A/N: This was written for the NFA Secret Santa Fic Exchange last year and I forgot to put it up. It's an angsty oneshot centered on Tim, of course, just giving him a bit of a different background than I usually do.
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or its characters and I'm not making money on this story.
Snow Had Fallen
by Enthusiastic Fish
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
"Merry Christmas!" Tony called out gaily as he walked in.
"What are you so pleased about?" Ziva asked.
"You are looking at the guy who does not have to work on Christmas Day," Tony said with a grin. "You are also looking at the guy who is not working on Christmas Eve. You are looking at the guy who is headed to the Caribbean in exactly twelve hours and thirty-two minutes."
"Congratulations. I am not working either."
"You're Jewish! What are you getting off on Christmas for?"
"Do you think that I do not deserve a vacation?" Ziva asked, raising her eyebrows.
Tony smiled. "Oh, I'm not going there."
The elevator dinged.
"Ah, McGee!" Tony said gleefully. "Are you on vacation this year, too?"
Tim smiled. "Nope. I drew the short straw."
"Oh, that is too bad," Ziva said. "You cannot be the only one on duty."
"I'm sure I'm not. Maybe some of the other agents will be around. We don't usually have much to do on Christmas."
"Yeah, I guess. ...but didn't you work on Christmas last year, Probie?" Tony asked.
"I don't know. Did I?" Tim asked.
"I think you did," Ziva said. "You should not work on Christmas two years in a row."
"Hey, it's okay. I already told my family I wasn't going to make it. They know not to expect me. I'm going to take a couple of days between Christmas and New Year's."
"You sure?"
"Positive. What are you going to do, Ziva?"
"Actually, I am going to get the full experience of Christmas...with some friends. We will be skiing and exchanging gifts. It will be fun."
"Sounds like it will be," Tim said. "I hope you both have a good time...and you can think nice thoughts while I'm here in DC slaving away."
"Are you sure you're all right with this, McGee?" Tony asked.
Tim gave a quizzical smile. "Tony...what's up? I said I'm all right with it. I'm not lying."
"We just do not want you feeling abandoned."
"I don't," Tim said. "Enjoy the snow...and Tony...what are you doing?"
"The sea. I don't need snow for Christmas."
Tim grinned. "Then, you can go your separate ways and I'll see you when you come back. If you want to make a Christmas wish for me, you can wish for peace and quiet. I wouldn't even say no to a freak snowstorm. I like snow on Christmas."
"I will do that, McGee," Ziva said and gave Tim a quick kiss on the cheek. "Have a merry Christmas!"
"I will. Me and my computer."
Gibbs made his usual entrance and they all got to work. All day long, Tim showed no distress about working over Christmas. Even Abby was getting time away with her family. Ducky would be working, and a few other agents. ...and Gibbs. Tony had given Tim a sympathetic look when he found out that Tim and Gibbs would be sequestered together...with no buffers.
Tim was still accepting of the situation. By the end of the day, they were all ready for their respective vacation or work days.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Christmas Eve...
The day was as quiet as Tim could have wished. Tony and Ziva were gone. Abby was gone. Ducky had stopped by to greet him...but mostly, it was just working through reports, dealing with the paperwork that didn't get done when cases were pressing. Tim got requests from other departments for his help. He dusted off his IT skills and helped in Legal when their computers crashed.
All in all, it was as good as he could have wished from his Christmas Eve. Tim didn't think that he could be as content as he felt sitting here in the bullpen.
Gibbs did his work as well, and while they talked a little bit, it wasn't much in the way of conversation. There was no need. Tim was mostly beyond the need for filling the lengthy silences. Mostly. Sometimes, he still got intimidated by his boss, but not today. Today and tomorrow were days that he would never feel as though he had something to prove. He was in the right place at the right time...and it was the same every year.
He was glad Tony and Ziva hadn't clued in to the fact that he had worked on Christmas Day pretty much every year since he'd started working at NCIS. A couple of years, he'd taken time off, knowing it would be expected, but he stayed in DC. Since their vacations alternated, they didn't really notice his continual presence. If Gibbs wondered about it, he'd never asked for Tim's reasons.
"Hey, McGee. What are you doing here?"
Tim smiled at Jimmy.
"I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here? I thought you were off. Or did Ducky make you stick around?"
Jimmy grinned. "I'm just stopping in quick. I forgot to give Dr. Mallard his Christmas present."
"What did you get him?" Tim asked.
Jimmy's smile widened. "I found a book of collected stories. Supposed to be things that no one else knows. I want to find out how many he already has heard."
Tim laughed. "Sounds great. I'll bet he knows them already. Where you going for Christmas?"
"It's just going to be a quiet Christmas for me with my family. What about you? You here?"
"Yep. I'm here. Going home to see my family in a couple of days."
"Have fun. What do you want for Christmas?"
Tim smiled. "Just snow on Christmas Day."
"You might get it. There's a storm moving this way."
"Great!"
Jimmy hurried down to Autopsy to drop off his present. When he came back through, he waved at Tim who waved back. Then, he returned to his work.
"McGee?"
Tim looked up.
"Yeah, Boss?"
"Done for the day."
"You sure? I can put in another hour at least."
"No reason. Go on."
"All right," Tim said with a shrug. He got up and started gathering his stuff. He headed for the elevator.
"McGee?"
"Yeah, Boss?"
"Why are you working on Christmas again?"
"Just my turn," Tim said and smiled.
"So you didn't volunteer?"
Tim shrugged again. "I might have. That all, Boss?"
"Yeah."
"See you tomorrow."
Tim left the building and looked up at the sky. No sign of clouds so far. DC wasn't really known for its white Christmases, but it was always possible. They'd had a couple of years with tons of snow, but it was the exception, not the rule. He sighed and headed home.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Christmas Day...
Tim woke up early on Christmas morning. He looked out the window and took a breath. No snow. He smiled and called home.
"Hey, Mom."
"Tim? How are you doing?"
"Fine. How's Christmas so far?"
"Quiet as always. You're coming next week?"
"Yeah. Already got my tickets. I'll be happy to see you."
"Sarah says that she's not going to save you any food this year."
Tim laughed. "She says that every year. I'm starting to think she's lying."
"She just might be. You could come earlier. Nothing's going to happen."
Tim felt himself start to tense up. "No. I know you're right, but...no."
"Tim, this isn't rational, you know."
"Yeah. I know. Doesn't matter though."
"Your father..."
"Doesn't understand. I know. He never has."
"I don't either, really, Tim. It's never going to happen again."
"You can't know that. I'm coming in a couple of days. I've missed you all."
"We've missed you, too, Tim. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Tim said and hung up.
He took one more deep breath and got ready for work.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim got to NCIS and smiled as he walked inside. There were clouds gathering. Not necessarily a sign of snow, but there was a chance. Jimmy had said that there could be a storm. He could only hope. That would make today better.
He had beat Gibbs there...or at least, Gibbs wasn't in the bullpen. That was good enough. Tim could get into the groove and Gibbs might not try to ask him what was going on.
It was in the past. No need to bring it up ever again.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Gibbs watched Tim working away. He couldn't deny that Tim didn't seem upset about missing Christmas with his family...but according to HR, he had taken a vacation on Christmas twice since he'd been at NCIS Headquarters. Other than that, he was at work on Christmas Day. Gibbs didn't understand why, and that was something he wanted to remedy. There was nothing in Tim's file to indicate that he had a reason to avoid his family on Christmas.
He headed down to the bullpen. Tim was there, working as usual. It wasn't strange. Tim wasn't acting disturbed. The only difference was that he kept looking out the window. There were some threatening clouds, but no storm. Yet.
"McGee?"
Tim looked away from the window.
"Yes, Boss?"
"Something wrong?"
"No, Boss. Jimmy told me that there might be a storm today. I hope it snows."
Gibbs looked out the window and then at Tim.
"That's all?"
"That's all," Tim said and smiled guilelessly.
Gibbs was surprised that Tim was giving nothing away. Tim wasn't generally very expressive but he didn't generally maintain such stoicism beneath Gibbs' gaze. The Mona Lisa wasn't more enigmatic than Tim was at this moment.
"Anything else, Boss?"
Gibbs shook his head and got to work. There was nothing really going on this year. There was always work to do, yes, but nothing crucial...which gave Gibbs the luxury of considering his agent's strange attitude. Tim didn't seem bothered by Gibbs' scrutiny...which was also strange.
Late in the afternoon, Tim suddenly leapt to his feet, grabbed his coat and nearly sprinted out of the bullpen. He took Gibbs completely by surprise. He looked out the window and saw a few flakes floating down. It was snowing. He didn't know why this was so important to Tim, but it seemed to be.
Curious, he put on his own coat and walked outside.
Tim was sitting on one of the benches, completely still.
"McGee?"
Tim didn't even acknowledge him. Gibbs was surprised. This Tim was very different from the almost-blase Tim he'd seen all day. This one was stiff, tense...hyperaware.
Gibbs walked over and sat down.
"What's going on, Tim?"
"It's snowing. I really wanted it to snow today."
"Why?"
"Because...snow is...nice on Christmas Day," Tim said, his voice soft. "I like snow on Christmas."
"Why?"
"Why not? Snow on Christmas is what people expect."
"There's something going on with you, McGee. What is it?"
Tim lifted his hand, palm up, and let a few flakes collect on his glove. Gibbs watched him, and he decided that there was something here he didn't understand...and something that he needed to understand about his agent. This wasn't just a whim. This was something rooted deep inside.
"Tim, why are you working on Christmas this year?"
The hand dropped to his lap.
"Because I don't want to go home."
"Why not? A disagreement with your family?"
Tim laughed a little. "Only about whether or not I should be there. I think I shouldn't. They think I should."
"Why do you think you shouldn't?"
"Because...I'll only make things worse."
"What things?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Tim said. There was nothing petulant about Tim's declaration. It was a calm statement, but Gibbs could sense the emotion beneath it.
"How long has this thing you don't want to talk about been an issue?"
"Longer than you've known me."
"You haven't been home for Christmas since you've been working at NCIS?" Gibbs asked, even though he knew that was the case.
"I went home the first year...before I was on your team. That's why I don't go home anymore."
"Why not?"
Tim took a deep breath.
"I said I don't want to talk about it."
Tim was getting more tense, and Gibbs wondered what in the world could be going on...and how in the world he'd missed it.
"I love the snow," Tim whispered.
"Why?"
"Because I'm alive to see it...and I...maybe could have...not been."
Tim leaned forward and stared at the ground.
"It snowed after...and it was...like a moment of affirmation. Yes, Timothy McGee and his family are still alive. Tim's incompetence didn't get his family killed. Tim's naivety didn't result in complete tragedy. Tim's trust didn't completely betray him," Tim said bitterly. "We survived it. We survived my stupidity."
"What are you talking about, Tim?"
"I don't want to talk about it, Boss. It's in the past. That's where the past should stay."
"But that's not where it is, Tim. If it was, you wouldn't be sitting out here. You wouldn't be working this year."
"It's over and done. Long over. Long done. Can't change any of it...but I can not be there to ruin things again."
Tim got to his feet and walked a few steps away from Gibbs, facing the river. Every step was carefully controlled. Tim was letting so little out that Gibbs was amazed Tim wasn't choking on the emotions he was suppressing. He stayed on the bench.
"Tim, what happened?"
No answer.
"When?"
"The year before I started at NCIS."
"What happened?"
Silence.
"Did it snow before?"
"No. No, the ground was bare. It was cold and clear. No snow at all."
"But it snowed after?"
"Yes. It snowed a lot. We must have got a foot of snow."
Gibbs didn't know what constituted before and after, but he could see that Tim wasn't going to let him get at it directly.
"Does your family know how you feel?"
"Yes. They know that I won't come home on Christmas anymore. The first year after...I was so...afraid, so tense...I ruined it for everyone. No reason to keep that up...and it's safer without me there."
"Do they agree?"
Tim laughed a little. "No. They say that it's silly, that it will never happen again. Maybe they're right, but if I don't go, then it definitely can't happen again."
Gibbs was trying to decide on the next best question to get at this memory that haunted Tim so thoroughly he separated himself from the people he loved just to protect them from it.
"I felt so helpless," Tim said into the silence. "So helpless...and so stupid."
"Why helpless?"
Tim turned around. Completely gone was any remnant of the detached Tim of earlier that day. Gibbs didn't show it, but he almost regretted that he'd put such turmoil in Tim's eyes.
"I brought him into our home! I almost gave up on the whole NCIS thing. If I could almost get my own family killed, what chance would I have to help anyone else?"
"Did you know it would happen?"
"I should have. Should have seen...should have realized..."
"Should have realized what?" Gibbs asked.
Tim turned away again, his hands clenching into tight fists.
"Should have realized what, Tim?" Gibbs repeated softly. "What happened?"
"He was high," Tim said. "I knew he'd...he was one of those guys who experimented in high school. Gave me my first...and only foray into using drugs. Marijuana. I hated it. Tony and Kate didn't believe me when I said I'd tried drugs before. They said I would have enjoyed it if I'd really done it. ...but I did...and I didn't like it. I should have seen him for what he was, but he was my friend. I didn't have very many friends in high school. If the one guy who didn't torment me happened to be kind of a...a pothead, I could...look the other way." Tim shook his head. "After all, everyone else looked the other way when I got bullied."
"You met up with him?" Gibbs asked. This was like a strange version of interrogating a hostile suspect. Tim didn't want to tell what had happened...at least not out front. In back, it was clear that he did want someone to know. It was just a matter of getting him to admit it.
"He was...hitching a ride back home. I saw him on the road. I pulled over, asked him what he'd been doing. I should have seen what was wrong with him right then. He was strung out. He was an addict and he was..." Tim stopped talking and turned back to the river again.
"...desperate for money?"
Tim nodded.
"And he asked you for money?"
Tim laughed. "I wish that's all he'd done. He knew where I'd been. He knew I didn't have a lot of money. ...but he knew that my family had always been pretty well off. He knew where I lived...and I didn't want to..." He turned around. "Boss, he was my friend. I told myself that...that if I just...just took him home, gave him what he wanted...everything would be okay."
"He was armed?"
"I didn't know your rule," Tim said, trying to smile. "I didn't have anything with me but my clothes...and Christmas presents for my family."
"What happened?" Gibbs asked.
...and finally, Tim sat down and let it out.
"I picked him up about half an hour from home. He was edgy but I never put it together. When we were a few blocks away, he told me that he was sorry but he needed money and I was going to give it to him. He told me that if I did what he said, we would all be all right. I stupidly took him home. I told him to wait in the car. I told him that I would get it for him. He wouldn't. He said that he'd kill me and then my family if I didn't do what he wanted." Tim ran his hands through his hair. "I took him inside. My parents were waiting for me. They looked...happy...expectant. I ruined their Christmas. He pushed me in and pointed the gun at them. He said that he wanted money. Lots of money. When they told him that they didn't really have a lot of cash in the house...he demanded that they get it from the bank. They said the bank was closed and they had a limit on what they could withdraw. It wasn't what he wanted to hear."
Tim fell silent again.
"What happened?"
"I...we spent Christmas Eve night and into Christmas morning in the living room with a gun pointed at us. It was the worst day of my life. About nine or ten in the morning, he was getting pretty logy. He wasn't really all there anymore. My dad and I jumped him, trying to...get at the gun." Tim's eyes closed. "The gun went off. Twice. We were all holding it. I didn't know what had happened. Mom and Sarah both screamed. I thought...maybe they'd been shot. I thought maybe Dad was dead. ...and then...he fell to the ground. One of us had shot him, but I don't know who. He was still alive...bleeding onto the floor. He looked at me."
Another deep breath. Tim let it out all at once.
"'No hard feelings. We're friends, aren't we, Tim?'" Tim shook his head. "That's what he said. Then, he died. Right there in the living room. Mom called the police. We had a...crime scene for Christmas. The police asked who had shot him. Dad said it was him. ...but he couldn't know for sure. It could have been me. He didn't want anything to affect my chances of getting into NCIS. He wouldn't let there be any uncertainty. He wouldn't let me say anything. I brought him into our home...and then I killed him. ...and I know that doesn't make sense."
"It makes sense."
Tim laughed again. "Does it? Then, could you explain it to me? Because I don't understand how I could possibly feel guilty for killing someone who would have done the same to us."
"He was your friend."
"Yeah...some friend."
"And it started snowing?"
Tim nodded. "As the police were leaving us to deal with what had happened...it started to snow. I always like having snow on Christmas and I remember that I was kind of disappointed that...that it wasn't snowing when I was close to home."
"And now you won't go home for Christmas?"
Tim shook his head. "No. It's better to stay away. That first year after...I was so nervous that I couldn't sleep. I kept looking around for something to happen. When I drove home, I almost turned around when I got to the place where I picked him up. It didn't even matter that he was dead. When I'm here...I'm safe. My family is safe...and I'm doing my best to make the world a little bit safer."
"Do you really think anything would happen?"
Tim shook his head.
"Then, why not go home?"
"Because I'll just drag them all down with my fear. It's Christmas. It's supposed to be happy. I love Christmas...but I can't go home for it."
"Tim, you can go home."
Tim shook his head.
"Yeah, you can, and you should."
"Too late for that."
Gibbs chuckled. "Maybe for this year...but not next year."
"I'm not going to risk it."
"There's no risk."
"Yes, there is, and I won't do that to my family again. I won't ruin their Christmas by being there," Tim said.
"Didn't you ever talk to anyone about this?"
"You mean a therapist?"
"Yeah."
"No. I didn't kill anyone, remember?" Tim said with some cynicism. "I just almost got my family killed. Besides, that would have come up when I applied to NCIS."
"Tim..." Gibbs hesitated about how to put this. Ducky would be much better. Actually, anyone might be better at this. "...what you're saying sounds like PTSD."
Tim scoffed. "I'm not a soldier, Gibbs. I'm just a computer geek."
"...who experienced a traumatic event. You don't have to be a soldier for that."
Tim didn't respond.
"Look, I'll bet that Ducky could give the whole description, but I've known people who went through it...and you're acting like they did."
"How?"
"You've tensed up with every mention of what happened. It was a traumatic event. You don't like to talk about it. You avoid anything that might remind you of it...including your family and celebrating Christmas. You think about it?"
"As little as possible."
"Ever dream about it?"
"Sometimes."
"Tim, it's not in the past for you. It's your present. There's no reason to let this beat you year after year."
"I'm still alive," Tim said. "Look at the snow."
Indeed, the snow had started falling more thickly as they'd been talking. It looked to be a pretty significant storm.
"Tim, you need to get some help. There's nothing wrong with doing that."
"Says the guy who routinely keeps things to himself," Tim retorted.
"Doesn't mean I'm doing it right," Gibbs said. "I'm not perfect."
"I don't want to talk about it," Tim said again. "That's what I'll have to do, and I don't want to."
"What happened back then wasn't your fault," Gibbs said. "You couldn't have guessed what would happen, and I'll bet your family doesn't blame you. Do they?"
Tim shook his head.
"Then, why let this come between you any longer than it has to? It's already been years. Face it and let it go."
Tim tipped his face up into the falling snow.
"What if I can't?"
"You can."
"What if I can't?"
"You're not alone in this, Tim. You never had to be. All you have to do is ask for help and you got it."
Tim looked out at the snow.
"It's easier just to stay here on Christmas."
"Better?"
"Easier."
"Those aren't always the same."
"I know."
"Do you want help, Tim?"
Tim wiped a hand over his eyes and nodded without speaking. Gibbs squeezed his shoulder.
"Then, you've got it. Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"To get you some help?"
"On Christmas Day?"
"You have anything better to do?"
"I guess not."
Gibbs stood up. "Then, come on. I think Ducky can give you some suggestions of where to start, who to talk to."
Tim stood up. He looked around at the snow. Gibbs followed his gaze.
"You're alive, McGee. Now, let's see if you can learn to enjoy that again."
Tim smiled at him. "Okay. Okay, Boss."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tag...
One year later...
The snow barely dusted the ground in DC, but that was all right. Tim had it on good authority that there was a lot of snow in other parts of the country. He sat down and dialed a familiar number.
"McGees..."
"Hi, Mom."
"Hi, Tim. To what do we owe this pleasure? It's been a while since we chatted."
"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."
"What's that?"
Tim paused, gathered his courage and spoke.
"Would you mind if I was home on Christmas this year?"
"What?"
"I'll be home for Christmas...if you don't mind."
"Mind? Tim, we've always wanted you home for Christmas."
"Then...I'll be there. With bells on."
"We'll be waiting...and Tim?"
"Yeah?"
"It's snowing."
"Lots?"
"We'll have a white Christmas."
Tim said good-bye and then leaned back in his chair. He was going home for Christmas, and for the first time in years, he was excited about it.
FINIS!