Chapter 57. Alive
The next morning they head to the hospital. Ducky, Jimmy,
and Breena are on vigil in the waiting room.
"How is he?" Tim had asked that about nine times
now. On the phone when he called Jimmy for an update. Of Abby, each time she
checked in over the course of the night. And now of Ducky, who is sitting with
Jimmy and Breena, looking to be in a good humor.
"He'll be fine, Timothy. They're keeping him here until
tonight, maybe tomorrow morning, just to keep an eye on things, but he's going
to be fine."
Tim nods. "Where's Gibbs? In with him?"
"No. Jethro is home. Once I had him thawed out, I
called Fornell and told him to hold a gun to his head if necessary, but to make
sure he rested and stayed off his feet, and then I came here."
Tim smiles a little at that image, and adds going to visit
Gibbs to the to-do list. "Can we go in?"
"They were resting when we left, but yes, I think you
can go in," Ducky says. "Room 211."
They head down the hall, and find the room. The door is
shut, and Abby knocks softly. They hear Ziva say, "Come in."
Tony's sleeping in the bed. For someone who is going to be
just fine, there are a lot of bandages on him. His fingers and ears are wrapped
in soft white gauze. But there are no tubes in him, and he's breathing, and his
color is good, so maybe he really is going to be okay.
Ziva's laying on her side, next to him on the bed, her hand
on his chest.
She gets up slowly and gently when she sees it's them. As
soon as she's clear of Tony, Abby wraps her in a massive, and quiet, hug. Tim
hangs back for a second, hoping she's not pissed at him, either for treating
her like a doll in need of extra protection, or for not doing more for Tony,
but she looks at him over Abby's shoulder and gestures for him, and in another
second he's wrapped around both of them, too.
After a few minutes, Ziva pulled back and looked at him.
"You are all right?"
He nods. He's as all right as he can be. "You?"
"Yes."
"Has he woken up?" Tim asks.
"Yes. They've got him on strong pain medication, and
it's making him sleep."
"Okay." Abby sees him staring at Tony, and knows
what he needs.
"When was the last time you got something to eat?"
she asks Ziva, who looks exhausted.
"I do not know."
"Come on, let's get you some food, and we'll pick up an
extra-large whatever you think Tony would like."
Ziva sees Tim watching Tony, and agrees to go. Abby leads her out, arm around her waist.
He drags the chair, quietly, next to the bed. He'd take
Tony's hand, but they're covered in bandages, so he gently holds his wrist.
He can feel Tony's pulse under his fingers, see the slow
rise/fall of his chest, and for the first time since Tony said, "Yes,
Ma'am." Tim really believes he's alive. He sighs at that, starting to
really relax.
"Ziva?" Tony doesn't open his eyes when he says
that.
"Abby took her to get some food."
"McGee?" He turns his face toward Tim, but still
has his eyes shut.
"Yeah."
"You've got really soft hands."
Tim smiles a little. "Thanks."
"Is Gibbs here?"
"Ducky tells me he's got Fornell holding a gun to his
head, forcing him to stay home and rest. His feet were pretty badly
frostbitten."
"Yeah. They tell me I'm short a few toes, now, and the
top of my right ear."
"Shit." He needs to have a chat with Ducky as to
what constitutes fine. Missing body parts is not "fine."
"She says she's fine. Is she, really?"
"I think so. No frostbite, and Palmer wasn't going to
let her come until she was warmed back up."
"You don't think she killed Palmer and came here
anyway?"
"He and Breena are in the waiting room."
"Good."
He sits there, holding onto Tony's wrist, not sure what, if
anything, to say.
Tony opens his eyes and looks at Tim. "I kind of
remember you telling her not to switch places with me."
"Yeah."
Tony's eyes are half closed, and not very focused, but his
expression is intense, and Tim knows whatever he says next, he means with every
fiber of his soul. "Thanks."
"I hated doing it." He doesn't wipe away the tear
that's creeping down his cheek.
"I know." Tony's eyes slide shut again.
"Tony."
"Yeah?"
Tim squeezes his wrist. "I'm really glad you're
alive."
"Me, too."
Tony drifts back to sleep after that, and Tim sits there
holding his wrist. He dozes a little as well, but he hears it when the door
opens, and turns to look.
Gibbs is standing there, pale, in pain or high as a kite on
painkillers,—Tim can't tell which from this far away.—and swaying a little.
He stands up fast and goes to Gibbs, wrapping an arm around
him, letting him rest his weight on him, trying to get it off his feet.
"You shot Fornell, didn't you?"
"He's okay?" Gibbs is staring at Tony as Tim
basically carries him to the sofa on the side of the room.
"Ducky says he is. But he's lost some toes and part of
his ear."
Gibbs nods, letting Tim put him on the sofa, feet up. Tim
really looks at him, and decides high as a kite on painkillers is the correct
answer. His eyes are dilated and not focusing well.
"You should be in bed."
"Had to see him."
"I know, me too."
Gibbs stares at Tim for a long time. He's laying on the
sofa, and Tim is standing next to it, watching Tony.
"C'mere."
Tim sits on the edge of the sofa and Gibbs sits up and hugs
him, tight. "You got us all home, Tim."
He thought, after last night and this morning, that he was
cried out, but apparently he wasn't. Tim hasn't been hugged, not like this, not
by a dad, since his grandfather died, and he'd forgotten how good it felt and
how much he needed it. And eventually he felt Ziva and Abby join them, wrapping
around the two of them, and it felt so very good to have people to hold when
you're hurt and scared.
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