Author's Note: Greetings! So this is just a little one-shot for a missing scene from the season 10 premier. If you're reading this and recognize me from my other story, A Far Cry From Normal, then worry not! The final chapter for that will be posted soon. This is just a little something that has been buzzing around in my head so I had to get it out.

Warning: Spoilers for the season 10 premier. Otherwise, there's no foul language or anything like that. Just sweet and simple.

Nurse Amanda Howell sighed as she collapsed into a chair near the nurse's station. She could not honestly say that the environment around her had calmed down because the chaos caused from the Navy Yard bombing was still very much present. But it was calmer. The worst of the patients had been tended to and now it was just a matter of identifying everyone, notifying next of kind and, of course, trying to deal with the strong media presence. Thankfully they were not allowed in the building but that did not stop them from setting up camp outside of the hospital, making it nearly impossible to navigate the parking lots and slip inside the building without being questioned.

Amanda had quickly learned to put on regular clothes if she had to leave for any reason so they wouldn't try to stop her but, after the bombing, she had been so busy pulling a double that she hadn't left at all.

She took a deep breath again and suddenly found it difficult to believe that the incident only occurred yesterday. Clearly she had been on the clock for too long but as things began to mellow out and the new shifts started, she knew she wouldn't be there for much longer. She also knew they could probably use her but she was exhausted, hungry, sore and, to be honest, she was disturbed by everything that had happened.

With one last deep breath, Amanda pushed herself out of the chair and stretched her aching back. She then glanced around, utilizing the easy line of sight into several of her patient's rooms. Given that she worked in the ICU, many of her patients were unconscious and seriously injured but, with the sudden overload of patients the hospital had received due to the bombing, they had been forced to transfer some of the less severe cases to the ICU which meant some of her patients were a bit more lively than she was used to.

And, as she peered into one of the rooms, she realized that was going to be a problem.

"And where, may I ask, are you going?" she asked pointedly as she entered the room of a wounded NCIS Special Agent. She had noticed he was painfully pulling on a shirt that someone had apparently dropped off for him.

He smiled for a moment and then started to button his shirt. "Duty calls."

Amanda frowned and wondered what in the world he was talking about. There was no building left to go back to. Instead of voicing the question, she simply chuckled. "Yeah? Well, duty calls for me too so I will have to ask that you stop what you're doing and get some much needed rest."

He smiled again, his faced etched with pain and fatigue, but his green eyes were strong. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I don't really have a choice."

"You are correct there, Agent… McGee," she replied as she grabbed his chart and refreshed herself on his particular condition. "Your only option is to stay right where you are. Your injuries were…"

"Not severe," the agent interjected lightly, his tone smooth. He was not at all threatening or even rude which was a rarity in comparison to her normal military patients. Still, he seemed to have made up his mind.

Amanda sighed as she noticed his pale skin and gentle movements. She considered calling the doctor but knew they were still swamped and wouldn't put up nearly the fight that she would. So instead, she reread the chart.

"You're wrong there, Agent."

"Tim," he corrected as he worked to control his breathing after apparently putting too much energy into buttoning his shirt.

"Fine," Amanda replied. "You're wrong, Tim. You're injuries are severe even though they may not seem like it. Surely Dr. Romaine explained it to you?"

The agent shrugged and seemed to brush it off. "Maybe, but I feel okay and I'm needed so…"

"Clearly you weren't listening to your doctor, then," Amanda replied, knowing that she was perhaps getting too snippy with him but his calm demeanor and stubbornness was getting her going. "You were hit pretty hard by the blast wave, Tim. That means that your internal organs, namely your lungs, were put under a great deal of stress. That also means that any overexertion could put you in very bad shape."

"I won't overexert myself," he replied simply as he slowly began to put a shoe on.

She sighed and gestured at his current action, "You're doing it right now! Who knows what could push your body past its limits? Not to mention the fact that you were basically stabbed by a piece of glass which probably could have used surgery."

Tim stopped his movements and watched her carefully. She could tell that his mind wasn't changing, however, he was simply giving her the respect of listening. In that moment, she thought he looked much older than his age. It wasn't his physical appearance, however.

"Look," she continued, "I'm not trying to freak you out but you need to stay here for at least another day so we can monitor you. If your lungs give out or there happens to be a slow internal bleed that didn't show up before, which is very possible in blast wave injuries… that could be bad, Tim."

He closed his eyes now as he took a somewhat shallow, shaky breath. "I hear what you're saying," he said eventually, his voice still calm and sincere. "And I fully appreciate your concern and… well, persistence. But I watched two people die yesterday because they were closer to the bomb than I was. I almost lost my team and, more importantly, it was all caused by a man who is still out there, walking free."

Amanda shifted uncomfortably. Sometimes it was easy to get caught up in the happenings of the hospital and forget that there was a world beyond its walls. A world that was bad enough that it kept the hospital in business.

Of course the terrorist attack had certainly shaken their foundation and had Amanda feeling very vulnerable. She knew a military hospital was always a potential target for such attacks so yeah, it had been unsettling that the bomb had gone off so close to where she worked.

But the man before her had actually been there. And not only had he been there, he had been right in the middle of it. She didn't know much about him other than the fact that he had been one of the few survivors found in the building itself.

"Look, Nurse… Howell," he continued as he squinted towards her badge, "I just got a call from the Director himself and they need me."

Amanda bit her lip. "Surely there's someone else who could help while you're recovering…"

She found herself confused by her own actions as the conversation continued. Normally, she wouldn't have spent so much time trying to beg a patient to stay. Even before the ICU, she would rarely try to convince her ER patients to stay if they had clearly decided not to. But now, as she looked into the eyes of the exhausted and clearly wounded agent before her, she had the inescapable need to take care of him.

"My team is the closest to him and the only other guy who would even be capable of tracking him down like me was killed in the explosion," he continued as he slowly, painfully got to his feet. After a moment of trying to steady himself, he eventually opened his eyes again and looked at her.

"I am going to leave now," he informed her calmly, "So you can either let me go and be done with it or you can give me some tips on how to limit my potential for making things worse."

Amanda frowned and narrowed her eyes at him. He was so stubborn but she couldn't bring herself to dislike him. "Fine," she said finally as she handed him some forms to fill out.

"Bottom line, you're going to hurt like hell, so just expect it to get worse as our pain meds wear off."

He nodded but didn't say anything so she continued.

"Your lungs are the biggest concern, especially given your broken ribs, so keep all physical activity to the bare necessities. In fact, you should really be confined to a wheelchair but definitely no stairs. Also, keep your torso as straight as possible so you don't tear the stitches out and bleed all over the place."

The agent smiled again, a sight that Amanda could see herself getting used to.

"Is that all?" he asked with a smirk.

Amanda chuckled and replied, "What? Were you expecting me to hand you a Band-Aid and send you on your way?"

Tim shrugged. "I was kind of hoping for that, yeah."

"Okay," Amanda said with a grin as she turned and plundered through a nearby drawer. "Ah, here we go, Special Agent Timothy McGee. This should fix you right up."

She turned back around and handed him one of the Mickey Mouse Band-Aids they gave out to young children. He accepted it with a small laugh.

"Whoa, wait a second," she interjected when he began to leave to room. "I will only give you that magical Band-Aid if you make me a promise."

The agent's eyebrows lifted and his head cocked to the side slightly. She inwardly smiled at his sudden curiosity. "And what is that?"

"You have to promise to come back tonight," she said sternly. And before he could protest, she continued with, "Just for the night so we can monitor the damage that you will undoubtedly do. And that's only if you don't get worse before tonight because if you start to feel anything… unexpected, then you have to come straight back."

"Unexpected?"

"Increased difficulty breathing, pressure in your chest, unbearable pain, profuse bleeding, coughing up blood…"

"Okay, okay," he interrupted, his face suddenly losing some of the composure it had before. "I get it. I'll come back tonight. When I'm done."

She laughed and nodded. "I have a feeling your body will be 'done' before you are but, I'll take it. So go on, be a hero, and I will see you tonight."

"You'll still be here?"

Amanda thought about that for a moment. As much as she wanted to go home, she knew no one would complain if she stayed as they certainly could use the help. Besides, she wanted to ensure that Timothy McGee returned safely and continued on his path to recovery.

"Of course," she replied, "I'm a nurse. I have no life."

He laughed and said, "I know the feeling." Which was a statement she actually believed.

"Thanks again," he added as he held up the Band-Aid and walked out of the room. She sighed as she watched him painfully make his way down the hallway and disappear into the elevator. She knew she could have fought a little harder to keep him there but she also knew a lost cause when she saw one. Like many of her stoic patients, he was bound by his duty and even she had to admit that being called by the Director would be a pretty good reason to return to the battlefield, so to speak.

Regardless, Amanda made her way out of the room, deciding that she would keep the room registered to the agent as long as she could, hoping that he would find the terrorist and return soon.

With that, she went back to the chair beside the nurse's station and took a seat. It was sometimes hard to work with some of the most selfless and heroic people the country had to offer but, as she stared at the television screen that was showing disturbing images of the damaged building, she knew there was no other place she wanted to be. After all, someone had to be there to catch the heroes when they fell.

With one last sigh and the acknowledgment that it was going to be another long night, Amanda stood back up and began to check on her other patients.

END.