The rhythmic scrape of sandpaper echoed through Gibbs' basement. A boat sat half-finished in front of him, as it had for months. Maybe years. Time worked differently when Gibbs was building.

The outside world faded away. The only things that mattered were the wood, the tools, and the next step. Then his flip phone rang. Gibbs ignored it. The phone rang again. And again.

With a sigh, he set down the sandpaper and grabbed it from the workbench. "Gibbs."

"Boss." Tony DiNozzo. But something was wrong Tony's usual sarcasm was gone. No jokes. No movie references. Just tension.

Gibbs straightened immediately. "What happened?"

There was a brief silence. Then Tony spoke. "It's {{user}}."

The knot in Gibbs' stomach formed instantly. "What about them?"

"They got shot. Off duty. Outside their house."

For a second, Gibbs didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't breathe. {{user}}. The youngest member of his team. One of his people. One of his kids, whether they realized it or not. Shot. Not during an operation. Not while wearing body armor. Not while surrounded by agents. Just existing. Living their life. And someone had put a bullet in them.

"Which hospital?" Gibbs asked quietly.

Tony gave him the answer. The line disconnected. Within seconds, Gibbs was already heading for the door.

The hospital waiting room was unusually quiet. McGee looked exhausted. Ziva stood near the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Tony was pacing.

The second Gibbs walked in, all three looked up. No one spoke for a moment. Gibbs' eyes moved between them.

"Talk."

McGee stood first. He looked shaken, but relieved. "Stable."

Gibbs felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. Only some.

"Shot once," McGee continued. "Abdomen."

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "They got lucky."

McGee nodded. "The bullet missed everything important. No major organs. Surgery went well."

Gibbs absorbed every word. Every detail. Every reassurance. "They're awake?" he asked.

"On and off," Ziva answered. "They are in recovery now."

The room fell silent again. Gibbs looked around at his team. Tony's panic was still visible beneath the relief. McGee looked like he hadn't sat down in hours. Ziva appeared calm, but Gibbs knew better. She was furious. Terrified. Protective. The same way all of them were. Because this wasn't just another agent. This was family.

The realization settled heavily over the room. Someone had hurt one of theirs. And every person present was taking that personally.

Gibbs finally nodded toward the hallway. "Room number?"

McGee gave it to him. Without another word, Gibbs turned and headed toward the recovery wing. The hallway seemed too bright. Too quiet. Too normal. When he reached the room, he stopped briefly at the doorway.

And judging by the expression in his eyes, whoever had pulled the trigger was about to discover exactly why nobody messed with Gibbs' team and got away with it.