Here's the last chapter, my dear readers. Thank you for your reviews and thank you for taking the time to read. Hopefully I'll see you soon again.
As always I'm grateful to my beta bethellie.

Chapter 5

After finishing off that terrible day, doing terrible things, like calling an ambulance and then Ducky, writing my report about a partner being shot and soothing Abby again, I found myself driving on autopilot to Bethesda. It was well after visiting hours, but I had to see him.

No family, no relatives were there. The sad fact that nobody would ever be there for him was something that I would learn well over the years to come.

Silently opening the door to the appointed room in the ICU, I became aware of the outlines of a man sitting in the dim light. I didn't recognize him at first and got a bit of a surprise when I realized that it was Gibbs. He hadn't mentioned anything about seeing Tony in the hospital. Slumping in the chair beside the bed he simply stared at his senior agent.

I stood quietly and couldn't make myself do anything save to study him for a while; his haunted features, his crumpled clothes. I had thought he'd gone home when he was suddenly missing from the office after reporting to Morrow. Obviously not.

He twitched slightly when I knocked on the doorframe. It was the one time I would ever see Gibbs startled.

"Hey", I whispered, not wanting to disturb the sleeping form in the bed.

"Hey", he grunted and scrubbed a hand across his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same. Visiting hours are over." He just gave me a look and I swallowed. "I couldn't sleep before seeing that he was alright, so I threatened my way in. Being a former employee of the Secret Service has its advantages."

He smiled crookedly at this.

"How is he?" I tried not to sound worried as I eyed my fallen partner. The bandage covering his shoulder was looking too stark white to be real, and the black and blue bruise forming on his otherwise pale forehead had a similarly surreal appearance.

Gibbs frowned a bit, not taking his eyes off Tony. "Good as can be expected considering the blood loss and concussion. Uneasy. Wakes up too often." He flashed me an exhausted smile. "Gives the nurses headaches."

"Really? Well, trust DiNozzo to give women grief."

We both smirked at this, some of my tension slipping away with the comment. Tony slept on, lost in his painkiller-induced daze, oblivious to our having fun at his expense. His smooth features and tousled hair made him look so very young. I suppose he was, back then.

His breathing was soft and even, far from what he had sounded like before when we rushed to his side after the shooting. He had very quickly lost consciousness, but not before Gibbs had pried the gun from his hand and told him he'd done good.

Crossing my arms I went to his side, just to watch him sleep. His lashes were casting long shadows on his flushed cheeks and I suddenly wanted to touch him. Just to make sure he was really alive. I didn't.

I stayed silent for a while, hugging myself tighter, thinking of all the things I wanted to know. Wondering how I could ever ask.

"He doesn't have anybody", Gibbs started quietly, and in a way that single statement answered all of my questions. I held my breath as he continued, voice hoarse. "I try to be there. Try to stop him from doing these stupid, reckless things he does to show the world that he's alive. Try to tell him he doesn't have to. That I see him anyway."

As he looked up at me I caught a glimpse of a man so different from the steely-eyed marine I met everyday, that I almost shunned. That was the man Tony was trying to guard and protect, actually inflicting more damage in his eagerness to do so.

That man - the stranger - sighed ruefully and stated more to himself than anyone;

"He doesn't listen very well."

I was struck by the insight then that neither of these two men - boys - could see what the other was trying to do. They watched over each other and didn't even know it. Had the situation not been as it was I might have laughed at their foolishness.

He doesn't listen very well.

I sighed deeply, choosing my words carefully.

"No, I guess he doesn't."

Neither of you do.

The End