A/N: Endgame made me think about how Tim might have been as a teenager falling in love for the first time. His experiences seem to indicate a kind of trend. So I wrote an angsty little story about him and his first love/loss. Very minor spoilers for Endgame, but not big.

Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever owned NCIS. Tim is probably glad of that. I'm not making any money off it.

First Loss
by Enthusiastic Fish

I would have done anything for her. I told her that. I was too young to be saying it, but I meant it. Isn't that how it always is? First love...and all that goes along with it. It was a moment of pure bliss. We had been walking together by the river, just talking.

"I'd do anything for you."

She laughed. "Oh, Tim...what a thing to say!"

"What's wrong? I mean it. I would. If I could do it, I would."

"What if you couldn't?" she teased.

"I'd still try."

I was only seventeen years old. She was twenty-seven. We were in some of the same classes. It started with me helping her with her homework. It turned into us dating. She didn't take it as seriously as I did. She was my first girlfriend. I loved her. More than anything in my life. If she had asked me to fail a class for her, I would done it without a second thought. ...well, maybe a second thought...but I still would have done it. For her.

"Tim, why are you looking at me like that?"

"I love looking at you."

"Why?"

"Because you're so beautiful."

She was, too. To me. No one else could see it. They only saw the scars that made her face changed. She had been in a car accident...burned badly. The scars marred her, but they couldn't hide her beauty from me. I didn't know what she had been like before the accident. That was before I came to MIT. I got the feeling she had been very popular with the guys. By the time we were in classes together, that had all changed. We became two misfits who fit together. ...and we fit. Perfectly.

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you."

"Tim, you're seventeen."

"That means I don't know what it feels like?"

"It means you need to meet more people before you decide you love me."

I didn't need time. I didn't need more exposure. I loved her. She was the only one I wanted. I was smart enough to be in college at seventeen. That meant that me being younger shouldn't matter. Not to anyone.

"Do you love me?"

"Tim, this isn't the time to be talking about love."

"Why not?"

"We're studying."

"Can't you study and answer me at the same time?"

"No. We need to finish this assignment."

It was summer. I would be eighteen in September. I had to be an adult. I knew that. So I waited, but I planned. I went to the jewelry store. I'm sure the man at the counter thought I was too young, that I was probably still in high school, not getting ready for my third year of college. It took all of my savings, but the ring had to be perfect for her. I would have gone into debt if it had required it. Thankfully, I knew that she loved opals. Opals were still expensive but not so much as diamonds...but there were some small diamonds on the ring. It was perfect. I imagined what it would look like on her finger.

"Hey, Tim. What's going on? It's your birthday."

"I know. I'm so glad you're here for it."

"Of course I'm here. Where else would I be?"

I should have noticed that she wasn't as happy about that situation as I was...but I didn't. I was in love. I was young, stupid and in love. I wasn't old enough to drink yet, but I might as well have been drunk on alcohol as dumb as I was. I waited until we were alone. I was nervous but excited. At the perfect moment, I pulled the ring out of my pocket.

"Will you marry me?"

She said nothing.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes...Tim...I heard you. Tim..."

Even someone as oblivious as I was couldn't mistake her tone for love. Her expression was pitying if anything. Pitying and sad. She pulled me off my knee and made me sit on the bench. She did not take the ring. She did not even smile.

"I don't love you, Tim. I'm sorry that you thought I did. We're just friends."

"I told you I loved you. I said it more than once. Did you think I was joking?"

"No. Tim...you're not old enough to know what love is. You're a teenager. I'm ten years older."

"I'm an adult!"

"For ten minutes, Tim."

"You like being with me. We've gone on dates."

"As friends, Tim."

I hated how she kept saying my name, explaining things to me like I was a child. Every time she said my name, it felt like she was kicking me. ...but I found out that she could make it worse...because she did.

"Tim, I met someone months ago. You know him. You've seen me with him."

"Will?"

"Yes, Tim. He'd been asking me for a long time, but I kept pushing him away...because of how I look. You helped me, Tim."

"What?"

"You kept telling me I was beautiful. I can't tell you how nice it was to hear."

"Nice."

"Tim, we're friends and I like being friends with you. You're a nice person. Smart, kind and I'm sure you'll break more than a few hearts."

She was talking to me like she was my mother. Friends. How could I ever have known that the word would become such a horrible epithet? I felt sick to my stomach. She loved someone else...and I had helped her love someone else. She had never loved me. Not even for a moment.

"Tim...are you all right?"

"Stop saying my name."

"What?"

"Stop saying my name. I don't want you to say my name anymore."

"Tim..."

"No!"

I threw the ring into the river. I stood up, walked to the bank and threw it as hard as I could. It was nonrefundable. No returns. The money was already lost for good. I threw it and then I ran away from her, ignoring her calls from behind me. How could she have possibly missed how much I loved her? How could she have blithely assumed we were just friends? I didn't know where to go. I was too young to drink, even though that's all I could think of that might make me forget. People did that in movies, I knew. ...but I also knew that if I did that, my parents would find out somehow and kill me. So...so I went to the library. I hid in my own private corner and stayed there all night long. ...until she found me again early the next morning.

"I thought you'd be here."

"Go away."

"Tim, I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. Don't call me Tim."

"What else should I call you, instead?"

"Nothing. I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"It's my fault, I know. I thought that if I made it a joke you would realize that you didn't really love me."

"I did really love you. I said it a lot. I did everything I could to show you."

"I know. Tim...you're much too young. I'm a decade older than you are...and a lot older in terms of experience. Why can't we be friends?"

"Because I love you...because you never loved me...because you think that because you didn't love me that how I felt didn't matter. Go away."

"Tim..."

"I told you to stop using my name!"

She tried. She kept trying to be friends but I never could. I was angry at her for weeks. Even after the anger faded away, just seeing her in classes hurt me. She graduated but came back for graduate school and was a TA. It was really hard. ...especially when I saw her come in with a ring on her left hand. It was a diamond, not an opal. She was happy. I was miserable. I was bitter. I was still too young.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks...Tim."

"Bye."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"I was going to invite you to come."

"No."

"Please, Tim, can't we talk?"

"No. There's nothing to say."

"Yes, there is. I hurt you."

"Yeah. Just figured that out, did you?"

"Tim, please. Can't you forgive me?"

"No. I don't want to talk. I don't want you to try and explain. I don't want to know how happy you are. Don't you understand? I'm counting down until I can get away from you and never see you again."

"That won't help."

"Yes, it will. I can forget about you. I can forget about being in love."

"No, you can't. You can't forget about being in love. You need to fall in love."

"Tried that. Remember?"

"Tim, I can't be the only person you ever love."

"I didn't love you, remember?"

"Tim, I care for you. I want you to be happy...but I wouldn't have been happy with you."

"Thanks. I really appreciate that. Go and be happy, but don't expect me to cheer you on."

I didn't go to her wedding. In time, I lost the anger, the hurt, the bitterness. It took a long time, but they faded and in time, I loved again. Lost again. It became my lot in life, it seemed. When Abby told me I should check with all my old girlfriends, I was inadvertently honest. It wouldn't have taken long to check with the ones with whom I might have fathered a child. Not long at all. There were very few.

I ran into her again a few months ago, my first love. My first heartache. It was completely by accident, but it was good timing. I had just nearly been killed by my latest infatuation. I went into a bookstore, hoping to find something that would keep me from thinking about it...and there she was. Older, certainly, but it was unmistakably her. It was as though I was suddenly seventeen again. I said her name, carefully, hesitantly.

"Tim McGee?"

"Hi."

"Wow. It's been a long time."

"Yeah. I know."

"How are you?"

"Better than the last time we talked...but in about the same position."

"What?"

"Just got dumped again."

"Oh, Tim."

"Story of my life. I'm getting used to it. How are you? I can see you're happy."

"I am. Are you?"

"Usually. I had a bad week. This one was worse than most."

"Why?"

"She tried to kill me."

"Oh..."

"It happens. Um...any kids?"

"Yeah. Three."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

That first conversation was so...so very awkward. It's hard to shake off the memories of how bad things had been. The initial overtures were brief, hesitant. We would never be close friends but we at least began to talk again. I met her husband, her kids. We chatted occasionally. That was all. We couldn't get back what had been.

"Do you remember that you didn't want me saying your name?"

"I remember. I was really angry."

"Do you still want me to call you something else?"

"No. Tim is fine."

"Thanks."

...but now, I'm going to her funeral after she and her husband were killed by a hit-and-run driver. I realized today that I never did forgive her. ...or at least, I never told her that I forgave her. In my heart, I had. What happened was as much my fault as it was hers. I was young and stupid. I wish now that I could forgive her, that I could tell her that I forgave her. Maybe we could have been friends again. Maybe not. It would have been nice to try.

Now...all I can do is say good-bye.

Good-bye to my first love.

FINIS!