"You mind if I get some shut-eye? You don't need to stay." he finally questioned out of politesse, but he was so tired that he couldn't wait to hear Gibbs' answer and soon he was out of it.

The next time Tony opened his eyes, the room was so bright that he had to blink a few times to get a clear vision of everything. He was alone in the room but a couple of seconds later the door to the bathroom opened and McGee walked out.

"Oh, hey, you're awake."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say 'You think, McObservant?', but he stopped himself right in time. Staying quiet, he just studied the younger agent.

When McGee saw that Tony wasn't about to say anything, he decided to start the conversation himself. "Boss had to go back to the office to take care of a few things."

Tony still didn't comment.

"I didn't have much to do, so I thought I'd hang around." McGee shrugged uncomfortably.

Tony kept staring at him.

"Um, Tony?" Tim sounded alarmed and a bit scared. "Can you... Umm, can you hear me?"

Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes."

"Oh, good." he smiled and heaved a sigh of relief. "Good."

Damn, it was like McGee had switched places with his old self; the one who'd just started working as a field agent and wasn't sure how to act around other agents.

"So? What's up?" He asked when Tony remained quiet.

Tony raised an eyebrow. 'Seriously, what did Tim expect him to say in answer to that question? He was in a hospital for God's sake, what news could he possibly have?'

"Oh... Umm, I... Well, I... You know what? Forget it. I'm terrible at small talk." The junior agent stammered.

"What are you doing here, McGee?" Tony finally took pity on him; he would've grinned if he was in the mood, but well, he wasn't. "You look like shit. Go home and get some rest."

"Oh, no. I can't. I'm your protection detail." His eyes then widened a little, like he'd just realized what he'd said. "No, I mean well, yes, I am your protection detail, but I actually wanted to make sure you were alright, too."

Tony tried to smile and much to his chagrin, he failed. He was great at undercover work, why was it so hard to smile these days? "I'm good, thanks." He sighed. "But seriously, go home... or I don't know... Go back to the office. I can take care of myself. I probably will be discharged today. No point for you to waste your time here."

McGee looked hesitant; he wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, Gibbs had ordered him to stay there. On the other hand, he could help more in the office and if they got their suspect, Tony would probably rest better, right? Besides, it was really uncomfortable to spend the whole day in one room with this reserved and quiet Tony. "Are you sure?" He finally asked.

"Positive." Tony nodded his head and watched as the younger man murmured a goodbye and walked out of the room, clearly relieved.

'Was he such a bad company that Tim looked so stricken when he had to stay by his side?' He mentally shook his head; what was he expecting? His team didn't really think that highly of him, of course they'd look troubled if they'd no choice but to spend their time with him.

Part of him knew that it was the drug in his system that was turning him into a drama queen and he hated it, so he just closed his eyes again and drifted off, hoping to feel stronger the next time he opened his eyes.

He hadn't had his eyes closed for more than a few minutes when the door to his room opened again and someone walked in. He wanted to groan and tell whoever it was to leave him alone, but something was off. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he smelt the old, yet familiar odor of cheap cologne.

Keeping his eyes shut, Tony tried to keep his breathing slow and even, so that Mark Clarkson would think he was still out for the count.

Gibbs had refused to leave him his gun, telling him that it was against hospital policy and that he wasn't allowed to shoot anyone, anyway, not until he was cleared for duty again; but at least, he'd left him his knife which Tony was currently clutching in his right hand, waiting for the right moment to use it.

Mark had never been the sharpest tool in the box, neither had he been patient; the fact that he'd stopped playing games after killing his second victim showed that he hadn't changed much in prison and Tony hoped that he still was a little bit dumb, which unfortunately seemed to be one of the characteristics that had changed in him.

"I know you're awake. Drop the act." He snarled. "I won't make the same mistake twice."

"Which would be?" Tony asked and opened his eyes, hatred and disgust clear both in his tone and his eyes.

"I underestimated you once; won't happen again." The other man clarified with a malicious smirk at the corner of his mouth.

Tony looked totally unfazed. "You'll never get away with this. Everyone knows who you are and they're looking for you." He stated confidently.

Mark rolled his eyes. "They won't find me."

Admittedly, he was looking different from the picture that they had of Mark Clarkson, but Tony wouldn't say it aloud.

"Besides," Clarkson continued, "I don't care. All I care about is killing you and I want to see the fear in your eyes when I do that."

"Then why did you try to shoot me from a rooftop across the street?" Tony smirked. "And it would've been a quick death, mind you, have I not moved." He mimicked Ducky's calm demeanor and tone of voice.

Mark shrugged. "Well, let's just say my plans changed after that. You betrayed me; you pretended to be my friend and then you stabbed me in the back. You deserve a slow and painful death."

"I cleaned up the streets from you, you dirtbag." Tony said coldly while quietly he willed his opponent to get closer to him.

"And I'm going to clean up the same streets from you, you backstabber." The criminal growled angrily. Taking one last step forward, he pulled out a sharp knife and put it on Tony's neck, pushing it down only a little bit.

Instantly there was a stream of blood welling up from the wound on his neck and Tony knew that although it was risky, if he didn't act quickly, Mark would succeed and he'd be dead in no time; which meant Mark could get away with murdering those innocent kids and disappear for good.

He couldn't let that happen; he owed those people who'd died in revenge against him; he owed their families. He couldn't let their deaths be in vain and he couldn't let their killer walk away.

Moving was hard with his left arm strapped to his chest, but he was trained and seasoned; so, with one fluid motion, he brought his hand out from under the sheet and dug the knife into the other man's chest. "This... Was for Lorie." Tony spat.

Mark's eyes widened in shock; he'd once again underestimated Anthony DiNozzo and this time he was going to pay for it with his life and if he was going to die, he'd make sure he'd gotten his revenge first. He pushed the knife harder against Tony's neck but Tony, despite being the one in the bed, was faster; he pulled the knife out and then once again dug it, this time upper, in Mark's chest.

It was a daunting task with the position he was in, but he had no other choices. "This one... Is for Martin." He panted.

Mark let out a laugh. "Their death did hurt you. Good." He pulled his own knife back and turned it between his fingers so he could dig it in Tony's throat when Tony twisted the blade inside his chest and then pushed the psychopath back.

'He still is a little bit dumb.' Tony thought tiredly.

Mark staggered back and fell on his butt. Coughing up blood, he looking down at his own chest with bemusement and merely moments later, he dropped to his side and his eyes fixated on something under Tony's bed, unfocused and glazed over.

Tony's vision was getting darker, too and for the first time he noticed the warm blood covering the front of his hospital T-shirt. Apparently Mark'd got him better than he'd initially thought.

The last coherent thought on his mind was that he should reach for the button to call for a nurse, but his hand never reached its goal and a few inches from the call button, it went slack as Tony lost consciousness.

...

Back at the office, Gibbs, who was checking some of the files, heard the telltale sound of an elevator arriving and feeling something in his gut, he turned around in his chair to see who was exiting the elevator and his eyes widened in shock when he spotted McGee. "What the hell are you doing here? Who's with DiNozzo?" He roared.

"Umm, well, he didn't want me there. He pretty much asked me to leave." McGee looked miserable; he knew Gibbs would be furious, but he didn't think he could stay with Tony in that room and he seriously doubted that Mark would be stupid enough to go after Tony in the hospital. "I swear, Boss, I-"

"What part of protection detail was not clear to you?" Cutting McGee off, Gibbs yelled at the junior agent. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He didn't wait for an answer as he grabbed his gun and ran out of the bullpen. His gut was churning and he knew that it had something to do with Tony.

On his way to the hospital, he called ahead and asked them to check on Tony. He had to hang up since they wouldn't stay on the line to give him a report, but he really hoped that he hadn't been late in saving his best agent and that McGee's rookie mistake -or was that just selfishness- hadn't cost Tony his life.

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... TBC ...

A/N: Let me know what you think?

Short chapter; I know and I'm sorry... But RL doesn't care when I say I just wanna sit here and write my fiction!

Thanks again for all the reviews, favorites and alerts. :)

All mistakes are mine.

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