AN: Once more: Don't Panic! Read to the end before tarring and feathering me!
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Tony looked down at the blank report he was attempting to write with a far off gaze, he just couldn't get over all that had happened... Jeez, less than six hours before.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Tony yelled, incensed that the CIA would poke it's nose in at the worst possible moment for his team.
"They are here to show support for Agent McGee, they are his team." Vance sighed out, wanting the explanation over as quickly as possible.
"Like Hell!" Tony jumped to his feet, unwilling to believe such an obvious lie.
"Tony!" Gibbs, though shocked at the news, tried to calm his SFA. They needed more information before jumping to conclusions.
"We're his team! You CIA monkeys can take whatever game you're trying to play and go kiss my ass- it isn't funny!"
"Well, you mustn't have been very good teammates to him if Tim decided to call on us instead of you when hurt." Kort smirked, nearly getting a fist in the face from Tony who was barely held back by Gibbs.
Tony shook off the rest of the memories that followed with a sigh.
It hurt that his partner, his friend, had been living a double life all this time without telling him; but what hurt more was knowing he could now never confront him about it.
Finally getting the energy up to start his report, Tony ignored the empty desk off to his right and tried to recall everything he could about the shooting- they needed every last detail each of them could recall if they were to go after whoever it was who had taken his Probie away from them.
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Abby shuffled about her lab, nervously adjusting her inanimate 'babies' while watching the clock count down the minutes until her meeting with Vance was to take place.
She had nothing to worry about, she kept telling herself, she had done nothing wrong!
It was all McGee's fault anyway, including her humiliation at the hospital earlier...
"Before we get into any further detail, Director," Kort calmly said while ignoring the seething Italian who was ready to take his head off, "I would greatly appreciate it if you could remove the security risk from the room." A pointed look Abby's way had all eyes on her.
Raising to her feet in indignation at the jab, Abby lay into the man before her secure in the knowledge that she was in the right and would have the backing of her Silver-haired Fox even if she wasn't.
"What the hell is your problem?!"
"Mexico." The simple reply threw her for a moment, but realization quickly surfaced and she turned for help only to be met by uncomprehending but stony faces.
"What is he talking about, Abs?" Tony asked, his curiosity the first thing to recover in the silence of the room.
Going red at the accusatory tone that had been directed towards her of all people, Abby gave a stomp of her foot and flounced out of the room; never even turning back when her Silver Fox finally came to his senses and called after her.
Working herself up to a proper seethe over the unfairness of it all, Abby finally left her lab and headed up to the Director's office.
This was all Timmy's fault! And she couldn't even take it out on him now like she was used to doing!
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Ziva had taken over the break room, meticulously sharpening her knives while cursing herself in every language she knew for not having seen Tim's potential before it was too late.
"Agent McGee has, since he began consulting for the CIA during Sheppard's reign- and no, Agent Gibbs, she was not aware of it- brought down more terrorists, drug lords, gun runners and any other baddie you can think of than all the rest of you combined. And yes, Agent David, that is taking into consideration your outstanding record with Mossad."
Ziva wished she could go back in time now, work alongside McGee as a true partner rather than constantly bully him for being weak when he clearly wasn't.
This was a failure on her part that she could not soon forget, and now she could not even beg for forgiveness as that was no-longer an option.
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Gibbs gazed unseeingly into the dark depths of his coffee cup as his mind wandered over his newest failure.
Just as the stream of information concerning what his youngest agent had been doing right under his nose threatened to overwhelm the Team Leader the door to the waiting area opened and in stepped a doctor in surgical scrubs.
No-one spoke a word until the doctor had said his piece and left them to themselves again.
"It's not true... is it? McGee... he can't be..."
"Tony..."
"NO! He can't be dead! McGee can't..." Wrapping his shocked agent in a rare hug, Gibbs watched impassively as Kort and his unintroduced cronies left the room.
He would have to find them later, question them on who would want to do this to his Agent- their Agent, it seemed- but for now he had a broken team to console.
Tossing his cold and untasted coffee away, Gibbs forced himself to return to the too quiet bullpen and face the empty and accusatory desk in front of him.
If only he had known, if only he had made an effort to know Tim better, he may have been able to protect him; but now...
He had work to do, the bastard behind this was going to pay.
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Ducky had just one question on his lips as his assistant finally reappeared from his long sojourn at the hospital, their newest- and most grieved for- guest in tow.
"Why, Mr. Palmer? Why did he never say a word to me?" Jimmy took a deep breath before meeting his mentors eyes, knowing already that only the truth would be acceptable in this moment.
"You have been Agent Gibbs' friend for a long time, Doctor, he didn't want to put you in an awkward position by confiding in you something you may have had to act on that would have disrupted that friendship."
"Alright. But then why did he transfer his medical care to you without telling me? Why didn't you tell me, Mr. Palmer?" Jimmy looked down at the bagged body he had just brought in as if asking for strength before replying.
"'Swim, Tim.'" He said in a flat voice.
It took a moment, but eventually the elderly doctor's eyes cleared with the memory.
A hot tub, a hazmat situation, his ignoring the health hazard the Team Lead had put his Junior Agent in.
Ducky gave a heavy sigh, feeling every single one of his many years for the first time in a long time, and retreated to his office to compose himself; leaving his young assistant to prep the body of the young man he had long thought a friend but had wronged too terribly to truly still call one.
Finally settled enough to do his duty, Ducky emerged from his office and approached the table Jimmy had laid their newest guest out on- and had to bite back a gasp of surprise.
"Mr. Palmer?" The old ME asked as he looked over the paper work from the hospital, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I accompanied him straight from the operating room to here, Doctor. We couldn't have Tim getting lost on us, now could we?" Eyes twinkling as he hadn't thought they ever would again only moments before, Ducky took up a scalpel and began to work.
"Well, my dear... let us see what you can tell us."
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Abby sat stonily across from the Director of NCIS, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming imprecations at him that would only further harm her career.
"After just a cursory examination of all of the buried reports filled against you- Cyber Crimes is going to have a field day figuring out how that happened, I'm sure- I am putting you on unpaid suspension for the foreseeable future with a mandatory psych evaluation scheduled to take place at the end of the week. Gather your personal belongings and remove yourself from the building within the hour." Standing stiffly, Abby headed to the door; only to be brought up short as she was called back.
"Miss Scuito? I wouldn't recommend going far, not until after the full investigation into your actions in Mexico has been resolved." Nodding quietly the Lab Rat scurried out, unable to understand how things had gotten to this point.
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Team Gibbs, Dr. Mallard, Jimmy and the Director all stood in Autopsy around a table holding a body, the body Jimmy had brought back with him from the hospital.
No-one said a word for several long moments.
"Where is he?" Tony asked, needing to know.
"Safe." Jimmy replied, refusing to let on that that was as much as he knew too.
"So who is this?" Vance waved a hand over the body on the table, uncertain himself as to where it came from. Dead bodies didn't just pop-up from nowhere.
"One of the unfortunate homeless, I'm afraid. Took a nasty spill and cracked their head open from what I could find. But Mr. Palmer here was quick to see that they had the correct height and build to pass as our dear Timothy, at least if one never opened the bag." Ducky explained, allowing his own relief at finding out that young Timothy was alive and well to bleed through in his tone.
Gibbs turned a questioning eye on the Director, who answered without ever looking away from the unfortunate young woman on the slab who had made their ruse possible.
"SOP, Agent Gibbs, Standard Operating Procedure for all undercover CIA Agents with active enemies that have been attacked while not undercover. They go deep until it is ascertained if it is safe for them to surface again."
"So it could be years before we see McGee again, yes?" Ziva asked not wanting to think of the other option, the one that said that they may never see their friend again.
"Years, or until those after him are no longer able to do so. Whichever comes first, Agent David." Giving the group a nod, Vance turned to go. Whatever these people- this team- chose to do from here it was a safe bet that he would need to be able to claim plausible deniability for it.
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Tm slowly worked his way back into consciousness, aware of a dull ache in his chest and not much else.
Blinking his eyes open, Tim let dry lips form a smile as his favorite be-stubbled face came into view.
"Eric, you have no idea how worried I've been!" Kort gushed, giving Tim all he needed to know to play along as the doctors and nurses descended on him.
Playing along willingly, trusting that he would be told what was going on once they were in a secure location and he was more able to focus properly, Tim answered all the questions put to him with the information from his Eric Keel identity.
"When can I go home?" He finally asked as the questions began winding down.
"Tomorrow if no complications set in tonight, Mr. Keel, you were very lucky: the bullet passed straight through without doing anything more than breaking a single rib. A fraction of an inch in any direction and it would have been a far different story."
"Thank you, doctor, for all you've done. But I'll be happy to get out of here," Tim then turned to smile up a Kort who was hovering by his bedside once more, "and I'm sure my husband will be happy to finally take me home too." He tacked on with a smile, loving that he could call Trent his husband while using the Keel identity; even if he didn't know why he was doing so yet.