Where It Starts To Where It Ends (NCIS, McGee, Ziva, Tony)

[Wolfwings22]

Two posts in one day? I probably need to get out more, but I had some extra free time and this just came to be. I haven’t posted an NCIS fic in a long while and these characters were one of the first fandoms I was ever in, so they hold a special place in my heart. This will have McGee, Ziva, and Tony all being ill with more of an emphasis on Tony. A lot of fluff in this one with team bonding. I hope you all enjoy!

 

    There’s always that one person that starts the yearly cold that tears through the NCIS building. Unfortunately for McGee, he is that person.

 

 

Day 1

 

 

    McGee coughed into his elbow, the thick coat he wore muffling the sound even as it rattled in his lungs. He sniffled hard as he emerged into the bullpen, a shiver racing down his spine despite knowing that the heat was on full blast. It was a chilly day in February, sure, but no one else was still bundled up now that they were still inside the building. He felt as though all eyes were on him even though realistically speaking it was still early and he knew almost no one was there yet. Still, it didn’t help the embarrassment he felt that he had been the first taken down by a pesky cold.

 

    He had just turned the corner towards the desks for his team when he was forced to stop and fumble for a travel pack of tissues in his pocket. He managed to pull a few out and force it against his nose just in time. “Tsh’tchoo! Tchs’tchoo! Tsh’tchoo!”

 

    “Woah, what’s with the display, McGoo?”

 

    McGee stifled a groan as he gave his nose a slight blow as he walked the remainder of the walk to his desk. He threw the used tissues away and reached for a bottle of hand sanitizer he always kept on the corner of his desk. He gave his hands a few generous squirts and rubbed them all over his hands. There was no saying how many times that very morning he had done the same routine, wanting desperately to keep this to himself.

 

    “Id’s dnothig,” McGee replied as he set his briefcase down and lowered into his seat. The body aches hadn’t chimed in quite yet, though he could feel them starting to brew in his tired muscles when he hadn’t even spent anytime in the field yet today. How was he going to manage to keep up with everyone else at this rate?

 

    Tony swiveled in his own chair, quickly rushing to his feet and giving McGee’s desk a wide berth as he walked around it. “Sneezing, congestion, jacket on inside the building….you’re sick! You’re the original carrier of it this year. I am not coming down with that again like last year!”

 

    McGee’s eyes rounded. “Lasdt year Abby had id firsdt. Dnot be.”

 

    “It doesn’t matter who has it first. I just don’t want it at all,” Tony protested as he shook out his hands in disgust. “Then Ducky will prescribe that bright red liquid that should be banned all across the world. It tastes so bad! I am not doing that again, McGerm.”

 

    “I didn’dt bean to.” McGee broke off to cough harshly in the crook of his elbow once more, this time with more thickness to it than before. Whatever this was had the potential to settle in his chest, which was the last thing that Tony needed. Any cough he tended to catch would leave him plagued with it for nearly a month, and being an active special agent in the field, anything that hindered his ability to safely move and run could be considered a liability. Being placed on desk work because of a cough was the last thing he wanted.

 

    Tony took a few massive steps back, effectively colliding with something who had just emerged around the corner. The two went tumbling down with Tony hissing in pain as someone elbowed him hard in the side.

 

    “Ziva, what was that for,” Tony complained as he rubbed at his now aching side.

 

    “You’re the one that bowed into me,” she flashed back.

 

    “Id’s blowed, Ziva, blowed,” McGee corrected. He sniffed hard, frustration lighting in his eyes. “Plowed!”

    

    Ziva’s eyes shone in confusion as she used the edge of her own desk to haul herself up to her feet. She spied over at McGee’s desk and was about to venture closer when Tony grasped her by the wrist and yanked her back.

 

    “What do you think you’re doing? He’s patient zero!”

 

    “Patient who?” Ziva yanked her arm free and smoothed the front of her shirt from her earlier fall. She crept back over to her desk as Tony whirled around to face her, looking baffled that she had no idea what he was saying.

 

    “Patient zero. The first person to come down with whatever bug this is.” Ziva gave him another blanket look. “Bug? Virus? Sickness!”

 

    “Why didn’t you just start with that,” Ziva huffed with a roll of her eyes. “What does it matter if one person comes here sick? That doesn’t mean everyone else will be. There are precautions taken for a reason.”

 

    “Ha! You say that now. Just you wait,” Tony taunted as he looked over his shoulder at McGee, who doubled over his desk with another violent double. He surfaced sniffling once more, tissues brought up to his nose as he blew with a resounding honk. “That will be your future. Just you wait.”

 

    Before Ziva could question it any further, Gibbs rounded the corner of the bullpen, stride lengthening as he moved with purpose. Even before the words were out of his mouth, all three agents knew that it would be time to grab their gear and prepare for the journey to whatever crime scene was waiting for them.

 

    “Dead Navy officer at a nightclub downtown,” Gibbs announced. “Grab your gear.”

 

    “Can we take two vehicles, Boss,” Tony requested with a slanted look at McGee, who took longer than the other two to scramble to grab his own backpack.

 

    Gibbs looked back to McGee, seeming to study him for a few moments before turning back to Tony, who instinctively shrunk under his gaze. “Do you have a problem with being all together, DiNozzo?”

 

    “No. I just….” He trailed off when he realized he didn’t have a great excuse. After all, it seemed that al McGee had was a cold, and Ziva had been right that they could all take precautions and it wasn’t like McGee was inconsiderate. It could be fine for them to all be in the same space. If they had a case they potentially had a couple long days ahead of them that would force them on multiple occasions to be in close contact with one another. It could work out.

 

    “Yeah, we’re fine. Let’s go, McGerm,” Tony called as he threw his backpack over his shoulders and waited for McGee to slip in in front of him before bringing up the rear.

 

    After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

 

 

Day 2

 

 

    “And here you see that the carotid artery had been severed. However, it’s a rather shallow indentation and the marks on either side show that whoever did this wasn’t skilled with anatomy to know exactly what they were looking for. I’m thinking that—“

 

    “Tish! Tshssh! Tshsh! Itshsh! Tshsh! Tshsh!”

 

    Ducky lifted his head and moved his facial shield up upon seeing the younger agent turned to the side with a fist against his face. “My goodness, Anthony. God bless you!”

 

    Tony sniffled and turned back to the rest of the team that was staring at him intently, especially McGee, who was already turning a brilliant shade of red. He lifted the back of his hand to rub at his nose while Tony pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed at his nose.

 

    “Thanks, Duck,” Tony murmured after he had cleaned himself up and stuffed the handkerchief in his pocket. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

 

    “Our officer here was killed with a distinctively different weapon than our Officer Wilkin. However, the time of death I would put at relatively the same time if my calculations are correct,” Ducky continued with the shield pulled back over his face as he lifted a flap of skin aside so that Gibbs could have a closer look. Ziva did as well, but both Tony and McGee hung back for embarrassingly the same reason.

 

    The two seemed to instinctively draw closer together behind Gibbs’s back, Tony’s eyes blazing in frustration.

 

    “You got me sick,” Tony spat.

 

    McGee shuffled his feet from under himself awkwardly as though unsure of how to stand. “I-I didn’t mean to. I thought I was careful. Besides, one day isn’t long enough for you to start showing symptoms. We probably got it from the same person or source and I just showed symptoms first.”

 

    “Oh, so now you want to be technical when I can feel the pressure literally building through my face. Next is a sore throat and then you know what that means?”

 

    “A cough and fever?”

 

    Tony had raised his hand to give McGee a slap on the back of the head like Gibbs always did to them before thinking better of it. He dropped his hand back down and set his jaw in a grimace. “If I’m lucky. If not it’s to Dr. Pitt to check my stupid lung function and enough blood tests to test me for every known disease they can.”

 

    The memory of Tony being in that blue room under the thin covers, chest heaving with each labored breath as he coughed up lungfuls of blood invaded McGee’s mind. He could recall how long it took Tony to recover from that, and even now cold days would sometimes send him into a fit of coughing without him even being sick. That had totally escaped McGee’s memory and he suddenly felt all the worse for potentially exposing Tony to it.

 

    “Tshsh! Tshsh! Tshsh! Tshsh! Tschs!” Tony coughed hard to dislodge the itch as a distinct ‘bless you’ from Dr. Mallard rang through the air. Tony lifted his hand to give a half wave of acknowledgment before taking his not wilted handkerchief back from his pocket and blew his nose softly so not to cause anymore of a disturbance.

 

    “Bless you,” McGee whispered a few moments later, swallowing hard so that he didn’t succumb to the coughs that he felt bubbling in his own chest.

 

    Tony patted McGee’s shoulder soundly before giving it a slight squeeze. Ordinarily it would just look like a playful move, but McGee could feel how Tony had used him to keep himself upright as a sort of way to keep himself steady. This would be something neither of them would speak about, but both know that it happened.

 

    “Do you think whoever did this is going to kill again?” It was Ziva’s voice that finally interested both men as they both attempted to follow where the conversation was going.

 

    Ducky sighed as he rested his hands on either side of the body, looking at her curiously. “I’m afraid I’m not equipped to speculate on that, Agent David. However, I will say that the erratic nature of these kills may speak to your suspect’s mental state. I wouldn’t rule out there could be more victims if they are allowed to persist.”

 

    That was all the information that Gibbs needed. He was on even more high alert than before, locked in, the scent of a suspect in his nose and no way to free himself from it. If Gibbs was that committed, that made the rest of his team do the same. Honestly they may do it on their own anyway, though having Gibbs that much more willing to push them meant this case was about to become even more intense than it was before.

 

    Sickness be damned; there was a murderer to catch.

 

Day 3

 

 

    This time when Ziva trailed into the office, she held a cup of tea in her hands. She was honestly more likely to have a water bottle in her hands from her morning run, but this morning was one of the first times in months that she hadn’t ran. Her alarm had been set, and it had rang like normal, yet she hadn’t been able to bring herself out of bed to brave the cold to even think about moving her body combined with how terrible she was starting to feel.

 

    So, when she arrived in the bullpen to see McGee popping another cough drop and Tony blowing his nose into another stack of tissues, she felt she fit right in. Tony’s hair was more disheveled than usual and it appeared he hadn’t slept since the case began. Bundles of used tissues were scattered across his desk while McGee had an extra coat wrapped around himself. It was truly a sight to be had, and Ziva was not looking forward to joining them.

 

    “Good morning, Zee-vah,” Tony croaked with a small wave. At least he didn’t sound as congested as he had been the night before, though it wouldn’t be long before his voice was taken completely from him.

 

    Ziva gave a nod of her head as she set her things down and settled into her chair. Her hands immediately came up to rub at his face tiredly, sniffling softly as she went back for her tea and took a few more sips. It burned her throat like no other, yet she knew how important hydration was, especially when ill. This wasn’t her first time coming down sick and she knew what to do to combat it, even if McGee and Tony seemed to be going about things all wrong.

 

    “Morning, Tony,” Ziva offered back as she motioned to his own mug. “Are you feeling any better.”

 

    Tony held up a finger to instruct her to wait, eyes taking on a faraway tint to them as his head bobbed against his chest. “Tshs! Tschs! Tschs! Tshsh! Tcshcsh! Tshsh! Tshs! Tshsh! Ugh, just peachy, thanks.”

 

    “Bless you,” McGee offered as he grabbed a tissue box from the corner of his desk and reached across the space between them towards Tony’s. “You sound like you need them more than I do.”

 

    Tony reluctantly took them as he was running out of tissues of his own and his handkerchiefs in his suits were more for decoration than use, and were really starting to bother his already rubbed raw nose. He set the box in front of himself and pulled out another handful, not trusting himself that blowing his nose wouldn’t cause another fit, so settling for just dabbing it dry.

 

    “Why do you sneeze so much,” Ziva found herself asking.

 

    Tony shot her daggers, though with the slight glazed quality to his eyes thanks to a low grade fever, it came out more of a tired stare than anything else. “I don’t know. Why don’t you?”

 

    “Guess I’m not as sensitive as you.”

 

    “Hey, no I’m not! McGee, tell her,” Tony protested.

 

    McGee coughed harshly into his shoulder before looking back at Tony. “Huh? I wasn’t paying attention.”

 

    “And I rest my cast,” Ziva joke fondly before breaking into her own coughing fit, this one seeming to catch in her throat and increase the soreness tenfold. Her eyes closed against the strain until her breathing even out, though fearing any deep breath would set her off again.

 

    “It’s case, Ziva. Case,” Tony corrected weakly.

 

    “We finally have a lead.”

 

    All heads turned as Gibbs turned the corner only to grab his gear and turn just as quickly, expecting the rest of them to follow. Although sluggish, and with more tissues between the three than were probably left on the entire floor, they followed their fearless leader in hopes this might actually be the end to the case.

 

 

    Day 4

 

 

    Tony groaned as he heard a knock at his apartment door. He rolled onto his other side on the couch, blanket pulled back over his shoulders as he willed whoever was at the door to leave so he could fade back into that sweet spot between sleep and awareness. At least when he was asleep he wasn’t coughing and wasn’t aware of how the fever forced his body to feel like it was eating away at itself. He had certainly been sicker than he was right now, but it was hard to recall when he felt as crappy as he did at the moment.

 

    The knocking only intensified the more that Tony tried to ignore it. With a tired groan he threw the blanket from his shoulders and pulled himself into a sitting position. His neck rolled until it cracked as he forced himself to his feet, muffling a slew of quick coughs into the crook of his elbow. A hand drew over his face to rub at his itchy nose as he reached for the doorknob and turned it before pulling the door open.

 

    He was beyond surprised to see McGee standing there with two plastic bags in either hands. His head gave a small tilt at the sight.

 

    “What are you doing here,” Tony croaked, voice practically gone.

 

    McGee winced at the sound. “You sound terrible, Tony. No wonder Gibbs let us all have a few days after we caught Sargent Wood.”

 

    “Yeah, well, guess he was tired of listening to me sound like this.”

 

    “Just….stop talking. Can I come in? I have somethings I thought you might like,” McGee offered as he held up the bags for emphasis.

 

    Tony stepped aside and waved McGee in. the moment he stepped through the door, Tony closed it and started to shuffle back toward the living room where discarded tissues and half drank glasses of water littered the coffee table. Blankets and pillows were everywhere, as well as some clothes that Tony had thrown on and off depending on how hot or cold he had been. The TV was on to some action movie that McGee didn’t recognize. There was a single empty takeout container on the edge of the coffee table, though by the look of it, Tony hadn’t had much of it.

 

    “Would’ve cleaned up if I knew you were….coming.” Tony had to pause at the near end of the sentence as he coughed forcefully, so hard that he found himself staggering. He was quick to hurry back to the sofa and slip down before he fell down. His eyes closed tightly as he continued to cough, unable to contain it until it rose up and he began to gag. Nothing came up besides a strangled gasp, thankfully. Damn did that hurt when that happened and it was happening more and more.

 

    “I’m surprised Boss let you stay here alone.” McGee set his bags on the counter and pulled out another box of tissues as well as a bowl of soup he had picked up from the store around the corner. Part of him wished he had got more, but he could always go back out if he needed.

 

    Tony shrugged. “Told him my Dad was coming to stay with me. That was enough to get him to leave me alone. Gibbs hates that guy.”

 

    “Don’t you hate him to?”

 

    “Hate is a strong word. Maybe go with loathe.”

 

    McGee rolled his eyes at Tony’s attempt at humor. This was one of the first times that he was actually candid about how he felt about Anthony DiNozzo Sr. He thought perhaps this was the fever speaking and he didn’t have much more time before Tony would be back to his wisecracking self.

 

    After finding a spoon in a nearby drawer, McGee carried the soup and tissues back to the living room. He had other items in those bags, and he would come back and get them if he needed them, but right now he was set with just the two. When he set them in front of Tony, the older agent’s eyes lit in surprise.

 

    “I just didn’t think you had eaten and thought you might like it,” McGee began, a hand lifted to rub the back of his neck as he looked away from Tony as if expecting the man to laugh at him.

 

    Instead, Tony rose back up to a seated position and grasped the bowl in both hands. He pulled it to his lap and immediately brought the spoon to his lips. The warm liquid was heavenly, and although it began to make his nose run, he couldn’t imagine anything better. Not even a burger or pizza could tempt him at this point.

 

    “Take a seat,” Tony offered between mouthfuls as he motioned to the recliner beside him.

 

    “Oh, I don’t want to impose. I was just coming to drop it off and you’re sick and—“

 

    “Tim, please, sit. It’s the least I can do. I’ll even let you pick the movie, so long as I have the DVD.”

 

    McGee wasn’t quite as versed on as many movies as Tony was, not by far, but that offer sounded nice. He smiled kindly as he took a seat in the recliner and shifted into a comfortable position with one knee bent under him. “I like the movie that’s on. We can finish this one and then I’ll pick the next one.”

 

    Tony looked like he wanted to press McGee on if he even knew what the movie was, but with soup in hand, he was more focused on that. He nodded as he kept up with his soup, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence with the movie still on in the background, the feel of understanding and brotherhood stretching farther than just the NCIS building. If this was what it meant not only to be a team, but to really be a family, then Tony wouldn’t trade this for anything.

 

The End

[solitaire-au]

Aww, that was so sweet!

You did a great job of capturing the characters perfectly.