Chapter 10
Five people dead, another one threatened, and Tim found himself just sitting there, wondering what in the world he could do to stop it all from happening. The five victims were staring back at him from his computer monitor. Another victim in the offing, and still no ideas of who was to blame or why.
Five people dead from what scares me. He's going to keep doing this until he finishes my fears. But where will that end be? How many times can he imagine something I'm scared of and kill yet another person? How many more people will he kill before he's done?
He didn't know where anyone else was at the moment. And quite frankly, he didn't care. What he cared about was the fact that people kept dying and he couldn't seem to do anything about it. He just wanted this to stop.
And then, suddenly, the solution came to him. It was so obvious that he couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before.
There was a way to stop the killing whether they found the Wordsmith or not. He was focused on Tim... well, what if Tim wasn't there to focus on? It wouldn't do him any good to ask the question if Tim wasn't there to answer.
He wrote a very short message on a sticky note and left it on his desk.
Then, he walked out of the building.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tony grimaced. If they found this guy, he would be fine with just killing him and saving everyone a lot of grief, just like with Ahrendson. In fact, he would be just fine with death by firing squad...before a trial. He walked into the bullpen and stopped.
Tim wasn't at his desk. His bag was gone.
For some reason, Tony felt like something was very wrong.
"Hey, Jensen, do you know where Tim is?"
Jensen looked up from his desk.
"No. He was at his computer about ten minutes ago. I saw him."
"Not there now."
"I don't know."
Tony walked over to Tim's desk and saw a note. He grabbed it and then started looking around the room.
It's all my fault.
That was it.
He moved the mouse and turned back on the screen.
Tim had been looking at the victims. Again.
And Tim had been really quiet. Again.
Hadn't said a word to anyone. Again.
The last time this had happened, Tim had gone to a bar. Somehow, Tony didn't think it was going to be so simple this time.
Then, his phone at his desk started to ring. He ran over and answered it.
"Agent DiNozzo."
"Agent DiNozzo, this is Grace Lamb, the NCIS Public Affairs Officer."
"Yeah? What? I haven't done anything embarrassing lately," Tony said, but his heart wasn't really in the banter.
"I got an email which has been addressed to you. I'll forward it to you with all the header information and I'll keep it until you tell me I don't need to, but given the case you've been working on the last few weeks, it might be important and I wanted to make sure you knew about it right away."
"Oh. Thanks." He leaned over his computer and saw that he did, indeed, have an email from the PAO email address. "Got it."
"Okay. That's all."
"Thanks."
Tony hung up and opened the email.
The message was short.
There's only one true victim, Agent DiNozzo. What scares you?
Tony stared at the short message for far too long before it suddenly clicked in his head and he knew exactly what was going on, and he knew exactly what he was most afraid of at the moment.
"Jensen! Torrance!" Balboa wasn't there at the moment, but Tony didn't care if he was usurping another team. This was way more important.
"Yeah? What is it?" Jensen asked.
"I need one of you to start calling Tim's phone. If he answers, get him to tell you where he is. I don't think he'll answer, and so I need the other of you to go and get Abby and have her trace his phone."
"What's going on?" Torrance asked.
"I just got a message and it says there's only one victim. And Tim is gone."
Torrance paled. "You think that... that he's got Tim?"
"No. I think it's worse than that," Tony said grimly. "Tim left on his own."
Jensen got it first and quickly pulled out his phone. He dialed Tim's number and brought his phone up to his ear.
"No answer," he said after a few seconds.
"Keep calling back. Torrance?"
"On it. What about you?"
"I'm going to go out and find him. Gibbs is in a meeting with Vance and Fornell. When they come out, tell them," Tony said.
Then, he ran out of the building and to his car, noticing that Tim's car was also missing. No, he didn't think that the Wordsmith had taken Tim somewhere. He thought that Tim was alone.
Alone and feeling responsible for five murders.
All the fears had been Tim's fears.
Every victim had been killed under the guise of Tim's fears. But every message was about Tim.
And if there was only one true victim...
The thoughts ran rampant through Tony's head, and he didn't know why he was so sure, but he was.
His phone rang as he was driving.
"Tony, Abby says that Tim's phone is at his apartment and she's been screeching at me to tell her what's going on. What do I say?"
"Tell her that I hope it's nothing."
"But you know it's not?"
"Yeah, pretty much. Thanks."
Tony had already been kind of heading toward Silver Spring, almost out of habit, so he was glad to know that he was almost there. He drove as fast as he could over to Tim's building. Then, he got out of the car and hurried up to Tim's apartment. The door was closed. The police tape was still there but twisted up.
He tried the door.
The knob turned.
He went inside.
"Tim?"
No answer.
He couldn't see Tim out in the main room. There was only one other place he could be.
Tony walked back to the bedroom.
"Tim?"
There he was.
Tim was sitting on his bed with his eyes tightly closed.
He was holding his gun in his hands.
And he was pointing it at his face.
"Tim, don't do it," Tony said.
Tim opened his eyes but didn't look at him, and he gave the worst parody of a laugh Tony had ever heard.
"Why do you always show up when I really don't want you to?"
"Because you really do, even if it's deep down. You want me here."
"Go away, Tony. Just leave."
"No. I'm not going to do that, and you know that I won't do that," Tony said, his heart in his throat. "Put the gun down, Tim."
"No. No, this will stop it, Tony. If he can't focus on me, then, he won't keep killing."
"No, Tim. Then, he'll just move on to someone else," Tony said. "Put the gun down."
"No. It came to me today. How selfish am I to keep living when people are dying because of me? When one more death could stop it all?"
Tim was still staring toward the floor. ...toward his gun which was still pointed directly at his face. Tony took another step into the room, but he was cautious. He didn't want to make Tim do anything drastic because he thought that Tony was going to stop him.
The worst thing was that Tony could see that same quietness in Tim that he'd had when he'd got drunk. There was no yelling, not crying. Nothing. It was quiet. Everything was too overwhelming, too much to deal with and so he'd withdrawn until he'd come up with a solution. Before, the solution had been to get drunk and he had snuck out and done it, trying to deal with it alone. Now, he'd come up with another solution, and he'd gone to do it without asking for anyone's input. It was all about what he had decided. Alone.
"One more death won't stop it, Tim. What's been happening is not your fault. What's been happening is that a psycho is killing people. It's not you."
"Yes, it is me," Tim said, finally showing a little bit of emotion. The gun started to shake in his hands. "Stop saying it's not me. It is. I know it. You know it. It's me. It's me. It's me, okay? It's me!"
"No. It's not your fault. It's not, Tim. No matter how much you might feel it is right now, it's not. It doesn't matter how many notes he leaves for you. It doesn't matter how many people he kills. It's not your fault. It's his. Not yours."
The standoff lingered for a few silent minutes. Tim still wouldn't look at Tony. He was still pointing his gun at his own head, and Tony didn't dare run at him and grab the gun for fear that it would go off whether Tim really wanted it to or not.
"I'm such a coward," Tim said. "I know what would fix things and I can't do it. I'm sitting here, trying to eat a bullet, but I can't pull the trigger."
"That's because you know it's wrong, Tim."
"No. That's not it."
Tony forced himself to smile. "Yes, it is. And the reason I know that is because you're way too smart not to know that."
Another silent minute, but the gun was shaking a little.
"It needs to stop, Tony. It needs to be over. If I'm dead, it'll be over for me, no matter what else."
"No, Tim. We need you to be here."
"No, you don't. You don't need me. I haven't done anything worthwhile in weeks. I'm dead weight."
"No, you're not. You've done what you could."
"And it's not enough. Nothing is enough. Nothing is going to stop him. Except this."
"No, Tim. What will stop him is us finding him. And we will."
"No. Just leave, Tony."
"No way. I'm going to stand right here and watch. So, guess what, Tim. If you decide to go through with it, you'll have to die knowing that you made it harder for me. Do you want me to feel like you're feeling?"
"That's a low blow."
"So is what you're doing. You're too strong to take this way out, Tim," Tony said. "You've fought back too many times to have this be what you choose."
The gun started shaking more, but Tim said nothing for another minute or two. Then, suddenly, he dropped his head and covered it with both hands as he leaned over, almost bent in half, and he started to sob. The gun was still clenched in his hand, but he wasn't pointing it at himself for the moment.
"I-I just w-w-want the killing to stop," Tim wept. "I'd do...anything to make it s-stop."
"Tim, I'm going to sit down by you, okay?" Tony said.
Tim didn't answer, so Tony took that as a yes.
Carefully, he sat down beside Tim on the bed.
"I d-don't want anyone else... to d-die because of... of me," Tim said through his tears. "I want this to... to be... over. I can't... can't... I can't take this... Tony. I can't."
Tim was almost hyperventilating. The danger was not over yet. Tim could still let his near-hysteria drive him to shoot himself.
"Tim, let me take the gun, okay?"
"No! I don't..." Tim couldn't even finish the sentence.
"Just let me take the gun, Tim. Then, we can talk about it some more," Tony said, trying to keep calm. "Come on, Tim. Let me have the gun."
"We don't... know who he is, Tony," Tim said, between gasps for breath. "We don't... don't even know... what... he looks... like. We c-c-can't stop him. But... if I'm dead..."
"Then, you'll just be dead, Tim. That won't stop him," Tony said. "Don't give him another victim."
Tim was still sobbing, and Tony wasn't sure if Tim had even heard him that time. He didn't dare grab the gun even now because it might go off accidentally. He could see that the safety was off.
"Tim, let me have the gun. Just let go of it," he said again.
"My... fear... Tony," Tim said. "It's all my fault."
"It's not your fault, Tim. That's what everyone keeps telling you. It's not your fault."
Tim was still sobbing with his hands over his head, gun clenched tightly in one hand. Tony took a chance and put a hand on Tim's back, some physical contact to hopefully break through the panic and terror that had led Tim to this point.
"Tim, listen to me. Really listen to me. You do not have to die to stop this from happening again. In fact, the best thing you can do is live because this is what that psycho wants. He wants you to die. Don't let him win."
It was so tempting to just grab the gun so that the standoff would be over, but Tony knew that Tim was still unstable enough that he could still fire and Tony had no intention of becoming a victim himself or of watching Tim kill himself.
Still, with one hand on Tim's back Tony leaned forward and put his other hand in front of Tim so he could see it.
"Give me the gun, Tim," he said, yet again.
A long pause, and then, finally, Tim lowered the gun and put it in Tony's hand. Tony quickly put the safety back on, unloaded it and then set it out of reach. And then, he pulled Tim up into a more erect position and put his arm around Tim's shoulders.
Tim just slumped over onto him.
"I just can't...deal with it, Tony," he said, the tears ebbing slightly. "I'm a failure. I'm not an agent. I'm incompetent. I can't do this."
"It's okay, Tim. It's okay. Now, it's okay," Tony said, letting out a long slow exhalation, relieved that this had worked.
Still with one arm around Tim, he pulled out his phone and called Gibbs.
"You found him?"
"Yeah," Tony said.
"Were you right?"
"Yeah."
"In time?"
"Yeah."
"What do you need?"
"Ducky."
"On our way."
"Tell Jensen and Torrance, okay?"
"Will do."
"Thanks."
"And Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"Good job."
For just a moment, Tony felt his own throat tighten up, but he swallowed that.
"Thanks."
He hung up and put his phone away. Then, he turned his attention back to Tim. Part of him was furious that Tim would try this. Another part was angry at himself that he hadn't realized that this was how Tim always was when things got bad. He kept it to himself, tried not to show how bad it was and then it erupted all at once when he couldn't hold it back anymore. It was just that this one had been so bad that the eruption could have been fatal.
"Tim, you'll get through this. You will."
Tim shook his head but didn't speak. The initial breakdown was over and he was gradually beginning to calm, but he clearly hadn't changed his mind.
"Yes, you will because I'm not going to let you give up. I don't care what it takes. I don't care how long. You're not giving up. Got it?"
Tim sat there without answering, and Tony didn't bother saying anything else. He had no idea what else to say, but he also had no intention of leaving Tim alone even for a second and so they just sat there in silence until Ducky and Gibbs arrived. Tony heard them come in and he called out.
"Back here!"
In a moment, Ducky was there sitting down on the other side of Tim, and Tony was relieved to have someone else there who could help.
"Anthony, I've already called a friend of mine and he's ready to admit Timothy on suicide watch for the next day or two. Timothy, is that all right?"
"It won't make any difference," Tim whispered. "It doesn't change reality."
"No, it doesn't," Ducky said, looking at Tony over Tim's head. "But it helps you see what reality truly is. You may not realize it, Timothy, but what you see now is not reality. Will you come with me?"
Tim just nodded, although Tony could see that he had no hope of it helping.
"Good."
Ducky urged Tim to stand, and it was almost a surprise to realize that Tim could stand, that the damage wasn't physical. Tim seemed so lifeless, so weak and defeated that the fact that he could stand and walk under his own power seemed wrong.
Nevertheless, he stood and walked with Ducky out into the main room where Gibbs was waiting.
"Jethro, could you drive us to the hospital?"
"Yeah, Duck. Give us a minute, okay?"
"Of course. We'll be outside."
Gibbs just nodded and skewered Tony with a look that said he needed to stay behind. As soon as Ducky and Tim were gone, Tony sank down onto a stool and dropped his head to the countertop. Then, he let out his breath in a whoosh.
"I wasn't sure I'd be able to talk him down, Boss," Tony said in a soft voice. "You get the training, but I've never had to put it into practice before...not with someone I knew. How did I miss this? I was watching him. I didn't think he was okay, but I didn't even consider suicide as a possibility. Tim wouldn't do that, but he was going to. I thought, at worst, he might go and drink too much again. Like before. How did I miss it?"
He heard Gibbs pull out a stool and sit down beside him. Then, in much the same way as Tony had done to Tim, Gibbs put his hand on Tony's back.
"I missed it, too. I missed more than you."
"If I ever am in the same room with this Wordsmith... I'm going to kill him for what he did to Tim. All this time, the people he killed...and it was just so that he could get to Tim, so that he could manipulate him enough get him to kill himself." Tony swore feelingly.
"You did good, Tony. You stopped him. Focus on that."
"But I didn't change his mind. I just got him to stop for now."
"If you hadn't done that, he wouldn't have a chance to change his mind later."
Tony forced himself to sit up. He tried to smile.
"Well, I'm not the one needing the hospital, Boss. I'm fine."
"No, you're not," Gibbs said, bluntly. "You're not fine any more than McGee is fine. Take your car. Meet us there. Then, stay with me or Ducky tonight."
Tony wanted to reject the offer. He wanted to say that Gibbs was reading too much into it. He wanted to say that there was way too much to do in finding the Wordsmith to worry about whether or not Tony was fine.
He wanted to, but he couldn't because it was all a lie. He was glad to have someone make the offer and he knew he'd be stupid to reject it. And with Tim in the state he was, Tony knew that it would only make things worse if he didn't take care of himself.
"Okay."
"Good. Let's go."
They left Tim's apartment. Ducky got Tim checked into the hospital in the psychiatric wing. Then, Tony went to Gibbs' place and bedded down for the night, relieved to know that Tim was still alive, that at least, the Wordsmith hadn't managed to claim a sixth victim.
Yet.