Chapter four

Tim finds Tony sitting on the couch. There is a blanket around his shoulders and he is dressed in grey sweats and an old college t-shirt, but Tim thinks he looks unfairly hot. If Tim had donned the same outfit and stance, he thinks he’d be mistaken for a homeless person.

“Probster!” Tony exclaims as he comes in.

He sounds a bit too happy, Tim thinks, and he narrows his eyes at Tony.

“Tony, what did you do?” he asks.

Tony looks up at him, eyes rather big. “What do you mean?”

“Uh, you’re never that happy to see me,” Tim says.

“Well,” Tony says, “I may be going crazy.”

Tim just stares at him.

Tony sighs, the loopy smile dropping off. “Fine. I’m bored.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Tim says.

He hangs his jacket in the hallway, takes off his shoes, and enters the living room. The movie currently playing has been paused, but from the frozen image, it looks like a violent one.

“McGee, get me out of here,” Tony says, voice whiny. “I swear, I’m going crazy.”

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Tim says.

“It’s all I do,” Tony says. “It’s all I’ve been doing. And Kate’s been here, and Ducky’s been here – even Gibbs was here, and they’re all making me sit and be still, while everyone else does everything for me. Gibbs is doing things for me. Do you realize how wrong that is?”

Tim fights to hide his smile. “Tony, they just—uh, we, I guess—we just care.”

“Then help me flee,” Tony says, leaning closer to Tim. “It’s better that I do it with supervision than without, right?”

Tim gets the sudden image of Tony, out walking, collapsing somewhere with no one around. He imagines Tony coughing until there’s no air left in him, he imagines the ambulance, too late to—

He shakes his head, pushing the images away.

“Probie, come on,” Tony pleads.

Tim rubs his eyes. He knows he will say yes, because he’s certain that Tony will do it on his own if Tim doesn’t go along, but he wants it to be more of a fight. In the end, he nods.

“Fine. But just a short walk.”

“Yes!” Tony says.

After two days at home – the two days the doctors understandably wanted him to stay at Bethesda – Tony is moving around all right by himself. He no longer walks hunched over and he’s not using the walls for support when he has to go more than ten feet – but none of that is to say that he’s fine. The shadows in his face remain, and the lost weight has not yet made it back to his body. There is also a tiredness in his eyes that Tim hasn’t seen before.

After putting his shoes on, Tony is ready to head out. Tim shakes his head.

“Jacket,” he says.

“McMom,” Tony mutters, but he takes the offered jacket from Tim.

They ride the elevator down, and a minute later, they’re standing outside. Tony breathes in, although it’s not as deep a breath as one someone with undamaged lungs would have taken.

Tim looks around, wondering if Gibbs or Dr. Pitt is hiding in the bushes somewhere, waiting to see if he’ll break the rules and take Tony out for a walk. It’s silly, he knows, because it’s a weekend, and surely Gibbs must have better things to do than spy on his team, and Dr. Pitt probably has other patients to see.

“So, where to?” Tim asks after a minute has passed.

“Starbucks,” Tony says. “And before you start whining, it’s a ten minute walk. I can manage a ten minute walk.”

“If you say so,” Tim says.

Tony doesn’t answer; he starts walking instead. There is no need for Tim to hurry to catch up, as Tony is moving slower than usual. At this pace, it is likely to take more along the lines of fifteen, twenty minutes to the coffee shop.

“So, anything new at work?” Tony asks conversationally.

“Um, not really,” Tim says truthfully. “It’s been slow, just routine stuff. Gibbs is having us catch up on paperwork.”

“You know it’s slow when,” Tony says, grinning.

“Yeah,” Tim says.

The sun is shining and it feels warm against Tim’s skin. He sneaks looks at Tony every few moments, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He wonders if this was a good idea after all, when Tony starts sweating.

“Stop looking at me like I’m an endangered species, Probie,” Tony says without looking at him.

“I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, you were,” Tony says.

“Well, I’m not sure that this, uh, you know, is a good idea,” Tim says.

“Everyone says fresh air’s good for you,” Tony says. “And there’s no rain or anything. What’s not to like?”

“The fact that you had the plague last week?” Tim asks.

“Killjoy,” Tony mutters.

“Look, Tony, maybe we should head back—”

“No,” Tony says resolutely, and keeps on walking.

’t seem to get enough of looking at Tony lately – it’s like his run-in with the plague made Tim realize that Tony might not be around forever. Tony isn’t bullet-proof, or plague-proof; he doesn’t have any kind of supernatural abilities to stay alive at all. In fact, considering how much of a trouble magnet Tony tends to be, it’s amazing that he’s reached past thirty.

“You’re doing it again,” Tony says, not even glancing back to look at Tim.

“You’re walking in front of me,” Tim mutters.

But he slides up to walk beside Tony instead, keeping close enough to grab him, should the need arise for any reason. Tony gives him a long look that tells him what he thinks of Tim’s mother-henning, but Tim meets his gaze as steadily as he can, and Tony finally sighs lightly and shrugs.

“So, is it lonely at work without me?” Tony asks.

It is, but Tim isn’t about to inflate Tony’s ego to the point where it will almost burst. “No, it’s actually really nice. Calm. We’re getting a lot of work done.”

Tony looks slightly hurt, and Tim thinks about taking it back, but decides that Tony has teased him enough times for him to deserve it.

“But Kate must miss me,” he says.

Tim knows she does – he’s seen her look longingly at Tony’s desk. Besides, she’s visiting Tony almost as often as Tim is. He must know that they’re missing him.

“No, she’s enjoying it,” Tim says. “She seems to enjoy her status as the Senior Field Agent, too.”

“She—what—but that’s temporary, right?” Tony says, looking stricken for real.

Tim decides he’s taken it far enough. He dares to reach out and place a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “It’s temporary.”

Tony searches his eyes, and finds what it is he’s looking for, because he nods. “Good. She can have it ‘til I’m back.”

’s nearly panting now, and there’s a trail of sweat running down the side of his face. Tim frowns; he’s barely warm from their slow walk.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Fine, Probie,” Tony says. “Just a little warm. Exercise will do that to you.”

Tim bites his lip, but refrains from pointing out that this barely constitutes as exercise, especially for two federal agents. He sees the Starbucks sign looming ahead, and decides that they might as well go there and rest – going back will take longer. They might catch a cab home, to be on the safe side.

It takes them another four minutes to reach the doors of the café. Tony is red-faced, which clashes badly with the shades of blue around his eyes, and his breath is raspy, but he gives Tim a pointed look that tells him he’d better not ask.

“What do you want?” Tim asks, nodding towards the menu on the wall.

“A latte,” Tony says. “Big one.”

Tim nods. “Go sit down. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Tony looks like he’s going to argue, but then he seems to realize just how tired he is. “I’ll be over there.”

Tim stands in line, watching as Tony stumbles towards a few seats in the back. Once sitting down, facing away from Tim, Tony rests his head in his hands, and Tim can see his shoulders shake with every breath he takes, even from a distance.

He orders a black coffee for himself, and Tony’s latte, as well as a chocolate chip muffin. It’s far from the ordered diet, but Tim hopes the sugar and calories will do some good to Tony.

“Here,” he says, setting the tray down in front of Tony.

Tony sits up, looking hollow-eyed and exhausted. “Thanks.”

“You should’ve stayed at home,” Tim says. “I could’ve gotten coffee for you.”

“I wanted to get out,” Tony says.

“You got out of the hospital two days ago,” Tim says. “Give yourself a break.”

“I’m tired of giving myself breaks,” Tony says, and there’s anger and pain in his voice. “It’s all I’m doing – ‘give yourself a break, DiNozzo, you shouldn’t have to be able to walk all the way to the bathroom, it’s really far’. ‘Give yourself a break, DiNozzo, staying awake for a whole day is really tough’. ‘Give yourself—’”

“Oh, stop it,” Tim snaps, surprising himself.

Tony stops, looking at him with unreadable eyes. The redness of his face has gone, and he’s now pale and still sweating.

“Something to say, Probie?” he asks, in a tone that is quiet and very nearly threatening. Tim wonders if Tony would be able to kill him, even now, when he’s obviously still sick. He thinks it’s definitely a possibility.

“Yeah, uh,” Tim says, voice shaking. He puts his cup of coffee down, deciding to do so before he spills all over himself. “You were sick.”

“So?”

“So!” Tim says, “So, give yourself a break. The doctors didn’t even want you leaving the hospital until today. Most of them didn’t think you’d survive at all – and yet here you are, annoying and stupid and alive. And no, you can’t run the marathon, or even be awake for a whole day right now – but that’s because your body’s still recuperating. Give yourself a break!”

He glares at Tony. He knows his hands are shaking – standing up to Tony isn’t something he does on a regular basis – and he folds them in his lap. A part of him wants to reach out and strangle Tony for being so thick-headed – and the other part wants to reach out and kiss him, to make sure he’s still there, whole and alive.

He does neither, because he knows neither will be appreciated – although the second option is probably worse to Tony than the first.

Tony is regarding him wordlessly, perhaps working out what to say, or perhaps simply concentrating on breathing calmly. Every breath is raspy and loud to Tim, who’s paid such close attention to Tony’s breathing in the last week.

“Probie,” he says, wheezing the word out. “You’ve grown a spine.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well—”

He trails off, looking at Tony. Tony averts his eyes, and presses the heel of his hand to his temple. He screws his eyes shut.

“Probie?”

Tony’s request is quiet and filled with hurt.

“Yeah?”

“Get me home,” he says, voice soft but thick with phlegm.

Tim swallows, because he knows how much it takes for Tony to ask for help the way he just did. He gets his cell phone out, and within thirty seconds, he’s ordered a cab. It will have arrived by the time they’ve made it to the door.

“Can you stand?” Tim asks. His heart is beating faster than normal, worry for Tony seeping into his voice.

Tony nods. He’s being truthful – he can stand, but not much more than that. He’s shaking, and Tim grabs his arm, steadying him. As they leave, he bends down and picks up the untouched muffin.

They make their way out to the cab, which is waiting just outside. Tony is stumbling with every other step he takes, and people look at them funny. They probably think Tony is drunk. Tim doesn’t care; he simply wants Tony back at home and safe in bed.

The taxi ride is very quick – their twenty minute walk is less than a three minute drive – and he pays the driver before helping Tony out.

Tony leans on him on the way up.

“You’ll never—let me—hear—the end of—this,” he says.

Tim is fairly certain he’ll never use this as teasing fodder – he won’t want to remember this at all. His heart constricts as he looks at Tony.

He unlocks the door with Tony’s key and lets them both into the apartment. He steers Tony straight into his bedroom. Tony slumps down.

“Shoes off, and into bed,” Tim says.

“McMommy.”

“You obviously need it. You’re an idiot, Tony.”

Tony coughs, any comeback he might have had drowned out by phlegm and mucus. He doubles over, leaning forward, fingers balling into fists as he coughs. Tim’s heart races – should he be calling for an ambulance? Does Tony need to get back to the hospital? But he doesn’t call; he simply kneels beside him, rubbing his hand over Tony’s back.

Eventually, the coughs subside, and Tony is left breathless, leaning into Tim’s touch. Tim sits next to him, and Tony rests his head on Tim’s shoulder. Tim can’t quite believe it – and he refuses to acknowledge just how warm and wonderful it feels to hold Tony close.

Daringly, Tim presses a kiss to Tony’s warm temple.

Tony stiffens, and Tim is about to pull away, to deliver some lame excuse as to why he just did what he did, but then Tony relaxes again. His breathing is evening out, and after a little longer, it’s back to normal, but Tim’s hand keeps running up and down his back. Tim wonders if Tony is falling asleep sitting up.

“Tony?” he says quietly.

“Mh-hmm?” Tony mumbles.

“You should lie down.”

“Mh-hmm.”

Tim moves to stand, to allow Tony room to get into bed. But Tony holds onto him, one hand suddenly fisting Tim’s shirt.

“Stay?” he asks.

“Here?” Tim squeaks.

Tony blinks, and he seems to wake up. He looks down at his hand, grabbing Tim’s shirt, and he scrambles back.

“Uh—sorry, Probie,” he says, some of his macho persona back. “Didn’t mean—thought I was—uh.”

He trails off and Tim frowns at him. “Do you, uh, want me to stay?”

Tony snorts and Tim worries for a second that such a thing will make him cough again, but it doesn’t and Tony – who still looks exhausted – shakes his head.

“I wasn’t—I was thinking about, ah, someone else,” Tony says.

But there is something in his voice, in his body language, that says he’s lying. Tim looks at him, searchingly, knowing that if he’s getting this wrong, then he’ll soon be looking for a new job. He swallows, deciding that it’s worth the risk.

He grabs Tony’s wrist, which makes Tony look at him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing, Probie?” he asks, attempting to sound threatening but it coming out more as a squeak.

“Tony,” Tim says, “lie down. Before you fall down.”

Tim pulls slightly at Tony. They regard each other, both measuring the other. There is fear in Tony’s eyes – fear and despair, and a loneliness that Tim hasn’t seen before.

Reluctantly, Tony gets under the covers. He’s shaking, his hands shivering like leaves in the wind. Tim thinks he has a fever – it felt like it when he kissed Tony’s forehead, and he tucks Tony in, making sure the covers are all over him keeping him warm.

He bends down and drops another kiss on Tony’s hair.

Tony turns, looking at him. Their faces are close enough to be touching if either of them moves just a little bit.

“What are you doing?” Tony asks him, again.

“I, uh,” Tim says.

He has no idea what to say; there is no explanation for him giving Tony light kisses that are in no way manly or socially acceptable among male co-workers. He knows there is nothing he can say that will make it all right. Blood rushes through him at a blinding speed and he looks at Tony, seeing full, inviting lips and wide, beautiful eyes.

He bends his head and his lips meet Tony’s briefly. It’s just a peck, a quick, shallow press, Tony’s lips dry but warm beneath his own. Tim pulls away, storing the taste away in his mind – coffee, sweat, the tang of blood, and something so very Tony.

Tony is staring at him, with eyes wide as saucers.

“Probie—”

“Don’t worry,” Tim says, pulling back, pulling away. “I’ll resign. You won’t have to deal with me.”

He thinks it was still worth it – one kiss from Tony, in exchange for his job; it’s a fair trade.

Tony is still staring at him, and he blinks slowly at Tim’s words. “What? No—no. No. But—what was that?”

“Uh, a kiss, Tony,” Tim says, playing dumb. He has already decided to stay until Tony kicks him out.

“I’m not the only idiot here,” Tony mutters. “You—why?”

“Um—uh—well—nurses aren’t the only ones who get crushes on you,” Tim says.

“You have a crush on me?” Tony asks, incredulously.

Tim nods mutely.

Tony looks at him until his eyes fall shut with sleepiness and then he snaps them open, not unlike how he did in the hospital when he was trying too hard to stay awake.

“Get in here,” he says finally. “I’m too tired to talk about this now.”

“Get—uh,” Tim says. “What?”

“Get in,” Tony repeats. “Here.”

He motions to the bed. Tim’s mouth is hanging open; he’s aware of the fact, but he can’t seem to find a way to close it. He wonders if this will turn out to be a dream – if it is, he hopes the plague was a dream too.

Now it’s his turn to shake, as he pulls back the covers and climbs into bed after kicking his shoes off. Tony’s bed is wide and comfortable – and Tony himself is warm and perfectly molded to fit against Tim’s side, he soon decides. Tony snuggles – snuggles – up to Tim, resting his head on Tim’s shoulder and wrapping an arm around Tim’s middle.

Tim’s heart is still beating a hole through his chest, but as Tony’s breathing evens out, Tim’s heart rate slows. He looks down at the top of Tony’s head – his head is the only visible part of his body; the rest is beneath the covers – and drops another kiss. He might as well take advantage of the situation – he’s certain Tony will kick him out of bed, out of the apartment, off the team and out of NCIS once he wakes up, so he ought to enjoy it while it lasts.

After a while, he too falls asleep.

Read? Review!

Chapters

Staying | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Should Have Been