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Goldfishmind


Chapter 9

Gibbs looked up when he heard the ding of the elevator.

"Hey McGee, how did it go?"

"He knows a lot."

"And?"

"And nothing."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. McGee was never grumpy. Could a quick conversation with his father make him so grumpy?

McGee sat at his desk and tried to work, he couldn't concentrate on finding the lieutenant's son. He should be somewhere in Australia, but McGee couldn't find him. Too many memories were flying around his mind; memories he tried to forget.

—Flashback—

His father tried to stop drinking alcohol. He drank less than he did years ago, when Tim was just a little boy of twelve years old. But his father still had his moments, when he was sad he drank more and tried to hide it by starting conversations instead of drinking more.

"Hey Tim."

"Yeah dad?"

"You're almost sixteen now and you are almost finished high school, You found another school?"

"Uhm, yes I have."

"Actually I don't want you to study more. I want you to join the Navy or another branch of the military

"Why that?"

"You know there are more bullies at on these schools, I want you to grow some balls, not be some weird geek."

Tim didn't say anything.

"But maybe a technical school, you know, building machines for the military or design them."

"I thought about Johns Hopkins, biomedical engineering."

"And what do you want after that?"

"MIT and do something with computers."

"Tim, you're already a computer geek, don't say you are going to STUDY geek things."

"Well, I like it and maybe,-"

"Tim, just do what your father says, the Navy or other military is better for you. Look at your family, me, your grandfather, his father."

"Yeah, and also get drunk.." Tim mumbled.

"Timothy! What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Good. Just think about it. About the Navy or military."

"Yes dad."

A day or so later.

"And what do you want now?"

"Still the same."

"I also thought about it. I WANT you to join the Navy or military. Not a stupid weird thing."

"But I don't want to-"

"I got a better plan Tim, you join the Navy, I'll pay. If you don't you have to pay everything yourself."

"What? That is impossible!"

"Then the choice is made for you."

Some days later, the 13th of September.

Today was his birthday. He was sixteen. YES. Finally sixteen.

His parents had given him a beautiful present. A car. And not a normal one, a 1984 Camaro Z28 5-speed. Hell yeah.

Tim knew why he got this expensive present. His father tried to convince him to join that Navy. He did not want to, but he wanted this present!

He got into the car. Started it and drove away. He already learned driving by his father. And now it wasn't so difficult.

O jeez, it started to rain! He should go home; he drove enough today, already two hours. The rain got worse.

He was focused on the road, but it was difficult with all those raindrops on the window. So he tried to find the wipers. Hmm, he could not find them. O, forgotten! The road! Tim looked up and saw the bus right in front of him. He tried to stop or turn the wheel, but he was too late. The blast of the accident made him fell into the familiar darkness.

"I told you, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to give him that car without getting his driver's licence."

"I taught him how to drive, and he was good! How did this happen?"

"Did you ever drive with him while it was raining?"

"No, but that isn't more difficult."

The familiar voices of his parents.

He had an enormous headache. And his ribs hurt. He opened his eyes.

"Tim! O thank God, you're awake, I was so worried about you!" His mom yelled when she hugged him tightly.

"Hey Tim, how are you?" His father asked.

"I'm fine." He lied.

"Okay, the doctor will check you and you can go home with us."

The doctor entered the room and sent his parents out.

"Hello Timothy, how are you feeling?"

"Headache and my ribs hurt."

"That was to be expected. You have a slight concussion and some bruised ribs but except that, you're fine."

He shone with a flashlight in Tim's' eyes.

"Just take some rest the next week and you should be fine."

—End Flashback—

Tim was still at his desk. Staring at his computer screen, his hand under his chin/cheek. He was not aware of the entire team looking at him.

He was just so darn tired. The caffeine did not work anymore. His eyelids closed. He wanted to open them again, but they didn't work.

"Boss.." Tony whispered.

"What Tony?"

"Is he OK?"

"I think so. He is asleep." Gibbs said. "Which is good. I guess he needs it."