What Lies Beneath
Once again, my muse is being contrary. This is the penultimate chapter.
Special thanks to hazelmom for her advice on some aspects of this chapter..
Chapter 8 - Reunions
It felt like he was crawling through an endless, pitch-black tunnel. He couldn't see anything ahead of him but somehow he knew that he shouldn't look back: what lay behind was much, much worse. His movements were sluggish, as if the floor of the tunnel had been coated in mud and he was trying to drag his way through the mire towards his destination. In the shrinking, still sane section of his mind, he knew that this was just another illusion, another distraction the demon was giving him as part of its own fiendish amusement, but it felt so real…
He struggled to continue as the gelatinous mass beneath him seemed to grow even thicker, slowing his progress and taxing what little strength he had. Through the inky blackness he could hear the echo of voices that stirred his memory but he couldn't quite hone in on the identity of the speakers. Infrequently the darkness around him was pierced by bright flashes of light, and he drew away from them, fearful of what waited beyond that brightness, yet tangentially aware that he should be welcoming, not fearing the light.
As time passed he also became aware faint sensations of pain. The feelings grew more acute as the brief flashes of light increased in frequency and duration, nearly convincing him that he should turn around and go back the way he had come, but something told him to press on.
Finally he reached the end of his endurance, unable to drag himself even an inch further. He collapsed into the sludge beneath him, rolling over on his back as he did so in an attempt to keep himself from drowning in muck. It was surprisingly soft, and he was able to relax a little, allowing his arms to fall to his sides. He lay in the blackness, wishing that all of this could end, that he would finally be released from his torment. He closed his eyes and awaited the next assault on his senses, courtesy of the entity that had taken control of his body so long ago.
He opened his eyes and blinked at the sudden brightness, cringing as he waited for the newest vision that would attack his fading sanity. The area above him swam into focus and he felt the stirrings of confusion when he failed to recognize his surroundings.
Where am I?
A familiar face soon entered his field of vision, clear blue eyes peering down at him through wire-rimmed spectacles. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut, knowing what would undoubtedly follow this person's appearance in his own private version of Hell.
Please...not again…
He tensed, waiting to feel the scalpel blade sink into his chest, praying for a bit of mercy and that it would be over quickly this time.
"Timothy?"
He froze, unsure of what was happening: he'd never been directly addressed in this scenario before. He felt something warm wrap around his hand and flinched.
"Timothy, can you hear me?"
Ducky...What… why are you…?
"Open your eyes. Please, if you can hear me, open your eyes."
His eyes snapped open and he stared into the smiling face of the man he had only associated with pain during the course of his imprisonment.
Why are you doing this to me?
"It's all right, lad. You're safe."
No, it's another trick...Oh, God… Get away from me...please…
He felt his arm lifted and soon he could see his own hand, grasped between Ducky's. He stared at it, unable to allow himself to contemplate what this could mean.
"Squeeze my hand, Timothy. You can do it, I know you can. Please…"
He willed his body to respond, expecting his command to be as fruitless as it always was, but to his great shock his fingers contracted. He could only stare as the gesture was returned.
"That's it, Timothy." He met Ducky's gaze and the M.E. smiled, his eyes wet. "It's so good to see you." Ducky released his hand and he stared at it in wonder, carefully flexing his fingers. Suddenly he was gripped by panic as he waited for the illusion to break, for the mocking voice of the demon to bring reality crashing down on him once again. Ducky must have noticed his fear because he took a hold of Tim's hand again and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"It's all right, Timothy. You're in control again. The demon is gone." He brought his other hand up to cup Tim's cheek. "You're free."
Tim turned his gaze to his hand again, slowly twisting it back and forth in utter amazement, unaware of the tears which had started to flow down his face.
I'm free…
XXX
Tony stepped off the elevator and headed for the ICU. The team had taken shifts so Tim was never alone, but after over four days of watching his comatose partner, Tony had genuinely started to worry that Gibbs was wrong, and that Tim might never wake up.
As he he approached the Unit he saw Ducky and McGee's doctor standing outside the ward, speaking in low voices but obviously arguing. Tony felt his heart skip a beat in fear as he quickened his pace.
"What's going on?"
Ducky looked up at Tony and smiled despite his tense posture. "Timothy has regained consciousness, although he is not as responsive as we had hoped."
Tony's elation at hearing that Tim was awake was quickly dampened.
"What do you mean? What's wrong with him?"
Tim's doctor answered before Ducky could respond. "He is displaying a much lesser level of affect than I would have expected. He's numb, and from all signs still in shock. It could be a side effect of the coma, but it's more likely a result of whatever incident caused his problems in the first place, and he is unable to express what he's feeling. I understand you can't tell me what happened, but… Agent McGee needs to be able to talk about what happened to him."
"He can talk to us."
"Yes, but unfortunately you are not trained to deal with this sort of thing. I know of several professionals that I could recommend, and they would be willing to sign a nondisclosure agreement. He needs help."
"Can we at least try?"
The doctor sighed. "You can. I don't expect you to get very far."
"Won't know until we do try. Come on, Ducky." An odd look crossed the M.E.'s face. "What?"
"Perhaps it would be better for you to go in without me. Timothy was...rather upset by my presence."
"Upset?"
Ducky sighed. "Terrified."
"Why would he be afraid of you, Ducky?"
"I can't even begin to speculate. His reaction to the rest of the staff has not been as severe, and he has calmed down somewhat. Hopefully he will not have an adverse reaction to your presence."
"I guess we'll find out." Tony cautiously entered the ward and made his way over to Tim's bed. Tim's eyes were closed, but instead of the lax expression he wore while in the coma, his face showed definite signs of tension.
"Tim?"
McGee's eyes opened, fear reflected in his eyes before he seemed to recognize his visitor.
"T-tony?" His voice was weak, but the tone was flat, emotionless, and the reality behind it tore at Tony's heart.
"Hey," Tony began, and stopped. He wanted to tell McGee that everything was fine, or make some silly comment to lighten the mood, but when confronted with the haunted look in McGee's eyes he couldn't think of anything that would help. He cleared his throat, tried again, and what came out was not what he had really wanted his first statement to his friend to be.
"You look like crap." He winced as McGee just stared at him. Normally that statement would have earned him an annoyed look, perhaps even an eyeroll, and it finally hit him just how bad of a shape McGee had to be in. He cleared his throat to try again, but nothing came out. Finally McGee spoke, although his expression didn't change.
"Feel...like it...too."
Tony let out a small sigh of relief. At least it was better than nothing. "Yeah...I can imagine."
A flicker of...something crossed McGee's face.
"Hope...not." McGee's gaze strayed away from Tony, focusing on something behind him. Tony turned, but nothing was there. He turned back and saw that Tim now wore a look of horror, his breaths increasing as he stared at something only he could see.
Tony desperately wanted to grab Tim and shake him - or hug him - back to reality, but he also realized what he was seeing. He'd witnessed similar reactions in trauma victims, and he knew better than to touch someone going through an obvious flashback. Instead he stepped closer and leaned down into McGee's line of vision.
"Hey, Buddy, it's OK. It's not happening. You're safe now. Come on, Tim, snap out of it." His hand hovered over McGee's arm as he continued to try and talk Tim back from whatever nightmare had gripped him. Finally Tim gasped and blinked, the tension in his body easing slightly. He looked up at Tony with an expression the older man had never wanted to see on his friend's face.
"Sorry…"
"Hey, man, it's not your fault."
"You know...what happened? To me?"
"Some of it. I know why you haven't exactly been yourself lately." Tim just stared at him with that same dead expression. "Sorry."
"How long?"
"Have I known? Only about five days. Same length of time since…" He checked to make sure none of the staff were within earshot. "The demon left you."
Tim flinched at the mention of the entity that had controlled him. "No...how long...was I…"
"Possessed?" Tim gave him a slight nod. "Best we can figure...a little over eight months."
McGee's gaze drifted again and Tony braced for another flashback, but soon Tim was looking at him again.
"Felt...longer."
"How much do you remember?"
"Enough…"
Tony let his hand drop and he gently gripped McGee's arm. McGee flinched a little and Tony immediately withdrew his hand.
"Tim...I am so sorry. We should have figured it out sooner. We should have paid more attention."
"How did you...figure it out?"
"Abby did, actually. During your trip to Mexico."
Tim's eyes widened. "Is she...OK?"
"Yeah, she's OK. Worried sick about you, but otherwise, she's fine."
"The rest…?"
"They're fine, too. Also worried about you." Tony decided to try and find out why Tim had reacted the way he did. "Especially Ducky." An anguished expression crossed Tim's face. "Tim, why were you afraid of him?"
Tim closed his eyes and turned away. "Sorry…"
"You don't need to apologize. Can you tell me?" Tim shook his head.
"Tell him...not his fault."
"Could you tell him yourself?" After a brief pause, Tim nodded. "OK. I'll be right back." Tony quickly walked to the door and waved Ducky inside. "He'll talk to you."
"Did he say why he…?"
"No, but he says it's not your fault."
"Very well." Ducky followed Tony back into the ward, and Tony could see that Tim was trying not to show fear, but his eyes gave him away. Ducky slowly approached Tim's bed and sat down in the chair next to him so he was at eye level.
"How are you feeling, Timothy?"
"I…" He glanced up at Tony. "I'm OK." He swallowed nervously but pressed on. "I'm...glad to see you."
"I am very glad to see you, too." He raised his hand to brush a strand of hair from Tim's forehead. Tim flinched and closed his eyes, causing Ducky to pause.
"I'm not going to hurt you. Whatever you may have seen, you must know-"
"It wasn't real," Tim whispered. "I know. I'm just…"
"Getting used to the idea?"
"Yeah."
"Can you tell me…" Tim tensed and shook his head. "I understand."
"Sorry."
"You have nothing for which to apologize."
"I don't...I don't want to be like this."
"You will get better. Physically, you are recovering well, as your doctor already told you."
"But...I'm a mess." He slowly pointed to his forehead. "Up here."
"You will get better, Timothy. We'll be here to help you."
Tim said nothing, and Tony got the strong impression that Tim didn't believe what Ducky was telling him.
"He's right, Tim. We'll get you back in fighting shape in no time."
"If you say so…"
"Anthony, why don't you go call Jethro and let him know what's going on."
Tony understood the code for 'I want to speak to Tim alone' and nodded.
"OK. Behave yourself, Probie." Tony gave McGee one of his famous grins, but the younger man didn't respond. Tony sighed and headed out to call Gibbs.
Roughly twenty minutes later the rest of the team arrived. Abby was practically bouncing so Tony grabbed her before she ran in to see Tim.
"Go easy with him, Abbs. He's not up to getting a full strength Abby-hug yet."
"I'll be careful, I promise."
They headed into the ward, with Tony still keeping a hold of Abby. Tim appeared to have fallen asleep again, but Ducky shook his head at Gibbs' questioning look.
"Timothy, you have some more visitors."
Tim's eyes opened and Tony could see that he was struggling to remain calm. Abby immediately stepped up to the bed and leaned down to give him a gentle hug, and gesture that was not returned as Tim lay stiffly on the bed.
"I'm so glad to see you, Tim. I've missed you." She stepped back, expecting some sort of response, but he only nodded. Several moments passed before he finally spoke.
"Missed you...too."
Ziva did not touch him, but instead leaned closer and gave him a gentle smile. "How are you feeling, McGee?"
Again, it took him a moment to come up with a response. "OK...I guess." He turned his attention to Gibbs. "Sorry, Boss…"
"Not your fault, McGee. I just wish we could have done something sooner."
"We all wish that," Ziva added. "We are sorry you had to go through...what you went through."
"Not sure...you could have helped." A stricken look crossed his face. "Might have been worse...for you." He looked at Gibbs again. "I understand...if you can't work with me…"
"That's never been a question, McGee."
"Boss is right. We all want you back on the team." Tony turned to look at the rest of the team members who all nodded. "You just concentrate on getting better. OK?"
"OK…"
Before they had a chance to say anything else, a nurse came in and gave them all an annoyed look.
"Visitor's are limited to two at a time. Most of you will have to leave."
Abby opened her mouth to protest but Tony grabbed her arm and she stopped. "We were just getting ready to leave. Come on, Abby, Ziva, let's go."
Abby reached down to kiss Tim's cheek and he managed not to flinch, but his expression told Tony that had been a monumental task. Ziva noticed as well, and she refrained from touching him.
"Sleep well, McGee. We will be back tomorrow."
He nodded, a ghost of a smile passing over his face. "'Bye."
"Boss?"
"Gonna stick around for awhile. OK with you, McGee?"
"Yes, Boss."
"All right. See ya tomorrow, McGee."
Tony herded the rest of the team out into the hall before taking one last look back at his partner. He couldn't shake the sensation that McGee's struggle to return to normal was going to be much worse than they imagined.
XXX
That night, McGee woke up screaming.
Gibbs was still sitting in the chair next to his bed, almost asleep. He had tried to talk to McGee, to explain how much the team regretted what had happened and that they had no reservations about him returning to NCIS, but in the back of his mind he knew that fight was not going to be easy. Vance had already insisted on a battery of psychological tests to help find the source of McGee's 'breakdown', and to be honest Gibbs wasn't really sure how he'd be able to help Tim navigate through what the next few weeks would bring. He and Ducky had both assured him they'd deal with the director, but he had sensed Tim's apprehension.
The first cry brought him out of his daze and he immediately got up and moved into Tim's line of sight. Tim's eyes were wide open, but he was clearly not seeing the man leaning over him as his terrified screams increased in intensity and volume.
"Easy, Tim. You're OK." The soothing tone did nothing to calm him and soon several nurses were rushing towards his bed.
"What happened?"
"Nightmare. Come on, McGee, snap out of it!" Gibbs had to hold Tim down to keep him from thrashing, and it was harder than he had expected. Finally Tim's eyes focused on Gibbs and instead of calming he grew even more panicked as he fought against Gibbs' grip.
"No! Don't! Get away!"
"McGee!"
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tim's doctor inject something into the IV line and soon Tim's struggles grew weaker. Gibbs was able to get him back down onto the bed and finally Tim's head dropped onto his pillow as the rest of his body relaxed. He blinked sluggishly several times before he appeared to rejoin reality.
"B-boss…?"
"Yeah, McGee, I'm here. You're OK."
"No...I'm not."
"You will be."
McGee didn't answer as his eyes slipped shut and he fell into unconsciousness.
The doctor finished checking Tim's vital signs before he turned to address Gibbs.
"I think it's time to move him to a more suitable place."
"Suitable?"
"The psychiatric unit. He has physically recovered enough that he no longer needs to be in intensive care, but he needs a controlled environment in order to better deal with his other issues."
"You want to send him off to the nut house?"
The doctor winced. "No, I want to help him heal mentally as well as physically. Right now he's a danger to himself…" The doctor glanced around the ward where nurses were checking on the other patients. "And he's a disruption to their well-being as well."
"So move him to a private room. We'll stay with him, like we've been doing."
"As I told your other agent, you are not equipped to deal with this. These extreme swings from terror to apathy are a sign of a deep-rooted psychological problem. This is not something that will go away on its own."
"And locking him a padded room will help?"
"I assure you, there will be no 'padded rooms' involved, and the staff is well equipped to help him recover from whatever traumatic event obviously took place."
"Don't think they're prepared for this one," Gibbs muttered, earning him a confused glance from the doctor. "And I doubt he'd be willing to talk about it with someone who doesn't know the whole story."
"Perhaps not at first, but it certainly doesn't seem that the people who do know are helping him. His fear increased when he saw you, Agent Gibbs. Now I don't know what part your team played in his trauma-."
"We didn't do anything to him." Gibbs sighed. "But we didn't do enough to stop it."
"Then perhaps he doesn't need those reminders."
"We're not leaving him alone. It will be worse if we do, trust me."
"Fine. I will have him transferred to a private room tomorrow morning, but if there isn't an improvement in his mental state within 48 hours, I'll have no choice but to take a different approach." He checked Tim over once again. "He should sleep for a few hours. You look like you need some rest as well. Go home, Agent Gibbs."
"I'm fine. Don't want him to wake up alone."
Finally the doctor sensed it was a losing battle. "All right. I'll see you in the morning."
Gibbs returned to his seat and put his hand on Tim's forehead. He didn't flinch, and Gibbs wasn't sure if that was an improvement or a sign of how deeply he was sleeping.
"You're gonna be OK, Tim. We're gonna make sure of it. No matter what it takes."
XXX
Tim struggled to open his eyes, wondering briefly why he felt so lousy before the memories of the previous night came crashing down on him and he groaned, fear and embarrassment surging through him.
"McGee?"
He managed to force his eyes open and stared up at the person leaning over him. He desperately tried to control his reflexes and not show his anxiety, but he knew he had failed when he saw the look in Gibbs' eyes.
"Boss...sorry about…"
"Hey, I told you before, it's not your fault. How are you feeling?"
"Like I have...a really bad hangover." Tim swallowed convulsively to fight off the nausea. "Don't want that stuff again."
"Yeah, I can understand that." Gibbs gently cupped Tim's cheek and he managed not to pull away. "You want to talk about it?"
"Not really. I know I'll need to...eventually, but…not right now."
"OK."
"Are you...OK?"
Gibbs chuckled. "I'm fine, Tim. You concentrate on getting better. Don't worry about us."
"Can't help it." He glanced around the room, surprised to see he was still in the ICU. "When am I getting out of here?"
"They're gonna move you to a private room this morning."
"Oh...good." Suddenly a horrible thought passed through his mind. "Where?"
"Just a regular room. Not letting them stick you in the mental ward."
"Might be where I belong…" Tim could feel the nightmares trying to invade reality again, but he fought it. Gibbs gave him an understanding smile.
"No, it's not. You'll be OK, Tim."
"Doesn't look so sure...from in here."
Gibbs was about to respond when one of the nurses arrived.
"We need to do a couple of checks and then we'll be moving Agent McGee to his new room. Why don't you take a break, Agent Gibbs?"
"You OK with that, McGee?"
"Yeah, Boss...you look like you need...coffee."
Gibbs chuckled. "I'll survive without it."
"It's OK…"
Gibbs reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver pendant attached to a cord. He wrapped the cord around Tim's wrist so the pendant rested on the palm of his hand. Tim gave him a puzzled look at he leaned in to whisper in Tim's ear.
"To keep you safe. Trust me."
"OK..."
Gibbs patted his cheek before standing up and stretching slightly. "I'll be back when you're settled. OK?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Boss."
After Gibbs left, the nurse walked up to his bed and stared down at him, a strange smile on his face. Alarms started ringing in Tim's head as the nurse leaned in closer, and his heart leapt into his throat when the man's eyes suddenly turned pitch black.
"Hi Timmy. Remember me?"
TBC…
