CHAPTER TEN
It was a gray, dismal day ten days after he'd been pulled alive from his grave that Tim McGee finally came to. It was early morning and the hospital was quiet. Tim woke slowly becoming gradually aware of his surroundings. He could hear soft beeping noises in the background as the cardiac monitor kept careful track of his heart rate. He could detect the cold, antiseptic smell of the hospital and felt the soft blanket covering him. His eyes fluttered open and for a moment stared unseeing into the dimly lit hospital room. His mind was blank. He blinked as the room came into focus. It was empty except for himself and the assortment of medical equipment surround him.
Hospital. He thought vaguely. "I'm in a hospital. Is that good? Why am I in a hospital?" He looked down the length of his body and saw his leg was elevated and swathed in plaster. OK, his leg must have been broken. He coughed painfully causing him to rub his ribs with a wince. Maybe he was sick too. He thought hard trying to recall the events that brought him here then with startling clarity he saw himself in a coffin buried deep beneath the earth. His entire body went rigid, heart beat racing causing alarms to sound. In seconds, a nurse and intern hurried into the room.
"Agent McGee?" said the nurse loudly as the intern began checking McGee's vitals. "Agent McGee, can you hear me? Everything is all right! You're safe in the hospital. Do you understand?" She glanced at her colleague.
"His BP just went through the roof," muttered the intern reading the monitor, "and his heart rate is up to 120." He now turned to McGee. "Agent McGee, you're all right. Do you understand? Please, try and relax. You're safe!" McGee's eyes were staring blankly ahead, his face white and breathing ragged but eventually it seemed their words must have penetrated his panic-filled mind as he slowly began to relax.
Gasping for breath, McGee closed his eyes, his body wracked by powerful shudders. The nurse held his hand and continued to utter soothing words. Finally, he opened his eyes and focused their concerned faces. "I'm OK?" he rasped.
They smiled encouragingly at him. The intern leaned forward. "Yes, Agent McGee. You're OK. You're in the hspital. You've been here for ten days but you're getting better. Your parents will be here later this morning."
McGee closed his eyes as he considered this. "NCIS?"
"They were here for several days after you were, uh, rescued but had to return to Washington."
"They call every day," added the nurse quickly. "They are very worried about you. Special Agent Gibbs said he would be here a few days." Arrangements had been made to transfer McGee to Bethesda Naval Hospital and Gibbs wanted to be with McGee during the process. Since Morris still hadn't been captured, Gibbs felt it would be better to have McGee closer to home where they could keep an eye on him.
McGee nodded weakly at this news and drifted back into sleep. The intern, satisfied with McGee's vitals, turned to leave. "I'll let Dr. Weber know that Agent McGee has regain consciousness. I know that'll make him feel better."
The nurse took a last look as their patient as she turned to join her colleague. "His parents should be here soon. I know it will certainly be a relief to them. Not to mention the NCIS agents! That Agent Gibbs makes me a little nervous!" The intern laughed and the two softly closed the door behind them leaving McGee alone once more.
The next time McGee awoke, his parents were there watching him anxiously. "Tim?" he heard his mother say. He turned his head and blinked, trying to bring her into focus. She looked so tired, he thought with a start.
"Mom?"
Elizabeth McGee smiled in relief, wiping at the tears that were starting to trickle down her pale face. She had been so worried about her only son. She had never fully believed he was dead no matter what anyone else said. She'd felt certain she would know in her heart if he were. She gently squeezed his hand. "Yes, Tim, I'm here."
Tim smiled weakly in return. He could see his father standing next to her, his face lined with fatigue. Somehow, he looked much older than Tim remembered. "We're both here, son." His father's deep voice broke as he fought tears of his own. That alarmed Tim more than anything. His father never cried.
"Don't worry, Dad," rasped Tim trying to push himself up to prove that he really was in better shape than he appeared. Unfortunately, he simply didn't have the strength to move more than a few inches. OK, Tim thought in resignation , maybe I am in as bad a shape as I appear.
"Just lie still, Tim," said his mother, gently pushing him back into the pillows. "You've had a pretty rough time of it and you need to rest."
Rough time. Oh yes, I've had a rough time, thought Tim suppressing an irrational desire to laugh. If you only knew the half of it! He closed his eyes but they flew open almost immediately as the sensation of being trapped in the box resurfaced again.
"Tim?" McGee could feel his mother's tight grip on his arm as he fought the panic that attempted overwhelm him once again. He couldn't breathe! The earth was pressing down on him…he was going to die! He began thrashing trying to escape his underground prison, no longer hearing his parents' frantic cries. A few moments later, several hands had wrestled him down and feeling a sharp prick in his arm, he collapsed panting and moaning onto the bed.
Gibbs stood in the doorway watching the scene with growing dismay. He'd seen more than his fair share of soldiers suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome and it was obvious to him that like those soldiers, Tim was reliving the horror of his recent ordeal. Gibbs had decided not to wait once he'd heard McGee had regained consciousness and had come directly from Washington. Obviously the decision had been a good one.
As McGee gradually relaxed under the influence of the sedative, Dr. Weber approached Gibbs shaking his head. "This is what happened when he first regained consciousness. He wasn't quite as violent though. "
"Being buried alive is pretty traumatic," observed Gibbs quietly watching McGee's parents talking softly to their son.
"I can only imagine," sighed Weber looking back at his patient. "I'm hoping that the longer he remains conscious, the better he'll be able to deal with the memories but I have no doubt it will be a long road."
Gibbs nodded. "When do you think we can transfer him to Washington, doc? I'd like to get him there as soon as possible."
"Well, let's see how he does today. We should be able to transfer him the day after tomorrow if he's doing all right."
Gibbs nodded again. As the doctor departed, Gibbs quietly entered the room. McGee's eyes were somewhat unfocused but he was awake. McGee's parents smiled worriedly as their son's boss approached. They exchanged glances and with a nod, McGee's parents left, telling Tim they were going to get some coffee and would return shortly.
"Hey, Boss," said McGee weakly, struggling to focus.
Gibbs smiled. "How ya doin', McGee? Welcome back. You had us worried. Even DiNozzo. Without you to harass, he's been driving everyone else crazy."
McGee gave a feeble laugh. "I can only imagine." He lay silently for a few moments. "He may have to find himself a new target."
"Tim," replied Gibbs firmly, "Your job will wait for you as long as it takes. Once we found out you were still alive, Director Shepard told me to make that very clear to you."
McGee was silent awhile longer. "Thanks, Boss, but I'm not the same person I was before this all started. I don't think I can handle that kind of job any more. I know my kidnapping had nothing to do with NCIS but it could have been just as easily." Gibbs looked into McGee's haggard face. There was no doubt that Tim was not the same person. His eyes now harbored that distant, haunted look so common among survivors of horrific, life-threatening ordeals. It was if they were always someplace else, reliving the nightmares only imagined by others.
"Tim, this is not the time to make this decision. If you don't feel you can continue as a field agent, your computer skills alone make you an invaluable member of the agency. I've never seen anyone do what you can do with a computer. We need you, Tim."
McGee no long seemed to be listening. His eyes had grown more distant. "Morris is still out there, Boss," he whispered.
Gibbs jaw tightened. "Yeah, Tim, I know, but we're looking for him and we'll make damn sure that bastard never gets to you again. Do you understand?"
McGee closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Thanks, Boss." A few moments later he was asleep. Gibbs stared at him sadly a few minutes more than sat down to wait for McGee's parents.