Chapter 2

Jethro had never felt more helpless as he watched the paramedics gently roll Tony onto a backboard and rush him toward the waiting copter. The ground underneath was tinged with red and Jethro knew that DiNozzo had been penetrated by more than men. The thought of what Tony had gone through made him nauseous and he wasn't the only one. The entire team was shaken to the core.

"Jethro? They've got to take off momentarily. Are you coming along with us?"

Jethro gave Duck a jerky nod. "DiNo—" It was so damn easy to fall into calling his second in command to the lead. "McGee. You're in charge. Abbs, get me results ASAP. Ziva, liaise with the locals. Duck and I are going with Tony."

"Call us as soon as you know anything," Abby pleaded, giving him a tight hug. "You okay?" She'd been the first to arrive at his house and had seen how Jethro had been. She had been the one to insist Ziva drive, to everyone's peril. "We need to know the hospital, Gibbs."

"Yeah. Will do. When I know." Jethro brushed a kiss over her cheek and followed Ducky to the chopper.

"They've given him light sedation, just enough to make the trip relatively painless for him. Jethro, I won't sugar coat this. He is in very critical condition and bad shape. We should expect internal injuries, possibly closed-head injuries, broken bones, possibly a perforated colon, and..."

"Enough, Duck. Just stop." The possibilities were too much to contemplate right now. "Duck, did you know he was ... that he..."

"Liked men?" Ducky finished for him.

Jethro nodded, but Ducky was silent as they geared up and the chopper lifted off. He wasn't going to press, Ducky would answer when he could.

"I suspected as much, Jethro, but I think he's attracted to one single man. He's been carrying a torch for him for a long time." Ducky nodded and gave Jethro a significant look.

"Me?" Jethro asked, but he knew the answer. He'd heard it in Tony's voice tonight, saw it in Tony's eyes.

Ducky nodded. "The way he looks at you goes beyond simple hero worship and a hunger for respect. He has feelings of an even more personal nature for you."

Jethro shook his head, upset that he'd been so blind. He might not have had the professional training, but he'd studied human behavior and body language. The fact that he'd never seen this in all the years he'd worked with Tony shook him up. "I never knew, Duck. Why didn't he ... why did he put himself in danger?"

"Why does anyone do anything? Why were you drunk tonight? Which ex were you trying to forget? I don't know, Jethro, but I'm certain he was careful. Anthony wasn't the type—"

"Isn't. Isn't, Ducky. Don't talk about him like he isn't here. Don't do that! Have hope. He's right here and he can hear you"

Ducky nodded, placing a gentle hand on Jethro's shoulder. "Calm down, old friend. He needs us strong. Anyhow, what I was saying is that Anthony may have an active sex life, but he hasn't been known to take unnecessary chances."

Jethro shifted so that he was closer to the stretcher, ignoring the glare he got from the EMT. Tony was going to know someone was there and it was going to be him, Tony's boss, the guy who had recruited DiNozzo in the first place.

This was a lot harder than Kate. With Kate it had been over in a second, the regrets lingered, but with Tony it had been agonizing and slow, from the calls, to the drive down to Richmond, to freeing him, and if Tony lived, it was going to be a long recovery with permanent scars. It was hell, and the waiting had only begun.

And then there was the guilt. Tony hadn't called him, Jethro was sure of it. And when Abby had called his cell phone, he'd had a few too many bourbons in his system. Even now, he was a little fuzzy around the edges. One of his agents had needed him and he'd been getting drunk.

"Which hospital?" Jethro asked Ducky. "Bethesda?"

Ducky shook his head. "Far too critical for that, dear boy. There is a Level One Trauma Center nearby. Jethro, time is of the essence."

"I know, Duck," he said roughly. He focused on DiNozzo instead, pale and sweaty, eyes closed, breathing harsh. How was he supposed to handle this? Would needling the kid rally him or did he need a softer touch? Dammit, Jethro knew he wasn't any good at this stuff.

"Come on, DiNozzo. Free helicopter ride and you're sleeping on the job." Duck grasped his arm and Jethro fought the urge to shake it off. Duck was his oldest and best friend and had everyone's best interests at heart. Jethro knew that but in the absence of anyone else to strike out at, his friend was going to get the brunt. Who knew, maybe Duck expected it.

"Don't, Duck. Just don't." Jethro glared at the arm until Ducky removed it and then he leaned in, talking softly to Tony. Jethro closed his eyes and listened to the patter of the pilot and hospital, but when they turned to Tony's condition, he yanked the headset off. He didn't want the cold hard facts, not yet. Not yet. Not when they had to help DiNozzo fight to live.

"Jethro?" Ducky tried again. "We'll find a way to help him. Do you have his medical power of attorney? There will be decisions that have to be made ... And though I am his personal physician, I am unable to make those decisions. If you don't have it and Abigail or the director do, we must get them to the hospital and—"

"Enough talk, Duck. I'm it. And I want you to consult."

Ducky winced and Jethro saw Ducky struggling for words and he knew what his friend was going to ask. "Don't ask it, Duck! We're not discussing that." Jethro reached over and grabbed a handful of Ducky's jacket. "Don't say a word, Doctor Mallard. He's going to be okay."

Abby was rarely on scene and the gory nature of it and the fact that it was Tony had shaken her up. She wrapped her arms around herself, cold now that Tim had stepped away. They had gloves and Tim was already bagging what he could. She should try to help.

"Do we need some bigger bags and stuff, Tim?" Abby had to feel useful for Tony's sake.

"Yeah." Tim looked over at the knot of local police. "Abby, get their crime lab involved. We'll need some evidence bags for the big stuff." She noticed he didn't call them what they were—pitchforks. Instruments of torture.

Abby stumbled off to where Ziva was speaking animatedly to a plainclothes guy. At least Ziva was showing emotion, though Abby was worried about Tim ... and Gibbs ... and all of them. Tony was the heart of the team and they couldn't take losing him.