A/N: It's done! I so hope you like it. Sheila

Letting Go

Chapter 9

Tony lifted his head to a blackness that stole more than his sight. His chest constricted and he realized it was smoke. Dirt and other particles clung to his hair and face, and he had to pull debris from his mouth. Around him he heard groans, and as his mind cleared, he realized he was lying on top of a person. He looked into the haze. "Boss!"

Legs shifted beneath him, and he found a shoulder. "Boss."

He was met with a groan. He felt for a face and found a head with little hair. He nodded. Fornell. He patted the man's face, but he got nothing coherent. At least the man was breathing.

He crawled past him, unsure of where he was or which direction he should travel. "Boss!"

He hugged a wall and kept moving. The smoke was thicker and he saw an eerie glow in the distance. His throat and nose were thick, and he coughed wildly. Then a hand gripped his forearm. "Boss?"

He tumbled toward the hand and found Gibbs lying sidelong. There was blood on his face, but DiNozzo couldn't see well enough to know how bad it was. "You okay?"

Gibbs breathed in huffs. "Get…help."

Tony nodded. "Light…this way."

Hand gripped him again. "Fire!"

Tony struggled to sit up. Gibbs pulled him down. "Go…away from flame."

Tony's responsibilities widened. He grabbed the front of Gibbs' shirt and tried to pull him up. "Can you walk, Boss?"

Gibbs slapped at him. "Go! Get help."

Tony's world began to spiral. He had Gibbs here and Fornell. In the direction of the fire was certainly where they would find McGee and Ziva and there were others. It seemed counter to everything he knew to crawl away from them all. If his experience in Baltimore had taught him anything, it was to never leave anyone behind.

Suddenly, there were shouts, and giant men were outlined in the distance. Tony sagged against Gibbs. They breathed like aliens, but Tony recognized the distinctive outline of firefighters. One of them leaned over with a flashlight while another one hooked him under his arms. He started to tell them what was happening, but they ignored him, hustling him down a hallway. They opened a door to the stairs and settled him on the stairs while they went back to grab the others. He coughed roughly into the concrete, and then another firefighter was there, shoving a mask over his face. He wrestled with him for a moment, but then gave in to the richness of the oxygen.

Seconds later, Gibbs was dragged into the stairwell and then Fornell. Tony's head began to clear and he pulled the mask off. "There are three troopers in the hallway, and two agents in a room! One of the troopers is the bomber!"

The firefighters ignored him as they tended to Fornell and Gibbs. Law enforcement wasn't priority for the firefighters. They were only interested in getting everyone out of there. They were laying Gibbs on a stretcher when Tony lurched past them and back into the hallway. The smoke was wet as fire hoses sprayed the walls around him. Arms grabbed at him, but he pulled toward the door to the suite. One firefighter cornered him and he pantomimed two people and pointed in the door. The firefighter nodded. The door to the suite was wrecked and Tony merely had to kick at the twisted metal to make a large enough space for him. Inside the room, it was eerily quiet. A small fire burned next to a window and another one near the bar. Otherwise, there was little sense as what would have passed for furniture anywhere. "McGee! Ziva!"

Behind him, a hose erupted at the two fires and someone put an ax through the windowpane. Crouched and coughing, Tony hugged a wall as he searched for signs of his friends. A firefighter grabbed at him again, but Tony kicked him away. Then he held up two fingers. The firefighters seemed resigned to his presence at this point. The bedroom doors were open, but Tony could see nothing but smoke. There were more sounds of glass breaking as firefighters continued to liberate windows.

Then there were shouts from one of the bedrooms, and Tony stumbled forward. He got to the doorway, and saw a firefighter pulling Ziva up from behind a bed. He lifted her like a limp doll and he gripped the doorframe. "Ziva!"

Another firefighter was dragging McGee's body out as well, and Tony's knees buckled beneath him as the blackness took him again.

….

He woke up coughing, every hack burning his raw throat. The walls were white, and he couldn't place his surroundings. He was hooked up to oxygen and started wrestling with the tubes. An IV got in the way, and he ripped at it, but hands caught his. "Hey, hey DiNozzo! Simmer down."

He looked up and saw Fornell, his face riddled with cuts and bruises. His breathing slowed and his eyes scanned the room. There was another curtain and he raised his head. Fornell nodded. "Yup. Gibbs is getting a little rest. Broke his shoulder. They had to do a little surgery on him. He's still out."

Tony lay back and looked at the ceiling, and then his teammates' faces popped into his head. He lurched forward and began warring with his IV. Fornell grabbed his hands again. "Listen, you stubborn fool! Everyone is going to be fine. Truth is that you're in the worst shape of all of us. Smoke inhalation. You can die from that, ya' idiot. You must've thought the firefighters were too stupid to notice your teammates. They train for this shit, you know."

Tony watched him intently.

"Ziva and McGee pinpointed Morris' backpack the moment Gibbs told them he was the assassin. Ziva had hustled McGee into the bedroom and they were taking up position behind the bed when the bomb blew. Ziva and McGee both have concussions as well as some cuts and bruises, but all of you are going to make it."

He relaxed his hands and let them drop to his sides. His eyes grew heavy and he closed them.

…..

"I don't think it's reasonable at all!"

"I can do this!"

"I'm thinking Duck is right on this one, McGee. Tobias, I can't believe you'd pull a stunt like this."

"Really? It will probably take three months to get this back on the court calendar. You think McGee will last that long? Please! I had to run herd over his detail for only two weeks and you remember how that went. Someone's bound to kill him and it might not be a Nazi."

"I'm not going back into protection!"

"Like I would give you a choice."

Tony blinked his eyes and lifted his head. He pulled off the oxygen mask, and then he clawed at the curtain separating him from the voices.

"He's awake!" Ziva was the first one there. There was a bandaged cut on her forehead and she had a battery of cuts on her arms and neck. She leaned over him. "Put your oxygen back on."

He batted it away. "I can breathe, Ziva."

Ducky was there. "You were a fool to risk this much smoke. Have you no memory? Your lungs are already scarred. Do you want a COPD diagnosis? It'll be the end of your career."

"What?" Tony frowned.

Duck," Gibbs limped over and put his one good hand on his shoulder. "Back off on the fear a little. He looks good."

"I'm okay, right?"

"You're going to need a few weeks of respiratory therapy and a promise to me that you'll not stay away from burning buildings."

"It wasn't exactly my choice to be in an explosion. What are you guys fighting about?"

Gibbs looked at Fornell. "We should take it outside."

"I want to know."

McGee stayed near the door, bruises and cuts stark against his pale skin. "It's a done deal, Boss. The prosecutor already worked it out with the judge."

"What's a done deal?" Tony tried to rise up on his elbows.

"We can wait a couple more days. I want to be there." Gibbs hobbled back to his bed.

McGee shook his head. "Judge says he'll declare a mistrial if testimony doesn't resume tomorrow."

"You're in no shape to handle hours of testimony," Ducky fussed. "You were in an explosion less than 24 hours ago. You have a concussion!"

"The judge says he'll allow breaks if I start to get foggy."

"And how will you explain the bruises? The jury will want to know."

McGee leaned against the wall. "We've agreed that the jury will be told I was in a car accident. They've been sequestered so they don't know about the explosion."

Gibbs looked at Fornell. "I don't like it."

"I don't either, Jethro, but we don't want a mistrial."

"And you're going to protect him? Come on, Tobias, you're just a few hours out of the hospital yourself."

"Yeah, I already had this conversation with your director. We're all taking this craziness very seriously. Ohio state patrol and all other locals have been kicked off this detail. I got a squad of terrorist guys from my director going over the courthouse as we speak. Plus, we flew in the best the U.S. Marshal Service has to offer, and I don't mean a couple of guys. We got no less than ten of the best outside this hospital room right now. They're going to take him and disappear. He's not going to be on anyone's radar until court tomorrow."

"And you're telling me that Vance okayed this?"

"I talked to him over MTAC and I'm telling you that the veins in Vance's forehead are getting a workout. He and the FBI director and the director of the Marshal Service have been in conversation. Hell, Jethro, I must've argued with 35 people today so give me a damn break!"

Gibbs slapped the nightstand. "He should be with us!"

"Ain't none of you in fighting shape? Wish him the best. I'm going to watch him like he was my own."

"It's okay, Boss." The look on his face suggested anything but.

"I want to see who's in charge of this detail."

Fornell nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. Hold on a minute."

He returned a moment later with a beefy man with a crew cut and a boxer's nose. The man nodded at Gibbs and spoke with a deep Southern drawl. "I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Parker. I'll be taking care of your man."

It was too awkward to shake hands with his right shoulder trussed up and so Gibbs fixed eyes on him. "You're taking one of mine, and I remember names and faces."

Parker grinned. "With a greeting like that, you gotta be Corps."

"Gunnery Sergeant. Gulf War. You?"

"Special Ops. Iraq and Afghanistan. Four tours in total."

Gibbs stared at him another moment, and then he turned his attention to McGee. "You do whatever this man tells you. You hear me?!"

McGee nodded. Ziva hurried over. "I will go along to make sure."

Parker shook his head. "Sorry, Ma'am. Logistics only allow for agent Fornell."

McGee gave her a squeeze. "You saved my life yesterday. Let's give this guy a turn."

"Tim."

McGee looked at Tony. "I got this, partner. If I get stuck, I'll just imagine what you would do…"

Tony grinned and pointed. "And then do the opposite. See, I knew you were going to say that."

"I'll make you proud, Tony. You too, Boss." McGee didn't wait for a response. He slipped out the door and Parker followed.

Fornell looked at Gibbs. "Like he's my own."

Then he was gone too.

…..

McGee stared down at the huge rack of baby ribs straining the confines of a Styrofoam container.

"Come on, McGee. I swear these are the best ribs I've ever eaten." Fornell wiped sauce off his face.

McGee looked around the cabin of the plane, shades on all the windows pulled. "Are we really in Memphis?"

"That's my best guess. I know he headquarters out of Memphis, and I would imagine this food is from his favorite joint."

"So we're just going to sit on the tarmac until morning and then fly back to Cincinnati?"

Fornell nodded. "Kind of brilliant actually."

"That's a lot of gas."

"You let us worry about the expenses. You don't like your barbeque?"

McGee shrugged. "My head is pounding, and my gut is definitely not interested in greasy ribs."

"You are missing out, my friend. You need to eat. Take a piece of toast. I got people to answer to, McGee. You worried about tomorrow?"

"I've been on the stand before. Prosecutors have said that I get a little robotic though. Stiff."

Fornell thought for a moment. "Yeah, I can see that. Don't worry about that tomorrow. Don't try to guess what she's up to. Just be you. She's going to try and rattle you. Being robotic might not be a bad thing."

McGee grinned. "You don't think I could raise the shade just a little? See if I recognize the airport?"

A dark sleepy head rose up two seats back. "You do that, son, and I'll handcuff you to your seat until mornin'."

McGee's eyes widened. "Got it, sir."

"You got a nice bunk there. I would advise you to lie down and get some sleep."

"Yes sir."

Fornell chuckled. "And you thought Gibbs could bust balls."

….

"You sure you don't want another break?"

McGee sighed. "No ma'am."

"You've already had two today. That accident must've really taken a lot out of you."

McGee said nothing. His head hurt and there were times when her perfect face had started to blur.

"Agent McGee?"

"I don't believe you had a question, ma'am. It sounded like an observation."

"Ah yes," she gave the jury a look. "You and accidents…or mishaps. You have a lot of them, correct?"

"No ma'am."

"I could count them. For instance, there was the moment you put down your gun at the gas station."

McGee cocked his head but said nothing.

"No comment."

"Again ma'am, I didn't hear a question."

"That was a mistake, wasn't it?"

McGee swallowed. His answers needed to be short and succinct. "I wouldn't characterize that as a mistake, an accident, or a mishap."

"You wouldn't? Agent McGee, was that correct protocol?"

"No ma'am."

"Then it was an incorrect action- a mistake."

McGee shifted in his seat. Her face was blurring for him again. "No, ma'am, it was a decision. There is no protocol that covers all situations."

"And shooting a man in the back?"

McGee narrowed his eyes. "A dangerous perpetrator was fleeing the scene and I fired."

"With a rifle you stole from an old farmer whom you assaulted, correct?"

McGee leaned forward. "No ma'am. It was a shotgun."

"You assaulted a farmer and stole his shotgun, correct?"

"No ma'am. I took a shotgun from a farmer and returned to rescue my partner. Local authorities returned the shotgun with an apology as I was unable to do so. The farmer was not harmed."

"Why were you in the hospital?"

"Well, I was kidnapped. During that time, I was beaten and cut repeatedly with a knife. I needed hospital care."

"What about your emotional well being?"

"You are wondering about my ten days at the Bethesda Naval Post Traumatic Stress Unit?"

"You had a breakdown, Agent McGee, didn't you?"

He shook his head. "I don't really know what constitutes a breakdown, ma'am."

She sighed. "You were mentally incapacitated, correct?"

"I am still not sure what that means."

She tossed her head and headed for the bench. "Your honor, permission to treat this witness as hostile."

"Objection. She is asking the witness to comment on conditions of which he has no expertise."

"Sustained. Counselor, I believe that Agent McGee is answering your questions to the best of his ability."

"He's being evasive, your honor."

The prosecutor stepped forward. "He's being precise."

The judge looked over at McGee. "It's 3 p.m., Agent. Considering your recent accident, I think we'll stop for the day so you can get some rest."

McGee wanted to protest. He was desperate for the whole thing to be over. He caught Fornell's eye but the older man shook his head.

…..

The U.S. Marshal led Gibbs to an empty office in the hospital. There was a plasma screen, and the marshal explained directions and closed the door behind him. Gibbs hit some keys and Fornell's face came up on the screen. "Tobias, you sure this is secure?"

"The marshals know what they're doing. How are you doing?"

Gibbs' face was still pinched with the pain of his broken shoulder, but he shrugged. "I'm doing. How's McGee? I tried to get to the courthouse today, but everyone here had a fit. I'm going tomorrow with or without permission."

"The kid did good, Jethro. You would've been proud. He stayed even, stuck to short responses, and she couldn't trap him."

Gibbs nodded. "That's a good job."

"He did good, but we're having a little problem now and I think we need your help."

"Tell me."

"McGee's a bundle of anxiety. He needs to rest. Testimony wore him out, but he's perseverating—"

"What are you? A psychologist? What does perseverating mean?"

"You know, he's worried, anxious. He's pacing all over the place and over-thinking things. He thinks he lied on the stand because he said putting down his gun wasn't a mistake. He's overtired and I can't seem to calm him down. He needs to hear from his dear old dad. Can you talk to him?"

Gibbs had to resist the urge to smile at the parent reference. "Bring him in."

McGee came into the room and Fornell whispered something to him and left the room. Gibbs could see the worry in his agent's eyes. He knew this McGee. This was the guy that would work 36 hours straight on something that might usually take three people to complete and then worry he should've done it in 30. McGee got like this when he was too tired. At times like this, he was incapable of seeing the accomplishment in his work.

McGee leaned over the screen but didn't sit. "Hi Boss! How you doing? That shoulder looks pretty beat up. Remember when you injured it pushing me out of the way of a car. Probably hurts quite a bit. Should you be up?"

"Sit down, McGee."

McGee dropped into the chair.

"You're the one that needs to be resting. If Ducky found you bouncing around like that, he'd shut this whole thing down. Now, what's got you so worried?"

McGee stared into the camera. "I don't like some of my answers from today."

"Tobias says you knocked it out of the park."

"I don't think I was credible, Boss. I said putting down the gun wasn't a mistake. I said it was a decision made in a moment that can't be planned for. Who says that? I think the jury sees me as some kind of whack job."

"Tim, if anyone thought you were a whack job, Fornell would've been briefing me on that and we'd be having a much different conversation. Instead, he's telling me that you're the best thing since sliced bread."

"But I keep going over it in my head-"

"Stop! You and that damn brain. Stop replaying it. It's done. Move forward."

"Really?"

"Look at me, Tim. Did you do the best you could back at that gas station?"

"Yeah."

"Then you move on. She's trying to rattle you and you're letting her. Knock it off already."

"Yeah."

"I'm going to be there tomorrow."

McGee shook his head. "Ah Boss, you're all banged up. Stay in bed. Fornell's been a big help."

"No way. Someone from your team is going to be there. Tony can't go because he was a witness, but he was restless as all hell today, worrying about you. It'll help him relax to know someone is there. Besides, being his roommate is no picnic. I could use the break. I'm coming no matter what you say."

McGee nodded. "Get some rest and say hi to everyone from me."

"You too. You look like crap. I expect to see you rested tomorrow. You hear me?"

"Yeah."

….

Gibbs walked back into the room to find Tony breathing through a nebulizer, Ziva hovering over him. Tony saw Gibbs and pushed the mouthpiece off. "How's he doing?"

"He's good."

"That doesn't tell me anything," he said as Ziva tried to maneuver the mouthpiece back over his face. He pushed her away.

Gibbs shrugged. "He's McGee. He's nervous and second guessing himself, but that's…McGee."

Ziva climbed on the bed and straddled him and Tony howled. "Stop it, woman! I'm trying to listen to the boss!"

"You do not need to listen with your mouth," she said holding the mouthpiece over his face. Then she looked at Gibbs. "The respiratory therapist was here."

Ducky stepped in, saw Ziva on top of Tony, and barked, "Ziva, get off him!"

She stepped down. "He is not taking this seriously! He refused to nebulize."

"I was doing it!"

"You took off the mask three times even before Gibbs came in," she retorted. "Did you not hear the therapist?!"

Gibbs turned to Ducky. "What did the therapist say?"

"Tony is going to need to do therapy for more than a few weeks. The therapist doesn't see him progressing as he should. It's important that he take this seriously."

Gibbs turned to Tony. "You put that damn thing on and shut up."

"Someone needs to tell Ziva the truth about her nursing skills," he complained as she fit the mask over his face.

Gibbs ignored him. "What do we need to do, Duck?"

"He'll nebulize at work so we can monitor him, he'll need to do breathing exercises, and he'll need to see a therapist three times a week."

Tony started to protest but Gibbs shook his head. "You say another word, DiNozzo, and Ducky and I will give Ziva free rein over your care."

Tony lay back quietly and Ziva leaned against his bed. "The therapist says we can get him up to full health if we are consistent and aggressive."

Gibbs nodded. "We'll stay on top of it."

"McGee's okay?"

"Yeah. I'll go to court tomorrow and provide some support."

"Jethro!"

"It's a done deal, Duck. I already told the detail to set it up. You and Ziva ride herd over him, and I'll see to McGee."

For a long moment, he stared at DiNozzo. Then he pointed a finger. "You take this seriously. You hear me?"

Tony nodded slowly as he breathed in the medicated oxygen from the machine.

….

Today, McGee looked at Watkins. He wanted the anger to be more powerful than the fear, and looking at bastard in his rented suit did that for him.

"You testified yesterday that you were beaten and abused the night that you were cut. You were also drunk, correct?"

McGee blinked. "No, I was not."

She gestured with her hand. "Mr Watkins testified that your captors poured hard alcohol down your throat, and it would certainly explain your erratic behavior."

He reddened. "The man named Karl poured whiskey down my throat once. It was not enough to get me drunk."

"You were frightened, beaten, and you had been drinking. When they held you down and cut you, you struggled, correct?"

"Yes."

"Sounds chaotic. Your judgment impaired from the alcohol and the abuse. You don't really know who cut you, do you?"

The anger rose in him. Watkins sat at the table like a choirboy with his hands clasped in front of him. "I know exactly who cut me."

"That's hard to believe-"

"No, it's not!" he interrupted. "I'm a trained federal agent. I know how to stay focused. Watkins marked me with a knife in the shape of a swastika. The party was his. He was running things."

"If they held you down, how do you know who cut you? How do you know he wasn't a victim too? You went along with things to stay alive. He did the same."

"I was there! I heard him! I saw him! He is the man who cut me and directed the beatings."

She turned to the judge. "The witness has become combative. I am concerned that he is still not well. Perhaps, a recess is in order."

McGee tried to control the shaking in his hands. She was pushing for another day of testimony. She was hoping to break him.

"Agent McGee, is this a good time for a break?"

He looked for Gibbs in the courtroom and found him against the back wall. The events of the last few days had taken a toll on Gibbs. He was actually beginning to look his age. He locked eyes with him for a moment and then turned to the judge. "I'm doing fine, your honor. I would really just like to finish.

"Okay, your call. Counselor, do you have any more questions for him?"

In the last six hours, she pulled him in one direction and then other. She displayed pictures of his wound blown up for the jury and forced him to look at it. She'd continually tried to paint Watkins' experience as similar to his. Now, she was trying to portray him as a drunk. It was grueling and maddening, and his head pounded worse than he could ever remember.

She looked at him, cocking her blonde head. "You say you were not drunk despite your actions: The escape, stealing a farmer's gun, running a car truck into an SUV filled with people, and then shooting a man in the back. You had to be disarmed by FBI agents."

"I was not intoxicated."

She shook her head. "The evidence suggests otherwise."

McGee leaned forward. "Can a handcuffed, drunk man pickpocket his captor and orchestrate his own escape?"

She sighed and looked away. "Nothing more for this witness."

The judge looked at the prosecution. "Do you wish to redirect?"

"Nope," she said from her table with a satisfied grin.

"You are dismissed, Agent McGee."

He stood, holding the railing to hide his exhaustion and the pain in his head. When he got to the door, deputy U.S. Marshal Parker took his arm and hurried him from the room. Gibbs and Fornell followed.

…..

"It's nice to be out of the hospital. Of course, now we're incarcerated in a jet," said Tony as he dealt cards for another game of cribbage with Ducky.

"Just waiting for the verdict to come in." Gibbs said as he paged through a book. He glanced over at McGee who was slumped in a seat with a wet cloth across his face. "How you doing, Tim?"

"The vicodin is kicking in," he mumbled.

"You did good work today."

A grin started to grow. "Thanks Boss."

"Hey Parker, how about we go to Chicago for dinner?"

The marshal looked up from his magazine. "If we don't get a verdict in the next hour, we're going airborne. Can't promise you a location, DiNozzo."

"I never knew you guys did this with protection."

Parker sighed and marked his page. "The plane is on a tarmac and easy to protect. Cheaper than putting ten deputies in a hotel and it doesn't endanger civilians. Your Nazis like bombs. I can't imagine there's a hotel in all of Ohio that would take you Navy cops right now. Until the bad guys start using fighter jets, this is a pretty good option for short term details."

"I used to think about being a marshal," Tony said as he counted his hand and moved his peg.

"Well, that Marshal Service IQ test can be a real stumbling block for a feller like you, DiNozzo."

Everyone laughed including Tony. "You got some potential there to be a comedian, Parker."

"Naw," he drawled. "I prefer a job that's low paying with long hours and zero appreciation."

Tony smiled. "Add almost no recognition of your agency as law enforcement and you have NCIS."

"Yeah, I knew I was goin' to like you fellers. Took a lot of convincing though to get me on board. I'm mostly supervisory these days. In fact, I'd already turned down the request from the director when Lenny called and asked me to take it on as a personal favor."

Gibbs put his book down. "Who's Lenny?"

"My big brother. The ambitious one in the family."

Gibbs blinked. "Leonard Parker? That's Lieutenant General Parker, commander over at Quantico."

"Yeah, that's him."

McGee sat up and pulled the cloth off his face. "How did he know?"

"Your director called him. Seems he wanted the best and my name came up and he was pretty insistent."

"I see." Gibbs took off his reading glasses.

"Lenny says you all tried to help a girl named…Evie. He's got a soft spot for girls. He lost his own little girl to cancer when she was ten. He's taken a real interest in what happened to her, and he knows you all went the extra mile to try and help this girl. He sent me the video and everything. That right there convinced me that I needed to carve out some time for this."

Tony looked at McGee. "There was no video."

Parker could sense the tension in the room. "I don't mean to pick at a wound. Just thought you should know that people appreciated how hard you tried."

"We never knew there was a video," Gibbs said. "There were a few cell phone attempts but they were blurry at best."

"The high school is in line with a flight path to the airport. There's a satellite feed on the area at all times."

Everyone got quiet. Parker sighed. "Well, I sure killed this party."

Gibbs looked at him. "We want to see it."

"You sure?"

He looked at McGee and DiNozzo and they both nodded. Parker got up and manipulated a remote. A plasma screen came down in the cabin. It took him a couple of minutes to access his account, and then a video came. It looked straight down on McGee, Tony, and Evie.

McGee let out a breath and stood. Tony also got up. Evie stood on the ledge and DiNozzo was gesturing with his arms, moving closer bit by bit. On her blind side, McGee crept in closer. Then came a moment when the girl's body relaxed and she started to lean forward. Tony reached out a hand. The girl's foot slipped on the back of the ledge and she fell backward, McGee leaping forward.

Everyone sucked in breath. For a second it looked like McGee was going over the edge with her, but then DiNozzo was there. They battled for a few seconds and then she was gone. Tony let out a whimper and McGee covered his mouth. Gibbs signaled for Parker to shut it down. He turned to his team. "Painful to watch."

Ziva nodded as she wiped at tears.

"How does this help us?" Gibbs watched McGee and Tony closely.

McGee looked at Tony. "We did absolutely everything we could. There's nothing to second guess anymore, Tony."

Tony nodded. "Yeah, shame on us for turning it on each other."

"Even without the video, we figured it out though, didn't we?"

Tony opened his arms. "Come here, McGeek."

Tim pursed his lips. "Please don't kiss me."

"Don't make me chase you around this plane."

McGee gave in and accepted the hug. He winced as Tony planted a wet one on his temple. "You're stuck with me, Probie."

McGee extricated himself. "Okay. Okay. I get it."

Tony smiled. "Say something sweet, Timmy."

McGee rolled his eyes. "I have a headache."

"Save that one for the bedroom, McLovin'."

Everyone laughed as McGee retreated to his seat, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"You got an interesting bunch, Gibbs." Parker said.

"Oh yeah."

The door to the cockpit opened and Fornell came out. Parker looked up. "Are we ready for takeoff?"

Fornell shook his head. "It only took the jury two hours."

"And?"

"Guilty on all charges."

"Thank God!" Tony threw his arms up. "Let's go home. I am ready for everything to go back to normal."

Gibbs nodded at Parker. "Mind dropping us off?"

Parker got up and headed for the cockpit.

"Speaking of normal, you haven't done your breathing exercises yet today." Ziva frowned at him.

"I'm in the middle of a game here."

Ducky sat back. "The game can wait."

"No!"

Gibbs gave him a warning look. "We had a deal. Ducky is going to make sure you do your nebulizer. Ziva's in charge of your exercises, and McGee is making sure you get to your therapy appointments every week."

"I'm a grown man, Boss."

"And we're your team. A while back, I told you that the team doesn't work without McGee. Same goes for you."

DiNozzo sighed. "Alright Nurse Ratchet, get over here. Time to do my exercises."

Ziva smiled. "I always wanted to be a nurse."

"Yes, it is certainly the world's loss."

She pulled him to the back of the plane. "I note your sarcasm, my friend."

Gibbs sat down across from McGee. "Head still bothering you?"

McGee shook his head. "Doing fine, Boss. You know me. Just didn't want any more hugs."

"You okay with me sticking you with his appointments?"

He glanced back at Tony and Ziva arguing at the back of the plane and he nodded. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

….

The End