Golden Child

A THOUSAND apologies for keeping you guys waiting for the end of this!! I've tried to make up for it by posting this extra large chapter. Thankyou for ALL the lovely PM's and reviews and encouragement. Hope the last couple of chapters don't disappoint. Zan

Chapter 10

When Gibbs first reacted to Abby's phone call, he was pretty much guilty of killing the messenger. There he was, alongside grieving and accusatory FBI personnel, a clamoring media pack and Fornell demanding answers, and then Abby had rung to tell him that McGee had sent him a recently snapped photo of Marcus Reed. She was worried and thought that Gibbs should know. Gibbs had been more terse and dismissive than he usually was with his forensic scientist before terminating the call.

Intellectually, Gibbs was aware that his most immediate concern was the crime scene he was looking at. McGee and Dinozzo were on their way to the hospital and not actively investigating any current case. There was no reason why he should be distracted by Abby's phone call. Gibbs had received no messages of distress from either of his agents. But even though his mind told him where his focus should be, Gibbs' gut was telling him a totally different story.

………………………………………………

'Abby's given me a positive I.D.' reported McGee as he and Tony continued to surreptitiously watch Reed from their vantage point. 'Let's call it in.'

As McGee went to dial 911, Tony swiftly took his the phone from his hand.

'Hey!' protested McGee.

'Calm down,' hissed Tony. 'Why call for help? We can take him. We are federal agents in case you've forgotten. Two against one is great odds.'

'But you're incapacitated!' McGee reminded him, his tone incredulous. 'And Reed is the one who did it! He's gonna know!'

'He doesn't know I'm not left-handed,' Tony told him, refusing to be put off. 'Come on. He's moving.'

McGee was about to protest further, but something propelled him into following the senior agent. Logically, it made no sense to do what they were doing, but he was mindful of how strained the atmosphere between he and Tony had become. He found himself wanting to just follow Tony's lead; to show him that he could be counted on to have the older man's six. Despite his obvious physical discomfort, Tony had that glint in his eye that often appeared when he was on the verge of breaking a case wide open. There was just no way of stopping the agent when he was operating in that mode.

The two NCIS agents followed Reed as he walked a short distance along the busy street. Neither man needed to say that it was too risky to take on their target in a place where there were so many potential hostages.

Suddenly their quarry walked briskly into a laneway, disappearing from view. Spurred on by Tony's enthusiasm, Tim jogged with the older agent to laneway entrance. Peering into the laneway, Tony could see no sign of Reed.

'Can't see him,' hissed Tony as McGee came to stand closely beside him. 'And he can't have made it out of the lane that quickly.'

Tony ignored the fresh twinge of discomfort in his hand and tightened his grip on the weapon he now held in his left.

'Maybe he's taking a leak,' suggested Tony. 'Time to flush him out.'

McGee groaned slightly at the pun before following Tony into the lane.

The NCIS pair followed standard procedure. They took turns watching each other's backs as they checked each doorway on the quiet laneway. When they had reached the end and then made their way back to where they had entered, McGee could sense Tony's frustration, but he could actually see the film of perspiration that was covering Tony's face. It was probably just as well that they had lost Reed. Tony's appearance at the hospital was long overdue.

'Come on Tony,' said McGee. 'We'll call in the sighting on our way.'

'You give up too easily,' Tony scolded him, his eyes scanning the streetscape. His keen eyes spied the movement of a shadow in the doorway of one of the buildings.

'Okay Reed,' he called out. 'We can see you. Come out where we can see you – nice and slow.'

Sure enough, Reed slowly emerged from his hiding place and moved slowly out onto the sidewalk.

'Now how nice is this?' said Tony. 'A little reunion. Just the three of us. Now you're gonna turn around, nice and slow so that Agent McGee here can cuff you. And then, guess what? You're gonna take a ride in his Saab after all.'

Unfortunately for Tony, his body took that precise moment to betray him. A surge of intense pain coursed down his injured hand and he involuntarily dropped the weapon to clutch at his right wrist. McGee only glanced sideways for a moment but was distracted enough to not notice Reed draw his own weapon and train it on a visibly paler Tony.

'Shoot me and I'll shoot him,' Reed spat at McGee.

'C-come on! He needs a hospital already,' stammered McGee. 'No thanks to you.'

'He'll need a morgue soon,' said Reed, sneering nastily.

'Shoot him McGee,' managed Tony through gritted teeth.

'No!' shouted McGee. It was true that he found the notion of killing a man abhorrent, but the idea of causing Reed to shoot Tony was a hundred times worse.

Reed laughed and snorted.

'You two should make some kind of comedy sitcom,' he suggested. 'Now, Agent McGee, you're gonna toss me the keys to your car and then all three of us will take a nice stroll to where you parked it.'

McGee kept his weapon trained on Reed, but he could see Tony in his peripheral vision. His colleague was shaking slightly and the lack of movie references coming from Tony's mouth told McGee that he was struggling to hold it together.

As Gibbs brutally took the corner into the laneway, the sight of three men came into view. There was no mistaking Tony's lanky frame. Marcus Reed, his back to Gibbs, had a weapon trained on the senior field agent while McGee had his gun pointed at Reed. Gibbs could well imagine what Tony was telling McGee to do, and while it was exactly what Gibbs would be saying, he wanted to head-slap Dinozzo into next week for saying it. Planning to take a sniper's hit at Reed, Gibbs pulled over; his eyes still fixed on the trio.

'Come on. Toss the keys,' repeated Reed, his fingers tightening on the trigger of his gun.

'Shoot him McGee,' grunted Tony, resisting the urge to sink to his knees as the pain in his hand went up a notch.

His mouth dry and his heart in his throat, McGee slowly reached into his pocket to remove his keys. He couldn't risk shooting at Reed because that would mean the killer would dispense with Tony. Maybe on their way to get McGee's car they would have an opportunity to over-power Reed.

But then something happened that caused a surge of greater annoyance – maybe even rage- than McGee could ever have imagined feeling under such fearful circumstances. As a groan of agony escaped Tony's lips, McGee saw a flash of enjoyment flicker across Reed's face. The awareness that this scumbag was getting off on his partner's suffering made McGee's blood boil. Knowing that Reed was expecting McGee to throw him the car keys, McGee did so, hard – right at the crim's face. Seizing the moment that Reed was caught off guard, McGee stepped forward and slammed his gun viciously against the side of Reed's head. Reed hit the ground with a thud, his eyes rolling back in his head.

'Way to go Probie,' uttered Tony weakly as Reed lay still. The agent had finally collapsed to his knees with exhaustion from the pain. 'You think you can get me to the hospital now?' he added as he stretched himself out on his back on the sidewalk.

McGee's jaw dropped open at the request. Tony actually requesting medical help was an extremely bad sign.

'I'm ringing an ambulance right now,' McGee told him as he felt for his phone.

'It's on its way,' came a gruff voice.

'Boss!' exclaimed McGee. 'How did….?'

''I'm gonna cuff this guy in case he wakes up,' said Gibbs. 'You watch Dinozzo.'

Gibbs' tone was harsh, but McGee got that the fact that he was delegating Tony-watch to him spoke of renewed approval and trust. Not wanting to screw it up, McGee crossed to Tony and squatted down in front of him. He could see the agent's eyes were becoming glassy and unfocussed.

'How're you doing?' McGee asked as he took off his jacket and spread it over the prone man.

'Mmm fine,' was the predictable, mumbled reply. Despite his announcement, Tony did not protest as McGee helped him to roll onto his side. From the ground, Tony enjoyed the distraction of Gibbs roughly cuffing the unconscious Reed to the base of a parking meter.

He wanted to ask why Gibbs was even there and how he knew where they were, but Tony didn't have the energy. Feeling the warmth of McGee's jacket, and hearing McGee say something indistinguishable, Tony shut his eyes.

Satisfied that Reed was secure, Gibbs was also pleased to hear the ambulance siren approaching from a few streets away. As he took the few steps towards his two agents, McGee looked up.

'Boss, I think he's going into shock,' McGee told him, his eyes full of concern. 'He's been in a lot of pain. He actually said he wanted to go to the hospital.'

'Go get your car,' Gibbs told him, dropping the keys into McGee's hand.

Tony fought to make his way through the fog that appeared to have invaded his brain. He was vaguely aware of Gibbs' voice, but that didn't make any sense, nor did the rough surface beneath his cheek. The pressure of a hand gripping his shoulder caused him to open one eye a crack to see Gibbs giving him a concerned assessment.

'Hang in there Dinozzo,' said the ex-marine.

An outsider would have described those four words as an instruction or command, harsh and inappropriate given the circumstances, but Tony took much strength from them – even though he couldn't fathom why he was seeing Gibbs there on the sidewalk with him. He must be hallucinating.

'You with me?' asked the hallucination.

Tony peered at Gibbs.

'Not real,' he said, his voice weak and strained.

'Real enough to make sure you get into the damn ambulance when it arrives,' Gibbs told him, moving his hand from Tony's shoulder to his forehead. The younger man's skin was cold and clammy.

'What about the navy base?' asked Tony as he slipped back into lucidity.

'What about it?' countered Gibbs as the ambulance pulled up, just as McGee returned in his car.

Conversation between Gibbs and his senior field agent ceased as the paramedics descended upon the scene. Tony could hear questions being asked by the newcomers and answered by McGee and by Gibbs. Lying there on the sidewalk, Tony felt oddly put out that they weren't asking HIM any questions, but then it was kind of nice to just let everything wash over him.

'….and how often was he complaining about the pain?' Paramedic 1 was asking McGee as Paramedic 2 was taking Tony's vitals.

'Well, he wasn't actually complaining much about pain,' said McGee, 'but at one point his hand must have really hurt because it made him drop his weapon, and before we even approached the suspect, I could tell he was hurting, even though he wouldn't admit it.'

''Hey! Isn't it saying enough that my agent's semi-conscious and going into shock from the pain he must be in?' barked Gibbs. 'Get him off the god-damn sidewalk before I drive him to Bethesda myself.'

Paramedic 1 looked down at Paramedic 2 who nodded his agreeance.

McGee and Gibbs stepped back to give them room to place Tony on the stretcher, the lower part of his right arm positioned carefully to avoid unnecessary jostling. As Tony was being loaded into the ambulance, Gibbs approached. Despite the seriousness of the situation, McGee smiled as he saw Paramedic 1 brace himself for an expected rant from Gibbs.

'Tony,' said Gibbs, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, as he placed his hand atop his agent's head. 'I'll meet you there. Take it easy.' He waited until Tony nodded before stepping back and rejoining McGee.

Once the ambulance was on its way, Gibbs turned his attention to McGee. Expecting an angry lecture about not following orders, McGee winced slightly in anticipation.

'Think you can handle taking this scumbag back to the office?' asked Gibbs, gesturing towards Reed. His tone was quiet and hard to read.

'Yes,' said McGee. 'I'll try not to mess that up,' he added.

'Not what I meant, McGee,' said Gibbs. 'Ideally at least two agents would escort a prisoner, but now there are two other places I've gotta get to, so if you're okay with it, I trust you to do it. Otherwise, call for a back-up.'

McGee's chest visibly swelled with pride. Strangely, despite failing his mission to get Tony to the hospital in the first place, all seemed to have been forgiven.

…………………………………..

Gibbs dropped into the visitor's chair in the hospital room and allowed himself to relax a little. The previous few hours had been busy to say the least. Once the medical staff had Tony thoroughly assessed and sent him into surgery to fix whatever the hell the problem was with his hand, Gibbs had sped back to the high priority crime scene and taken charge of proceedings there. Fornell hadn't been very happy about Gibbs leaving, but had wisely chosen not to do battle over it with him at the scene once he had returned. Gibbs had also contacted Ducky who had immediately liaised with the staff with Bethesda – an all-important detail when Gibbs would need a medical report in layman's terms. The crime scene secured and evidence gathered, Gibbs had sent Ziva back to NCIS. He had broken a few speed laws on his return to the hospital. And now here he was back with Dinozzo again.

Seeing Tony's nose wrinkle and lips twitch slightly, Gibbs leaned forward. As Tony opened his eyes a crack, Gibbs' face swam into focus. The all too familiar smell of antiseptic immediately told Tony that he was in the hospital.

'Hey,' said Gibbs, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Tony blinked once slowly in response before trying unsuccessfully to lift his right hand.

'Easy,' Gibbs warned him, his voice still quiet. 'No moving that until you get the all-clear from the doc. What me to call him?'

Tony gave a slight shake of his head. He was never in a hurry to see medical staff.

'Water,' Tony managed, hoarsely.

Gibbs passed the cup and straw left by the nurse to Tony's lips and waited until the younger man's mouth and throat were soothed and moistened.

'We've gotta stop having these meetings in hospital rooms, Dinozzo,' said Gibbs.

'Fine with me,' said Tony. 'Reed?'

'In custody,' Gibbs told him.

'McGee did good Boss,' was Tony's next comment. 'I dropped the ball. Probie… pretty resourceful.'

'Resourceful, huh?' said Gibbs, raising his eyebrows. He realized that Tony didn't know that Gibbs had watched pretty much the whole incident.

'What I wanna know,' the lead agent said, 'is why McGee didn't just shoot the bastard once his keys hit him in the face. Hell of a lot easier and less risky than whacking him with the gun.'

Tony was momentarily stunned by the psychic powers that his Boss must possess along with all the other powers, before he more logically reasoned that McGee must have given him a report. Actually, a light bulb suddenly pinged in his short term memory that told him that Gibbs had actually been at the scene. He hadn't been hallucinating after all.

'Probie gets squeamish,' Tony finally offered as an explanation for McGee's behavior. 'Besides, Reed said if McGee shot him, he'd shoot me. Guess he thought he'd whack him instead and then sue him later Reed shot me anyway.'

Tony stopped rambling and looked towards the water that Gibbs duly offered to him again. Jeez, I'm starting to sound like Abby Tony mused to himself as he felt the blessed liquid make its way down his throat. Damn anesthetic did it to him every time.

'Doesn't matter anyway,' Tony continued. 'Results matter; not the method.'

Hoping to change the subject and take any heat off McGee, Tony tried to get a look at his hand. It was heavily covered in post-surgical dressing.

Gibbs immediately answered Tony's unspoken question:

'Something about a clot, a nerve and a floating bone,' he told Tony.

Seeing his agent's eyes suddenly grow wider and a little fearful, Gibbs hastily added:

'Fine now though. Duck says there's reason why you won't get full use back.'

Tony shakily exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. It was scary to think that a stupid injury to his hand could have done what the plague, gunshot wounds and being framed for murder hadn't: ended his career.

Gibbs watched Tony's eyelids droop and wondered if he were drifting off to sleep again. Just as he was about to press the call button for the doctor, Tony spoke again.

'How'd you know where we were?' asked Tony, his face ashen, even against the white pillow.

'Abby,' Gibbs stated, simply. The older man saw understanding settle over Tony's face, and the beginnings of a fond smile. Again Gibbs found himself wondering about the relationship between his Senior Field Agent and Forensic Scientist. If there was anything more than friendship, Gibbs realized that he would not be nearly as outraged as he once would have been.

'What about the dead FBI agents?' was Tony's next question.

'Still dead,' Gibbs told him, grimly.

'Fornell needed you there,' argued Tony.

'Ziva had it covered,' said Gibbs.

Tony groaned inwardly at what Gibbs hadn't said. The lead agent had left a very important crime scene on the basis of a worried phone call and a hunch that his Senior Field Agent was in trouble that he couldn't handle.

'What about Vance?' asked Tony, his voice dropping to a whisper.

'I can handle Vance,' Gibbs told him.

'He pissed at you?' continued Tony.

'Not as much as he is at you and Golden Boy,' said Gibbs.

'How much?' gulped Tony.

'Oh, he hasn't said much,' Gibbs told him, 'but the words "foolhardy" and "inadequate back-up" were used more than once as I recall.'

Tony heaved a huge sigh and looked up at the ceiling.

'Guess I'll have to get my sea legs again then Boss,' he said forlornly.

Before Gibbs could assure Tony that he'd be made an agent afloat again over Gibbs' dead body, the doctor came in to check on his patient's progress and conduct an examination. Gibbs left the room and went in search of coffee and a quiet spot to make a phone call. By the time he returned, twenty minutes later, the doctor was emerging from the room.

'How is he?' demanded Gibbs, straight to the point.

'Agent Dinozzo is recovering very nicely,' the doctor told him. 'The new casts are doing their jobs, his blood pressure's fine and he'll only need to stay in one more night.'

'Medication?' asked Gibbs. Better that he hear the truth from the doctor instead of the lies from Tony.

'Just pain killers but only as required,' he was told. 'He has to avoid all use of that hand for four weeks if he wants a guarantee that full functioning will be restored.'

Thanks Doc,' said Gibbs, shaking his hand before re-entering the room. Tony looked even better than he had less than half an hour ago – probably because he knew his time in the hospital was going to be short, mused Gibbs. The head of Tony's bed was slightly inclined so that he was no longer lying completely flat. There was even a little more colour in the younger man' face. The bandaging around his hand had been reduced to three small splints.

'Hey Boss,' chirped Tony by way of greeting. 'Did you bring me pizza?'

Ignoring the question, Gibbs pulled the chair closer to the bed and began sipping his coffee. Rather than saying anything straight away, Gibbs caused Tony to squirm a little in the silence.

'What's goin' on, Boss?' asked Tony after a few more moments of non-communication. 'You're freakin' me out. Did the doc give you a different story than he gave me?'

Gibbs put the coffee down onto the meal tray and leaned slightly in Tony's direction.

'Really, what the Hell were you thinking approaching Reed under those circumstances?' demanded Gibbs, raising his voice slightly now that it appeared that Tony was definitely going to be fine.

'Come on Gibbs,' protested Tony, looking in vain towards the doorway for a glimpse of the friendly nurse, a visitor – even the doctor again. 'I was thinking exactly what you would have been thinking. Well, of course your thoughts would have been much more to the point and without movie references, but you'd have done the same thing.'

'Not with a busted hand that was giving me grief,' Gibbs told him, narrowing his eyes.

'Oh, but you would have with a head injury or broken ribs,' continued Tony, wondering if Gibbs was going to put him on desk duty for a month as punishment for begging to differ. 'And you can't deny it either, because you've been there and done that. If you had a chance to nail a killer who'd maimed one of your agents, you'd have to be practically dead before you'd let some injury stand in your way. I know how you get when it's personal.'

Gibbs raised his eyebrows at the candid assessment. He had been totally set on giving Tony a huge serve for reckless conduct and putting his own life in unnecessary danger, but now he found that he just couldn't maintain the rage. But he needed to tell Tony something for his own good. His mind churned with notions that Tony needed to be told to take better care of himself, that it was unnecessary for Tony to emulate the risks that Gibbs took, that he was far too reckless, that there was nothing more important than Tony being alive and healthy, that one day his luck might run out and that Gibbs would find his demise too painful to deal with.

'Just listen to what the damn doctor says or you can start looking for a job with more sick leave,' Gibbs told him in as stern a tone as he could muster.

'Oh that's harsh,' said Tony, pretending to be wounded.

'What's harsh? And Gibbs, you better not be delivering any head-slaps!' exclaimed Abby as she burst in, hearing Tony's comment.

'Not guilty. Not yet,' said Gibbs. Abby came to stand at Tony's bedside and ran a critical eye over the senior agent, looking for evidence that Gibbs had understated Tony's injuries but he had phoned her thirty minutes earlier. Seeing none, she pointed to Tony's hand that now featured three, separately splinted fingers (in addition to his thumb and pinky) and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

'I decided to have it done differently this time,' Tony quipped as though they were discussing hair styles. 'Less Bond villain. More Edward Scissorhands.'

'Ohhh, I LOVED Johnnny Depp in that!' gushed Abby, perching on the edge of the bed and entwining her hand with Tony's left one.

'Classic,' agreed Tony, squeezing her hand. 'What do you think Boss? Or was Pirates of the Carribean more your thing? There were more boats in that.'

'Definitely Pirates for the Bossman,' said Abby, jumping in before Gibbs had a chance to tell them he'd seen neither film. 'But stop distracting me by taking me down movie lane!' she scolded Tony. 'Can't you just be taken to hospital without confronting a serial killer and scaring me half to death?!'

'Now there's one less killer on the streets,' said Tony, his tone upbeat.

'You weren't supposed to be hunting killers,' Abby reminded him, squeezing his hand even harder as though he might be snatched away from her any minute.

'Abs, everything's worked out okay,' Tony said, trying to reassure her.

'But it might not have!' exclaimed Abby, her eyes boring into his as if that would make him understand. 'I get worried enough about you when you're actually supposed to be out there chasing after murderers. I don't want to have to start wondering about you being killed on your way to the mall, going for a jog or washing your car. I don't want to get a call from anyone telling me you're dead and you're not coming home. Trouble finds you enough, Tony. Don't start looking for it. Please!'

Tony's mouth opened as though he was about to reply, but closed as he realized he didn't quite know what to say to such an impassioned plea. Being in such close proximity to Abby, Tony could not miss the sincere concern – and something else- in her suddenly teary eyes.

Gibbs had noticed the change in Abby's voice, particularly the way her 'please' had trembled slightly. From his chair at Tony's bedside, Gibbs was now acutely aware that his presence had likely been forgotten, albeit for the last few, intense moments. Wondering whether he should say or do anything to take the pressure off his senior field agent, the decision was made for him. Without breaking eye contact with Abby, Tony slowly reached out with his injured hand and carefully guided her face to his own until their foreheads met. With the practiced stealth of a highly trained marine, Gibbs left the chair and the room without a sound, closing the door behind him.

One more chapter to go! Zan

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