Tag for "SWAK" – sort of. This chapter occurs during the period of time after Gibbs leaves isolation but before the very last scene between Kate and Tony where, clearly after some time has passed, Tony seems to be on the mend.

I am in no way a medical professional, so I apologize if I get some stuff wrong for the sake of creative license.

"Darkest Hours – Part III"

Soon after learning from Doctor Pitt that Tony was no longer infectious, Kate decided to return to his bedside. She once again donned the surgical mask, this time more for Tony's protection than her own. With all the drugs being pumped into her partner's system, she wasn't certain it was even possible for him to catch her head cold, but she certainly wasn't about to take that chance.

After a few moments, Ducky realized that his charge was in good hands, and felt that his efforts could be better used elsewhere at the moment, so he decided to leave the isolation area for the time being and went in search of his friend instead.

Kate retook her position to Tony's right, holding his hand in one of her own and gently caressing his arm with the other hand as she had done before. His eyes were open but unfocused, and this time she noticed no reaction to her touch. His breaths were coming in quick, shallow bursts that sounded painful to her ears.

"Tony?" she asked softly. He didn't even flinch. "Tony? It's Kate. Can you hear me?" she repeated with a bit more force. Still nothing. "Tony?" she asked a third time, in a near panic.

She didn't hear Emma's approach, but became aware of the nurse's presence when she felt a hand on her arm. "Kate," the nurse told her gently. "He has a very high fever. It's not uncommon for very ill patients to become disoriented and unaware of their surroundings."

"Oh," Kate said simply, the disappointment evident in her tone.

"That doesn't mean you should stop talking to him," Emma offered.

"I'm not sure how much that helps if he doesn't even know I'm here."

"We don't know everything about how much a patient in an altered state of consciousness can understand, but there is evidence that they can still hear you on some level. Remember, there's nothing wrong with Tony's ears and most of his brain is still functioning even if his conscious mind is unaware. It can't hurt to communicate with him. As long as you don't say anything that may be upsetting. And, at the very least, it may make you feel better," Emma encouraged with a reassuring smile.

"Thanks," Kate answered warmly.

"I'll give you some privacy," the nurse stated as she turned to leave the room.

Kate felt a sudden surge of fear. "Wait! What happened before…where he was choking…what if that happens again? I don't know what to do…"

"I'll be right outside and Doctor Pitt is nearby as well. I assure you I'll be keeping an eye on him and I'll be right in if you need me."

Kate was still slightly nervous, but she nodded her agreement. Once the nurse had stepped outside to her desk, Agent Todd again took her position to Tony's right. Even in his altered state of consciousness, his eyes looked frightened and miserable. She noticed he was clutching something that appeared to be a cell phone in his left hand. Gibbs must've given that to him for some strange reason. Not like Tony's going to be making any calls for a while.

Letting go of his right hand momentarily, she attempted to free the cell phone from his grasp. However, the minute she tried to unclasp his fingers, he grabbed on to the phone with an even tighter grip and attempted to pull his hand away. "It's okay, Tony. I'm just going to take the cell phone out of your hand. I'll give it back to you when you feel better." But the sick man's eyes were wild and he became clearly agitated the more she attempted to remove the phone from his grasp.

"Okay, okay, Tony. Settle down. I'll let you keep the phone." Kate couldn't figure out why on earth Tony was grasping that cell phone for dear life, but since his conscious mind was clearly elsewhere, she realized it was wise to let the matter go.

He began to calm slightly after a few seconds, once he realized the phone was no longer being wrested from his grasp, though he retained a slight frown in his features. Feeling guilty, Kate whispered in soothing tones, "I'm sorry, Tony. I won't do it again." If she hadn't been wearing a surgical mask and trying desperately to prevent her partner from being exposed to any more germs, she may have followed the words with a gentle kiss to the forehead. But she wouldn't take the risk.

Instead, she decided to follow Emma's advice by talking to him.

"You know Tony, I'm almost afraid to admit this even while you're practically unconscious, and I just know it's gonna come back to bite me somehow, but you were right about something. When you said I'd miss you. The truth is, when you were in Panama City….I actually may have missed you. Briefly. Gibbs is….really, really grumpy when you aren't around. I mean, I guess that's normal. But, I could swear he was even worse than usual that week. And McGee was whiny without you there to put him back in line. And I was just…..bored…."

She paused for a moment hopefully when it seemed like Tony may have been about to speak. He started mumbling incoherently, and Kate leaned slightly closer in an attempt to make out his words. Her heart sank when she realized he still wasn't making much sense. "No…nomorebeer….don't….feelso…good."

Maybe Emma had a point after all about his subconscious mind still hearing me. Maybe he's remembering Spring Break….She decided to continue. "Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is….don't even think about leaving us."

Armed with two steaming cups of coffee from the cafeteria, Ducky quickly located his friend sitting alone in the waiting room.

"I thought you may need this, Jethro," he offered quietly as he handed over one of the cups. "Though I suppose it isn't up to your usual standards."

Smiling briefly, his friend offered by way of a thank-you, "Ah, that's ok, Duck. Better than nothing."

Taking a seat next to the Lead Agent, Doctor Mallard wondered, "Where is Ms. Yates?"

"Cassie went back to the office to wrap up the case reports. I…couldn't leave."

"I see. And given that young Anthony hasn't been given anything, I am to assume that there was no antidote after all?" Ducky inquired hesitantly.

He could see Gibbs' jaw clench tightly. "No," he said tensely. Suddenly he jumped up and clasped his hands behind his head, beginning to wander around the room without a clear destination. "This all happened for nothing, Ducky. Absolutely nothing."

"What do you mean?"

Taking a deep breath to get his temper under control, Gibbs explained. "I mean that girl was never even raped. She lied out of embarrassment. And the mother's…out of her mind. Literally. Dying of a brain tumor. The scientist said that's why she thought there was an antidote when there never was one. And you know what he had the nerve to tell me?"

Making a mental note that his friend was unusually talkative this evening, Ducky deduced that the release of anger and frustration was very necessary for Gibbs to cope with the events of the past few days. Encouraging the other man to continue, he simply asked, "What?"

"That Tony only had a 15% chance of surviving this. 15%. Lucky I didn't go ahead and shoot him."

Trying to remain calm, but still sounding slightly incredulous, Dr. Mallard asked, "You held your gun on him?"

As if the question were completely ridiculous, Gibbs retorted, "Yeah. Had to make sure I got the truth. Fast. We were runnin' out of time. Tony was…." He couldn't seem to continue. Gibbs dropped back into his chair, all the anger draining from his system as abruptly as it had appeared.

"Jethro," his friend prodded. "What exactly did you say to Anthony earlier?"

"I told him he wouldn't die," Gibbs answered matter-of-factly.

"Yes, well, it's good to maintain a positive outlook. Anthony can use every ounce of encouragement…."

"Wasn't encouragement, Duck. I meant that I ordered him. I ordered him not to die. And he damn well better listen."

The doctor was surprised at the tactic, to say the least. He hoped against hope that his friend wasn't deluding himself. Not really knowing how to respond, he managed, "Anthony does seem terribly afraid of disappointing you. It may very well work to his advantage in this particular crisis."

"It better," Gibbs threatened to no one in particular, the faintest hint of doubt attempting to creep back into his thoughts. He abruptly shoved it from his mind.

"Jethro, I am aware that Tony is our primary concern, but Caitlin has been here since yesterday morning and I'm afraid she hasn't slept…"

"I'll take care of it, Ducky. Was planning to stay with him tonight anyway."

"Are you certain, Jethro? You can't have gotten very much rest yourself."

"I grabbed a couple hours' nap on one of your tables last night." He failed to mention that the sleep had been very restless. "I'll be fine. Don't sleep that much anyway. You go home, too. One of us probably needs to show up at the office in the morning."

Ducky knew Agent Gibbs would be spending as much time as possible here at the hospital with Tony now that the case was wrapped and Tony was no longer contagious. It would be up to himself to report back to the Navy Yard in the morning and give the rest of the team as much of an update as possible.

"Alright, Jethro. I know you'll look after Anthony's progress. Please don't hesitate to call me if…"

Based on the threatening glare his friend was giving him, he decided it best to leave that statement incomplete.

When Gibbs very quietly re-entered isolation, he noticed Kate holding a one-sided conversation with his Senior Field Agent. She hadn't noticed his entrance, and for a moment he was very still, simply listening and observing. In spite of the seriousness of their current situation, he momentarily felt the same warmth come over him that he often felt whenever he was spying on one of his agents' animated morning bullpen conversations. She was rambling on about some college story, one he had no doubt Tony would more fully appreciate under normal circumstances, and one he had no doubt his female agent would not be sharing under those same normal circumstances.

Reluctantly, he wandered over to the opposite side of Tony's bed from where Kate was standing to make his presence known. She nodded at him briefly while finishing up her story, and he momentarily wondered if she had turned the tables on him and been aware of his presence all along. Kate had come a long way since their first meeting aboard Air Force One.

When she was finished speaking to Tony, she turned her attention towards their boss. "He's incoherent," she informed him. "He hasn't acknowledged me since I've been here. Keeps mumbling things." Softly, she added, "I think I heard him ask for his mother once. And there was another time…" She abruptly stopped as if debating whether or not to continue. "Gibbs, who is Wendy?"

She thought she saw Gibbs take in a slightly sharp intake of air, startled by the name. But he managed to cover quickly.

"That's something you're gonna have to wait and ask Tony when he's better." He knew the younger man would be mortified that he'd let something slip to his partner that was so deeply personal. But they had higher priorities right now, and he was certain Tony would understand his deferring the question for him to answer himself later. When he was better. When. It was a word his boss continued to repeat to himself whenever he was tempted to use the other, more uncertain term that began with an "i."

They stood together in silence for a moment regarding Tony. Gibbs didn't think it was possible before, but his agent actually looked even worse than when he'd left him. He was breathing so quickly and shallowly now that Gibbs wondered if he'd hyperventilate. He seemed to be trembling slightly, most likely chilled from the fever since it wasn't the least bit cold in the room. His lips and nose were still an alarming shade of blue, along with his fingertips. If Gibbs never saw that shade of blue again once Tony was on the mend, it wouldn't be too soon for him.

"Go home, Kate. I'll take it from here." It was said softly, gently, and yet left no room for debate.

"You'll call me if…"

"He'll be fine. But, yes, I'll call you if there's anything you need to know."

But there was more she wanted to discuss with her boss. "Gibbs, why weren't you angry with me? For staying, I mean, when I found out my tests were negative."

"Who says I wasn't?" he asked, without any real heat behind his words.

"C'mon, Gibbs. You make it pretty obvious when you're angry. But you aren't. I can tell."

"I know why you did it," he responded simply. "Guess I was glad you were here."

Surprised by the honest answer, Kate replied, "Well…good. I'm glad you understand. And I'm glad I did it. He was scared, Gibbs. He tried to cover it up like he always does, but I knew."

"'Course he was scared. Nothin' wrong with that," he said as if speaking directly to Tony, even though the younger man gave no indication of hearing him.

"You know, Emma, the nurse, said it was good to talk to him, even though it seems like he can't hear us. Because on some level he probably can. So maybe you should…" She caught a glimpse of what appeared to be an amused raised-eyebrow expression on the man's face in front of her and remembered. "Never mind. Forgot who I was talking to. Maybe you could just clear your throat every now and then so he knows you're still here," she suggested.

"He'll know I'm here," Gibbs offered assuredly.

"Sometimes he starts coughing and can't stop, and then every now and then he starts choking. It's really frightening. He needs to be sat up when that happens and then either the nurse or doctor start pounding on his back to loosen the phlegm…."

"Go home, Kate. I promise to take good care of him."

"Right," she said uncertainly. She caressed Tony's arm gently one last time, smiling down at him and squeezing his hand gently. "I'll be back later, Tony. Don't…go anywhere. I still have lots of stories to tell you." She gave his hand one last squeeze, wishing she could offer more comfort, and then reluctantly left isolation for the second time that day.

Hoping and praying she'd still have the opportunity and a reason to return the next day.

Gibbs stepped closer to the bedside of his Senior Field Agent, taking in the pale pallor of the younger man's face and the pained but determined expression there. "I get the distinct impression that Agent Todd thinks I don't know what I'm doing," he said wryly to the younger man as if it were some shared joke between them. Tony's facial expression didn't change. He hadn't really expected it to, but still felt a slight sting of disappointment that he'd received no reaction.

He noticed that Tony seemed to still be clinging desperately to the cell phone he'd placed in his hand hours earlier. While the action had confused Kate entirely, Gibbs smiled at the sight. He was pretty sure he knew why the young man was clinging so tightly to that phone and he had an idea that would keep him from having to come up with conversation topics the entire night.

With more force than Kate had used, he wrested the phone from Tony's grasp. Momentarily, his agent panicked, flailing his arm in the air wildly grabbing at nothing. However, almost immediately, Gibbs replaced the phone with his own hand. It was a different grasp than Kate had used. Instead of soft and nurturing, this grasp was firm and strong. Reinforcing his grip, he placed his other hand on top of their two clasped hands and squeezed tightly, holding it there firmly, and resting their three-handed clasp on the side of Tony's bed.

Tony stilled immediately. The frown that had been etched on his face since Gibbs had arrived was smoothed over. His breathing, while still shallow and labored, slowed slightly. And the eyes that had been staring fearfully into space, unseeing, slipped closed.

"That's it, Tony. Rest. I've got your six," Gibbs whispered. In a self-satisfied tone, he added, "I told her you'd know I was here."

Tony was under water. He was just below the surface, able to see the reflection of the sunlight glistening on the water just above him. He couldn't breathe, but he couldn't quite slip down into the abyss of darkness below him either.

There was a rope in his hand, and his grip was tenuous at best. Every time he felt himself slipping further down below the surface, the rope pulled him up just long enough to gasp for the precious air he needed so desperately. But when he tried to stay above water, his body always betrayed him and he slipped back below the surface again.

He was terrified of letting go of that rope. He'd almost lost his hold a few times, but he'd fought for it. Hard.

Suddenly, the rope was gone and he was sinking. The darkness was so tempting and his muscles screamed in protest as he flailed his arms, struggling to reach the surface, desperate for something, anything, to hold onto.

Two strong hands reached in and enveloped his own in an iron grip. His aching muscles cried out in relief and he relaxed, allowing the hands to lead him, pulling him to the surface just when he needed it.

He didn't have to worry about letting go anymore, because he was no longer struggling to maintain his fragile grip on the rope. The hands were holding him, doing the work for him.

And for reasons he didn't fully understand, he completely trusted these hands not to let go until he reached the shore.

When Doctor Pitt walked in, Gibbs looked down at his and Tony's clasped hands looking momentarily sheepish, but didn't let go.

Gibbs was clearly a macho man type, not comfortable with expressing emotion, particularly where another man was concerned. Yet it was also clear to the doctor that this young man was more than just his agent. There was a deep personal connection between them, vitally important somehow to them both. Brad also hadn't failed to note that the presence of family members on Tony's behalf was lacking, and had also been made aware that his patient had named his boss as his medical proxy. Yet more proof that family had less to do with blood than most people might assume.

Sensing the Lead Agent's dilemma, Brad broke the uncomfortable silence. "You know, Tony seems more relaxed since you got here. You must be doing something right. Whatever it is, keep doing it."

"How's he doing? Any change?" Gibbs asked with some trepidation.

"No significant change." Seeing the concern his answer caused, the doctor hastened to add, "That also means he hasn't gotten any worse in the last several hours."

"So that's a good sign, right?" the older man prodded.

"I can't make any false promises. But it's certainly something to be thankful for. I'm sure it hasn't hurt that he's had someone with him ever since he got here. You and Agent Todd obviously care about him very much."

While Gibbs didn't answer verbally, he allowed a tiny smile to indicate his agreement. "Not used to him being this quiet," the Lead Agent observed.

"Oh, you should've heard him earlier. I'll bet you have your hands full with him and Agent Todd. Between you and me, I think he's charmed my nurse."

"Doesn't surprise me," Gibbs said proudly.

"Would you believe that Tony and I played football against each other in college? He broke his leg in that game. Of course, he tried to blame me."

Maybe there really are such things as coincidences. "He's told me about that game." Gibbs wondered how Tony felt about being treated by a guy who brought back such a traumatic memory, but when the doctor mentioned how they'd discussed Tony's Spring Break trip and his beer bonging ability, he realized Tony had probably found a certain degree of camaraderie with his doctor.

Their conversation was interrupted when Tony began coughing. The younger man's eyes flew open in a panic and Gibbs realized he was choking.

With confident ease, the doctor sat Tony in an upright position and began pounding on his patient's back with precision to loosen the phlegm. Offering his assistance, Gibbs took one of his hands and wrapped it around Tony's shoulders, leaning the younger man's weight fully against his chest while never releasing his grasp on Tony with the remaining hand. He noticed that the younger man practically collapsed against him, all of his strength having been sapped by the illness ravaging his body. It made Gibbs angry all over again at the injustice of the situation.

Once that crisis was over, Gibbs gently eased his Senior Field Agent back onto the bed, rearranging the sheets around him and retaking his double grip on Tony's hand. He was gratified when the younger man once again appeared to relax and close his eyes.

Turning to Doctor Pitt, Gibbs asked, "You know that pounding thing you do when he starts choking? Need you to show me how to do that. For when he gets out of here."

When, not if. "Sure Agent Gibbs. I like the way you think."

Ducky gathered Abby, Tim, and Jimmy together in autopsy the next morning. Fortunately, no new cases had come in, since Tony was out of commission, Gibbs was firmly planted at the hospital, and poor Kate was home getting some much needed rest.

Abby was the first to ask, "How's Tony really doing, Ducky? Please say he's going to be okay."

"I won't lie to you Abigail. Anthony has quite a battle ahead of him, but so far he's been holding his own. I spoke with Doctor Pitt earlier and there has been no significant change in his condition overnight."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Tim asked.

"Well, Tony still has a very severe case of pneumonia, brought on by the plague. He still shows signs of cyanosis and right at the moment he is rather disoriented. But he's still alive and the pneumonia has not progressed any further since last night. I wish I could give you more, but at this point it's practically a miracle that Tony's made it this far. Let's take that as a good sign, shall we?"

Jimmy nodded, but Abby and McGee appeared less convinced. Abby raised her hand.

"Yes, Abigail?"

"When can we see him?"

Ducky noticed that McGee looked almost queasy at the thought, but didn't comment. "I think it would be best if you waited until he's a little better. Gibbs and Kate have been with him. He's had no shortage of caretakers, believe me."

Abby looked disappointed, but grudgingly agreed to continue waiting. She really hated waiting.

"Agent McGee, Gibbs wanted me to inform you that you are in charge while he, Tony, and Kate are absent. But you are welcome to call him or Kate if any issues arise."

McGee's eyes widened temporarily, recalling the last time he'd been in charge. At least they weren't currently in the midst of an undercover mission gone terribly wrong this time. As long as he didn't have to deal with the Deputy Secretary of State again, he figured everything would be ok.

The memory of that disaster brought to mind a fonder memory as well. He recalled how Tony had congratulated him for standing up to the Deputy Secretary of State. He'd even given him a, "good job." Agent McGee had felt so proud of himself at that moment.

Not anymore. He just hoped he would have the chance one day to tell Tony how sorry he was for handing him that envelope full of pneumonic plague.

It had been a long night. At some point, Doctor Pitt had brought Gibbs a chair and maneuvered it over to Tony's beside for him, so that he wouldn't have to loosen his grip on Tony's hand.

He had a cramp in each of his wrists, he was tired, and his neck hurt. And he really, really needed some coffee right now. But there was no way he was letting go of Tony's hand.

As he looked down at the limp hand he held in his own, he could have sworn the fingertips were less blue than they had been last night. But maybe he was just hoping for that to be the case.

As he was studying the hand, a pair of green eyes were fluttering open. This time, instead of a vacant gaze, they looked around curiously as if trying to recall where they were.

They landed somewhere to the patient's left and settled themselves on the disheveled figure of a silver-haired man with a severe Marine haircut. The man was looking down at his hands, so the patient mustered every ounce of strength he had remaining to get his attention.

The sound was hoarse and very faint. Yet Gibbs would remember it long after as one of the loveliest sounds he'd ever heard.

"Boss?"