Hey, all! Yes, another one-shot. Idk why, but I've had the urge to write the past fews days.

Anyway, standard disclaimers apply. I don't own NCIS, it belongs to NCIS.

And as I mentioned in the summary, the title is take from the song How to Save a Life by The Fray, but besides the name, it has nothing to with the song itself.

And also, a disclaimer for the title as well. I don't own it, it belongs to the band, etc.

Okay, that's it. On with the story! :)

McGee ducked quickly as several bullets flew past his head, riddling the wall behind him.

"McGee!" Tony yelled from somewhere towards the front of the building.

His head swiveled in time to see a small grade A explosive being tossed in his general direction.

He made a mad run for cover behind the old semi truck nearly twenty feet away and was barely able to dive behind it before the small explosion shook the building.

He threw his hands over his head in attempt to protect himself from the shrapnel, dust, and debris both from the bomb and building.

His hands flew quickly as he pulled out his last clip from his holster, reloading his weapon and ducking around the other end of the vehicle, firing off a few rounds, hoping to catch their perp off guard. It didn't work. He fired off several rounds of his own and McGee was barely able to dodge them for the twelfth time this past hour.

'When did this all go to pot?' he thought grimly as another automatic fired off a stream of missiles.

It had been a routine run. Gibbs had sent both he and Tony to search the area, collect evidence and prints for Abby and check for recent activity in or around the storage container that had been, supposedly, abandoned years ago by the Miller Trucking Company.

'Well, so much for that.' He thought as Matthew Miller, the son of Matthew Miller Sr. who owned the company, fired another several rounds in Tony's direction and Tony fired several back.

Apparently, Miller Jr. had been using his father's old storage containers to store the weapons he had been dealing for the past eleven years. His plan had been perfect and no one knew anything, including his own father. His mistake, however, had come when one of his weapons had been used to kill a Marine. And he had the unfortunate luck that the case had been assigned to Gibbs. After four hours in interrogation with Gibbs, their killer had willingly admitted where he had gotten his supply of weapons.

Now here they were, stuck in a storage container, with only two clips each, while Miller was supplied to the nines with handguns, shotguns, automatics, explosives, gas bombs, and who knew what else. And even worse, they weren't due back for hours, which meant no one would realize something was amiss, which meant no one would be looking for them for hours to come.

McGee heard the pause in the fire attack and the clicking of a weapon being reloaded. Taking what may be his only chance, McGee made his way around the side of the semi he was still seeking refuge behind, and fired a few more shots, only to be met with gas bomb tossed at him.
Lifting his jacket over his mouth and nose, he ran to hide behind another semi truck.

He coughed a few times, as a little of the gas had made it's way into his lungs, the few coughs though turned into a coughing fit.

'Now I know how Tony feels when he gets those chest colds' he thought, as he struggled to take in a breath around the coughing.

He heard more shots coming from the sig of his partner met with more automatic rounds as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

"Aahhhh!"

His heart knew that scream.

"Tony?!" He yelled, coughing again. No response.

"Tony?! Tony are *cough* are you *cough, cough* are you okay?!" he yelled.

Again he received no response and his pulse quickened and his blood ran cold.

'What now? Tony was hurt. If not worse. He had trusted his partner to get them through this. He was the Senior Field Agent, as he kept reminding them all. He was the one who could come up with the crazy, half baked ideas in the midst of the worse situations and manage to pull them off. What was next? Were they just meant to die here?' McGee mentally head-slapped himself as the thought entered his mind and he could almost here Tony yelling at him for thinking something so stupid.

'No, this wasn't over. This was not how everything was going to end. Not here. Not now. And not now that their arms dealer had hurt, or had possibly killed, his partner.

He set his jaw and straightened his back in a determined stance. He was going to finish this.

'Alright, think. You need a distraction. Think!'

His eyes searched hurriedly for something that could help him.

'Nothing' he realized. Just empty boxes and old trucks.

He leaned his head back against the door of the truck he was behind, tipping his head to look up at the ceiling.

'Wait a minute .....'

There, someone had hung and old flat, metal plate from one of the trucks. It had obviously been hanging there for years, due to the rust that covered the plate and chain that held it to the ceiling. It was lucky the plate hadn't collapsed already seeing as the chain looked like it was about to rust completely through.

Checking his clip, he took note of the three bullets left. He'd have to make sure he got it the first time if this was going to work.

Taking careful aim, he fired.

The bullet whizzed past the top of the truck, clipping one of the badly rusted links in the chain.

The link in the chain gave away on one side, but not the it hanging by a half a link.

'Come on!' he thought angrily. 'How unlucky can we get?'

He looked back at his last two bullets and back to the chain and sighed.

He hoped that the time he had spent in the shooting range would be enough.

Firing one last time at the link, he held his breath.

A grin blossomed across his face as the bullet hit it's target and the chain let loose the plate it had been holding for years, sending it crashing to the floor with a loud bang, smashing against one of the trucks in the process, causing the sound to echo through the building.

'It was now or never' he thought.

He threw himself around the side of the semi and his eyes scanned the room.

Miller had had to jump from behind his hiding place to avoid being hit with the plate and was now just getting to his feet.

"NCIS! Stay on the ground!" he yelled, taking aim.

Miller didn't listen. He only paused at the unexpected yell before making a mad dive for his weapon.

But McGee, making a shot that would have made Gibbs proud, sent a bullet through his heart.

He stayed tense for a moment, nerves still on end, adrenaline coursing through his system before his mind registered the blessed fact that it was over. Miller was dead and it was over.

Blinking a few times in quick procession, he slowly lowered his gun and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth. He wanted to jump for joy in victory but he didn't think he quite had it in him.

'I'll be surprised if Tony doesn't though.' he thought, smile widening.

As quickly as his smile appeared, however, it disappeared.

'Tony'.

He ran. Faster than he thought possible. Eyes scanning the room for any sign of his partner. The whole time, silently praying that he wasn't too late. He only paused when he saw a hand sticking out from behind a stack of boxes.

He skidded to a halt, turning back and rushing behind them, coming to halt at the sight in front of him.

Tony lay on the floor, pale and lifeless, in a pool of his own blood.

"Oh no," he whispered, shaking his head to break himself from his stupor, rushing forward to his partner.

"Please don't be dead." he muttered under his breath, putting his fingers to the man's neck.

He literally sagged in relief as he found a slow, but steady beat underneath his fingers.

"Thank God." he breathed.

Now sure that the other man was indeed alive, he moved to the next step of assessing the wounds.

His eyes scanned the prone form in front of him to find the source of the blood flow.

A shot to the chest and one to the leg. Jerking his jacket off he pushed it against the more pressing injury, the shot to the chest. Though it had, thankfully, missed any arteries and, more importantly, the man's heart, it was still bleeding profusely. The shot to leg had done more damage to the bone, having broken it, than it had to cause bleeding.

He pressed the material against the older man's chest tightly, but he knew it wouldn't much good if he didn't get help soon.

His own cell-phone had been damaged in the fight, having successfully been smashed when he had made a dive to avoid the rapid gun fire.

Tony's on the other hand, was out in the car.

He glanced down at Tony. He hated leaving his partner in this position, but he needed to get to the phone.

Sparing him one last, worried glance, he ran for the car.

He jerked the door open, and started searching frantically to find the phone. He couldn't help but smile in triumph when he managed to find it shoved in the glove compartment.

Hastily dialing the familiar number, he hurried back to his partners side.

"Gibbs." gave the gruff voice.

"Boss, it's McGee, we need a medvac, Tony's been shot."

It had taken a half an hour for the medvac to arrive, transporting McGee and Tony to Bethesda.

Twenty minutes for Gibbs, with Ziva in tow, to reach Bethesda and wait for his agents get there.

Two hours in surgery for the doctors to remove the bullets and fix Tony's leg, effectively saving the Italian's life.

Another three hours for Tony to wake up.

And a week for Tony to be released from the hospital and was able to go home with nothing more than a pair of crutches and a sore chest.

It would take another two weeks and a half until Tony was allowed to go back on desk duty.

And another six weeks until he would have his cast removed and would be able to return to active duty.

Though for the moment, as McGee stood at the awards ceremony with Ziva, Abby, and Ducky, applauding as Agent Dunne accepted her award, he was simply grateful thatl he and his partner had escaped the incident with their lives.

He knew Tony was too, despite his complaints about the hospital, the cast he had to wear, being on desk duty for four months, and the fact he was told to remain at home for two weeks previous to that.

"Congratulations, Agent Garson." Vance's voice drifted through Tim's thoughts, causing his head to snap up and he started to applaud, albeit late, as said agent accepted his award and walked down from the podium.

"Need to get your head in the game, McTim. Wouldn't want to let Vance catch you nodding of in class." A familiar voice said.

McGee's eyes widened and he spun around to come face to face with Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo, leaning on his crutches, looking reasonably healthy, though maybe a little tired.

"Tony?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Who else would it be, McObvious?"

"What're you doing here?" he whispered. "Shouldn't you be home?"
"I've been home for nearly a week, McGee. I needed a change of scenery." Tony replied, adjusting the set of his crutches a little as he spoke.

"You'd better have a better reason for being here than a change of scenery, Tony." McGee whispered quickly to his friend, "Both Vance and Gibbs ordered you to stay home."

They both knew that if Gibbs told you he didn't want to see you for the next two weeks until the medical leave was up, you'd better follow that order or you'd be in allot more pain than whatever you may be already feeling.

"Relax, McWorry, I have a good excuse. They won't be able to send me to the principles office this time."

"I don't think that'll work, Tony. If it was just Vance, yeah. But I don't think Gibbs will listen as easily." he replied, "Whatever it is, it had better be pretty important."

"It is." Tony assured quietly, seriously; nodding towards the podium.

Turning around McGee watched as the directors assistant handed him another award.

"Our next award," the director said, opening the case and holding it up for the rest of the room to see, "Goes to one of our Very Special Agent's for going above and beyond the call of duty in the field. Not only for catching a man who had had been eluding agencies and law enforcement officers for years, but for saving the life of his partner. The Medal of Valor goes to Special Agent Timothy McGee."

The room broke into applause, and a few whistles from Abby, but McGee didn't notice.

He just stared, mouth open, eyes wide in surprise, not making a move toward the front.

"Go on, Tim." Tony whispered quietly to him, giving him a slight push.

Stumbling the first few steps, McGee made his way up to the podium.

"Congratulations, Agent McGee." Vance said, handing him his award and shaking his hand.

McGee simply nodded his thanks before stepping back down.

He had barely made it halfway back to the little group at the back where the rest of team were waiting before Abby met up with him and threw her arms around his neck in a hug.

"Congrats, Timmy! You earned it!"

"Thanks, Abs."

She linked her arm through his and led him back, practically pulling him along in her excitement, to Ducky and Ziva.

"Excellent work, Timothy. Abigail is quite right, it was certainly well earned." the ME praised.

"Thanks, Ducky." he said with a small smile.

"Congratulations, McGee." Ziva added with a smile and he smiled back.

A few other agents came to shake his hand and offer their approval.

Finally managing to break away from the group, he started searching for his partner.

Spotting him back by the door, he squeezed through and around a few people until he was able to reach the other man.

"Told you it was important." Tony quipped as soon as McGee had reached him.

"Thank you, Tony." he said sincerely, touched that the older man had come, despite what pain and exhaustion he was sure it has caused the other man, just to see him accept his award.

"No, Tim, thank you." he replied just as sincerely, clapping him on the shoulder.

With one last smile, the other man turned and, hobbling slightly on his crutches, left.

Glancing down at the piece of silver in the velvet lined case, McGee shook his head, snapped the case shut, and placed it inside the pocket inside of his jacket.

He didn't really need it. He'd already gotten a better award and more meaningful award than the one in the case.

Getting praise from Tony, whom he considered to be his older brother, was certainly allot more valuable.

First of all, I don't know anything about weapons/explosives or different types of medals, so if I made any mistakes, I apologize.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way; hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Please, leave me a review! :D