Tim woke in his bed, confused, finding Gibbs asleep in a chair nearby. He winced, when he attempted to sit, withholding a cry when he felt a stab of pain in his side, gently applying pressure. He realized he was dressed in one of his old-worn t-shirts and pajama bottoms. He brushed his fingertips over his left eyebrow, finding a bandage. He now, started to recall how his uncle had found him in the park then convincing him to return home; he would have been dead if it wasn't for Jethro.
The images of Ziva playing on that tunnel wall quickly crept back into his memory, becoming paramount; creating a strong desire to return to the tunnel. The moving images he'd seen of his lost wife more than likely had been a dream; triggering peaceful and pleasant emotions; feelings he hadn't experienced since before her murder. But,the visions had been so strong and vivid; he could remember each detail and motion as if he had been doing those things with her. The encounter had lessened his guilt and heartache allowing him to feel as though he could breath, again.
He needed to know if the images had just been in his head; conjured up by a man losing his mind or had they been real? Could he see them only at night? They had brought the only feeling of hope and calm he had felt within the last two weeks; and desperately longed for.
Tim shut his eyes when he heard Gibbs groan. He feigned sleep not wanting to deal with his questions. He felt a welcoming comfort when Gibbs' rested his warm, open palm on his chest, "How ya feeling, Tim?"
Tim hesitated then opened his eyes, keeping them fixed on the ceiling. He shrugged. "Not bad, I suppose."
"Well, you don't sound good. What were you thinking last night?" Gibbs retorted. He sighed, feeling guilty for coming down on him but his actions the previous night frustrated him.
Tim abruptly sat up, wincing while leaning on a bent elbow. "Don't you get it? I'll never be...good, Jethro." Tim pressed his fingers over his eyes, realizing who he was talking to, ashamed. He sighed then fell back down. "I'm sorry... of course you get it."
"It's okay, kid."
"How did you ever recover from something like this, Jethro?"
"You might not believe me now, but... you will. With my help...Ducky's, Tony's and even Ab's." Tim gave him a doubtful glance as he rose, slowly and left the bedroom heading towards the kitchen. He was standing at the counter in front of the coffeemaker, when Gibbs entered the room.
Gibbs could see him fumble with the machine, unable to muster enough concentration to perform the simple task of measuring coffee. He startled when Tim whipped the plastic measuring cup, he was holding, against the wall then held his side waiting for the pain in his chest to subside.
"Tim. Let me get that for you. Go relax on the couch and I'll get you some aspirin. I'm going to call Ducky over-"
Gibbs could see the plea in Tim's eyes, "No...you don't have to do that. I'll be okay."
"You're hurtin kid. It's that or I'll drag you by your wrists to the emergency room." Tim sighed as he turned, but Gibbs stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. "Wait." He reached towards the freezer, opening the door and grabbing a bag of frozen peas. "Here. Put this on your jaw." Tim snatched the bag, securing it against his face with annoyance then leaned back against the counter.
Gibbs took a moment to look over the apartment. Clothes were strewn on the floor, piles of newspapaers and unopened mail covered the kitchen table and the place needed a good dusting. A tear came to his eye looking at the deflating balloons, bouncing near his feet and in the other room along with a pink banner that hung from the kitchen's door frame, declaring the coming of a baby girl. Tim followed his uncle's gaze to the balloons. "Please. Do not make me get rid of the balloons yet." Tim dropped his gaze to the counter unable to face his uncle.
Gibbs rubbed his face, letting out a stream of tense air knowing it would be a while before Tim could make it to a point in his life where he could function normally again and on a daily basis. Gibbs resumed working the coffee machine as Tim picked up the small,leather case that held Ziva's Medal of Valor off the counter as he did every morning since he received it. She had witnessed a robbery in a convenience store and a bullet had killed her because she had pushed a small boy out of the line of fire, saving the child from imminent death. Tim didn't know much about the boy except for the fact he had a thick, head of black hair, freckles and there had been an abandoned skateboard at the crime scene.
Tim stared at the medal in his hand. "Let me just say this kid better find the cure for cancer some day."
"I know you don't mean that, Tim. Tell me you wouldn't have done the same."
"Of course, I would have done the same but she was also responsible for the protection of our daughter's life during that critical moment. I not only lost the only woman I will ever love, but our unborn daughter because of her dedication to her line of work. Why couldn't... just this one time... her wife and parent instincts have been stronger than her federal agent ones?"
"Ziva was off duty, Tim. And I'm sure the thought of standing down never even occurred to her. She saw the danger that innocent little boy was in and that was all that mattered. She instictively thought both ways; it was just someone else's child."
"She chose! But, I guess that just makes me a selfish bastard for thinking this way."
Gibbs grabbed Tim's shoulders to face him and asked quietly, "Tim. Are you mad at her? It's okay if you are-"
"Yes! I am!...I mean...no!" Tim tossed the open case that held the medal onto the counter then walked to the couch, dropping onto it, facing away from Gibbs to hide his tears. "I can't be mad at her...I'm mad at what...happened."
Gibbs thoughtfully watched him. "I'm not helping right now, am I?" he asked.
"No. You're not." Tim answered, quietly. He held his side and Gibbs could tell he was in a lot of pain. He hesitated then dialed Ducky's number.
"Hey Duck. Could you come over to Tim's place? Yeah, that would be a good idea. Thanks."
"I wish you hadn't called, Duck, Jethro. I can handle this." Tim looked at Gibbs, petulantly then looked away.
"I know buddy. I know you can." Gibbs mumbled to himself. He pressed the button to start the coffee maker, then let the familiar sound of the gurgling water draw in his focus.
xx
Ducky sat across from the couch Tim sat in, holding his chin to get a better look at the bruises that marred his face. Gibbs stood behind Ducky, his hands on his hips and his expression stern.
"Timothy, I beg you to promise me, no more late night strolls in the park after midnight."
"Sorry, Duck I can't. It's what Ziva loved to do whenever it was a full moon and I-"
"Then just say it for the benefit of my own content and well-being."
Tim gave Duck a soft smirk. "I promise... even though I really don't."
Ducky answered him with a small grin and furrowed brows, sighing, "Well, if that's the best I'll get...I know Timothy, you are having trouble trying to sleep at night, but haven't you ever heard of drinking warm milk or... counting sheep or watching boring, mind-numbing, godforsaken, infomercials?"
"If anything, infomercials keep me awake. I own half their products. I have a snuggie..." Tim pointed out to Ducky the blanket with arm holes that lay in a ball on the couch next to him, "I have a bowflex in my bedroom and a George Foreman grill in the kitchen. Infomercials just make me want to... shop. I've tried warm milk, baths, chamomile tea, reading, Melatonin... I've tried everything, Duck-"
"I can prescribe-"
"No thanks. I don't think that would be a good idea right now.I already have enough problems without getting addicted to prescription drugs."
"I see. I can understand your dilemma young man. Well, then at least arm yourself when you go out."
Tim looked down at his hands that were twisting in his lap.
Ducky turned to face Gibbs. "Jethro. You're his uncle. Don't you have any say in all this?"
"He's a big boy, Duck. He's going to do what he feels he needs to, to keep himself from going crazy for the time being. But, don't worry, I'm going to do what I can. I intend to move in for the next few weeks-
"Jethro!"
Ducky placed his hands on Tim's shoulders to calm him. "Do this for us, Timothy. We all care about you...I love you like my own; please remember we are worried about you."
Tim kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with the man. He finally whispered, "Sorry."
Duck tousled his hair, then smiled, "It's okay, but if I can guilt you into taking better care of yourself, so be it. Let me check your vitals, Timothy. Lift your shirt. Jethro says you have been showing signs of pain in your side. These men who attacked you...how many were there?"
"I dunno, maybe, three? My ribs are just a little sore, nothing major, I'm fine, Duck."
Ducky's eyes widened seeing Tim's bruised torso once he lifted his shirt, then glared at Gibbs.
"Nothing major? Hmmm, hmmm. Uh..Jethro, have you seen the 'nothing major' contusions covering Timothy's stomach?"
"Tim! If you weren't already so beat up I'd headslap you into next week."
Tim rolled his eyes, frowning.
Ducky slowly ran his fingers up and down his sides, causing Tim to grimace. "If you ask me I think Jethro should tie you down to the bed-"
"Ducky-" Tim snapped his mouth shut when he realized the two men were glaring at him, sharing the same expression of anger.
Tim's face reddened. "Really...I'm okay you, two."
"You are moving in with him tonight, correct Jethro?"
"I'll do my best as long as he doesn't kick my ass out."
Tim attempted a meek smile to lighten their moods, but they wouldn't budge. "I'm not going to go anywhere...okay?" He announced as he felt guilty knowing he would leave after Gibbs had fallen asleep. He collapsed backwards, resting his head on the back of the couch to stare, blankly at the ceiling.
xx
Tim waited; watching Gibbs and Tony, attentively to make sure they were asleep. They had both conked out on the couch while they were all watching a movie that Tony had brought over.
He silently reached under the couch to grab Ziva's knife, concealing it in the inside of his jacket. He crossed the room, furtively, opening the door as he kept his eyes on them, then closing it behind him. He listened for the click of the door to make sure it had closed then continued down the hall to the elevator.
Gibbs eyes opened at the sound of the closing door. He rubbed his eyes then nudged Tony awake.
xxx
The air was colder than the previous night but this time he had dressed warmer, preparing to spend a significant amount of time in the park, examining the tunnel...and waiting. Now, he was filled with a purpose as he practically ran to the same spot he was the night before. The tunnel was vacant and he was relieved the group of men that had attacked him the night before weren't there. He had brought a penlight to inspect the stones on the interior of the tunnel closely, knowing, deep down he would probably find nothing; unusual. He exhaled, exasperated then ran to the outside shining the light on the stones of the exterior. He felt around with his hands, not sure what it was he was looking for. He placed his hands on hips in confusion not finding anything extraordinary.
"Well, McGee, you've finally lost you marbles." He said to himself, loudly. "But, if there was anyone who had the power of helping you on your way, it'd be you, hon." He smiled, knowing if Ziva were there with him she'd be punching him in the arm then apologetically, pulling him in close for a long kiss.
Tim reentered the tunnel and leaned against the wall where Gibbs had found him on the ground the night before; waiting for a glimpse of the woman he loved to reappear on the opposite wall.
He heard a scuffle that startled him, "What the hell is wrong with you, didn't we beat you enough last night?"
Tim ignored them bringing his attention back to the wall ...waiting.
"You slow? Or are you just asking for us to beat you to death?"
The man shoved Tim. Tim hesitated then he pulled Ziva's knife out from the inside of his jacket hoping he wouldn't have to use it. He stood rigid and unafraid, wishing they would just leave.
The man stepped back with his hands raised. "Hey, I got no problem if you want to share the tunnel with us. Do you think that would be okay, Marcus?" The man nudged his sidekick.
"I have no problem with that, man."
"Hey, me neither," said a third.
Tim knew they weren't ready to back down and waited as they continued to step away from him. Another man from the group rounded the corner of the tunnel, startled to see the weapon in Tim's hand.
"We'll just hang over there and keep out of your hair." The man pulled at his buddies' arms as Tim kept his eyes on them, keeping the knife firmly in his grip, ready for action. "Don't worry about us." The guy gave a quick glance to his entourage, then they suddenly charged him.
Tim held his own, for a while but the knife was knocked from his hand when his old injuries were hit again, causing him to drop to his knees in pain. He tried to stand until he felt the knife enter his abdomen. He dropped to his side, his vision darkening. A shot rang out and they quickly dispersed. One of them dropped the knife by Tim's side. Tim used what little strength he had to grab it, valuing its sentimental value.
Tonight the images started instantly, projecting from some unknown source lighting up the far wall of the tunnel. He rolled to his side, a serenity enveloping him; a warmth and feeling of love that reminded him of times spent in Ziva's presence. He felt lightheaded and his pain subsided as an expression of peace washed over his face while watching the images. Reaching out his arm, he yearned to touch the light. Hands rolled him to his back applying pressure to the knife wound as he yelled out in pain. He kept his head twisted to the side so he could continue to view the images.
"Probie! Buddy, you're going to be okay! Just hang on for me!"
"It's Ziva. I see her, Tony."
"No, Tim." Gibbs patted his face. "Tony, call the ambulance! Stay with me, Tim." Gibbs' voice was desperate. He pinned Tim's shoulder to keep him on his back but he was adamant and fought him trying to roll back to his side.
"Ziva! No, Jethro, you have to let me go!"
"No, you don't Tim, you stay with me." Gibbs shook his shoulders when he could see that Tim had blacked out. "Tim!"
A bright light out of the corner of Gibbs' vision brought his attention to the far wall. He felt as if he was having an out of body experience when he saw an image playing on its surface.
"Boss, what is it? Do you see something?" Tony looked at Gibbs, questioningly.
A brief smile ghosted Gibbs face and an instant warmth coursed through his body. He frowned when the images vanished. Tony was looking at the wall where Gibbs had but nothing registered on his face.
"Boss? What is it?"
Gibbs kept his eyes on the wall. "I just saw...Shannon."