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Well, at least I’m not dead.


That was the first rational thought that popped into Tony’s head as he regai… well, he’d never fully lost consciousness, but he’d certainly taken a trauma-fueled vacation from general awareness. He’d been in-between, here-and-not-here, the pain he was now feeling with gusto having previously been cushioned by the adrenaline rush that always seemed to come when he was injured.


He was vaguely aware that he had been shot, or at least that’s what his scattered memories of the previous events seemed to be pointing to. He remembered the loud bang of a firearm and the shock of hitting the ground, and he was pretty sure that Gibbs had dragged him back into the treeline.


I should probably open my eyes. This is really gonna suck.


Tony hated this part of coming to. The first attempt almost always ended in lots of pain and quickly slamming his eyes shut only to have to fight to reopen them all over again. It would be easier to just keep them closed. Perhaps I could take a nap…


Except he kept hearing this annoying sound, right in his ear, and it felt like something was shaking him. Great, now I have to open my eyes just to figure out what on earth is going on and to make that buzzing sound stop.


Tony cracked his eyes open the tiniest bit, hissing as the light hit his pupils. He obligingly squeezed them shut again, hand twitching feebly towards his head in protest. As he did so, the world around him seemed to snap into place, and the sudden proper interpretation of what he had mentally labeled the noise from Hell caused his eyes to pop open and his body to stiffen.


Tony’s eyes locked onto the concerned gaze of Gibbs, and he could pinpoint the exact moment that relief hit the older man, body sagging a bit as he let out a deep breath. The noise that had been tormenting him had been Gibbs’ voice urging Tony to look at him, the shaking the work of Gibbs’ hands as he tried to wake Tony up.


“Welcome back, Tony. Whatever happened to ‘DiNozzos don’t pass out’, huh?”


“Dinn’t pazzout, B’ss. Was just restin’ my eyes.” Tony’s response came out mumbled and mushy, but at least his tongue was obeying his brain enough to be understood.


“I don’t pay you to lay around on the job, DiNozzo.”


“Not payin’ me, B’ss, ‘m on vacashun, ‘member? ‘Sides, guv’ment signs m’ checks, not you.”


Tony was mildly disturbed by the fact that he was still slurring his words. Normally that would be the sign of yet another concussion, but aside from the pain of the light in his eyes his head really wasn’t hurting enough to come to that conclusion. Something else must be wrong, then. And why do I feel all sticky?


As awareness of his surroundings slowly creeped back in, Tony realized that he was leaning half-reposed against a tree trunk. He glanced down his body in an effort to determine why exactly he felt so discombobulated. His brain wasn’t engaging properly for some reason. As soon as he saw the large crimson stain, he closed his eyes and wished he hadn’t looked.


That’s a lot of blood, DiNozzo.


Tony concentrated hard on where exactly he felt pain in his body in an effort to pinpoint where he’d been shot. He’d felt the pain, of course, but he had been too woozy to focus on the specific source. He tried to shift his weight to make himself more comfortable only to feel like a sledgehammer had slammed into his torso. Pain so intense it should probably have its own entourage of curse words flooded his system, and he cried out weakly as steadying hands grasped him.


“Easy, Tony, easy. Don’t try to move. I’ve barely got the bleeding under control as it is, and if you puke or try to bleed out on me I’ll have you riding a desk for a month, got it?”


Tony didn’t have the breath to answer, so he hoped a small head nod would do. At least now he knew where he’d been hit: left side, towards the bottom of his rib cage, through and through on a bit of an angle. From the way he felt, Tony wagered a guess that the bullet had nicked a rib on the way, but it hadn’t clipped his lung or his kidney. It would take very precise aim or a great deal of luck on his part to avoid having his internal organs perforated; there was a very small amount of leeway inside the ribcage. Even without clipping a major organ, a torso shot like that could bleed like a son of a gun. The broken rib from the bullet’s passing wasn’t helping matters any, either. If infection set in, Tony knew he’d be in serious trouble.


Well, at least it’s not the plague again.


The pain from his injury combined with the blood loss was making it hard to focus, and Tony wanted nothing more than to shut his eyes and fall asleep. He felt his eyes closing of their own accord, and the last thing he heard as he slipped into unconsciousness was the sound of Gibbs’ voice telling him to hang on, DiNozzo.


~***N*C*I*S***~


When Tony came to again, the first thing he noticed was that he could no longer hear the rushing sound of the stream. Using his incredible deductive reasoning skills that made him such a great detective, Tony determined that he’d been moved. Cracking his eyes open, he glanced warily around to confirm his theory.


He were still in the forest, that much was clear, but Tony didn’t recognize any landmarks around him. There didn’t appear to be a path nearby, either, nor could Tony see Gibbs from where he half-laid, half-sat against a downed tree. Turning his head to take in more details took more effort than he would have thought necessary, but he managed.


He was surprised to find both of their packs leaning against the trunk to his right. Gibbs must’ve run back to the camp to get them. Guess that’s why they pay me the big bucks; I’m such a good investigator.


Remembering what happened last time he tried to move himself, Tony very cautiously tried to shift into more of a sitting position. The flare of pain was not as intense as it had been last time, but it was enough to convince him to reevaluate his plan. He let out a small groan, too hurting and tired to care about making any noise that could be perceived as weakness.


Suddenly, Gibbs was right next to him, his hands reaching out to steady him.


“Careful, Tony. You’ve been out for a while, and you’ve lost a lot of blood.”


“Boss, where are we? What happened? What’s going on?”


Tony was delighted to discover that his linguistic functions were back online, even if his mouth felt as dry as the desert they’d hauled Ziva out of. He licked his lips, eyes looking around for a canteen. Gibbs, once again, read the look on Tony’s face and was offering him water within seconds.


“Small sips, Tony. You’re not going to want to throw up with this bullet hole in ya.”


As Tony drank, he noted the look of concern on Gibbs’ face. The older man was uncharacteristically gentle, his voice pitched in a low, soothing tone that he normally reserved for frightened children and traumatized victims. It’s like seeing Bizarro Gibbs, or the anti-Gibbs, or perhaps Nega-Gibbs, except that Gibbs isn’t actually evil in this scenario...


Gibbs finally pulled the canteen away when he saw that Tony had had enough to drink.


“Ya got shot, DiNozzo, that’s what happened. As for where we are, we’re somewhere south of the stream and west of the camp. I tried to move us further east to get down the mountain, but whoever shot you is hiding out back that way. I don’t know for sure how many are out there, so I dragged your sorry ass up the mountain to this spot and went back for the packs. I’ve managed to patch you up as best I can, but I don’t recommend you try moving any time soon unless you absolutely have to.”


Tony blinked at what was practically a speech from Gibbs. Maybe it’s more like an alternate-dimension Gibbs - still the same essential steely Marine Corps core with minor differences like a sudden fondness for verbalization and emotive expression.


“Wait, so you left me alone and unconscious to go back and grab our stuff? Are you sure that was such a great idea, Boss?”


Gibbs’ glare heated up at that. “Well, DiNozzo, it was either that or let you bleed to death. Given that my plan at least gave you a chance of surviving, I figured it was worth the risk. Though, by all means, next time I’ll just sit around and watch you slowly bleed out if you think it’s a better idea.”


Ah, there’s the Gibbs I know and love.


“No, Boss. Sorry, Boss. Any idea how many bad guys are out there?”


Gibbs’ scowl eased up into a mere frown at Tony’s apologetic tone. “I don’t think there’s that many, otherwise they would have surrounded us and taken us out by now. I haven’t seen anybody yet, but my gut tells me there’s probably only one person out there, two at the most. I did manage to come across what looks like a rough campsite just east of where we pitched our tents. Could be where the perp was holed up last night, which means we’ve been followed for a while now. Not sure yet if they’re after you, me, or both of us. Tried radioing for help, but haven’t gotten an answer yet. Could be our perp has a signal jammer. Not sure what’s going on, Tony.”


Tony winced at that. The thought of somebody watching him and Gibbs last night made his skin crawl and his face heat up. Yeah, that’s not creepy and embarrassing at all.


“So what’s the plan, Boss?”


“Gotta get us some shelter first. They aren’t calling for rain at least, so I’m more interested in rigging up something to hide our presence than I am in getting a roof over our heads. I’ve got our ground rolls, so we won’t freeze. I don’t think the perp has tracked us here yet, so I’m gonna go set some false trails and try to obscure the real one. You gonna be OK here by yourself for a while?”


Tony grunted as he slid himself a little more upright, riding out the pain as his hand went to his Sig and drew it. The log he leaned against with large enough that his head still couldn’t be seen over it, and the two trees that flanked it on either end did a great job of obscuring him from any prying eyes. Of course, it also cut off his line of sight, but it was worth the tradeoff if it kept him hidden on three sides.


“Sure, I’ve got this. I’ll just sit here and shoot first, ask questions later. Go do your crazy scary Marine Sniper thing, Boss.”


Gibbs snorted at Tony’s flippant reply and moved the packs so they were helping to support Tony, one on each side. Tony carefully reached over and opened his, pulling out two more clips for his Sig as well as some energy bars. He opened one and chewed it slowly, smiling at his boss through a mouthful of half-chewed granola. When Gibbs seemed to hesitate, an uncharacteristically uncertain look on his face, Tony rolled his eyes at him and made a shooing motion.


With one more backwards glance, as if to reassure himself that Tony was still alive, Gibbs stepped into the woods and out of Tony’s line of sight. Tony sighed deeply and set himself for what could wind up being a long, tense wait. He felt the slow trickle of adrenaline start to hit his system and braced himself more firmly against the log, wincing a bit as his torso shifted.


Time passed slowly, but Tony knew that it had been quite a while since Gibbs had left. Suddenly, Tony heard the crackle of dried leaves a short distance forward and to his left, and he strained to hear more over the sudden pounding of his heart. For a few moments, nothing happened, then he caught motion out of the corner of his left eye. He pulled his Sig up, finger on the trigger, as he came face to face with the source of the noise.


A squirrel hopped across the ground in his limited line of sight before climbing up the tree to his right.


Tony sagged back against the log as he chuckled to himself in relief, shaking his head. He eased the gun back down onto his lap as he sighed, the sudden spike in adrenaline leaving him twitchy. He was a bit tired, but there would be no rest until Gibbs got back. The late afternoon sun was shining down through the trees in patches, lighting up the landscape around him. As the day wore to a close and darkness fell, Tony knew it would be both a blessing and a curse. He would have trouble seeing through the darkness, but then again his pursuer or pursuers would have a lot more trouble finding him. He hoped that Gibbs would be back before then.


Man, I was right. This really, really sucks.

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