Timothy sat on the edge of the bed at home. He'd gotten out of the hospital just yesterday and was glad of it. A week and half was long enough for him. He was still bandaged, shoulder wrapped tightly where he'd been shot before blacking out, one arm in a cast, sides if his face lightly bruised from where the gun that had shot him had been shoved in his mouth, leg wrapped up with stitches, and body sore from the other random beatings. All in all though, his body was doing much better.

He took in a deep breath and thought of the last moments of his torture- of his captor's gun going off and Tony falling to the ground. Tim clamped his eyes shut and grit his teeth, trying to rid himself of the image. He took in another deep breath despite the pain it sent through him and pushed off of the bed. He needed to find some drugs before he started to leak tears.

In the kitchen he found a bottle of ibuprofen and a water bottle in the fridge. Dumping out four he popped them in his mouth and chugged a bit of the water bottle. The coolness helped to settle his nerves. He still couldn't believe that Tony had charged in there, blindly, stupidly. But then, it had been Timothy's fault that it had happened that way at all. It was Timothy's fault he'd been shot. Timothy had stupidly, blindly gone outside alone and without his gun. This fact would sit heavy on his conscience for a long while.

Turning around, thoughts still pounding at his head, Timothy headed for his living room. His eyes swept around the place, tossed apart messily once more. He didn't really care at this point though. His typewriter was set up with another page in it. He'd only put out about three words before giving up. Besides, he'd gotten protests from the lump on his couch that it was too loud.

Timothy's eyes swiveled over to said "lump on the couch" and he smiled softly. Of course everyone agreed Timothy couldn't be left alone. He'd gone through too much, so having a team member there would be a good idea. Timothy was just questioning Gibbs' thoughts on it being a good idea to have two agents who were both shot under one roof. He shook his head and moved closer to the couch, peeling back the blanket just enough to see tussled brown hair and an open mouth. Tony let out a grunt of displeasure from being disturbed and Timothy let the blanket fall back over him. The man needed rest, too. The bullet had torn a nasty path through his thigh and he was sporting a heavy limp because of it. Timothy couldn't help but feel responsible. If Tony wouldn't walk right again, it was on Tim.

Timothy went to move away from the couch but something caught his uncasted wrist and stopped him. "Wait, where you think you're goin'?" asked Tony in a rocky sleepy voice.

A grin spread over Tim's face. "Back to bed. I'm tired. You should come, too. This couch isn't very comfortable when you're sleeping on it all night."

"Then why'd you let me?" Tony asked shifting to sit up, cringing only slightly at the feel of tenseness in his leg.

"I didn't, you feel asleep during the movie and I couldn't get you back up." Timothy held out his hand, trying to get his Senior Agent to follow him to bed. "What was I supposed to do, carry you?"

Tony chuckled and stood up, putting his weight on his right leg and looking down the hallway towards the bedrooms. "Think you could, Probie? That's a long walk…" He turned his face back to Timothy with a huge grin.

Timothy shook his head. "Yeah, you'd better be joking because at this point you could guilt me into it and then I'd just end up hurting us both even more."

Stopping his joking, Tony reached out and placed his hand on the side of Timothy's face. "Hey, look at me. It's not your fault." He tilted his head down lower, trying to get a good look at Timothy's eyes. Tony's were cast in shadow as he angled his eyes upwards. "You hear me? I came in there to save you from my stupid mistake. None of this is on you."

A twitch of disbelief stirred Timothy's lips into a frown but he nodded slowly. Even though he didn't believe Tony's argument about it not being his fault, Timothy didn't want to stand in the living room much longer. The bed would still be warm from his body heat and the added warmth and comfort of Tony in bed with him sounded wonderful. "Yeah Tony, I got ya." He turned slightly, making to go to the bedroom but stayed within Tony's reach so he could help him limp back there. Gibbs had given them the next few days off to recover before a long time stuck on desk duty so once they got back there, they wouldn't have to move much. He briefly wondered if the pizza guy would deliver right to his bedroom. That would be nice.

Tony noted the disbelieving look in Timothy's eyes but he was on the same page. He needed a nice warm bed and comfy cuddle buddy before he could start arguing again. Each step towards the bedroom shot fire through his leg and up into his hip and side. He'd been hurt before but this bullet wound was a bitch. He could only imagine how his Probie must be feeling after the real worked over torture he'd gotten. Tony briefly wondered when the junior agent would be ready to talk about all of that. He knew from experience it was better to talk than to bottle. "You okay, Tim?" he asked wincing as the moved steadily down the hall.

"Not really, but I want the bed." Timothy kept them going, not wanting to collapse in the hallway. He didn't bother shutting the door to the bedroom, but rather climbed into the bed and pulled the other side of the blankets away enough for Tony to clamber in as well.

Neither of them looked so graceful getting into bed but they both lay back with sighs of relief once they were in. Shifting to reach out an arm, Tony slipped it around Timothy and lightly pulled him closer. He needed to feel the man in bed with him, make sure his Probie was okay, and make sure neither of them was going to be disappearing any time soon.

Rolling over onto his casted arm, Timothy ignored the pain that shot through him and nestled into the crook of Tony's neck. He was amazingly happy that man was alive, that the bullet hadn't been a fatal wound. "Tony?" Timothy murmured.

"Mhm…" Tony's voice was soft, fading to sleep, but he blinked a few times to keep his attention on Tim.

"Is it all right," he had to pause to yawn and nestle even closer. Timothy was close to sleep as well. "if I say I love you."

Tony's eyebrow cocked upwards and he couldn't help a rumble of laughter. He felt Tim tense and immediately coughed himself to a halt. "Yeah McGeek, that's all right, since I sorta love you, too." Falling asleep in one another's arms, the pain of the last few weeks was starting to fade away.