Aftermath

A/N:- Aaah, isn't it lovely to have our dear Timothy back in the land of the living again?

He isn't out of the woods yet, of course, so for all you angst fans out there... read on, and enjoy! Oh, and I know I sound like a broken record here, but thank you again for all the reviews. I really am just blown away by them! :o)

Just a quick reference to Hometown Hero - otherwise, it's all as before. Enjoy!!

Chapter Ten – The Darkness Before Dawn

The darkness was lifting again. Light and sound were returning, frustratingly slowly, into his world.

There was just one voice now, softly reassuring him. Just one hand. Just one, unmistakeable aroma. As he gingerly opened his eyes, Tim McGee already knew who that voice and hand belonged to.

Where there was coffee, you could bet your life that you'd find –

– two steely blue eyes, which now crinkled into a smile that very few people were lucky enough to see

Jethro Gibbs didn't smile often, but when he did, and as broadly as this, it was a truly rare privilege. Little wonder, then, that McGee now looked so puzzled. Gibbs had never smiled at him like this before.

The last time he'd seen such open relief was on his father's face, after he'd wrecked the Camaro, and –

– woken up in hospital, cocooned in traction wires, and feeling every bit as lousy as he did now.

He'd been damn lucky then. By the same laws of science which had shaped his life since, Tim knew he should have died that day. Even without that haggard face beside him, Tim McGee knew he'd been even luckier now.

Fragments of memory were returning, playing through his mind like one of Tony's beloved movies.

An empty coffee jar, and an even emptier fridge.

A thumping headache, and a brisk walk to help clear it.

Bright sunlight, bearing the promise of a perfect spring day.

Groceries, including two jars of finest Costa Rican.

An outraged yell from the storekeeper behind him.

The sound of running feet.

Dumping his bags back on the counter, he'd started running too, after the kids who'd barged past him.

He'd yelled at them to stop, reaching for his gun, but finding only an empty belt instead, and then –

– then he'd seen one of them skid to a stop ahead of him, reach into his jacket and draw out his hand.

A glint of unmistakeable metal had aimed itself straight at his heart, and then... oh God, the pain...!

Pain like he'd never known before had ripped through his shoulder, then razored along his head, then –

– then darkness had crashed down around him, carrying him away to a horrifically beautiful world.

And long before Kate Todd had appeared, Tim McGee had known he was either dead, or not far from it.

He must have started trembling, or cried out in realization, since a strong hand now tightened around his own – a soft voice holding the same gentleness as it soothed him through the horrors of his mind.

"Easy, Tim, just ride it out. Attaboy, McGee, that's it, you're safe now, Tim, it's all over. Just breathe now, Tim, slow and steady. Ride it out."

Screwing his eyes shut, against tears of helpless pain, Tim felt his body relax, his mind start to drift. As painkilling drugs kicked in and flooded his body, his subconscious took him mercifully away from reality, to the sanctuary of a perfect, windswept beach.

It was as peaceful as before, still breathtakingly beautiful, but – no. As he'd expected, it was deserted. Waves still washed the sand where they'd stood, where he'd hugged her goodbye. But Kate wasn't there.

So yes, he'd survived. He'd left that world behind him, and made it back to reality, but – by God, it hurt. Despite the drugs that were being pumped into him to lessen it, every part of his body hurt like hell.

And however desperately Tim tried to hold it back, his body just didn't have the strength to fight it.

Tears were sliding down his face again, just as they'd done then. Again, they were brushed gently away. And a voice which held nothing but understanding now softly told Tim McGee what he already knew.

"She's gone, Tim. All of it's gone, you're back in this world now. It's okay, Tim. It's okay."

It wasn't, of course. Even without the stricken eyes that now stared up at him, Gibbs knew it wasn't okay.

He'd been through this nightmare himself, and he knew exactly what Tim McGee was feeling right now. The joy of being alive was crashing painfully against the carefree sanctuary that he'd left behind.

Everything he'd just been through – Benedict's death, the toll it had taken on him, and now this shooting – was finally proving too much for Tim McGee to take. And Gibbs knew that trying to ignore it, keeping all that pain and bitterness inside, was the worst thing the kid could do.

He'd made that mistake when Shannon and Kelly had died, and it had left one hell of a legacy. And he'd be damned if he was going to let this quiet, gentle kid be consumed by the same destructive anger, and grow bitterly old before his time

So Gibbs rose from his chair now, and re-seated himself, very carefully, at McGee's right shoulder – sliding a fatherly arm around him, offering what comfort he could, as Tim fell helplessly apart against him.

"That's it, Tim, let it all out now. That's it, Tim, it's gonna be okay now. I've got you, Tim, it's gonna be okay. You're going to be alright."

Even as he silently railed at what McGee was going through, Jethro Gibbs quietly welcomed its blessing. Once he'd cried himself empty, the boy would slide back into merciful sleep, regain his strength in its sanctuary.

Then he'd finally start to heal.