A/N. Thanks again for all the motivational comments. I may have lied a few chapters ago when I thought I was nearly done with this story. It seems to be getting longer. I believe a couple of people asked me to make Gibbs be nice to Tony this chapter. Interesting concept. Well, here it is. Don't get used to it. I'm sure he'll be back to his usual self in no time. ;D Enjoy…

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Tony sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. Something had woken him, but he couldn't think about that now. His head was spinning, evidently a reaction to his rapid movement. Had he been awake, there was no way he would have considered sitting up so quickly. He remembered the last time he had been really drunk – it had been very much like, but far less painful than, this. The ceiling had been dancing around his eyes in much the same way the walls were now, and the resultant sensation of nausea had been just the same. The pounding headache, however, hadn't arrived until the next morning. The amplified combination of the two sets of symptoms was nearly unbearable. Even Abby appeared to be spinning. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and reached for the rail on his hospital bed to steady himself. If he wasn't careful, he was going to throw up all over Abby's favourite black t-shirt. Hang on a minute! If he had seen the walls, and Abby, his brain slowly caught up, then his eyes were working! He didn't know whether to laugh or cry – he finally had his sight back, and here he was screwing his eyes tightly shut and desperately trying not to look at anything. Even in his current state he could appreciate the irony. Had he imagined being able to see? Had his damaged brain conjured what he expected to be the truth? He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, then cracked his eyes open again. The room, and his stomach, lurched. He groaned and closed his eyes for a second time.

'Tony, you just looked at me. You can see! Why have you closed your eyes? Are you ok?' Abby's excited but concerned voice cut through the haze.

'Dizzy,' he murmured, unable to elaborate. 'What happened?' he asked.

'Felt like an earthquake.'

'In D.C.?' There was a commotion going on outside the room, and he felt Abby leave his side for a moment. She returned within seconds.

'There's been an explosion in ICU,' she informed him in a panicked voice. 'They're evacuating the hospital as a precaution.' Tony's blood ran cold.

'Gibbs?' He knew he needn't have asked. What were the odds of somebody else in the ICU being the target of someone who had access to explosives?

'and Ducky. He's up there too.' Abby confirmed. 'Tony, what if..?' Tony raised a hand to silence her.

'Don't, Abbs,' he whispered. 'I need to get up there.'

'Don't be stupid, Tony. The elevator will have been shut off,' the forensic scientist protested. 'You can't even sit up without getting dizzy.'

'So you want me to just sit here? Abby, they could be hurt, or worse. I have to know.' After everything that had happened over the past week, there was no way Tony was going to give up on Gibbs without a fight. The man had already survived impossible odds, and it couldn't end like this. Tony wouldn't let it; though what he could actually do about it wasn't something he wanted to consider right now. He opened his eyes and forced himself to stand. 'Anyway,' he continued. 'I've seen this movie. The bad guys blow up the hospital and after it's been evacuated, they slip in and shoot the good guys. I can't let that kind of cliché happen on my watch.' Tony was sure he saw the scientist roll her eyes and smile slightly.

'Get in the wheelchair,' Abby ordered, gesturing to the contraption she had appropriated earlier. 'At least it'll be easy to get to the stairs.' He readily complied.

Abby had been right – getting to the stairs was the easy bit. Making it to the first floor was quite the opposite. Even with the scientist's help, Tony's head protested at every movement, and he had to stop to quell the nausea several times. This must be the slowest-moving, most ineffective rescue party in history, he considered. Some detached corner of his mind briefly wondered if they could make the Guinness book of world records before he forced himself to focus on the job at hand and continue his climb. After what felt like years, they made it to the next floor, and Tony stopped once again to catch his breath. Looking around, he noticed evidence of falling plaster in the hallway. Not a good sign – they were still a good twenty metres from what Abby had told him was Gibbs' room, and they could already barely see two feet in front of them. If the explosion had taken place in the room itself… Tony forced himself to stagger down the corridor, Abby supporting much of his weight, until they reached their destination.

'No.' The single word of anguish from Abby tore through Tony's heart the way nothing had for many years. Most of the room was devastated, and the far side of the bed utterly destroyed. Injuries from a blast like that would have been horrific. The chances of a healthy man surviving them were very low. For an intensive care patient, he estimated the odds would drop to close to zero. There was nothing Tony or Abby could do. There never had been.

The forensic scientist was shaking now. She buried her head in his shoulder and he could feel the hot tears soaking through his hospital gown. Tony clung tightly to her, screwing his eyes shut to quell the rising nausea. He was close to collapse, but he couldn't do that to Abby. Not now. He guided her to the wall and leaned against it, allowing it to take some of their weight, then slowly sank to the floor.

'Abigail? Anthony?' a voice sounded from immediately above them. Ducky. By some miracle he was unharmed. Abby squealed and launched herself at the older man.

'DiNozzo. You all right?' a second voice reached him from just a two feet away. This time it was at ground level. Tony spun his head to the side, immediately regretting it as his stomach began to churn dangerously. Gibbs was sitting on the floor, examining him closely. The man was bruised and bloody, but there was no doubt that he was alive. Tony reached out, afraid that his team leader was some kind of mirage.

'Boss?' Relief surged through him as his hand made contact with the older man's shoulder, but with it came an uncontrollable wave of nausea. Tony cringed, mortified. He was going to throw up in front of Gibbs. He retracted his hand and turned his head away, vomiting all over the floor. To his surprise, he felt a hand on his arm, and his head was guided onto Gibbs' undamaged right shoulder. He found himself wrapped in what appeared to be a one-armed Gibbs hug. He nearly passed out in sheer disbelief.

'You're okay Tony,' Gibbs' voice was softer than he'd ever heard it before. 'Take it easy, I've got you.' He tensed for a moment, but Gibbs' gentle tone melted the last of his resistance, and he allowed himself to relax. He closed his eyes, and began to consider that maybe Gibbs did have a soft side after all.