Chapter 9

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. It sounded almost tentative which was strange. No one in the house would ever be tentative with the geek.

"Come in," he said, without sitting up.

"McGee?"

"What do you want, Ziva?" Tim asked.

"I wanted to see how you were feeling. You seemed very upset."

"I am. Congratulations."

There was a shifting of the bed as Ziva sat down beside him.

"I am sorry, McGee."

"What for? You have to do what Gibbs tells you to do and you didn't kill anyone...at least no one involved in this case."

"No, I am sorry for how I have been treating you. I have let this book become more important than you."

"It was never really about you, you know. Actually, in the beginning, I was going to change the names after I finished...but I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't think it would matter. For one thing, you guys solved the case in the book. You're the heroes. For another, you shouldn't have ever even known about it."

"You would never have told us?"

Tim forced himself to sit up without groaning. He looked at Ziva and raised an eyebrow.

"Considering the reaction I've had...I think I was making the right decision."

Ziva nodded.

"I am sorry," she said again. "Can you forgive me for that?"

"Yeah," Tim said. "As long as you don't expect me to apologize for what I wrote in the book, because I won't. I'll never apologize for Deep Six."

"Even though it seems to be the cause of this problem?"

Tim shook his head vehemently.

"If I had to suffer for it, that's fine. As long as it's just me, it doesn't matter. It hurt. I'll admit it, and I wish it hadn't happened, but I survived it, and if it weren't for Gibbs being paranoid, I could be home living my life. I've got what I want out of my book. If anyone else had to suffer for it, then, I'd apologize and try to do something about it...but not if it's just me."

"You are not worth it?"

Tim smiled. "No. That's not it. I feel like the sacrifice is worth it. If I don't mind paying this price," he said, gesturing at his bruised face, "then, no one else should be able to tell me otherwise. Right?"

"Unless we feel that you are mistaken in simply taking what was done."

"I don't think you're going to have any choice."

"You make them sound invincible."

"No," Tim said, forcing a laugh. "Just unarrestable. They've never been caught before, not even when there were witnesses."

"If they are the ones who did this to you," Ziva said, "we will find them. We will not let them attack our teammate and get away with it. You are not in school anymore. You are not a teenager."

"Not most days," Tim said with a smile.

Ziva surprised him by putting her hand on his cheek, gently brushing her fingers over the bruise.

"...and you are not in this alone. We were angry about what we read, but we would never leave you alone in this."

Tim covered her hand and hoped that the sudden tightening of his throat didn't show. He had told Louis and David that he had people watching his back now, even if he hadn't before. But at the same time, with the coldness of their treatment after finding out about Deep Six, he'd actually wondered if they did.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"You are welcome."

Ziva nodded and stood up. She left Tim in the room, and he lay back down. He still didn't want to deal with this, but he felt better.

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

Tibbs heard the shouting. He'd been trying to track down John because he kept getting into trouble. It was enough to drive anyone to drink, but Tibbs felt a strange affinity for the situation the troubled teen was in. He wanted to help him, but John was not making it easy. He'd been getting into fights. He'd been accusing the police of doing nothing.

In short, he was making himself singularly unsympathetic.

But this was different. It was not John's voice. In fact, it was an adult shouting, and the voice did sound somewhat familiar.

Tibbs was about to move on, to look for the wayward teen again when he heard a whimper. A whimper. ...from someone young. He sprinted into the room and saw a surprising sight.

John was being violently shaken by Sandra's father, the man who had asked him to look into his daughter's death.

"You didn't do anything to help her! Your hands are as bloody as the ones who killed her!"

"Mr. Owens!" Tibbs said.

Mr. Owens shoved John to the floor and spun on Tibbs.

"My daughter is dead!" he shouted. "He found her and left her there!"

"I couldn't get her down," John whimpered. "I tried."

Gone was the angry and upset accuser. Now, all that remained was a young man feeling a lot of pain.

Mr. Owens turned back to John and started toward him. Tibbs reacted instantly and grabbed hold of the grieving parent, ready for anything.

He got it.

Mr. Owens took a swing at Tibbs whose military training perfectly ready to avoid it. He caught Mr. Owens' hand, grabbed hold of his wrist and spun his arm behind the man's back. He pushed him against the wall.

"I'm sympathetic, Mr. Owens. Really I am, but you need to get a hold of yourself. What do you think you're doing?"

"He left her there!"

"Your daughter was up in a tree, Mr. Owens. It took us more than hour to get her down."

Tibbs held him against the wall for a few seconds, until the father relaxed enough that he could assume that he wouldn't attack John again. He let him go. Mr. Owens straightened and looked at John.

"I had better not see you at her funeral. As far as I'm concerned, you're just as responsible."

He strode away.

Tibbs looked back at John. He was still on the floor.

"John?"

"I tried to get her down," John whispered. "I really did try."

"I'm sure you did."

"I tried to get her down."

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

Gibbs walked into Metro and got directed back to the detectives who were investigating the mugging. He hoped that there would be few problems with taking control of the case, given that they would have a lot on their plates, and this was just a mugging. Nothing exciting. There wouldn't be any real publicity about this.

"Agent Gibbs."

"Detective Warner?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes. What can I do for you?"

"You're in charge of the mugging of Timothy McGee?"

"Yes. There's not much to go on, but we'll do our best."

"I'd like to take over it."

"Why?"

"Timothy McGee is an NCIS agent. He's on my team and we'd like to investigate what happened."

Suddenly, Detective Warner's expression changed, just a little.

"Agent?"

"Yes."

"He didn't mention that."

"I know." Gibbs wasn't sure what the change was for at first, but Warner revealed the reason.

"He's the agent who killed Detective Benedict last year."

"Maybe. There's nothing to show which bullet killed him."

Warner's eyebrow went up.

"That's your justification?"

"No," Gibbs said, wishing that he didn't need to get into this now. There were so many other things to deal with. "And it's not how Agent McGee feels, either. He still feels guilty about it."

"That why he didn't identify himself?"

"No."

"Then, why?"

"Because he thinks he knows who did it and he didn't want to tell anyone."

Warner's brow furrowed.

"Why keep information from the police? He should know better than that, shouldn't he?"

"Yeah, he should. They're his childhood bullies, and he thinks he knows what they're going to do. He'd rather just take this and assume that they won't try again."

"Bullies?"

"Yeah."

Warner didn't give anything away about how he might be thinking of Tim.

"It's a big step from teasing in high school to almost killing an adult."

"Yeah."

Warner nodded.

"Okay. Well, I won't fight you for it. Not much point. I've got enough to do. I'll get what little we've got sent over."

"Thanks."

Gibbs shook Warner's hand and started to leave.

"Agent Gibbs."

He turned back.

"Yeah?"

"If that was a personal attack, then, Agent McGee isn't safe. I saw the injuries, and there was a real intent to kill. These people wanted him dead, and if it wasn't just because they were trying to rob him, then, I'd be surprised if they didn't try again."

Gibbs nodded.

"Thanks."

"Good luck."

Warner sat down at his desk and resumed working. Gibbs left the police station and headed back to NCIS with more than information. He'd taken the warning seriously and it squared with his own worry.

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

"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Down with Abby," Tony said, smiling a little. "She's simultaneously fretting over him and lecturing him for not telling her that he got hurt. You know how she gets. He was sitting in the office when I left him down there."

Gibbs nodded and gestured for them to get started.

"Okay, here's what we've found," Tony said. "Louis Dietrich. He's a trader on Wall Street. Married to Jillian Miller, his high school sweetheart. Lives in Manhattan. No children. Apparently, he's very successful, based on the neighborhood where he lives. Swanky with a capital S."

"History?" Gibbs asked.

"Comes from money. Only child. His parents divorced when he was young and his father died ten years ago. He was the sole heir. Mom didn't get a penny. Apparently likes to live large. He has more than his share of speeding tickets, but still has his license."

Gibbs looked at Ziva.

"David Larson," Ziva said. "An exotic auto mechanic."

"Exotic?" Gibbs asked.

"Luxury cars. The ones that, if you screw up, you can't afford to replace because they cost so much," Tony said. "Takes special training from what I understand."

"Pay well?"

"Better than repairing a Honda, but I doubt he's driving a Ferrari."

"He lives in Alexandria. He is not married. He has no red flags," Ziva said. "Pays his taxes, pays his bills. Not even an unpaid parking ticket."

Tony looked around, as if to make sure Tim wasn't there.

"If it weren't for McGee saying it..."

"They would not look like the kind of men you would suspect of committing any crime beyond speeding, perhaps."

"And that's only Dietrich. Not Larson."

"Go check on Larson, see what you can find."

Tony and Ziva both nodded and left. After they were gone, Gibbs sat down and opened the file from Metro. There wasn't much there. The man who had witnessed the attack hadn't actually seen anyone. He'd been chasing after his dog. He could verify that Tim had said there were two men, but his attention had been on Tim because of the blood. He hadn't seen anything other than a man lying on the ground, clearly injured.

Tim had stated that he didn't see the men who had attacked him. His injuries were serious but not life-threatening. No fingerprints. No DNA. No blood that hadn't been Tim's. He had been taken completely by surprise and had been unable to do any damage. Two on one. It sounded like the work of bullies. Why risk an even fight when you could stack the deck?

And Tim was just taking it like he had as a teenager. He was using different words to explain his reasons, but it was the same situation. Take it and hope it's the last time because you just didn't want the fight. The bullies had beaten him down again. While he wasn't yet sure about the murder charge Tim was lofting at them, Gibbs believed him when he said that it was his old bullies who had assaulted him. ...and with the assault, it gave more credence to the murder accusation.

...and if Detective Warner was right, Tim wasn't safe, no matter how much he wanted to believe that it was over.

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

"I've told you a hundred times, Louis, when he drives anywhere, it'll make the news. I'm not going to drive by his place over and over just to make sure people notice that there's someone watching him."

"What if they find it?"

"How will they? It's not like you cut the brake lines...at least you better not have cut the brake lines," David said. "That wasn't part of the plan."

"I didn't cut the brake lines. I did exactly what you told me to do."

"Then, stop worrying. He got hurt. He's not going to be driving right away. Once he drives, the results will definitely make the news."

"They'd better."

David hung up, rolling his eyes. He couldn't wait for this to be over. He was so sick of Louis and his demanding ego. The sooner Tim tried to drive his car, the better.