A/N: This story is a sequel to Followed and you really should probably read it before reading this one. The story is Tim-centered as usual, and, as usual, contains the rest of the team as well. A word of caution, however. This story is the second in what has become a three story arc. There will be another story after this and this one ends with a slight cliffhanger. You can still read and enjoy, I hope, but it will take some time for me to write the third part. If you're curious, each chapter title is a part of a scripture. I did not make them up myself.
Disclaimer: I take no credit for NCIS, and I am not making any money off it...which is too bad because I'm going to be out of money soon. :)
Nor Do They Understand
by Enthusiastic Fish
Chapter 1: Speaking They Speak Not
They should be opening the bag soon. He hoped. He really hoped that they wouldn't leave him there until the next morning.
Please, open the bag. Just unzip it!
"Do you know what this reminds me of, Mr. Palmer?"
Tears slipped out of his eyes. Welcome voices. Although he couldn't make any noise, he could hear. He was all-too-aware of where he was...of what could be in store.
"No, Doctor. Is it an exciting story?"
"Of course, it is, Mr. Palmer. All of my stories are exciting."
There was no response.
"What I was going to say was that it reminds me of our first encounter with Ari Haswari."
"Oh. I'm sorry, Doctor."
"No need to apologize, my boy. We got a body bag from the Israeli embassy. Instead of the dead body we had expected, it was our friend, Ari...unfortunately, still alive."
"You'd have to be pretty desperate to want to get places in a body bag, Dr. Mallard."
"Yes, indeed. Desperate or determined. Either way, it is not what I would choose."
Please, get me out of here!
"Ducky, do you have anything on our dead lieutenant?"
Gibbs! Don't distract him! Let me out of here!
"Oh, hello, Jethro. No, I'm afraid not. We received a new body from Timothy a little while ago."
"McGee sent you a body?" Gibbs asked, confused. "He's on assignment in New York. Why would he ship a body back here?"
"I have no idea, but it appears to be his signature. See?"
More tears. More fear. Less air. Please, get me out before I die for real!
"He checked in a couple of days ago, but he never said anything to me about a new body. His work isn't even supposed to be dealing with bodies. He's working with a UN-sponsored anti-terrorism group. Jenny recommended him for it. He's due back tomorrow."
It was so dark inside the bag. He was weak, paralyzed and absolutely terrified. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to survive the trip. It was a hazy mass of bumps, bruises and pain all suffered in silence...and in darkness. He had clung fiercely to consciousness, afraid that if he fell asleep, he'd wake up on an autopsy table. They certainly had intended it that way...or worse. He remembered their final words before zipping up the bag.
"I've heard that you can survive an autopsy."
"Right up to the point where they start taking out your organs!"
"Tell NCIS hello for us, will you?"
Then, they had laughed and loaded him up. The driver asked no questions. It wasn't his place. Tim was fairly certain that the bleeding had stopped...at least, he couldn't feel it anymore...beyond that, he had no idea of his physical state...beyond the fact that he was probably still alive.
Oh, please. Please...someone open the bag!
"I was just about to call and verify. Would you like me to finish up on the lieutenant first or get this puzzle straightened out?"
"I'll call McGee. You get back to the autopsy. I want this case wrapped up as quickly as possible."
Yes, call me! Please...
Tim's cell phone started ringing...from the body bag on Ducky's table in Autopsy. The three men stood motionless as the phone continued to ring without stopping as Gibbs listened to the ring in his ear. Gibbs disconnected. The ringing stopped. He redialed. The ringing resumed.
"Oh..." Ducky said and stopped. Jimmy was pale at the sound of the phone. Gibbs may as well have been a statue. Ducky walked over to the bag. He hesitated and then began to unzip the bag, afraid of what he'd be seeing.
Light again! Ducky! Help! He couldn't say any of the words aloud, but he thought them so fiercely that he was sure it must have shown in his eyes.
"Timothy! Jethro...it's Timothy. He's not dead." A hand waved over his face and Tim blinked.
Then, Gibbs was leaning over. More tears fell from Tim's eyes as he realized that he was still alive and wouldn't be undergoing an autopsy.
"What's going on, McGee?"
Tim desperately wanted to answer. He really did...but he couldn't. All he could do was blink...and cry.
Ducky unzipped the bag more. Tim's shirt was missing, but his arms were folded across his chest...almost like a mummy. There was duct tape wrapped around his arms, his legs, his mouth.
"I'm going to remove the tape from your mouth, okay, Timothy?"
Tim didn't move.
Ducky looked at him in concern. "Blink twice, if you understand me."
Tim blinked. Twice.
"Is it all right if I take off the tape? Blink twice."
Blink. Blink.
Ducky took it off as gently as he could. Tim breathed in more deeply through his open mouth, but he still didn't move.
"McGee, who did this?"
Tim made strange sounds, but they weren't words. His mouth moved, but it wasn't to form sentences. Incomprehensible syllables fell from his lips. His eyes were panicked, but he didn't move...except for his mouth as he breathed in and out with no regard for the sound he was making.
"Calm down, Timothy. Calm down. Don't try to speak," Ducky said. "Did they hurt you other than putting you in here?"
More sounds came out. Ducky immediately put his hand over Tim's mouth.
"No, Timothy. Just blink. Twice for yes. Once for no. Did they hurt you?"
Blink. Blink.
"All right. We'll see what we can see. Mr. Palmer, if you could assist me?"
"Of...of course, Doctor." Jimmy came hesitantly up to the table and looked at Tim lying motionless on the table, most of his body still within the confines of the body bag. He finished unzipping the bag and gasped at Tim's bare ankles. They were rubbed raw. They quickly left his mind, however, when he saw Tim's blood-soaked pants. "Doctor Mallard!"
"Oh, dear," Ducky said and silently gestured for Jimmy to cut open his pants. He did so and it revealed bloody, shredded skin. There were splintered bones sticking out of both legs. Jimmy pressed bandages over the wounds. They turned red.
More tears fell from Tim's eyes and he looked at Gibbs, seemingly trying to convey an important message, but no words came from him.
"We had better call an ambulance."
Those words triggered an immediate reaction. Tim's unintelligible noises increased in both volume and frequency.
"What is it, Timothy? You need to go to the hospital. This more than I can treat here."
Blink. ...only once.
"You are seriously injured."
Blink.
"McGee, do you think the people who did this will be watching for you?"
Tim just stared...and made more noises. Ducky gestured to Jimmy.
"Stay with him, Mr. Palmer."
"Yes, Doctor." Jimmy looked at Tim and tried to smile encouragingly. "Do you want me to take off the rest of the tape, McGee?"
Blink. Blink.
"Okay." Carefully, he began to cut off the duct tape, freeing Tim's limp limbs. He could hear Ducky and Gibbs talking in low voices, but he concentrated on causing as little additional pain as he could.
Tim just lay without moving.
"Does it hurt, McGee?"
Blink. Blink.
"I'm sorry."
Tim stared as much as to say, "it's not your fault."
Behind them, Gibbs asked, "What's wrong with him, Ducky?"
"I have no idea, Jethro. If he were dead, I could cut him open and tell you, but as it is, it could be a stroke, a lesion, psychological or physical trauma; it could a drug. I honestly don't know. What I do know is that if Timothy does not receive medical attention for his injuries, he'll more than likely die, from shock if nothing else. Who knows how long he's been this way. It's at least a four-hour drive from New York to here."
Gibbs looked back at Tim, still mostly encased in the bag, Jimmy slowly removing the duct tape which seemed unnecessary considering Tim's current state.
What in the world is going on?