AN: Thanks to Kyrie for staying up into the wee hours with me tweaking this. Emerald, this one's for you!

Chapter 13

"Got what?" Abby bounced up and down.

"We need to figure out how Carlisle got Brad around, right?" Tim said. Without waiting for a response, he continued. "It's not like a library book. You can't just check out a car and return it when you're done. Unless-"

"Unless you have a ZipCar account!" Abby squeezed him tight. "That's brilliant, Timmy! Carlisle could pick up a car from a ZipCar spot, use it for all the kidnapping stuff, then return it."

"What is a ZipCar?" Ziva asked.

As Abby explained how the car-sharing service allowed people without a car to use one for a few hours when they needed it, Tim checked Carlisle's financials he had pulled earlier. "He's got an account, opened it three weeks ago."

"Now why would somebody who has a car sign up for this service?" Ziva asked.

"They wouldn't," Abby said. "Timmy, can you-?"

"Already on it, Abs," he said, working his way into the ZipCar system.

Abby looked over his shoulder. "Any luck?"

He found the record he was looking for and hit the print key. "We've got the bastard now."

"I will take this to Gibbs," Ziva said as she headed out the door, printout in hand.

"Wait, Timmy," Abby said. "So if Brad was at his house, why did he need to go back so early and check on him?"

Tim frowned. "Maybe he didn't," he said slowly. "Maybe he moved him. Did he stop at any point after he left his house before he went to the satellite office?"

Abby shook her head. "Nope. He didn't even get stuck in traffic." She pulled up satellite imagery of the building. "Maybe there's something nearby, an abandoned storage shed or something?" She sent it to the plasma and they walked over to stand in front.

Tim got as close as he could, searching for anything that might give them a clue.

"Oh!"

Abby's shout startled him.

"What is it, Abs?"

"McGee, look. No cars."

"What?"

She pointed at the screen. "There are no cars in the parking lot of the building." She clicked the remote to zoom out to show nearby buildings in the office park. "It's not 1700 yet, and every other building has a parking lot full of cars."

"So maybe this isn't an occupied building," Tim said, slowly. "Abs, that's great work." He used one of her computers to access the information on the station at his desk, peeking into the Lowell servers again. He found what he needed in the Facilities Department files. "That building was supposed to house offices and supplies for the plague vaccine production," he said. "Lowell has used it a couple of times for smaller projects, but isn't housing anything there now."

He kissed Abby on the cheek and headed to Interrogation, only to bump into Gibbs leading Tony and Ziva down the hallway.

"Boss, we know where they're keeping Brad!" He handed the team leader the address. "I sent the information to Legal to get a warrant - we should have it by the time we get there."

"And Pandi gave us the motive," Tony replied. "Carlisle didn't think any alternative therapy could beat out a medication. When one of the other researchers found out NIH was submitting the study to contest the drug's approval, he got really angry."

"Enough chatter," Gibbs said. "Let's go get Brad." As they rushed out, he called Abby out to have her track Carlisle's cell phone so they could pick him up once they knew Brad was safe.

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

As they entered the abandoned office building, Tim headed left and Tony right to clear the space. They had studied the blueprints on the way over, and Gibbs had picked the back warehouse space for himself and Ziva, sending the guys to clear the offices at the front. He hoped Gibbs and Ziva were able to clear the open section quickly and help them...

"Tony." Tim's whisper seemed loud in the quiet. "In here."

Tony quickly cleared the room on his side of the hall, then crossed over to look in and find Tim cutting ropes off of Brad.

"Oh, thank god," he said. "Is he ok?"

Tim nodded. "Seems to be," he said. "Banged up, but not seriously hurt."

Tony nodded and spoke into his wrist mic. "Ducky, we've got Brad in here. He's out, but doesn't look too badly hurt. I'll clear the rest of the offices, then you'd better get in here."

"Good work, boys," Ducky said, his voice loud in the earwig. "Mr. Palmer and I shall wait for your instructions."

With a nod to Tim, Tony headed back out and quickly, but thoroughly, cleared the rooms. He had just notified the medical examiner when a shot rang out from the warehouse.

Tony pounded down the hallway, Tim on his heels as they headed to help their teammates. When they reached the door to the warehouse, Tony paused and held up two fingers to indicate how they should enter. Tim nodded, and Tony spoke into his wrist: "Cavalry's here, Boss."

They slipped into the warehouse and hid behind boxes stacked near the wall to see that Gibbs was crouched behind another stack of crates on the opposite side with Ziva not far from him.

Carlisle had them pinned down from his position on a set of giant shelves that still held enough boxes to make a decent sniper's nest. He didn't have a clear line of sight on either Gibbs or Ziva unless they slipped out of hiding, but they also couldn't get at him without exposing themselves to gunfire. Tony motioned for Tim to work his way over to Gibbs, while Tony circled around to catch Carlisle from behind. There was a ladder to a catwalk about 25 feet behind Carlisle that would give him a clear shot so he could cover Carlisle, allowing the other three to subdue him.

Tim had almost made it over to Gibbs' position when Carlisle caught sight of him and aimed. Tony shouted a warning, but Carlisle caught Tim in the shoulder and he went down. Tony forced himself to focus on Carlisle, scrambling up the ladder to the catwalk that would lead him to the dirtbag's perch. Tim was wearing a vest, and surely the bullet had hit him there. As Tony ran across the metal walkway, he realized how long it had been since anybody had used it as dust clouds billowed up around him. He started coughing, but forced himself to keep going. Carlisle looked back and took off across the shelves. Tony heard shots ring out and glanced over to see Ziva cutting across the floor, gun out in front of her. Gibbs was over by Tim, but Tony couldn't see what was going on. He hacked and wheezed as he tried to cut Carlisle off. He couldn't risk a shot — between the coughing and the swaying of the catwalk, he was afraid he'd miss and hit Ziva. Fortunately, she was on solid ground and took Carlisle down with a shot to the knee.

Tony skipped half the steps from the catwalk to the shelves and stumbled over to Carlisle, who was writhing in pain. He pulled out his handcuffs and snapped them on the researcher, then sat on a crate and pulled out his inhaler. Ziva climbed up a crate and onto the shelf.

"Are you all right, Tony?" She bent over Carlisle and pulled out gloves before trying to stop the bleeding in his leg.

He nodded but kept his mouth shut to allow the inhaled medication to loosen the tightness in his chest. He looked over to where he'd last seen Tim and Gibbs and almost dropped the small dispenser. Gibbs was kneeling by Tim's side pressing on his shoulder as a pool of blood spread across the concrete floor and Tony could hear his voice over the earwig. "Duck, get back here. McGee's down, shot to the shoulder. Ziva hit the dirtbag, too - blew out his knee."

"Oh, Timothy," Ducky said. "I will be right there. Mr. Palmer, call for the ambulance, if you would."

Tony cursed and dropped off the shelf to the crate below, then to the floor. He wanted to run over to his partner, but knew that would just cause his lungs to seize up again and leave them with two agents down. He forced himself to walk. As he reached Gibbs and Tim, Tony dropped to his knees. "He's going to be OK, right? You didn't give him permission to die."

Gibbs didn't say anything, just looked at Tony, then away. Tony swallowed hard and noticed the pool of blood was spreading quickly, too quickly, even though Gibbs was applying pressure. He was about to call Ducky again over the mic when the medical examiner came running up, medical bag banging against his leg. Brad hobbled along behind him, his movements weak, and Tony got up to give him a hand.

"Knew you'd find me, Tony," Brad said, his voice rough and cracked.

Tony just nodded. "Brad, Tim can't... I can't lose him."

"He's tough, Tony. We'll fix him up. Paramedics are on the way." Brad knelt down next to Ducky, and the two of them put a field dressing on Tim, stripping off his Kevlar vest as Gibbs propped him up to slow the blood loss.

"DiNozzo." At Gibbs' voice, Tony looked at him. "You take my place with Tim. I'm going to check on Ziva."

Tony just nodded and shifted behind Tim to support his partner. He was heavier than Tony expected, almost heavier than when they would fall asleep with Tim sprawled across him. The phrase "dead weight" crossed his mind, and he shook his head.

"Tony?" Brad said.

"Nothing, Brad. Just me being an idiot."

"He's going to be OK," Brad said. "He's lost a lot of blood, but the paramedics will be here soon."

Tony swallowed heavily, knowing that the second part was key. A red stain was spreading quickly even through the pressure bandage. He flashed back to when Ari had shot both Gerald and Gibbs in the shoulders. This looked a lot more like Gerald's injury than Gibbs', and Gerald had been in rehab for more than a year. He tried not to think about the fact that, unlike Tim, they both had been conscious after getting hit.

He forced himself to sound normal. "No wonder he's passed out," he said, ignoring the tremor in his voice. "McSqueamish never was great with blood."

After that, he had to squeeze his eyes shut and not watch, not think about the possibilities. He wrapped his arms tighter around Tim, wishing he could just transfer his own strength to Tim, give him what he needed to hang on. He bent over and whispered in Tim's ear. "Come on, Timmy. You're not making me tell Mom and Dad and Sarah and Abby you didn't come out of this one. We saved the good guy and got the bad guy and now we have to go celebrate and you need to be there for that." He rested his cheek on Tim's head and tightened his grip. Normally he liked Tim's new, fitter body, but all he could feel were ribs and bony elbows and as the image of the skeleton in Abby's lab popped into his head, he focused all his energy on Tim. "You're strong, Tim. You can do this. You have to do this. Gibbs didn't give you permission to die, and neither do I." He slid his left hand down and interlaced their fingers, their matching rings rubbing together. As long as they could keep that connection, keep that bond, Tim would make it through. Tim would be fine. Tim didn't get badly hurt. That fell to him or Gibbs. He forced himself to focus on his own breathing, keeping it slow and even. He could feel the tightness in his chest that preceded an attack and knew he had to be there for Tim the way Tim had always been there for him.

Next thing he knew, the paramedics were strapping Tim on a gurney and racing him out. Tony tried to stand, but his legs wouldn't support him.

"Come on, Tony." Gibbs reached down and helped him up. "We're going to Bethesda, get you and Brad checked out. Balboa's team is here to process the scene, and Ziva will ride with Carlisle."

The ride across DC was a blur, and not just because Gibbs was driving. Tony sat in the front while Brad stretched out in the back. He gripped the door handle and forced himself to count his breaths. In...out...1. In...out...2. He didn't need to end up in the hospital like Sean... Oh, god.

"Sean," he croaked.

"I'm going to find him as soon as I clean up, Tony," he heard Gibbs say. "If Eileen and Sarah aren't there, I'll call them. Abby, too."

Tony just nodded and went back to counting. Tim had to be OK. He had to be.