I can clearly remember something Tony once told me, a long time ago, right after Gibbs offered me a job and took me on as part of his NCIS team, and it's stuck with me ever since that day, when my unprepared body and mind quailed at the sight of my very first murder victim. I guess everyone remembers their 'firsts': first kiss, first love, first job, first sex, first murder victim. Well, okay...maybe not *everyone* has a first murder victim to remember but it's easy to understand how something like that would tend to stick as a clear memory.
The young, male Naval officer had still been in the vehicle when we'd arrived on the scene, simply sitting behind the steering wheel as he had been when driving, only his severed head was draped backward over the front seat and hanging on to the rest of the body by a thin strand of tendon or muscle or something I couldn't and, quite frankly, didn't want to identify. The whole interior was awash in blood and gore and the coppery smell was so intense I could actually taste it on my tongue. After getting more of a look than I really wanted and inhaling too much of that strong, biting odor, I had hasitly averted my eyes and found my feet just couldn't propel me away from the crime scene fast enough. In reality, I did manage to move on rubbery legs a short distance away before falling to my knees on a patch of wet grass and vomiting up my lunch, then my breakfast, and then, I swear, I was heaving so hard a bit of my supper from the night before had to have made an appearance in the mess. It hadn't been a pretty sight and I had never felt more like the green rookie I was until that very moment.
Tony had sidled right up beside my kneeling, gagging form, placed his lanky body between me and victim, probably to shield me from others, and had sighed dramatically, hands on hips and squinting down at me like some magnanimous lord overseeing one of his lowly serfs. I swear that's what he looked like but I would never admit it to him, not ever.
"Probie," he'd spoken in that infuriating, aggravating, obnoxious tone he sometimes takes with me, "if there's one thing I've learned in this job, it's that you've just got to learn to expect the unexpected."
What an understatement *that* had been and, as I sit here now in the backseat of a rented car somewhere in Southern Idaho, with Ducky at my side and Gibbs behind the wheel, driving like he was still attacking the streets of DC, I would have to agree wholeheartedly with Tony's unwanted wisdom. This is something I never would have expected to be doing in a million years. And to make it even more strange, FBI Agent Tobias Fornell is occupying the passenger seat beside Gibbs, his head lolling against the side window and all but oblivious to Gibbs' manic maneuvering and Ducky's endless droning about human growth hormones and pituitary glands and something called Somatotropin. I don't understand it all, not sure I even *want* to understand it but, for some reason, Gibbs wants to hear all about the current case studies and medical trials and that makes me realize he thinks it's all got something to do with what he supposes is happening to Tony.
Tony.
God, I hope he's all right. It's been three and a half weeks since we were told he was dead, three and a half weeks of expecting to hear him call me 'Probie' every time I made some dumb mistake, and three and a half weeks of trying not to get all choked up each time my eyes happened to drift toward his empty desk. I thought it had been bad when Caitlin Todd died but this...this is much worse. Don't get me wrong, I liked Cait a lot: she was kind and tolerant and never went out of her way to belittle me...like Tony. But I've known Tony longer now, gotten to recognize the real person behind all that bluff and ego, and have come to think of him as not only a valued colleague but as a friend, too. A friend I would like to see back at work with us, doing and saying all that annoying stuff like he use to before all this happened.
And I know I'm not the only one who misses him. Abby pretty much said she'd kick *all* our asses if we came back without Tony and, God help me, I think she'd actually attempt it...even with Gibbs. He'd just looked at her like some indulgent parent when she'd made her announcement, pulled gently on one of her pigtails, and dropped a quick kiss on the tip of her nose before turning to glare at me, growling low in his throat and all but daring me to say one word about his brief display of affection. As if. I know when to keep my mouth shut. Plus, I think it was Gibbs' non-verbal way of telling her we would all do our best to make it happen but, really, we weren't even sure what we were getting into or if Tony was, indeed, still alive. This could all be nothing more than wishful hoping on our part.
Anyway, Abby had wanted to make the trip with us but we'd all known she would be of more value if she remained in the office plus, and I guess most importantly, Gibbs knew she'd be able to feed us all the necessary information we'd be needing *and* keep an eye on Director Shepard's activities. She wasn't happy but, as we all know, some of Abby's best work is done in her lab.
Speaking of Director Shepard...I don't know what was said but, when Gibbs finally came out of MTAC, after letting us know he was going to inform her of our intentions, he'd been red in the face and Shepard'd been hot on his heels, following him all the way down the staircase, past other startled agents, and over to his desk. She was kind of flushed in the face, too, her hair all spiky and wild and I could only stare at her in open-mouth amazement, watching as she tried to intimidate Gibbs into doing what she wanted. Intimidate. Gibbs. Yeah, like *that* would ever happen. Her petite body was almost thrumming with anger and, if I'd been able to see her face, I would have bet there'd been sparks shooting out of her eyes. I'd almost called Abby to come watch the fireworks but, all of a sudden, Shepard had turned away from Gibbs and was directing her tirade toward Ziva and me, all that contained fury just ready to explode and frag us all. I know my eyes must have gotten as big as bowling balls and I knew I was having a hard time swallowing but, when I chanced a glance back to Gibbs, just to see how he was taking all this, he'd actually been grinning at us behind her back. *Grinning*. I couldn't believe it. My amazement must have shown on my face because Shepard had immediately whirled back and, as only Gibbs can manage, was met with nothing more than his cool, blue eyes and an unemotional, blank expression. I think that only angered her more.
"If you or any member of your team makes one move to follow through with those ridiculous plans of yours, Agent Gibbs, I will have all of your jobs in an instant," she'd hissed down at him as he'd sat behind his desk, folding her arms across her chest and tipping her chin slightly upwards. She'd actually dared him to defy her. Oh, boy...
I'd cast a quick look over to where Ziva was sitting at her desk and saw her surprised expression, too, but I'd also seen something dark and dangerous pass behind her eyes. I'll be the first to admit, Ziva can scare me shitless sometimes. She just makes me feel so...unsafe...like she wouldn't think twice about slitting my throat or putting a bullet through my head or cutting the brake lines in my car. She's my teammate now but I still haven't learned to trust her yet. There's just something about her that creeps me out. Gibbs seems to have accepted her, for whatever reason, and she's proven herself repeatedly in the field, so maybe I just need to make more of an effort to get to know her better. Maybe.
Anyway, Director Shepard must have caught Ziva's fleeting expression, too, because she'd suddenly stepped closer to Ziva's desk and began tearing into her. I think Tony would have just sat back in his chair and enjoyed the show but I sure didn't. Tony always use to talk about catfights and hair-pulling and other so-called 'feminine' ways of fighting but, honestly, I just knew if these two ever went at it, head to head, there'd be a fair amount of blood shed. Oh, yeah.
I think Gibbs knew it, too, because he'd been up and around his desk quicker than I'd remember seeing him move in a very long time, positioning himself between the Director and Ziva, speaking quietly and calmly into Shepard's face. Like the big lump that I am, I just sat there and watched it all.
"I'm not involving any of my agents in this, Jen," Gibbs had spoken, hands jamming into his pockets in what I really think was a move to keep them from reaching out to throttle her. "If you won't give me the resources I need to get the job done properly, I'll do it my own way."
*That* had brought me to my feet. "Boss..."
"Sit down and shut up, McGee!" Gibbs had all but yelled at me and, of course, I immediately did as he ordered. It didn't mean I liked it but I pretty much do everything he tells me to do. Pretty much.
Meantime, Ducky had come up from the morgue, seen what was going on, listened for a moment, and had immediately retreated back the way he'd come. I don't think Director Shepard saw him, not from the angle she'd been standing, but I know Gibbs did and the sight of our medical examiner must have bolstered his resolve.
"I'm going to Idaho to look for DiNozzo, Director Shepard. I don't know why you're fighting me so hard on this or why you won't even look at all the evidence we've gathered but," he'd tilted his head and looked at her intently, "what I really can't figure out is why you're so determined to abandon one of your own agents to an existence we can't even begin to imagine."
"Because Agent DiNozzo is gone!" She'd gritted, shaking her head in frustration. "The ashes were turned over to his family weeks ago."
"Ashes that probably belonged to a missing forty-nine year old ovarian cancer victim!"
Gibbs could do frustration real good, too, and he'd been *really* frustrated then. I'd caught Ziva's eyes, where she'd risen to stand by her desk when Shepard had approached, and could see her face growing pale and hard with barely contained anger. She was use to taking care of her own problems, we all knew it, but Gibbs had effectively deflected Shepard's ire away from her and back onto himself. I'd shaken my head at Ziva, trying to make her understand, and hoped she'd just remain quiet and let our boss do his thing. She did but I could tell she didn't like it.
Gibbs and Shepard had continued to exchange shots, getting absolutely nowhere, and attracting a lot more attention from the other agents in the immediate area. I had glanced around and seen four or five heads peering over dividers or around corners and knew this would be the main topic of converstion around the water-cooler for quite awhile to come. Forget about Survivor or American Idol...*this* was entertainment. It wasn't everyday you saw a Director of NCIS going a round or two with one of the agency's top investigators.
They might have gone on for some time if Ducky hadn't reappeared near the edge of my desk, pausing only briefly to take a deep breath before stepping directly and bravely imto the middle of the argument. I couldn't help it and, no matter what Gibbs had ordered, I'd just had to stand up, especially if Ducky was going to be involved.
"Excuse me," he'd tried to get their attention with his calm, gentle tone but had swiftly seen that approach wasn't going to work.
Sighing dramatically, Ducky had boldly stepped between them, placing his slighter body in the small space dividing them, and had raised both his hands, palms out and fingers spread, successfully breaking their line of sight. Both Gibbs and Shepard had taken a step back, closed their mouths, and looked down at the intruder.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt like this, Director Shepard," he'd actually managed to look contrite as he'd focused on her face, completely ignoring the fact he'd just broken up a very heated argument, "but I've recently recieved some unsetling news concerning my dear mother. I'm afraid I'm going to need a leave of absence beginning immediately."
I didn't listen to everything he'd said but whatever tale he'd told must have been a good one because Director Shepard had immediately offered her concern and blessing and had sent Ducky on his merry way with an assurance that his job would be waiting for him when he returned. I heard him mumble something in graditude and, as he'd neared my desk, his serious expression had broken into an impish grin and, unbelievably, he'd winked right at me before scurrying past. I followed his retreat with my gaze and knew he'd be heading down to speak to Abby, ready to explain the situation and how he'd successfully managed to slip under the Director's radar.
By the time I returned my attention back to Gibbs and Shepard, the Director had already been turning away and heading back upstairs, leaving us all to stare silently at her straight back. If Tony had been there, he'd probably been watching her ass but I was content just to look at her stiff spine, staying quiet, waiting until Gibbs broke our little tableau by barking at me.
"McGee!"
"Yes, Boss?"
"Get on the phone and make reservations for the evening flight to Twin Falls. I want to be in Idaho and ready to start the search as soon as possible."
"For how many, Boss?" I'd asked carefully, not realizing I was holding my breath as I waited for his response...until a burn started in my chest.
He'd looked at me, then at Ziva, and sat back down in his chair, running a hand through his short hair. I'd been able to tell he was doing some fairly serious internal debating, calmost saw the gears turning as he considered different scenarios and possibilities, and knew he'd been silently running through our individual strengths and weaknesses. I'd chanced a quick glance toward Ziva and, I swear, I think she'd been holding her breath, too.
"One for me, one for Fornell..."
"Fornell?" Ziva had questioned, her tone rife with disbelief, "Gibbs, Fornell is..."
The look Gibbs had shot her way had her silent in a second. He'd held her gaze for a few more moments before returning his look to me. I know he'd probably seen the hopeful look in my eyes, and he'd known how I felt about Tony, so I'd just put as much of my desire to go with him into my _expression and just waited.
"One for Ducky," he'd never broken eye contact with me but I could almost sense what was coming and had started grinning even before the words were all the way out of his mouth, "and one for you."
"I'm on it, Boss," I'd breathed in a relieved rush and had immediately reached for my keypad, determined to get us on the flight he wanted, my mind already thinking about what I'd be needing to throw into my duffle for the trip.
I'd been so wrapped up in my quest, I didn't realize right away that Gibbs had risen from his seat and was, once again, back by Ziva's desk, leaning on the hard, flat surface and head bent close to hers. When I did glance up and saw his position in the office, I'd gotten instantly concerned. I couldn't see his face but, from Ziva's serious expression, it looked like he was doing a lot of fast talking. Her face had gone through a wide range of emotions but it was the very last one that chilled me to the bones. It was the look she'd sometimes get when we'd had a suspect say or do something she felt deserved prompt and deadly retribution, that same look that scared me shitless. She'd had it then, while Gibbs was speaking so earnestly to her, only this time she added this creepy, sinister, little smile. I didn't know what they'd discussed until much later and, then, I'd found I really didn't want to know.
Twelve hours later, the four of us are in the car heading north on Highway 75, from Twin Falls toward Ketchum, and I'm watching the snow fall through the side window, wishing I'd packed my long johns and thermal socks. It's got to be somewhere in the mid-twenties but, with the wind chill as it is today, I bet it feels closer to zero. I can't help thinking about Tony and hoping, wherever he is at the moment, he's someplace warm and dry and out of this nasty weather but, for whatever reason, I get this awful ache in my chest and know that's probably not the case. I don't know what to expect when we find him, *if* we find him, but I just have this feeling he'll...
"Stop it, McGee."
Gibbs' voice startles me out of my morose thoughts and I quickly look up to see his eyes reflected toward me in the rearview mirror. I'm confused and I guess it shows because he lets out this big sigh and shifts a little in his seat.
"Stop what, Boss?" I ask tentatively, sensing Ducky's gaze on me now.
"Stop thinking so hard about...things," he answers hesitantly and I know I've been busted.
Ducky reaches over and gently pats my hand, the gesture almost making me tear up. I know I'm not the best at hiding my emotions but I didn't realize they showed on my face so easily. I squirm a bit and offer my own sigh.
"I'm sorry, Boss."
"Don't be," he sounds gruff and I can see his grip tighten on the steering wheel.
We're all on edge, have been since the trip plans had solidified and we'd found ourselves meeting up with Agent Fornell at Ronald Reagan National Airport. I should have slept on the flight, like Gibbs had suggested, but all I could do was close my eyes and pretend, especially when he and Fornell began discussing the plan to get in to speak with reclusive billionaire Franklin Wilson-Halley. I knew they thought he was the key to this mess...he and Doctor Emilio Martinez...but I knew we were going in under false pretenses and without the backing of our respective agencies. It was all kind of scary and exciting at the same time. But what concerned me more than anything was Wilson-Halley's power. I'd learned early on in my career that people with money could hide secrets much better than those without and those who were wealthy...well, they can hide just about anything they want. Unfortunately, Wilson-Halley was one of the riches men in the United Staes, if not the world. It only made me wonder what kind of secrets he'd want to hide and to what means he would go to keep them secret.
"How soon is our turn off, McGee?" Gibbs asked and I quickly looked at the directions I'd plotted with Abby's assistance.
"Just a couple more miles until we hit Highway 26. Then it'll be approximately fifty more before the last stretch that'll take us on in to Lost River."
Gibbs just nodded but didn't look at me in the mirror. He *did* reach over and punch Fornell pretty soundly in the arm, jerking the other man awake, and offereing an _expression that held absolutely no apology at all. Fornell made some sniffing or snorting sounds, stretched as much as he could in the confines of the front seat, and began looking blearily around.
"Where the hell are we?"
"Idaho," Gibbs responded dryly.
I almost laughed. I could see Fornell turn away from the window and track slowly back toward Gibbs, his posture growing tense.
"You know what, Gibbs? Fuck you."
Well.
Gibbs' grip tightened on the wheel again and I just kind of pushed further back in my seat, hoping to stay well out of the way when the shit hit the fan. These guys were notorious for tearing into each other but I'd actually thought they'd reached some uneasy truce because of our search for Tony. Guess I was wrong. Sure wouldn't be the first time nor the last.
"No," Gibbs said calmly, deceptively, "fuck you."
"Gentlemen," Ducky was clearing his throat, trying to diffuse the situation in his proper, refined manner...and then proceeded to drive us all crazy with his explanation on the origins of the word 'fuck' and how it's usage had changed throughout the years. All I could do was groan, turn back to look out my window at the falling snow, and wish I'd witnessed the shit hitting the fan instead. When Ducky got wound up, no one but Gibbs seemed able to turn him off and, right now, it didn't appear he was inclined to throw the switch.
We finally arrived in the tiny town of Lost River and, because there were no motels, got situated at the only bed and breakfast present. Only two of the four rooms were available for us and the owner was quick to point out we were lucky to have those, since her prior guests had left early to do some skiiing in another part of the state. I didn't care if I had to share a bed and, as long as I had a place to lay my head when I got tired, I could stand just about anything. Ducky and I took a room directly across the hallway from Gibbs and Fornell but we all knew we'd be using their room as a base for operations. In fact, as soon as we'd dumped our gear in the room, we were all huddled around a small table near a bay window in their room, looking over some surveillance photos Fornell had brought and discussing our plan.
Gibbs and Fornell were going to call the estate, explain who they were, and indicate they only wanted to speak to Mr. Wilson-Halley as soon as possible. They knew he was still on the property, or had been last night, as Fornell had used his resources and connections in Ketchum to find out the billionaire's schedule. There was no guarantee they'd be given an appointment, or whatever wealthy people grant, but they thought it best to go in and get a feel for who they were dealing with. It was worth a try and, frankly, we didn't have anything to lose.
Ducky was going to scout out the local medical facilities, if there were any, secure some rudimentary first aid gear, and set up a triage area in our room, just in case we found Tony and he needed some 'private' care. I couldn't help the shudder that ran through me as I thought of that possibility. The closest thing this town had was probably a health clinic and I didn't want to think what I might have to see if he was badly hurt. Once again, Tony's words sprung into my mind.
'Expect the unexpected.'
Good advice...if you could manage doing it. Right now, I was just trying to do everything Gibbs told me to do without messing up.
My job was to stay in the room and be the hub for today's activities. If Gibbs and Fornell got in to see Wilson-Halley, we'd go from there. I immediately set up my laptop, connected the camera, and contacted Abby. We were able to speak only briefly before Gibbs began firing questions her way about schematics for the billionaire's compound and intel about security and guards and I took it all in, wondering what we were really getting ourselves into. From the description Abby was giving, this guy was dead serious about his privacy.
When Ducky indicated he was ready to begin his search for supplies, I offered to go, but Gibbs negated the idea and told me he wanted me to stay put. I was needed here and no where else. I nodded my understanding and sat back at the computer, watching them all prepare to leave. I wanted nothing more than to be at Gibbs' side, wanted to hear what Wilson-Halley had to say, wanted to see what kind of man we were up against. Instead, I sat with my fingers barely skimming the keyboard, eyes focused on nothing, and my thoughts flying back to Tony. Sometimes doing absolutely nothing was the hardest thing in the world to do.
Several hours later, Ducky returned, his hat and coat covered with a thick dusting of snow and his hands clutching several plastic bags full of all kinds of simple, basic medical supplies. I left the laptop to help him unpack and sort through the various items but left him to arrange them on the small, round table in our room to his satisfaction. There was a method to all his fussing but I just couldn't see it.
Another hour and a half passed before Gibbs called to let us know they were on their way back and had been successful in gaining entrance to Mr. Wilson-Halley's estate. He didn't sound very enthusiastic but, with Gibbs, who could really tell?
When they arrived back, we all gathered around in the warm room and Ducky and I got the shock of our lives. I was, at first, unaware of the implications but, when I finally did comprehend the allegation, I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
"He knew we were coming," Gibbs said bitterly, his face white and strained with barely-controlled fury, as he looked hard at our medical examiner. "Someone told him we were coming out here to look for DiNozzo and I can think of only one other person who knew I suspected Wilson-Halley had any connections to Emilio Martinez."
"Director Shepard."
Just hearing Ducky speak the name confused me. That couldn't be right. Why in the world would Director Shepard pass on information like that to a man they suspected played a part in Tony's disappearance? What could she possibly hope to gain by contributing to a cover-up like this? There just had to be a more logical explanation.
Just as I got ready to voice my concerns, the shrill beep of a cell phone made us all pause, and we watched as the small device was answered. "Gibbs."
There was a strange look on Gibbs' face when he listened, like he was searching for something he couldn't quite get a handle on, and then it was instantly gone and he was snapping the phone closed. He shook his head, lips compressed into a hard, grim line, and took a moment to run a slightly shaking hand through his hair. He looked back at us and shrugged.
"Just a wrong number, I guess," he admitted tiredly, "but, for a moment there, I kind of thought..."
He let the words trail off and we all wondered what was going through his mind. We didn't get the opportunity to ask before it was trilling for attention again.
"Gibbs," his voice wasn't as sharp or cold this time and I saw him go perfectly still, bringing his free hand up to cover his open ear in an attempt to hear the caller a bit more clearly. Then, the look on his face changed and his eyes immediately sought out Ducky's. When he spoke again, his voice was full of expectant disbelief. "Tony?"
I was out of my seat and stepping closer, watching the play of emotions on Gibbs' face. I don't think I've ever seen his face so alive with so many expressions before but, seeing the open relief in his blue eyes, I knew it was true. He *was* talking to Tony.
"Where are you? Yes...yes. Wait, Tony...I can hardly hear you. Are you all right? Are you hurt? Just...just tell me where you are." He paced toward the bay window but wasn't watching the snow fall. "Well, can you see anything...like a landmark or a building or..." He was quiet for a very long time and I watched his head slowly begin to angle downward and his broad shoulders sag under some unseen weight. His voice got soft and, unbelievably, tender. "Tony...don't. Please, don't cry. I'm here now and I'm coming for you. Just...just don't hang up, okay? Just stay on the line."
He turned his bleak face to us but we were already moving. I reconnected with Abby quickly and, after she squealed in delight at my news, we immediately started working to locate the origin of Tony's call, using Gibbs' cell as the link. Fornell was pulling his wet coat back on, as was Ducky, and I realized I was going to be left behind again as they went out in the weather to track Tony down. I bristled for only a moment but knew this is where I was needed the most. I'd have the chance to see Tony when they brought him back.
When they left, I was alone but Abby's digital presence was so dynamic I almost felt she was right in the room with me. I immediately used my cell to call Ducky so we were able to coordinate their movements, directing them south toward the Snake River Plains and then on into Craters of the Moon National Preserve. Occasionally, I'd hear Fornell swear or a calming bit of reassurance from Ducky but there was a continual, steady stream of quiet words coming from Gibbs that almost sounded foreign in their affection and tenderness. Not quite the way I was use to hearing him talk, that's for sure. I found myself glancing Abby's way several times to see if she was reading the tone like I was and there no doubt she was. I could almost feel the warmth of her growing smile from here and it made me grin as well.
Finally finding Tony was fairly anti-climatic, from the sound of it, at least from my end of the cell phone. There was just a lot of grunting and shifting and doors opening and muted voices and then they were back in the car, the doors slamming shut. And that's when both Abby and I realized something had changed...they were too quiet. I looked once at her image on the screen, saw her shrug, and then took my chance.
"Uh, Ducky?"
It took a moment before I got a response and I got the impression the cell had been tossed somewhere when they's gotten out to get Tony but the voice that responded didn't belong to our medical examiner. I immedaitely recognized Agent Fornell's gruff voice.
"What is it, McGee?"
"We were...I mean, Abby and I were wondering about Tony."
There was a long pause. "We've got him."
"Is he okay?" I really wanted to know because something was giving me, as my grandmother use to say, the heebie-jeebies.
Another long pause. "Look, McGee, Gibbs and Ducky are taking care of DiNozzo and I'm driving us back as fast as I can, so how about you let me use both of my hands and we'll be there shortly. Okay?"
And then he hung up on me...just like that. I wanted to be offended and I guess I was, deep down, but I really did understand his reasoning. I looked back toward Abby's concerned face, saw her suddenly slant her eyes quickly to one side, and then whisper a swift, "I gotta go", before I lost contact with her as well. We all knew she had to be careful when communicating with us, so she'd probably had someone enter the lab.
I shut everything down, cleared up the clutter, and settled back to wait, unconsciously counting the long minutes that crawled by. I caught myself chewing nervously at a rough thumb nail, worried it until it actually bled, and then forced myself to stop before I could do any more damage. Jerking out of the chair, I began to pace the space in front of the huge king-sized bed, back and forth, watching the rug's floral pattern at my feet shift and transform each time I changed direction. I knew I was beginning to really lose it when I thought about those guys waiting in the hospital for their children to be born, pacing up and down the hallways like I was doing here right now. Expectant father...yep, that's me.
When the door finally opened and I turned to greet my recently-resurrected colleague, I had to stop dead in my tracks, getting my first real good look at him since his disappearance three and a half weeks ago. My mouth must have been hanging open because Ducky gently knuckled it closed as he passed by, moving swiftly to tug the covers back and prepare the bed to receive Tony's shivering form. And, I guess, *that's* what was making me stare: his form.
Usually as tall and as broad as Gibbs, Tony now only came up to the middle of our boss' chin and was no where as filled out as he should be. In fact, he looked like he was only...
Oh, my God, that was it! All that talk about human growth hormones and pituitary glands and Somatotropin and anti-aging and all that other stuff Ducky had droned on and on came back and hit me smack in the face. Tony now looked like he was no older than fifteen or sixteen years old, his face smoother than I've ever seen it before: no small laugh lines around his eyes, no tiny crease on his forehead, no blemishes of any kind at all!
Oh, my God...
As Gibbs and Fornell finally got him settled and tucked under the thick covers, his green gaze finally caught mine and I could see a spark of the Tony I knew. It was there, just muted with fear and fatigue and pain.
"Hey, Probie," he mumbled weakly in a slightly higher tenor voice.
Expect the unexpected. Yeah, you got *that* right.
TBC
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs is finally in Idaho...but, now, where is DiNozzo?
Chapter End Notes:
Further warnings: McGee POV, language, hurt/comfort.