ncisficathon | Lean On Me (pinch hit for annieb1955) (Reply)

Title: Lean On Me
 Author:

donutsweeper
 Written for:

annieb1955 for 2009 pinch hit
Prompt: Gen. Tony injured and stranded somewhere with McGee having to get them both to safety
 Archive: Please ask 
Genre: Gen, h/c
Pairings: none
 Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine
 Word Count: 1234
 Summary:  Tim was going to get Tony to safety. No matter what.

Tim hated heights. But here he was anyway, on the top of a rocky hill, so he could get a better look at the river they'd just climbed out of. So far so good, no footsteps in the sand anywhere along either bank. Their trail had been hidden well and there was nothing to indicate that they were being followed. "What do you see?" he heard Tony quasi-whisper. Again. With a sigh Tim began working his way down to the copse where he'd left Tony.

As he approached it he saw Tony reach out and feel around, picking up some of the small pebbles from the ground next to him. "McGee!" Tony called again. He wasn't any louder than the other times, but there was definitely a touch of force, if not annoyance, behind his tone. "Don't make me throw these at you."

"Tony," Tim chided as ran the last few feet back. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I am resting. This is me, resting. I'm lying down, or sitting back against this tree anyway, resting. Now, tell me what you saw!" Tony made a vague, threatening gesture with his handful of pebbles.

Tim took one last look up the hill before hunkering down next to Tony. "There's no sign that anyone crossed the stream. But..."

"But that doesn't mean we're not being followed or that they're not trying to track us down," Tony said, finishing Tim's thought. It wasn't likely; they'd caught up with Anderson and his men on the way to the airfield and only the stupidest of criminals would waste time chasing down federal agents when getting out of the country was a far easier option. But without knowing for certain, they had to be wary. Being anything else could get them both killed.

"We have to keep moving," Tony said. "Help me up."

"Tony, I really don't think that's a good idea. Your head—" but Tony was already rolling onto his knees before Tim could protest further.

"Tim?" Tony's voice wavered dizzily as he started to sway; Tim could see that Tony was overcompensating to the point of almost falling over.

"Here, I'm right here." Tim got up on one knee and grabbed him around the waist, pulling him up against his chest, holding on tight until Tony seemed steady. "I got you. It's all right, just lean on me. I got you."

"Damn ground has it in for me. Keeps moving around when I'm trying to stand on it," Tony grumbled, taking deep breaths through his nose. The part of his face that was not covered in the makeshift bandages glistened with sweat.

"I think that might have more to do with you getting shot than the ground trying anything fishy."

"Wasn't shot."

"Fine," Tim sighed. "Have it your way. Grazed. Happy now? But, I still say that since the bullet hit you it counts as you being shot though."

"Semantics."

"Tony." Tim didn't even try to hide the touch of worry to his voice as he stood, putting his hands under Tony's armpits, and hauled Tony completely to his feet, not letting go until Tony was able to support himself fully.

"I'm all right now. Don't worry, I won't hurl on you again. I promise."

"No, it's not that. I. I thought you were dead, before," he admitted softly. "The way you fell." Tim shuddered even thinking about it. He hadn't seen Tony get hit, hadn't even realized they'd been spotted until he heard the rifle report, but out of the corner of his eye he'd seen Tony spin from the impact, stumble backwards and then just disappear. As quickly as he could manage he'd fired a few times in the direction he'd thought the bullet had come from and ran over to where Tony had been. Only to stop short when he'd discovered that the ground just ended there, it was the edge of a cliff. Tony had fallen into the river twenty or so feet below and was being slowly carried downstream. Face down. Without even thinking about it Tim had jumped in after him.

"You saved me, McStudly." Tony patted Tim's arm affectionately. "I don't remember much of that part. Not until you were pulling me up on the shore. Couldn't see for shit anyway." He pointed to his left eye, now covered by the bandage they'd made out of Tim's undershirt. The bullet had creased right above it on the temple and that entire side of his face was a bruised, swollen mess as a result.

"How's the vision out of your right eye?" Tim asked. Tony had been completely blind, in an absolute panic, when he'd first come to.

"That one just got a flash burn, it's coming back just fine."

"Which means..." Tim pressed for clarification.

"It's not that bad. I could see you climbing down that hill. None too gracefully either, if I may add."

"Okay, you saw me. But how clearly?" Tim swung Tony's arm over his shoulders, more to make it easier to guide him than anything else, and started walking.

"Considering you won't give me the gun, what does it matter?"

"Tony." Tim put just a bit of force behind his tone. He was picking their way through the scrub as carefully and quietly as possible, but Tony was shuffling his feet as he walked, a sure sign that he was afraid of tripping or smacking into something. "How clearly?"

Tony sighed dramatically. "I saw a McGee shaped shadow, all right? Look, quit worrying. We'll get out of this. We're heading east, right? Away from the river? We shouldn't be more than eight, ten miles, to town. Maybe even less to that gas station we passed on the way here. And they had a phone. A nice, window to the world, telephone. We call Gibbs to come get us, tell him where we hid the ledger, a warrant is put out for Anderson's arrest and we go home. Easy-peasy."

"Unless Anderson gets us first."

"Well aren't you a barrel of fun there, Mccrankypants." Tony's voice didn't have any of its usual strength behind it, like the teasing was for form's sake but his heart wasn't into it.

They continued in silence for a mile or two. Tim kept an ear out for anyone coming up behind them, but there was no sign anyone was there. Tony began leaning heavier and heavier on Tim as they walked until Tim was practically carrying him along.

"You ready to take a break?" Tim asked.

It was a few moments before Tony responded with a confused, "Hmm?" before a flicker of determination ran over his face and, stiffening up to take on more of his own weight, said, "No, 'm good."

"Actually," Tim said slowly, feigning exhaustion. "If you don't mind, I'm beat. Is it all right if we stop so I can take a breather?"

"Oh. Oh, yeah. If you need it, I mean." And if Tony didn't quite manage to hide the sense of relief, Tim didn't say a word, he just shifted his arm around Tony's waist to guide Tony down against a log before sitting next to him. Under the sheen of sweat and flush from either exhaustion or fever Tony was looking decidedly weak. Vulnerable.

"You okay?"

Tony swallowed heavily. "I'll make it."

"I'm going to get us out of this, Tony."

"I know, Probie. I know."