A/N. Thank you for being so continually fantastic with the feedback, and sorry for not posting last night – couldn't get the chapter to finish itself. I think I'm nearly done now. One more chapter to go plus an epilogue, if my brain does as it's told for once. Here's the next instalment. Hope you enjoy.

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This time, at least, Tony came to slowly. The whole *passing out then waking up again* thing was getting really old really quickly and despite eating virtually nothing for days, he was still feeling really queasy. It was bearable, he decided, if he didn't move; or open his eyes. He resolved to do neither. Instead he lay still, taking slow, even breaths and tried to remember what exactly he had been doing when he'd passed out this time. As his brain gradually reconnected with his body, he became aware that he was not alone. Somebody was rhythmically running a hand up and down his back. Felt nice. He racked his brain, desperately trying to remember what had happened. A few moments later, images began to flash through his mind and the memories came flooding back. The last thing he remembered was sitting on the floor outside ICU. He and Abby had both thought that Gibbs and Ducky were dead. He remembered the overwhelming feeling of relief on discovering that both men were very much alive, and the few moments of terror when he'd thought that he was going to throw up all over Gibbs. The strange thing was, Gibbs hadn't seemed to mind at all. In fact, Gibbs had spoken to him in a very un-Gibbs-like way. He hadn't sounded worried exactly, but he had been nice. Maybe Gibbs had hit his head on something during the explosion? That would certainly have explained the personality change. DiNozzo could swear he could recall Gibbs hugging him, but Gibbs wouldn't do that, would he? No, he distinctly remembered it. Gibbs had definitely had an arm around him when he had passed out on the older man's shoulder, and now somebody was rubbing his back. No. That didn't bear thinking about. A hug in a moment of crisis was one thing, but if Gibbs was rubbing his back, that would mean he really had been replaced by some kind of creepy alien simulant. Maybe, Tony decided, if he stayed still long enough, Gibbs would go away, and neither of them would ever have to suffer the embarrassment of acknowledging any of this.

'Tony, I know you're awake. I can see you thinking.' The hand moved to rest on his cheek. Abby. Tony laughed out loud with relief.

'What?' The forensic scientist demanded.

'Nothin, Abbs,' he murmured. There was no way he was going to tell anyone what he had been thinking. Ever. 'Everyone okay?' he asked.

'Ducky's fine,' she informed him, 'nothing but a few bruises. They've patched Gibbs up again. He tore some of his stitches and broke a couple of ribs, and would you believe he got two mattress springs stuck in his leg from the explosion? They had to cut them out. Totally gross, huh? He's in post-op recovery.'

'He'll be okay though, right?'

'I think so. Ducky's with him. Once he starts to come round, they'll bring him back here and we can check on him for ourselves. Speak of the devil…' she finished as Ducky walked through the door, followed by an orderly pushing Gibbs' bed, which he positioned at the far corner of the room before exiting the way he had come.

'You called?' Ducky smiled, catching the tail-end of the conversation.

'How is he, Ducky?' Tony asked, forcing himself to open his eyes and pull himself to a sitting position.

'He's fine,' a voice growled from the corner.

'And awake,' Tony concluded. Gibbs snorted.

'Well deduced, Sherlock.'

'…with his charming personality completely restored,' Tony added. Before Gibbs could respond, Ducky chose to intervene.

'Gentlemen, please. You both need to rest. That's an order,' he looked at them sternly. Ducky had quite a glare of his own when he wanted to, Tony thought, added to which, he was right as usual.

'You too, Duck,' Gibbs added.

'I'm fine, Jethro.'

'You've been here, what? Three days? You've been awake almost constantly for seventy-two hours, not to mention blown up. You and Abby need to go home and get some sleep. DiNozzo and I will be fine here without you. That's an order too,' he added. Ducky sighed.

'Very well, Jethro. Abigail and I will be back tomorrow,' the medical examiner conceded. 'Do try not to kill each other in the meantime.'

Tony watched as the two departed then turned his attention to his new roommate. Gibbs, in turn, was scrutinising him closely. The attention made him feel….nervous.

'So, finally alone, huh?' he attempted to distract the older man from his examination. Gibbs snorted again.

'Go to sleep, DiNozzo.'

'Aw, c'mon boss, I just woke up,' Tony complained loudly. 'Maybe we could get hold of some cards and…' he paused as he was subjected to a slightly unfocused Gibbs glare. '…or maybe not,' he finished. He lay silently for a few minutes, observing the senior agent. The older man looked…uncomfortable. Tony guessed that with damage to both his legs, his ribs, his shoulder and his side, Gibbs was going to have problems finding any comfortable position in the immediate future. Tony continued to watch as his team leader inadvertently put pressure on his injured ribs. The older man's face screwed up with pain.

'Are you all right, boss?' he echoed the words Gibbs had used just a few hours ago. Tony pulled back his covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He paused for a moment to allow his brain to catch up with the movement. 'I could go get a nurse or something?'

'Set one foot on the ground, DiNozzo, and I swear I'll come over there and cuff your ankles to the bedrails,' Gibbs growled. Tony wasn't absolutely certain he wasn't bluffing. 'Ducky told you to rest. It's about time you started listening.'

Tony sighed. He guessed Gibbs was through being nice. He knew the older man had his best interests at heart, but Gibbs' whole 'Do as I say, not as I do,' approach to injury could be damned frustrating. He pulled his feet back onto the bed, lay down and closed his eyes.

'Guess we're going to be stuck here together for a while, huh?' he asked after a few moments.

'Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that,' a familiar voice responded. Tony's eyes shot open. Mary O'Connell was standing in the doorway, a silenced sig in her hand. Tony groaned.

'Not again,' he complained, glaring at the new arrival. 'This really isn't my week.'