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With the layers of warm blankets wrapped tightly around him, Tony DiNozzo didn’t want to move an inch. But he really couldn’t help it a second later. “hitchhh! Itchhh!” Oh God. That was all he needed: a head cold on top of hypothermia.
“Is that normal?” McGee asked Ducky, a hand on the medical examiner’s shoulder. “That sneezing, I mean?” He hovered on the edge of the scene, anxiously fingering the metal ring on the front of his collar around his neck for reassurance.
“Oh yes,” Ducky said. “Just clearing out a little of the remaining water, I expect. Likely it’s a good sign that his nose is in proper working order again. Would you like a hanky, my dear boy?” Ducky asked Tony, fishing around for something in his bag.
Shivering uncontrollably, Tony just managed to give his head a little shake. He didn’t care about a couple sneezes, even if they had shaken him enough to dislodge the blankets a little. He didn’t care about anything except how his top was doing. He wanted desperately to ask after Gibbs, but his teeth absolutely refused to stop chattering.
Instead of a handkerchief, Ducky pulled a thermometer out of his bag. Tony cringed a little as Ducky held it up. It didn’t look like one of the long, pointy thermometers Ducky used to determine the time of death in corpses, but Tony still didn’t want that thing in his mouth. Even frozen half to death he knew that much.
Ducky leaned closer, and to Tony it almost seemed like a transformation before his eyes. Dr. Mallard went from casual and informative to commanding. It wasn’t often that Gibbs’ sub, a switch by nature, showed his more toppy side. When he spoke, his voice was firm, calm. “Anthony, you’re going to have to stop your teeth from chattering or you’ll snap this thermometer in two.”
For once, Tony was glad not to be able to stop shivering. He closed his eyes, feeling his body shake, even though he hugged the blanket around him and held the heat pack he’d been given against his bare chest. Everything seemed so white and cold out, even with his eyes closed. There was snow and ice everywhere, though the umbrella McGee was holding at least kept the snow off Tony now. He tried to listen for clues as to where Gibbs was and how he was. But the rush of wind alone filled his ears; it sounded like the storm was picking up. They’d have to leave soon. But Tony was damned if he’d go anywhere before he made sure Gibbs was all right. No matter how bad he felt, Gibbs was probably ten times worse.
“Come now,” Ducky said, back again to the nurturing, reasoning tone. “If your temperature isn’t high enough, we can’t move you. And we won’t be able to tell what your temp is unless you open your mouth and keep your jaw still.”
Tony couldn’t care less about his body temperature. It was Gibbs he was worried about. The man had been so pale and almost blue when Tony had pulled him out of the frozen lake. He had seen Gibbs asleep before; the man looked peaceful when he was asleep. But when he had come out of the lake, Gibbs had looked distressed and weak. Tony didn’t want to be moved. He didn’t want to leave the scene, not if Gibbs was still nearby. He had arrived on the end of that man’s leash and, damn it, that’s how he wanted to leave. His jaw jiggled up and down, molars crashing against each other repeatedly, loudly.
Ducky sighed, apparently exasperated with him. Tony guessed he couldn’t blame him; Ducky was used to dealing with the dead, not the mostly-dead. After all, mostly-dead was slightly alive. That was from a movie, Tony thought, but he couldn’t remember which one at the moment.
Tony summoned all the strength he had within him and actually spoke. “G-g-g-gi-ih-ib-b-b-b-s-s-s.” In answer to the word that barely made it out as a word rather than loosely connected, chattering sounds, Ducky and McGee exchanged a worried look. That was all Tony needed to see. He threw himself forward, trying to gain the leverage needed to get to his feet and go to wherever the hell Gibbs was.
It only took one firm hand of Ducky’s to keep Tony down and in place. Tony tried to push past it, but his body gave an especially great shiver, and he hugged the thick blankets more closely around himself in reaction. But he still wouldn’t open his mouth to the thermometer.
“Anthony, I’m just trying to take care of you.”
Shaking his head, “T-t-ak-k-ke c-c-c-ca-re of-f-f G-g-i-i-bb-s-s.”
Ducky’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, my dear boy. He’ll be all right. He has three EMTs working on him, much more expert care than a he’d get from man who hasn’t been to medical school in decades. He’s in good hands. And Ziva already left in the ambulance with Sergeant Nelson, who is also expected to pull through.”
Tony had almost forgotten about Nelson, who had gone into the lake first. Gibbs had gone after the man and, when they hadn’t emerged after the longest minute in the history of humanity, Tony had gone in after them. Tony cringed, remembering the sting of the icy water as it came over him. At first, he felt warm and invincible, pushing past the pain. And then something in him clenched; or maybe the cold fastened onto him. His limbs had moved more slowly than they should have. His lungs had burned and he knew better than to open his eyes. After searching around for ages, he had felt something like hair, and then a head, and Tony had grabbed Gibbs by the shirt collar and just pulled. And pulled. And pulled. And he hadn’t stopped, even when his head broke the surface through one of the many cracks in the ice covering the lake. He hadn’t stopped even as he reached the edge of the lake. He hadn’t stopped, even when all three of them were lying on the snowbank. He had only stopped when he lost consciousness. He had been chilled to the bone, sure all his limbs would fall off, but they hadn’t.
“G-gibbs-s,” Tony said again, not shivering quite as much. He looked past Ducky, into McGee’s scared eyes. If anyone could understand what he felt, it was McGee. “P-probie. I n-need to s-s-see…”
McGee hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Tony. You’re looking better but—”
“Tim? P-please?”
McGee closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay,” he said, a bit reluctantly. “Okay, let Ducky take your temperature, and then I’ll help you over to where they’ve got Gibbs.”
Tony didn’t care too much for the bargain, but he took it. And he could tell from the way the man kept fingering his collar that McGee also really wanted to go check on their top as well. Trying not to think about where the thermometer might have been before, Tony opened his mouth and tried to keep his teeth from chattering further. He pursed his lips and pressed his tongue down. He clenched his hands into fists and hugged the warm pack closer.
After Ducky pulled it out, he looked at it immediately. “96.7 degrees,” he said, nodding. “Quite an improvement. You still have a ways to go before you get to normal.”
A deal was a deal, though, and it didn’t matter how far from normal his temperature was. He tugged on McGee’s pants leg until the probie helped him up. McGee seemed to have trouble at first managing both Tony and the umbrella, but then Ducky squeezed in on Tony’s other side and helped support the man’s weight.
Tony found it difficult to walk, not because the cold had made him lose motor coordination—he had pretty much regained that—but because the snow was so deep. “Stupid s-snow,” he said. “This is Virg-ginia, n-not Alaska.”
“Could have fooled me,” McGee said, trying to humor the man as they approached the ambulance.
Gibbs certainly could have looked better. He lay still on a stretcher inside the ambulance. He was wrapped in twice as many blankets as Tony. He had one hand free, though, with which he was drinking something warm from a thermos. He looked pale and weak, and not at all like Gibbs, which worried Tony. But at least the man was conscious. He looked up at Tony and motioned to Tony to come over.
Tony didn’t hesitate. He threw himself forward, scrambled up into the ambulance, squeezed past an EMT, and knelt down next to Gibbs. Even though the doors were open, it was warmer inside, maybe because he was out of the wind and snow. “Tony,” Gibbs whispered. “Closer.”
Tony moved in closer and felt Gibbs’ hand collide unexpectedly with the back of his head. Tony tried not to smile, but that touch calmed him and reassured him like nothing else could have just now. He let out the deep breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “What was that for?”
“For doing something extremely stupid.”
“Rescuing you and the sergeant?”
“Yeah.” Gibbs closed his eyes, and Tony worried that the man was worse off than he was letting on. The flutter of panic in his chest didn’t go away even when Gibbs opened those steely blue eyes again. “Good work, DiNozzo,” he whispered. Tony had the impression that Gibbs was gritting his teeth to keep them from chattering.
Tony shrugged, trying to make it look casual when, really, he was part worried and part overjoyed to get a few words of approval from his top. “I figured it was better acting than asking for permission, Boss.” The twinkle in Gibbs’ eye made Tony think Gibbs agreed. But Tony didn’t think he knew the real reason Tony had gone into that water, and Tony wasn’t about to say it. He would have followed the man anywhere and done anything for him. He couldn’t imagine almost losing Gibbs and not doing everything he could to prevent it. Gibbs had tried running out on them all before, and Tony wasn’t going to allow him to leave them again.
Gibbs then looked from Tony to the other two men standing outside the ambulance. “I’ll be all right,” he reassured them. His voice was weak but had his usual gruffness behind it.
One of the EMTs frowned, apparently not pleased to see the man had so many subs. It wasn’t his place to cast judgment on a patient, but he his concerns were not unfounded. “We don’t have room for you all.”
“Of course. We’ll take my van and follow you to the hospital,” Ducky said.
McGee looked like he wanted to ride along in the ambulance with Gibbs, but nodded to Ducky. “Right. We’ll see you there, Boss.”
Tony watched them head toward the van, and then he put his hand on Gibbs’ arm through the blanket. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Gibbs looked at Tony with a thoughtful expression for a few long moments. Then he reached out for Tony. “You look cold. Are you cold?”
More than cold, he was worried. And he knew Gibbs all too well. Gibbs would want to protect him; that was how he operated. It was his dynamic, and nothing made Gibbs feel better than feeling in control and taking care of a sub. “Cold? Maybe a bit, Boss.”
“Then c’mere, DiNozzo.”
The stretcher was large, but not really large enough for two people. They squished together and shuffled around with the blankets and hot pads until neither man was especially comfortable but they were stable. Gibbs’ arms were wrapped tightly around Tony, and Tony was practically snuggled up against Gibbs’ chest. They lay on their sides, facing each other, legs tangled. The EMTs tucked blankets around them both and monitored their vitals all the way to the hospital. It was hardly the intimacy Tony had been secretly hoping for and pretending he couldn’t care less about, but if he closed his eyes, he could pretend they were alone together.
Tony didn’t care what the monitors and thermometers said. It wasn’t until he felt Gibbs relax against him and drift off to sleep, still holding him, that Tony was sure Gibbs would be all right.