What's Eating Timothy McGee? 5/? gen.
Gibbs checked and Jenny Shepard's meeting had ended over an hour ago, giving her enough time to return to the Yard. Sure enough, the agency SUV was sitting in its parking space. After separating from Ducky, Gibbs went straight up to her office, noticing DiNozzo's scrutiny as he stepped off the elevator and crossed the catwalk.
Cynthia waved him right in. "Director Shepard heard about Agent McGee. She's been waiting for your report."
Once he entered the office, the Director quickly ended her phone call. "Cynthia told me that Agent McGee collapsed earlier. How is he?"
Sitting across from her, he decided not to beat around the bush. "He had a reaction to this last round of antibiotics. It caused a tendon to rupture in his leg."
"A tendon is his leg ruptured because of the antibiotics he was taking? I've never heard of that."
Gibbs understood her surprise. "It's rare, but common enough that there's been some studies published. Luckily, our ME had read one of them, knew how to minimize the damage. He'll be in an immobilizer while it heals, but eventually he should regain full range of motion and strength. It's just going to take some time and therapy."
Jenny leaned forward, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. "What happens now? I assume he won't be on that antibiotic any longer."
"No, after that reaction, they won't be trying it again. In a few hours they're going to start him on one that's a derivative of another antibiotic that he's already had a reaction to. It's a risk, but they're running out of options. At least when the wound specialist arrives at Bethesda tomorrow, McGee's been bumped up to the top of the list."
"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that, Jethro."
He stared at her. "Excuse me?"
"I realize that he's a member of your team, but he is a civilian. To have him moved up ahead of soldiers that were injured in combat..." Jenny shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you need to look at the bigger picture."
"The bigger picture?" Gibbs laid the folder of photos on her desk, but didn't open it as he leaned across, stopping when he was only inches from her face. "The bigger picture is that he was attacked and gravely injured by a Navy dog, while protecting Naval interests aboard a Navy base. This the kind of bigger picture you want, Director?"
With the implied threat hanging in the air, Gibbs opened the folder and fanned out the pictures, giving graphic testament to the severity of the wound. Jenny gasped and turned away, her hand over her mouth. Gibbs waited a moment before collecting the photos and placing them back in the folder.
She finally looked back at him. "I never dreamed it was that bad. Could he lose his arm?"
"Yeah, he could. This doctor tomorrow is probably be his last hope. I don't care if it's politically correct or not, McGee needs this."
Shepard's eyes flickered down to the folder, but she made no attempt to look at the contents again. "Very well, keep me in the loop, Agent Gibbs." He stood and picked up the folder, she waited until he was almost to the door before speaking again. "I'm not heartless, Jethro. I want to see Agent McGee recovered and back at his job, too."
There was a lot he could say at that moment to her, but he settled for a glare before slamming the door behind him.
---NCIS---
Unsure of her welcome, Abby stood in front of Tony's desk, wringing her hands. "I heard Gibbs is back. What did he say about McGee?"
Tony answered before Ziva could. "I don't know, Abs. He went straight up to the Director's office."
She nodded and sat on the corner of his desk to wait with them. When Gibbs came down the stairs, Abby jumped to her feet. "Gibbs, Tony told me what happened and I researched the antibiotic, so I think I might know what happened."
"Ruptured tendon from the Ciprofloxacin." He smirked at her shock that not only did he know, he could rattle off the name of the drug in question. "Docs already figured that one out."
"Can they fix it, Boss?"
"To big of a risk to cut him open right now so they're hoping it will heal without surgery, Tony." Gibbs wasn't going to give them details just yet; instead, he handed over the folder. "I want the documentation of McGee's injuries added to the Hanson file."
Tony took the folder as the two women crowded around him.
"Sure, Boss, what..." Horrified, Tony looked up at him while Ziva continued to stare and Abby shook her head.
"No, Gibbs, this can't be right, this can't be Timmy's arm."
"Yeah, Abs, it is."
She looked close to tears as she picked up one of the later photos. "Jethro did this?"
Gibbs gave her a careful look. "Still think he shouldn't have defended himself?"
"Butch is a trained military dog." Seeing the damage, Ziva's words hit home. "Only his trainer could have called him off."
"And Hanson was already dead." Abby was still staring at the close up of the damage. "We'll never know for sure exactly what happened when Hanson died, will we?"
"Nope. Dog was out of his mind with cocaine, had Hanson's blood all over him. Just because Hanson was stabbed and there was another dog involved..."
Abby nodded at Gibbs' words. "McGee would have had no way of knowing about the other dog."
"How would you expect any of us to react if we got jumped by an out-of-control, ninety pound dog already covered with somebody else's blood?" Gibbs pointed to the picture she was clutching. "Would you expect Tony, Ziva or me to just lay there while we're getting torn apart like that?"
"No." Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her.
"Then why didn't McGee get the same from you?"
"I don't know."
"Think about it, Abs. I'm going back to the hospital."
"Probie up to some visitors, Boss?"
"Not tonight, DiNozzo. They don't even have him in a regular room." Gibbs gave Abby a pointed look before leaving.
---NCIS---
The military influence in McGee's life was never so evident as when Gibbs started packing some of his clothes. Precisely spaced hangers in the closet, perfectly rolled t-shirts in the drawers, McGee may have never gone to boot camp, but some of the lessons he'd obviously learned from his father. Gibbs quickly filled the duffel before moving into the bathroom. Just as he was finishing, Gibbs remembered the books on the nightstand. He rolled his eyes at the titles of the two technical manuals before packing them as promised.
---NCIS---
Gibbs gave a brief nod to the nurse at the desk, but she called him over instead of buzzing him in. "He's been officially admitted and moved into Intensive Care."
"Why? What happened?" Gibbs glanced down at his watch, not knowing what could have gone wrong in the few hours he'd been gone.
"I'm not sure, sir. Dr. Malone just told me to send you over there when you arrived."
The nurse at the ICU desk had apparently been warned about Gibbs as she started speaking the moment he arrived. "I think Dr. Malone is just being cautious with his treatment before starting the antibiotics."
"So they haven't started yet," he glanced down at her name tag, "Shellie?"
"Not yet." She stood and started walking him back to McGee's room. "He's been given large doses of antihistamines and corticosteroids in preparation, though." They were at the door and Gibbs could see McGee's still form. "He's pretty sleepy from the antihistamines, but that's to be expected."
"Yeah, okay." Now next to the bed, Gibbs automatically reached out and straightened the blankets. McGee snuffled before settling down again, but didn't fully waken and Gibbs smirked at just how young his agent looked. "When do you start them?"
Shellie bit back a smile at the almost paternal gesture. "Dr. Malone wants to monitor Agent McGee personally, so we'll start the IV after he finishes his rounds."
Gibbs nodded as he sat down. About twenty minutes later, Dr. Malone arrived with Shellie and the small bag of antibiotic IV along with several other, larger bags of fluid. They made no attempt to be quiet as starting the IV would wake Tim up anyway.
Tim startled awake, looking up to see Gibbs next to him. "Boss, you came back."
"Said I would, McGee." Gibbs didn't like the surprise on Tim's face.
"I know. Figured the team would get a call-out - something more important."
Malone looked over McGee's uninjured arm carefully, looking for a place to start the new line. Finally, he chose the back of Tim's hand. After six unsuccessful attempts he stopped and a hot compress was placed over Tim's hand. "This should help bring the vein up some."
Gibbs wanted to ask why they hadn't done that in the beginning. He wasn't surprised when McGee endured the repeated attempts without complaint, but when Malone started moving the needle side to side, attempting to locate a vein, it was all Gibbs could do not to throttle the man. Eventually, after more multiple attempts and the arrival of a specialist from the lab, the IV line was established. Saline was started first before the bag of medications was added to the line.
"Have you had to do this every night?"
"Tim's veins are quite - challenging."
"Why don't you just cap the line between times and leave it in place?" Gibbs was getting mad as he looked at the myriad of bruises on Tim's hand and arm, some freshly forming while more were in various stages of healing. He was mad at the medical staff that didn't seem to be putting their patient's comfort high enough on their list. He was mad at McGee for not standing up for his own needs more. But mostly, he was mad at himself for not being more proactive in the beginning, for not stepping in and stopping the hazing sooner, and most of all for letting his young agent flounder, unsure of his importance to the team.
At least Malone seemed embarrassed by his answer. "It's not policy for outpatients."
Annoyed, Gibbs dismissed him from his mind as he stepped closer to the bed. "Bet you're glad that part's over, McGee."
Tim let out a shaky breath as he nodded. "Even worse than getting superglued all the time."
It was meant as a joke to lighten the mood, but to Gibbs it was another reminder of discomfort the younger man had endured at the hands of his own team. He laid his hand on McGee's head. "Try to get some rest, Tim, you've had a rough day."
The IV was only fractionally drained when Gibbs noticed a change in McGee's breathing. Malone apparently noticed it too because he quickly stepped closer to the bed. Within seconds, McGee was gasping and struggling to breathe.
"Damn it." Malone grabbed the clamp to stop the flow instantly before pulling the small bag of antibiotic off the larger bag of saline. Several nurses took over with the IV while Malone started McGee on oxygen and listened to his breathing. The doctor snapped his fingers at Gibbs. "Help him sit up."
Gibbs did as he was told, quickly getting McGee sitting upright to help his breathing while the bed slowly moved. Once the upper part of the bed was in a fully upright position, Gibbs let McGee rest against it, but he didn't let go. The panicked green eyes that kept watching him told him it was the right thing to do. "Easy, Tim, easy. You're going to be okay, you hear me? The nod was weak, but McGee calmed down almost immediately.
After the medication was removed and the line flushed, the fluids were started again, this time at a much higher flow. Shellie disappeared and then returned with several emergency doses of epinephrine. Dr. Malone listened again to Tim's chest before nodding to her. The medication was dispensed and within moments, McGee's breathing became audibly easier.
"Guess we can take that one off the list." Malone's joke fell flat as Gibbs gave him a hard look. "We'll let you rest for a little while and then we'll decide our next step."
Gibbs glared at him as he left the room before turning his attention back to McGee. The epinephrine and the struggle to breathe had left him drenched in sweat and the dropped IV's had soaked the sheets. The nurses worked together to sponge him down and change the bedding before slipping out the door.
The green eyes that had continued to watch him were now clouded with drugs and exhaustion. "Hey, McGee, how ya' doing?"
"Don't want to do this anymore, Boss."
Worried by the defeated tone, Gibbs bent down so that he was inches from McGee's face. "I know you're tired, McGee, but you're going to get through this. We're going to do it together."
Tim was definitely fading, the thumb rubbing across his forehead wasn't helping, either. "Okay."