A/N: This story was written for PhoenixRising. There are no later season spoilers because I haven't been watching the show for the last two years. :) But I am aware of a few events and so, if anything fits exactly with the most recent season, it's accidental, but some of the broad strokes could be accurate.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or the characters, but even though I'm not watching, I still enjoy using them. :)

Anywhere Else
by Enthusiastic Fish

"A true friend is someone who is there for you when he'd rather be anywhere else."
Len Wein

He'd rather be anywhere else than where he was at this moment. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be sitting here. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. All he knew was that he didn't want to be here.

...but he couldn't be anywhere else.

The main problem was that he couldn't think of what to do to make things better. All he could do was sit here.

Maybe there was no way to make things better, but if he could think of something to try, he could at least be doing something, not sitting here, doing nothing.

Just sitting in a place he didn't want to be, knowing that there was nowhere else he could be at this moment.

Already, it had been about an hour. Just sitting here in awkward, painful silence.

There had been a couple of times that he'd opened his mouth to say something but no words had come out. Once, he'd pretended he was yawning. It was late enough that he could be tired, although he wasn't. The other time, his attempt to speak hadn't been noticed.

The waiting was the worst thing, but that wasn't going to change. He needed to say something. Otherwise, he was just sitting there like a bump on a log doing nothing to make the situation better.

He took a deep breath.

"Tim?" Tony said, hesitantly.

There was no response. He might as well have said nothing.

Tim was just sitting there, the way he had been when Tony had first got to the hospital. Not moving, not speaking, not looking at anyone. He was barely even breathing. Just sitting there with his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped, covering his mouth, his eyes looking at the floor.

Tony decided to try again.

"Tim."

Still nothing.

"It could still turn out okay."

Nothing.

Tony didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be the one trying to keep Tim from facing the worst possibility alone.

But I'm the one who's here.

Silently, Tony cursed Gibbs for sending him here without any prep. He must have known that something was going terribly wrong, and he didn't say anything but that Tony needed to get to the hospital.

Why me?

That was the biggest question. Tony hadn't really expected to get a call like this. He hadn't really heard from the others much since he left. Certainly, he didn't get random calls in the middle of the night telling him that he needed to sit with Tim at the hospital.

Another try?

"Tim."

No movement. No acknowledgment. Tim wasn't really in the waiting room. He was back in the OR. He was desperately waiting for someone to break the impasse. Tony knew it. He knew that Tim's reaction to stress, to fear, to anxiety was to withdraw. He couldn't physically leave. He'd never leave without knowing, but he could remove himself mentally, and right now, it would take a concerted effort to get him back. Tony had no doubt that the doctor coming out would get an instant reaction. Everything else was faint background noise.

I don't want to be here, Tony thought again.

But he had to do something to help Tim through this.

Tentatively, he put his hand on Tim's shoulder and squeezed it.

"I'm right here, Tim," he said, finally. "I'll be right here as long you need me to be."

He felt Tim tremble, and he knew that he'd been heard. Whether Tim chose to acknowledge it or not, Tony knew that Tim had actually heard him and that was good enough for the moment.

For a few minutes, there was no other reaction other than that trembling.

Then, Tim let out a shaky breath, closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. Tony squeezed his shoulder again and shook Tim a little. He'd said what he needed to say. So he didn't say anything else. He wanted to let Tim say something if he would.

For another few minutes, it was silent. Tony kept his hand on Tim's shoulder, feeling the trembling.

Then, finally, finally, Tim broke his silence. He didn't look up, but he spoke.

"They haven't told me anything," he whispered. "They just made me get out and said that they'd tell me...later."

Tony felt anew the desire to not be the one here with Tim.

"It's going to be okay. I know it."

"No, you don't," Tim said. "You don't know that. You can't know that. Maybe the doctors don't even know that. Or maybe they know that you're wrong. Maybe they know right now that you're wrong. Maybe they're just waiting to tell me that you're wrong. Maybe..."

He was still not looking up. His voice wasn't loud. It was soft and shaking.

"Okay. So I don't know," Tony said, again wishing he was somewhere else.

"I wish you did," Tim said, his voice shaking more. "I really wish you did. It was serious. Everything was fine. ...until it wasn't. It wasn't." His voice went back to a whisper. "It really wasn't fine."

Now, Tony was afraid that Tim was actually going to start crying. If he did... Tony wasn't prepared for that. He didn't know how to deal with a friend who was genuinely in tears. Yes, this was a situation that might justify some tears, but Tony just didn't think he was the guy to deal with it.

For the umpteenth time, he wondered why in the world Gibbs had thought he was the best choice. He also wondered why he had agreed.

What was I thinking?

But Tony knew what he had been thinking. He had been thinking that Tim was his friend and needed help. And now that he was here, there was no way that he could leave Tim to face this all alone.

"What if they die?" Tim asked.

There was that question. It was unanswerable. Who in the world could answer a question like that? There was nothing that could make the worst possible scenario good. There was nothing that could make it even tolerable in the moment it happened. Tony had no idea what to say.

So he fell back on what he'd already said.

"I'll still be here," he said. "No matter what."

Still that shaking, still no attempt to sit up, but Tim didn't cry.

Thank goodness.

"Thanks," he whispered.

They sat there, together, Tim staring at the floor, Tony staring at the walls, neither of them speaking, for another hour.

For some reason, Tony never even considered calling anyone else. There was no question of it, somehow. He didn't want to be here, but no one else was going to be here in his place. No matter what. Now that he was here, he'd see it through to the end.

Whatever the end was.

Two hours. Tony was ready to start saying something stupid just to break the tension when the doors opened.

Instantly, as Tony had guessed, Tim was on his feet. He looked nowhere but at the doctor. Tony stood up as well, just a step behind, ready to give whatever support was needed.

"Mr. McGee?"

Tim nodded. He didn't speak. Whatever questions he had were probably easily read in his eyes. The doctor didn't need Tim to say a word.

"They're going to be all right."

Tim let out a loud, shaking exhale. Then, he started nearly hyperventilating as he tried to process what he'd been told. Tony stepped forward and grabbed Tim by the arm. He led him to a chair and pulled him down onto it before Tim collapsed with relief.

The doctor followed them and sat down.

"Your wife is in Recovery. We'll let you know as soon as you can go back to see her, but do you want to see your daughter?"

A tentative smile crossed Tim's lips.

"Daughter?" he asked. "I have a daughter. She's okay?"

The doctor smiled.

"Yes. She's small, as you already knew she would be, and we're keeping her in the NICU for the next couple of days. I'm hopeful that she'll stabilize quickly. You can come back and see her now, if you'd like."

"Yes," Tim said. "Yes."

So far, Tim was holding it together, but Tony was almost positive that he wouldn't when he saw his new baby. Thankfully, Tony wouldn't be...

"Tony, would you come back with me? Please?"

Grimacing inwardly, Tony smiled and nodded. He stood up and they were conducted back to the NICU. There, in an incubator, was a tiny baby. Not as small as Tony had thought she would be, but still very small.

"Here she is, Mr. McGee," a NICU nurse said. "You can come closer."

Hesitantly, Tim walked up to the incubator. He looked at his daughter for a few minutes. Then, he looked at the nurse.

"Can I touch her?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Yes. Be very gentle. Skin contact is good, even for premature babies."

Carefully, Tim put his hand into the incubator and gently touched his daughter. She twitched a little at the contact but otherwise made no move.

"And she's going to be okay?" he asked. "This doesn't...mean that..."

"She's going to be just fine, Mr. McGee," the nurse said. "She was far enough along that she should only be here a few days."

Tim slid his hand out of the incubator and nodded, still not crying, but Tony could see it coming.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

The nurse patted him on the back.

"Don't worry. By tomorrow, you should be able to hold her."

Tim nodded again. Then, he walked out of the NICU, Tony following along behind. They walked back out to the waiting room and Tim sat down. He was back to staring at the floor.

"We knew that the baby would probably come early. Delilah's doctor said we should be ready for that. He said that the longer we could put off labor, the better, but that a few weeks early would be okay."

Tony nodded but didn't speak. He didn't think he had anything to add to this right now, anyway.

"Then...when it started, we could both tell that something was wrong, but we hoped that it would be fine. ...and then, it really wasn't. I thought Delilah was going to die when they made me leave. And then, I thought that maybe our baby would die or maybe...maybe I'd have to choose between them." Tim took a deep breath and let it out all in a whoosh. "How could I have done that?"

"You didn't have to," Tony said. "The doctor said they're both fine. Don't worry about what didn't happen."

"I know," Tim said. "I know. I was so afraid...that I would lose everything."

And the tears came.

Tony had been dreading this moment. He had known it would come. There was way too much emotion bound up in this situation for Tim to not shed at least a tear or two, no matter the outcome.

Still, Tim needed some reassurance at the moment. It wasn't his fault that all this had happened. It wasn't even his fault that Tony was here. That was on Gibbs (as Tony planned on telling him at the first opportunity).

So Tony scooted over and put his arm around Tim's shoulders.

"It's okay, Tim. You didn't. Everything is going to be just fine. In another week or two, you'll just be another sleep-deprived dad."

Tim let out a tear-filled laugh and nodded again.

"Yeah. I hope so."

"You won't when you are that dad. But it'll be worth it in the end."

Tony sat there while Tim got control of himself, and then, after a little while longer, the doctor came back out.

"Your wife is waking up," he said. "You can come back and see her."

Tim nodded and, this time, didn't ask for Tony to come with him. Thankfully.

Tony waited, though. Even though the crisis was now passed, he wasn't going to leave Tim to deal with all this alone. Good news was great, but his baby was still in the NICU and his wife was recovering from surgery after nearly dying. That was not the time for someone to be alone.

After another thirty minutes, Tim was back, looking more solemn, but more calm than he had been before. Tony stood up, thinking that he was about to get his marching orders.

It was nearly three in the morning.

"Hey, Tim. How is she?"

Tim smiled a little.

"Asleep," he said. "They said she'll be here for a few days. For tonight, she's in the ICU, hopefully, just tonight."

"But she'll be okay?"

Tim nodded. "That's what they say. They also said that I should go home. I can't stay with her until she's in a regular room...and my baby is...in the NICU, too...so..." He took another breath and ran a shaking hand over his head. "...I guess I'll go home. Thanks for being here."

Tony shook his head. "No, Tim. You're not going home."

"I can't stay here," Tim said. "I want to, but... I can't."

"You're still not going home. Come and stay at my place. I have a pull-out couch."

Tim smiled weakly. "I don't know that I'll be able to sleep."

"You will. Once you lay down, I'll bet you'll be down for the count."

"I don't think so."

"I do. Come on. You shouldn't be alone."

Then, Tim's eyes got wet again, but this time, he managed to keep the tears from falling.

"Th-thanks, Tony. I didn't really want to be."

"I know," Tony said. "Let's go. You're not driving, either."

Tim nodded. "I don't think I should be."

"You shouldn't."

As they left the hospital, Tim suddenly looked at him, giving Tony his full attention for almost the first time.

"What in the world are you even doing here?" he asked, thickly.

"Sitting with a friend."

"But I know you, Tony. You didn't want to be here."

Tony smiled.

"I didn't want to be anywhere else."

They left the hospital together.

FINIS!