Chapter 2: Seeing, They See Not

Ducky followed Gibbs' gaze and then spoke again. "Jethro, I don't care if you send all of NCIS as a guard; Timothy must be treated in a hospital. Otherwise, he really will belong in that body bag."

Gibbs looked away from Tim to Ducky and nodded. That was as far as he got in his capitulation before his phone started to ring. He sighed when he saw that it was Jenny.

"Gibbs," he said shortly.

"Jethro, have you heard from McGee recently?"

Gibbs looked over at Tim once more. He was making those same incomprehensible sounds again. "Yes."

"When?" Jenny asked, impatiently. "I just had a rather annoyed phone call from Lisa Daley in New York. He's missed two of the last three meetings and she wants to know why NCIS is treating terrorism so lightly. She expected better of us...and to tell the truth, I expected more of McGee. Where is he?"

"I'm looking at him right now, Jen. He's in Autopsy."

"What is he doing there? He's supposed to be in New York."

"Laying on one of Ducky's tables."

There was a long silence and then, "Jethro..."

"He's alive, but he's been injured. Ducky's calling for an ambulance right now."

"What happened?"

"I have no idea. Ducky opened a body bag apparently sent by McGee from New York and McGee was inside."

"Inside?! Did...is he conscious?"

"Conscious, yes. Coherent, no. I can't tell you anything about what happened. He seems to be scared about going to a hospital, but other than that..."

"What do you need?"

"Just Tony and Ziva for now. We'll see when McGee starts talking again. I think we need to open a case on this, Jen."

"Absolutely. Anything you need." She paused again. "Have you told Abby yet?"

Gibbs winced. "No, but I'd better."

"Yes, you had."

Gibbs sighed.

"Just remember to tell her that he's alive."

Gibbs didn't answer. Instead he hung up the phone.

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

Tim's view was rather restricted. He could see around, but he couldn't seem to move. He wasn't sure why. He could feel every part of his body...particularly his legs. He could really feel his legs. He could remember the feeling of the bones being crushed. More tears. Why did this happen to me? Why did they do this?

"Timothy?" Ducky was leaning over him again. "I've called an ambulance. They should be here soon."

No! No! I can't leave! No! Tim tried to say the words, but all he heard were strange, nearly animal-like noises. What's wrong with me? Why can't I speak? Why can't I move? What's going on?

"Timothy, please calm down! Tony and Ziva are coming. They will guard you. As will Gibbs. You will be perfectly safe."

Safe? Safe?! I've been trapped inside a body bag, Ducky! No place is safe! Tim tried and tried to get the message across, but all he succeeded in doing was flailing his arms once, leaving his left arm on his stomach and his right arm somewhere near his head. ...at least he had moved. Then, he saw Ducky staring at his chest.

"Jethro, look at this," he said.

"What is it, Ducky?" Gibbs came and loomed and Tim saw that fierce anger swell up in his eyes.

Tim managed to flail again, slightly more in control this time so that his left arm landed near Gibbs and his right arm near Ducky. He attempted to grab onto them, but that action seemed to be beyond his abilities.

What's going on? Why are you staring at me like that? What happened? Help! Help! Tim opened his mouth again and all that came out was a panicked shriek.

Immediately, Ducky looked him in the eye. "It's all right, Timothy. You're not hurt...at least not anymore than we can see right now. Mr. Palmer, the camera, if you please?"

"Yes, Doctor." Tim watched Jimmy recede from his line of sight and then return and focus the camera on his chest. He snapped a couple of photos. "Is that enough?"

"Yes, that will do, Mr. Palmer. Thank you."

"Yes, Dr. Mallard." Jimmy then made eye contact with Tim. "McGee...do you remember what happened?"

Tim wanted to nod. He wanted to scream at them and tell them everything...but he couldn't. The words were in his head, but they weren't in his mouth. Instead, he blinked. Twice.

Then, the doors to Autopsy opened. Tim heard them...and he heard two simultaneous intakes of breath. Tony! Ziva! Help me! I can't move! Tim thought desperately. ...but only strange sounds came out of his mouth. Tim flailed again, his left hand actually hitting Gibbs. He tried to grab on, but his fingers wouldn't do as he told them.

"McGee!" "Probie!" The two exclamations shortly brought Tony and Ziva to stand over him. Tim felt humiliated at his current position, but he was also afraid...because they looked afraid.

"What happened?" Ziva asked.

Before Tim could embarrass himself further by gabbling meaninglessly, Ducky answered, "We don't know yet. All we know is that Timothy was injured and somehow forced back here, unable to speak or move much."

"Couldn't you take him out of the bag?" Tony asked. "That's really...disconcerting."

"I don't want to jostle him more than he most likely has been already."

Don't make me leave! Please, let me stay here! Tim begged silently. He turned his eyes from Tony and Ziva back to Gibbs. Please, Boss! No!

Then, he realized that he had started making noise again. Tony and Ziva were horrified...and it was just too much. Tim began to cry, his mouth still moving as he tried to break through whatever was holding him back, keeping him from speaking, from moving. The sounds didn't stop when he inhaled. They just took on a different tone. Tim really wanted to speak, but he couldn't. He felt as though he was a prisoner.

The doors opened once more. Tim didn't hear them, but he heard the Abby-shriek and then, almost before he saw her, he was being lifted and hugged. Vaguely, he heard Ducky asking her to put him back down, to be careful. Tim just closed his eyes and tried to pretend that he was just being hugged by Abby, that there was nothing wrong, that in moments Gibbs would walk into the lab and make a comment about them needing to get back to work. He almost succeeded.

Almost...and his palpable anguish, both physical and mental kept the others from seeing.

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

Jenny hung up the phone and put her hands to her temples. It was bad enough getting that call from Lisa. It was bad enough hearing the report from Gibbs. This latest call...it was worse.

"How can things get any worse than this?" she asked the empty office. She was about to stand and go down to Autopsy herself when Cynthia buzzed her. She sighed. She had a feeling it was about to get worse. "What is it, Cynthia?"

"You have an urgent call in MTAC. Classified."

"Trouble obviously doesn't only come in threes, then."

"Ma'am?"

"Never mind. Tell them I'll be right there."

"Yes, ma'am."

Jenny leaned back and sighed again. She knew that it couldn't be over yet...even if it had been six months...but she had hoped that it was. Well, the MTAC call wouldn't go away just because she wanted to avoid it. One more deep sigh and she stood, walked around her desk and then out the door and to MTAC. She thought that she knew who it would be.

She was right.

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

Tim had managed, even with only marginally-functional limbs to whack one of the EMTs in the face when they tried to put the neck brace on. He was still speaking incomprehensibly, but the panic was such that even if he had been able to speak, his words would more than likely have been garbled.

"Tim! Stop that!" Abby said, trying to help.

Tim blinked once. Then, he blinked again. Another pause. Another blink.

"You'll be safe, Tim! We're going with you! You won't be alone! I promise!"

Tim's screams almost drown her out, but she turned his head toward her. She didn't say anything, but she kept looking at him, not letting him look away. Gradually, Tim stopped screaming. He stared at her. Slowly, she put her hand over his mouth, stilling his crazed ramblings. Tim didn't struggle as the EMT, rubbing his nose and wincing, put the neck brace on.

"We're all going, right, Gibbs?" Abby asked.

Gibbs nodded. "You ride with him. The rest of us will follow behind."

"Okay." Abby helped the EMTs move Tim to the gurney and then, she went out with them.

"Boss, McGee's never going to want to leave NCIS again at this rate," Tony said. "Do you know how long it took us to get him to stop looking over his shoulder enough to go to New York?"

"Four months, two weeks, three days, and five hours," Ziva answered.

Tony looked at her in surprise. "You counted?"

"I did not need to count. I just remembered."

"As soon as McGee calms down, we'll be heading to New York. I want to find out what happened whether from McGee or from the people there." With that, Gibbs strode out. Ziva and Tony followed.

Jimmy looked at Ducky. "Are we going, Doctor?"

"Put our lieutenant away. Of course, we're going, Mr. Palmer."

Jimmy nodded. Within five minutes, Autopsy was empty.

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

"I don't like being kept waiting," Jenny said icily. "I was told this was urgent. I have other urgent matters needing my attention."

"Nice to hear your lovely voice again, Director Shephard. It is extremely urgent. I need to speak to your Agent McGee."

"Why?"

"We have a big problem...and I have reason to believe he might be in danger."

Jenny looked at the man on the screen and tried to tamp down on her anger and frustration. He was generally rather easy to get along with...in a strange way.

"Could you please get to the point?"

"Certainly. Remember these people?" Two photos appeared on the screen.

"Yes. Why?"

"They're currently at large."

"At large?"

"Yes."

"How did that happen?"

"Sloppiness on the job is not at issue here."

"Well...you're a little late telling us."

"Why?"

"Because Agent McGee is currently on his way to the hospital...after traveling via body bag as near as we can tell from New York City to the Navy Yard."

"How do you know that's because of us?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you believe in coincidences?"

"Actually, I do...although not in this case."

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Well, you'd do well to keep him under guard."

"Don't tell me how to do my job. You should focus on your own. It sounds like you've been having some trouble with that. Tell me: Is the CIA always this sloppily run?"

He grinned. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Jenny did not grin. "No. I'm not."

"Well, that makes one of us then. I'll need to speak to Agent McGee. I shouldn't need to mention this, but this has to be classified."

"Why is that?" Jenny asked. "Give me one good reason not to let the media know that the CIA has screwed up...again."

"Because there's more to it than Agent McGee."

"What more?"

"Forgive me if I keep some things to myself at the moment. I'll need to speak to Agent McGee...as soon as is recommended by his doctors. I'll be keeping tabs. Honesty will help us all get through this better."

"You're one to speak of honesty."

"I've been honest. I'm honestly not telling you everything. That's need to know and you don't. Not yet." Then, he signed off.

Jenny stared at the blank screen where CIA Director Levi Carew had been moments before. So...they were free. That was a definite problem. The sooner the others knew, the better. She pulled off the headset and walked out of MTAC.