Major Trigger Warnings! There is emotional, physical, and sexual abuse/assault, and a psychopathic stalker relationship/mindset in this one. I do not go into too much detail, but if that sort of thing offends or upsets you, please read with caution.

Morgan sucked in a gasp as water dripped off her form, jerking and grimacing when a sharp pain rolled through her right side.

"Careful. You'll pull your stitches," Levi hummed, setting the bowl back down on a small table nearby before grabbing her by the jaw and tipping her head to check the gash on her temple. "How's the head?"

"Fuck off," Morgan spat, jerking her head out of his grip and pulling at the ropes tying her to the chair she was sitting in. "Like you actually give a shit."

"But I do," he said, kneeling down and lifting the edge of her shirt as she stiffened, wanting to move away but being unable to. "I always cared about you, Morgan."

She grit her teeth as his fingers moved carefully around her side, pressing around her newest injury. "You fucking stabbed me, you asshole! Like hell you actually care!"

He rolled his eyes and stood. "You were the one being difficult. We couldn't make a scene with your team so close and if you started to fight back, then it would make things difficult. Besides, I was careful. Didn't hit anything important, unlike you."

"You jumped me in my apartment. What the fuck did you expect?" She bit out, mind racing as she tried to figure out where she might be and how she could get out of this.

The room wasn't much. A hotel maybe with the bland furniture and a small amount of space, but that didn't make sense. Why have her someplace where she could make a shit ton of noise and cause a disturbance? There had to be a trick to it. Levi was careful and only a few things could make him slip up.

Levi sighed, scratching at the stubble on his chin as he moved toward a bag on the floor nearby. "You don't understand. You weren't listening to me and then you ran."

"I wasn't listening?" Morgan argued. "You were the one not listening. I told you to back off on base. I couldn't do a single damn drill with my assigned teams because you kept beating the shit out of them!"

Levi whipped around angrily. "They deserved it!" He bellowed. "Every damn one of them! You don't even know what they said about you. What they called you behind your back."

"I don't care!" Morgan snapped, pulling forward in her chair and testing her ropes. "I never cared and if you paid attention, you'd fucking know that! People can think what they want about me. I don't give a shit! Why the hell did you?"

He shook his head, turning away again to go through his bag. "No. No, no. You don't get it. You don't understand. What they said, how they looked at you, I couldn't let them. No one gets to do that. Not to you."

"So, what?" Morgan asked, twisting her wrists and ignoring the pain as she did. "You just keep me here all tied up? What's the fuckin' end goal, Levi? Because I'm not going to just sit here and let you do whatever. You know that and you know my team is already out looking for you. You know they—"

"Shut up!" He snapped, turning around with a pistol in his hand that she gave a short look at before continuing to scowl at him. "Your team will be dealt with just like the others. You're mine, Morgan." He stepped forward, placing a hand on her neck and pressing his forehead to hers with his gun resting on her shoulder. "I don't care if I have to tell you that every hour of every day for years. You are mine and I'll make sure of it."

Gibbs stormed into the hotel and the concierge behind the desk squeaked, recognizing him immediately. "Manager, now."

The man quickly scuttled off, ducking into a back room as Gibbs pointed toward where the small cafe was.

"Tony, down that hall, kitchen."

"On it, boss."

"Ziva—"

"Cleaning staff," she said, hurrying toward another part of the hotel as Gibbs drummed his fingers on the front desk impatiently.

He'd left McGee to help Fornell finish up their case with Kamal, though they would meet back up in the bullpen after this search to work both cases as best they could. Normally, it would be reassigned but they didn't have time to read in a whole new team and Gibbs knew Morgan wouldn't want that. So, he argued to stay and they'd split and merge resources as necessary. As it was, having Fornell and his sources at the FBI help with tracking down Levi's past was proving at least a little beneficial. They had a few credit cards in his name now, as well as a cell phone number, though none had been accessed in the area they were in currently. Still, Gibbs was determined and knew he had to be close.

Levi had been tracking Morgan off-grid this whole time, so he wouldn't have bought a house or rented a room anywhere unless he paid in cash. That limited where he could stay. Then, he limited the area he might be in based on where Morgan frequented; namely her apartment, his home, work, and Highland Beach where their case was. She was picked up there and he knew they were working and it would be a few days, so logically, he had to be staying somewhere nearby. After that, it was just a matter of figuring out where specifically. Had to be quiet, out of the way because Morgan would make a lot of noise if she needed to. He had no doubt about that.

The hotel manager stepped back out again with an exasperated expression as he held a hand to his head. "Sir, please. We already gave you—"

"I need to know where that note came from," Gibbs cut him off.

"Note?" The man questioned. "I-I thought this was about the food. We had no way of knowing who sent—"

"There was a note on the back of a photo on the tray," Gibbs told him in frustration, slapping the evidence bag with the photo on the desk. "I need to know how it got there."

The manager lightly took it before shaking his head. "I-I don't know. I never saw it. Jacob?"

The front desk concierge shook his head. "No, sir. I-I didn't see a note. I was just called and told to send food to that room."

"Then, I need to see any cameras you have that may have caught him putting the note on the tray," he said and the manager shook his head.

"We don't have many cameras. Just the one for the front desk and one down each hall."

"Give me the footage for the hall our room was in," Gibbs demanded as Tony came back from the kitchen.

"No good, boss. Kitchen said they just made the food and set it out to get picked up. No note when it left."

Gibbs's phone rang then and he picked it up. "Gibbs."

It only took a second before he hung it up and pointed a firm finger at the manager.

"Footage. Now."

The manager nodded and Gibbs waved for Tony to follow him.

"Ziva got something?" He asked and Gibbs hummed.

"I hope so."

They headed up the hall and down another corridor where Ziva was speaking with a Hispanic woman for a moment before spotting Gibbs.

"I think I have something," she said, gesturing to the woman. "This is Lucia Gutierrez. She's the woman who brought the food to the door."

"Does she know how the photo got there?" Gibbs asked, showing the woman the photo and she nodded, rattling off some Spanish that Ziva translated.

"She said a gentleman gave her a $100 bill to put it on the tray, no questions."

"Description."

Ziva turned to the woman and asked, translating as she did. "Tall, white man with brown hair and stubble. Was wearing heavy boots, jeans, and a white button-up shirt."

She showed the woman a photo they had of Levi and she nodded, rattling off more Spanish.

"That's him," Ziva said, asking her further questions as Lucia shook her head. "She doesn't know who he is but said he was staying here for a few days. She can show us his room. He checked out early this morning and they haven't cleaned it yet."

Gibbs nodded. "Let's go. Tony, head back to the front desk. I want that footage."

Tony rushed off and they were brought to the room in question and started searching through it for any signs of where Levi may have gone. They weren't coming up with anything though. Whatever he'd brought with him, he'd taken with him and all that was left was a few takeout boxes in the bin from nearby places.

"Crab Shack," Ziva said, pulling out a receipt. "Paid in cash. He was definitely following us and waiting for the right moment."

"Shouldn't have let her be undercover," Gibbs muttered, checking the blankets and the desk drawer.

His phone went off again and he sighed, answering it and stepping away to listen and talk before Ziva came out of the room to join him; removing her gloves as she thanked Lucia for the help. Gibbs hung up and started heading back to the front desk as Ziva hurried after him.

"Another tip?"

"No, the vet's. Russell pulled through fine. They're keeping him overnight to monitor and he's on limited activity for a few weeks. He got lucky."

Ziva let out a sigh of relief. "Abby will be happy about that, though it's hard to be happy about anything right now… She should have told us."

"She's not used to people," Gibbs begrudgingly argued for her. "Even you were distrustful like that, Ziva. She's just a far harder nut to crack."

Ziva wrinkled her nose at the saying before they made it back to the front desk and Tony poked his head out of the back room.

"I've got something promising."

They hurried back with him, bunching together to watch the grainy footage of the hallway where Levi had met Lucia.

"This is when he handed your cleaning lady the photo," Tony explained, switching to another camera when he went out of frame. "Then, he went to his room. When he actually left the hotel, you can just make out that red pickup driving by a moment later… There."

"Okay, but how does this help us?" Ziva asked and Tony smirked, rewinding the footage.

"Because Ziva, look."

While he was standing at the front desk, Levi had glanced at a few of the brochures nearby, actually picking one up and flipping through it briefly before putting it back when the concierge stepped out to greet him. Tony grinned and waved a brochure he'd taken from the front.

"Guess what's inside?"

Gibbs snatched it from him and opened it, frowning lightly. "Historical buildings?"

"I know. Doesn't sound promising but look," Tony pointed out one of the homes. "Description says it's still used by the family but only over the summers. That's got to be something, right?"

"You better hope so, DiNozzo."

Morgan choked as she was thrown to the ground in another room, her already bruised ribs protesting the rough treatment. She struggled to catch her breath for a moment as Levi latched the door behind him and set his bag down with a frown, reaching out to pull her up by her arm.

"I told you to just cooperate."

"F-Fuck… y-you," Morgan spat as he hauled her further into the house.

"I don't want to hurt you but if you keep fighting me—"

"I-If you didn't want to hurt me, y-you wouldn't have fucking stabbed me, you dick!" She argued as he pushed her down onto a dining room chair.

She sagged, doubled over slightly still trying to catch her breath as he went around behind her to untie her wrists in order to secure her to this chair. She glanced back though, waiting until she felt the bonds loosen and jerked free. She shoved the chair backward, cracking the back of it against his already broken nose and making him cry out in pain. She turned and rushed toward the door, fingers fumbling on the latch and pulling it open only for her face to slam into it. Pain ripped through her skull as he tackled her, using his weight and momentum to close the door and pin her to the ground.

She struggled to fight against him with her ears ringing and her vision swimming, knowing that her freedom was well within reach. She reached out desperately, grasping at the edge of the door when sparks flew across her vision as something cracked across her face. She didn't even feel it at first; adrenaline pumping too quickly for the pain to register as it happened again and again.

"I said stop it!" Levi bellowed, his fists beating into her face, her stomach, her ribs.

After a moment, she stopped fighting, breathing a soft wheeze and muscles too weak to grasp at the door she'd been trying to grab. Levi hovered over her, face red and blotchy as he panted and shook. His expression went soft then and he leaned over her, quivering, blood-covered fingers touching her swelling cheek gently as he whispered.

"I didn't want to. I didn't want to hurt you but you keep fighting," he hissed, clenching a fist over her before getting up and slamming the door closed again.

He locked it once more, stepping over her battered body before reaching down and picking her up. A choked sound of pain escaped her and he murmured to her quietly, shushing her and moving her to the chair once more. He tied her up again and tipped the chair back, dragging it down a hall toward the back of the house and then placing her in a small walk-in closet upstairs. He pointed a firm finger at her, telling her to stay there and muttering to himself about medical supplies as he closed the slated doors and left her in the dark.

A watery choke escaped her, blood from a cut in her mouth slipping past her lips. She was barely conscious, her mind starting to play tricks on her. The hardwood under her feet felt like cold cement and she could hear men arguing in Dari. Old scars suddenly felt very fresh and the shorts and shirt she was wearing suddenly felt like the thick fabric from her army uniform. The dark closet was quickly beginning to feel stifling and the sharp feeling of panic was rising in her chest. The fear of that old torture coming back gave her the strength to struggle again, pulling at the ropes on her wrists and ankles, squirming and jerking at the risk of her own body because she had to get out of there. She had to run because this was only the start and she didn't want to relive all those terrible things again. She didn't want to—

The doors opened again and Levi returned, shushing her and placing a palm flat against her face as her wild, panicked eyes met his. He was oblivious to the fear and terror in them. Morgan would never fear him, he knew. She would scold him and make him frustrated and angry, but deep down, she knew he cared and wouldn't do anything to hurt her. He just had to remind her of that.

"Anything?"

"Not yet," Tony chimed over the comm, having spread out to check the historic house from a distance for any sign that Levi had been here.

Gibbs would love to just break in and check but there would be no point if Morgan wasn't there. It would be wasted time, wasted money, and wasted paperwork when he could be searching elsewhere. His phone went off then and he answered, hoping for good news.

"Gibbs."

"It's Fornell. I've got some updates on the case."

"Which case?" Gibbs asked.

"Both. Delivery boy had us thinking Hinton was Kamal but your forensic expert managed to get that tattoo done and—"

"Get to the point, Tobias."

"Tattoo was by a guy in Boston ten years ago. Interpol said Kamal was in London, so the delivery boy lied. 'Kamal' is a name for the business. Kid was the successor."

"What about Levi?" Gibbs asked, glad that was one case out of the way but having a bigger priority at the moment.

"I've got a few things, but you're not going to like them."

"I'm going to dislike it more if you don't start talking."

Fornell sighed. "You were lied to. Or she was lied to. I checked in with the prison Levi was held at, had someone speak to his cellmates. He might have gotten out on good behavior but his cellmates had a different story. Guy was nuts, Gibbs. Had a couple of screws loose. Random swings of rage, beat the shit out of guys who looked at him wrong. The guy could talk, sure, but I wouldn't have let him out for years if I had the choice."

"I want whoever did, locked up," Gibbs growled, furious that someone this nasty had gotten out so easily and taken Morgan.

"First thing I did was file something with the attorney's office. The other thing I found was his parole officer. He was killed, murdered the week you said Morgan dropped by Fort Bragg."

"Hell, is there anything else we missed!" Gibbs snapped.

"I'm doing everything I can. We're trying to keep up to date on the BOLO. They're sweeping the entirety of Highland Beach and we looked into that house you're checking out and don't have much. Older home, became part of a few history tours, used by the descendants over the summers but otherwise left empty and maintained by a few gardeners as needed. You really think she's there?"

"It's the only lead we've got," Gibbs replied, hearing chatter start up on his comm again. "Got to go. I'll call you if we have news."

"You hear me, Gibbs?"

"What is it, Ziva?"

"I found the truck."

Gibbs perked up, getting out of the car he had been waiting in and bringing up a set of binoculars to search the front windows of the home. "Where?"

"There's a shed just north of the home. I assumed it was the neighbor's property but checked a window anyway. There's a red pickup inside."

"Plate?"

"Give me a second. I'm trying to stay out of view of the windows."

Gibbs waited impatiently, steadily moving closer to the home as he spotted Tony in the distance and waved him over. Ziva chimed in a minute later with the plate number and Gibbs felt his blood start to rush.

"That's it."

"Gibbs, there's a lot of blood in the back," Ziva warned.

He clenched his jaw tight, knowing what that may mean for Morgan but held onto hope for now. "Disable the truck. We don't want him trying to take it. Then, head for the back door. We'll take the front. Don't be seen. We haven't seen movement in the windows yet but that doesn't me he's not watching."

"Yes, boss."

Tony came up with him and they crouched low, moving up the front deck of the home and settling on either side of the front door. Tony lifted a hand and gestured down at the base of the door and again, Gibbs's jaw clenched. There was more blood spotting on the lower corner, smeared as though someone's hand had been pulled off it.

"Ziva, we need eyes inside."

"On it," she replied, going quiet for a moment. "I'm in. Don't hear anything on the bottom flo—"

There was a clatter and Gibbs felt worry creep up his throat, ready to burst in the front door but Ziva's voice came back over the comms.

"That was from upstairs! Gibbs, they're on the second floor!"

Gibbs stood and lifted a heavy boot, slamming it into the door and breaking past the latch as he and Tony hurried in. They met up with Ziva, doing a very quick visual sweep of the bottom floor before Gibbs gestured to the stairs.

Nearly there, Morgan. Just stay safe.

She had gotten lucky. Morgan had gotten extremely lucky. The chair she was in had straight legs. There was no fancy design or curling of the wooden feet. It was simple and as such, she'd managed to carefully push her chair back, tipping it just enough to slide her ankle ropes off. It wasn't much but it was a chance and she knew she was running out of those. Her entire body hurt; aching and throbbing from bruises and overall pain. She felt cold and warm at the same time and could feel the blood soaking the bandages on her side and thigh. Levi might have done some quick first-aid treatment but she'd scored better than him in that area of training. He could never get the stitches quite right.

That was how she was coping right now. To think past the pain and the fear that continued to try and creep up with those dark memories of Afghanistan. She'd panicked before—the dark of the closet mixing with her situation and sending her right back to that moment for a while. Then, she'd managed to calm herself down. She thought of Gibbs and the team, of Russell, and hoped he was okay. She thought of McNeil talking her through the steps of preventing a full-blown panic attack and thought of how simple things had been back in basic training.

Then, she tried to think of Levi. Of any little thing she might have done better than him, might have noticed about him that could help her get out of this mess. Things might have changed after a few years but not everything had. His stitches were still shit. His frustration blowing out of proportion was still there. His complete adoration of her was out of control but she could use that. She had to use that.

She heard his footsteps on the stairs and stiffened, feeling her heart jump into her throat before she swallowed it back down. She relaxed her body and lowered her head toward her chest, calming her breathing and trying to look unconscious or as though she'd given up. He'll be concerned. He'll come and check. Levi opened the closet and came over, reaching out and pressing a couple of fingers to her throat to check her pulse before letting out a soft sigh. He had his bag again and set it down on the floor, searching through it for a minute and Morgan took her chance.

She stood up and swung in a circle, using the chair she still had her hands tied to in order to hit him. He blocked it with his arm but one of the legs still snapped and it had made him angry, as she'd planned. He rushed at her as he had before, grabbing the chair by one of its remaining legs and pulling her with it. She jumped though, twisting and grimacing as she landed on the chair when he released it. It would give her more bruises but it broke the bars on the back of the chair enough for her hands to be free.

Levi reached down and grabbed her, pulling her up, and threw her into the bedroom behind him. She hit a desk hard with her hip, turning to try and crack the lamp she had over his head. It hit his shoulder though and he backhanded her across the face, making her tumble backward into the edge of the bed as office supplies scattered over the covers and floor. He lunged at her, grabbing her around the waist tight; fingers digging into her injured side and making her cry out in pain with her back to his chest.

"Stop struggling," he spat in her ear, pulling her back against him and using his weight to start pressing her down toward the bed. "I told you… I don't want to do this," he said, anger fading and something else taking its place.

Morgan heard the change instantly and began to struggle further, doing what she could to ignore the blinding pain of his fingers practically prying her side open once more. He groaned as she fought to push away from him, failing as he clung tighter to her and pushed her down into the bedcovers. His teeth suddenly bit down into her neck and he rolled his body over her as his free hand reached up and pulled the neckline of her shirt away to tear it off her. Trying to keep her mind clear of the blind panic threatening to overwhelm her, Morgan desperately searched for something to stop him. Anything she could get a hold of. A shine of metal caught her gaze and hope filled her in that one agonizingly painful moment.

This couldn't happen again. Not again.

Levi's fingers hooked onto the edge of her shorts, shifting his body upward as he rolled her over to face him with one quick tug. The sudden change of orientation and the pull of his fingers in her wound sent a white flash of pain across her gaze for a moment but she could feel it in the palm of her hand.

Not again, not again, not again!

Levi grasped her throat, unaware of the dangers as he forced his mouth onto hers and felt his breath leave him in one fell swoop. He pulled back slowly, mind not quite understanding what had happened as Morgan stared up at him; out of breath and a splash of red stretching over her pale features. He opened his mouth as the bedroom door slammed open, but only blood pooled out as his body began to go slack.

Morgan jerked back, finally able to shift somewhat out from under him as he collapsed; a long, metal letter-opener in her bloody right hand. Her ears were ringing as she stared at Levi's lifeless brown eyes, feeling hands grasp her other arm and tug her away from him as another lightly plucked the letter opener from her hand. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. All she could hear was that mantra running through her head.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

Then, two hands lightly pressed to her face, slowly and carefully leading her eyes up to the worried and familiar blue eyes of Gibbs. He was speaking to her, telling her something she was sure was important, but her own lips were failing her as her vision fogged with tears. She was reaching for him before she could even comprehend it and he was quick to pull her into his arms and cling to her in relief.

They'd found her.

"How is she?" Jenny asked, standing outside of the hospital room with Gibbs watching Morgan softly breathe into a breathing mask as a doctor checked her over.

"Medical-induced coma," he explained simply, voice quiet and cold. "The injuries were a lot and she was struggling to stay present. Her PTSD was acting up."

Jenny nodded, eyes soft as she looked through the window as well. "I've talked to the attorney's office. They said it was self-defense and given the circumstances involved in his wrongful release, there won't even be a trial she needs to attend. Just paperwork, which she can do in time." She glanced over at Gibbs. "How are you doing?"

Gibbs was quiet and she sighed.

"McNeil said she'd like to start dropping by while Morgan's in the hospital. Knowing as much as she does about her past means she can help her better than we can."

He nodded. "Feels like I don't know a thing about her," he muttered, turning to Jenny. "She just kept saying 'Not again.' Didn't even know she was saying it… Maybe it wasn't him, maybe it was but…"

Jenny shifted uneasily, knowing some of what was in the blotted-out portions of Morgan's files. "There… isn't much I can tell you. Not out of obligation but… a lot happened in Afghanistan, Jethro. The files won't tell me everything. I can only guess…"

His jaw clenched, knowing what she was alluding to and feeling sick. He never knew. How could he? Morgan would never mention something like that and she didn't show the typical signs of someone who'd been sexually assaulted; not that everyone did but still. If it weren't for this, he might have never found out and a part of him wished he hadn't.

Jenny gave his arm a small squeeze. "Get some rest. The doctors will keep us updated. I'll give your team some time off so they can visit as well."

He didn't respond and she stepped away, leaving for the moment knowing he wouldn't listen to her concerns. He stood outside for a while, waiting for the doctors to leave and stepping inside once they had; leaving a single nurse behind to finish up. The woman glanced at him but said nothing as he stepped up to the bed and lightly grasped Morgan's hand.

"She'll be alright," the nurse said after a moment, drawing his exhausted eyes to hers. "Lots of people come in like this. It's a shame but… it happens." The nurse nodded to Morgan. "She didn't even flinch when the doctor walked in or touched her. Not a damn thing and that takes effort. Might not seem like it but it does."

Gibbs nodded, looking down at her hand in his grip. "She's a strong woman."

The nurse cracked a smile. "Which is why she'll be okay. May take time but at least she has some support with her."

She finished adjusting the IV and left, leaving him alone with Morgan as he ran his thumb back and forth over her hand. He released her briefly, pulling over a chair and going through the list of injuries the doctor had told him about. Levi had done a number on her and the fact that she was able to move was something that dumbfounded them.

Multiple lacerations, the stab wound to her side and leg, broken ribs, bruises upon bruises upon bruises, fractured knuckles, sprained wrist and shoulder, a black eye, a concussion, and a fractured jaw. The doctors had done what they could but the long-term injuries would take time and rest. Rest he knew she wouldn't like. I want her at my place, he noted, reaching out and carefully brushing aside a strand of hair near her temple. It might be too soon but I need to know she's safe. At least for a while.

He let out a soft sigh and settled in for the night. He wouldn't be leaving her side until she was allowed to wake up and even then, he wanted to stay. For once, work could wait.

A soft knock came from the doorway and Gibbs glanced over at Ducky with tired eyes. The older man took off his hat and offered him a grimace of a smile.

"I was told you refuse to leave the hospital," he hummed, stepping up to Morgan's bedside and giving the sleeping woman a sad, sympathetic look. "I understand why but you should at least get yourself cleaned up, Jethro. It would be a shame if she woke up and found you've moved into her hospital room."

Gibbs scoffed, lightly moving the blanket off his lap and getting up from the armchair he'd slept in the last few days. "I'm not leaving, Duck. It's not like there's a case."

"Perhaps, but you should, at the very least, shower and get some food in you. I'm willing to stand guard while you're away, if it helps."

Gibbs watched him for a moment before looking back at Morgan. "They're waking her up today."

Ducky hummed, taking off his hat and setting it aside as he sat beside Morgan's bed. "Yes. Five days is more than enough for her, I think." He glanced at Gibbs who was lightly frowning. "You're concerned how she'll react, I suspect."

"She had a panic attack on the way here," Gibbs informed him.

"She'd been assaulted and tormented for over twenty-four hours. Suddenly being removed from the situation and taken to a hospital would exacerbate whatever emotions she was feeling at the time. A panic attack is completely normal, Jethro."

He hummed, knowing that but still feeling uneasy. "I don't know what will change. What that bastard did…"

"He'll have left some scars," Ducky agreed. "And not just the physical ones. Dr. McNeil is coming by, I heard. That will help but you can't expect her to be okay right away. These things take time."

"But how much time?" Gibbs pressed, knowing that Ducky wouldn't have an answer to that. "I don't know the first thing about… How am I supposed to navigate this? Will she even be okay with me in the room?"

Ducky shook his head. "I don't know. Everyone reacts to trauma differently. Some run away from it, some face it despite their fears, and others don't know what to do or think or feel. She might shut down completely. Either way, she will need someone to stand by her side. Even if she rejects them, she needs support. Someone will need to help pull her through this and you, Jethro, are in the prime position to do that. But you need to take care of yourself first."

Ducky waved at the door, leaning back in his seat and pulling out a book.

"I promise, I will be right here when you return."

Gibbs took a long breath and let it out, begrudgingly nodding and stepping past him to leave. "Thanks, Duck."

"Any time, Jethro."

The doctor finished with Morgan's IV and glanced over at where Gibbs, Ducky, and Dr. McNeil were waiting. "It may take a while for her to fully come to. Call a nurse if you need anything."

They nodded once he left, McNeil let out a soft sigh, settling in the chair nearby.

"I know you're worried but you should have a bit more faith in her, Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs shot the woman a small glare. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're too similar for your own good," she muttered, sighing. "Which is why you should know that…" She gave him a small smile. "She will be fine."

He huffed but perked up when Morgan shifted with a small groan. Yet, he hesitated on approaching her bed, still holding small reservations and McNeil rolled her eyes.

"You've been waiting for nearly a week for her to wake up and you're holding back?"

He reached up and rubbed at his face in exasperation. He understood now why Morgan always looked so frustrated after leaving one of her therapy sessions.

Morgan opened her eyes, blearily looking up at the ceiling above her and not fully aware of where she was or what had happened.

"R-Rus," she croaked, throat sore and grasping at her bedsheets only to notice the lack of the needy black dog. "Rus? R-Russell?"

She started to panic, shifting to push herself up as the group before her bed hastily moved to try and stop her.

"Ah, wait!"

"Morgan, you shouldn't be getting up yet!"

"Russell. Where's Russell?" She demanded, breathing hard and ignoring Ducky and McNeil trying to stop her fully sitting up unsuccessfully.

Gibbs finally stepped close, seeing the flicker of pain on her face and the way she sagged a little to one side. He reached out and lightly took her arm, half expecting her to flinch away but she held still and turned to him.

"G-Gibbs."

"You should lay back down," he murmured.

"But Russell—"

"He's okay," he reassured. "He's staying with Abby."

"Abby…?"

He nodded and Morgan let out a breath of relief, sagging immediately and making him hastily grab her to help her lay back onto the semi-raised bed.

"T-Thank god. F-Fuckin' hell, thank god he's okay," Morgan choked out, pressing a hand to her face with a shuddering breath.

Ducky let out a small chuckle, making her flinch this time because she'd not realized there were other people there. "One would assume you'd be more concerned about your condition."

She shot him a mildly annoyed look, sweat collecting on her brow already from the pain of moving as quickly as she had. "F-Fuck my condition."

"Well, your mouth certainly hasn't changed," McNeil hummed.

"Hurts like hell though," Morgan mumbled, reaching up to rub at her jaw but Gibbs took her hand before abruptly letting go.

"You can't," he warned her, earning a small frown. "You fractured it."

Morgan pursed her lips but didn't rub at her jaw like she wanted as Ducky checked her chart.

"Ah, a small fracture though. You're lucky it wasn't worse, Morgan, though as it is, you will be on a soft food diet for some time."

Her frown deepened for a second before the pain returned and she grimaced. Her gaze drifted to the morphine drip, a dark temptation taking hold of her for a brief moment before McNeil cleared her throat. She'd seen the look and knew that there were more vices that Morgan had to deal with than those she'd shared with others.

"Could I have a moment with Morgan alone for a minute?" She asked, moving up to the edge of the bed and giving Ducky a pointed look.

He understood and patted Gibbs's shoulder. "Come, Jethro. Let us see if the hospital has any good coffee."

Gibbs was reluctant but knew that the two needed a discussion and gave them one last look before stepping out. However, there was a bitter taste in his mouth knowing that Morgan was still hiding so much from him that he just wasn't allowed to hear.