Chapter 9

Fornell smiled encouragingly as Tim shifted uncomfortably. He had offered to come in and give his statement almost as soon as he'd been released from the hospital. Fornell had told him he could wait, but Tim had said he wanted to get it over with.

"I appreciate your coming in, Agent McGee."

"Yeah. I can't tell you a lot of details. I was pretty out of it most of the time."

"I understand. Since Danica Laurence was killed, we don't have a court case, but we need to have all the information we can."

"Right."

"Why don't you just start at the beginning? How did she get to you?"

Tim sighed.

"She was sitting out on the steps of the building. She looked pretty upset about something. I asked her and she said that things weren't working out how she'd thought. I offered to talk with her, let her get some of the frustration out. She agreed. We went to a bar. She said she was looking for someone who had left her."

"Her husband, Joseph Laurence."

Tim nodded. "She didn't tell me that, but yeah."

"Go on."

"We had a drink and then she bought the next round and I started feeling sick and dizzy."

"She must have drugged your drink."

Tim cleared his throat and nodded again. He was definitely uncomfortable with this.

"We can do this later, McGee," Fornell said. "You're not required to talk about all this as soon you're back in your own place."

"No. It's fine," Tim said quickly. "I passed out at some point. She drove me somewhere and strapped me to a table or something. The next thing I knew I was alone in the dark...until she came back. She took a lot of pictures of me. She said that..." He stopped and stared at the table. "She said that Joey was inside of me and she had to let him out."

Fornell blinked a few times in surprise. That sounded a lot like what Danica's father had apparently said about her.

"Did she say how she was going to do that?"

"Not that I remember, but she was going to kill me. I guess that was going to do it. Photos show the real soul of someone but she figured out that she could release the soul...by killing me. Joey was like me, she said. He was...anyway, she said that her mom's soul was inside her but her dad never knew how to release her. She cut off...some of my hair."

Tim's hand rubbed at the spot where his hair was missing.

"I don't know what order all that goes in. It's so fuzzy in my head. I just remember those pieces." He shrugged. "I don't know which came first."

"It's all right. Anything else?"

"I started to get away once, but it was so hard to move and she came back again. I didn't get very far. She put me back on the table again."

"That you could even think about getting away with the drugs in your system...that's pretty impressive, McGee."

Tim just shrugged.

"I really can't tell you anything else. I had no idea where I was, why she picked me. I didn't know what she was giving me until after. All that stuff she said...it made no sense to me. I didn't know why she was cutting off my hair."

His hand moved up to the patch again.

"That's all right, McGee. All we want is what you have. You've given us what we needed. So...how are you doing?"

Another meaningless shrug.

"Really, McGee. Head all cleared out and everything?"

"Yeah. I just have..." Yet another shrug.

"You seeing a shrink?"

"Yeah. Mandatory."

"Is it helping?"

"I'm sure it will eventually. Right now?" And another shrug.

"Well, you know you can talk to people if you need to...and while I know I'm probably not on your list, you can put me there if you want."

Tim stood up.

"Thanks, Agent Fornell. They tell me it'll just take time. That's all. If you need anything else, let me know."

"Will do."

Tim let himself out of the room, leaving Fornell to look at his notes. Tim wasn't fine yet. That was clear. He was still upset about what had happened and that was completely understandable. Being taken in and almost killed was not a situation anyone wanted to be in.

Still, he hoped that Tim would adjust to it sooner rather than later.

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

Three days later...

Tim was in his apartment, sitting on his bed, Jethro drooling helpfully on his leg. The TV was on, but Tim wasn't paying attention to it at all. He was going over and over what had happened. How was it possible that he had been taken in yet again? What was it about him that made him such a sap?

He sighed heavily. He would be better off really joining a monastery than he was trying to function out in the real world again. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. And what was worse was that he couldn't even see where he'd gone wrong. He had been careful. He hadn't put himself forward. He'd just been nice and that was it.

And that was one of the reasons she said Joey was inside me. Nice guys really do finish last, Tim thought to himself.

There was a knock on the door. Jethro lifted his head hopefully. His tail started wagging and he looked at Tim.

Tim just sighed and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. He didn't want to talk to anyone right now. He had no interest in any well-meaning attempts to make him feel better about something that couldn't possibly be improved.

Yet another woman had not only not been interested in him, she had tried to kill him...and had almost succeeded.

Another knock.

"Tim, it is Ziva!"

Jethro jumped to his feet and panted at Tim. He recognized the voice. Tim grimaced. He definitely didn't want to see Ziva. Ziva who had warned him over and over about Danica. Nope.

More knocking.

"Tim, I am not leaving!"

Tim sighed in exasperation and got up. He walked to the door and opened it. He stood in the opening and didn't let Ziva in.

"What do you want, Ziva?"

"I wanted to see how you are doing. You have not spoken to anyone at NCIS since you gave your statement to Fornell."

"I'm fine. You can report on that to everyone else. Okay?"

Tim started to close the door, but Ziva put out her hand and stopped him.

"Wait, Tim. You are not fine."

"Oh, so you're right about that, too? You know everything else, why not how I really am?"

Ziva's face scrunched up in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

Tim rolled his eyes and walked away from the door. He left it open, allowing Ziva to come in. She did, following him back to his bedroom.

"Tim, what did you mean?"

Tim turned around.

"I mean that I'm sick and tired of misjudging every person who comes into my sphere of existence. I'm sick and tired of having people like you and Tony telling me what a huge mistake I'm making and then having you be right! I'm sick and tired of being taken advantage of. I'm sick and tired of being the one who can't seem to manage his own life. That's what I mean, Ziva! You were right about her, okay? She was not only not a nice person, she was insane and tried to kill me! How many times will that happen?" He forced a laugh. "You know what? It's never going to happen again because I have no interest in ever dealing with this kind of situation again. I'm done."

"Done?"

"Yes. Done. It's over. Finished. I'm throwing in the towel. I'm giving up. I'm not going to ever try and date again. You and Tony have taken great joy in pointing out how bad I am at choosing someone. I'm finally agreeing with you and I'm not going to do it again."

He let out a loud exhalation and sat down on his bed. Jethro came up and nuzzled him.

"See? Even Jethro knows how pitiful I am."

Ziva came over and sat beside him.

"You are not pitiful, Tim. I never would have imagined that she would have been a killer."

"You still told me not to be so eager."

"But you did everything right, Tim. You were careful and you took your time. Her actions could not have been anticipated."

"Right."

"No, really, Tim."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Are you angry or are you still afraid?"

Tim felt more annoyed by the fact that Ziva could tell there was more to his rudeness than anger. He didn't want to get into that.

"Look, I have to talk about this stuff to my shrink. I don't need another therapist, Ziva."

Ziva was being extremely patient.

"I was not offering to be a therapist. I was offering to be a friend, Tim. I think you need friends, but you are avoiding us. None of us blame you for what happened."

"I know."

"Then, why? Do you blame yourself?"

He got to his feet and faced away from her.

"Maybe...because I hate what happened, Ziva. She was going to kill me so that she could find her dead husband inside me. ...and she kissed me right before she died. It's embarrassing. It's humiliating. It's..."

"Frightening?" Ziva suggested.

"I was just trying to be friendly," Tim said, avoiding any agreement. "That's all. If something more had come of it, I would have been happy to see, but I was just trying to be nice."

"That is a good thing, Tim."

"Not when it led to me almost being killed."

There was a long silence. Long enough that Tim looked at Ziva again. She was looking more uncertain than he had expected. It was enough to cool his anger at the situation.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"There is something that I wanted to tell you, but I was not sure if I should."

"What?" Tim asked.

"The night that...that Danica took you. I called and asked you to dinner."

"Yeah, so?" Tim asked, choosing to focus on Jethro.

"Well...I was...not just asking you to join all of us."

"What were you asking then?"

"To join...me."

Tim looked at Ziva in confusion.

"What?"

Ziva looked awkward.

"I was asking you to join me. I was asking you to dinner."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to spend time with you. Because I missed that...and I will admit that I was feeling a little jealous."

"Jealous? Of who?"

"Danica."

"What?"

"You were interested in her and because you were embarrassed about it...you stopped spending time with us. I missed you. I had...decided that...that I was going to talk to you and...and so I called."

It was now Ziva's turn to look at Jethro instead of Tim. She petted the dog gently and he licked at her hand. Tim felt like the conversation had taken a strange turn into a whole different area.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

"What just happened here?"

She laughed a little and met his gaze. He was struck again by how different her eyes were from Danica's. The warm dark brown instead of the deep blue. The comparison reminded him of what had happened and he felt uncomfortable with what was being said. He looked away.

"I confessed that I like you, Tim. That is what happened."

"Why? Why right now when I'm...not really in the mood for...anything, especially not that."

"Because I am afraid that how you feel now is all you will let yourself feel. That would be wrong because you are such a good person, Tim. You deserve a lot more than that. If this is not the time, there is no pressure to answer me."

To Tim's surprise, Ziva reached out her hand toward him.

"I want to help you if I can," she said.

Tim sat down and let her take his hand. Something about her expression loosened his resistence to acknowledging how he felt.

"I am...still afraid," he said softly. "I don't want to be taken in again."

"I understand."

"I just don't get why this keeps happening."

"I do not know the answer to that."

"I don't, either. I hate it. I was so sure that I was careful...but it wasn't enough. Really, Ziva, the only logical solution seems to be to give up."

Ziva squeezed his hand.

"No. You cannot give up."

"Why not?"

She smiled.

"Because I told Tony that you would never give up. I do not want to be wrong."

Tim laughed and then sighed.

"Ziva...I appreciate it, but right now..."

"You have other worries. I do not mind. Do you want to be alone? I can leave."

Tim thought about it. Sitting alone, staring at the ceiling, or having company to distract him from what had happened. It wasn't a tough choice.

"No. Not really."

"Then, if you would like, I will stay."

"I'd like that."

Ziva's smile widened.

"Good."

She didn't seem to mind not talking. Tim sat back on the bed and Ziva sat beside him. He turned the TV back on and they sat together.

After a few minutes, Tim fell asleep.

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

Ziva woke up when she felt movement and heard sounds. She sat up and realized that she had fallen asleep on Tim's bed.

...and Tim was having something of a nightmare. He wasn't speaking. He was just reacting to...something.

"Tim, wake up. It is all right."

Tim was tossing and turning. His eyes opened slightly but then fell closed again. He kept making sounds. Ziva held Tim and tried to guide him back to consciousness.

"It is a dream, a nightmare. It is not real, Tim. Wake up."

Tim's eyes opened again and it took a few seconds for him to register where he was and who was with him. ...and he gradually realized that he was lying on his bed with Ziva's arms around him. She could tell the moment he was fully aware. He stiffened and sat up, pulling away from her.

"What time is it?" he asked, awkwardly.

Ziva looked at the clock.

"Three in the morning. I fell asleep, too."

Tim cleared his throat and swallowed.

"Um...oh..."

Ziva smiled.

"You were having a nightmare?"

"Yeah."

"Does that happen to you a lot?"

"No...yeah. Most nights. But I usually get back to sleep, too."

"I was not criticizing, Tim. I am just concerned."

"Sorry. This wasn't what I was...expecting to see. I guess."

Ziva could see that Tim wasn't going to relax with her there, not now that he realized they had been, in effect, sleeping together...even if that was all they had been doing. She got up off the bed.

"I hope that I will see you back at work soon," she said.

"I should be...soon."

Tim got up, too.

"I know the way out, Tim."

"It's not polite to let a guest leave on their own," Tim said, trying to sound at least a little less embarrassed.

They walked to the door. Ziva opened it.

"Hey...Ziva?"

She turned back.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for...coming by...and...not letting me just be a jerk."

Ziva laughed a little.

"You were upset. I understand."

"It's no excuse," Tim said.

Ziva patted Tim on the cheek.

"No, it is a reason, and I understand."

"Thanks."

Ziva turned to leave again.

"Ziva?"

She looked back.

"Yes?"

"About what you said before...uh..."

"Yes?"

"Maybe in a few weeks...maybe you could try asking again."

"Are you sure?"

Tim smiled weakly. "Just promise you won't try to kill me."

Ziva leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"I would never."

Then, she left the apartment with a ridiculous smile on her face.