Quietly, the nurse tiptoed through the dozing people to get to the person she was looking for. "Mr. McGee, sir?" When she received no response, she tapped Gibbs on the shoulder. For a moment he was confused, then remembered why she was calling him Mr. McGee. To cover his lapse, he rubbed at his face as if he were still trying to wake up. The nurse waited for a few seconds then continued. "They're going to start working on your son's hand now. It will be pretty uncomfortable even with the local we are giving him. The doctor thought it might be easier for him to have his father with him." She smiled and gave him an out. "Unless you're squeamish; it's not going to be pleasant."

"No, I can handle it." Gibbs quietly cursed the situation. Touchy-feely wasn't his strong suit and he wasn't sure how his youngest agent would feel about having his boss there when he was so vulnerable.

"Dad?" Tony knew that there was only one way he was going to get in to see his probie and he was going to take it. When Gibbs nodded he rushed to meet them at the entry to the emergency unit. Once the three of them were on the other side of the door, the nurse turned and studied the two men.

"I've been a Navy nurse for over half my life and if there is one thing I've learned in this job it's that family is a whole lot more complicated than blood." Busted, they waited for her to continue. "Just make sure his biological family isn't out of the loop, all right?"

Properly chastised, Gibbs gave an affirmative nod as DiNozzo grinned beside him as she lowered her voice. "Dr. Alder hasn't been in the military very long and has never seen combat, so he doesn't understand like the rest of us do. Just remember that."

______________________

Major Harrison moved to the chair Gibbs had vacated and sat down next to Jenny. The Director watched him through half closed eyelids as he opened his mouth to speak several times. Eventually she sat up. "Whatever you're working up to, Major, just spit it out."

"Ma'am, I just wanted to know that we're grateful for all the help your people gave us today and to apologize." Harrison studied the cap in his hand as he spoke.

"Apologize for what, Major Harrison?"

"I didn't take your man, McGee, seriously. He had good instincts and I shot him down."

"You underestimated him." It was a statement, not a question. She had seen it happen before, she had been guilty of it before but that wasn't something the Director of NCIS would ever admit to.

"Yes, Ma'am. I should have sent one squad of men with him and his partner. If I had, maybe he wouldn't have been injured. He's just so darn young, and with what he lived through as a kid… He has every right to be angry with me. I just hope he will accept my apologies."

Jenny thought through her words carefully as she spoke. "I may not know Agent McGee as well as some of the older agents, but what I do know of him is that he is slow to anger and very quick to forgive. All he will care about is that those little boys are home safe with their mother. It's going to take some time for him to recover from his injuries and from reliving what happened to him as a child, but he will have whatever help he needs."

Harrison gave a slow grin. "Quite an interesting family the young man has here. I'd like to consider myself a second cousin if I may."

"On his father's side?"

"Of course, Ma'am." He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, mirroring the rest of the family at rest.

______________________

By unspoken agreement, Tony was the first one to step up to the gurney that held his temporary little brother. After all, if the first words out of McGee's mouth were Boss or Gibbs it would be hard to explain. "Hey, Tim."

"Tony…" If anything, the kid looked worse than he had earlier. Bruises were now fully formed, covering his forehead and most of the left side of his face. Scrapes that Tony hadn't noticed before covered his right temple, but the worst was his hand. The beam of the flashlight had barely given him a glimpse of how torn the skin was in comparison to the view the bright lights here now gave.

"Hey, Timmy." DiNozzo tilted Tim's face slightly to look him in the eye to make sure he was understood. "The doctors won't let any of your friends in right now, so it's just Dad and me, okay?" He willed his friend to understand what he was saying. "Gonna have to settle for big brother and Dad for a little while."

The green eyes cleared for a moment as Tim's gaze moved between DiNozzo and Gibbs. "Hey, Dad." He gave a weak smile, and then grew serious. "Thanks."

As predicted, it took hours for the doctor to properly cleanse and treat the wounds on McGee's hand. No amount of painkillers short of the heavy narcotics they were loath to use could totally blunt the pain. Gibbs had been in battle, had seen his fellow Marines torn apart by bullets and land mines, but none of it had been as hard on him or left him feeling so helpless as the quiet gasps and trembling of his youngest agent.

"You're doing fine, son. Just focus on me, Tim." Gibbs sat at the head of the emergency room bed, a hand on each side of McGee's face as he bent over to maintain eye contact with the young man. He had done this with Kelly – kept her distracted while Shannon had cleaned and bandaged her skinned knees after her first day of bike riding – but never with an injury this bad. He refused to think about how easy it had been to slip into the role of father to one of the men under his command.

While Gibbs had chosen not to focus on the bloody hand, Tony found himself unable to look away. Basin after basin of quickly tinted water were used to clean away the dried blood and dirt before they began picking out the larger pieces of rock and grit with tweezers, using gauze to wipe at the blood their actions was bring up to the surface. As the pile of used cotton grew, so did Tony's nausea. Next, the doctor moved from the tweezers to a small scrub brush and began to rework the worst of the areas. Tony broke out in a cold sweat, unaware that he was now under the observation of one of the nurses in the room.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the brush was abandoned, but it was short lived as the doctor moved on to a small implement he didn't recognize and pulled a large magnifying glass over to give an even better view to not only the doctor but Tony as well. Methodically, Dr. Alder examined the exposed tendon that helped attach Tim's index finger to his hand, flexing the finger to make sure the tendon and the tissue surrounding it were repaired enough to heal without loss of function. As the tendon flexed, Tony's ears became ice cold, but he ignored the sensation, fixated on the sight in front of him. He blinked and found himself sitting on a stool, someone's hand forcing his head down between his knees. Embarrassed, but too light-headed to fight it, he remained like that until the hand was removed. He looked up in time to see the doctor cut into Tim's nail bed of his middle finger to drain the blood and fluid that was collecting there. He swallowed convulsively as the nurse grabbed him and rushed him out the door. They barely made it across the hall to a small restroom before the meager snack he had eaten in the helicopter made its reappearance.

Tony hung his head as he leaned against the sink. Needing to fill the silence he spoke to the nurse still standing behind him. "I haven't tossed my cookies like that since I was rookie at my first crime scene."

She rubbed his back and handed him a paper cup. "This isn't some random victim in there, it's your brother." As he straightened up their eyes met in the mirror. "Your kid brother if I'm not mistaken, right?" He didn't quite know what to say to that so he just nodded. It wasn't as true as she may think, but her words were truer than he cared to admit.

By the time she let him back into the room, they were almost finished wrapping a loose dressing over McGee's hand. Gibbs looked away from Tim as he silently asked the question.

"I'm okay." DiNozzo's answer was verbal, but barely. This time he sat rather than stood, with his back to the doctor's ministrations and focused his attention to his friend's face. The skin was even greyer, if that were possible and damp with sweat and tears. He didn't even seem aware of the tears still leaking from his half closed eyelids nor the fact that Gibbs was gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

A nurse leaned over and patted McGee's uninjured shoulder. "We'll let you rest here a bit, Agent McGee before we move you to a room upstairs. Your mother and the rest of the family can see you once we get you settled, but your dad and your brother can stay here with you." She checked the IV one last time before following the rest of the medical personnel out the door.

They had barely cleared the room before Tim started becoming restless. "Terry, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Terry, I didn't mean to get you killed." His mutterings were soft, almost sub-vocal, but the other two occupants of the room heard as if it had been shouted.

"It's all right, son. Everything's going to be fine." If Gibbs thought he was going to calm the younger man he thought wrong.

"Dad? Dad, I'm sorry, he killed Terry because I wasn't fast enough. It's my fault."

"No. No, Timmy, it's not your fault." Frantically, Gibbs tried to think of a way to get through to the injured man. "He was a bad man, Tim, and you were just a little boy. Nothing he did was your fault." He continued to soothe and started to relax as McGee began to fade off. Surprisingly, Tim's eyes opened and locked with Gibbs' for a brief moment.

"Grandpa said it was. He said the monster killed the wrong one. Terry was the important one."

Before Gibbs could take an unimpeded breath, let alone think of a response, Tim was sound asleep as the drugs, pain and exhaustion finally won the war.