AN: I am SO sorry I did not update last weekend. Please forgive me! I've been struggling with this chapter and what comes next, but I (hopefully) have it ironed out now.
Tony was restless, too restless to sit still in those uncomfortable chairs, so he paced at the foot of Tim's bed. Gibbs and Ziva had left the hospital room just a few minutes earlier to finish interrogating the Stanfields, leaving him to watch over McGee. A part of his mind was focused on Tim, cataloguing every breath and any movement. The other part of his mind was going in endless circles. Tim was hurt, Tim thought that he, Tony, was dead, Tony had not had his partner's back, and Tim was hurt.
One hand scrubbed down his face in agitation. Tim was hurt both physically and mentally. How could he have believed, even if only for a moment, that McGee could betray them? He never should have doubted him.
His pacing slowed and he came to a stop, studying Tim. He was so still, so pale. Tony gripped the bedrail, head bowed. He was exhausted. This whole situation had lasted far too long, with him and McGee bearing the physical consequences. At least it was over. Finally. McGee just needed to wake up and heal.
A slight groan and the movement of fists clenching sheets caught his attention.
"Tim?" He kept his voice soft, hoping not to startle him. He saw McGee frown, his eyes still closed.
"Tony?" His voice was hoarse, his exhaustion evident in the slight slur to his voice.
"Yeah, Tim. Are you okay?"
"No."
There was so much grief in that one word it left Tony speechless.
"I'm sorry, Tony. Sorry…I killed you."
Tony felt his breath leave him, the words seeming to hit him right in the chest. Yes, he had suspected this, but he had been hoping fervently that he was wrong.
"No. No Tim, I'm not dead. You didn't kill me."
Tim shook his head at the words. "Saw the…blood. There was…so much. And he told me your funeral was…was being planned."
Tony just stared at Tim, trying to control the emotions that were overwhelming him with their intensity. He thought he might be sick. His injury had been exploited, used to torture McGee. And he was angry. He was starting to wish he had interrogated one of those men…Especially the one who had done such damage to his friend.
"Tim, they lied. I'm not dead; there's no funeral planned. I was shot, you saw that, but it was a through and through. I'll be back to normal in no time."
"No, I…Tony, I saw the blood. And he told me over and over!" He was squeezing his eyes shut now, hands clenching and unclenching the bed sheets in his distress.
"Tim, open your eyes."
McGee shook his head. "No."
"McGee, open your eyes. Look at me."
He shook his head again. "No. You're dead. You won't be there!"
"Probie! Do not make me Gibbs-slap you! Open your eyes!"
McGee managed to somehow huff a laugh and still remain frowning. The banter seemed to fall from Tim's lips without conscious thought. "You would hit an injured man? I think you've reached a new low."
"This coming from the man who cried when I spilled coffee near his computer."
"I did not cry!" His eyes snapped open with his heated response, his next words dying on his lips.
Tony grinned in relief as he stared at McGee's eyes that were wide in shock, easily able to see the disbelief and hope Tim was struggling with. "Could have fooled me. There were little tears in your McSoulful eyes."
"Tony…you're not…?"
Tony leaned towards McGee, placing his hand on Tim's shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze. "No. I'm fine."
McGee moved his hand to grasp Tony's arm. A huge smile broke across his battered face as he stared at his friend, shaking his head in happy disbelief.
AN: Yay, a happy ending to a chapter. Not quite done with the story yet, though... :) Not sure when the next update will come; I have another huge test coming up. Let me know what you thought (Try not to yell at me for the late update)! Thank you, my friends!