DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything related to NCIS. That is all.

A/N: Alrighty then, I've done this before for Danny Williams on Hawaii 5-0 Reboot fandom & I figured why not give it a go for Tim McGee! Although the headings of the stories may be the same as my 5-0 series for some chapters, they will not be the same story with just a change of character name! After all they are two very different characters. These will not come thick and fast but as I have time and the muse allows I will post! For now I hope you enjoy the first instalment!

A is for Accident

Special Agent Tim McGee was not having a good morning. It was a Monday following a rare uninterrupted weekend. No work, no colleagues dropping by, just peace and quiet. Of course Monday's tended to be the hardest day of the week anyway, just by virtue of the fact they were the start of another working week.

The day had started like most other work days. His alarm went off and he got out of bed, threw on some running clothes and put a leash on his dog, Jethro, so that they could go for their morning run to the park. Once back at his apartment he made sure Jethro had food and water before getting in the shower then getting dressed. It was a perfectly normal morning.

That was until Tim decided he had time to cut up some fruit to have for breakfast. At weekends he would indulge in the sugary heaven that was dinosaur cereal but during the week he would have toast or fruit. He had lost a lot of weight and was proud of his achievement so he had no intention of slipping back into bad habits.

Tim grabbed the melon that was sitting in his fridge and pulled out a sharp knife so that he could cut it, remove the seeds and then slice it. It was something he did regularly and he wasn't really paying full attention, letting his mind wander. Of course had he been paying attention he might have noticed Jethro enter the kitchen, as it was he didn't, so when the dog nudged him to try to get his attention it startled Tim and the knife slid away from the melon and into his right palm, but not just slicing it; the knife embedded in the centre of his palm.

"Shit!" A rare curse fell from Tim's lips followed quickly by the sudden overwhelming urge to vomit. It was an urge he couldn't prevent as he dashed to the kitchen sink and threw up the meagre contents of his stomach, glad that he hadn't had a chance to have breakfast yet. Propping himself up against the counter with his left hand he inspected the damage.

The knife hadn't gone all the way through his hand but he knew better than to pull it out. Opening a drawer next to the sink he pulled out a clean towel and carefully wrapped it around the knife, careful not to dislodge it but trying to keep it tight enough to stop the bleeding. He also realised this was going to mean a visit to the hospital because there was no way to get the knife out without the help of a medical professional.

Groaning Tim now had to decide the best way to get to the hospital. Driving was out, but he could get a cab, though he wasn't sure that a cabbie would appreciate having a man dripping blood in his vehicle. It didn't seem like enough of an emergency to call for an ambulance so the only other option was to call one of his team…

Tim glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall; he wasn't sure how but the time since starting to cut up the fruit and now seemed to have flown by because he was due to leave for work. Clearly he had zoned out at some point. That was bad.

"Alright Tim," he spoke aloud into the silence of the apartment, startling both himself and Jethro but he found the noise a little comforting, like somehow he wasn't alone. "First of all you need to call Gibbs, you're going to be late no matter what and that is not good. Now where did I leave my cell?" Tim walked out of the kitchen into the living area and saw his cell on the table, bending to pick it up he was overcome by a wave of dizziness and before he could do anything to prevent it he was sprawled on the floor and unconscious. Jethro whined and nudged at his master to no avail, left with nothing to do but protect him the dog lay down by his side, his head resting on Tim's leg.

-NCIS-

"Where the hell is McGee?" growled Gibbs as he entered the bull pen and realised one of his agents was missing.

"Dunno Boss," replied Tony.

"It is not like McGee to be late," Ziva stated, concerned that it was twenty minutes passed the start of their work day and the man in question wasn't at his desk and hadn't called in.

"Call him," Gibbs ordered.

Tony picked up his desk phone and dialled Tim's cell, it rang several times before going to voicemail, "Hey McTardy, you're breaking rule three! Call me as soon as you get this message," Tony hung up and shrugged.

"Ziva, check with Abby and see if she's heard from him."

Nodding the Israeli woman picked up her phone and made the call to the lab, "Abby, have you spoken to McGee this morning?"

"Hi Ziva, no, not yet but I could use his help so can you send him down?"

"He is not here yet Abby, but as soon as he arrives…" Ziva didn't get to finish her sentence.

"What do you mean he's not here? That would mean he's late, Timmy's never late! Oh my god, what if something has happened to him? He could have slipped in the shower or had an accident on the way to work…"

"Abby…"

"Or someone could have kidnapped him…"

"Abby…"

"Maybe he's sick and can't get to the phone…"

"ABBY!"

"What? There's no need to yell!"

Ziva took a deep breath; "I am sure McGee is fine, I have to go." she hung up and turned to Gibbs and Tony, "She has not spoken to him."

"Yeah, kind of figured that out," Tony rolled his eyes. He hadn't needed to be even standing near Ziva's desk to hear Abby's excitable stream of words.

"Should we get Abby to track his phone?" suggested Ziva, wishing she had thought of it before hanging up on the Goth, though asking her to do it would probably have sent the woman into another fit of verbal hysteria.

Gibbs shook his head and picked up his cell, pressing the speed dial for his youngest. He'd give McGee one more chance to pick up and then he'd go down to Abby's lab and have her track his cell. It would be better if it came from him in person.

-NCIS-

Tim became aware that he was lying on a hard surface on his right side, that seemed a little off to him but he wasn't sure why. He pried his eyes open and realised he was on the floor in his living room with Jethro lying nearby.

"Jethro?" Tim asked as if the dog could give him an explanation. He soon figured it out when he went to push himself up and the slight flexing of his right hand sent a wave of hot pain up his arm, "Oh, yeah, I stabbed myself. Crap!" Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind he knew that his confusion wasn't a good thing and he really should be calling for help but he couldn't seem to get his body to listen to the inner voice. His cell ringing on the floor next to him pulled him out of the daze he seemed to be in and he quickly reached for it and answered.

"McGee! Where the hell are you?" the gravelly and very angry voice of his boss came clearly over the line.

"Boss…" his voice didn't want to function properly and so Gibbs didn't hear the response.

"You should have been here thirty minutes ago!"

"Won't be in today Boss," Tim finally managed to find his voice.

"What do you mean you won't be in today? What's wrong?" Immediately Gibbs was on alert. It didn't matter what was wrong with Tim he always came into work, with the exception of the laryngitis incident when his sister was in trouble, "Where are you?" he demanded.

"Home. Had an accident…" Tim trailed off as he felt the urge to throw up and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to try and push the feeling down. The cell fell to the floor from his loose grip and he didn't have the energy or the inclination to pick it back up.

In the squad room Tony and Ziva had stopped what they were doing as their boss managed to get hold of Tim. Their eyes widened as he asked what was wrong and then they were grabbing their gear and guns as Gibbs went for his.

"Call Ducky," ordered the team leader as they all headed for the elevator, Gibbs still had his cell plastered against his ear, "Tim? Answer me McGee!"

"Gibbs?" Ziva asked as Tony pulled out his cell to call the ME.

"I can hear him breathing but he's not answering. He said he's at home and he's had an accident but now won't respond," the frustration was clear in his tone.

"Boss, got Ducky," he held out his cell.

"Duck," the worried tone immediately alerted the ME to a problem.

"Jethro? What's wrong?"

"Meet us in the parking lot. Something's wrong with McGee…"

"I'm on my way!"

Gibbs handed Tony back his cell and then turned his attention back to his own, hoping to coax Tim back to the phone to speak to him again, to tell him what was wrong. He needed to know that his boy was alright, that this accident was nothing serious. He wanted to be over reacting, but everything told him that he wasn't. Replaying his very brief conversation with Tim in his head he could now hear the pained tone. Not to mention he could still hear him breathing, which was a good thing in some ways, but the quality of the breathing meant something was very wrong.

Reaching the car Gibbs got behind the wheel and quickly explained to Ducky the very little information he'd managed to glean before Tim stopped answering. He handed his cell over to the ME, who had climbed in the passenger seat as Tony and Ziva clambered into the back. The doors were barely closed before Gibbs was pulling out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.

-NCIS-

Tim could hear a voice but he wasn't sure where it was coming from. A wet nose touching his cheek and a whimper forced him to open his eyes and he found himself staring into the sorrowful eyes of his German shepherd. He could still hear the voice and it wasn't someone in the room with him. Glancing around he noticed his cell lying near where his left hand rested across his stomach and he went to pick it up, realising that the voice was coming from that. As he reached for it he assessed his situation; he was now lying on his back on his living room floor; it was a familiar feeling, something he had experience of very recently. He put his effort into focusing on what was happening and just a few seconds later he remembered. One look to his right, to his outstretched arm and the hope that the memory was false was shattered. The back of his hand was resting on the carpet and out of the palm stuck a knife. The once clean towel that he had wrapped around it was now soaked with blood. The voice coming from the cell was forgotten about.

Gingerly Tim lifted his right arm, gritting his teeth at the pain the movement generated, but for some inexplicable reason he wanted to bring his hand closer to his body. Maybe it was the need to see the knife up close, to make sure he wasn't hallucinating; it was possibly just an instinct that told him that he needed to raise his hand above the level of his heart to stop or at least slow the bleeding, because he certainly wasn't thinking clearly enough to realise it; either way he suffered through the increasing level of pain until he could rest the injured appendage on his abdomen, careful to turn it so that the back of his hand was against his stomach with the knife handle pointing towards his face. It was with a morbid fascination that he lifted his head slightly so as to be able to inspect the knife. That was a mistake because it made his head swim so he quickly laid it back on the carpet and went back to concentrating on his breathing and not being sick.

-NCIS-

Ducky was listening intently to the noises that he could hear over the phone. He could make out two quite different breathing sounds but when he heard a whimper he realised that one of those sounds was Tim's dog breathing nearby. The other sound was of someone trying to breathe deeply through pain and possibly nausea, it had the distinct sound of a deep breath being taken in through the nose and released through the mouth. Nobody in the car spoke, not wanting Ducky to miss hearing something. The ME then heard a rustling sound, the noise of clothes moving. He allowed his body to relax just the tiniest bit because Tim was clearly breathing and able to move, even if he wasn't able to speak. Ducky had tried several times to prompt a response but none had been forthcoming; he was now waiting for some indication that the man on the other end was ready to speak.

Gibbs pulled into the parking lot of Tim's apartment complex. Instead of taking the usual thirty to forty minutes it had taken them twenty, but nobody was complaining. The four piled out of the car and ran into the building, Ducky being that much slower bringing up the rear. Gibbs wasn't worried about that since they really didn't know what they were walking into, it didn't seem likely that Tim was under duress or that there was anyone else with him, but Gibbs didn't want to take any chances with his old friend's safety.

They reached the door to Tim's apartment and Gibbs gestured for Ducky to stay put. Ziva made short work of picking the lock and the three armed agents pulled their weapons before entering the apartment. Ziva went left to the kitchen as Tony and Gibbs carried on towards the living area and two bedrooms. It hadn't been that long since Tim had caved and moved into a bigger apartment but the team already knew the layout well from the few times they'd been over, even Gibbs.

Gibbs led the way into the living area so he was the first to see Tim lying on the floor there. No sooner had he stepped over the threshold than Jethro stood up and came between the prone man and the 'intruders', a low growl starting from deep in his chest. Gibbs held up his hand to stop Tony moving forward. The German shepherd was in full protective mode and although Jethro knew them his only thought would be stopping anyone from hurting his owner. They'd already seen the damage the dog could do when he had attacked McGee while high on drugs, nobody wanted a repeat performance.

"Jethro…" Gibbs spoke quietly but firmly.

The dog tilted his head slightly but growled again in warning. The first growl had dragged Tim from his haze but he had been unsure why his dog was growling. He'd then heard his boss' voice but thought perhaps he was imagining it. Jethro growling again told him something was upsetting his dog and he'd need to figure out what it was.

"Jethro…" Tim spoke softly to his dog, who immediately whimpered and stepped closer to him but kept his own body between the three people in the doorway, now that the men had been joined by Ziva, retaining his protective stance, "What's up boy?"

"Tim," Gibbs kept his voice soft so as not to startle the clearly upset dog.

"Boss?" the confusion was clear in the voice. Jethro was blocking his view so Tim couldn't see his team standing uncertainly in the doorway. They wanted nothing more than to dash to their family member's side but the very protective dog prevented it.

"Yeah Tim," Gibbs took a slow step into the room, eliciting another growl from Jethro.

"Jethro!" the order wasn't loud and the voice was weak but the tone was unmistakeable to the dog and he whimpered even as he kept his attention between Tim and the other three humans, "Release!" The old command, although not used very often these days, was so ingrained that immediately Jethro dropped his butt to the floor and sat passively next to Tim's feet, "You can come in now Boss."

Gibbs motioned for Ziva and Tony to stay put for a minute. He was pretty sure there was nobody else in the apartment so he holstered his weapon, having watched the display of protectiveness he had no doubt if anyone else had been in the apartment they'd have been dog chow by this point. Despite the fact that Jethro looked as relaxed as any friendly dog Gibbs had ever seen he still approached slowly, making no sudden movements. When he reached Jethro he cautiously put out his hand and the dog sniffed it. The moment he smelt the familiar scent of gun powder and saw dust that was all Gibbs the dog's tail thumped on the floor in welcome and Gibbs relaxed, stroking a hand across his head as he passed him to kneel down next to Tim.

"Tony, clear the rest of the apartment and get Ducky in here!" ordered Gibbs as he gently laid a hand on Tim's shoulder.

"Nobody else here Boss," he told him even as he groaned in pain as his hand moved slightly.

"Just following protocol Tim," Gibbs replied, "What happened?"

"Stupid accident. Knife slipped."

Tony and Ziva had finished clearing the apartment and Tony went to retrieve Ducky from outside as Ziva joined Gibbs kneeling on the floor. Jethro, now much more relaxed, came round and sat beside her and she absentmindedly trailed her hand through his fur.

Gibbs moved away a little but made sure he stayed in his agent's line of sight as he let Ducky take his place.

"Oh dear Timothy," he tutted as he inspected his right hand, "Jethro, we'll need an ambulance."

"Is that really necessary?" grumbled Tim even as his boss pulled out his cell to make the call.

"Yes it is young man!" Ducky had pulled out his stethoscope and was fixing a blood pressure cuff around Tim's left arm. The others watched in silence as he finished giving Tim a once over.

"How is he Duck?"

"Low blood pressure, which given the loss of blood is to be expected. It's a good thing he was able to put a towel around the wound. Not only did it stabilise the knife but also slowed down the bleeding," Ducky had decided against touching Tim's hand not wanting to cause him pain and feeling that at this point any further loss of blood would be minimal in comparison to if he tried to remove the makeshift dressing, "How long ago did this happen?"

"What time is it?"

"A little after nine Probie," Tony supplied for him. They had been due into the office for eight am, Gibbs having decided to let them come in a bit later following a hectic week the previous week.

"Maybe a couple of hours ago," Tim replied.

"Why didn't you call for an ambulance as soon as it happened?" Ducky asked.

"Didn't think it was an emergency," stated Tim, blushing slightly, giving his extremely pale complexion a flash of colour.

"You didn't think it was an emergency?!" spluttered Tony, "I'd hate to see what your idea of an emergency is then, McAccident!"

"Timothy a knife embedded in your hand definitely warrants emergency treatment!"

"It's not like I was going to ignore it! I was about to call Gibbs when I kind of passed out," Tim told Ducky, the adrenaline from the arrival of his team keeping him coherent enough to protest.

Not wanting Tim to get agitated Ducky rested a hand on his shoulder, "Well let's not worry about that right now. The main thing is that the ambulance is on its way and you're going to be just fine."

"Actually EMTs are here now," Tony informed him as Gibbs led them into the room.

Ziva took hold of Jethro's collar and took him into the bedroom. He was docile at the moment but he knew the members of Team Gibbs; she wasn't sure he'd be so friendly towards complete strangers given the stress of the situation.

It didn't take the EMTs long to stabilise the knife, insert an IV and place an oxygen mask over their patient's face before they lifted him on to a gurney and put him in the back of the ambulance, Ducky hot on their heels, not wanting Tim to be alone.

-NCIS-

It had been two hours since they had arrived at Bethesda ER and Tim had been whisked away with Ducky still by his side. Gibbs, Tony and Ziva had been joined by Abby and Jimmy after the Team Leader had called to inform them of what happened. Abby had predictably charged Gibbs on arriving and had been plastered to his side with his arm around her ever since.

Tony had been surprisingly quiet since arriving; he wouldn't admit it to anyone but seeing his Probie lying on the floor with a knife sticking out of his hand had caused his heart to jump into his throat, all sorts of scenarios running through his head in the short time before Tim told them it had been an accident.

Ziva had been keeping herself busy getting refreshments for everyone and making sure Gibbs had a cup of coffee to hand. After Tim and Ducky had left the apartment she had made sure that Jethro had sufficient water and ensured that the apartment was secure when they left. There was nothing more she could do.

Gibbs sat watching over his team as they all sat waiting for news of Tim's condition. The Team Leader knew it wasn't life threatening but that kind of injury could be a career ender, at least as far as Tim's status in the field was concerned. All it would take is some nerve damage…

The door to the room they were sitting in opened, a room that the nurses had found it prudent to find for the team as their anxiety had sky rocketed not long after arriving at the ER and it had been disturbing both patients and visitors.

"Duck…" Gibbs stood, Abby still sticking to his side like she was glued.

The ME soon found himself surrounded by the members of his work family and he did his best to calm their fears, "They removed the knife in the OR and Tim is just being settled in a room, once he is then you can see him, but he's still drowsy from the general anaesthetic they gave him."

"Is he going to be alright?" Tony asked.

"The injury isn't life threatening Anthony, but the knife only narrowly missed the ulnar artery and the surgeon can't be sure at this stage if there's any damage to the median nerve. That's the nerve that gives sensation to the thumb, index finger and middle finger as well as half of the ring finger. It's also a nerve branch that controls the thenar muscles of the thumb. The thenar muscles help to move the thumb and give the opposable movement, allowing the thumb to touch the tips of the other fingers."

"So if that nerve has been damaged…"

"Let's not borrow trouble Jethro. We need to wait for him to recover from the anaesthetic and then allow the specialist to do tests."

"Ducky, I need to know worst case scenario here, just in case."

Sighing the ME looked at the group who all nodded their agreement, except Jimmy who knew exactly what it would mean for McGee, "If the nerve has been damaged then it will depend on the extent of that damage, but worst case scenario, Timothy would no longer be able to grip properly with his right hand as there would be a loss of sensation in the part of his hand that the median nerve supplies. There are, however, treatments that may allow him to regain limited use of his hand again."

"But not enough for him to go into the field?" asked Ziva.

"No, if he has suffered permanent nerve damage he wouldn't be able to return to active field duty. Please remember this is worst case scenario. When you see Timothy don't let your concern show, it will do him no good to worry at the moment," Ducky looked pointedly at Abby.

Before anyone else could say anything a nurse opened the door, "Doctor Mallard, Agent McGee is settled in his room so you can see him now. Doctor Roman asked me to remind you that he needed to rest so if he's asleep don't wake him."

"Of course not Meredith," Ducky smiled at the young nurse who returned the smile before leaving. The group then followed the older man out of the room to see Tim.

-NCIS-

Tim felt groggy and disconnected when he woke for the first time after surgery. A familiar voice soothed any fears though.

"It's alright Timothy, you're in recovery and the knife has been removed," Ducky rested a cool hand on the young man's forehead.

"Damage?" the injured man managed to vaguely ask the question that was uppermost in his mind, despite the fog.

"Don't worry about that right now Timothy. Are you in any pain dear boy?"

"No," replied Tim after taking a second to think about it. He had that floaty feeling that was provided by the really good drugs, a sensation that he was familiar with from his time in hospital after his car crash at sixteen.

"That's good lad. You'll be moved to a room shortly but you just rest."

"'K," Tim hadn't even really registered his surroundings through his partially opened lids before he closed them again and drifted off.

The next time Tim woke up the fog had lifted and he took a moment to take in his surroundings this time. A nurse was just pulling a sheet up over him, "Hello Tim, you might not remember me, but I'm Meredith, but you can call me Merry, I'm your nurse. How are you feeling?"

"Hospital?"

"That's right. Do you remember what happened?" Merry's brow furrowed in concern but was relieved a moment later when the confusion on her patient's face cleared as he remembered.

"Yeah. I stabbed a knife into my hand. It was a stupid accident," Tim grimaced as he realised that although the fog clearing was a good thing he'd also lost the floaty feeling, which meant he could now feel the throbbing in his right hand. Glancing over he saw the injured appendage in a contraption that looked a little like traction, but was actually just a support for his arm to keep it elevated. His right arm was resting in a type of sling which was then attached to a metal pole on his bed.

"That's right. The knife was removed in surgery by Doctor Roman, he'll by to examine you later but in the meantime all you have to do is rest. Now, you have some visitors waiting to see you, are you up for some friendly faces?" Tim wondered for a minute who she was talking about, who would be waiting to see him. The confusion must have been clear on his face because Merry spoke again, "Doctor Mallard is speaking to your family but he said they're all anxious to see you."

Family? Had Gibbs called his parents? They wouldn't have come just for this even if he had. It was doubtful that Sarah would be waiting to visit him as well given she was in the midst of studying for her end of year exams. Shrugging slightly and feeling uncomfortable under the nurse's scrutiny he decided it was easier just to agree, "Sure."

Merry smiled, checked his hand was securely fastened in the sling, tucked the sheets in and then left the room to get his visitors. Perhaps if his mind wasn't still a little clouded from the anaesthetic he would have realised that she had meant his team from NCIS, as it was he was clueless.

It was only a few minutes later that he got his answer. It was his team. Why had the nurse referred to them as his family, he wondered. Mentally shrugging he turned his focus back to the team as they entered, led by Ducky.

"Timothy, good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he answered before turning his attention to Gibbs, "Boss, sorry…"

"Don't apologise Tim…"

"Right, sign of weakness."

"I was actually going to say that you had nothing to apologise for. Accidents happen Tim; the main thing is that you're OK."

To say that Tim was surprised that Gibbs wasn't angry about his no show to work was an understatement but before he could address it Abby was pulling him into a firm, but gentle embrace, conscious of the arm strapped to the metal pole, "I was so worried Timmy."

"I'm fine Abs," he tried to reassure her, though lying in a bed after having a knife surgically removed wasn't really fine.

"I doubt that Probie," Tony said as he gently clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, "But I'm sure you will be."

"You gave us quite a fright McGee," stated Ziva as she kissed his forehead lightly, causing him to blush.

"It was stupid; I've cut up fruit a hundred times…" Tim had always been good at beating himself up, this time was no exception.

"Timothy, as Jethro said, accidents happen lad. Now, how are you really feeling?"

"Foolish," responded Tim before cringing at the dark look he received and answering the question that the doctor was really asking, "I'm alright Ducky, my hands throbbing a bit and having it up in this sling isn't particularly comfortable…"

"I would imagine not, but it will help keep the swelling down and it's only while you are in bed, once you're up and about it will be strapped to your chest," Jimmy chimed in from behind Ducky.

"Did I do any nerve damage Ducky?" Tim knew, vaguely, he'd asked the question before but the answer hadn't been forthcoming. A lump of worry was lodged in his chest. Yes, he was left handed, but nerve damage to his right hand could still be a career ender.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that…"

"No but I can," a deep voice from behind them interrupted the conversation. The group turned to look at the man who had just entered the room, he was African American and was wearing dark blue scrubs and was a good couple of inches taller than Tony. He carried himself with an air of confidence and authority, he moved through the group of people to the bedside of his patient, "Hello Agent McGee, I'm Doctor Roman; I carried out the surgery on your hand."

"Please, call me Tim," despite not being quite himself he was still as polite as ever and reached out his left hand to shake his surgeon's.

"Alright Tim, how are you feeling?" the deep voice was warm and gave Tim the sense that he was in very capable hands.

"My hands throbbing, but something tells me that I should expect that."

Doctor Roman gave a chuckle, "I'm afraid so Tim. Stabbing yourself in the hand with a knife is not a pain free experience."

"So, you said you could answer my question about nerve damage…?"

"I need to run some tests with you now that you're awake. If your visitors would like to go and get some refreshments…" although it was worded as a suggestion the tone told the group that he wanted time alone with his patient.

"Alright, you heard the Doc, everybody out," ordered Gibbs.

Tim wasn't so sure he wanted to be left on his own to hear whatever news might come his way, "Gibbs, could you stay, please?"

Gibbs was surprised that his youngest agent had chosen to ask him to stay, thinking he would have asked for Ducky or Tony, maybe even Jimmy, but he quickly covered the shock, "If that's alright with Doctor Roman…"

"Of course," the surgeon agreed. The support of family and friends was important during recovery and especially when there was a possibility of a less than positive outcome.

"Come on," Ducky encouraged the younger members of the team out in front of him; "You can buy an old man a cup of tea."

Gibbs smiled at his old friend gratefully and then turned his full attention back to Tim and Doctor Roman as the door closed behind the rest of the team.

"I know this is hard Tim, but I'm going to ask you to close your eyes and just do what I tell you. It's likely to be uncomfortable but to give you pain medication before I do the tests could affect the results. Any questions?"

"No, let's get this over with," he sighed as he nestled his head back into the pillows and closed his eyes.

"We'll start out with something simple," Doctor Roman said, taking a small implement out of his pocket, "Tell me if you can feel this," he touched the point to the tip of Tim's little finger.

"Yes."

"That's good, this?" He moved on to the next finger, another answer in the affirmative. Gibbs watched as the Doctor went through the same procedure on all five finger tips, getting a positive response each time. "Alright, that's good Tim. I'm going to take your arm out of the sling now so that I can test the sensations further down." Doctor Roman gently removed the arm from the sling. The only sign of discomfort that Tim showed was his left hand gripping tightly at the sheet covering him and a slight scrunching of his face.

Gibbs reached out and put his hand over Tim's, immediately the younger man turned his hand over and gripped his boss' hand and received a reassuring squeeze in return. This time the tip of the pointed instrument was dragged down the length of Tim's fingers and touched at points of his palm, away from the central injury.

"Alright Tim, you have a good amount of sensation in both your fingers and palm. A slight loss is to be expected due to trauma and tissue swelling but that is all looking good."

"But…?" asked Tim opening his eyes to look at his Doctor, his left hand unconsciously flexing in Gibbs'.

"There's one more test we need to do," Doctor Roman looked his patient in the eye, "I'm warning you now that I'm not expecting an especially great response at this stage and these tests will be carried out possibly multiple times so that we can see the level of improvement…"

"Or not," mumbled Tim.

"Hey!" Gibbs gave him a very gentle tap on the top of his head, "Doctor Roman has already told you that you have good sensation in your hand, that's more than we expected so early on!"

"We can leave this last test until later if you'd prefer, but it will give me a baseline to work from."

"No, let's just do it. The sooner I know what I'm up against the better."

Gibbs sighed at the slightly defeated tone in his agent's voice, but the Doctor just gave a small smile of understanding. Clearly he was used to this response in his post-operative patients.

"I want you to try to bring your thumb towards your fingers. Remember you've just had a knife surgically removed from your palm, so the movement will be restricted," warned Doctor Roman.

Tim pulled in a deep breath and started to move his thumb in, the moment he moved it a bolt of pain shot across his palm and his grip on Gibbs' hand tightened without him even giving it any thought, but he persevered and managed to bring his thumb in line with his index finger before the pain became too much. Sweat beaded his forehead and his eyes watered.

"Excellent!" the surgeon was full of enthusiasm.

Tim shot him a doubtful glare and through the throbbing in his hand asked, "Really?!" how could anyone think that such little movement with so much pain was a good thing?

"Tim, I know it's difficult for you to believe, but the fact that you could move your thumb at all is a good sign. You're only a few hours post-op so there's a good chance that the only thing stopping you moving the thumb further is the pain generated by the wound, not by nerve damage, although at this stage its possible there is still some, we won't know more until your hand has healed further."

"Great, waiting, that's something to look forward to!"

Gibbs bit back a smile at his usually level headed and unflappable agent with his now grouchy countenance. He was pretty sure laughing at Tim wasn't going to help.

"I'm going to put your arm back into the sling and reattach it to keep it elevated now," Doctor Roman told him, before taking the injured appendage and gently strapping the sling back in place, making sure that the whole hand was fully supported, "How's the pain?"

"Peachy."

"Tim!" Gibbs reprimanded but considering that Tim still had a firm grip on his hand he had a good idea just how much pain the younger man was in.

"On a scale of one to ten, one being nothing, ten being excruciating?" Doctor Roman was unfazed.

"Five."

"Hey! My fingers going blue here tell me you're lyin'!" Gibbs pointed to their still joined hands. Tim sighed; he hated admitting to what he saw as a weakness in front of his boss. He should have asked Ducky to stay, but Gibbs would understand how much a bad result on these tests would affect Tim's life better than anyone, "Tim, don't be stubborn. If you're in pain then you need to admit to it and let the staff here help you. Admitting you're in pain doesn't make you weak."

"Your Dad is right," Doctor Roman hadn't waited to be introduced so had just assumed that the grey haired man was his patient's father not registering that the man in the bed had referred to him as Gibbs, "Being in pain is counterproductive to your recovery."

Gibbs felt his heart skip a beat at being referred to as Tim's father. Out of all of the team Tim was probably the only one that didn't see himself as one of Gibbs' 'kids', but that just wasn't true. He was as much a part of his family as any other member of the team; he just didn't seem to need the same level of support as the others. Things were different this time, he did need Gibbs to step up for him and he was damn well going to do it, Tim's stubborn streak be damned!

"Er, he's not my Dad, he's my boss."

"Doesn't matter, he's still right!" Doctor Roman didn't miss a beat.

"Fine. Eight."

"I'll get you some medication to help."

"Thanks. So, when can I get out of here?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and Doctor Roman chuckled but answered, "You'll be our guest for at least twenty four hours. When you're discharged you'll need to have help at home because you won't be using your hand for a while no matter what the outcome of the tests. It will also be necessary for you to come back and see me for further tests as well as one of our physical therapists."

"I suppose I could ask Sarah to come and stay, but she's studying for her exams…"

"You'll be coming to stay with me," Gibbs stated.

Doctor Roman had slipped out and requested the medication for his patient while the two men discussed the details.

"I… What? No, Boss, that's not necessary."

"It is necessary."

"What I meant was you don't have to do that. I'm sure Sarah won't mind or I can call my parents…"

Gibbs saw the brief look of reluctance at the mention of his parents but put that to one side to deal with at a later date, "I know I don't have to McGee, I want to."

Doctor Roman came back into the room with a syringe and interrupted any further discussions, "Here you go," he told his patient as he slipped the liquid into Tim's IV port, "This should help with the pain. If you need anything press the call button. I will see you again tomorrow, in the meantime if you think of any questions let the staff know and they'll page me."

"Thanks Doctor Roman," Tim briefly remembered his manners, despite still feeling out of sorts. The door closed behind the doctor and the two men were left alone once more.

"I meant what I said Tim, you're coming to stay with me."

"What about Jethro?"

"I have a yard that I'm sure he'd be more than happy to explore," Gibbs pointed out reasonably as Tim yawned, "How about we table this discussion and you get some sleep?"

"Hmmm, OK," agreed the younger man, more affable with the strong pain medication now running through his system.

Gibbs grinned as he watched him trying to get comfortable, snuffling with frustration as he tried, unsuccessfully, to lie on his right side because the movement caused the pillow under his right elbow to shift. Walking round to the other side of the bed Gibbs adjusted the pillow, holding it in place until Tim got comfortable and then pushed some hair out of his face.

"Thanks Boss," mumbled Tim sleepily.

"You're welcome Tim, now sleep!" he ordered, turning to leave the room to allow him to do just that.

"Boss," the voice was muffled and sleepy, "I'd be proud to have a Dad like you."

Gibbs halted, his heart once again skipping a beat at the words. He wondered what kind of relationship Tim actually had with his own father. Turning back to the bed, he adjusted the sheet over the now slumbering man, sure that if he hadn't been under the influence of drugs he wouldn't ever have spoken those words out loud, "Any Dad would be proud to have a son like you Tim," he whispered, placing a hand gently on Tim's face before adjusting the sheet once more and leaving the room.

-NCIS-

"Abby, will you please calm down?" begged Tony for what was probably the fiftieth time in the last half hour.

"They should have been here by now!"

"I am sure they have just been delayed in traffic Abby," Ziva tried to reassure the Goth who was bouncing from sitting on the couch to staring out the front window of Gibbs' house.

"It was pretty bad this morning," agreed Jimmy as he walked out of the kitchen.

"Oh, oh, here they are," she squealed before making a dash for the door, only to be caught in Tony's arms and prevented from diving headlong out into Gibbs' driveway, "TONY!"

"Abby, Tim has been in hospital for two days on heavy medication, I'm pretty sure between that and the fact his right arm is strapped to his chest, he is in no shape for an Abby Sciuto special hug!"

Abby stopped fidgeting in Tony's arms, "I know," she sighed, "I'm just happy that he's out."

"Then let us go and greet him calmly, shall we?" suggested Ziva, taking Abby's hand and pulling her from Tony's embrace. At least if she got carried away when she set eyes on the injured man Ziva could now control her movements.

"Thank you," mouthed Tony, relieved not to be dealing with the hyper woman any more.

Tony hurried forward passed Jimmy, Ziva and Abby as he saw Gibbs trying to help Tim get out of the car, "Here Boss, let me get him," he called out, "Perhaps you could make sure Abby stays calm," he whispered as he approached the two men.

"Ah, is Abigail a little excitable?" Ducky chuckled.

"Just a little!" grumbled Tony as he turned his attention to his youngest team mate, "Hey McGoo, how's it going?"

"'Lo Tony," Tim's glassy eyes met Tony's clear ones.

"Ah, they gave you a shot of the good drugs before you left then?" chuckled Tony as he reached into the car and linked his arm under Tim's left to pull him to his feet.

"They didn't have much of a choice after they put him through more tests," growled Gibbs, steadying Tim from behind as he stood.

"Let's get him in the house and up to bed Jethro," Ducky suggested, leading the way inside.

"Aw, can we at least say hello Ducky!" pouted Abby.

"Keep it brief and gentle Abigail. Our young man is quite worn out."

"Not to mention drugged up," added Tony.

"Hey Timmy," she moved forward, finally able to pull free from Ziva at a nod from Gibbs. She leaned forward, bracing herself on his good arm and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey Abbs," he smiled dopily at her before turning to Ziva and Jimmy, "Guys."

"McGee, it is good to see you out of the hospital," Ziva smiled warmly.

"Hey Tim," Jimmy greeted, not sure what else to say. It didn't really look like the conversation was being tracked that closely anyway.

"Come on lad, up to bed with you," Ducky turned him gently as Tony supported him up the stairs after Gibbs had disengaged Abby from Tim's arm.

"You can see him again later Abs, give him some time to rest," he told her, kissing the top of her head before following the other three men up the stairs.

A short time later the team, minus a sleeping Tim, were gathered in Gibbs' living room. Their voices quiet in deference to the injured man. Woe betide anyone that woke him because they'd have Gibbs to deal with.

"What took you so long to get home Gibbs?" asked Abby from her spot snuggled up to his side.

"Doctor Roman wanted to do another set of tests," Gibbs told her.

"Hence the reason Timothy is now out for the count. Not all of the tests cause a lot of pain but the one where he is asked to move his thumb towards his fingers causes him a great deal of discomfort. Doctor Roman was kind enough to provide a shot of morphine to get him through his first hours at home…"

"Kind my ass," grumbled Gibbs.

"… and we have Timothy's prescriptions for further pain medication and antibiotics already filled and waiting for him," Ducky informed the group ignoring Gibbs completely. He'd had to watch the hackles rise when Doctor Roman insisted on carrying out the most painful test already; he didn't feel like reliving that particular part of the morning.

"What was the outcome of the tests?" asked Jimmy.

"Doctor Roman was very pleased with Tim's progress, even in just a couple of days. He is pretty confident that if there's any nerve damage it's minimal."

"Pretty confident?"

"Anthony, we won't know for definite until Timothy's wound has healed sufficiently for full movement but he is scheduled for a check-up with Doctor Roman next week and if all is well he will then be scheduled for physical therapy. At this stage there is no reason to doubt that Timothy will regain full use of his right hand."

"So he will be able to return as field agent?"

"Yes, Ziva, he will. The movement that he already has in his thumb is quite amazing considering the damage done. He is already almost able to touch his middle finger."

"How long before he can return to work?" asked Tony, eager to get his Probie back where he could keep a watchful eye on him.

"It will depend on his appointment with Doctor Roman next week, but hopefully he will be able to return to desk duty after that. It will probably be another couple of weeks after that before he'll be allowed back in the field."

The team relaxed, the knowledge that Tim would rejoin them eventually enough to settle down any remaining nerves. Yes, there may still be some minor damage but it seemed that it wouldn't be enough to stop Tim's return.

-NCIS-

"Is he here yet?"

"No, Tony, he is not!" replied Ziva, "And if you ask me one more time what is clearly obvious I will find new and inventive ways to kill you with the office stationery!"

"But…"

"Is he here yet?"

Ziva managed to prevent herself from screaming, but it was a near thing, "No, Abby, he is not, will you both just please be patient!"

"Doesn't anyone have any work to do round here?" growled Gibbs coming round the corner, trying to hide a smirk of amusement.

"Aw come on Boss, how can we work when we're waiting to find out if McAbsent is coming back to desk duty today?"

"I dunno DiNozzo, maybe because it's your job!"

"But Boss…"

"Don't whine Anthony," Ducky told him as he came up to the group, "Mr Palmer called and said they're on their way up."

Tim was still not allowed to drive so Jimmy had offered to take him to his appointment with Doctor Roman and then drive him to the Navy Yard so he could see his team, no matter the outcome.

Ding – the elevator chiming had all five heads swivelling to see their team mate, who for once was giving nothing away as he approached them.

He stood before them, a blank expression on his face. Gibbs scrutinised him, trying to read the outcome in his eyes, that's when he noticed the twinkle in them. Tim's eyes always gave him away but since Gibbs knew he was probably the only one looking that closely, except maybe Ducky, because the others were too impatient he just asked, "Well Tim?"

The man in question pulled a letter out of his jacket pocket and offered it to Ducky with a flourish. The ME took the letter and read it, not giving anything away as the eyes of the rest of the team were focused on him.

"Oh Timothy," Ducky's voice caused everyone's hearts to stop, except Gibbs who had turned away and was smiling, "Welcome back lad!" he pulled Tim into a hug before relinquishing him into the unmerciful hugs, backslaps and teasing of his team.

Gibbs turned and spoke quietly to his friend, "Nerve damage?"

"A slight loss of sensation in the centre of his palm, but so minimal it's hardly worth mentioning."

The two older men turned back towards the group huddle in the middle of the bull pen, ignoring the looks of the other agents, and watched as one of their own was welcomed back.

Tim looked over Tony's shoulder as the older man pulled him in for yet another hug and he caught Gibbs' eye, "Thank you," he mouthed before pushing away from Tony only to be engulfed in another Abby rib crushing hug.

Gibbs just smiled. The team was whole again.