Chapter 10
Tim became ill again, but this time, it seemed to have a genuine physical cause. Something bad he ate...or else his body had finally realized just what Tim had been feeding it and had decided that it wasn't what it wanted.
Either way, Tim was violently ill for three days. Anything he tried to eat didn't stay down long enough to do him any good. In the end, they used some of the precious kerosene and boiled the fish in water, making a broth that would at least have some of the nutrients of the fish, something that Tim could possibly use to keep his body functioning. His strength and energy melted away. The only positive thing about those three days is that he was too weak to feel the sea inside him. Too weak to do anything but resist being taken into the lighthouse for shelter.
Eira stayed with him through those three days, not leaving his side even once. Others brought her food instead.
After those three days, it took another four before Tim had strength enough to get up again. When he finally started eating again, they made him eat the boiled fish, thinking that it would be easier on his stomach than the raw. He managed to choke it down, the first cooked anything he'd had in weeks. It was almost a delicacy to eat a boiled fish...and a fish that was not only boiled but boiled so long that it was nearly falling apart. At least it was easy to pick out the bones.
Daytime temperatures began hitting the yearly average high of 60 degrees and, when the sun was out, it felt nice and so they stopped trying to get him to go into the lighthouse, instead, insisting that he sit in the place with the most sun.
As he recovered, Tim noticed that Erlend was gone again...and that the other selkies seemed to have found a degree of respect for him. He found that he was mostly amused by that...not happy, relieved or anything else. Act like a child and get respect. Bear things stoically and be considered strange.
...but his weakness worried him more than anything else. It was clear that his body wasn't going to quickly recover from this latest illness. This simply wasn't the environment for it. Each illness took him lower and lower...and he never quite got back to normal.
...and the other thing was that it reiterated the fact that he was not and never would be a selkie in anything but spirit. He shivered all through the night while the seals and selkies felt like organic furnaces.
He lay on his blanket, watching the puffins (and there were loads of them on the island now...he tried to make sure he didn't accidentally step on a burrow or bother them in any way), feeling the sun.
...and wondering what he could possibly have to look forward to in the near future.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim's apartment wasn't large, but he had managed to fill the space very well. The tall bookshelves were used as divisions between the book/record world and the computer world. Then, his bedroom, with his clothes...again, neatly organized. Tim wasn't a clothes horse by any means, but he had a fair amount...and he didn't seem to have been inclined to get rid of anything until it was totally worn out.
There were currently six people in the apartment: Sam, Naomi, Tony, Ziva, Abby and Jimmy. Sam had been lifted up the stairs, wheelchair and all, by Jimmy and Tony. He and Naomi were in Tim's bedroom, trying to decide what to do with their son's clothing. The others were packing his things in boxes. There was so much stuff there that Sam and Naomi had decided just to pack it all back to Ohio with them and they'd decide what to do with it later.
They had also told everyone that they could take something as a keepsake if they wanted to do so. Tim wouldn't have minded.
So as they packed books in boxes, untangled what seemed like miles of wire, and listened to Tim's record collection, they looked at what summed up his life and tried to decide how best they could preserve some memory of it.
"Hey! Look at this!" Tony said with a laugh.
"What?" Abby asked.
"It's the CD I brought him from Germany! The Best of David Hasselhoff! I didn't think he'd actually keep it. It looks like he even opened it. Man, what if he was a secret Hasselhoff fan?" Tony laughed but then had to clear his throat as he set the CD in a box. ...and then took it out again, looked at it, and said softly, "I'll take this."
Abby had already claimed her keepsake: one of Tim's MIT shirts. It was neatly folded and lying on the counter.
"This is so depressing," Jimmy said, staring at the shelves that were slowly being emptied. "I mean...it's just...wrong that we're doing this...clearing out all these things that were important to McGee. He kept it all for a reason, and now...we're helping decide what to keep and what to get rid of."
Ziva, kneeling on the ground, resolutely filling a box with books, did not look up as she answered Jimmy's unspoken question.
"He will not care. McGee is not...coming back and he will not miss these things," she said in a rough voice. "...but if he does, I will gladly return what I take."
"What are you taking?"
Ziva looked up and smiled, but there were tears in her eyes. "His Harry Potter books. What about you, Jimmy?"
"His Miles Davis record."
"What about Gibbs and Ducky?" Abby asked.
"They'll come later on," Tony said without hesitation. "Probably just don't want us to see what they take. Ducky did swipe my stapler when you guys thought I was dead."
They all laughed...but it was half-hearted at best. Clearing out the belongings of a dead friend was not the best place to have a laugh.
...but they did find reasons to laugh. The laugh always had some pain attached to it, but still there were moments. ...like when they found that Tim had a copy of a book called Movie Megacheese by Michael J. Nelson...or when one of the records in Tim's collection turned out to be a reading of a children's book called Little Black Sambo, a story in which the culminating action was a number of tigers running around in a circle until they turned into butter. These things gave them a moment of levity, realizing that Tim had hidden facets they had never seen. It was like discovering a hidden treasure...and they wished they could ask him about these things, these little insights.
Then, Abby was tasked with breaking into Tim's computer and finding what he had on it...and she found Tim's personal playlists...beyond the jazz. One of the lists was entitled "Songs for bad days"...and a hidden treasure trove: playlists all listed as "Songs inspired by..." There was one for Tony, Ziva, Abby, Jimmy, Ducky, even Gibbs. There was also a list for Kate. They had fun looking at the songs Tim had chosen, some of which were totally wrong, but all the more fun for that...and he had a much larger music collection than any of them had realized.
And it was both wonderful and tragic to find that they were getting to know Tim so well.
...now that it was too late.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
One week later...
She would not be able to hide it for much longer. She knew that. Soon enough, the others would realize that she was pregnant and they would know that it was time to leave.
She was determined to leave on her terms, however, not theirs.
...and she looked at Tim as he slept beside her. How could she say good-bye and get him to understand? She could see it in his eyes every time he looked at her. While he had said he was pretending, it wasn't much of a pretense. ...not on either side...and that would not help either of them. They had to say good-bye. She knew it, and Tim would know it, too.
...but could he say good-bye?
Today had been one of his bad days, and in his weakened condition, the bad days were worse than before. Not that Tim was more manic but that the desperation took more out of him, caused him more pain. He had slept out of sheer exhaustion from fighting against the selkie nature she had awakened in him.
As she looked at him, she regretted the necessity that had driven her...and the knowledge that she could not have changed anything she had done. The decision had been made and it would be the way things had to be.
Tim shuddered, his left hand, the one with the ring, flailed around, seeking something. Gently, she took his hand and kissed it. His fingers tightened around hers for a moment and then he relaxed, never awakening.
He never talked about leaving anymore. He never talked about his family, his friends. In fact, since his last illness, he hadn't spoken much at all. In fact, his communication was becoming more selkie-like by the day. He only had to look at her and she knew what he was feeling.
...and soon, she would have to get him to give all that up and return to the human world. ...and somehow fit back into it.
What have I done to you?
Yes, the line had been saved, but at what cost? This was something she had never considered.
A selkie came and lifted the blanket. He looked at her and she nodded, easily disentangling herself from Tim's grasp. He didn't stir.
Then, she followed him to a gathering on the far side of the island, on the rocks, away from the puffin burrows.
None of them spoke, waiting for her to confess what she had hidden.
"Yes," she said simply.
"How long have you known?"
"A month, at least."
"Why did you not tell us?"
"I could not leave and you would have insisted."
"We must leave. It is time. We cannot be here when the humans come."
"He is not ready to leave," she said.
"He will never be ready to leave...but the longer you wait, the harder it will be."
"We cannot leave until we are certain he will be rescued."
There was a soft sound of disgust. She turned toward it.
"Erlend, you disgrace us all with your attitude."
He stood. "You have been too much with the human. You are using names."
"You are worse than any human and you do not deserve to be a selkie," she shot back. "From the beginning, you have been cruel beyond anything I would have expected of you. I will not abandon one who has played a large part in saving us all. I cannot believe that you would even consider it no matter your personal feelings."
The silence was stinging and he dropped his head, chastened...not by her words but by the silence of the others.
She looked around. "I carry not one, but two."
A murmur.
"Yes, and I agree that we must leave, but we must first ensure that he will have a chance to return to his own kind."
"What kind is that?" one asked. "We have cast him between two worlds. In which does he now belong?"
"In the only one he can...the human world. Our world is not one he can live in."
"Can he truly live as a human being now?"
"Given time.
"How will we guarantee his rescue?"
She smiled. "We will send another message."
"Who will hear it? Who can hear it and believe it?"
"There is one who may hear."
"Who?"
"More of the line lives than Tim."
"Do you have strength for it?"
"If I have help."
"Will once be enough?"
"I do not think it will. There will have to be repeated sendings over days in order for him to believe."
"Do we begin now?"
"Yes."
The selkies came together in a circle around her, each placing a hand on her shoulders. She raised her hands above her head, closed her eyes and focused her strength, not on the sleeping man whose mind was so easily touched, but on another man, a man far away, across the sea, a man whose mind was open but quieter.
When the sending was complete, she nearly fell to the ground and had to be caught.
"Can you do this with them inside you?"
She nodded. "Yes. It does not take strength from them. The message has been sent. We will do so again tomorrow."
"Will you tell him?"
She looked back where Tim was sleeping...and shook her head.
"Not yet. He will resist what must be."
"And you?"
She looked at the one who had spoken and drew herself up straight and tall.
"I know what must be and I have not forgotten. I have never forgotten. While I may regret what cannot be, I have not blinded myself. He, in his weakness, has forgotten. ...our parting will be painful and I do not want it to be lengthened."
"And now?"
She smiled, but sadly this time. "Now, I will return to him."