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Chapter Eleven: Stasis, Equal Opposing Forces
"McGee?" Tony called through the door. No response. "McGee, we've set up an interview room. We're coming in to take you to it. All right?" Again, no response. He looked over his shoulder to the two guards and nodded them in. Through the window, they could see Timothy sitting on the floor beside the bed that had not been touched.
The capuchin guard had his rifle trained on Timothy at a distance while the Labrador guard stood at the captive's side, unarmed lest the prisoner attack and snatch it from him.
"On your feet," the guard said.
Timothy stood without looking at either of them but instead fixed his gaze with Tony's.
"Hello, Anthony." There was no smile, only cold, calculating eyes.
Tony repressed a shudder. Dangerous was the vibe that Timothy was screaming. The line of Tony's lips tightened as he wondered where Timothy was inside that fearful persona. Leading them to the impromptu interrogation room, Tony held the door open. Ziva was already there, standing beside the table in the middle of the room.
The guards handcuffed Timothy's hands behind his back, then to the chair on the far side of the room, forcing him to sit still. Timothy's long, black tail twitched at that, skin crawling at the idea of containment. Once that was done, Tony dismissed the guards. This would be within the team.
"McGee," Tony said, standing by the locked door and facing away. Where to start? Tony always walked into a questioning with a game plan, using his classic method of lulling them into a false sense of security then going in for the kill with evidence or knowledge that was unbeknownst to the one being questioned. But here was McGee, changed and darkened. What questions would he even understand?
Suddenly, McGee whispered out loud, with begrudging resignation, "I don't particularly want to kill him, though."
Tony and Ziva started at that.
"Oh, McGee." Ziva's expression was twisted with pitying despair. She recognized those signs of insanity and could only believe that her friend was all but lost.
However, Tony narrowed his eyes and leaned in on the table with his hands to look Timothy in the eye. "Who are you talking to, McGee?"
Timothy rolled his eyes. "Like I would know his name. Do dealers exchange personal information with addicts?"
"What did he give you?" Tony pressed. Ziva observed from a step back. Tony was chasing something, digging it out. Hope flared in her for a moment. Perhaps something was not what it seemed, that maybe Timothy was not completely lost.
Timothy's eyes lit up like fire, and he showed his teeth in a smile. "Power."
"Power?" Tony snarled, smacking the table top with his hand. Genuine anger pulled Tony's face into a mask of fury. "You, McGee, crumbling to power, just so you could kill Abby?" Ziva did not react to that calculated lie.
There was a instant crack in Timothy's arrogant armor- or perhaps cage. His eyes widened, his black ears folding back. "No," he gasped. He hunched over himself, gasping and unable to breath. "No, I couldn't- not Abby, she couldn't have-"
"But you did," Tony pressed viciously. "Why, McGee?" Timothy stared silently ahead, and Tony smacked the table again to punctuate his question. "Why?"
"Because!" Timothy finally said. The voice was loud in his head, ordering him to stop, ensuring him it was a lie, but Timothy bowed his head against his tears. He could barely manage to whisper, "She hurt me." Tony and Ziva blinked at that. "But I loved her. I never wanted to hurt her."
Tony wavered. This was not the deranged McGee that busted down Abby's door. This was a new Tim, a tortured, scared man. Something was not adding up.
But Timothy plowed on, looking up in desperation into Tony's eyes, leaning towards him in his earnest plea, somehow knowing that he only had moments to give them a lead, any lead. "Tony. Tony, I never wanted this power. It was forced on me, he's using me, I can't stop it, the darkness inside my head, please, please, help-"
Suddenly Timothy went rigid in the chair and threw his head back, grinding his teeth against a scream and fighting his binds to curl against the agony. Tony and Ziva leapt forward, recognizing that he was in terrible pain and desperate to aid him but not knowing how. His entire body shook, muscles seized with spasms, until he could not contain the cry any longer.
"Stop! Stop, I'll do what you want," Timothy gasped, tears streaming. He hung limp from the chair and the binds, head bowed. "I'll do what you want."
"No, Tim, it's not too late!" Tony pleaded, gripping his arm for emphasis, but it was too late.
Timothy had all at once relaxed, the pained lines smoothing from his facial features. That icy smile once more twisted his lips.
"Oh, Anthony." Those bright green eyes bore into Tony's. "You nearly took me from my new boss with that little lie about Abigail. But now I know better." Timothy leaned in even closer to Tony, mere inches apart, all the hatred in the world in his voice as he grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Like I could have ever trusted an idiotic, egotistical bastard like you."
The cold delivery of that statement made Tony flinch back for just a moment. It was so unwavering, so pure of voice, that Tony did not know what to believe. He had always poked fun at little, ol' Timmy, but surely a venom to that degree was not warranted. But Tony just looked at that cold hate on Timothy's face and found himself fostering just a sliver of doubt for the unity of his team.
"Tony," Ziva said in warning, seeing the shadows pass over Tony's once-unshakable confidence.
"No, Ziva, I know," Tony cut in.
Timothy just smiled and shook his head. "Yes, Anthony, you always just know, don't you? When Jennifer comes back, you'll know what to do, right? When I get back out, you'll know what to do then, too, of course. I sincerely wish you luck, Anthony, but there is really nothing you can do," Timothy taunted, then added with ominous sparse detail, "Oh, and I think Jethro will be needing that luck, too."
"We are done here," Ziva said, putting herself between Tony and Timothy, moving the senior agent towards the door. They stepped out, and she pulled the door shut. "He is merely trying to unsettle you."
The two agents stepped back from the room while the guards led Timothy away. The captive Timothy did not struggle or react to his treatment but merely continued to walk with his head and tail high. Nothing perturbed him in anyway. In fact, he was still smiling and making conversation with the voice only he could hear.
"Of course I won't let them." A pause, his eyes roving as he considered his ideas. "Oh, not long at all. I can't wait for that." A look darkening his eyes, coming to agreement with the distant figure. "It will be mine. Yes, mine." He smiled ever more deep and dark, but did not laugh. No, he did not laugh.
As he disappeared down the halls, Tony sighed and looked down. "It kills me, Ziva. It really kills me."
"I know, Tony," she reassured him. "But he is still in there, and we will save him."
Fervor hardened Tony's expression. "He is in there. He looked me in the eye and begged for help." Tony bared his teeth as the fur of his tail bristled. "And I have no idea how to help him. Who this person is that took McGee and the Director, I don't know how they did it. But I'm an investigator. Damn it, I'm going to figure this out and save them."
After the interrogation, Tony had to go back to the shambles that was NCIS. Bereft of director, lead agent, and two specialists, Tony had to step in momentarily as head of affairs and try to do damage control. Ziva would have to return soon as well, but first she was to drop Abby off at her apartment for a few days' rest.
Abby was sitting on the edge of her bed when Ziva knocked on the open door, and she could not repress of a flicker of shock at the lab specialist's appearance. Eye blackened, arms scraped, wing pinned against her back in a delicate brace for a delicate appendage, Abby was a mess. Without makeup and, more importantly, without her trademark smile, Ziva felt as if she were looking at a shell of the person she once knew.
"Abby? May I come in?" Ziva asked. Abby looked up at the voice, perhaps a bit startled.
"Of course," Abby said blankly, going back to staring ahead.
Ziva's heart twisted for the shaken woman, and she sat down next to her, careful to not disturb the bed or jostle her. "Abby, do you need anything? We are here for you. Also, Gibbs is awake, and he will be cleared to leave tonight. Do you want to visit him on the way out, perhaps?"
At this, Abby's black ears perked up. Ziva could not help but notice that one of them was nicked badly, leaving it ragged-looking on the edge, likely to never heal to its original unmarred condition. "Oh, yes. Yes, we should do that. But also... "
"Yes, Abby?"
"Is Tim here?"
Ziva did not want to answer. The last thing Abby needed was to see her attacker again or how her once close friend had fallen. "Yes," Ziva said slowly. "But he is being kept in solitary confinement."
"Oh, I just wanted to know where he was," Abby said with a matter-of-fact nod.
Not sure what Abby was getting at, Ziva said, "He will not be getting out while he is like this, Abby. He will not be able to hurt you."
Abby gave her a look that was too tired to be angry. "I'm not really worried about that, Ziva. I just want Tim to be himself again."
Hoping to give her some glimmer of hope, Ziva told her how the interrogation had gone. "He came back to himself completely when he thought you had died. In a way, you are helping him be himself. We got several clues as to what is happening to him after that. We think someone is controlling him, drugging him with power and keeping him under their grip."
The news seemed to not have an effect for a moment, then Abby's brow furrowed.
"He… McGee was going to kill me," Abby said thoughtfully. "But he stopped. He looked at my eyes and just stopped. Like he wanted to, and yet, he didn't want to at all. He was stuck there when Tony came in. This might sound crazy, but I think I shouldn't have fought back."
"What do you mean?" Ziva asked, perplexed. Surely if she had not fought back or tried to escape, she would have died long before the team had gotten there.
"I mean that when I stopped fighting back, when I tried to appeal to the Tim that was in there… I think it worked."
Yeah, I will update my other story now. I assume if you're here, you've read the other since it's twice as popular. Sadly, I enjoy this one more, but at least the other is still fun. I finally figured out where to take it!