WARNING: The following is an alternate ending to Futile Beholder. But when I think about it, it's pretty much an alternate 2nd half of the entire story lol. Picks up right after chapter 18.

Many things ahead that I should probably mention are graphic in nature, but won't say in detail here, because I don't wanna ruin the story.

So this will probably be several chapters long; not just one or two, as it'll be a lot more involved than happy sappy holiday cheer. ;) Enjoy, sadists! Hahahaha xD

11 00 11 00 11

"People here for Mr. Gibbs?" a doctor's voice caused them to shoot up from their chairs.

"That's us," Tony supplied.

"Either of you don't happen to be a uh...Jackson Gibbs," he read from a chart he held in his hands, "Or an Anthony DiNozzo Jr., do you?"

"I'm Anthony DiNozzo," Tony spoke, showing the man his badge.

The doctor nodded. "You're the only two listed in next of kin, and the only people I can speak to about Mr. Gibbs' condition at the moment," he told him.

"AgentGibbs," Tony corrected. "Tell me. Is he okay?" he asked impatiently.

The doctor glanced briefly to Abby, then back to him. "Perhaps we can go somewhere a bit more private-"

"She works with us," Tony interrupted. "She's like a daughter to him. Whatever you have to say, you can say it to both of us."

The doctor nodded. "Very well. Agent Gibbs was brought in unconscious. He has yet to regain consciousness, and from what little we've gotten out of radiology, in combination with obvious external head injury, we believe he may have some cerebral hemorrhaging. We're prepping him a CT scheduled for as soon as possible, which shouldn't be much longer now."

"Brain damage?" Tony was surprised the words passed his lips, with the sinking feeling that had him finding it difficult to remain even the slightest bit calm, let alone breathe.

"I can't dismiss the possibility. Right now he's breathing on his own, and that's a good sign. But there's no response to external stimuli. As of this moment, I can't make an accurate diagnosis until we can get him through a CT, and possibly an MRI if necessary. The rest of him looks to be in good condition; x-rays showed there are no broken bones, aside from the skull fracture, obviously. That's our main concern. We need to look more closely at that to determine the best course of treatment for him."

"Can we see him?" Tony's voice cracked.

"One visitor at a time in the Critical Ward," the doctor clarified.

"Go ahead, Tony," Abby said, releasing her tight grip around his arm, that he only now realized she'd had.

Blindly, he was led down a long stretch of halls to a dimly lit room. "Some of our techs will be in shortly to bring him for the CT," the doctor explained. "You can stay as long as you want, but those scans usually take a while."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Tony said quietly. The doctor nodded in understanding before allowing him to enter to room.

Tony stepped up to Gibbs' bedside and appraised him with weary, anxious eyes. Though a bit on the pale side, with his head wrapped in gauze that had begun to bleed through a bit, the older man seemed to simply be sleeping. "You don't look so bad, boss," Tony said with a small smile playing on the corner of his mouth, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I told you this last-minute Christmas shopping was a bad idea," he said as he let out a breathy laugh that ended it a choked sob.

Tony pulled a chair close to the bed, and before he sank into it, he laid a gentle hand on the exposed part of Gibbs' forehead. Then, as he sat, he took the man's still hand in both of his shaky ones. "I've seen you in worse shape, Gibbs. You'll pull through this, just like all the other times. You're practically indestructible." He grinned as though the older agent could see him; as if he needed to show him that he was being strong for him. "You'll pull through this... you'll pull through this," he repeated, unsure of whom, exactly, he was trying to convince...

Tbc...