Okay, I know that this is not the update I should be giving (In progress stories!) But I found this on my computer from a few months back when I was frustrated at the lack of McGee angst after the whole Dearing, explosion, didn't evacuate... you get the picture. Anyway, they never really addressed it and so this is just a oneshot I may add to later just to make things slightly more awful and tense.
Gibbs was beside him.
An order not to die. He didn't have permission yet.
He thought he asked Gibbs a question... and received a solemn promise that the man would find the others.
And then Gibbs was gone. Replaced by EMT's.
The only constant was the pain. It hurt.
The pain and... something else.
His fist clenched again in response to the pain and he felt it.
Clasped in his hand, fingers curled tightly around it.
It was important... why?
He frowned as he tried to remember.
"..gent McGee?... you hear me?"
He blinked his eyes open and coughed, feeling his whole body protest as the pain ramped up a notch.
He swung his eyes across the people standing over him.
Not who he was looking for.
It came out as more of a groan, but the EMT nodded,
"He's fine. He's the one that found you and called us over. We're taking you to the hospital Agent McGee, we've been told a Ms. Scuito is already there... do you remember what happened?"
He nodded but asked again,
"Where... is... Gibbs?"
The thing in his fist... He tightened his fingers again.
Screen. Come on. Come on. Files being copied, data saved... a photo flashing on the screen. Dearing. Boom.
His fingers curled again. Flash drive.
"He's coordinating getting the rest of your team out Agent McGee... we need to get going."
He realised he was outside about to be loaded onto an ambulance... right. He remembered the blinding flash of pain that had come with being lifted onto the gurney.
He shook his head ignoring his vision swirling, and forced himself to sit up.
They moved as if to continue loading his gurney on... so he slipped off of it. Agony swept through his body as he supported his own weight, aided by the hand he promptly placed on the side of the ambulance. The fist with the flash drive curled in it came and wrapped around his ribs automatically, trying to offer some support or relief to the damaged area.
The EMT moved towards him, hand reached out to offer assistance.
"Agent McGee, you're not thinking clearly. We need to get you to the hospital."
He shook his head again, swallowing the resulting bile. His thoughts were disjointed at best but they were clear enough.
The flash drive went to Gibbs. Gibbs needed it. It was important.
"I... need... to... see... Gibbs... First." He got out through gritted teeth. "It's... important."
He looked around at all of the injured people and nodded to a woman with a bandage wrapped around her head that blood was slowly seeping through.
"Take... someone else... first... I can... wait."
The EMT didn't move,
"Agent McGee you have a head injury and at least one embedded piece of glass..."
Well that explained the stabbing sensation near his hip,
"... don't know how deep it is or if there are other internal injuries. Triage marked you as a priority..."
"And... I'm... refusing." He insisted. "Until... I see Gibbs... take... someone else."
"Agent McGee," the man tried again, "You can barely stand..."
"Gibbs." He repeated. "I'll sign... saying... I refused... treatment... if you need me to... but... this is... important."
"More important than your life?" The EMT countered. Tim simply nodded.
He'd risked his life to get this. He needed to see it through. Make sure it got into the right hands.
The man looked at him closely, took in the firm determined gaze and then shook his head, reaching into the ambulance and pulling out a clipboard. He held it out and McGee took it and a pen and scrawled his name on the line... as much as he could with his vision fading in and out.
He handed the clipboard back and the man replaced it with a red tag.
"It's a triage tag, as soon as you're done with whatever it is you're doing, put it on and you'll be on the next available ambulance."
Tim nodded and slipped it into his pocket. The EMT took one last look at him before moving off to help other people, starting with the woman Tim had nodded to when he made the suggestion.
He pushed off of the ambulance and stood swaying for a minute to make sure he was steady... and then made his way back towards the building.
"McGee!..." Tony turns to look at Gibbs, "I thought you said he was at the hospital."
"He looks like he should be." Ziva chimes in from where she's leaning against Gibbs.
Gibbs is frowning at him as he puts a hand on the wall to steady himself.
"That's because he should."
"I... signed the... refused treatment... thing... told them... to... take... someone... else first."
Tony moved towards him quickly the moment he started talking, and before he knows it the other man is gently lifting his arm over his shoulders to offer support. Tim stops him,
"Other ... side... please..." Tony sweeps a gaze over that side of his body, starting at his shoulder and working his way down. He frowns when his eyes are at waist height, tipped off by the blood patch visible on the shirt, but the actual wound hidden by the jacket. Gently he reaches forward and pulls it back, and McGee watches as his eyes widen.
"McGee... there's glass sticking out of you."
He huffs a small laugh,
"Thanks... Tony... I would... never... have... known."
"Why didn't you get in the ambulance McGee?" Gibbs demands.
His brain went kind of off track there for a minute.
"You told me... only copy... Dearing files... my computer..."
"Yeah McGee, but there's no use worrying about it now. It was a security measure at the time, but if we lost it we..."
"No!... that's why... needed to see you... make sure it... got into... the right hands..."
He held out his bloodied fist and uncurled the fingers dropping the flash drive into Gibbs' waiting palm.
"I got... everything... we had... before the... explosion... need... to find him... before... hurts anyone... else."
Gibbs is looking between him and the flash drive in his palm.
"This is why you didn't evacuate?" He demands.
"Couldn't... let him... get away... hurt anyone else... bomb... too close to building... would have lost... everything... start from scratch."
Now that he's done what he needed to his vision is greying around the edges and he can feel his knees start to buckle.
Tony is suddenly there again, propping him up on the relatively uninjured side. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the red triage tag. It's quickly snagged out of his hand and looped over his head.
"You were red tagged and you didn't go! Have I ever told you what an absolute idiot..."
He quirks a small smile even as he gasps in pain,
"Learned... from the... best..."
And then he's gone.
Tony moves as quickly as he can.
"Come on man. Stay with me. Stay with me."
It's a desperate muttered plea to the other man in his arms as they come out of the building.
"I need some help over here!"
The shout bursts out of his throat but is lost amongst the chaos and the sirens. Swearing he aims for the medical area. There are a few ambulances left and one obviously returning for another trip, the EMT's jumping out already covered in the smoke and dust that's swirling through the air.
He aims for them, or tries at least. His vision is distorted and his head is pounding in time with his heart. But he aims for the centre of the moving image and hopes that that's the actual one.
"I have an injured Agent here!"
He tries again, looking down at the pale face, and muttering 'idiot' under his breath for what seems like the thousandth time.
No one had noticed his plight so he takes it upon himself to place his partner on a gurney before yelling at the nearest EMT, pulling his badge from his belt and holding it up, hoping the authority will at least put slightly more power behind his words.
"I need a medic here!"
He barely waits to see the guy moving towards him before placing one hand on McGee's sweaty pale forehead,
"Idiot." He emphasises again before removing his hand and turning his attention to the medic.
"Agent caught in the blast, at least one piece of embedded glass in his abdomen and a definite concussion. He's already been assessed and red tagged." he waves the label around McGee's neck for emphasis.
"We'll have him on the next ambulance out." He's reassured, simply nodding in reply.
"Will you be coming with him? You need to get that head wound looked at."
Instead of answering he simply follows as the man keeps his word and wheels the gurney towards a waiting vehicle, climbing in the back.