A/N: So this is my meager attempt-ish at a Christmas story…meaning I kind of just threw Christmas in around a bunch of angst. I tried to come up with a plot and failed miserably, so I ended up with shameless Tony whumpage and some solid McGee/DiNozzo friendship. No slash.
Disclaimer: I do not own them, no matter how hard I wish I did.
"You have thirty seconds, Agent McGee. I suggest that you do as we say." There was an ominous click as the hammer of a pistol was drawn back, and McGee had to hold back a shudder.
"No. I'm not going to hack into anything for you."
"You sure about that, Tim? Your partner here is counting on you." McGee risked a look and shut his eyes quickly, trying not to panic. Tony was kneeling next to him, hands bound behind his back, face beaten, duct tape over his mouth. A gun was pressed to his temple, but he was staring defiantly at Tim and the message was clear. Don't do it.
A gunshot rang out as Tim screamed his partner's name, and Tony screamed behind the gag, blood pouring from a wound in his thigh. He slumped to one side, breaths sawing through his nose and muffled groans sounding behind the tape. His face was rapidly paling.
"Next one goes through his other leg. I am not kidding, Agent McGee. You need to do as we say."
"Can't or won't, McGee?" Another click as the hammer was pulled back again.
"Won't. I am not going to give you what you want."
"Agent McGee, is it really worth your partner's life to tell us a few passwords?"
"Passwords that would give you access to the national criminal database! There's no way."
"Fine." A fist smashed into his chin, snapping his neck to the right, even as another gunshot rang out.
"No! Tony!" Tim screamed, looking in horror at his bleeding partner. DiNozzo was on the floor, blood flowing freely from both thighs, eyes rolling as they lost focus.
"Tony! Stay with me, DiNozzo, just hang on, okay?"
"Hang on for what, Agent McGee? Do you really think help is going to come in time to save your partner? He doesn't look so good, Tim." Tim glanced over at Tony, the panic he felt at the sight palpable. DiNozzo wasn't moving, blood pooling beneath him, chest heaving with exertion.
"Can you at least take the tape off his mouth? Please?" He begged, desperately praying that Gibbs would show up soon.
"Why would I do that when it's so much more effective to leave it on?"
"Damn it! Please, just take the tape off!"
"Hack into the database."
"Then he dies. He dies, and you get to watch."
Rough hands picked him up, dragged him out of the room and into another, smaller space, this one without any computer or furnishings. Tony was tossed in behind him, and McGee could see the blood trail that smeared the hallway before the door closed.
"Tony, holy shit, DiNozzo," Tim muttered, easing the tape from his partner's mouth before desperately ripping bandages from his shirt and tying it as best he could around the wounds.
"Mmm-" Tony moaned, and McGee set a blood-soaked hand on his friend's head.
"Hey, hey DiNozzo, you're going to be okay, right? Just hang on." DiNozzo's eyes blinked open, pain-filled and glazed, but McGee smiled in relief.
"Tim?" Tony whispered, and McGee nodded.
"Just hang in there," he repeated. He didn't know what else to say, really.
"H-hurts," DiNozzo gasped, and Tim took a deep breath, brushing Tony's sweat-soaked hair from his forehead.
"I know, Tony. It'll be okay. Gibbs is coming." DiNozzo groaned again, eyes starting to roll back, and Tim shook his shoulder.
"DiNozzo, I need you to stay with me, okay? Umm, let's see, what are your plans for tomorrow?" Tony laughed painfully, a mixture of saliva and blood dripping from the corner of his mouth to the floor.
"R-really, Probie?" He gasped, and McGee smiled crookedly.
"B-bought myself- best of- Kuro-sawa- DVD for C-Christmas," Tony managed, half smiling at the thought. "Was g-gonna mara-marathon them."
"Kurosawa? Is that some martial artist or something?" Tim asked, the need to keep Tony talking first and foremost in his mind.
"P-probie, you-you wound me," DiNozzo grunted. "Ground-groundbreaking Japa-Japanese d-director. I-inspired George L-lucas."
"Wow, sounds great, DiNozzo. Anyone going to join you?"
"N-no. Spend Christmas a-alone n-now. No one…" His voice started to trail off and his head drooped to one side.
"Hey, hey, stick with me Tony. Listen, I'll make you a deal, okay? You hang on until help gets here, and I'll sit through your entire marathon. My Christmas present to you. Deal?" Tony looked as though he was going to try and say something, but eventually he just settled for a weak nod of his head.
"Well, I was going to go to my sister's apartment for a gift swap and to have breakfast together, and after that I was just going to go home. Now I've got something else to look forward to, huh?" DiNozzo nodded again weakly, and McGee noticed that he was shivering now, fine tremors that ran up the length of his body. He was going into shock.
"Okay, hang on," McGee muttered, shucking his coat off and draping it over Tony's shaking form. He was supposed to elevate the legs to alleviate shock, but what did he do when the legs were the problem? He finally just sat down, tucking DiNozzo's head into his lap, gently rubbing Tony's shoulders and chest in an attempt to keep the wounded man warm.
A sudden crash and gunshots erupted outside the room, and Tim knew instinctively that Gibbs had finally made it.
"You hear that, Tony? Gibbs is coming! Just a minute more." There was no response, and McGee shut his eyes for a second to compose himself.
"Come on, DiNozzo, you can do this," he muttered, first shaking Tony's shoulders than rubbing his sternum.
Bleary green eyes fluttered open.
"Tony, Gibbs is coming, you hear that? Just a little more."
"Don't th-think I c-can," DiNozzo muttered, and Tim shook his head.
"Yes, you can. Just hold tight, okay?" The sounds of the scuffle drew even closer. Tony's head was rolling as the wounded man fought to stay conscious, almost completely unaware of his surroundings now. Tim's watch beeped suddenly, and McGee jumped.
"Look at that, Tony. It's Christmas."
"C-C-Chris-" DiNozzo stuttered, struggling to form the word.
"I know, it's okay," McGee interrupted, and Tony sighed before falling completely limp. "Tony? Tony? Tony!"
This time, even the knuckle rub failed to work, and Tim realized with a shock that DiNozzo was barely breathing, his chest almost entirely still.
"Tim?" Someone yelled from far away, and suddenly McGee couldn't believe what was happening, realized that he was likely hallucinating, but no longer cared. At least he could die happy.
"Here! We're here, and we need a medic! Tony's in a bad way," Tim called, and he could hear orders being relayed to other people.
When the door smashed open, McGee jumped. Gibbs came in quickly, seemingly a blur of motion, tearing straight to Tony's side.
"DiNozzo, hey, you're okay," Gibbs whispered, lifting Tony's head from the floor. Tony didn't react at all, and Tim could see the desperation in his boss's actions.
"Where the hell are the medics? We need them here yesterday!"
The medics arrived, finally, put Tony's limp body on a stretcher, insisted on McGee being supported as he walked outside, shouted vitals at each other and focused completely on keeping the fading man in front of them alive.
It was close. Again.
When was it never close with DiNozzo?
It took two surgeries, more blood than Gibbs cared to think about, yards of bandaging, bags of IV antibiotics, one particularly scary bout of v-fib, an oxygen mask, and the prayers of numerous people, but DiNozzo pulled through. Pulled through like he always did.
McGee visited him two days after he'd been settled in a regular bed, smiled and looked down shyly at the floor when DiNozzo thanked him.
"You kept my ass alive out there, Tim. Thank you."
"You- you're welcome, Tony."
"And Probie? Don't think I forgot about our Kurosawa marathon."
Tim grinned and rolled his eyes. Yep, Tony was going to be just fine.