I've been away far too long. I discovered tumblr, which was …distracting… but more so, I procrastinated… for months. Many, many apologies. I won't let that much time elapse again.
I also apologize for the confusion surrounding the last chapter. Abby did not set up the Admiral being there. She did not choose where they were going. I did not make it clear enough what I meant and I hope to rectify that in this chapter.
Thank you for continuing to read this little project of mine. Please let me know what you think of it; the good, the bad and the ugly. Reviews thrill me to no end, I practically mainline them. Please review!
Ready, set, go. There was a conversation that needed to occur. He was going to have to push through everything else, twenty plus years worth of everything elses. His father needed to be dealt with by no one but himself. He could do this. One conversation and it would determine the path. He may be taking control but whatever his father said was going to impact the rest of their interactions, possibly forever.
Who knew? Maybe there would be a breakthrough, or maybe this was a shaky path of good intentions and one flare would send it all up in smoke. Either way, this project had created a monstrous mess. He had been fine before. Who was he to attempt to reconcile anything? He wasn't a god, not of big things, not of small things and not of anything having to do with his father. Time to start hoping for the best.
The restaurant in retrospect was insignificant. The random series of events that brought himself and his father to the same venue was laughable. Karma once again. He was still wondering what he'd done in the first place but he was ready to start making sacrifices to go along with his elaborated confessions. Peaceful nights out didn't exist apparently.
Of course, he would rather his friends not be present for any interaction with the Admiral but what was done was done. He had moved beyond it. Well, he had moved on after he had interrogated Abby as to every word his father had said post his discovery. He'd never been more thankful for lip-reading. Inquiring minds.
It was just one more situation that would give him leverage for the why-are-you-here section if he ever ended up institutionalized for finally psychologically snapping. What was he going to say?
There had to be a set itinerary or Mcgee knew that he would get lost in his own thoughts and his words become convoluted. That would help nothing. There should be a script. Unfortunately, the elder wouldn't be working off the same preparations. No script. Flying solo then.
As time had insisted on progressing, things had kept him occupied, away from his constant mental struggle concerning what he should do. He had been both writing and dodging his editor's calls. Furthermore, he was trying, unsuccessfully, to see if he could keep Abby under four caf-pows a day and most of all, work had provided a decent distraction. Criminals never took a day off.
Thankfully, nobody mentioned their latest familial run in. He did not want his friends linked in any way to the past, to who he was before NCIS, before them. It still struck him on occasion, how much he had gained. How amazing it was that people fell together in such was to put them in the right spot at the right time to meet exactly the right group.
It took him time to figure out some sort of half plan he could start with. Days of turning over what he planned to say. Nothing volatile. He could face him, alone. He was no longer the child living in fear of the criticisms of his father. Too much had changed. He now realized that he couldn't go back to being who he was before, no matter what the Admiral said or did.
His life was totally different and his father had yet to figure that out. He was his own person. Mcgee had made himself into the person he was, despite everything that had been said and done. In some ways, he had raised himself, decided who he wanted to be and succeeded. No Admiral could take that away from him.
This would all have to be done soon, before he lost his nerve, or talked himself out of truly initiating conversation. They couldn't keep living in the middle of the road. Somehow, his massive amounts of thinking led to the determination that he should approach his father away from others.
The best place to ensure that he would be alone was his parent's house. He knew his mother was off with Sarah for the weekend and his father would be alone. Whatever was going to happen had to be done without outside influences. It was always going to come down to Tim and his father.
His car was fast but it didn't even seem to take near the amount of time it should have to drive across the city. Mcgee had told Abby that he had something to do. Luckily, she was busy and only half paying attention to him. Thus, she didn't question. He must do this himself.
Such a short, yet seemingly long, amount of time had passed since his dinner at their house. This time there was no procrastination as he exited the Porsche and found himself knocking on his parent's door. They still needed that sign.
Obviously Mcgee was just about the last person the Admiral would expect to be on his doorstep. Turning the tables, his apartment had been invaded he could return the favor. His father backed away from the open door, allowing him to enter.
Too soon, they were resettled in his father's study keeping up a decent staring contest standoff. He had come, he should speak. Questions received answers. "Why did you come to my apartment?"
"You do not live there anymore." Nice deflection Admiral, really. Nice to see he was keeping up the stalking of his son as well. However, it wasn't allowed, his father did not get to lie or omit or deflect or anything else. Games were over. His father had been the one who broached the silence first.
"I know." He could wait. Working with Gibbs had given him the perfect example of how to wait as long as it took. The Admiral must have deduced that he was serious because he deigned to answer.
"I told you while I was there. If you are reacting to my dinner the other night, please remind yourself that I was working." He was always working. Especially when he didn't want to do something else. It's possible to work through a childhood when you aren't interested in it.
"I've got to hand it to you, apparently you never even lost your train of thought." He was provoking the wild animal. You weren't supposed to attempt such things. Scouts taught you that. "You have no idea what I was talking about or my business matters." True, yet maybe if he wasn't kept eternally outside of everything, he'd have some knowledge of his father. "Abby reads lips."
The Admiral looked dumbfounded for a split second, as if he wasn't sure how to process this new information. Before he could offer his rebuttal Mcgee continued. "It doesn't matter. I don't care what you do in public, I really don't. What happens in private is more concerning. You've always cared more about what other people thought." His father wasn't happy. Line crossed.
"This is not how a son is meant to behave." Mcgee started looking for escape routes right then and there. There was no option to be found, his back was to the wall and he could not slip around. There was nobody else to take the center of attention away. He found himself trapped with no option but to submit to listening to the oncoming diatribe. "You do not come into my home and create such disruptions because you are angry."
Enough. He wanted to keep his calm. If nothing else, he knew how to control his emotions. The only thing stronger than emotions was what made you hold them in. Mcgee knew that he had whatever that mystery ingredient was.
However, apparently fate was fickle and tonight was the night that it wasn't going to be acted on. He was now sure that he knew these interactions were making him unhappy, complicating his life and not moving forward. It had become too much. They were holding him so that he could not move forward.
Maybe he unconsciously knew that he couldn't take anymore, he was at a breaking point. Holding it in was over and done. Holding this temporary pass out for himself, he grabbed the opportunity and the walls came tumbling down. The Admiral had finally broken down a part of his son, just not the part he thought was going to be altered.
Mcgee remembered how easy it was to be done. How many years it really hadn't been a problem. He was okay and he was finally finished. This domination of his life was over. He had been so much happier while he'd been by himself and with the team. It didn't have to be like this. He could stop the nonsense.
He could appear calmer than he was. They had taught him that. He should thank the Admiral. If there was one thing Mcgee knew how to do it was to keep his mouth shut. Unless he didn't want to. And tonight, he didn't . "You're right. I am angry, but not for what you think. Why is nothing I do right? Not ever, If I did it, thought it, said it, it was wrong. Always, still is."
"I've never said that." Apparently, his father was now suffering from some sort of memory loss. He should have carried around a tape recorder when he was younger. Proof was in the evidence after all.
"Maybe not the exact words, but if nothing else, you have acted it. I figured out how to read between the lines a long time ago. I think I understood dismissive before I knew it could be any other way. Why was it okay? All that time? I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted in a son. I'm sorry you didn't get your legacy. But when I was a kid, the only thing I ever wanted to be was enough for you. What did I ever do? Why was I not worth your time and effort. Why was I not enough?"
There hadn't been many conversations with actual exchange of dialogue in the past. Mcgee knew that he shouldn't have thought that barging in would be a catalyst for honest responses yet he had expected at least a lecture. The Admiral hadn't moved from behind his desk. His reactions kept within himself, he did not take up against his son.
No tirade followed Mcgee's comments. The Admiral said nothing as the clock ticked on. Mcgee pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the door. He had left last time, he could do it again. "It wasn't okay then. It isn't okay now. And I am done being not enough."
Mcgee vaguely realized that he had made it outside and to his car. If he'd been asked, he couldn't identify his own emotions. Everything was a cyclone mass of jumbled thoughts. Without thinking about what he was doing, he managed to make it back to his apartment. Standing outside the door, he paused.
He had acted. Now, he had to go and confess what he had done. Telling would make it real. What if he was wrong? No, he couldn't think like that. But he couldn't stop either. He pushed open the door, still the whirling mass of confusion working in his head. It only took seconds for him to manage to call her name. Even less time was required for Abby to enter the room, take one look at him and wrap him in a hug.