Timothy McGee lay in the hospital bed, his left leg raised in traction. His mom was sat in the chair next to the bed, the only sign she had been in the car was the small cut to her forehead. Tim took the broken leg as payment for him and his mom still being alive.
"When is the doctor coming around?" Tim had been awake most of the morning, Sarah was at a friends house and his dad was somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, engaged in wargames with the US Sixth Fleet and the British Second Fleet.
"He said he'd be around before noon, Tim." Alice McGee knew her son hated doing nothing, and not having his computer, or his writing pads available was making him very annoyed.
"Well, it's now 11.45am. That makes it noon-ish, before noon is earlier than 11.30." Tim had always hated people who couldn't be specific when it came to time. He could estimate to within ten minutes most of his activities, he never understood why others couldn't do the same. "I just want to go home, Mom." Tim knew he wouldn't be going home for a few days. Home right now was a two storey detached villa in Naples, Italy, while Tims father completed his three years as commanding officer of the US Sixth Fleet, along with the base.
"I know, Tim, but we have to wait on the doctors." Alice wondered if she had let Tim drive too soon here in Italy. In the States, he had been driving for three months, but when they moved to Italy, Tim had had to wait nine months, Italian law requiring a person to be eighteen to drive, or seventeen with parental supervision.
Tim had been begging her to drive, and she finally relented. She had picked Tim up from the International school both children attended, watching as Tim came out of the school, talking to Hiro Nishikori, a young Japanese man who was Tims closest friend in Italy. What made most people stare at the two men was the languages they heard. Tim was speaking in rapid Japanese, while Hiro replied in fluent Greek. Hiro, like Tim, had moved around with his parents, both of whom worked for the Japanese Foreign Ministry. Alice smiled, her language skills, while not as good as her sons, were developed enough to know the two boys were talking about their classmates. Unlike Tim, Alice had to focus on the words, and concentrate on translating them. Tim had an uncanny ability to think and speak in different languages, making him ideal as an interpreter, a job he had flat out refused to think of as a career opportunity.
When Tim had spotted her, he said goodbye to Hiro very quickly, switching to Italian when he got closer enough to his mother.
"Per favore fatemi guidare l'auto/"Please let me drive the car?" Tim begged, his eyes pleading with his mother. He had had his seventeenth birthday the month before, and his learning licence had come through. If he had been in the US, he would have been driving on his own by now, they both knew.
"Fine, but take it slow, ok?" Alice knew her son was a careful driver, much more careful than either her or husband. Twenty minutes later, she and Tim were on a countryside road, taking a different route home than normal, allowing Tim to get used to the car. Alice thought she heard a noise, when she felt the car move sideways, and the world spun around her. The next thing she knew, italian paramedics were around her. She knew enough Italian to let them know she was a wife of a US Admiral. This made the Italian medics take them to the Naval Hospital Naples, after Tim had been cut out of the car. Alice had been at the hospital all night, while Tim had been in surgery, his leg being reset, the wounds cleaned. Now, she was waiting for the doctor to arrive to discuss Tims injuries.
"Finally," she heard Tim mutter, bringing her out of her memories, seeing the doctor walking over.
"Mrs McGee, Tim, I've gone over the xrays several times. It doesn't look too good, I'm afraid, Tim." Dr Mark Savage was not looking forward to this at all.
"Why? My legs broken, how bad can it be?" Tim was well aware of how bad a break to the leg could get, knowing careers in the US military had come to an end due to a sever break.
"Tim, your right leg has no damage to it, except for some bruising. Your left leg took the brunt of the impact. You have a compound fracture to the tibia and fibula, your kneecap was broken in three places, and the femur has a spiral fracture. You had bone fragments cutting into your leg muscles, and you have also dislocated your leg, the bone has come out of the hip socket." Dr Savage spoke quietly, but nothing could soften the damage the crash had caused. "Tim, you will be in traction for several months, you will more than likely require several surgeries over the next year, to make sure the leg heals as well as it can."
"But I will have full use of the leg, right? I mean, I will walk again, normally, right?" Tim demanded of the doctor, his anger rising, knowing his future was being affected right now.
"I can't answer that," Mark answered, though this wasn't true.
"The hell you can't!" Tim exploded.
"Timothy!" Alice exclaimed.
"No, Mom! He knows, I know he does, so tell me the truth, will I walk properly again?" Tims eyes stayed fixed on the doctor, pinning him to the spot on the floor.
"Based on your current scans, and the amount of damage we have detected, you have a less than twenty percent chance to walk normally again, you will more than likely require some pins inserted into the bones to help them heal properly."
With those words, Tim felt his whole world fall down around him, his future was gone in that very moment. He would never be able to be an NCIS Special Agent, never to chase down criminals trying to escape justice. Tim let the tears fall, not caring who saw him. Alice went to hug her son, but he had closed off from her, turning his head away, wrapping his arms around his chest.
"Tim, there is still a chance you will walk normally again. The surgery and physical therapy will help with that," Mark encouraged, hoping the young man wouldn't give up based on the statistics.
"Yeah, but we both know thats not true. I can't start the therapy until the injuries have all healed and the plaster casts have come off. That will be what, six months, maybe longer," Tim just kept looking at the wall. "That is without any additional surgery. My whole life is now on hold for the next year, and why? Because I was a stupid driver who almost got my mom killed."
Alice had not mentioned anything about the other driver to Tim, but now was the time.
"Tim, the other driver, was driving more than thirty kph over the speed limit, and he was drunk. You were below the speed limit, and last time I checked, had never been drunk in your life. He almost killed both of us, not you." Alice hoped these words got through to her son, knowing he had an unmatched ability to sink into deep self reflection, ignoring the rest of the world, herself included, for hours, if not days.
Dr Savage and Mrs McGee left Tim alone for a few minutes, allowing him to cry in private, while the two adults discussed the options available to them. Tim had been playing chess since he was old enough to sit on his dads knee while he played against fellow sailors in the rec rooms on base. He began moving through the different options open to him, thinking ahead by approximately ten years. Tim knew that college was at least two years away at that point, his dream of getting into NCIS by the time he was twenty five was slipping away from him. At this point, Tim had no idea how far away his dream would get from him, or what would take its place.
One Year Later.
"Well, Tim, I can safely say that is it. You are done with the operations, the bones are healing nicely, and it only took nine pins, four surgeries, and twelve months." Dr Savage said all this with a smile, knowing the now adult Timothy McGee had suffered from severe depression from his injury, the chances of him ever walking without a limp had decreased with every surgery, and every month spent in a plaster cast.
"Great! When can I start running in marathons again?" Tim had developed a dark sense of humour in order to get over the injury. Tim knew his limp would stop him becoming a special agent in any federal agency, though his computer skills would easily get him a job there.
"I'd say in about six months, depending on physical therapy, you should be able to run about a mile, on a treadmill, without any pain or adverse effects. To be honest, Tim, I want you to stick to swimming and cycling, easier on the body, and you are going to have trouble with the leg later in life, arthritis being a major concern." Mark had told Tim all about every surgery and every treatment he had given him, watching as the young man had absorbed the knowledge like a sponge.
"Got it, Doc, we both know I hated running for a bus, let alone a twenty six mile trek. I'll stick with the bike and the pool for now." Tim had not yet been allowed to drive a car, but he desperately wanted to, knowing he had to do it sooner or later. Tim had bought himself an electric bike for the house, knowing the Italian sun sometimes made it too hot to be outside exercising his leg. He had gotten the bike with his own money, after the other driver had admitted liability, and had gotten into the car, knowing he had been drinking.
Tim had received a payout of nearly three hundred thousand euros, which had converted into just over three hundred thousand US dollars. Tim had convinced his parents to allow him to have some of the interest each month as an allowance, buying the exercise bike, and investing the money each month. Tim had managed to gain a small income each month, of about four hundred dollars, by buying and selling shares online. Tim only ever invested his interest amount each month, the rest of the money going into a separate account. Tim was currently looking at studying finance and banking at college, but he also had another interest. During his year off school due to his injury, Tim completed each weeks schoolwork on a Monday, leaving the rest of the week free. He spent most of it with his mom, visiting the houses she was doing up in Italy.
Alice McGee was a property developer in her spare time, which was a lot more now her children were older. She would renovate properties for people, for which she received a fee, as well as buying, renovating and reselling the properties for a profit. This money she saved, splitting it between her two children, saving for their college educations. Sarah, being only eleven, had no interest in her mothers part time career. Tim, on the other hand, showed a keen interest in this business, giving his mother suggestions, as well as setting her up a website, email address and making sure that she stayed one step of her competitors, by giving out his email and telephone number as well, so he could speak to clients on his mothers behalf.
Alice McGee had no idea how much she had changed her eldest child life, just by inviting him to see an apartment on the seafront of Naples instead of lying in bed, wallowing in self pity over his broken leg.