Chapter 7

They saw little, if any improvement over the next couple of days. Tim's insistence on his current state of non-existence remained constant. What did change was a dramatic increase in how dizzy he felt. He could barely keep his eyes open. One of the areas of his brain that had been damaged was that relating to balance. Healing was slow but it was coming along. One of the possible side effects of olanzapine, however, was dizziness...and it seemed that Tim's injury made him more susceptible. He was also extremely drowsy as his body adjusted to the presence of the drug in his system.

All in all...Sam and Naomi began to wonder if they'd made a mistake.

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

Three days later...

Tim opened his eyes...and then instantly closed them. He felt so dizzy. It was as if the room was spinning around him. He let out a couple of shaky breaths...and tried again.

"Tim? Are you awake?"

"Dizzy..." he said. He couldn't get the room to stop spinning long enough to see who was talking to him. The brief glimpses he got revealed a distorted world.

"Any other discomforts?"

The voice wasn't familiar to him...but he thought he'd heard it before. ...and why was it that he felt so sure that he was dead?

"Cold...really cold. Am I dead?"

"No."

"Mom?"

"Yes, Tim. I'm here."

"Am I dead?"

"No, you're not."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Why do I think I am? Why do I feel like I am?"

He felt someone take his hand. He felt another hand on his forehead.

"Do you remember getting shot, Tim?"

"McGee! Stay down!"

"There's no cover for Ducky and Jimmy!"

"They have enough! Stay down until we can figure out where these guys are."

"Boss, look at them! They can't shoot back. They can't get back to the truck."

He got up and headed toward the crumbling wall...and turned around...and...

He jerked backward, breathing heavily at the intensity of the flashback.

"I...got...shot...and I'm not dead?"

"No. It's a miracle, but you survived."

"But it feels like I'm dead...nothing looks right. ...disobeyed orders..."

He was starting to feel agitated and confused. There was a feeling that he'd died, but he was being told by people he trusted that he was still alive. ...but when he opened his eyes, things looked strange, and he was so dizzy...and...

"Tim?"

The voice made him try to open his eyes. He shouldn't be lying around in front of his boss! The room spun as he tried to push himself up. He closed his eyes again and didn't fight the hands that pushed him back down to the bed.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes...Boss..."

"Good. You aren't in trouble."

"I'm...not?"

"No. You're not. Can you try to remember that? What you're going through right now isn't some sort of twisted punishment."

Tim didn't remember thinking that, but it made sense to him that it would be right...but apparently, it wasn't. Weird.

"Do you hear me, Tim?"

"Yes...I...I guess."

"Do you believe me?"

"I...don't know."

A hand on his forehead. It helped him feel more secure. The world wasn't going to tilt and throw him off it. It calmed him in spite of his continuing confusion and worry. If he thought hard, he remembered a lot of time behind him in which he was dead, but maybe that wasn't quite right? The memories were definitely unclear.

The hand vanished and Tim's dizziness increased. He grabbed for the bed, trying to stabilize himself again. His breathing became shallow.

There was a hand on his arm which, again, linked him to the rest of the world. He wasn't floating in a strange limbo...separated from the living.

"Keep...disappearing..." he whispered.

"What does, Tim?" That was his mother. He recognized her voice.

"The world."

"Does it help when someone touches you?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Dr. Khalid is here and he wants to explain some things to you."

"Okay."

That familiar/unfamiliar voice came again. "Tim, are you listening?"

"Yes. I...think so..."

"Good. A couple of months ago, you were shot. You remember that, I know. Since then, you've been recovering and you've been having some problems. One of the problems is that the bullet did some damage in the part of your brain that processes vision. It's starting to heal, but that's throwing off your perceptions. Do you understand?"

It was kind of hard to focus on what Dr. Khalid was saying, but it was kind of clear.

"I think...maybe..."

"Okay. Besides the initial damage, we have you on some medication that is exacerbating the dizziness you felt before, making it worse. Your balance is off and that's not helping. ...but you're improving by the day. I'm extremely optimistic that your body will adjust to the medication and the dizziness will fade to manageable levels."

"Why...the...medication?"

"How do you feel about yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know that you're alive?"

"No."

"But are you certain that you're dead?"

"No. I thought I was. I feel...like I'm...maybe...dead...and that's not right?"

"No, it's not. You're very much alive. ...and that's what the medication is for. It's helping you work through that feeling of being dead."

"...but why would...I..." Tim tried opening his eyes again and managed to keep them open for a few seconds to get a look at his doctor...before the spinning was too much for him again. "...I feel I'm dead...and be still alive?"

The hand on his arm tightened.

"It's called the Cotard delusion. It happens sometimes and it's impossible to predict when it will occur."

"...but...that...doesn't make any sense." Tim felt his ability to focus ebbing away. "...if I think I'm dead...I have to be dead. I wouldn't..." An ache started developing in his head. "Can't...think..."

"Are you tired, Tim?"

Dr. Khalid had a very soothing voice.

"Yes."

"Okay. Why don't you just try to sleep. We can talk more later."

"Okay."

Part of Tim was telling him that there was a lot going on that he should try and figure out, but dominating his brain right now was just the message of exhaustion and dizziness.

"Mom?"

A hand on his forehead.

"I'm here, Tim."

"I don't...understand. ...and I'm so tired."

"You can sleep. I'll stay right here and keep you anchored."

"Good."

He seemed to remember that there were problems with sleeping and then waking later, but he couldn't remember what they were exactly...and he had to give in to the need to sleep.

So he fell into the darkness.

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

Once they were certain Tim had fallen asleep again, Naomi and Sam looked at Dr. Khalid with concern. Gibbs said nothing, but he kept his hand on Tim's arm. The NCIS people had long since set up shifts in which they would show up so that they didn't overwhelm either Tim or his family with their...idiosyncratic ways of showing concern. Gibbs was here by himself right now, but Jimmy was going to be coming by soon.

"Dr. Khalid," Naomi began.

Dr. Khalid smiled. "There's been a major improvement."

"Has there? He still thinks he's dead. He can't even open his eyes because he's so dizzy...and he's still saying that things look wrong. How is that better?"

"Because he's not sure that he's dead. He thinks he must be, he feels like he is, but he isn't insisting that he's dead. It may seem like a minor thing to you, but psychologically, there's a big difference between knowing one is dead and feeling like one is dead. Big difference."

"I'll...take your word for it," Sam said. "...but I have to say that...I'm not feeling very encouraged."

"You should. I'm seeing that this medication is working. What I've found in the medical literature is that once the delusion is fully resolved, we can slowly wean Tim off olanzapine without too much risk of a relapse. This is how it's supposed to work."

"How long will it take for him to...get closer to normal?" Naomi asked.

"As long as it takes," Dr. Khalid said, "but I think that within a few days, we'll see that Tim will really be much more in command of himself. You may not see a complete recovery. In fact, you probably won't. Tim still has a long way to go, but the delusion, which has been the biggest issue, should be gone."

"And then?"

"Then, we can focus more on finding out how far he can go. ...but let's take this one step at a time. Probably, once we're sure that he won't be a danger to himself, you can start looking into rehabilitation centers for him. He'll need time and rehab."

They all nodded. It was not...wonderful, but it was better than they'd had up to this point.

The McGees went with Dr. Khalid to start compiling a list of rehab clinics, leaving Gibbs alone with Tim for a few minutes. He removed his hand from Tim's arm. Tim twitched slightly and took a deep shuddering breath. Gibbs put his hand back and Tim stilled.

He tried to see the improvement that Dr. Khalid could. He was willing to trust him, but it was hard to see this confused and clearly-unwell young man as being vastly improved. He supposed that he had to stop comparing Tim as he was now to how he'd been. He just had to accept that Tim was going to be long in recovering.

...just so long as he did eventually.

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

Jimmy was sitting by Tim. He'd sat there for a couple of hours, first with Gibbs...then, with Sam and Naomi. Now, he was alone. Sam and Naomi were taking a break from their near-constant vigil. Tim had been asleep almost the entire time. His waking had been very brief.

"Tim?" Jimmy said softly.

Tim stirred slightly, but he didn't wake up.

"Man, I'm sorry that this is still going on," he said, talking almost as much to himself as to Tim. "I can't stop thinking about that time on the roof. I was so afraid that you really were going to die...and that I'd see it. It keeps running through my head. I took Dr. Khalid's advice and I'm talking about it, but...I don't know if I'll ever forget...how close you've come... twice."

Jimmy sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on his hands.

"I told Dr. Mallard that I don't think I can look at death the same way as I used to. It's just...it's not only interesting anymore. It's really...personal. It's real...and I can't really think of how to explain it. It's just not the same as it was. ...well, death is the same. That hasn't changed. People still die, but..." Jimmy laughed a little. "I can't even think of an inappropriate joke right now."

"That's probably a good thing, Jimmy."

Jimmy sat up and turned around. Tony walked over to the bed and sat down beside him.

"Gibbs said that Tim is supposedly doing better."

"Yeah. I don't know. He's been mostly asleep. His parents still seem really worried about everything. They're going to be giving Tim his next dose soon."

"Yeah..."

Tim's eyes opened briefly and he looked at them...and then, he swallowed and his lids dropped.

"Hey, McGee," Tony said. "You awake?"

"I don't know."

Tony looked at Jimmy who just shrugged.

"If you're talking to me, I think you are, Probie."

"Am I dead?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"I don't...much like...being alive if that's...what this is."

"Hey, that's just you needing a bit more time to get into the flow of things, McGee," Tony said. "You'll be up and about in no time."

Tim shook his head for a moment but then stopped quickly.

"No...this is...wrong. All of it is so...off...I can't..."

"That's just the drugs right now," Jimmy said, not knowing for sure if that was true. "You'll adjust and things will be lots better."

However, it seemed like his attempt to encourage Tim was wasted. Tim was holding tightly to the mattress of the bed, as if he was afraid of falling off it.

"McGee?" Tony asked. "You all right?"

"World is...twisting...wrong...falling off it."

Tony reached out and squeezed Tim's shoulder.

"You're not falling."

"Not...now...safe on the...the bed."

Tim didn't speak again, and he seemed to fall asleep again.

"Dr. Khalid says he's better," Jimmy said.

"Yeah. Better."