CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tim stared up at the ceiling. In the dim light, the water spot in the corner looked remarkably like a hyena. That one over there was shaped just like the boot of Italy. He sighed. Since he's woken up to Sarah's cannibal song, he had awakened a couple more times, each period of consciousness longer than the last. Last time, he'd made it almost ten minutes. It wasn't easy, and every time he drifted off, he feared he might not wake up again.

It must be nighttime, he mused. The hospital had a hushed sound to it and the only lights on in his room were the nightlights at the head of his bed. He had no real concept of time. Even when people told him something, like how long he'd been in the hospital, it was hard for his mind to hold onto it. It was like pouring water into a sieve.

He shifted his gaze to scan the room. It was empty. He frowned. This was the first time he'd awakened to an empty room. Normally, someone was here. That doctor, his mom, Sarah, Penny, Gibbs… He paused. Gibbs. Gibbs was his boss. He worked for NCIS. Tim frowned. NCIS. He did remember working there. He worked with computers. That doctor, what was his name again?, oh yeah, DeKay, said that he'd been bitten by a rabid dog during the course of an investigation. He couldn't remember any more than that. He clenched his jaw in frustration. Memories were vague and fleeting. One moment he'd remember something and the next, it was gone. Dr. DeKay claimed his memory should improve with time. His body was still fighting the rabies virus, although the viral numbers were dropping quickly.

Tim sighed deeply. He shifted his hand slightly and grimaced. That was another thing. He felt like all his muscles had completely atrophied. Any movement took him an incredible amount of effort and left him sweaty and shaking. The doctor told him that soon they would start him on physical therapy. He seemed to believe that Tim would eventually regain his strength. In the meantime, Tim was dependent on everyone else for everything. He closed his eyes. He wanted to yell and scream, but he knew he didn't have it in him. Talking was almost more than he could handle. At least everyone else seemed excited about the little he could do. To Tim, it was disturbing how helpless he'd become.

A sudden movement caught his attention. His room door swung open. A tall man, a cup in his hand silently entered the room. Tim's eyes widened. Dad? Tim hadn't seen his dad in years. Not since his father had so adamantly disapproved of Tim joining NCIS. Tim felt his stomach clench.

Admiral McGee sighed, settled into the chair next to the bed, and picked up a book from the table. He glanced over at the bed and when his eyes met Tim's, he froze. For a long moment neither man said a word. Slowly the admiral set down his book and cup, his eyes never leaving his son's face. "Tim? Tim, are you awake?"

Tim gave a weak smile. "Yeah, Dad." He winced at the sound of his voice. He sounded so weak.

For a moment, his dad said nothing. He looked as if he was having trouble believing Tim was talking to him. He swallowed. "I kept hoping that…that you'd wake up when I was here." Suddenly he reached over and grasped his son's hand. Tim blinked. Demonstrations of affection were completely alien when it came to his father.

Admiral McGee, his piercing gaze still fixed on his son, took a deep breath. "Tim, I have so many things I want to say to you. Things I should have said years ago." Tim frowned in confusion. His father looked away for a moment, then continued. "Tim, I want you to know that despite what you might think, I am so proud of you and the man you've become. I know I was disappointed when you decided not to go the Academy, but that was my dream, not yours. I've done a lot of things wrong when it came to raising you. I kept trying to raise you like my father raised me, but you're not me. I wanted to make you tough, help you make your way in the world. But I think in the end, I just drove you away. My mother knows you better than I ever will. I should have listened to her."

Tim just stared at his father. His mouth was dry. He couldn't say a word. His father was apologizing? Was that was this was about? Had he really come that close to dying?

"Tim, can you forgive me? When I thought we were going to lose you, I realized what a bull-headed ass I'd been." Admiral McGee leaned closer, his grip on Tim's hand tightened. "Son, I want you to know that I love you. I know I never say it, but I do love you, in my own way. I'm not a demonstrative man. I wasn't raised that way." He gave a soft chuckle. "If you think I was tough, your grandfather was ten times worse." He sighed again. "Tim, I'm not foolish enough to think that you and I will ever see eye to eye on things, and I know I'll do things you won't agree with, but I'll always have your best interest at heart. You mean the world to me."

Tim closed his eyes for a moment, a wave of weariness crashing over him. He knew he couldn't stay awake much longer. He could feel himself drifting but he struggled to open his eyes once more. He focused on his father's worried green eyes, so much like his own. He didn't want to lose this moment. "I love you too, Dad. I'm glad you're here."

His father smiled in relief. "You rest, Tim. I'll be here if you need me."

Tim nodded and drifted off, a sense of peace enveloping him, and for the first time, he didn't worry.

Admiral McGee sat silently by his son's side, still holding his hand. He wasn't a demonstrative man. That was an understatement. He had been gone a good deal of the time when his children were growing up, and when he was home, he expected things to be run like he ran his ship. He remembered once when he overheard Sarah tell a friend that her father was like Captain von Trapp in The Sound of Music before Julie Andrews showed up. He'd actually been pleased. Now, looking back, he cringed at the thought.

He'd wanted to mold his son into a military man despite what Penny said. His mother had tried to warn him that Tim was not like him or his grandfather. Sure, Tim was good at following orders. In fact, as a boy, Tim had been terrified of doing anything wrong or straying beyond the rules. Unlike his sister. Admiral McGee smiled. His daughter would probably have made a damn good officer.

The admiral studied Tim's pale, gaunt face a moment longer. Well, he'd accepted the fact he hadn't been the best father, but damn it, he was going to protect his son. NCIS was obviously full of incompetents, and he wasn't going to let them waste his son's talents any longer. He could get Tim a much better job in the Pentagon or working for one of those tech companies. He leaned back in his chair. He had already barred those NCIS people from the hospital, well, except for Director Shepard. He felt obligated to allow her to see Tim since she was still technically his boss.

It was those others he wanted gone. Especially that Agent Gibbs. Admiral McGee was too familiar with guys like him. They thought they were invincible and entitled to special consideration. Well, the hell with that. Gibbs was the agent in charge and should have made sure Tim got the care he needed after that dog bit him. Sure, that weird forensics girl was ultimately responsible since she didn't do her job right, but the admiral believed Gibbs was just as much to blame. He didn't know much about the others – that DiNozzo guy or Officer David. Sarah said that DiNozzo used to give Tim a hard time, pulling pranks and crap like that. Just like those brats in school. Admiral McGee shook his head in disgust. Tim was well shed of all of them, and he was just the man to make sure that happened.

xxxxxxx

A few more days went by and Tim began to show some improvement. His short term memory was still troublesome, but he was learning to adapt. Dr. DeKay had started him on some gentle physical therapy once the tests showed he was no longer infected. Tim was frustrated by the slowness of his recovery. The littlest things exhausted him and his muscles ached painfully, but there was something else bothering him. And it was bothering him a lot. No one from his team had been to visit. Penny told him it had been over a week since Gibbs had been there that one night. Since then, nothing.

His family was constantly present, especially his father, but other than a brief visit from Director Shepard, no one else had been by. He frowned as he recalled her visit. The director had assured him that his job would be waiting for him, should be in the position to return. His father had been in the room at the time, and Tim had the distinct feeling the director would have said more had he not been there. It was obvious Director Shepard had been uncomfortable in the admiral's presence.

But still, that didn't explain why no one else had been around. Did they really not care? Despite all that had happened, Tim didn't believe that. Not deep down.

"Something bothering you, Tim?"

Tim turned his head to see his father enter the room. It was strange. He'd spent more time with his father in the past week than in his entire life, as far as he could remember.

"I, well, I was just wondering why my team hadn't been by to see me."

The admiral grunted in disgust as he moved into the room. "You don't need them, son. It's their fault you're in this godforsaken hospital. If those jokers had done their jobs, you wouldn't be here."

Tim's frown deepened. True, the error in the dogs' ID numbers hadn't been caught until it was too late to save him from the infection, but when they'd come by before the doctor had put him under, they'd all seemed genuinely worried. Something just didn't seem right. He glanced at the table. There was no phone. Didn't hospital rooms usually come with phones? Well, right now, he couldn't have dialed a phone by himself, much less hold it, even if he wanted to. He suddenly eyed his father suspiciously.

"Dad, did you tell them they couldn't visit me?" He knew how much his father despised NCIS.

The admiral said nothing for a long moment. "Yes. Yes, I did." He held up a hand as Tim began to protest. "It was for your own good, Tim. I've heard all about how your so-called team treated you. They treated you like crap. So, why should I let them in? You need to make a clean break of it. They've never treated you with the respect you deserve. Sarah told me about the pranks they pulled on you, the crappy assignments, not to mention the way that weird forensics woman treated you."

Tim gritted his teeth trying not to lose control. He should never have confided in Sarah about some of the problems he was having at work, especially with Abby. But his father had no right to deny his friends from visiting. He wasn't a child. He took a deep breath. He and his father had achieved a certain level of understanding since Tim had awakened and although Tim didn't want to disrupt it, he couldn't let his father start running his life again.

"Dad," he began, speaking slowly. Speaking could be tricky for him if he went too quickly. "I know you don't approve of NCIS. I know you think my team treated me badly, and yes, sometimes they did. But, they have also had my back. I owe my life to my team. I…I would like to see them if they want to come."

His father's eyes narrowed. Tim knew that look all too well. Admirals do not like to be told what to do, but Tim wasn't going to back down. He knew his team. They would come to see him.

"When you're stronger." His father looked away. Conversation over.

Tim opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. A wave of fatigue washed over him. He didn't have the strength to argue. Even this short disagreement left him exhausted and shaking. Any emotional upset played havoc with him. Maybe waiting a little longer would be a good idea. But he would see them.

xxxxx

A/N: Sorry for the delay getting this chapter up. Things are really hectic right now, so the last few chapters may be slow in coming. But, rest assured, I have never left a story unfinished and don't plan to start with this one. Thanks again for all of your support and kind words. They are much appreciated!