Chapter 2

Three days earlier...

"What, Sarah."

"What do you mean, what?" Sarah asked, all wide-eyed innocence.

"I know that look. It's the look that says you're holding something back."

"Well..."

"Spit it out," Tim said glumly. "Tell me how it is that I messed up this time."

"Well...Tim..." Sarah actually looked reluctant, and Tim figured that must mean it was bad. "...you were acting pretty desperate...based on what you told me." At his expression, she hurried on. "Not that you necessarily are really desperate, but it comes off that way...just because...you know..."

"What?" Tim asked and looked at the water shooting up from the fountains at the U.S. Navy Memorial. It was quite pretty, glinting in the sun.

It should be stormy. Days shouldn't be so nice when I'm so miserable.

"...you just don't come across as a very..." Sarah was grasping for inoffensive words.

"Just tell me, Sarah. I know it's bad when you're trying to be nice to me."

"You don't seem very manly, Tim. I mean that in the nicest possible way! ...but you just seem..."

"Like a geek?" he finished.

"Yeah."

Tim let out a small hoot of unamused laughter. "Yeah, that's what I figured." He sighed. "That's how everyone sees me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it works with virtual strangers, too." He was so tired of the perception, but it was something he couldn't seem to shake.

"Not everyone sees you that way."

"Who doesn't, Sarah?" Tim asked, forcing himself to smile, like it didn't bother him. "I can't think of a single person...from any time, actually. ...and don't even think of trying to say that you don't. I know you do." He stood up and walked over to the fountain, staring at the water still trickling prettily into the pool. This shouldn't bother him so much. He knew he was a geek, always had been, always would be. So...why was it so painful to have that be all anyone thought of him?

Because I'm more than that...aren't I?

"Tim, you asked me and I told you what I thought. It doesn't mean I'm right."

Tim laughed outright. "As you have pointed out numerous times, you are the one who knows about people. I know about computers." He looked at his watch. "I have to go. I have a meeting with my publisher. She says she needs to get me back on track. Do you need a ride anywhere?"

"No. I'm meeting one of my friends at the Gallery of Art. She has an assignment due and I said I'd keep her company. It's not far."

"All right. See you later."

"Tim..."

Tim smiled again. "Don't worry, Sarah. I'm a geek. I've always known that." He walked away. The whole drive over to his publisher, he was thinking about all the times he'd been rejected because he was a geek. There was a reason why he'd told Ziva that there weren't very many women he'd have to track down to see if he'd fathered a child.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I'm sorry, Timothy, but your latest chapters are no good."

"No good?" Tim asked, more surprised that she'd actually read what he'd written than that she didn't like it.

"Well, I was curious to see what you'd do with McGregor as the lead character but, I'm sorry, he has no pizzazz, no interesting stories to tell. He is boring. He's just a nondescript member of the team, doing only those things that are given to him by the important characters, that is, by Agents Tommy and Lisa and Tibbs."

"I thought that this would be a chance to develop another character, give some more depth to the team. McGregor was popular enough in Rock Hollow. He wasn't the main character but he instigated a lot of the action. People liked him. You said so yourself."

"Not popular enough to be the main character. These are the adventures of L.J. Tibbs, not Agent McGregor. You can't develop another character at the expense of the more interesting characters with only two books under your belt, Timothy. You're already behind schedule on this story and the test readers are bored by McGregor. He's good enough as a B character, but he doesn't have the interest to be a lead."

"They don't like the technical aspects?"

"No. Who cares about what computer did what? That works in some genres, but you have already established yourself as a suspense, murder mystery writer. Detectives, not hackers. I'm sorry, Timothy, but this only works so far and these latest chapters have taken it too far. Put McGregor in the background where he belongs. Hint at some interesting things about him if you can, but any sort of further character development will have to wait. Maybe book four...or five."

The geek is boring. I see. I can't even get attention as a fictional character, Tim thought, feeling angry at Lyndi for her callous dismissal of a character he cared about...of a character he had based on himself. Why does the geek belong in the background?

"I'll need the revisions as soon as possible," Lyndi was saying, holding out the rejected pages. This was worse than getting back assignments in school. "Timothy?"

"Right. Thanks, Lyndi." Tim stood up, again, holding back his annoyance. He walked out with Lyndi's insincere compliments ringing in his ears...and her veiled warnings as well.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"No, Tony, I'm not interested," Tim said on the phone. After his conversation with Sarah, his rejection by Lyndi...he didn't really feel like being social.

"Oh, come on, Probie. Who rejected you this time? You just need to shake it off and try again!"

"No, Tony. I told you that I'm not interested."

"Man, you're such a bore, McGee. So many women, so little time. Granted, they'll all be after me, not you, but there's surely one who'll be desperate enough to–"

Tim hung up on him. When his phone rang again, he didn't answer it. Instead, he went to bed.

...but he didn't fall asleep for a long time.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Present...

Tim was careful not to speed. The last thing he felt he needed was a speeding ticket. No, he'd be the responsible driver...since that always bothered everyone he worked with...used to work with. Well, he didn't work with them anymore. He could be responsible, even in his fury. He was already heading west before he even realized that he had a destination in mind.

He was going home...and not because he really wanted to...because he should have gone there two days ago when he'd first found out. He hadn't because...because he didn't want to abandon his team in the middle of a case. He thought he might be needed...

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Two days ago...

"Tim...it's Mom. Give me a call when you have a moment, please. It's important."

Tim listened to the message with concern. If Mom was worried...everyone else ought to be freaked out. He looked around the bullpen. Tony and Ziva had gone with Gibbs...leaving him behind...again. Am I or am I not a field agent?

He sighed morosely. The computer search was running. He had a minute.

"Mom?"

"Oh, Tim. I didn't expect you to call back so fast. I just barely got off the phone with Sarah."

"With Sarah?" Tim's heart sank. It was never good when the whole family was called.

"I was hoping to have some...some news for you."

"News? What about? What's going on?"

"It's your father."

"McGee!"

Abby's voice shocked him out of his focus on his mother's words.

"Not now, Abby," he said, knowing that he was letting his fear out in his own voice.

"Yes. Now!" Abby's hands were on her hips, arms akimbo.

"Is this important?" he asked.

"Yes!"

He sighed. "I'll call you back in a minute," he said into the phone.

"It's all right, Tim. Maybe I'll have something more to tell you. You do have a job to do."

Tim said good-bye and hung up. "What is it, Abby?"

"Gibbs told me that you've stopped paying a dog walker. Instead, you're leaving Jethro all by himself in Gibbs' back yard! All day long!"

"That's it?" Tim asked, flabbergasted. "This is about a dog?"

"A dog?" Abby's voice raised dangerously. "A dog? He's your dog, McGee! You're supposed to care about him! Feed him!"

"I do feed him, Abby."

"You're leaving him all alone! Every day!"

"He's a dog, Abby. He's not a human being. He's fine. It was Gibbs' suggestion."

As he expected, Abby ignored that because that would mean getting angry at Gibbs. She could get angry at Tim. Who cared about the geek?

"Take care of your dog, McGee," she said darkly and stalked away.

Tim leaned back in his chair. The computer dinged its results and Tim reluctantly put off calling his mother again. As she said, he did have a job to do, although...

Abby could have done this. If she has the time to come up here and badger me about Jethro, she has time to run a search, Tim thought bitterly as he pulled out his phone to call Gibbs.

"Boss, I have the results." Tim quickly summarized what he'd found, happy that the data had done what he thought it was going to do.

"How does this help us, McGee?" Gibbs asked, not sounding impressed or grateful at all.

"Uh...well...you have motive now, and possibly where he's been hiding."

"Two things we could have figured out without that. Find something useful!"

Gibbs hung up and Tim was left staring at his phone in surprise. He let out his breath in a shocked whoosh. He'd just finished doing what Gibbs had asked him to do...and now, Gibbs was acting as though Tim's work meant nothing. He shook his head and pulled up the files again. This time, he ran a search collating all the numbers called from the suspect's phone and contrasting it with the times he'd been online elsewhere, based on the tracking he'd already done. It took more than an hour to set up the parameters, but once it was done, the search was running. Again, he dialed his parents' number.

"Naomi."

"Mom. It's me. I'm sorry about that."

"Oh, no. That's all right."

"What's wrong with Dad?"

He heard a long sigh.

"Is he okay?"

"He will be. I hope. Oh, Tim, he had another DVT. He threw the clot."

Tim's blood ran cold. "I...I thought he was on heparin...to stop that from happening again."

"He was. This one was...it seems to have been building for a long time. You know that he can't feel it in his legs."

"I can...I'll come home, Mom."

"No." He could hear her pulling herself together. "Sarah's on break and she's coming, but your father is going to be okay. They have him on anticoagulants and he'll just be in the hospital for a few days while they make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Mom!"

Her voice was now firm, logical. "No, Tim. Your father would hate to know that you gave up the few days of leave you have left just to come and sit at his bedside. I'll keep you updated. It just happened so fast."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Naomi said firmly. "We'll be all right. I'd have Sam tell you himself, but he's sleeping still. Tim, it's going to be okay."

Tim swallowed hard and barely heard his computer ding that it was done with the search he'd set up.

"I promise, Tim. Don't spread it around. You know how your father is about these things."

Tim let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah."

"Leave him his pride," Naomi said, but Tim could hear the smile.

"Tell him that Voltaire said, 'we are rarely proud when we are alone.'"

"I will. Don't worry, Tim. It's going to be all right."

"Okay, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too. Bye."

Tim hung up and stared blankly at the bullpen for a few seconds. The last time his dad had suffered from a deep-vein thrombosis, it had nearly killed him. From what his mother had said, this had been as bad.

His phone rang. Tim jumped and pulled himself back into the present.

"McGee."

"McGee, do you have anything or should I just figure everything out myself?"

It took almost more restraint than he possessed for Tim to refocus on the case. He looked at the search and was vaguely gratified to see what it had turned up. Quickly, he gave the information on the likeliest places for their suspect to get online, the cafes he'd been frequenting, the address he'd called more often than any other in the last few days. When he finished, he heard the telltale click that said Gibbs had hung up on him. Again.

Somewhere deep down, he felt the stirrings of anger. Did no one care about how he was doing? Did they only want information and nothing else? He might be a geek, but that didn't mean he didn't have feelings, that he didn't have worries, concerns, that things went wrong...that he enjoyed being appreciated for the effort he went to in order to get what was needed. He had agreed that he needed to stay here to help work on the case, but...no one cared. Probably, if he told them that his father was in the hospital, they'd shrug that off, too, preferring instead to harp on what else was wrong with him.

It's only a couple of days until the weekend. I can wait until the weekend. I could drive there Friday night and stay for the weekend. Maybe by then, Dad will be okay. It will be all right.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Present...

He realized that he was headed to Ohio and decided that was fitting. He'd sacrificed time with his family during a period of trauma for the team. Now, he had all the time in the world.

His phone rang. He flipped it open and read the origin.

Ducky. Well, I haven't even seen him in the last three days. I suppose I'm not mad at him...but he'll just try to be understanding...and he's not. No one can be.

Still, Tim couldn't help but answer.

"What, Ducky," he said, sullenly, hoping to make Ducky regret calling.

"Well, I can hear that you're still angry, Timothy."

"What do you want? I shouldn't really be driving and talking at the same time. I'm not interested, anyway."

"Interested in what, my boy?"

"I'm not your boy," Tim retorted, knowing that was a stupid thing to say. "I don't work at NCIS anymore. You don't need to pretend to be concerned."

"I'm not pretending, Timothy. I am concerned. What brought this on?"

"If you don't know, Ducky, then, I guess there's no point in explaining it to you," Tim said, feeling angry again. All this time, and Ducky had never noticed, had never seen all the slights, all the derogatory comments, all the derision? How was that even possible when every word Tony said to him was rude, when Gibbs only cared about results and not about the work it took to get there, when Abby cared more about a stupid dog than about someone who was supposed to be her friend.

"Ziva was very worried when she called me."

"Ziva was worried, huh," Tim said, letting sarcasm saturate his voice. "She wasn't worried earlier. I'll bet her infallible senses picked up on something, some vibration in the air as I drove away. I guess she figured out that I was mad...good for her. It only took three days. Three years. Not long at all. No wonder everyone thinks she's more competent than I am. No wonder she thinks she's more competent than I am."

He could barely see through the sheeting rain. It was like the water fountain he and Sarah had visited a few days ago was being directed right at his windshield.

"Timothy, what is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong anymore, Ducky. I've given up trying to work at NCIS, trying to do a job that obviously could be done by someone else...probably with more recognition. I never want to go back. Ever. If I have to see anyone there again, it will be too soon." Tim hung up and focused on the road. It seemed as though there was another layer of water he was seeing through.

"I am not upset," he said furiously to himself. "I'm angry. I'm not crying about it."

In spite of his assertion, a tear slipped down his cheek.