A/N. Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, etc. so far. Apologies in advance that this chapter is so short. I didn't have much time to write this evening but I wanted to get something posted before the weekend. I have a pretty full schedule over the next few days, but I'll do my best to get some more written, I promise. In the meantime, enjoy.
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Tony bit back a groan as he slowly regained consciousness. If his head had been pounding before, it now felt like a herd of elephants was tap dancing on his skull. He had no idea where he was, or how long he had been unconscious, and until he was sure he wasn't being watched, he was going to move as little as possible. Slowly he cracked one eye open and began to examine his surroundings. He appeared to be in a small room with a locked steel door and a high window. The light streaming down onto his face clued him in that he'd been out of it for several hours at least. Without moving his head, there was very little else to be seen, but the sturdy door gave him confidence that his captors were no longer nearby. Time to sit up and take a look around.
The simple feat of lifting his head was easier said than done. The slightest movement intensified the pain a hundred fold. He had no idea how much of the pain was caused by the concussion that had undoubtedly resulted from the blow to his head, but right now he couldn't think straight. After several failed attempts, he managed to pull himself up onto his elbows, but this time couldn't suppress a moan at the agony his exertion had caused. His stomach rolled, and he was glad he had barely managed to eat anything over the past twenty-four hours. He had no desire to see any of his meals again. Nearly ten minutes later, he had managed to drag himself over to the nearest wall, and had pulled himself into a sitting position. Opening his eyes again, he looked around. To his left was the aforementioned steel door, and the window was now right above his head. To his right was a sink, a lavatory and a small bed. The blood in his veins ran ice cold as he finally noticed a figure slumped in the far corner. Gibbs.
Even through his blurry vision, Tony could make out the patch of wet, red blood that had soaked through the senior agent's shirt. Closing his eyes and forcing himself to listen, he could just about make out the older man's ragged breathing. Gibbs was alive, but there was no way of finding out how likely he was to stay that way without a closer examination, and that much movement was really going to hurt. Tony sighed. They should have seen this coming. Hell, they had seen it coming, and had walked into it nonetheless. They had known this was a trap before they had even arrived at the safehouse, yet they had still managed to get outwitted and kidnapped by a frail seventy-five year old protective witness. They were never going to live this down, if they lived at all. He wondered what had happened to the police guard. There had been no warning before the two hired thugs had entered the house. The sentries must have been paid off. If DiNozzo ever found out who they were, there was really going to be trouble. First, though, he had to find a way out of this place.
'Boss?' he called out shakily, surprised at how weak his voice sounded. 'Gibbs, are you with me?' Not surprisingly, there was no response.
'Damn it, he muttered to himself. Tempted though he was to drop his head onto his knees and accept the inviting oblivion, he knew he needed to get to Gibbs. Slowly and painfully, he forced himself to crawl across the floor towards his team leader. By the time he reached Gibbs, he was shaking with exhaustion, but at least he had succeeded in achieving his first goal. Fighting to stay awake, he reached out to examine the older man's oozing wound. Before his hand could even make contact with the blood-stained shirt, his wrist was caught in a vice-like grip. As he raised his head to look at his boss's face, he saw a pair of unfocused blue eyes looking back at him.