Chapter 7

Once upon a time...

"He claims that he was framed."

"They all do, Probie."

"What do you think, Boss?"

"Something isn't right."

"That's what the evidence shows, Gibbs. Major Mass Spec does not lie."

"Is there a way that someone could have...fooled your machines, Abby?"

"They're machines, Ziva. They can't be fooled. The person running them can be, but I've run the evidence you guys gave me. This is the guy...so far as the evidence is concerned."

"Then, why does it feel wrong?"

"Because you never think that people like you can be the bad guys, Probie."

"McGee, you figure out what it is that doesn't fit. If you don't find anything by tomorrow, we send it on."

"But...Boss..."

"I don't like it, either, but Abby's right: the evidence doesn't lie."

"What if we're wrong?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

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

His eyes opened...and darted back and forth in nervous agitation. He knew, now, what had to be done. There was only one solution. Only one. There was no choice. He had seen what had to happen...too many times. He had to make this the last time. He couldn't take the pain anymore, the pain in his mind that kept him from thinking.

Ignoring the pain that shot through him, through his body, through his mind...never ceasing, he sat up. He pulled out the IV. It was barely a drop in the ocean of agony in which he dwelled. They were there...sleeping. Sleep...the twin of death. His breath came in short spurts that he tried to control...but there was only one thing he could really control. He knew what had to be done.

He slipped out of bed, nearly collapsing on legs too weak to hold him up. He staggered and reached...

...just as Gibbs' eyes opened, but even though Tim was weak, deranged, he was not fast enough to stop him...

...to stop him from taking his gun.

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

First, it had been darkness, absolute and total. Then, he was blinded by lights shining in his eyes. He had no idea how long it lasted but the pain began long before the lights went out. The chair was wired. Tim knew that the first time he felt the electric current. Just enough to cause pain, not enough to cause permanent damage...not right away at any rate. All the while, the blinding light bored into his brain. He hadn't known that continued exposure to light could be so painful. He hadn't grown up in a desert...or on the ocean. He had grown up surrounded by green.

There was a sound...he wasn't sure what it was at first, but it gradually grew louder and louder. It was a roar in his mind, increasing in frequency and pitch, as well as volume. He could feel it in his bones and his entire body trembled with pain that came from every source. Just at the moment he thought he couldn't bear it any longer...everything stopped. Lights out. Silence. The chair began to cool down. The only sound was his breathing.

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

"McGee, what are you doing?" Gibbs was alert immediately, but Tim had moved with a speed no one would have thought possible. He was backed into the corner, the gun pointing at Gibbs' head, his hands shaking, blood dripping down one hand where he had pulled out the IV. His eyes were...the only word was tortured. No other description would do.

"It has to stop. It has to. I can't take it anymore," Tim said. His voice was...strained. His whole body trembled.

"What has to stop?" Gibbs asked, trying to keep his voice low, trying to be calming.

"I can't watch you die again. I can't. I won't. It has to stop!" Tim's voice soared from a whisper to a shriek.

Ziva and Tony both woke up with a start.

"McGee!" Tony began to move, but the gun shifted from Gibbs to Tony...and then, to Ziva. Gibbs held up a hand.

"Quiet, DiNozzo."

"You're all dead!" Tim shouted. "You're all dead! I saw you! I killed you!"

"What are you talking about, Tim?" Gibbs asked, his voice still soft.

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

Then, the movie began. It was so lifelike. It seemed impossible, but it looked real...and horrible. It wasn't long. There was no sound. It didn't need sound. The first time he saw it, Tim was only confused. What was the point of this? Three minutes...loop...three minutes...loop... It went on for ages.

They didn't feed him. At one point, he made the mistake of saying something about food or water...something...but that was a mistake. Water cascaded down from the ceiling, gallons of it. Then, he was shrieking in agony as the electric current surged through him again. Every inch of him strained to get away from the pain, away from the chair. He couldn't. There was no escape. No escape from any of it. There was no time. There was no life. There was nothing. Only him, the pain...and the movie that looped over and over again.

Sometimes, he tried to sleep. On the rare occasions he was allowed to drop off, he was awakened by a jolt of electricity...or someone rebreaking his pinky finger. It was never allowed to heal completely.

The first person that he saw at all...in shadow only, a silhouette against the backdrop of the incessant movie. All the blood, all the fire seemed to seep into his brain. The first person had a whip. The second person...or the first person again...used only his fists. The third visit was a whisper in his ear. Over and over again...

"It's all your fault..."

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

"I killed you! Why won't you just stay dead? I can't keep killing you!" Tim said. Why didn't they understand? Why did they just look at him as if he was crazy? "Just stop hurting me!"

"You never killed us, Tim," Gibbs said. "We're all alive."

"Yes, yes, you are, but you always die again...and I always kill you! I can't do it. I can't keep killing you. I can't keep seeing you die! You have to stop...just die and stay dead!"

"Do you want us to be dead, Tim?" Gibbs asked. He was trying to keep Tim's attention on him only. Tony and Ziva were motionless on his order, but he knew, could sense that they were afraid. This was not someone they could reason with. Both Tony and Ziva were armed...but...shoot Tim? Their friend? Their colleague? The sweet-natured computer geek?

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

"It's all your fault..."

He had tried to deny, tried to explain that he didn't even know what the voice was talking about, but he was so weak, from being beaten, from the electric shock, from fear, from the combination of a million different things. His one weak protest was immediately punished and when his screams died to whimpers of pain, the voice had begun again without any emotion.

"It's all your fault..."

That was the only voice he heard besides the commanding voice that didn't allow him to speak or to move or to close his eyes. It was always whispering. Once it began, it didn't stop. The voice, right beside his ears, as his eyes took in the movie, over and over.

"It's all your fault..."

There were other whispering voices, sinister, evil, painful. It hurt him. The physical pain began to fade, even as the punishments for nothing continued. He saw it. The pain was visual and aural. He was in agony with every moment that the punishments continued. He was no longer watching. He was experiencing. It was not a movie. It was life.

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

"You're already dead! I've already killed you. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over..." Tim repeated the words without stopping, barely even breathing. He just continued the litany. "You come back to life and I kill you again. Dead and alive. Alive and dead. Always. Always. It never stops...and I can't do it anymore. I can't! I can't! Please, die!"

"Do you want us dead, Tim?" Gibbs asked again.

"You're already dead!" Tim screamed. "People shouldn't die and come back to life!"

"Do you want that? Answer me, McGee!"

"NO!" Tim screamed even louder. "But I've already done it! ...and it has to stop!"

"There are two ways it can stop, you shoot me now, it will be over. I'll never be alive again. ...but if you don't shoot me, I won't die again. You have all the power right now, Tim. It's in your control. It's your choice."

"I don't have a choice! I didn't want you to die! I didn't want to kill you! I did!"

"How do you know you killed us? If you didn't want to do it, why did you?"

"I saw it!"

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

In silence, Tim picked up the gun. There was no sound as he pulled back the slide and checked for ammunition. He walked up to Gibbs and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the face three times. Then, he turned to Tony and shot him in the neck four times. Ziva was last. She got the rest of the clip, except for one...right in the heart. Blood spurted from each entrance wound and the bodies fell to the ground in slow motion. There was no sound as he stared at each of them. Then, he turned the gun around to himself.

There was a jolt and the movie looped.

Each jolt swirled in his head, melting down his rational thought into nothing. He had no idea how long he had been there. He began to forget that he had ever not been there. All that existed was the pain, the chair...and him, killing his friends over and over again. He knew he had and he knew he would do it again and he would feel the pain. It never came at the same moment. Sometimes, right at the beginning when he picked up the gun. Sometimes, the pain was constant throughout with extra painful surges with each bullet.

The movie looped.

"There's no way to stop it...only by them being dead."

The movie looped.

"It's your fault."

The movie looped.

"You killed them."

The movie looped.

"You have to do it."

The movie looped.

"Death is the only end."

The movie looped.

"They all are dead."

The movie looped.

"It's all your fault."

The movie looped.

"It's all your fault."

The movie looped.

"It's all your fault."

The movie looped.

It's all my fault.

The movie looped.

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

"Where did you see it?" Ziva asked, speaking for the first time. Her voice was also soft. She ignored Gibbs' signal to stay quiet. "Where did you see yourself kill us?"

Tim stared at her, the gun swinging from Gibbs' face to her heart. He didn't seem to understand. His eyes showed a glimmer of confusion rather than insanity.

"You saw it, Tim. You saw it. You didn't do it. You saw it out in front of you, yes? In front."

"In front," Tim whispered, although it was questionable as to whether or not he was agreeing. He sagged against the wall for a moment, looking as though he was going to fall. Tony took an involuntary step toward him and the gun swung from Ziva to him. Tim pushed himself up again.

"Yes, in front. On a screen? It was a movie?"

Tim stared at Ziva once more, gun swinging back to her, breathing shallowly, obviously in a lot of pain.

"Were you holding a gun, Tim?" Gibbs asked. "Or did you see yourself holding a gun?"

Tim's eyes...and the gun...swung back to Gibbs. His mouth was moving but he made no sound.

"Come on, Probie," Tony said and tried not to react as the gun swung to him. It was just wrong for Tim to be threatening him with a gun. "You're a freaking genius! Think!"

"It has to stop," Tim whispered. "It has to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop..." His voice began to raise in volume again.

"It won't stop if you shoot us," Gibbs said, taking control again...and attracting the gun to him once more. "Tim, it won't stop. That will not stop it. All the times you saw us die, we were alive again. Leave us alive. That will stop it."

"Stop...stop...stop...stop..." Tim looked at Gibbs. He looked at Tony, at Ziva.

"You don't want us to die, do you, Probie?"

The gun swung back to Tony. "You... You're...dead...now."

"No, I'm not. I wasn't dead yesterday or last week or any other time. I've been alive my whole life." At any other time, that statement would have been ridiculous, but now...it was filled with desperation to get Tim to see reality, to reconnect with the world around him.

"I killed you," Tim said, but he seemed more uncertain.

"No, you didn't," Tony said. "No, McGee. You never killed me. Not once in all the years we've known each other."

"I shot you. In the neck. Again and again."

"No."

Tim pointed the gun at Ziva. "I shot you in the heart."

"No, Tim. Not ever. You would not do that."

"I saw it."

"But you did not do it."

Tim pointed the gun at Gibbs. "I couldn't even see your face from the blood."

"You didn't shoot me, Tim. You didn't shoot any of us."

The gun was shaking. No one dared move. The gun began to turn.

It's all my fault...

It's all my fault...

It's all my fault...

It's all my fault...

It's all my fault...

It's all my fault...

It's all my fault...

"No! Tim! No!"