Since they had gotten on the plane, Gibbs hadn't said a word to Tim. And that had been fine. Tim hadn't felt much like talking. He was still trying to process everything that had happened in the last three days.
His arm needed to be looked at- he'd been injured when he'd gotten into a fistfight with one of the rebels- he desperately needed a shower, and he was starving, but he had more important things on his mind: his wife.
Torres had come back for them, and brought Alex with him, and while both were also injured- casualties sustained on the job- they were all alive. Torres now looked McGee over and grinned at him. "Damn McGee, you look like hell."
"Shut up Torres," Gibbs said, without opening his eyes. "Ya aren't exactly a Renaissance painting either."
Actually, with the bruised face, Torres looked a lot more like the rogue he used to be. "Ha!" Alex snorted, sitting down beside Torres. "That'll be the day. Pilot says wheels down in ten."
"At the base?" McGee asked.
She nodded. "We're getting quite the hero's welcome."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Torres asked politely. "Does that mean that-."
"The team is waiting for us when we touch down. Ducky wants to look us all over, and plus they uh-," she glanced at Tim, and faltered.
"Delilah." It was one word, but it gave Alex and Torres pause. They looked at each other, before Alex nodded.
"Yeah, she'll be there."
"Did someone go pick her up?" McGee asked, suddenly starved for any news of his wife. Had her morning sickness come back? Was she getting enough sleep? Had he scared her with his stupidity?
"No, Tim," Alex said, and she got quiet.
"She helped us bring you home. And man, Tim, she is not happy," Torres warned. "You're gonna be sleeping on the couch tonight. And every night. Forever. She's so pissed."
Tim winced, but it was what he'd been expecting. He had full well known that she was pregnant, that he had responsibilities back home, and he'd still done what he'd done.
He had a chance at safety and threw it away.
Of course she would be furious, and scared, and he had never felt so guilty in his life. Hero complex and all, he'd had to go throw himself into danger. Gibbs had tried to stop him, had warned him multiple times, but it hadn't stopped him. He deserved every bit of her fury, her fear.
"Anyway, just warning you about the welcome committee," Alex affirmed, before launching into a conversation with Torres, consciously giving McGee time to gather his thoughts.
He looked over at Gibbs, only to find him staring back. Gibbs raised an eyebrow, as if to ask what did ya expect, McGee? That she'd welcome ya back with open arms, your dumb-ass move forgotten?
Tim shook his head, and looked down at his hands. They were crusted with filth and sticky with blood, his fingernails broken and jagged, but out of the mess gleamed his wedding ring.
"Is Delilah all right?" he asked, looking up, interrupting their conversation.
"She was worried, Tim."
"Very determined, your wife." Torres said, toasting McGee with his water bottle. "Nearly got onto the plane to Paraguay with Alex. Still not entirely sure why she didn't."
"When Ellie tried to stop her, she threatened to run her over with her wheelchair. It wasn't pretty. Ellie reminded her that she was of more use here-,"
"That made it worse," Torres said, shaking his head.
"You went back to DC?" McGee asked.
"No, Alex told me."
"She accused me of trying to go easy on her, and said that it was her husband in the jungle in the middle of nowhere in danger and I couldn't possibly understand, and I shouldn't go easy on her, she was a cryptologist- she was definitely unhappy."
McGee smiled. "Sounds like Delilah."
"Ellie finally managed to get her to see reason. It was helped by the fact that she isn't totally over her morning sickness, and spending hours on a plane throwing up didn't sound fun. So she went back to the Yard with Ellie to oversee things from there."
McGee frowned at that. "Her morning sickness is back?" Alex and Torres exchanged another look, and Torres narrowed his eyes at her. The message was loud and clear: way to go. "And you let her go with Ellie?"
"Oh come on, McGee, Bishop worships the ground that Delilah walks - rolls – on. She's not gonna let anything happen to her." Torres looked horrified at his own slip, but McGee let it slide.
"Okay," he said, relaxing slightly. They were all silent as they descended into the base, where he knew everyone would be waiting on the tarmac for them. His shoulder was aching, and he would have killed someone for a painkiller.
The plane jolted as the wheels went down, hitting the pavement, and McGee gritted his teeth at the pain in his arm. It would put him out of commission for a few days, he was sure.
The sunlight hit his eyes full-force, but the breeze from the open door was a relief after the humidity of the jungle. Nick was walking down the ramp towards the waiting crowd, waving and smiling like he'd just been named the President of the United States. Alex followed, rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath about what an ass he was.
McGee stood up, but as he walked past Gibbs, Gibbs grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face him. "McGee."
"Yeah, boss."
And then Gibbs delivered what had to be the hardest, fiercest headslap he'd ever given an agent in the history of the agency, whacking the back of McGee's with force, rattling his brain further. He stared at Gibbs, but Gibbs was glaring at him, his eyes narrowed slivers of ice in a stony face. "Don't ever do anything like that again, McGee."
He nodded, the emotions starting to rise in him. "Yes, boss."
And then Gibbs placed his hand on his cheek and patted it softly, a sharp contrast to the headslap. "Thank you, Tim."
He walked off the plane, leaving McGee to stare after him, incredulous. He'd never understand Leroy Jethro Gibbs, but maybe that was okay. He squared his shoulders, and followed him off.
He got to the bottom of the ramp, and his eyes were automatically searching for her, looking for her, seeking her out. He needed to see her, to reassure himself that he'd survived and he was alive.
And there she was.
The sunlight had lit up her face – more pale than usual thanks to the morning sickness – and she looked haunted, until their eyes met. However angry she was, however much pain and fatigue was blurring his mind, she'd never looked so beautiful.
He felt a smile grow across his face, and even though she was a good few feet away, he was running, before he even realized what he was doing, and then he was kneeling and his arms were around her, his face buried in her hair.
It took him a few minutes before he realized he was crying. He kept murmuring the words I'm sorry again and again through his tears, her arms clutched tightly around him as though she'd never let him go, and he was safe, they were both alive, and he was never leaving her like this again.
He pulled away to look at her, looking her over, memorizing her face. She was staring at him, and she was crying too, but smiling through her tears. He cupped her face in his hands, and pulled her into a kiss, trying to put what he couldn't say with words into it, and she kissed him back.
There would be time, to discuss, to argue, to yell and scream about how he could have done this, how he'd gone rushing into danger and forgotten about his new family.
But when he pulled away, all that tumbled from his mouth was "I love you."
"I love you too, Tim." Her face grew serious. "And Timothy Farragut McGee, you're never doing that again."
"I know. I promise you that. How are you? How's peanut?"
"Peanut's fine. I'm fine. Well… You scared the hell out of me, Tim."
"I know. And I'm sorry. It was…"
"The stupidest thing you've ever done?"
"Yes. A hundred percent, yes."
"I'm glad we're in agreement. We have a lot to talk about." Her eyes flashed in warning, but then she smiled again briefly, pulling him down into another hug. "I'm so glad you're safe, Tim."
"Hey, lovebirds!" Torres yelled, clearly expecting them to pay attention.
Tim didn't turn to look at his co-worker, he just pulled his wife in closer, hugging her tightly, never wanting to let go. He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers. "I love you honey."
"I love you too. Welcome home, Tim."
There would be time to sort out the details later. For now, his wife was in his arms and he was alive. He couldn't ask for anything more.