Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from NCIS.

Author's Note: I can't believe this is it! I hope you find the ending satisfactory. I posted a little earlier than I planned since several had asked for it (Vanishing2000, I couldn't leave you hanging for three weeks with no internet-lol)!

I can't thank everyone who has reviewed enough. I've enjoyed reading each and every one of your comments! (I'm still trying to reply to everyone from yesterday. It's been a crazy day). It makes me happy to know there are people out there who enjoy my little hobby.

So I look forward to seeing your thoughts on this last chapter. And you lurkers—you know who you are—come out, come out wherever you are! Let's hear from you, too!

Many humble thanks-until next time :)

TH

It took Gibbs a few minutes to get his bearings. The hospital room was quiet and cold, with only the soft beeping of monitors and whirring of machines to break the silence. A nurse was in the room, silently taking Tony's pulse; she looked up at their entrance.

Her eyes narrowed as she evaluated the unexpected arrivals; Gibbs prepared for a fight since he wasn't leaving.

"Are you Agent Gibbs?" she asked, surprising him.

"Yes, I am."

"I was beginning to doubt you were ever going to show up. Get over here now. You might be the only person who can get through to him at this point. He's not listening to anybody else." She appeared to be both worried and exasperated. Gibbs wasn't surprised. It was a common reaction from those who cared about DiNozzo. "My name's Marjorie," she said.

Jackson pushed Gibbs close to Tony's bed. "What is all this?" the Lead Agent asked, taken aback at all the equipment and machines. He had seen his agent incapacitated before, but this….the young man definitely looked like someone who was being provided intensive care.

"We have Agent DiNozzo on dialysis due to his deteriorating kidney function," she explained. "The rest, well, we're doing our best to keep him around a while longer. I guess we've used everything we can think of."

"Can I talk to him?" Gibbs asked.

"We can try to wake him up. But I want to warn you, his oxygen levels are fairly low, and he's become confused as a result. He might not understand you, and he might not make much sense himself. Just be prepared," she explained. "And don't let him take off the mask. We had to change from the nasal cannula and he wasn't happy about it, but he needs as much oxygen as he can get into his system right now."

Gently she leaned over and shook Tony's arm. "Tony. Tony wake up. There's someone here to see you. You've been waiting for him."

Finally, after several failed attempts, DiNozzo lifted his eyelids and gazed around. "Hey there," Marjorie said kindly, catching his attention. "Agent Gibbs is here to see you, Tony. I didn't think you'd want to sleep through his visit."

Gibbs is here? Everything filtered to him as if through a layer of gauze, and he had to fight to keep the words from floating away. Gibbs. With great effort he turned his head to find the chair by his bed still empty. Maybe he was dreaming; his head felt so foggy it was possible.

"Over here, DiNozzo." His eyes tracked to where the sound came from and he saw a person in another chair. Silver hair, blue eyes, a wheelchair? He lifted his hand to the mask on his face, trying to remove it, but unable to fully control his pudgy, blue-tinged, swollen fingers. Who's hand is this? he wondered suddenly. It doesn't even look like mine.

Someone grasped his hand and took it away from the mask. "Leave that alone, Tony. It won't hurt you to be quiet for a while." The person held his hand and didn't let go. It took a few seconds, but Tony eventually recognized Jack. He tried to mumble the other man's name, but the sound was caught inside the plastic covering his mouth. The elderly man squeezed Tony's fingers and rubbed his arm.

"You got yourself into quite a mess this time, didn't you DiNozzo?" Gibbs said lightly. "I get shot and nearly bleed to death and you still find a way to show me up."

The door opened and a doctor entered the room. "Did you page me, Marjorie? Is everything ok?"

"We had a scary incident a little while ago when Tony couldn't breathe, but he's settled down now. I think he's stable with the mask on," she explained.

The doctor appraised the other men in the room.

"I'm Agent Gibbs and this is my father, Jackson. I'm Tony's boss and I also hold his medical power-of-attorney." Gibbs thought it best to stake his territory as quickly as possible.

Jackson raised an eyebrow at the statement. He didn't know about that small tidbit. The layers of this complicated relationship continued to unfold.

"I see. I'm Dr. Warren. We definitely need to talk."

Jackson placed Tony's hand back under the sheet and pushed his son to the far side of the room. Gibbs shifted uncomfortably, not very happy about having to use the wheelchair but knowing it was currently his only option. His abdomen throbbed dully, but he ignored his own pain to focus on DiNozzo. "Is this as bad as it looks?" the blue-eyed man asked, getting to the point.

"I'm afraid it is. Tony is very close to complete respiratory failure; his blood oxygenation is about as low as it can get. I've suggested use of a respirator for a short time, just until Tony fights off this infection, but he's refusing the treatment even though he could be sedated during the process. I don't know what else to do for him," the doctor said, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation from the patient.

The silver-haired man looked over at his stubborn senior field agent and shook his head. "He's been on a vent before and hates it," Gibbs informed the physician.

"No one likes it, Agent Gibbs. But with his history of lung related issues, it's always going to be a consideration if he is seriously ill." The doctor paused and rubbed his chin. "With the mental condition he's currently in, we could use your medical power-of-attorney and put him on the respirator anyway," Dr. Warren suggested. He folded his arms and waited to hear the other man's response.

Gibbs considered the possibility. When Tony had given him the authority to make medical decisions for him, it had seemed like a formality. The paperwork had to be completed, and reaching Tony's father during an emergency when every second counted was a long-shot at best. So Gibbs got the honor. "I wouldn't want my Dad to be the one to make those choices anyway," Tony had said, laughing nervously. "He might sell my organs for a down payment on a condo." DiNozzo had turned it into a joke, but Gibbs heard the truth and regret behind the statement. He took the role Tony had given him seriously, just like he took this decision seriously.

Gibbs was humbled by the fact the younger man trusted him enough to know what he wanted, even when the stakes were life and death. Gibbs looked back over at DiNozzo, who had closed his eyes again and was lying unmoving in the sea of life-saving equipment. I've got your six, Tony. I always will. The marine knew what he would want, and that Tony's choice would be the same.

His blue eyes met the doctor's. "I can't do that to him. If he said no, I won't override his wishes. But let me talk to him, maybe I can get him to change his mind."

The doctor sighed. "All right, Agent Gibbs. But I'm telling you to talk fast. The quicker we can get this done, the better I'm going to feel about his chances."

"Understood," Gibbs agreed.

After the doctor left, Gibbs once more took position by Tony's bed. This time he reached out and moved Tony's sweaty hair off his face, not really caring if his agent was still mad at him or not. He thought about his rules, the rules that Tony had so diligently memorized and tried, but often failed, to follow. Gibbs wasn't doing such a good job of following those rules himself.

Right now, the rule that stuck out in his mind was number eight, never take anything for granted. There were a great many things Tony wanted to know about him, about his life, but Gibbs had been unwilling, or unable, to share very much. He had taken the opportunity to talk with Tony for granted, and now the opportunity might be gone.

"Dad, do you know where my wallet is?" the younger Gibbs asked.

"Your wallet? I guess it's with your other things back in your room. Why?"

"Would you get it for me? I need something in it," he said. He frowned as Tony shifted slightly and groaned. The heart monitor sped up while his breathing picked up pace; his head tossed restlessly. Gibbs reached out and placed his rough hand on Tony's arm; DiNozzo continued to move and stir. He whimpered unconsciously.

Marjorie looked up from her chart and moved closer to the bed.

The Lead Agent paid no attention to the nurse; he leaned toward his friend. "Sshhh, Tony. Ssshhh. You're ok." The often gruff voice was as soft as a gentle breeze. He continued to quietly shush the younger man; after a few seconds the heart monitor slowed and Tony settled into a more peaceful sleep.

The nurse glanced over at Jackson and smiled. Tears welled in the older man's crinkled eyes. He cleared his throat to regain his composure.

"Are you sure your wallet can't wait, Leroy? I mean, considering the situation…." Jackson was confused by his son's request.

Once Gibbs was sure Tony no longer struggled against some unknown discomfort, he straightened up and met his father's stare. "Trust me, Dad. I need it to help Tony." When the older man still hesitated, he tried to avoid sounding irritated. "Could you hurry?"

Jackson was still puzzled, but gave in to the urgency of his son's strange demand and left. Returning a few minutes later, he handed over the worn leather wallet. "I don't know what you could be planning to do with this, but I hope it works." The elderly man walked to DiNozzo's bedside. "Hold on, Tony," he said tenderly, letting his hand linger on the field agent's brow. Jackson turned back to his son. "Holler if you need anything." Marjorie left the room behind him.

Alone, Gibbs licked his lips; this wouldn't be easy, for him or for Tony.

"DiNozzo," he said, his voice quiet but unyielding. "DiNozzo, I need to talk to you. Don't make me yell."

Tony's eyes opened a fraction, seeking the source of the voice. Gibbs reached out his hand and turned his young friend's head toward him. DiNozzo's eyes grew wide as if seeing him for the first time.

"You're giving everybody here quite a scare, Tony. They have some crazy notion you plan on dying tonight. I told them you wouldn't do that; you didn't ask for permission."

Gibbs saw a memory flicker across Tony's eyes. Better to seek forgiveness than to ask for permission. "And no, I won't forgive you if you die on me."

Tony closed his eyes. Gibbs was implying he could just choose not to die. It wasn't that simple this time.

"I would've been here to see you sooner, but getting shot myself kind of kept me out of commission for a few days. I didn't know you needed me," he said.

Tony's green eyes flashed again. Gibbs wished he knew what the younger man was thinking; he forged ahead. I've never been one to back down from a challenge and I won't start now. "Do you remember being in Davenport's cellar with me?"

There was a pause, but slowly Tony nodded.

"Good," the Lead Agent said. "You told me some things, and I never got my turn to let you know what I thought. I was getting ready to say you were right, Tony. You were right about me not trusting you, or the team, or anybody else with my personal problems. I guess I always believed they were my responsibility and I should keep you guys out of it; that I was doing what was best for you." He sighed heavily. "That hasn't worked out so great, huh?"

DiNozzo blinked in response. Gibbs didn't seem mad at him for any of the things he'd said or done, for which he was glad. He really wasn't angry at Gibbs anymore, either, but he did wish the older man would start letting him in when things got personal.

"Not contacting you was a mistake. I would expect you to come to me for help and I should have shown you the same respect. I'm sorry," Gibbs continued.

Tony reached for the mask again; Gibbs took his hand away and placed it back on the bed. "I'm talking this time, DiNozzo. I know what you're going to say anyway; hell it's not like I didn't pound those rules into your head with a sledgehammer. Apologizing might be a sign of weakness professionally, but not when you're talking to a friend."

Tony eyes fluttered. Gibbs never apologized. Never. Especially not to him. I really must be dying.

"There's something else I said that needs cleared up." The hard blue eyes pierced into him. The older man wasn't done yet.

"I told you I wasn't your father." Gibbs broke his gaze for a minute, collected his thoughts. His voice dropped a few decibels. "Tony, I don't know why your old man treated you the way he did. If I had been fortunate enough to be your father…." He stopped and laughed, his blue eyes sparkling. "We would have gone fishing, and built tree houses, and played catch in the backyard. I would have told you about the birds and the bees." Gibbs could see condensation on Tony's mask, and wondered if the younger man had tried to laugh at that. "I would have never missed a basketball game, or a school play, or a parent-teacher conference. And I would never, ever have sent you away to boarding school. I would've treasured every minute you were there." He stopped and made sure Tony was looking at him. "Kind of like I've done since I've been lucky enough to have you work with me."

Not fair, Gibbs. This is so not fair. But when had Gibbs ever fought fair? Tony could feel his eyes grow hot, but even now, he would not allow himself to cry.

"I'm not your father Tony, because if I had been, not a day would've gone by that you didn't know I loved you."

Well, shit. After all this time, Tony hadn't known that Gibbs could even say the word love.

And Tony realized the truth of it all. That from the moment he met the Lead Agent, the man had exuded a fatherly spirit; he epitomized the desire to teach, instruct, and train. Every head-slap reminded him of it. It was all he had ever wanted from another person, and Gibbs had given that to him for the last ten years. The older man had shown him what it was like to have a real father, a father who would sacrifice anything for him. It was a gift more priceless than anything else he could ever receive.

The blue-eyed man gave DiNozzo his famous half-smile. Got you with that, didn't I? he thought. Tony's eyes were wide green pools staring back at him.

"I have something to show you." Gibbs picked up his battered old wallet. Tony had seen it many times when the Lead Agent paid for coffee or bought them a pizza.

The older man's thumb brushed across the distressed leather as he hesitated. "If you tell anybody about this, I'll probably kill you myself."

Not the best choice of words to say to a dying man, Tony thought, but Gibbs was never known for his tact.

The ex-marine pulled out a small stack of pictures. They had been jammed into a pocket in the back, behind some old credit cards.

The first photograph he took out was of Shannon and Kelly. It had faded with time, but the weathered edges didn't diminish their beauty and happy smiles. "My girls," he said wistfully. "I take them with me everywhere."

Tony watched with fascination. He had completely forgotten about not being able to breathe. He had no idea what the boss was doing.

The next picture surprised him. It was one of the whole team; they were standing close together, laughing. "Somebody took this at that teamwork picnic Vance made us go to. Do you remember that day? I think you challenged everybody at NCIS to one-on-one. But I still threw a football farther than you." His blue eyes twinkled.

Tony remembered; it had been an awesome day. He even got McGeek to play basketball with him. Abby had displayed some impressive moves. Poor Ziva had been clueless.

The next picture Gibbs showed him caused a stab of pain. It was Kate. "I still can't believe she's gone," the silver-haired man said sadly. "She was one-of-a-kind. You two made a great team."

DiNozzo could see her lying on the cold roof with blood pouring from the hole in her head. He looked back at the picture of the way he wanted to remember her; beautiful dark eyes, dark hair, wicked grin. He shook his head at Gibbs. This wasn't fun anymore.

"But I haven't shown you this one yet," the Lead Agent said. "I really shouldn't even have it. I kind of stole it." Tony's curiosity was piqued. Whose picture would Gibbs' steal? "I was over at your place one night to pick you up so we could go to a crime scene. I guess you'd been looking through a box of old pictures and left it open on the table while you grabbed a shower." He shrugged. "I saw this picture on the top, and it was just so…." Gibbs smiled. "I took it."

It was a school picture of Tony, taken when he was about eleven years old. His brown hair was a mess, long and unruly, dark freckles dotted his nose, his green eyes sparkled. He was thin, tan, and wearing the biggest, miles-wide smile that would fit on his face. "You just looked so damn happy."

Even if DiNozzo could speak, he would have been at a loss for words.

"I have this one, too. But I got it out of your file, so technically I didn't steal it." Tony hadn't seen the picture in years; it was one of him wearing his Peoria police uniform. It was his first real job; he had been so proud. His father hadn't attended his graduation ceremony from the police academy; DiNozzo Senior had probably never even seen him in uniform. And there was Gibbs, gruff, grumpy Gibbs, carrying around a picture of him in it.

"You were way too skinny then," Gibbs added. His blue eyes, the eyes Tony had seen stare down everyone from crazed terrorists to psychopathic serial killers, held a look of kindness and concern the younger man could barely fathom. How he had ever earned that look from Gibbs he would never, ever know. But it meant more to him than anything else in the world. The stinging in his eyes grew stronger; he felt himself teetering on the edge of an emotional wave. He breathed in as deeply as he could, trying to hold it back, to keep it all inside.

The older man smiled sheepishly and put the pictures safely away in the wallet. "These are pictures of my family, Tony, so I had to have a few special ones of you," he said. "We might not always see eye-to-eye, but that will never change anything. Never. Do you understand?"

Tony had turned his face toward the wall. Gibbs reached out and turned it back. Stray tears had escaped and were trailing down DiNozzo's cheeks; Gibbs didn't admonish him, or spout some inane platitude about how DiNozzo's don't cry. Instead, the older man used his calloused thumb to gently wipe them away. It was a gesture of tenderness that nearly broke down every barrier Tony had spent his entire life carefully constructing. He blinked rapidly and made a hitching sound in his throat. "Do you understand?" Gibbs repeated, refusing to let him go without an answer.

Tony nodded. He understood; he was just so overwhelmed, it was impossible to know how to react. He was almost glad he couldn't speak, because he couldn't think of one single thing to say that was worthy of the moment.

"Alright then. They're going to kick me out of here soon, and I won't be able to come back for a couple of hours. So I need you to make me a promise. Promise me that when I come back you'll be waiting. You can fight for two more hours, right?"

Tony thought about it. Two hours sounded possible. If Gibbs thought he could do it, he could hang on for that long.

"Give me your word. I know you won't break your word to me."

Tony nodded again. Gibbs smiled and squeezed the younger man's hand.

"I'll see you in two hours."

NCISNCISNCIS

When Jackson brought Gibbs back and left him in Tony's room two hours later, Marjorie and Dr. Warren were helping DiNozzo through another bout of vomiting. By the time they lay him back in bed he was so ashen and grey that Gibbs thought he might already be gone. But when he drew close, Tony tried to grin and mumbled, "Still here."

"I can see that. Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"N..no, it's just…cold," he was shaking violently. His lips and nose were blackish-blue, reminding Gibbs of that other dark time. Marjorie appeared with a freshly warmed blanket which she drew up over him. "Th..thanks," he whispered. He wished he could curl into a ball, but all the tubes and monitors forced him to stay on his back.

"Does he have a fever?" Gibbs asked the nurse. "He looks like he's freezing."

"No, his fever broke some time ago. As the sepsis progresses the skin becomes cold and clammy instead of feverish," Dr. Warren explained. Tony started coughing and gagging; the doctor eased him up some. "Come on, Tony, you need to get the mask back on."

"W….wait," he said. "Not….yet."

He wanted to talk to Gibbs; he was afraid there wasn't going to be much time left for him to talk. "Please?" he added softly. Not even crusty doctors were immune to a sincere DiNozzo plea.

"Just a few more minutes," the doctor gave in.

Tony closed his eyes and took as many steadying breaths as he could. When he looked at Gibbs, the silver-haired man could tell his friend wanted to say something.

"What is it, Tony?" he asked.

"I….don't know….thank you…..not enough." The green eyes pinched with the effort to speak. It was amazing the amount of oxygen required to form simple words.

"I know how you can thank me, Tony. Let the doctor use the vent. It won't be for long, and I won't have to worry about you choking to death," he said.

He could see Tony contemplating. Finally, the younger man responded quietly. He refused to open his eyes to look at his mentor, ashamed of what he was feeling. "Scared….I won't….wake up. Can't die….like that."

"I won't let that happen, Tony. I'll watch your six." But when Tony finally gazed at him, he could still see fear in DiNozzo's eyes.

Tony wasn't sure even Leroy Jethro Gibbs could fight off death if it really wanted to take him. Maybe the old marine could, but he didn't think he was ready to take that chance.

"Not yet, boss. Not yet." He coughed some more, but tried to hold it in, sputtering instead. "Let me try….a little longer." Maybe he could still get better without the respirator.

"Ok, Tony, just think about it."

Dr. Warren came over. "It's time, Tony." The doctor slipped the mask back on and adjusted the straps. Tony wouldn't tell them, but he was grateful. It was just too hard to breathe without it. Exhaustion tugged again, and despite the fact he didn't want them to, his eyes closed.

Marjorie returned and started her routine, checking monitors and vitals, changing the IV bag. She brushed the hair back from the young agent's face. Gibbs watched her. "How is he doing?"

She shook her head. "His blood pressure is dropping and his heart rate is tachy; it's still not good."

"Did you hear what he said? Is he right to be scared?"

"At this point, there are no guarantees we can stop the infection so, yes, he has reason to be afraid. But it's still his best shot. He's just too weak to keep going like this," she explained.

Gibbs leaned back in the wheelchair, trying to decide if he should force Tony to go on the respirator. They could just knock him out and do it; DiNozzo couldn't stop them. But it just didn't seem right to do it that way, against his will. The agent always took pride in knowing exactly what path to take, but this time, this time he was afraid of making the wrong choice.

The stakes were so damn high.

"How are you, Agent Gibbs?" Marjorie asked, noticing the older man's pale complexion. "Since Tony's asleep, maybe you should get some rest, too."

"Not a bad idea," Jackson said, coming back into the room. "Time for a nap, Leroy." The older man brushed his hand across Tony's head.

Gibbs stared hard at Marjorie. "Get me if something changes. I'll be back in two hours."

"It's a promise," she said, touching his arm. Nothing would stop her from bringing them back together if the time came he needed to be there.

NCISNCISNCIS

When the two Gibbs men returned to the Lead Agent's room, they found the team once again waiting inside. As Jackson moved to help his son back into bed, the former gunnery sergeant gave him a withering look and stood to do it himself. With some effort, and more than a little pain, he ultimately arranged himself back against the pillows.

"How is Tony?" Ziva asked. "Any change?"

"He's weaker, but still hanging on," Gibbs informed them. It wasn't the news he wanted to share, but it was all he had.

"Has he agreed to use the respirator yet?" Abby sat on the edge of Gibbs' bed and twisted the blanket.

"Not yet. I'm hoping he changes his mind soon."

Ducky sighed. "I keep saying that you're both too stubborn for your own damn good!"

"Amen to that," Jackson added.

"He is afraid, yes?" Ziva remarked.

The statement bothered McGee. "Wouldn't you be? What if they hook him to that machine and he dies anyway? What if he never wakes up? I'd be scared shitless." It was a rather large outburst by McGee standards.

Ziva knew she had been misinterpreted. "I have never been in his position, and yes, I too would be afraid, McGee. I did not mean to sound critical."

"Sorry, Ziva," he said. "I shouldn't have over-reacted."

"It is ok. We are all on pencils and pens," she replied.

"Pins and needles," Gibbs corrected. "Pins and needles."

NCISNCISNCIS

The night continued in the same pattern. Every two hours Gibbs would make the journey to Tony's room, talking to him if Tony was awake or sitting quietly if he was sleeping, and always eliciting the promise that the young man would wait for him to return. Breaking the time into smaller chunks seemed to help Tony; the idea of breathing for two more hours seemed like a doable goal.

"Do you want some water?" Gibbs asked during a middle of the night visit, noticing the younger man glancing at the table by the bed for the second time.

Tony nodded in reply. Gibbs was seated too far away to comfortably reach out and pour the drink, so he shoved himself up and shuffled to the cart. The hospital gown he was wearing fell open, revealing his pale butt cheeks.

The mask on Tony's face immediately fogged up. He coughed violently; Gibbs turned to look at him. Marjorie ran over, taking the cup from Gibbs' hand and pulling off Tony's mask. She forced him to sip until the choking subsided.

"What is going on?" she asked.

Tony smiled weakly. "Ass," he said. Marjorie stared at him like he had completely lost his mind.

Gibbs landed heavily back in the wheelchair, a grin on his face. "He was laughing at my ass hanging out in the wind. Weren't you DiNozzo?"

Tony managed another small smile. "Blinded me…. for a second."

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said affectionately and laughed out loud at his senior field agent.

By 8:00 am no one was laughing. Tony hadn't attempted to speak for hours. He barely moved.

When Gibbs leaned in to get his promise that Tony would wait for him, DiNozzo shook his head. "Can't, boss." Two hours seemed like a lifetime away. He knew he wouldn't make it again. Every single breath required intense concentration.

"Tony…" Gibbs began.

"I'll do….the vent," DiNozzo interrupted. He couldn't stand the thought of making Gibbs watch him die like this. At least if he went on the respirator the older man would know he had done all he could. Gibbs had enough guilt over Shannon and Kelly, Tony wouldn't add to his burden.

Gibbs nodded. "We'll take care of you, Tony. Try not to worry." He glanced at Marjorie and whispered, Yes. She disappeared from the room to make arrangements.

"Team…here?" DiNozzo asked.

"Yeah, they're in the waiting room. Do you want to see them?"

Tony nodded.

NCISNCISNCIS

Abby smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Ziva ran her fingers through his hair. Ducky whispered something in his ear. McGee squeezed his wrist. Jackson chucked him on the chin.

An anesthesiologist injected something into the IV line. "It'll just take a few minutes, Tony."

Dr. Warren added. "You won't remember any of this." The physician placed a comforting hand on his patient's arm as he noticed the young man's heart rate increasing.

"We'll be waiting for you," Abby called out. They were all standing around the bed. He knew they would be waiting for him. And if he didn't make it back, then whatever he found on the other side, he would wait for them. He was still scared, but he at least had to try. He blinked rapidly; it was too late to stop the drugs they had given him, too late to stop any of it. He could feel the medication hitting his veins, pulling him under. Someone stroked his forehead; he tilted his eyes up to see Gibbs hovering above him. "Don't worry, Tony. I'll have your six."

It was the last image his mind recorded, and then he was gone.

NCISNCISNCIS

He blinked again. His eyes watered and he swallowed convulsively; it felt as if he had been eating fire. Figures swirled and moved; he tried hard to get them to stay in one place. Marjorie leaned over him. "Do you want some ice?" she asked.

Tony swallowed again. Damn, it hurt. "Yes," he croaked. She placed a small cup at his lips and he sucked on the cold chips gratefully.

He pulled weakly at the blanket that had fallen down around his waist. "Here," she said, and tugged it back up to his chest, tucking it around his arms. "Better?"

"Uh huh." He rolled his head to follow her movements; noticed the chest tube and drainage bulb were gone. That had to be good.

"How long?" he asked groggily.

"Five days."

Wow, that long, he thought.

"We took the vent out yesterday and you woke up a few times, but this is the first time you've really talked to me," she explained.

Dr. Warren was right; Tony didn't remember any of it.

"It was touch and go for a while, but you're much better now."

He glanced down at himself: most of the monitors and catheters were still in place, so he didn't share her confidence. There was even an additional tube stuck up his nose and, if he guessed right, trailing down his throat. If this was good, things must have gotten pretty bad.

She moved the blanket to adjust something wrapped around his legs.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Pneumatic compression stockings." She plugged them into the bed; every few seconds they squeezed and released. "You've been in bed for a long time; it helps with circulation and to prevent blood clots."

It felt like sharing the bed with a couple of boa constrictors. "It's annoying."

She smiled. "Be glad you're here to get annoyed."

The door to the room burst open; for a moment he thought they were being attacked. Then he realized it was just Abby. Followed by McGee. And Ziva. Then Ducky and Jimmy Palmer. Vance squeezed in. Jackson. Finally, Gibbs slowly walked in, dressed in street clothes with a coffee cup in his hand. There was nowhere left to stand.

"We've been invaded," Tony said thickly and smiled.

Marjorie clucked. "You know you are not all allowed in here at once."

"But Marj," Abby begged. "We got a call that Tony was really awake and talking. Let us see for ourselves. Just a couple of minutes. Please?" She walked next to the nurse and put her hands under her chin as if praying.

Marjorie laughed. "Five minutes. And if you get caught, I was never here." The nurse left them alone.

"How's it feel to be back?" Gibbs asked. He had moved to the front of the room next to the bed.

"I can't remember being gone. So good, I guess," Tony replied, still a little shaky. He recalled the near panic he had felt when being put under, and he was just very glad to be awake.

Knowing glances passed between those in the room, silently sharing the stress of the illness that Tony would never know. The first few days had been the worst, as his body continued to decline while he waged battle against an invisible enemy; unclear from hour to hour who was gaining ground. Ultimately, after the third day, DiNozzo started to pull ahead, but until that point it was uncertain who the winner would be. For Gibbs it had nearly been unbearable, facing the possibility that what Tony feared most could happen; that he could die while unconscious, never getting to say goodbye. Gibbs didn't think he could live with the remorse, so he had talked to the younger man, pushed him, driven him like a drill sergeant even though he wasn't even sure if DiNozzo could hear him. And somehow it had worked. Given little chance to pull through, somehow Tony had lived.

Gibbs grinned. DiNozzo always had a way of beating the odds.

"Oookay," Tony said, picking up on the strange undercurrent between his friends. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving. Any chance somebody could get me a pizza?"

Marjorie smiled up from her paperwork at the nurse's station as laughter burst from the room and floated up and down the hall.

NCISNCISNCIS

Abby and Jackson, for all intents and purposes, moved in with Gibbs for several weeks while he and Tony recuperated. Ziva cooked and McGee filled in the gaps, driving Tony to doctor's appointments and physical therapy. Tony was monitored closely, not even allowed to tie his own shoelaces. Not that he could've tied his own shoelaces with one arm, anyway.

McGee flipped open the pizza box that sat on Gibbs' coffee table. One piece left. He looked over at Tony, wondering if he would want it. DiNozzo saw the look and considered whether to eat the last slice. It was the first pizza he had been allowed following weeks of a soft diet, a bland diet, and basically no appetite anyway.

He had thoroughly and completely gorged himself.

"You take it McSkinny. I think you look more anorexic than I do."

"Not funny, Tony." McGee shut the lid without taking the slice. Tony might want it later. It was nice to see him finally eating something. It was actually nice to have Tony harassing him; after weeks of a frail and quiet Tony, this was a version he understood.

"So, how does it feel to have survived another brush with death?" McGee asked.

Tony assessed whether McGee was making fun of him; he decided there was a serious note to the question.

"I don't know, Tim, I slept through most of it." He paused. "I'm just glad the boss is back. Surviving his brush with death was the worst part of it all."

McGee coughed nervously. "Um, Tony, I just wanted to let you know, while Gibbs was gone….you did a good job as Lead Agent. I never got around to telling you that."

Tony smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Tim. I know you wouldn't say that if you didn't mean it." The field agent paused. "I think we're having a Hallmark moment here."

McGee shook his head. The old Tony was firmly in place; nothing was to be taken too seriously. The younger man noticed DiNozzo shift again for the third time in the last five minutes.

"You have to go to the bathroom, don't you?"

Tony glanced up sheepishly. "Maybe," he replied.

McGee sat down on the couch next to the senior field agent. "I told you not to drink all that soda."

"I was thirsty!" Tony protested.

"Come on, put your arm around my shoulder."

As Tony positioned himself to be helped off the couch, he paused. "I just want to formally state that I really, really hate this."

"You could still be peeing with a catheter," McGee countered, pulling his friend up.

"Good point, McGoo," Tony stopped complaining as they shuffled down the hall.

NCISNCISNCIS

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tony was cleared to return to desk duty. Even though it was his first day back, the morning's activity surprised him. Gibbs was already wearing a suit, and he was helping Tony put on a tie. DiNozzo made a face as Gibbs' tugged at the knot. Again.

"Dammit," the ex-marine said, pulling the fabric loose and starting over for the third time.

"It's ok, boss; it doesn't have to be perfect." Tony's comment was met with one of Gibbs' unreadable stares. Tony decided to change the subject. "Hey, do you remember the Smith boy who lived down the street from you as a kid? Jackson told me a really interesting story about how he locked you in the girl's bathroom at his Dad's gas-station. Is it true you were in there until Sally Hammond pulled down her….."

The head slap stung nicely. "Don't listen to everything Jack tells you," Gibbs responded with a hint of a smile. Tony grinned. "I guess this isn't the best time to ask if I get to keep the Challenger?" He ducked his head just in case.

"No, DiNozzo, you don't get to keep the car. Actually, you owe me an oil change. You put more miles on that vehicle in two months than it's seen in forty years," he groused. Finally satisfied with the knot in the tie, he helped Tony slip into a freshly pressed suit jacket, letting the left arm drape over the blue sling. He smoothed down Tony's shirt collar. "You look good," the silver-haired man commented.

This is getting extremely weird. Tony felt like he was being prepped for his first day at kindergarten."So explain to me again what's going on today? Why do we need to get all dressed up to go to the office?" The Lead Agent had gone over it the night before, but it didn't all add up for Tony.

"The Undersecretary wants to meet us, thank us for what we've done. Vance wants everyone to make a good impression," he said.

Tony gave the older man a once over. If he didn't know better, he would've sworn the suit Gibbs was wearing was new. The man never bought new clothes. Something about all this was a bit strange. Hinky, even

"Whatever you say, boss."

They headed for the door; Gibbs grabbed his wallet off the entry table and stuffed it in his pocket. Tony saw it and smiled.

Gibbs caught his gaze, but didn't comment. He knew Tony remembered.

"Come on, DiNozzo. You don't want to be late your first day back. I hear your boss can be a real bastard."

"Most people think he's a total son-of-a bitch." Tony looked down. "But I know better," he added.

Gibbs just smiled and headed for the car.

NCISNCISNCIS

Tony's confusion increased exponentially with each passing minute. Gibbs had led him to the large conference room; it was filled with people and a podium had been placed up front. Dozens of people were crowded in; Abby and Ziva were even wearing dresses. He noticed Jackson was seated down the row next to Fornell.

Tony leaned over to McGee. "Tell me what is going on right now or the next time I use super-glue I'll stick your ass to your chair. Naked."

McGee shook his head. "Not a chance, Tony."

The Director walked up to the podium and cleared his throat.

"Occasionally one of our agents goes above and beyond in the line of duty and we find it appropriate to honor that individual for his efforts. As all of you know, that is why we are gathered here today."

Gibbs was standing to the side of the podium next to the Undersecretary of the Navy. They're giving him another medal, Tony realized. The only strange thing is that he showed up to get it.

"This person is part of a team that has a long history of exemplary performance. I would like to acknowledge those team members, since without them it would be impossible for NCIS to have accomplished all they have in recent weeks.

James Palmer. Jimmy grinned and waved.

Dr. Donald Mallard. Ducky smiled appreciatively.

Ms. Abigail Sciuto. Abby gave a small curtsy.

Special Agent Ziva David. Ziva nodded.

Special Agent Timothy McGee. Tim tilted his head.

And now I'd like to turn the podium over to the Lead Agent for the Major Crimes Response Team, Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Someone had obviously forgotten to add Tony's name to the list. Maybe it was because he had been out sick for so long. It didn't really matter to him, though, since at least they were all back together again…..

Gibbs started to speak, cutting into his rationale of why he had been excluded.

"When I was asked to present this award for outstanding service in the line of duty, I gladly accepted. As all of you know, I'm a man of few words, so I'll keep this short. Over the nearly ten years I have had the good fortune to work with this young man, I hope he would tell you I've taught him a few things, maybe impressed a couple of rules on him." There was a ripple of laughter throughout the room.

Tony felt himself growing hot. This was not happening.

"But I have to share with you that he has taught me a great many things, too. And those of you who know me realize that isn't easy to do." More laughter. "He is an incredible investigator, an outstanding man, and a loyal friend. Without him, not only would this latest situation have never been resolved, but I wouldn't be standing here today. He has saved my life more than once, in more ways than one. It is with great pride that I present this award to Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

Tony was not only in shock, but in suspended animation. He could not move. Ziva nudged him, urging him forward with her eyes. He finally got his feet to propel him toward the podium. At the front of the room, Gibbs shook his hand, and then pulled him into a bearish hug. In front of everyone. Vance handed him the small box containing the medal. He turned and faced the room, for the first time noticing the thunderous applause. He tried to take in the moment so he could remember it later, but it was all more than he could ever imagine.

For once, he found himself not knowing what to say. More than a little uncomfortable and embarrassed, he smiled and merely said, "Thank you." Gibbs' warm hand on his back was almost as good as any medal they could give him.

After a lot of private congratulations and milling around, he found himself seated at his desk. Tony opened the drawer, unlocking the box in the bottom that contained all of Gibbs' medals.

"Hey, Tony, come on. We're all going to that Italian place down the street to celebrate," Abby called out.

"Be right there," he answered. From the corner of his eye, he could see Gibbs get up from his own desk and walk across the floor. The older man paused in front of Tony.

"You ready?" he asked softly.

"Almost," DiNozzo replied, his fingers brushing along the silver and bronze.

Gibbs smiled knowingly. "You deserve that. Don't ever tell yourself otherwise."

Tony looked up. How does he always know what I'm thinking? "Thanks, boss," he said quietly. "For everything." The Lead Agent reached out and patted Tony on the back of the head, then moved over to join the others.

Tony smiled to himself. If Gibbs thought he deserved this, maybe he did. The boss would never lie to him. Carefully, Tony placed his medal alongside Gibbs', locked the box, and closed the drawer. He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, a light-heartedness spreading through him for the first time in months. "Wait on me," he yelled, running toward the elevator, a huge grin spreading across his face.

Everything was exactly where it belonged.