worn out, him or his Senior Field Agent. The fever had done its best to tear the other man apart, both physically and mentally. Gibbs had heard and seen things he hoped never to see or hear again, had pulled the other man back from getting up and simply walking out of the cave, had tried to explain to him that the storm still raged outside and he would find no relief out there anyway, had turned a deaf ear as Tony raged on about his father and anything else the sickness decided to serve up from his unconsciousness. They were both exhausted and as the team leader wiped a cooling cloth across Tony's head for what had to be the millionth time, he hoped that it would be over soon. Surely Tony couldn't take much more.

Tony's eyes had been clamped shut the entire time he had raged and thrashed, more than enough evidence that the words he had been speaking weren't based on anything in the cave that night. Beasts from the past had reared their ugly heads and both men had been fighting them back left and right. But as Gibbs pressed the wet handkerchief to Tony's radiating forehead, he suddenly found a pair of green eyes staring back at him for the first time in hours.

The momentary relief Gibbs felt when he saw that Tony was awake again, dissipated quickly when he saw the look in the other man's eyes. Gibbs had been fearing that look ever since Tony started going downhill fast, since the fever had started playing tricks on the younger man's mind and wracking his body with pain.

Tony was giving up.

Gibbs knew what that meant, he had seen it in battle more times than he had wanted. Once a man gave up on life, he wasn't long for this world. It was time for last ditch efforts. In a voice so low that no one would have heard it had they even been sitting a few inches away, Gibbs spoke to himself quietly.

"Dammit DiNozzo, I need you to get pissed."

Tony, the easygoing laughable clown was a different man when someone got on his wrong side. He'd let this bug get the better of him and hadn't bothered to get mad at it. It was the one thing he needed to do now; get pissed and fight back. Fight back like he would if it were a dirtbag who'd taken a shot at his partner, like an FBI agent who blew up his car, like a forensic geek who tried to frame him for murder. He hadn't taken any of their crap and Gibbs wasn't about to let him take it from a microbe.

Hating that he had to do it, Gibbs was actually about to do something to Tony that the younger man had once done for him after Kate's death. Knowing that rage and anger were better than apathy or indifference, Gibbs tried to get Tony mad at him.

"You gonna let this thing win DiNozzo? Maybe I should make McGee my Senior Field Agent. You want that, Tony? Looks like I picked the wrong man to run my team. You can't even beat a bug? Pathetic."

But the other man didn't respond. No matter what curses, insults and epithets Gibbs threw down at him, Tony didn't stir more than a few seconds at a time, mumbling nothing that made sense and always returning immediately to unconsciousness.

Trying to incite the other man into anger had been the last thing that Gibbs could think of. As he sat back, realizing that it wasn't going to work, he felt the first stirrings of true fear. Throughout the long night he'd been worried for Tony's safety, but underneath he'd always been sure that, whatever happened, Tony would survive. He might scare the living crap out of Gibbs first, but he would always make it through.

But now Gibbs wondered if this time he might just lose the younger man after all. The helplessness that tore at him was almost more than he could bear and Gibbs was sickened to realize that there was nothing else he could do. He had exhausted every other option….

Or had he?

Looking down at the man slowly fading away before his very eyes, Gibbs had a sudden thought. There was one thing he hadn't tried yet; one thing that just might work, but was so far beyond his realm of thinking that it hadn't occurred to him until just then.

Leaning forward, the older man whispered into his partner's ear.

"DiNozzo, don't die on me…please."

It was a word not often heard coming from his mouth. Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't like it. That word was to him was like begging; like admitting that you couldn't handle something yourself and needed someone else to hold your hand. That's not how he lived his life. He didn't beg for help or ask for permission. He did what he wanted, when he wanted. Everyone else be damned.

This time it was different. This time it was something he couldn't do on his own; couldn't fix without help. He had done everything he could. Now it was up to Tony and Tony wasn't listening to him. So if he had to get down on a knee and ask for help, use a word that might actually mean something to the man lying before him, then he was sure as hell gonna try.

Somewhere inside, deep down, underneath the pain, the confusion, the fear….Tony heard Gibbs' voice. Wanting for so long to do nothing more than to give up, to have some relief, he suddenly felt something else.

Tony had decided a while ago that dying was better than the hell he was going through. Letting the darkness take him would at least give him relief. What he hadn't taken into account was what it would do to the person he probably cared more about than anyone else in the world. A man who, despite his gruff demeanor, had become more like family than Tony had ever known. More of a father than the man he hadn't spoken to in years.

Tony had only been thinking of himself, how much pain he was in, how much he needed to let go. Now he realized that the pain he felt was nothing compared to what Gibbs would go through if he died. Tony hadn't been there when Gibbs had lost his wife and daughter. By the time they'd met, the older man had placed their memory far into his soul. Hidden away in a closet that even he couldn't reach, it stayed there until an accident brought it all back to the surface. The closet doors had busted down and he'd had to deal with it all again.

That was when Tony got to see it, the pain his boss had worked so hard to hide. He'd also seen how long it took for the pain to recede enough for the man to get back to a normal life. Months spent in Mexico, time on a beach with only an old friend as company. Tony had seen how much Gibbs had needed it.

Tony didn't know if Gibbs would survive it again. He knew that he was Gibbs' family now. The whole team was a family, but Tony more than anyone. They never discussed it; never brought it out into the light, but it was there.

If Tony died, Gibbs would in essence lose another child. A man might be able to survive that once in his life, but could he do it twice?

Tony had only been thinking of himself for the past little while; with no energy left to keep up the semblance of humor or their usual banter. Hearing Gibbs talk like that, using a word that hardly ever left his lips, an odd instinct kicked into gear. It had nothing to do with keeping himself alive, instead it was a protective impulse towards his boss. The thing clawed its way out of his soul and reared its head, hissing in anger at the sickness. It was the same instinct that had thrown him into freezing cold water to save his boss and the girl that had been Kelly's best friend. Self-preservation should have told him to stay on shore and call for help, as a man with scarred lungs had no business going into water that cold, especially twice. But Tony had turned a deaf ear to self preservation and told it to kiss his ass.

Tony knew then that he wasn't just fighting just for himself; he was fighting for Gibbs, too. He knew that if he died, Gibbs just might die too. Maybe not at his own hand, maybe he'd just find all the dangerous cases, take all the crazy chances he could until someone else did it for him. He'd keep going until the bullet with his name written on it found him. Or maybe he'd retire for real this time and end up in his basement with his boat, his bourbon and nothing else, fading away into nothingness.

Fighting back the darkness, Tony knew what he had to do. He had to fight to live.

This time though, it wasn't just his own life he was fighting for.

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Thanks again for reading! Right now it looks like this story has maybe one or two more chapters and then it will be done! One never knows what the Muse will do but that's how it looks at the moment. I'm going to try really hard to get the last chapters done ASAP, but if I have to hop on another plane, there may be a slight delay again. LOL.