Chapter 10

He waited until full dark before leaving the hotel. This next step needed darkness. Tim was fairly certain that he'd never see Gwen in daylight...and actually, he probably wouldn't see the mysterious police officer either unless he waited until the cover of night.

Tim still felt very tired. He had been sitting, almost in a daze, staring at the setting sun from his window, waiting for it to disappear below the horizon. Even then, he waited until the last evidence of the sun was gone before standing and getting ready to go. If he didn't find anything there, he really didn't know what else he could do. How could he return to NCIS and work in conditions that would be even more intolerable?

He couldn't bear the thought and instead, got up and walked out of the room. He didn't look around at all as he left and walked to his car. There was no chance that he'd see anyone he knew. He'd picked a hotel south of Athens on purpose.

So he got into his car and drove out of the parking lot.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs probably would have missed him completely, except that he'd overslept and was storming out of the room, intent on making a complaint about malfunctioning alarm clocks, nevermind the greater likelihood that he'd simply screwed it up himself...and slept a whole lot longer than he'd expected. He glanced over his shoulder when he heard the car squeal out of the parking lot.

It was a Porsche.

"McGee?" There was no point in asking...even if Tim could have heard him. He'd know that Porsche anywhere...just like he'd know Abby's car or Ziva's or Tony's...even Jimmy's...Ducky's would stand out anywhere. He took it upon himself to know what his people drove...for moments like this, he supposed.

Alarm clock forgotten, he ran to his car, knowing that he wouldn't have a chance to figure out where Tim was going next. He only knew that Tim had let his ghost out of his car and she'd disappeared. He didn't know for certain where he'd done that.

Already, Tim was speeding away and Gibbs saw his chance to catch up fading away.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim knew exactly where he wanted to go. He could see it in his mind's eye...almost more clearly than he could see the road in front of him. How he got to the empty stretch of road with no accident, he'd never know. All his attention was focused on his destination, not the path to it.

When he reached the area, he pulled over and got out of his car, only barely remembering to close the door behind him. He went down the slight slope and ran into the trees.

The statue, at least, was still there, looking just like Gwen. It seemed strange to him, even now, that if no one knew who she was, there was a statue built for her. Why? Who had done it? When?

"Gwen, please," he said aloud, speaking to the unfeeling marble. "Please, I can't deal with this. I need to know...why me? Why did you tell me? How can I prove it to anyone? Help me, Gwen."

There was only silence in the small clearing. Nothing to indicate life or spiritual presence. Just a slight breeze.

"Why did you pick me?" he shouted. "Why not someone else? Why was it me who had to deal with this? I've done everything I can! I've done what I can...and it's not enough! Someone still died!" The statue blurred in Tim's vision. "He died! ...and no one believes me! Gwen...this is ruining my life! Why can't you at least tell me what happened to...to you? Why can't you give me some way of showing that this really happened? Why?"

The statue remained marble. Hard...cold...dead.

Tim felt helpless fury build up inside him. No one cared. No one trusted him. He was totally alone.

"What kind of a person were you? How could you show up and then disappear without caring? Why?"

The wind began to pick up and the trees rattled against each other in the clearing.

"Why?" he shouted louder. "You wanted to help me before! Why not now?"

It seemed as though there was a gale blowing through.

"Were you there?" Tim was nearly screaming, so loud was the wind now. "Were you there and let him die? Did you kill him yourself?"

There was an answer, a long, low moan, almost indistinguishable from the moaning of the wind.

Noooo...

That wasn't enough.

"Then, you tell me what happened! Or make me forget! I can't tolerate this! I can't live like this! I can't live with being considered an idiot and a liar!"

A gust of wind blew him backward, almost knocking him off his feet.

"Tell me!" he screamed at the statue.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs lost Tim. He was simply going too fast, but Gibbs drove back and forth, knowing that it must have been in a relatively isolated area; otherwise, there would have been ample evidence of whatever Tim had seen.

Finally, on a whim, he took a road heading north...and was suddenly caught in a huge gale. It had come out of nowhere, but he saw Tim's car parked along the side of the road and he parked behind it. It actually took two tries to get his car door open, so fiercely was the wind blowing. As he fought against the wind, he thought he could hear someone screaming.

"McGee!" he shouted, but the wind tore his call away. He bent over, almost double to walk against the wind.

The screaming got louder and as he walked through the trees, he could have sworn he saw a glow coming from straight ahead of him.

"McGee!"

"Tell me!"

That was Tim's voice, no question, only so filled with anger and pain that Gibbs wondered what was going on in there. ...and where had the wind come from? As he forced himself forward, he looked up in time to see a brilliant flash of white light and broke into the clearing in time to see Tim flung backward about ten feet where he lay, unmoving.

It was like a small bomb had gone off...only without the fire...and Gibbs felt no heat, no shock wave. Only Tim seemed to have been affected. The gale contracted and swirled around the statue. Tim groaned and Gibbs ran to him.

Tim put a hand to his head and opened his eyes. He saw Gibbs and looked both annoyed and worried.

"What are you doing here, Boss?"

"Looking for you. How are you feeling?"

Tim started to sit up but then sank back down. "I think I'll just stay here for a while. You can go."

"Go? I don't think so."

"Why not, Boss?" Tim winced and rubbed at his temples. "Cut off the detritus. It's easier that way, isn't it? Get rid of the crazy guy on the team."

"I don't think you're crazy, McGee."

Tim looked up at him. "Then, what do you think, Boss?"

Gibbs looked up at the wind...which was still strangely blowing around the statue but nowhere else.

"I don't know what to think right about now."

Tim looked at Gibbs again and then pushed himself up and stared at the scene before them both. A snapping twig alerted them both to someone else...

Tim sighed. "I know you're there. Come out."

To Gibbs' surprise, a man stepped into the clearing.

"You," he said.

"Who are you really?" Tim asked. "And don't tell me you're a police officer. I know you're not. I checked."

The man looked over at the wind. "What did you do?"

"Who are you?" Tim asked again. He began to push himself to his feet, and when Gibbs tried to help or hinder, he shook him off.

"What have you done to Gwen?"

"Who is Gwen to you?" Tim asked, more surprised than he showed.

"She was my sister."

"What?"

"She was my sister. I made that statue for her...before she died...but after our dad kicked her out of the house."

"Why did you say that no one knew where it came from?"

"Because no one does...except me."

"Who are you?"

"I'm no police officer, as you already guessed. Actually the uniform I was wearing wasn't much of a uniform...but the people who are led here generally aren't in any state to notice. What have you done?"

"I demanded answers," Tim said. "Why dress up?"

"People trust the police. They'll listen where if I had simply been there to help, it would have looked suspicious. I was only there to see if I could talk to my sister, find out where she was when she died...who buried her." He took a few steps toward the statue. "I only wanted my sister back...but there's too much ground to cover and I have a life to live myself...even if she doesn't anymore."

"She was killed in Maryland. She's buried near Baltimore in an unidentified grave because no one ever claimed her body."

"She was murdered?"

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"I don't know. I can only guess."

"What happened to her?" The man turned from the statue and walked to Tim, grabbing him by the shoulders. "What happened to my sister?"

"Hey!" Gibbs grabbed the man's arm.

"I think she was killed by the same men who murdered a gas station owner 26 years ago."

Gibbs blinked, looking about as surprised as this man did. Tim hadn't even intimated that he had the slightest idea. As much as he felt he wasn't trusted by the team, it looked like it was reciprocated. Why give any details of something no one believes?

"How?"

"She was stabbed to death. I found the autopsy report...or rather a friend of mine did. That's why no one ever linked the two events. The man in the gas station was shot. ...and neither of them were important enough for people to care."

The man turned away. "Oh, Gwen. I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't you ever look?"

"I didn't have the slightest idea where to start. I made that statue, always hoping that she'd come back...but at the same time, I hoped that she was happy where she was, away from Dad who never understood her, away from a life she wasn't ready to lead. Gwen was different, it's true. She was obsessed with trying to get...other places. She had no control over her emotions. Everything was felt so keenly...and it took a long time for hurts to heal. I was the only one who could handle her, even though I was more than ten years older." There was a hint of tears in his voice.

The wind suddenly died, sucked away into nothingness...and it was suddenly very quiet in the little clearing.

"I saw her twenty years ago. I saw her with a man in a car. She got out...and disappeared. Into thin air. The man freaked out. He...ran into the clearing and found the statue I'd made. I probably didn't help matters. He saw me and scampered...and just for a moment when I turned around, the statue was glowing. I knew, then, that she was dead. How long that had been happening before, I didn't know. I caught glimpses, but I never was able to speak to her. I tried."

"She wasn't happy," Tim said. "She was sad...and afraid...and alone. She had no one..."

Gibbs heard the tone and guessed that Tim was talking about more than Gwen.

"...and then she dumped all that on me and ruined my life...like she ruined her own and I want to know why!" Tim stormed past the man to the statue. "Tell me why you did this to me!" he shouted at the marble. "Isn't it enough that you were miserable? Did you have to do it to me, too?"

Abruptly, the wind surged again, twisting in on itself, forcing Tim backwards...and then it stopped again and there was a woman, all in white, semi-translucent, crouched on the ground. Gibbs could faintly see the grass through her hands. She looked up at Tim.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Why. Why, Gwen," Tim said, angry and hurt. "I helped you. I felt sorry for you..."

"Yes...in more ways than you know." She went to her knees, raising her hands toward Tim. "Please, forgive me. I had to...I needed to...to use you to right a wrong."

"Gwen."

She looked over at her brother and shook her head. "The statue is beautiful, Gawain."

"Not as beautiful as you, Gwendolyn."

She smiled, her light gray eyes filling with tears.

Gibbs stood well back from the trio, unable to believe what he was seeing. A ghost...a talking ghost.

"What do you mean, Gwen?" Tim asked, pulling her attention back.

"I never helped him...the man in the gas station! I saw the gun...I was afraid. I ran. I left him there. ...and they killed him. Those two men...they gave me a ride. I was trying to go home." She dropped her head. "Everything in my life...it was all nothing. I had lost...lost everything. I wanted to go home, to beg for forgiveness...to beg my father to believe me, to trust me again. I was so alone. The car I had managed to buy...it broke down and I didn't want to wait; so I walked, but it was so far." The wind swirled around her and her image wavered before stabilizing again. "They picked me up and said I could have a ride as far as they were going."

"And you saw the holdup."

She nodded, weeping and rocking back and forth. "Yes. I saw the gun and I was afraid. So I got out and started running along the road, but no one would stop! I waved my arms, trying to get someone to stop for me, but no one would! ...until they...they caught up." She began to sob. "They killed me...but I couldn't go...because I had let someone else die."

"Gwen, that wasn't your fault."

"Yes, Wayne, it was. If I had stayed...if I had tried to help...if I had run another direction...but I didn't. All I cared about was getting away...and now, I can't. Not ever. I'm stuck here." She looked at Tim again, pleadingly. "I was so desperate to find someone who could help me break this...this trap! ...and you...you were so kind...and you were like me. I could see the road of your life just like it was my own. You were hurt, feeling alone, feeling so unsure of yourself and of who you were. We were the same that night and I could see so...so clearly what was going to happen. And I saw the man's son. He would have died. He would have tried to stop his friend...or tried to save him...and they would both have died. I knew you could stop it. I saw your sister there. The more you told me of your past, the more I could see of your future. Oh, please, forgive me for wanting to be free. Please...please, Tim, forgive me."

Tim looked back over his shoulder at Gibbs, who was surprised to see tears in Tim's eyes. Then, he looked back.

"Gwen, your brother is right. It was never your fault. It's your guilt that's keeping you here, not some forced punishment. You're right. We are the same." Tim laughed sadly. "We take responsibility on ourselves...and then fall miserably short...and we pay the price...a price self-imposed and then reinforced with every word we hear. Gwen, you can go. Anytime you wish, you can go. Between us, people were saved. That's got to count for something...even if it's only between the two of us that it counts and not with anyone else."

"You forgive me, Tim?"

"For using me to save someone? I don't need to forgive. That's my job."

"Please."

Tim reached out and cupped his warm hands around her ghostly ones.

"I forgive you, Gwen. Go. Sleep where you should, don't keep yourself here any longer."

For the first time, Gwen got to her feet. She stood straight and looked at her brother.

"Good-bye, Wayne. I love you."

"I love you, Gwen. Be at peace."

The wind began to swirl again and Gwen's hair whipped in front of her face. Tim stood back and watched as she vanished in the gale.

"Good-bye, Gwen," he said softly.

Silence descended once more and the three men were alone in the clearing.