Chapter 9
Tim might have been sleeping, but Tony wasn't. He was investigating...but not the case at hand. He was convinced that Tim's strange reactions to the case were personal, but he didn't think that Tim had anything to do with the murder. He just couldn't figure out why it was that Tim was so insistent on...lying.
...and with Tim being obviously ill, driving to the beach, and passing out, Tony felt that it was incumbent upon him to figure out what Tim thought he couldn't share...why it was that he was so deeply affected by this case. Why would Tim be acting like this? It didn't make sense based on what Tony thought he knew about Tim.
So, unbeknownst to anyone in the building (he hoped), Tony had called in some favors at work (before he'd found Tim at the beach) and got his hands on Tim's personnel file. There was nothing surprising in it. Everything squared with what Tim had told them about his life over the years. It had made Tony question his concerns...until tonight at the beach. That had been enough to remove whatever scruples Tony had.
He had started doing searches for anything he could find about Tim. He had discovered that there were other Timothy McGees in the country. That made it a little more difficult, but he persevered. He stayed up late into the wee hours, correlating things he found with Tim's file.
It wasn't until about three in the morning that he discovered something amiss...and it was very amiss.
Tony found an online archive of old newspapers from the area Tim had said he grew up in. As he looked through them, he'd been drawn by a headline.
Son of high-ranking Naval officer in coma following car accident
Knowing that Tim had been in an accident, he started reading the article, but what he found was very different from what he'd expected. Only the names were the same. Instead of a broken leg, he discovered that Timothy McGee had nearly died and that his doctors didn't anticipate him coming out of the coma.
"But he did," Tony said. "Obviously, he did."
He went forward through the next few days. One small update, stating that Tim's condition had been unchanged, that his family still had hope. A picture accompanied the article. It showed a young man who looked a lot like Tim. ...but he was...
"Eighteen? No way. No, McGee was sixteen when he crashed his car."
He kept skimming through later issues, and then, six months after, there was an article...stating that Timothy McGee's parents had decided to take him off life support...and that he had died.
Timothy McGee had died...at age eighteen...from injuries sustained in a car accident. The funeral was listed, and there was a picture of the whole family...including Sarah.
Tony was shocked. There was no other way to describe what he felt. It was definitely shock. The names of Tim's parents were the names in Tim's file. Sarah...he'd met her. The picture of Timothy McGee looked similar, although not exactly right.
He printed off the relevant articles, but he didn't go over to Tim's apartment right then...although he wanted to. Tim's illness and weakness had been unfeigned. Tony was pretty sure he should let Tim sleep.
...but he didn't feel at all sleepy. He was confused and worried about what he'd discovered. On a whim, he started a new search. This time, he looked for stories of people being seen swimming with seals.
He was stunned to discover that there had been a few around Boston...during the years Tim had supposedly been attending MIT. Not more than two or three, but then, there was one around Norfolk. There was the one a few weeks ago, and then, Tim had confessed to swimming in the ocean...and a seal had approached him on the beach.
Tony now wondered what had happened. Who was Tim really and why had he never told anyone about all this? Had he really gone to MIT? It was like a house of cards falling because one card had been removed. What really got him was that he had been able to find this stuff. It had taken some doing...and yes, it had been through unofficial channels, but how had it happened that the death of Timothy McGee hadn't ever come up?
Tony didn't sleep at all.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim woke up feeling...not a whole lot better actually, but he didn't think he'd throw up and he was fairly certain that, if he stayed home, he would be able to resist the urge to take his skin back.
"Is this what I want?" he asked himself.
The problem was that he couldn't decide. Could he really reject all that he had been, all that cried out for a return and embrace the life he'd built on land? Could he give up the sea? Could he fight that neverending call?
Jethro jumped on the bed and licked at his face. Tim smiled wanly and hugged the dog.
"I don't know what to do, Jethro. I just don't know. I know what I feel...but is that what I really want or is it just an instinct? ...and even if it just an instinct, can I really fight it? I was fine...mostly...when I didn't know where it was, but knowing... I don't know what to do...and there's no one to tell, no one who can help me decide. My family doesn't believe. The selkies think the decision is obvious. None of my friends know...and if they did, they'd just think I was crazy."
Jethro whined at him and Tim swallowed the tightness in his throat. He got up and put on some clothes so he could take Jethro out...and then, maybe he'd try to sleep some more.
Jethro seemed to know that he wasn't feeling his best and didn't linger outside. He did his business, ran around the park a couple of times and then indicated he was ready to return home. Tim was more than happy to oblige.
...but when he got back, Tony was sitting on the steps leading to his building. He looked like he hadn't slept much, and he seemed worried.
"Tony, what's going on?" Tim asked.
"I could ask you that," Tony said...and handed Tim a piece of paper.
Tim knew, as soon as he saw the headline, what Tony meant. He looked at Tony for a moment. What was there to say? He silently handed the paper back and headed inside.
"That's it? You're not even going to say anything?" Tony asked in amazement.
Tim kept walking, knowing Tony would follow him. Once he got into his apartment, he fed Jethro and then sat down on a stool.
"What do you expect me to say, Tony? Do you think I've never seen that headline before? I have."
"I spent hours trying to think of a logical explanation for this, McGee...if that's your name."
"I don't have another one," Tim said. "Timothy McGee is the only name I've ever had."
"You lied!" Tony said.
"About what?" Tim asked. "What did I lie about?"
"Your car accident."
"True. I did. I was never in an accident. Anything else you need to know?"
"Dang it, McGee! What are you hiding? Why? ...and what..."
Tim found that he could actually smile at Tony's inability to express what he was feeling.
"What did you come here for, Tony?"
"Do you know what would happen if someone at NCIS found out about this?"
"Did you come here to threaten me?" Tim asked. "Did you think that if you threatened to tell about this...what little you know...that I'd explain myself? Please, Tony...do it. Threaten me. Threaten to take away a large part of what makes this life worth fighting for. You'll make a decision I can't make much easier...because if I lose what I have here...it's not worth fighting."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll never know, Tony. Never. No one will. I can't tell you, and in reality, you probably don't really want to know. You want this to go away. You don't want to know what it is. You just want it to not exist."
"You're the person who's been swimming with the seals."
"Why do you say that?" Tim asked, arching an eyebrow.
Tony pulled out another piece of paper and held it out. Tim looked at it and shook his head in disbelief.
"You searched for all this? Don't you have anything better to do with your time than pry into my life?"
"You told me to figure it out for myself."
"But you can't, can you," Tim retorted. "You've found stuff that doesn't make sense, but you're expecting me to clarify it for you. Sorry, but I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because...you're not in a position where you could possibly believe it or accept it. You're only human, Tony."
"And you're not?"
"Did I say that?" Tim asked.
The two men stared at each other in silence for a few seconds...and then, Tim could tell that he'd won...at least for the moment.
"I'm still not feeling very well, Tony. I've already reported it and am taking an unpaid day of leave. Would you let Gibbs know?"
"Why are you pushing us away, McGee?" Tony asked. "What did we do to deserve that?"
Tim felt his throat tighten, almost painfully...but he still forced a smile.
"You didn't do anything. I'm doing this because...there's no other option. I know you don't believe that, but it's the truth. Just know this, Tony: If you show that stuff you found to people in authority at NCIS and I lose my job, I'm gone. If that's what you want, by all means, go ahead. I wouldn't want to stay where I'm not wanted. ...but I can't deal with this life without what I have."
"You saying you're going to kill yourself?"
Tim laughed. "No. That would be easier. If I were going to do that, I would have done it years ago. I'm not ready to die...not anymore."
Tim got up, felt a headache form right in the center of his head. He knelt beside Jethro. Actually, Jethro reminded him a lot of the seals. Smart enough and pleasant to be around. Loyal.
"Let me know what you decide to do, Tony. I'd like to know what plans I have to make."
"McGee..."
"Tony, I don't blame you for being upset. I don't blame you for being angry. I don't blame you for being confused. ...but I can't help you."
Tony stayed silent for a long time. Tim waited for him to leave, but he didn't.
"Is there anything else, Tony? Because I'm going back to bed. I have a headache, and I'm not feeling very well."
Another silence.
"If you can't help us...then, is there anything we can help you with?"
Tim turned around in surprise...and then turned back toward the wall before the tears that formed in his eyes could be seen.
"No, Tony. I wish there was, but there's nothing you can do."
"Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"No. I don't have a fatal disease. I'm not under duress. It's nothing you can understand."
"You seem very sure."
"I am."
"Okay. I'll tell Gibbs you're not coming in today."
"Thanks."
"Bye, McGee."
"Tony?" Tim asked.
"I won't say anything."
"Thanks."
The door closed and Tim sighed. Tony hadn't really made anything easier. If only he could have been angry enough to carry through on his unspoken threat. Then, Tim would have had no choice but to give in to his instinct. No need to try and make a decision. It would have been made for him.
As it was, Tim was in no better situation than he had been before.
...unless...
The germ of an idea began to form in his head. If it didn't work, it would leave him no options. If it did work...maybe he had a chance.
Maybe.
He took a deep breath and walked into his bedroom. He needed more sleep. If he was going to try this, he needed to be at the top of his game.
