Note: A smidge of McAbby in this chapter.


Chapter Eight

Twenty minutes later found Gibbs and Tim back in the break room, where sleeping arrangements were being discussed.

"Take the couch, Tim."

"But...But I can't, boss."

"Why the hell not?" Gibbs couldn't understand why Tim would decline the offer to sleep in the better spot of the two options they had.

"Boss, it'd be impolite. And Momma and Angie always taught me to respect my elders. Which means you're supposed to take the couch."

Gibbs glared at his youngest agent, blue eyes bright with exasperation as he raised an eyebrow. Tim shifted nervously, and Gibbs couldn't help but chuckle on the inside.

"McGee, since when have I ever cared about being polite? I'm not ancient. I can handle sleeping in an armchair for a few hours."

"But—"

Gibbs firmly shook his head. "No Tim. You need the rest. You're barely standing as it is."

And it was true, as Tim had to keep shaking his head slightly to keep from having dizzy spells due to his lack of sleep.

"I mean it, Tim. Take the couch."

Gibbs hid a triumphant smile as Tim gave a resigned sigh and nodded. "Okay."

As the two men got settled, Gibbs remembered something that had caught his attention earlier. "You call her both 'mom' and 'Angie'."

Tim looked up at Gibbs from setting up his pillow and blanket, slightly confused before his face cleared again and he smiled softly. "Oh. Yeah. I call her both, 'cause…well, she's my mom and she's probably one of my best friends in the world. So…when she's being my mom, she's 'Mom'. And when she's being silly with me, she's 'Angie'. I guess I was never able to just call her one thing. But I love her and Dad a lot. And I'm really happy they brought me home that day."

Gibbs nodded, and they went back to settling themselves down in comfortable silence. Soon Tim was laid out on the couch, shoes kicked off and blanket draped over him, while Gibbs had opted for stretching his legs out on the coffee table, leaning back into the cushy armchair in comfort.

"Boss, are you sure you don't want the couch?"

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. "No, I'm fine Tim."

Tim nodded and settled into his pillow, but Gibbs could see his eyes were still open and studying the tiles in the ceiling in spite of their heaviness. Leaning back into the armchair a little more, Gibbs asked another question that had been bugging him. "What happened to David, Tim?"

Green eyes glanced in his direction momentarily before going back to staring at the ceiling. "Shortly after I was adopted, the state shut down the orphanage. Someone tipped them off to…to what David had done to some of the kids, and the kids who were at the orphanage were shifted to somewhere else. Last I checked, David is still rotting in a prison somewhere."

Tim grew quiet again, and Gibbs watched as the younger man continued to stare at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes.

"Did you ever tell anyone else about what happened? Besides your therapist and your parents?"

Gibbs waited for an answer, and got one momentarily. "You're the first person I've told outside of my family, outside my therapist, and outside of the journal I kept for that assignment in high school." Tim looked at him again. "I...I regret not saying anything to Abby, though. She never said anything, but I knew she was disappointed whenever I...you know, avoided certain activities. I finally told her that it wasn't her fault, but that it was because…something bad had happened to me when I was a kid. She believed me, and we did eventually…you know… But in the end, we ended up not working out…because I screwed it up by asking for a commitment." Gibbs heard him swallow quietly. "I still love her though. Even now. It's…it's hard not to."

Gibbs could see the warmth in Tim's green eyes as he spoke of their favorite forensic scientist, and knew he was being honest. And as much as Gibbs hated to admit it, he was pretty sure the kid and his little lab rat were meant for each other. She was just being Abby, who figured these things out in her own way.

"Boss? You won't tell anyone about…any of this…will you?"

Gibbs looked at his youngest agent and saw the pleading in his eyes, and gave him a reassuring smile. "Rule Number Four, Tim. I have no intention of telling anyone else. But I don't think you should hide it from the others either. Tony, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, even Palmer—they're your friends and well-wishers, as much as I am. I'm not going to force you to tell them, though. That's for you to decide. When you're ready."

It was heartening to see the tinge of fear in Tim's eyes again. "I don't think I can actually…tell them, by word of mouth. I…I did it this time, boss, but…"

Gibbs shook his head. "Hey, you told me. You telling me you're more afraid of Tony and Ziva than you are of me? And Abby? She's harmless. And what about Ducky? And Palmer? Are you saying they're all scarier than I am?"

Gibbs felt relief flood him when he saw the fear leave Tim's eyes again to be replaced by a sheepish blush as he continued to speak. "Tim, I'm not telling you to tell them later today, or tomorrow. I'm not even saying that you should tell them all at once. I'm just saying you should tell them. I know you care about them, and they care about you. You don't hide secrets from family. It's not like we're the mob…or the CIA or FBI or Mossad. We're your team. We'll be here when you're ready to talk."

He could see Tim's eyes beginning to close as the younger man nodded his acceptance. "It's late. Get some sleep, Tim."

But Tim was so exhausted that he was already asleep before Gibbs even finished talking. Gibbs smiled and settled back in his chair, trying to catch a few winks himself, as he fondly noticed the resemblance Timothy McGee held to a little boy when he slept. His Momma had nicknamed him perfectly.


000


Gibbs woke to the sound of the break room door creaking open, and the sound of quiet, sneaking footsteps.

"Put your cell phone away, DiNozzo," Gibbs quietly barked at his senior field agent, not wanting to wake Tim. The few hours since they'd fallen asleep were nearly uneventful; Tim hadn't woken up screaming, but had stirred quite a bit and had called out several times in his sleep. Gibbs, remembering the nights when Kelly had bad dreams, had simply placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder and spoken softly, assuring him that he was safe. Tim had finally settled into a deep, peaceful sleep not more than an hour and a half ago.

Tony looked at his boss sheepishly as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, pulling out the Post-It he'd found stuck to his computer with the simple words "Break Room" scrawled in Gibbs' handwriting instead.

"Got your note," he said dryly to his boss, also keeping his voice low. "What happened? Probie looks like he went to hell and back." He was clearly avoiding telling the older man that he looked the same.

Gibbs shook his head. "Long night. And he basically did," he muttered quiety before moving towards the percolator on the counter, next to which he'd hidden his personal stash of coffee grind. Setting the machine to work, he turned back and focused his gaze on the man who held the role of "eldest son" in his surrogate family. Gibbs hid a smile at the look of concern that crossed Tony's face as he looked at Tim.

"Why? What happened?" Tony asked, voice tinged with alarm, wanting to figure out what was wrong with his "kid brother".

Gibbs shook his head. "It's not my place to say, Tony."

"But boss—"

Gibbs shook his head at Tony again, who in turn stopped asking. "He'll tell you when he's ready. All I can say, and will say, is that he's a helluva lot braver than we give him credit for."

Tony was quiet as Gibbs finally poured himself a mug of hot coffee, the expression on his face a mix of resignation and concern.

"Must be really bad, boss. You're being nice."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow as he came to stand near Tony.

Thwack.

"Of course, you're always nice, boss. Never doubted that for a second."

Gibbs shook his head as he headed to the door. "Stay with him. Make sure he stays asleep, and that no one disturbs this room. He needs the rest." The look he shot Tony killed any protest or wisecrack the other man might have been about to make. "And don't even think about taking pictures."

"Where are you going, boss?"

Gibbs exited the room. "To work, DiNozzo."

When Gibbs got to the bullpen after hitting the showers and putting on a fresh shirt, he found Ducky talking to Ziva. Keen blue eyes noticed the folder the other man held in his hands.

"Ducky, what are you doing up here?"

The Scottish man looked in his direction, his usual smile on his face. "Ah, good morning, Jethro! Are you all right? You look quite tired."

"I'm fine, Duck. What's up?"

"I was actually looking for our Timothy. Have you seen him? I assume he's here already, but no one seems to have noticed him come in," the elder man asked, nodding to the backpack resting by Tim's desk.

"He had a rough night and is resting in the break room. Tony's with him to make sure he isn't disturbed," Gibbs explained.

Ducky looked taken aback. "Oh dear. Is he all right?"

Ziva shot Gibbs a look, trying to mask her worry with a barb at her other teammate. "And is it wise to have Tony be the one to keep him from being disturbed?"

Gibbs tossed Ziva a smirk. "Don't worry, Ziva. I've already warned Tony not to bother him. And yeah, Ducky, he's fine. Just…really tired. Why'd you need to see him, anyway?"

Ducky gave him a knowing look, indicating he'd noticed Gibbs' pause, but didn't mention it. "Ah, Timothy had asked me sometime ago to help him find out where this poor woman's final resting place was."

Ducky handed Gibbs the folder, who opened it to see the death certificate for Anna Harris, and the name of the cemetery where she was buried. It was located in Philadelphia. "He said that the ME who did her autopsy was retired, and that he couldn't get in contact with the man, and so thought maybe I could help. Odd that he had her date of death, and just as odd that he knew she would be somewhere in Philadelphia. When I saw her autopsy report, I couldn't help but feel for the poor soul. Fatal GSW to the chest." Ducky shook his head sadly. "The lad wouldn't say just who she was to him, but I got the feeling that she was someone very special."

Gibbs glanced up at his long-time friend, and caught both the ME and Ziva looking at him curiously. "Yeah, she was. He'll tell you guys who she is…eventually."

He moved toward his chair, placing the folder aside and putting a Post-It note on it so that he wouldn't forget where it was supposed to go. Gibbs then glanced up at his older friend and then the Israeli woman, who shrugged and turned to go back to her own desk. "Thanks Duck. I'll make sure he gets this. I know he'll really appreciate it."