Tony climbed the stairs toward the guest room once more. Tim was stuffing some clothes into his overnight bag as he approached the door. He politely knocked on the open door and McGee looked over at him. "Hey, Tony," he said as he zipped his bag up. "Thanks for picking this stuff up for me."
"No problem," Tony said as he entered the room. "I called Andy's friends. One of them is there with her right now. She's gonna stay for a while."
Tim looked back at him, "You called them?"
"Yeah, I figured...maybe it'd be a little easier."
"Thanks..." he slipped back into an emotionless state. "Hey, ya think Gibbs minds if I stay here for a while?"
"Don't think he'll mind at all," Tony replied. "You hungry? Or...want a drink or somethin'? I could bring you a beer..."
"Uh," he glanced over at him for a moment. "Sure, I guess...I'll have a beer."
Tony grinned, satisfied that he'd weaseled his way into possibly getting the probie to talk to him, "Be right back." He turned out of the room and hurried down the stairs to grab a couple bottles of beer from the fridge.
"Private party?" Gibbs asked as he entered the kitchen behind him, slightly startling the agent.
"McGee said he'd have a beer," he explained. "Figured he might wanna talk...maybe."
Gibbs cocked his head, "He doesn't wanna go back to the hospital, I take it."
"He said he was gonna stay here for a while if it was okay with you," he told him.
"I'd rather him stay here right now, actually," Gibbs told him.
Tony nodded in agreement, then walked past him and to the stairs. Once he reached the guest room, however, McGee had curled up on the bed and was already fast asleep. Tony sighed; setting down the beers on the side table, he grabbed a blanket from the chair beside the bed and covered the agent up to his shoulders. "G'night, McGee," he whispered, softly patting his friend's shoulder before turning out the light and leaving the room...
11 00 11 00 11
Next day; 1500 hours...
"Hey, Duck," Gibbs said into his phone as he poured himself some more coffee in the kitchen.
"Ah, Jethro...I was wondering why I hadn't seen you in the office today. Anthony tells me you're keeping young Timothy company."
"Actually, that's what I'm callin' about. He's still sleepin'. Hasn't gotten up since he crashed last night."
"Well, it's perfectly normal for someone who's gone through this kind of loss. I imagine he's in a state of depression."
"Yeah, I expected as much," Gibbs said. "But my main concern is his health. He still hasn't eaten anything, other than a few bites of a sandwich I brought him to the hospital."
"He needs to eat something, Jethro. Perhaps you can convince him to have at least some soup or something. He'll end up in the hospital, himself, if he continues down this road. I've not got anything lined up this afternoon; maybe I can leave here and come by to check up on him now."
"Sounds good, Ducky. Thanks. I'll try and get him to wake up," he ended the call and headed up the stairs toward the guest room. As he'd seen him before, McGee was still balled up on his side and tangled in the blanket thrown over him. Gibbs made his way around the bed, sitting on the edge of it before putting a hand on the agent's shoulder. "McGee," he gently shook him. Tim groaned. "C'mon; time to get up."
Tim's eyes cracked open and focused on his boss, "What time is it?" he asked, groggily.
"Little after three," he replied.
McGee pushed himself up, abruptly, "I...gotta get back to Andy."
"Andy's got someone with her," Gibbs assured him. "And they know to call if anything changes."
"Still, I should be there," he insisted.
"Not till ya eat something and let Ducky take a look at you."
"Why does Ducky need to look at me? I'm fine," he argued.
"You're not eating. We're worried about you," Gibbs narrowed his eyes at him.
Tim rubbed his palms against his eyes, "I'm not hungry."
"Are ya sick?" Gibbs squinted.
"No," he dropped his hands. "I just don't feel...hungry. Just tired all the time."
"'Cause ya need to eat, Tim. Gotta at least try."
*~.~*
Gibbs managed to convince McGee to come down and eat; even if it was only for the simple fact that he'd bribed him with taking him back to the hospital if he would. Tim ate the entire bowl of soup, and Ducky soon came through the front door.
"I see you've managed to finally eat something," the doctor said as he entered the kitchen. "How are you feeling, Timothy?"
"I'm okay, Ducky," he replied, flatly.
"I hear you had a good amount of sleep. Mind if I have a look at you?"
"Honestly, Ducky, I'm not sure what you're checking me for. I haven't been hurt," he told him, slightly aggravated.
"I'm not so sure that's entirely true," he said in a sullen voice. McGee just looked at him, a bit confused. "Have you been having any headaches or nausea?"
"I've had a headache," he told him with resignation. "One long headache that hasn't gone away."
"Now that you've eaten, that might ease up a bit," Ducky told him.
Tim looked up at Gibbs who was leaning back against the counter, "Can you take me to Andy now, please?"
Gibbs glanced at Ducky for a moment, then back to Tim before he nodded. "As long as you call one of us when you're ready to take a break," he told him. "You can't just sit around a hospital all day and night."
"Yes, dear boy. You must get up and walk around a bit; make sure you eat what your body needs," Ducky added.
"Look, if you're done lecturing me, I'd really just like to go," he said with slight frustration showing in his voice. "I can take care of myself; I don't need to be told how to live."
"Apparently ya need to be told when to eat, though," Gibbs narrowed his eyes at him.
Tim brought his fist down on the table-top with a bang, "Damnit, Gibbs! I ate the damn soup! What do you want from me?" The two older men remained silent, a bit shocked in the behavior. But Gibbs was moderately relieved to see some kind of emotion from his agent. Then Tim's features softened and he looked down at the table, "I'm...I'm sorry, Boss..."
"It's okay," he said.
"What?" he looked up at him with a furrowed brow. "No 'don't apologize' speech?"
"That really what you need to hear right now?" Gibbs asked, raising his brows.
"Maybe," he replied. "I'd like to stop being treated like I'm gonna break! Nothing you all say is gonna break me anymore than..." his voice tapered off after in cracked. He looked back down at the table before pushing himself away from it and standing. "Can we please go?" he asked in barely a whisper.
11 00 11 00 11
"I went by his apartment last night to see if he was okay," Abby told Tony in the bullpen; worry spread across her face. "But he wasn't there."
"He stayed at Gibbs' house," Tony told her.
"Is that why they're both not here?" she asked with raised brows. "Gibbs is watching over him?"
"Was," Gibbs explained as he walked into the bullpen. "He's back at the hospital with Andrea, now."
"He doin' any better, Boss?" Tony asked.
Gibbs cocked his head as he sat at his desk, "He ate a bit."
"That's good," Tony replied. "Don't ya think someone should be over there with him?"
"Yeah," he narrowed his eyes at the agent. "Yeah, I do, DiNozzo. But I also think he wants some space."
"But Gibbs!" Abby stalked to his desk. "Tim needs his friends around him..."
"He's got us around him, Abs," he replied. "But he needs some space. Trust me; I think I know a little about this," his eyes darted back and forth between hers. Slowly, her features softened. With a small nod, she turned and headed for the back elevator. Gibbs looked down at his desk for a moment, but feeling Tony's eyes on him, he looked up and met them. The agent swallowed. "When we're done here, you go sit with him a while," he said, quietly. "In the meantime, let's get this report finished."
11 00 11 00 11
1830 hours...
Ziva watched Tony from her desk as he ran his hands down his face and scratched at his neck. "Tired, Tony?" she asked.
He looked over at her, "Not really. Just a little anxious." Before she could respond, Tony's cell rang and he fetched it from his pocket. "Tony DiNozzo," he answered. There was a pause as he listened. "Yeah, he's my partner. Who is this?" Another long pause. "What?" he stood abruptly, and Ziva looked at him curiously. "When?... Okay. Alright, I'm on my way," he ended the call and headed quickly toward the elevator.
"Tony," Ziva stood and turned toward him. "What has happened?"
"I've gotta go get McGee," he replied vaguely as the elevator doors opened and he ducked in, nearly knocking into Gibbs.
"Where you goin', DiNozzo?" he asked.
"Hospital," he replied, hitting the button when Gibbs decidedly stayed with the seemingly panicked agent. "Andy's dead," he explained. Gibbs' gut twisted at the words. "Died over half an hour ago, but McGee won't leave the room. He's just sitting there staring into space; not responding to anyone who comes in."
"Damnit," Gibbs cursed under his breath. "Shoulda let you go sit with him..."
"You couldn't have known, Boss. This isn't your fault."
Gibbs took a breath through his nose, "Bring him to my house; stay with him there. I'll try and wrap things up here." Tony nodded as the doors opened and he hurried out...
11 00 11 00 11
Tim was only partially aware of the voices around him. His heart had sunk so deeply in his chest, he found it hard to feel anything else. More than anything, he wanted to run as far as he could from that room. But he couldn't seem to make his body do what his brain was ordering. A small part of him wished he hadn't told his friends to leave him alone. At least they could take him from this place...
*~.~*
"We thought maybe he was in shock," the nurse explained as she walked with Tony toward the room. "But he won't let anyone near him. The doctor was thinking about having him moved and admitted, but since he's an agent, we thought it best to see if one of you could get through to him, first."
"Thanks," Tony said as they approached the door. As he entered, he flinched slightly at he unreadable look on Tim's face where he sat. Moving closer, he crouched down in front of him, placing a hand on McGee's, which rested on one of his knees. "Tim?" he said quietly, and was surprised when he immediately focused his eyes at him. Something seemed to break in the younger agent, then. Tears immediately formed in his eyes; breathing came in shorter bursts as his face twisted with pain.
A choking sob escaped McGee as he slid from the chair down to the floor on his knees. Tony pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling Tim's hands grip fistfuls of the back of his shirt as he sobbed. "It's gonna be okay," Tony told him; his own eyes brimming with tears for his friend. "Everything's gonna be okay..."
11 00 11 00 11
tbc...
