Chapter 9
Tim's hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Ducky watched him, and he could see that there was something Tim was holding back. He was suppressing it with every fiber of his being, but it was eating away at him from the inside. Maybe Tim couldn't see the coming destruction, but it was there and Ducky had no intention of letting it come to pass.
"Timothy, please."
"No."
"You have no reason to try to hide whatever it is you don't wish to share."
"It's none of your business."
"Perhaps not. But I am trying to help, even if you don't want to believe it."
"You're not helping."
Ducky smiled. Tim was staring at the dashboard, grinding out each word. Unless he missed his guess, Ducky thought that Tim would say something soon. It might not be the most important, in fact, it probably wouldn't be, but it would be something.
"I think I am, but I can understand if you don't think so. Timothy, why did you quit? There was no need to do that."
"Yes, there was."
"Why?"
"Because I..."
"Why?" Ducky asked again. He was so close to revealing something.
"I couldn't solve the case."
"That's happened before."
"Not like this."
"What made the difference?"
"I gave all my time to it."
"Yes. You did all that was asked and more."
"And it wasn't enough. I did all that...and I still failed."
"No, Timothy," Ducky said. "Sometimes, cases don't get solved. It's no failure."
"Yes, it is!" Tim said, angrily. "It is."
"Why?"
There was a muscle working in Tim's cheek and he swallowed more than once.
"Timothy, how could this possibly be a failure?"
"Because!" Tim burst out and then stopped.
Ducky waited, knowing Tim would keep going eventually. He wasn't disappointed.
"Because I did all that and my sister killed herself and I still couldn't solve the case! My sister committed suicide and...and it still wasn't enough. I neglected her. I left her alone and it still wasn't enough!"
That wasn't everything, which surprised Ducky...because he had half-suspected this from Tim...but that wasn't the real source of Tim's pain and desire to hide himself away. Still, it was a beginning.
"Timothy, that's not true."
"It is true," Tim said. "I didn't even know she was seeing a therapist. I didn't know that she was depressed. I didn't know because I wasn't there for her! She's my baby sister and I was supposed to watch out for her. I didn't do that...because I was too busy doing my job. Getting pulled here and there and everywhere when family is supposed to be the most important. I put it last."
"You gave the time you could."
"No, I didn't. I gave all my time to my job, trying to do too much just because it was asked of me. I didn't bother doing anything else."
"And you feel guilty for that?"
"Yes!"
Something about the way he said it made Ducky wonder.
"Timothy, is there something more?"
"No!"
Tim suddenly got out of the car and started walking into the trees. Ducky was surprised at the change. He opened the door and got out, hurrying after.
"Timothy, wait."
Tim stopped but he didn't turn around.
"Timothy, you have no reason to feel guilty. It was a difficult situation. You were harried and so were many others. It's not something to blame on anyone, including yourself."
Tim didn't say anything. Ducky waited for a few seconds, but Tim didn't speak. He didn't turn around either. He just stood by himself, apparently determined to remain isolated.
"Timothy, everyone knows that you love your sister and..."
"I don't," Tim whispered.
"What?"
"I don't love my sister. I hate her. I can't think of anyone I've hated more than I hate her," Tim said, his voice low.
"Why?"
That was it. That was the important question. This was the important moment. Tim suddenly turned around, looking pained beyond measure.
"I hate my sister!" he shouted. "Okay? I hate her! Everyone keeps telling me that it must be so hard because of how close we were! It's not true! It's all a huge lie! She said that she loved me but it was all a lie!"
Ducky was surprised at Tim's anger. He didn't say anything. He just stared, thinking that Tim would say more if he waited.
"If she had loved me, she wouldn't have killed herself! If she had cared at all, she would have told me what she was thinking! ...and I hate her."
Tim spun back around, but not before Ducky had seen the first sign of tears in Tim's eyes.
"Timothy..."
"You can't make that go away, Ducky. I hate her...just like I hated my dad when he was...only he didn't die. She did. ...and they both should have known."
"What should they have known, Timothy?" Ducky asked gently. Now that Tim was finally saying what he'd not been saying before, he wanted Tim to get all of it out at once.
"How much it would hurt me! ...but they didn't. They didn't think about that. They didn't think that it might be hard for...they didn't."
"People who are suicidal often can't think of anyone but themselves, Timothy," Ducky said.
"She never said anything to me! Never! I would have...I know I would have, but..."
"Timothy, you just couldn't have the same situation as with your father. It was unlikely that you would have happened upon her after..."
"I didn't."
"Didn't what?"
"I knew."
"What do you mean, Timothy?" Ducky asked.
"My dad. It wasn't luck."
"Tell me."
"Why? It happened a long time ago. Doesn't matter now."
Ducky could hear Tim trying to regain control and stop sharing how he felt. If allowed, he would clam up, having only told part of the story, and Ducky didn't want to have him stop halfway through.
"What happened, Timothy? You said it wasn't luck that you found your father."
"I don't...want to...talk about it anymore, Ducky."
"I know, but you need to."
Tim turned away again, and this time, Ducky walked over and put his hand on Tim's shoulder, squeezing it gently.
"Tell me, Timothy."
"Dad had...planned it all out in advance...even down to...writing a suicide note, explaining why this was the best option," Tim said softly. "I found it. I found it but I didn't believe that he would really do it. Dad had been telling me over and over again that it wasn't my fault, that it would all be okay...and all that time he had lied. It wasn't okay. It was my fault." The tears almost fell again, but Tim held them back. "I left it where it was, thinking that it couldn't be real because Dad wouldn't have lied to me. ...but the next day...after Mom left for work and my sister and I went to school...I thought I'd go back just in case. I pretended to have forgotten something and sent her on ahead while I ran home. I came inside and went into Mom and Dad's room."
"And?"
"And Dad just stared at me. He had all of his pills out and he was getting ready to take them. And I knew right then that Dad had lied and that he didn't care. I didn't say any of that. I just stared at him. If he had really cared...but he didn't. He only cared about himself and I was so...so mad at him. I wouldn't talk to him for weeks after that."
"He didn't try after he saw you?" Ducky asked.
"No, he didn't. He told me later that he couldn't have after he saw the look in my eyes. Because he had...betrayed me. He had lied."
"And Sarah?"
"She lied, too! And she died and there was no reason to! She kept saying that she couldn't be as good as me, but it was wrong! She was wrong! There was no reason for her to feel that way. I never told her that and Mom and Dad never pushed her to do anything but what would make her happy!"
"Sometimes, it doesn't matter what other people say. It only matters what one thinks."
"I don't care!" Tim said, angry again. "I don't care what excuse there was. I don't care what she was going to tell me! She sent me a letter and I ripped it up. I don't want to know what excuse she had for what she did. I don't care!"
"Yes, you do, Timothy," Ducky said.
"No!"
"Yes, and it's time for you admit it. If you didn't care about Sarah, you wouldn't be so angry about her decision."
"I don't care!"
"Yes, you do. Timothy, if you do not face what your sister chose to do and your own feelings about it...you are headed down a path that could lead to your parents mourning the loss of their only surviving child. Is that what you want?"
"I would never do what she did!" Tim said loudly. "Never!"
"Not willingly and not in your right mind, but Timothy, think about what you've done already! You quit the job you love and are declaring that you hate the sister for whom you have been willing to give up everything. That is not the behavior of someone who is in his right mind. What are you going to do? Not just right now, but in the future? What will you do? You can't hide forever and if you try, you will destroy yourself."
Tim tried to pull away, but he didn't try very hard and Ducky easily held him back.
"Timothy, what you feel is understandable. You feel hurt and betrayed by someone you loved. You also feel that you should have been able to save her. You couldn't."
Tim took a deep breath but that was all.
"Please, Timothy, just let it out now. I will not be disgusted. I understand as much as it is possible for someone who has not felt it to understand. I do not blame you for feeling as you do."
"I don't..." Tim took a couple of deep gulping breaths. "She felt abandoned, Ducky. ...and I only paid attention to her until she was buried. I don't want to cry for her. She doesn't deserve it. She deserves to be forgotten. I don't want to give her anything else of me."
"Because you feel that she betrayed you."
"She didn't tell me!" Tim said. "She had all that time to tell me and she never did! Never!"
"She didn't want to, Timothy. If she had wanted you to know, she would have done so."
"That's why I'm not going...to cry for her."
Ducky walked around so that he was facing Tim directly, although Tim was much taller.
"If you don't want to cry for Sarah, maybe you should allow the tears that you wish to cry for yourself," he suggested. "You have lost much, Timothy. Allow yourself to grieve, if only for that loss."
Tim closed his eyes and shook his head.
"Yes, lad. It is all right to cry."
Tim's lower lip was shaking as he continued to shake his head.
"Let it out," Ducky said, keeping his voice low and soothing. There would be no hint of censure or frustration. Just acceptance.
The first tears fell silently, but Tim's shoulders started shaking and he covered his face with his hands.
"That's right, lad," Ducky said.
"I...h-h-hate her, Ducky," Tim gasped out through his tears.
"That's all right," he said, although he thought that Tim was wrong. While he definitely felt anger, it wasn't driven by hatred.
Ducky put his arm around Tim and led him back to the car, but instead of having Tim get behind the wheel, he led him to the passenger side and helped him sit. Then, he hurried around to the driver's side and got in. Tim was still crying, not loudly, but persistently. Ducky looked at the clock. Not much after six in the morning. If he left now, Ducky figured could get them to his place before the traffic was too bad.
"I'm taking you to my home, Timothy," he said softly.
Tim didn't reply. Ducky took that as an agreement. He started the car and drove away from the small clearing.
The drive to Georgetown was relatively brief, thank goodness, but by the time they arrived, Tim had stopped crying and was sitting listlessly in his seat. He didn't bother protesting when Ducky stopped the car in front of his house. When Ducky turned the car off, he just got out and let Ducky lead him inside.
"Come, lad. I think you need to take some more time to sleep. I'd wager that you need it."
"I don't...I keep dreaming of her," Tim said softly. "She's always teasing me while she dies."
The sorrow in Tim's voice pulled at Ducky's heart.
"Then, why not just lie down for a little while," Ducky said.
Tim seemed unable to disagree. He followed Ducky into the spare room, lay down and stared at the ceiling.
"I wanted it to be a mistake," Tim said very softly. "I didn't want to hate her." Another tear fell.
There was nothing to say to that. Ducky withdrew. He wanted to make a quick call, letting the others know that Tim had been found and was at least safe...if not sound.