Chapter 11

Without the wind...and without Gwen, it was difficult to figure out what to say. These three men had been thrown together by fate it seemed...but now, Fate had taken off leaving them to figure it out on their own. Tim stared at the statue for a long time...and without looking away, asked one of the questions he had in his head. The questions he asked Gwen's brother would put off having to confront Gibbs...a prospect he found exhausting even to think about, let alone actually do.

"Gawain?"

He was rewarded with a soft chuckle. "I'm Wayne to most people. I have a sister named Elaine and a brother named Lancelot. My parents had King Arthur on the brain when it came to their children...although Gwendolyn was a queen of Britain who defeated her own husband in battle to take the throne. Gwen always was the odd one out in our family...to her detriment in a family that expected conformity."

"Why here?"

"The statue, you mean?" Wayne asked.

Tim nodded, still only looking at the statue.

Wayne sighed. "Gwen was different...and to my father that meant wrong. I don't think she would have turned out so...so different if he had just let her grow the way she wanted to." Wayne walked over and cleaned off some of the moss. "But no, not Dad. He had a plan for his children and they had to toe the line. It didn't go that far if we stuck inside the boundaries he'd erected. ...but for Gwen...she was wild...and could have been carefree given the chance...which she wasn't. She was sixteen when she finally started trying to assert herself. I was gone by then, had taken the chance to escape and investigate other avenues...like sculpture."

"So why here?" Tim asked again.

"Because this was the place Gwen felt safe. Oh, Dad never hit any of us, but when he would yell, we almost wished he would...it would have taken less time, would have hurt less. Mom had long since accepted whatever Dad said whether she agreed with it or not. Gwen would come here after Dad told her she was a freak, when she would get in trouble for not being like everyone else at school, she'd come here. She said it was a passageway to somewhere else, that it was a special place. In here, we were always Gwendolyn and Gawain. I knew where to come to find her; no one else did. She fought back for the last two years of high school and then, they had a huge fight. Gwen called me only once to tell me that she was starting over somewhere else, that she would find the magic in another place...and that she would call me when she was happy."

"But she never called, did she," Tim said, still staring at the statue. He was painfully aware of Gibbs standing silently behind him, but he said nothing.

"No. No, she never did." It seemed as though Wayne had never had the chance to talk about these things to anyone...and now he was pouring out all the hurt, the worry, the anger all in front of these two strangers. "I moved back to Athens a couple of years later. Dad'd had a stroke and Mom couldn't do anything on her own. Dad had done everything, made all the decisions. She was helpless without him. I started making this statue as a way of trying to call Gwen back...and at the same time wishing her happiness wherever she was. I put it up here in her refuge because I knew Dad would never see it, never find it...and that Dad couldn't ruin it. Gwen would always be safe here." He laughed ironically. "Dad died before it was finished. After I finished it, I left it here, thinking that when Gwen finally called me, I could tell her about it and she'd come back. It was probably selfish of me, but I really missed my baby sister. I got married, had a family...but not knowing where Gwen was, it cast a shadow over my life. I felt like, for a while at least, that I should have done more for her. In the end, my wife convinced me that Gwen would come when she was ready and I didn't have the right to try and force her. I lived my life...until that night...when I knew she was dead. It tore my heart out to realize it...and to know that there was nothing I could do."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I need to figure out some way to prove that...that woman they found murdered is my sister. I don't know how I'm going to do that, especially after all this time." He suddenly looked very old and Tim felt in his pocket.

"I know what you can do," Tim said slowly. "I have the place where she's buried written down. I have the articles from the newspaper when they found her. I have all the information. What you can do is take all that, and yourself and request to have her remains tested. In fact..." Tim bent over and wrote Ducky's name and phone number on the paper. "...you can call the M.E. at the place where I work and he can help you get through all the red tape. ...and you can bring her home."

"Why would you do all this?" For the first time, Wayne met Tim's eyes. "Why? How could you care so much about what happens to her when you haven't really known her?"

Tim smiled a little. "I know her. I..." He couldn't reveal all the pain he had shown to Gwen. Some things could only be shared between fellow sufferers. "I know her...and I want her to be safe and happy." He held out the papers. "Please. Take them."

Wayne took the pages and stared down at the means for finding his sister's body. Then, he looked at Tim once more, took two steps forward and hugged Tim tightly.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea..."

"You're welcome." That was all Tim could say. This man didn't need to know all the hurt, all the shame...how much of his life had been fractured by Gwen's choices.

"I don't know how I'll explain to Janet...but...but I'll think of something. She'd never believe me if I told her that I got it from someone who had seen Gwen's ghost. She's too practical for things like that." Wayne smiled a little tolerantly for his wife, not knowing how pointed his remarks were...but he did seem to remember his duties. "Hey, it's pretty late. You two need a place to stay tonight?"

Tim shook his head, knowing that any longer spent with this man would only make him feel worse.

"We're both in a hotel already. Thank you, though."

"I wish I could thank you as you deserve...but there's nothing I could do that would be enough."

"Just bring her home. That's enough."

Wayne nodded, and with a small gesture, waved good-bye and left the clearing. Tim stood for a few moments longer, staring at Gwen's statue and trying not to feel anything that might transfer to her. Whatever he felt about Gwen deep down, he didn't want her to suffer anymore for something that wasn't her fault.

"Good-bye, Gwen," he said as he had a few minutes before and then, he turned obliquely and walked away, not looking at Gibbs at all, wanting only to go back to his hotel and sleep...and maybe really sleep. He felt as though he hadn't really slept in ages. This was his chance to get away. He walked but noticed that Gibbs silently followed him.

He made it to his car, paused, looked around. They were alone. He turned.

"Don't bother saying anything, Boss. You being forced to admit that I was telling the truth isn't anywhere near enough."

"I didn't think it would be, McGee."

"Good. You're right about that much." With that, he got in his car and drove away.

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

Tim made it back to his hotel and into his room without seeing Gibbs. He was glad of that. He had no idea how Gibbs had found him in the first place, but at least he had escaped. Shucking his jacket and his shoes, he stumbled toward the bed with the typical floral-print cover. Then, he flopped down on it and tried to let his exhaustion lead him toward the sleep he craved.

...but he couldn't sleep. The events of the night were such that he just couldn't turn his brain off...and every time he remembered it, he also remembered how Gibbs had not believed him, had not trusted him until the moment when he couldn't deny it, and that made him angry which made his pulse speed up and pushed sleep even farther away.

Then, after about twenty minutes of fruitless stewing, there was a knock at the door and Tim knew who it would be. Who else could it be, really? He thought about ignoring his boss and just lying on the bed until he deigned to leave. ...but he knew that would keep him from getting any sleep at all and he was so very tired.

With a groan he rolled over and stood up. Not even bothering to check through the peephole, he swung open the door.

"What do you want now, Boss?"

"We need to talk, McGee."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

"You're not going to be sleeping anyway."

Tim really hated it when Gibbs played the omniscience card. It was irritating that he was right so often. Sighing in resignation, he let go of the door and walked back to the bed. If Gibbs wasn't quick enough to stop it from closing on its own, he didn't deserve to come in.

The door closed quietly behind him. Tim sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as Gibbs sat down on one of the chairs (on casters) and rolled it closer. To get away from the Gibbs stare, Tim let himself fall back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling without speaking.

Gibbs didn't say anything either.

They were positioned that way for what felt like a very long time. Tim couldn't take it.

"Why are you here, Boss? I told you already. It's not enough. It will never be enough."

A brief pause.

"That was really hard for you, wasn't it...what happened at the memorial."

That wasn't what Tim had been expecting to hear, not at all. He had been expecting to talk about Gwen, not about Joshua. He sat up and stared at Gibbs in surprise.

"Wasn't it," he said again.

Tim swallowed and then lay back. "Yes," he said shortly, determined to say nothing else.

"You had to watch a man die. That's never easy, especially when you wanted to save him."

Tim felt a knot growing in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn't give in to that now, not when it would mean that Gibbs would see him break down in any way. Not now.

"Look, don't try and pretend that you're all understanding now, Boss. It's not going to work."

"I should have been paying more attention."

"You mean you should have been paying attention to the right things."

"Yes. You want to talk about it now?"

"No."

"Why not?"

That pulled Tim back upright. "What do you mean?"

"I've made quite a few mistakes over the past couple of days. Most of them dealing with you. I would have thought that you'd like to take advantage of the fact that you can yell at me with impunity."

While Tim would like nothing more, he had a hard time believing that he could vent his spleen on Gibbs without fear of any reprisals.

"I promise. Say what you like. It will have no bearing on your continued employment at NCIS...unless you want it to, of course."

Gibbs had never sounded so eminently reasonable and it was a little nerve-racking. Tim knew he'd done nothing to deserve such understanding.

"Or is it just that you really can't think of anything that I did wrong, that any of us did wrong at the memorial? I guess if that's the case, you really don't have anything to say. If it's all bound up in this stuff then..."

The words burst out of him before he could think even once, let alone twice.

"Do you honestly think that I don't know that I messed up at the memorial, Boss? Do you think that I'm not aware of how you guys acted? Do you think it didn't hurt to be treated like I was personally responsible for anything that went wrong there? Do you think that I wouldn't be mad if you had believed me when I first told you why I did what I did? Do you think that...that this stuff here is all that's been bothering me?"

Gibbs didn't reply...but Tim wouldn't have noticed if he had...nor did he notice the small fleeting expression of relief that crossed Gibbs' face as Tim continued to talk.

"A man died on my watch, Boss. My watch. Not yours. Not Ziva's. Not Tony's. Mine. Whether or not I could have stopped him, whether or not I should have been able to stop him...it doesn't really matter because what happened was that I couldn't keep him from being killed...and I tried my best to stop him. Do you know how it feels to think that everything, that everyone's life is riding on your decision? Every minute down there, I was waiting for the worst to happen...but I didn't even know what the worst was. I had no idea how much worse it could get from the moment I stepped forward and stopped thinking like an agent and more like..." He couldn't face Gibbs anymore. He got up and walked around to the other side of the bed so that he could face the wall. "...like a brother, trying to protect his family."

Gibbs nodded but still didn't speak. ...and Tim continued.

"I don't even want to think about that. When I do...I can't believe that I did what I did. I can't believe that more people didn't die. I can't believe that I didn't screw up as much as you all thought I had. I just...I looked into his eyes, Boss," Tim stood and walked to the window, staring out at the dark parking lot. There were no lights on in his room either. "And all I wanted to was to help him. He was so lost. He was so alone. He wasn't angry. He wasn't murderous...even though he did kill people. It wasn't what he had meant to do. He wasn't right in the head. I know that, but he could have been. ...and I really wanted to help him. ...but in the end, I couldn't. Gwen wanted to save Woody. She felt she had to do that to justify herself...and she did whatever it took. I couldn't do that. I could have saved him, Boss. I could have saved Joshua...but I wasn't willing to make the sacrifice to do it."

Tim thought again about that moment when he'd had to decide what he was going to do...whether or not he was going to save his team. Not that it was really a decision to make. Of course he'd save the team if he could. ...if he could. That was the difficulty. He'd had no way of knowing whether or not his attempt was going to be successful. ...and to have everyone essentially make him feel like he'd failed...when he'd done pretty well... It was just another blow.

"It's like I can never be good enough to do my job right," he said, almost to himself. He'd really mostly forgotten Gibbs was even there. "I always mess up somewhere." He laughed ironically. "It took a ghost telling me what to do this time...and even that was wrong. I just can't win."

Gibbs had been listening patiently because, as he'd begun to suspect, the real problem was less about Gwen and more about things said and done surrounding Gwen's appearance...and how those things had affected Tim's own self-perception. He had heard what Tim said to Gwen and was beginning to realize how true it was. Tim was a blackbelt in beating himself up. No one could possibly punish him more than he punished himself. ...but in this case, everyone had certainly tried.

"You don't have to win," Gibbs said finally.

Tim turned from the window, almost startled to hear Gibbs' voice. He opened his mouth to speak but then changed his mind and looked back out the window.

"I mean that, McGee. This job isn't about winning and losing. It's about making the world a bit safer in our own small ways. It's not about getting awards or recognition."

Tim spun back. "I don't care about getting awards! Sure, it's nice, but it's not about that!"

"Do you think I could care less about whether or not you are seen as tops in your field by anyone outside NCIS?" Gibbs retaliated. "I don't care. That rejection meant a lot more to you than it ever could to people inside NCIS."

Tim said nothing.

"The problem with you, McGee, is that you see everything as a reflection on how well you do your job. A conference, a panel, an award...those things don't matter so long as you do your job well."

"I know that, Boss."

"Then, why do you let Tony's teasing bother you so much?"

Anger warred with frustration and shame in Tim's mind.

"Well?"

"Because..." Shame won. "...because he's so good at making me feel like a failure. I know he doesn't mean it like that...not most of the time...but...but some things just aren't... And these last couple of days, it hasn't even been about that. It really hasn't. It hasn't been about the conference or even... It's about..." Tim stopped talking again.

"What, McGee?"

"Do you guys even want me on the team?" Tim said finally.

"Of course, we do," Gibbs said, surprised at the question. Ducky had said he would start to question his place...but it hadn't crossed Gibbs' mind that Tim might think they didn't want him there.

"I just can't tell," Tim said and trudged back to the bed, sinking down onto the hard mattress and balancing his elbows on his knees. "Sometimes, I just get the feeling that...that you really don't want me there, that you wish I'd quit or that you could get rid of me. And yesterday...I was doing my best. I really was...but it wasn't good enough, and all I got from everyone was how dumb I was. I guess I figured...that you were tired of me being on the team."

"Is that what all this has been about?"

Tim shrugged. "I wanted to know why she had...if she had... but I really, really wanted to find out so that I could show you that...that I wasn't as crazy or as incompetent as you seemed to think I was. I was really trying, Boss!" He looked up. "I really was, and I wouldn't have moved forward if I hadn't seen Sarah. Honest...not unless I saw something happen, that you needed help. Honest, Boss."

"I know, McGee. Now, I know...and I'm sorry that I didn't trust you. I should have...at least trusted that you would have checked all this out for yourself. If you still believed after everything, I should have trusted you...and we all should have expressed ourselves better...although that shouldn't be a big surprise. We weren't wanting you gone. We worried that you would be...permanently."

Tim laughed nervously and rubbed his head with his hands. "Boss...I..."

Gibbs stood up. "Look, McGee, I'll bet you haven't had a decent night's sleep since your wandering through the supernatural started. Am I right?"

Tim nodded but didn't look up.

"Sleep. Get some rest. Relax for the rest of the week and come back on Monday. I'd be willing to bet that both Ziva and Tony will be happy to have you back. ...and I'll make sure you get the debriefing I should have scheduled for you yesterday. That was my fault. You shouldn't have been forced into a defensive position after something like what happened, especially when your sister was in danger."

He started for the door.

"One question, Boss."

He stopped.

"Yeah, McGee?"

"Why didn't you trust me?"

Gibbs turned around and saw Tim standing, head tilted to the side, eyes wide and questioning.

"Because, McGee...even I make mistakes sometimes...and not trusting my agent was a big mistake. An apology isn't enough. You're right. It shouldn't be enough...but it's a start, and I'm sorry I didn't trust you, McGee. After all the times you've shown absolute faith in me, the least I could have done was reciprocate."

Tim nodded, not happily. It wasn't over, but he was agreeing that it was a start. Gibbs left and only let out his sigh of relief once the door was closed behind him. He had made a mistake and he was devoutly relieved that his mistake hadn't done irreparable damage.

...and as he headed back to his hotel, he thought about the coincidences that had led him to finding Tim's exact location...

...and he wondered.