There was only darkness.

"Where am I?"

"You're here."

"Where is here?"

"Here."

Darkness and an annoyingly uncommunicative voice.

"Who am I?"

"You are you."

A chuckle quickly stifled.

Frustration.

"Okay… but what is my name?"

"Tim."

"Tim what?"

"That's all you need to know for now."

"Fine."

A long pause.

"Can you tell me who you are?"

"Oh yes, that I can do. My name is Bert. Bert the Farting Hippo."

An indeterminable time passed before Tim spoke again.

"Is that normal?"

"Is what normal?

"To be a farting, talking hippopotamus."

"For me it is."

"Oh."

Another long period of silence.

"Why am I here - wherever here is?"

"Here is here. And you're here because you're here."

"You're really frustrating, do you know that?"

Another chuckle in response.

"Can you tell me how I got here?"

"Nope… but I can tell you that the reason you're here is to find out how you got here."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"You look."

A long pause.

"But it's dark. All I can see is darkness."

"Open your eyes then."

"They are open."

"Obviously they're not. Don't think about physically opening your eyes, think about metaphorically opening your eyes."

"What the… That doesn't make any sense! How am I supposed to…"

Blink. Blink.

"Oh. That's weird."

Tim looked around and found himself sitting behind a desk in an orange room.

"Where am I?"

"You are here."

He could now tell that the voice was coming from below his sightline. Looking down, he saw a stuffed hippo sitting on top of the desk. He cautiously poked it on its forehead and jumped when it flinched.

"Ow! What'd you do that for?"

"You're a stuffed animal!"

"What? Did you expect a real hippo?"

"Uh… yeah, I guess I did."

"Well, I'm not."

"Obviously."

They fell into an awkward silence. And when you have an awkward silence between a man who has no clue what's going on and a stuffed animal… well, it gets pretty uncomfortable.

Time had no measure for Tim, but Bert could feel every nanosecond as it sped by. Finally the faux fauna tired of the unofficial staring contest and let out a loud sigh.

"Are you going to ask me?"

Tim blinked in surprise at the broken silence.

"Ask you what?"

"What you're supposed to be looking for!" Bert could barely keep the frustration from his voice.

"Oh."

Bert tapped one little hoof in annoyance when Tim said no more.

"Well, ask me already!"

"Oh! Uh… what I am supposed to be looking for?"

Bert smiled in satisfaction.

"You're supposed to be looking for what's missing."

Tim stared at Bert in disbelief.

"What do you mean? I have no idea where I am or who I am, so how am I supposed to know what's missing?" Frustration laced every syllable he uttered.

"You're supposed to find out who you are and where you are and why you're here by looking for what's missing."

Tim glared at the hippo, which seemed quite content with his explanation.

Rather than give into his urge to throttle the animal - which wouldn't be very satisfying considering it wasn't breathing - Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He slowly looked around and tried to be open-minded about what he was seeing.

And finally he got it.

"I'm in an office, yet there's only one desk here!" Tim said triumphantly and Bert nodded happily.

"That's one!" Bert said.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth the room was no longer empty. Desks sprang up like blossoms out of the ground and people began to walk around, seeming to work. But when Tim tried to look at the people they didn't seem to be there. They were insubstantial wisps of what a working office was supposed to look like.

"This… seems familiar," Tim said, although the three desks nearest his still seemed wrong to him. "What did you mean by that being one?"

"You found the first thing that was missing - your job."

"I work here?"

Bert nodded.

"But… it doesn't seem right."

"How come?" Bert asked eagerly, hoping Tim was starting to remember. Time was running out and once it was gone Bert wouldn't be able to do anything about it.

"There are three empty desks here, but they're not supposed to be empty."

"And can you remember who's supposed to be sitting at each desk?"

Tim concentrated hard at the desk across from him and images began to form in his mind of a gray-haired, no-nonsense hard-ass.

"My boss is supposed to be sitting there, right?"

"That's two!"

This time when the words were out of Bert's mouth the two of them were suddenly no longer in the office.

Tim was startled to find himself perched on a workbench in what appeared to be a basement - although it was the largest basement he had ever seen. In fact, it was large enough to hold a sailboat that bobbed up and down in a small sea of water.

"What is going on here?"

"What's your boss' name?" Bert asked in reply.

Tim looked down at the stuffed animal sitting next to him. The little hippo was odd but it hadn't yet steered him wrong, so he answered with a level tone of calm.

"I don't know. I've already told you that I don't remember anything."

"You don't remember much, Tim. You started out remembering nothing, now you're starting to remember bits and pieces."

Tim shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. So am I looking for what's missing again?"

"Nope! You're looking for who your boss is."

Tim looked out across the room and then back down at Bert, who was looking up at him, grinning.

"Don't think too deeply. Just take everything in and when you know the name of your boss you let me know," Bert explained helpfully, glad that he could at least tell the man that much.

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then he did just as he was instructed - he took in what he was seeing. The sailboat bobbing in the water, the workbench cluttered with old-fashioned tools and the water itself, which captured his attention.

The water seemed to sparkle more than any other body of water he had ever seen before - especially since they were in a basement lit by an unseen source. And strange images played across the surface, broken by the gentle waves as they lapped against the legs of the table. He tried to make out the images, and finally recognized they were people. Many different men and woman, boys and girls, but for some reason one face kept showing up more often than any others.

Tim tore himself away from the water to look at the boat. It was beautiful - gleaming wood panel after gleaming wood panel seamlessly joined its brothers to allow the sailboat to ride high on the waves. He couldn't help but compare the boat to a taciturn man he knew.

And he realized that he did know where they were and whose place it was.

"Gibbs."

And then they were back in the bullpen, the shade across from him a full-fledged Gibbs look-alike.

Tim looked down to see Bert once again sitting on his desk, this time a grin on his fuzzy lips.

"Good! That didn't take you too long, but you're not done. Who else is missing?" Bert asked, trying to keep the urgency from his voice.

Tim looked to the left of him and for a moment he thought he saw a man lounging there feet up on his desk.

"Another man is supposed to be there." Tim paused, a look of confusion stealing over his face. "Why do I feel so annoyed thinking about him?"

"Three!" Bert said, chuckling.

A Ferrari 599 GTB sat in front of a giant screen in a drive-in theater - although this was not like any drive-in theater Tim had ever seen before. The screen was plasma with a crystal-clear picture. But the images on the screen flickered by swiftly and had no discernable plot so he turned to look at the vehicle.

"Wow," Tim sighed, looking at the gorgeous specimen on wheels.

It gleamed a metallic red, sparkling and shimmering in the brilliant sunlight. Sitting still, not even running, it seemed about to pounce into a hundred mile per hour run.

Tim tried the handle and bit back a pout when he found it locked, so he once again turned his attention to the screen - not so much the screen but what was in front of it. Walking towards, it he found himself facing the largest collection of DVDs he was sure anyone had ever laid eyes on. It spanned the entire length of the movie screen and was taller than even he.

A smile quirked on his lips.

"Tony."

Tim wasn't surprised to find himself back at his desk and he immediately turned to look at the desk diagonal to him. This time an image immediately popped up in his mind.

"A woman - a beautiful woman - is supposed to be there."

"Four!" Bert said with glee.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Pause.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Pause.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A longer pause before the noisy cycle began again.

Tim and Bert slowly walked towards the noise - slowly, for the hippo's legs were quite short - and finally came upon a shooting range. Tim was a bit surprised to see that the shooter was a doll - a true and actual doll. A four foot tall porcelain-faced doll with long curly black hair, wearing bland tan fatigues. And shooting targets.

Triple tap to the head.

Triple tap to the heart.

Triple tap to the - gulp - groin.

And then it would pause as a new target moved into place.

As they neared the shooter - the doll - a different target stuttered to a stop. This one had an image in front of the target, as if the target was holding a hostage.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG! BANG! BANG!

One right after another, decimating the target's head.

They were now close enough to the doll to see that the expression on her - its - face was a curious mixture of anguish, hatred and fear.

Tim sighed sorrowfully to see such a look on the doll's face - the face that represented his friend.

"Ziva."

Tim looked around the orange room and saw the pseudo-spirits of his friends working as normal. Gibbs on the phone, Ziva working on her computer and Tony sprawled out in his chair flipping through a nameless magazine.

"Okay Bert, they're all here. Now what?"

Bert just stared up at him.

"What?"

"Everyone is here?"

Tim looked around. He saw Gibbs. He saw Ziva. He saw Tony. And then his shoulders twitched.

"Yeah, everyone's here. But…" he trailed off.

"But what?"

"But all of a sudden I really want a hug."

Bert grinned.

"Well, you could hug me if you want."

Tim raised his eyebrows at the hippo before giving in and gathering the - actually rather soft and cuddly - stuffed animal in his arms.

"Feel free to squeeze. That's what we're for." Bert prompted.

So Tim squeezed. And Bert farted. And then they were once again in a new place. This time though it a was just the two of them and they were in a large satin-lined box.

"Are we in Abby's coffin?"

"You remember Abby?"

"Yeah, I do."

Bert barely hid his glee and instead asked the all important question.

"Do you know how you got here?"

Tim hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Bert seemed a little surprised.

"Oh? Well, tell me then."

Tim shifted uncomfortably.

"We entered a home - Reynolds' home - having traced the money transfer back there. We didn't realize that his father was in on the whole thing. We thought it was his roommate. But I was sweeping a room and Ray was there and without warning…"

Tim reflexively squeezed Bert to his stomach, smiling at the resulting noise despite the remembrance of agonizing pain.

"The next thing I knew he had me in a headlock and a gun to my head. Gibbs, Tony and Ziva had heard the gunshot and had come running. They were yelling at him, arguing with him, trying to talk him down. But he wouldn't budge. They should've taken the shot, but none of them did. I don't remember anything else."

Bert relaxed and rested his head on Tim's stomach.

"You made it to the hospital and were fairly stable for three days. You crashed though. Two minutes ago you crashed."

"Two minutes?"

"Time moves differently here."

"And being here means I'm dying," Tim stated.

Bert nodded.

Suddenly he felt extremely exhausted. Considering the circumstances, he shouldn't be too happy to be in a coffin. But it was Abby's coffin and he was intimately familiar with it, so he lay back and rested his head on the satin pillow, still cradling Bert in his arms.

"What was the point of all of that?" Tim asked, biting back a yawn.

"Your soul is touching the souls of the others in the room right now. Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, and Abby are all watching the doctors working on you right now. This is your souls' way of communicating to each other."

"Why didn't I know who I was?"

"Dying is a confusing time Tim, especially after you've been dealing with a lot of pain. You needed to be reminded of why hanging on is a good idea."

"And I needed someone - or something - to guide me."

Tim could feel the tiny head nodding against his stomach.

"So what do I do now?"

"You choose. Do you stay here where it's quiet and peaceful and there's no pain and eventually you'll just fade off into whatever is next? Or do you get up, get out of this coffin and live, knowing that nothing is guaranteed? That you may be in pain for the rest of your life? That you may die anyway? You have to decide fast though, time is running out."

It took Tim but a nanosecond to decide to sit up.

Four people stood huddled in the corner of a hospital room, frozen where they had been shoved aside by a wave of incoming medical personnel. They watched in silent horror as the line on the heart monitor remained flat and the seasoned faces of doctors and nurses began to look discouraged.

And then their horror was broken by the unmistakable "blip" of the heart monitor and they began to breath easier as the blips continued and got stronger.

Things began to calm down and the personnel began to thin out until only one doctor and two nurses were left. The doctor was making notes of what the machines were telling him and the nurses were resettling Tim in his bed.

Still the four remained in the corner, uncertain if they should move yet, unwilling to disturb those making their friend better. They saw one of the nurses lean closer to Tim's mouth before letting out a giggle - quite unlike the no-nonsense nurse they had come to know.

"What did he say?" Tony finally asked.

A grin played across the nurse's lips as she paused in her rearranging of the wires leading to and from Tim.

"He just said 'Bert'." She giggled again and shook her head. Her job definitely had its moments…

And in that corner of the room four faces turned to look at the stuffed hippo cradled close to Abby's heart. But Bert just stared back innocently, not letting anything show on his unmovable face.

But more importantly, Tim lay on the bed with his heart beating. Breathing. Living. Having made the choice to stay, thanks to the guidance of a gray stuffed - farting - hippo.