Chapter 11

"The curtain of the universe is moth-eaten, and through its holes we see nothing now but mask and ghost."

Emile M. Cioran

Ziva walked into the hospital, uncertain of what it was she hoped to accomplish by her coming. She only knew that she needed to see Tim, to speak with him if possible...to see if he was still as changed as he had seemed before.

The more they learned about this group, the more horrifying it became that Tim had been a part of it...and willingly had worked with these people. She desperately wanted there to be another explanation for what had happened. Something to tell her what was going on. Tim just wasn't the kind of person who would be involved in a group wanting to take down the government. He wouldn't. He believed in the laws. He followed them and he believed they were good. He was one who wanted people to follow the rules and get punished when they didn't. It seemed to offend him when that didn't happen.

"May I help you, ma'am?"

Ziva blinked and realized that she had walked all the way to the desk without noticing.

"Yes. Is Timothy McGee receiving visitors?"

"Let me check..." The nurse trailed off and checked her list. "Yes. He might be sleeping, but you can go in and see him. Just down the hall, fourth door on the left."

"Thank you." She walked in the indicated direction and stepped hesitantly into the room.

Tim seemed to be asleep, an oxygen mask over his face, monitors tracking his heartbeat, his pulse.

Ziva walked over and sat down beside him.

"McGee?" she whispered.

Tim stirred slightly but didn't awaken.

"I do not understand this, what has happened. It does not make sense," she said softly. "What we saw in that house...it was not you. It could not be you."

Still nothing. Just breathing. Just his heart beating. Just the appearance of the man she had known without anything to show how much he seemed to have changed.

"I have been angry at you, McGee," she said. "Very angry. I had given up on thinking of you as a friend. ...but if you ask, I am willing to think of you as a friend again. I cannot even imagine how it got so far from what it was. Why we let that happen."

The heart monitor seemed to increase in frequency slightly but still Tim didn't move.

"I am afraid," she said, her voice very soft. "I am afraid of learning that your injuries were due to me, that I am the one who shot you. I think the others are afraid of that, too, but they have not admitted it. I hope that it was not me. I hope that, if it was, you can forgive me for it."

Tim never opened his eyes, but Ziva thought that he might have awakened at one point. Still, she wasn't sure what she would say to him while he was conscious; so she simply sat where she was and took comfort from the fact that he was alive. There was a lot of pressure on the MCRT right now because of what had happened. Every one of the members of the group had been successful in whatever their field had been. Those who had survived gave them some evidence of a problem because it was clear that they weren't quite all there. Abby was finding more and more information every day...and now, the FBI was involved as well because of the fact that they had cases that lined up with what Abby was finding.

That meant some of the onus was off Abby. It also meant that she now had time to process the bullets pulled from Tim. Two of them. The grazes were obviously not there to be analyzed, but both the bullets that had caused damage had still been inside his body. Even though no one was talking about it, they were all worried about what they'd find.

...which was part of what had brought Ziva here. In case she had shot Tim, she wanted to apologize in advance.

"I am sorry, Tim. If I did something that led to this...if your injuries are my fault. I am sorry."

Nothing. No response. Finally, Ziva had to give in and leave.

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

Abby was full to the brim with information. That much was clear. ...but what was also clear was that she wasn't happy about what she knew.

"Well?" Gibbs said.

"I analyzed the bullets, assessed trajectories and stuff like you asked me to, Gibbs."

"And?" Tony asked. While he hadn't admitted to any concern, he obviously worried about it.

"And...there's some stuff that happened in that room that...I don't think we've really understood yet."

"So tell us," Gibbs said, but without his usual impatience.

Abby turned around and faced her computer.

"Okay. Do you want to see what happened first or do you want the bullets?"

"See?" Ziva asked. "How is it possible that we could–?"

"Cameras. Loads of them. ...and because...because Tim gave us access to the mainframe, we've got it all. We know exactly what happened in there. The FBI has a copy. Director Vance asked me to go through it, make sure it was all genuine and then go through it with you and have you guys look at what happened."

"Let's see it," Gibbs said quietly.

"Okay. I've slowed it down because everything happened so fast in there."

Abby didn't turn around as she started the video going at about half speed.

"I've taken out the sound for now. It was too distracting. The microphones don't seem to be working right and it's really garbled."

Then, they watched in silence. They watched themselves come into the house, diving for cover, clearly shouting. What was more disturbing, however, was what came before. The people in masks were all sitting around, talking, enjoying themselves, but when the lights began to flash, they moved without hesitation...as if they'd been training for something like this. All of them...except one who was pulled away from the computer where he'd been sitting and dragged out of the shot. Then, the MCRT had come in.

"Why is it so light on this video? It was dark with strobe lights," Ziva said.

"Because there's a special filter on the camera...just like there was in the masks. The FBI guys figured that part out. It filtered out all the crazy lights so that they could see you guys just fine...but you'd be stuck."

"Yeah, we were," Tony muttered, rubbing absently at his arm.

"I know," Abby said, her voice small. In fact, she'd been the exact opposite of exuberant ever since that night at the house...or rather the morning after.

They watched as they each shot and killed or injured a number of their masked attackers. It was like watching a horrible silent movie.

"What is that colored line around each of our attackers?" Ziva asked.

Abby paused the video.

"I don't know," she said. "It looks like some kind of an identification system. You guys didn't get a line, but all the masked people did. There's a different color for each person and when you watch it for a while, you'll see that there are different brightnesses and stuff like that."

The video resumed. Suddenly, their attention was taken away from themselves and onto a masked person who came into the front hall late. He stopped...and then, pulled out a gun, a regular gun, and shot one of the other masked people in the back. Then, he turned around and fired at another masked man, one standing at the very back of the room...and then, inexplicably, he ran out of the hall again.

No one asked who it was. Somehow, they all knew.

The lights came on and there was a moment of static in the video.

"The filters malfunctioned and the camera went to backup settings," Abby said. "But the lights came back on."

"Yeah, we were there," Tony said.

"Yeah..."

Then, came the moment they had all been overtly or silently dreading. The masked man came back out into the front hall.

"That's Tim," Abby whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Slow it down," Gibbs said.

"More?" Abby asked.

"Yeah. We need to know."

Abby nodded. Clearly, she already knew. She hit a couple of keys. The video slowed down to a crawl.

Tony fired. Tim jerked backwards. The worst part was that, even though they knew it was him, they couldn't see anything except for his body's reaction to each bullet.

"A graze," Abby said.

Another masked person fired at Tim from behind. He lurched forward..and turned toward the new attack.

Almost at the same time, Gibbs fired.

"Second graze...and the back."

One last shot and finally Tim fell to the ground, his gun falling uselessly from his hand. He hadn't even been trying to fire it. It had been hanging by his side. In the middle of a gun fight and he hadn't even tried to save himself.

Abby started to cry.

The video continued at the snail's pace as Lovitz' team came in from the front and the other backup team came in from the back.

It was silent in the lab. No one was speaking. They didn't need to. All the conflicted feelings they'd had about Tim for the last year seemed...so wrong in the face of the fact that he had clearly been trying to help them...and his reward for that was getting shot by the people he'd tried to protect.

"We shot him," Abby whispered through her tears.

No one responded. They just stared at the video.

"Abby?" Gibbs asked, his voice very soft.

"Yeah?"

"How far back does the video go?"

"Hours."

"Track what McGee was doing there. See what you can do with the audio. We're going to need as much information as possible. What's happening with their files?"

Abby sniffed loudly. "The...The FBI people are giving me updates on what they've done and I'm giving them what I've done. We aren't hiding anything. I'm supposed to go to the house tomorrow and work with them."

"Okay. Do that."

"Okay."

Gibbs looked at Tony and Ziva, both seeming rather shell-shocked in their own ways...but Ziva's expression was tinged with relief. She hadn't been one responsible for shooting Tim. Slowly, she lifted a hand toward Tony's arm, but he looked at her and then stalked out of the lab.

Ziva looked at Gibbs, almost helplessly.

"Ziva...go and see what help Lovitz needs right now. He's working on this stuff, too."

"Yes, Gibbs." Quickly, she left the lab.

"Gibbs...what are we going to do?" Abby asked, plaintively. "We shot Tim!"

"You didn't do anything, Abby," Gibbs said. "I did. Tony did. Someone else did. Not you. Not Ziva."

"But...But why was Tim there? Why was he with them? Why did he choose these guys? I don't understand!"

Gibbs hugged her, suppressing his own shock at the realization that it was his bullet that could have killed Tim. The others had been painful but not life threatening. His bullet could have killed Tim. No matter how angry he'd been. No matter how much he'd been frustrated at the way things had been going...he'd never even considered actually trying to hurt Tim.

"We have time to figure it out, now, Abbs. We will."

Abby pulled back and nodded. "Right. I'll...get to work."

"Good." He kissed her on the cheek and left the lab.

...in search of Tony.

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

He was surrounded by his friends. They were smiling. He was showing them something. ...but then, their faces changed. Their eyes began to glow red. Their smiles became evil and frightening. Their hands grew long claws, like eagle talons. He was surrounded by enemies. They began to press in on him, getting closer and closer, their hands reaching out to grab him...

Tim opened his eyes. He felt like he was suffocating. He couldn't get any air. He needed air. He needed to get away from all this confusion, all this pain...all these things he couldn't seem to figure out in his own head.

He painfully pulled the covers off and tried to get out of bed. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew that he needed to get somewhere.

As soon as he tried to walk, he collapsed to the ground...pulling a number of machines over on top of him. He lay on the ground in a miasma of pain, unable to move.

Vaguely, he heard the door open after what seemed an eternity.

"Agent McGee!"

"Timothy!"

A voice he knew...one that filled him with shame and self-loathing.

The machinery was lifted off him.

"Please, allow me."

"Very well. Lift him very carefully. He may have already pulled his stitches...but if not, we need to keep it that way."

"Of course. I understand."

Tim kept his eyes closed. He still felt like he was suffocating. Nothing to do but try to get away. He reached feebly to get away.

"Timothy, stay still! We don't wish to cause you more pain."

"...breathe..." Tim gasped out.

Gently, so gently it was almost like he was floating, Tim felt himself being lifted off the ground and back onto his bed. Then, gentle arms around him.

"It is all right, Timothy. You will be all right. Just give yourself time."

The oxygen mask was again placed over his face. He breathed, but the problem wasn't with the actual amount of air in his lungs. It was with the chaos in his head. He couldn't find the energy to say that.

"I'm here for you, lad. If you want the help, I'm here."

The words, simple though they were, suddenly penetrated the fog in Tim's mind and he began to sob. He didn't try to speak. He didn't try to move. He just cried. He cried until the fog began to thicken and pull him away from consciousness toward blessed oblivion.

He didn't fight it.

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

"Oh, dear," Ducky said softly.

The sedative had taken effect and Tim was out.

"This is the second time he's tried to get out of bed, Dr. Mallard," the nurse said. "We're going to have to restrain him if he can't be trusted to stay in bed. He's lucky that the stitches held."

Ducky nodded.

"He'll sleep for hours now. Do you know what he was doing?"

"I haven't any idea. I wish I knew what was going through his mind...but I'm not sure even he does."

"Well, are you going to stay?"

"Yes, for now."

"Make sure you let us know when you leave. I'll leave a note for his doctor, but this is not normal behavior."

"I know that much."

The nurse withdrew and Ducky turned his attention back to Tim. No matter what Gibbs might think, Ducky was certain that Tim had been brainwashed in some way. Not in the Hollywood fashion with spinning wheels, nor even with drugs...but something else had been used to reel Tim in and it had worked...only not completely. It might have been better if it had worked fully because the confusion Tim seemed to be feeling was pulling him in dangerous directions.

"What is going on in your mind, Timothy?" Ducky asked.

There was no reply.