Chapter Seven
Gibbs and Tim sat comfortably under the window, each sipping at yet another mug of hot coffee, enjoying the silence and thinking about the last few hours.
Once more Gibbs felt pride flood him as he thought back to the way Tim had bravely narrated his story, and was surprised that the kid hadn't passed out from mental exhaustion yet. He didn't even have to look at the younger man to know that he was drained of his energy, though the dried tear tracks down his cheeks and the circles under his bloodshot green eyes were a clear indication that the kid needed sleep.
Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs could see the far-off look in Tim's eyes again. There was a question in those eyes, and Gibbs knew that when he was ready, Tim would voice whatever concern was still on his mind.
Gibbs didn't have to wait long.
"Boss…what about Toby?"
The older man swallowed the coffee in his mouth before turning his attention to his youngest agent. "What about him?"
"Is…is there any way we can make sure that he…he doesn't end up like I did? He's already dealing with the fact that his mom's dead, and that his dad murdered her. Can't we…can't we do something for him? Maybe make sure he goes somewhere…better? Better than sitting in an orphanage or being bounced from foster family to foster family?"
Gibbs gave Tim a sympathetic smile. "Tim, you know that kind of thing is out of our hands."
The younger man gave a shuddering sigh. "I…I know, boss. But…I mean, we're federal agents! We…we're supposed to help kids like Toby, right? We're supposed to keep people safe! There…there has to be something we can do. Right?"
Gibbs studied Tim for a few moments in silence, seeing the pleading look in his green eyes. "You can't hold yourself accountable for what happened to Toby, Tim."
Green eyes locked with his, wide in surprise. Gibbs continued. "It's not your fault that Toby Kline was a witness to his mother's murder. It's not your fault that you couldn't protect him from the horror of something like that. You can't blame yourself for that, just like you can't blame yourself for your mother's murder, or for the fact that a scumbag took advantage of you as a child. That's not fair to you."
Gibbs watched for a moment as Tim processed what he'd just been told, before he went on. "You made a vow to protect people, to keep them from hurting the way you did, to keep them safe. That's a great thing, Tim. But you have to remember that you can't protect everyone from everything, no matter how much you want to. "
Gibbs could see that Tim was getting ready to protest, and pushed forward before he could interrupt.
"You're one man, Tim. It's not logically or physically possible for you to save everyone. Maybe in the world of fiction it is, but in real life...in real life, everyday, someone will suffer, will see something horrible, will be brutalized, will die. The only thing you can do is your best to make sure that the people who commit the injustices against other people are punished for what they did. And you're doing that, and you're doing a damn good job, too. Be proud of that, because I know I am."
Gibbs smiled at the slightly shocked look on Tim's face, and the blush on his cheeks. The younger man obviously hadn't expected to receive his boss's praise twice in one night, much less an hour or so.
"Maybe Tony was right. You are getting soft."
Thwack.
"Or not," Tim chuckled softly.
"That…doesn't bother you, Tim?" Gibbs asked, realizing belatedly what affect his rather aggressive form of disciplining his team could be having on the kid. "And the things Tony says and does?"
"It…it did, at first," Tim confessed softly, and Gibbs' mind flashed to a stammering and very green Timothy McGee constantly ready to apologize for a mistake or for making him angry. "But not now."
"Why?" Gibbs was curious. What had changed?
"Because…I understand why you do it," came his simple response.
Gibbs raised an eyebrow in a "do-you-now?" expression, and Tim smiled at him. "You guys aren't trying to hurt me, boss. You're my team. I mean…yeah, Tony can be a pain with his wisecracks, and it really does get on my nerves when he's bugging me or quoting movies all the time, but…I wouldn't have it any other way. He's just being…well, Tony. It's the way he is, has always been. It's how he deals with what we see everyday. And you get angry because…well, I like to think it's because you care about us, and want us to learn, to work hard…to do our best, I guess. It's not like you single me out; Tony and Ziva, and even Kate when she was…still here—we've all been on the receiving end of a 'Gibbs-smack' more than once. I…I trust you guys, the way I trust my own family. I know you won't hurt me. That's why it doesn't bother me anymore."
Gibbs couldn't help but smile at that explanation, and nodded. Then remembering another question, Gibbs looked back at the younger man.
"Why isn't any of what you told me in your file?"
Tim swallowed. "It's…it's there, boss."
Gibbs raised an eyebrow again. "Not in your psyche profile, it's not. Mind telling me why all it says is that you were treated for trauma as a kid?"
Gibbs could see the rising blush in the kid's cheeks again, and took a guess. "You hid it, didn't you?" he asked, not needing to know how the computer expert in front of him had managed that.
Tim nodded, slowly. "I…yeah. I…I didn't want any of this working against me, or for whoever became my boss to think of me as...as 'the crazy one', or for anyone to judge me because of it. I…I mean…would you, boss?"
Gibbs paused for a moment, before nodding. "I never heard about this."
He caught the smile that Tim flashed him, and flashed one back as well before looking at the clock on the wall, Tim's eyes following as well.
The clock's hands read nearly 4:30 in the morning.
Gibbs felt Tim suddenly slump against the wall, and looked back to see the younger man rubbing his eyes with his left hand.
"Just realized how tired I am," he said aloud.
"You need sleep, Tim."
"…Yeah."
But Gibbs watched as Tim made no move to get up from the floor. "Something wrong?"
Bloodshot green eyes looked into his. "I'm...probably going to have nightmares again."
"Doesn't mean that you still don't need sleep."
Gibbs watched Tim nod in agreement before speaking again. "Yeah." A small, hopeful smile lit his exhausted face. "Maybe…maybe they won't be as bad this time."
Gibbs nodded, an encouraging smile on his face. "Maybe." He scanned the room, eyes settling on the couch and the armchair in the corner. "We may as well just crash out here. No sense in you driving all the way back to Silver Spring this late as tired as you are."
"'We'?"
"No sense in me driving home this late either," he stated matter-of-factly to the younger man. "If you get the blankets and pillows from the supply closet, I can go get our stuff from my car."
Tim seemed surprised. "You really don't have to stay with me, boss." Gibbs didn't like the tinge of shame in the kid's voice.
"Whose team are you on again?" Gibbs asked him, looking him straight in the eye.
Tim answered back automatically. "Yours, boss."
"Then you should know that I look out for my team, Tim. And you're right—the staff roster says you're on my team still. You're mentally and physically exhausted. I'm not letting you wake up alone and screaming from a nightmare after what you've just told me. Not tonight."
Tim paused for a moment, before smiling shyly. "Th-thanks, boss."
Gibbs only smiled and nodded before heading out of the break room to his car while Tim went to the nearby supply closet for some blankets and pillows.
