Summary: Gibbs and McGee find themselves spending some unexpected time in Gibbs' basement.

A/N: The world has changed drastically since I last posted anything, for all of us, and for me personally. In January, I ended up in the hospital and a nursing home for a month. I have been recovering at home since then and am now wheelchair bound at least for the time being. Once all the craziness is over, I hope to continue physical therapy. I am pretty much isolated anyway, so social distancing is no problem. I hope you are all taking good care of yourselves. This story just jumped up and demanded to be written. I hope you enjoy it.

Gibbs' Basement

Present

"You doin' okay, Kid?"

McGee grimaced. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

Gibbs chuckled. "Because you haven't been one for a long time. But you didn't answer my question. How ya doin'?"

"I'd be a lot better off without the extra ventilation."

Gibbs snorted. "Well, you're not dyin' if you still have a sense of humor."

Tim nodded slightly. "No, probably not. Just hurts like hell."

"I patched you up best I could. Most of the bleeding's stopped."

Tim was quiet after that. They both knew what Gibbs wasn't saying. Tim had been hit three times, and Gibbs had only been able to get one bullet out. The others were in too deep for him to even attempt to remove them. And if they didn't find a way out soon, the remains of Gibb's basement was going to wind up being Special Agent Timothy McGee's tomb.

Finally, Tim thought of something he'd always wanted to know. "Boss, you've never told anyone. How do you get the boats out of here when you're done with them?"

"I did too tell somebody at one point, a long time ago. I don't remember who it was, but I told 'em. It's simple. It's just like a ship in a bottle. You wanna get the ship out, you just break the bottle." * Gibbs shifted Tim's head gently in his lap and smiled down at him. "Principle's exactly the same."

Tim was confused. "Wait, what? Break the bottle? But your boat's not in a bottle. It's in a room. Made of…of bricks and wood." He frowned.

Gibbs grinned. "That's right."

Tim groaned suddenly and Gibbs moved the sweatshirt he had tied around Tim's thigh. He swore softly. "Dammit. You're bleeding again."

Tim said nothing, but his face paled, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was good at masking pain, but this was almost too much.

Gibbs hadn't wanted to use a tourniquet on McGee's leg, but he realized now he had no choice. The damage to his leg might be irreparable, but it was better that they chance Tim losing his leg rather than losing his life. Gibbs took off his own belt and tightened it around Tim's upper thigh. He wasn't surprised that Tim made little noise beyond grunting when he latched it tight. Partially, Tim was exhausted, and partially, Gibbs was sure shock had sent him beyond his own pain threshold, the point where pain becomes almost secondary.

Gibbs moved around and pulled Tim back into his lap. McGee's eyes were closed but slid open at the change in position.

"Oh, good, you're still with me. That too tight? Can you still feel your toes?"

Tim considered the question for a while. "Hmmm…. Mostly my leg just hurts. Not sure if I can feel much else. But nothing is all that numb if that means anything."

Gibbs huffed in frustration. "Hell, I dunno if that's good or bad. But either way, we

gotta get outta here."

Tim nodded. "No argument here. Are you okay, Boss? I know one of 'em clipped you at least once."

"Eh, just a graze. I'm fine." He didn't even give the bloody smear at the top of his left shoulder a second glance. It was minor and barely bothered him. If it acted up, he'd slap a piece of duct tape on it. Standard combat field procedure.

McGee rolled his eyes and knew better than to ask any more about it. If things went south for his boss, he'd take care of him, just as he always had in the past. Just as his boss was doing for him now.

Gibbs handed Tim a water bottle and helped him drink a few sips. He then looked at him. "Look, Kid. Why don't you rest a while. I need to figure a way out of here. I'll wake you up in a few hours and we'll get going."

Tim smiled sadly and shut his eyes. Gibbs hadn't fooled him. He knew there really wasn't much his boss could do, but he appreciated the pep talk anyway. He let himself drift off, not knowing if he'd even wake up…

Gibbs stared at his youngest agent as he fell asleep and unaccustomed emotion welled up inside him. It was true Tim wasn't a kid anymore. Hadn't been for years. And yet, there was something about him that made folks tend to treat him like a kid. They assumed he was soft and innocent… that he couldn't take care of himself… that he was the least effective member of the team. Anyone assuming those things would be dead wrong.

Gibbs had watched Tim grow and change. He wasn't sure exactly the moment it had happened, but he knew. If Tony ever decided to leave for any reason, Tim was ready. Gibbs would stake his life on it.

Gibbs leaned his head back against a support beam and sighed. He realized, even if Tim hadn't that it wasn't likely that they were going to find their way out of the caved-in basement on their own. What he didn't know was if Tim realized why they weren't going anywhere. Now that Tim was asleep, he glowered at his latest boat. The boat had acted as a roof to keep the falling bricks from crushing them. That was the good news. The bad news… it had tipped sideways and effectively cut off any possible escape route, since any movement of the boat would mean bringing a cascade of bricks and debris directly down upon Tim and himself.

Fortunately, they were in the corner where Gibbs stored his C-Rations and water. Something had to go right for them. Who the hell would have expected a shoot-out and a maniac driver caving in your house, right?

Gibbs thought back to the previous night, when this whole nightmare had started…

~NCIS~

16 Hours Earlier

Gibbs was in his basement working on his latest boat. He had finished her hull and was sanding her down. He would soon be ready to move on to her cabin, and then to her deck, but that was all in the future, and he was in no hurry. He enjoyed the slow, steady motions of sanding the boat by hand. It relaxed him and gave him time to think. He knew it was nearly midnight, and he should be getting to bed, but he wanted to get just a bit more done.

He smiled when he heard the soft knock on his front door. There was only one member of his team who ever knocked, let alone waited for an invitation. Said member knew Gibbs kept an open-door policy, but he was shy, and even after all these years, he always waited for an invitation. Gibbs chuckled as he headed upstairs. Philosophically, he figured it was pretty much time for a break anyway. Sure enough, Tim McGee stood on his porch, a sheepish grin on his face.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Well, come on in." He let the younger agent in and was about to close the door when the sound of several very loud car and truck engines and gunfire erupted on the street behind his. Both men went into instant "agent" mode and ran around the back of the house. As surreal as it seemed, they nearly ran right into the middle of a running gang battle. In the chaos, two gangs of men were fighting and firing guns at each other.

Realizing there wasn't much they could do alone, they started to head for the back door leading down into the basement to call for help when one of the men spotted them and yelled at one of the drivers. He climbed into his monster truck and drove it as fast as he could at the back of Gibbs' house. Meanwhile, the rest of the men opened up on Gibbs and McGee, hitting McGee with several slugs and winging Gibbs in the shoulder when he grabbed Tim and pulled him inside the door and slammed it.

It was then that Bright Spot in the monster truck hit the back of the house and caved in the ceiling of the basement. There was a bit more scattered gunfire, and the idiots took off, leaving the back of Gibbs' house in shambles.

Normally, cops would have been all over the place within a few minutes of the gunshots, but unfortunately, his neighbors on one side back here were on vacation, and the house on the other side was empty. It had been for sale for quite a while. His back yard faced an empty field. It wasn't the first time there had been shots fired around his house, and apparently, his more distant neighbors had assumed he would handle it… because no one had called it in… possibly figuring someone else would do it. Or, more likely, nobody wanted to get involved.

~NCIS~

NCIS HQ

Bullpen

Present

Ziva frowned. "Tony, you know it's not like McGee to be late. Not without calling. Even if he was stuck in traffic, he would call. And have you ever heard of Gibbs being late, ever?"

Tony slowly shook his head. "No. On that one you've got me. Probie, maybe, but not Gibbs."

"And neither one of them are answering their cell phones! There is something wrong."

Tony nodded. "Okay, yeah. I agree. But what could have taken them both out at the same time?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I don't know, but I do know standing here is not going to help them!"

Tony grimaced and put in a quick call to Director Vance who agreed they needed to go find their missing agents.

They stopped by Tim's apartment first, and discovered it was locked up tight, and his car was gone. They decided to head over to Gibbs' place. It wouldn't be the first time Tim had crashed there after having some problem or other. Maybe the kid was sick or something. Tony smirked at the thought. It wouldn't be the first time Gibbs had played Papa to one of his "kids," either, him included.

~NCIS~

Gibbs' Basement

Present

Gibbs was exhausted. He had dozed off and on, but he didn't dare let himself really sleep. He had checked McGee's wounds and knew Tim was in bad shape; there just wasn't anything more he could do about it right now. He tore another strip off his tee-shirt and poured some bottled water over it. He wiped Tim's face with it. He was sweating and feverish, both of which were very bad signs. "Dammit, Kid, don't you die on me. I will never forgive you if you do."

Glassy green eyes cracked open and McGee smirked. "Geez, Boss, people die all the time, what makes me so special?"

Gibbs scowled for a moment and then realized he was being had. "Shut up, McGee."

Tim smiled but quickly grimaced when he realized his lips were cracked and sore from dehydration. Gibbs noticed and helped him drink more water, and Tim sighed in satisfaction. "Thanks, Boss. That helped."

Tim suddenly shifted. "Boss, help me sit up."

"What, why?"

"Because my back hurts laying like this. Help me sit up some."

"It's gonna hurt like hell."

McGee shot him a withering look. "No kidding."

Gibbs shifted from behind McGee and helped prop him into a sitting position, leaning him back against the support beam. Tim bit the inside of his lip, trying to hide the pain, though he knew it was a useless effort. He closed his eyes and rested for a few minutes, rousing only when Gibbs pass him a bottle of water, and a protein bar from his stash of MREs.

"Eat that. You'll feel better."

Tim nodded, though he grimaced at the texture of the bar. "Which war are these from, Boss, World War One?"

"Nope," Gibbs grinned, munching contentedly. "Civil War."

Tim nearly choked on the swig of water he had just taken. He wasn't sure his boss was kidding. And by the twinkle in Gibbs' eye, maybe he wasn't…

That was when Tim got a good look at himself. His slacks were torn up and filthy, as was his shirt. That was pretty much to be expected. The streaks of red on his thigh, arm and torso were disturbing, but again, not unexpected. What did bother him were the flashes of dull silver that shown near the red. He frowned, wondering what in the world the silver could possibly be about. He lifted the edge of what was left of his shirt, and his eyes grew wide with realization and dread.

"Boss, you didn't!"

Genuinely confused, Gibbs stared at him. "What?"

"Duct tape? You used duct tape to patch me up?"

"Well, yeah, that and my tee-shirt. Marine combat dressing."

Tim flinched and moaned.

Gibbs scowled. "Hey, are you okay?"

"No! Boss, you know how much that's gonna hurt coming off?"

Gibbs looked perplexed. "Never thought about it, actually. But it kept you from bleeding to death. That's the point."

Reluctantly Tim nodded. "Yeah, I can't argue with that."

He looked up and realized they were underneath the boat. "Hey, it looks like your boat saved our lives."

Gibbs chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so."

Suddenly, Tim groaned, and he turned very pale. "Boss, I don't feel so good."

It was a good thing Gibbs was seated right next to Tim, so he was able to catch him when he passed out.

~NCIS~

Gibbs' Street

Present

Tony and Ziva pulled up in front of Gibbs' house and noticed several things immediately. Both Gibbs' truck and Tim's car were in the driveway. The lights were on in the living room. And there was something very wrong with the back of Gibbs' house.

Carefully, they went to the front of the house and Ziva frowned at Tony when they realized the front door was partially open. They drew their guns silently and Tony signaled Ziva to search right while he headed upstairs. However as he headed towards the back of the house he realized the cant of the floor was all wrong. There was a distinct downward tilt. He detoured towards the basement door and started to pull it open. The door was jammed tight. There was no way Tony was going to get it open without using major force. And something told him major force was not going to be a good idea right now.

He called for Ziva and they ran back outside and around to the back and slid to a halt at a sight neither had ever expected to see. The guest bedroom, which sat directly over the basement was completely caved in. The back wall looked as if a tractor had pushed into the room and utterly destroyed it. To make matters worse, there were bullet holes and shell casings all over the place. For a moment the two agents simply stood and gaped in shock.

After a few seconds, they snapped out of it and moved into the roles of the agents they were. Tony was the first to spot blood in the grass, at the same time Ziva began investigating the drag marks near where the door used to be. It took them no time at all to figure out what had happened, though they had no idea why it had happened. At the moment, why didn't matter in the slightest. One or both of their friends were trapped inside a caved-in house and they were injured.

Tony called Director Vance for back up and extra help, and then went to the edge of the mess of bricks and wood. "Boss, McGee, you down there?"

Gibbs had never been so glad to hear his Senior Agent's voice in his life.

~NCIS~

It was a matter of an hour before the fire department had rescue equipment and rescuers all over the street in front of the caved in basement. Working carefully, they managed to remove the bricks and wood covering the two agents. For the first time that anyone could remember, one of Gibbs' boats actually sat outside his basement, as one of the cranes carefully lifted the hull out of the basement and placed it delicately on the lawn. Gibbs could be heard threatening the operator if he hurt the boat any more than it already had been.

Once the debris had been cleared it was a fairly simple matter of sending the paramedics down to assess the two men and then packaging them for removal to the hospital. Gibbs was in fair condition, dehydrated with a graze to the shoulder that would be treated at the hospital. McGee on the other hand, was in very serious condition, and they wasted no time getting him to the hospital. He needed surgery if he was to keep his leg, and the other wounds were nearly as bad. One of the paramedics congratulated Gibbs on his combat medicine and told him that he was sure that McGee would not have made it this far if he hadn't done what he did.

Gibbs, typically, ignored every word he said. If McGee died, nothing he did would have mattered.

~NCIS~

G W Hospital

Emergency Room

Present

The ambulance made the trip to George Washington Hospital in record time. Gibbs had refused to lie on the gurney as requested, choosing instead to sit next to Tim. He managed to stay out of the paramedic's way by sitting in the jump seat towards the back of the bus.

He kept his mouth shut and listened as the paramedic worked on Tim, who faded in and out of consciousness all the way to the hospital. He seemed more concerned with the duct tape than anything, so Gibbs was pretty sure he was going to be alright. His only real worry at this point was Tim's leg. As long as he got full use of his leg back, they'd be fine.

Oh, and as long as they caught the yay-hoos who wrecked his house…

~NCIS~

HQ Bullpen

Two Months Later

The elevator doors opened, and an impromptu cheer went up. Tim was embarrassed as he made his way off. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony. "I told you I didn't want any fuss when I came back. Who'd you tell it was my first day back on desk duty?"

"Ah, you know how the grapevine is, Probie. Everybody's missed you." Tony deftly maneuvered Tim's wheelchair off the elevator and over to his desk. "Now, you're not gonna be in this thing all that long, so don't get used to the VIP service. I hear the boss has a bunch of stuff waiting for you, so you better get cracking!" He paused and lowered his voice. "And hey, Tim, welcome back. I've missed you, too!" He grinned and headed to his own desk and promptly buried himself in files.

Ziva smiled at him, came over and hugged him. "I am glad to see you where you belong, McGee."

Tim grimaced. "Well, not quite where I belong. Not out in the field."

"But that will come in time."

"I know. But it won't be for such a long time. Maybe a year, Ziva!"

Ziva placed her hand firmly on Tim's shoulder. "But it will come. If you had lost your leg you would not even be an agent now. You must cling to that."

Tim looked into Ziva's eyes for a long moment. "You're right. Gibbs did give me that."

Just then Gibbs strode into the Bullpen. "Gibbs is gonna give you two a kick in the pants if you don't get back to work. Welcome back, McGee. Got some files there for you to go through. Need a report by tonight."

Tim grinned. "On it, Boss!"

~The End~

A/N: * This is true. Gibbs told someone this in an episode when they were talking about his ship in a bottle and they asked him how he got his boats out. He actually answered the boat question years ago, but no one caught on. I believe he takes out one of his walls and then puts it back. Possibly a hidden wall.