A/N: You may need a tissue (maybe just one) for this one. We both thank our loyal readers and reviewers.
Again, I must thank my co-author, Shelbylou.
Ducky had given Tim's parents a key and had advised them to do what they needed to do to get Timothy settled in whilst he was at the graveside attending Anthony's burial. That was the part of the day that no one had mentioned in front of Tim, purely because he'd want to be there to say his final farewell and that was the one place that there was no way for him to blend in to the background and remain unnoticed. As badly as Tim wanted to go, needed to be there, he couldn't. And even though no one said anything, it hurt deeply and felt as though Tony was actually twisting the knife himself.
Tim had tried to hold on to the numbness, tried to use it as a tool to shut away his emotions, but his efforts were thwarted when the tears returned, refusing to stop. His parents and Sarah had brought him to Ducky's house and settled him into bed in what had been Ducky's mothers' bedroom suite at the M.E.'s insistence, Ducky had stated it was much bigger and had the ensuite bathroom that Timothy needed, as well as the layout that was required for the wheelchair to freely move. They bustled around him until Tim promised them all he was okay and that they could go take a nap. He even pushed Sara to go back to class. The truth of the matter was though, that he was far from okay.
His sorrow seemed endless and his heavy guilt engulfed him; the weight of both together was damn near bone crushing and left him feeling as though he was drowning in his emotional turmoil. As his sobs returned, he buried his head in the pillows and gave in to the intense pain, both physical and emotional and as he let it hurt, his mind made the decision to let it to hurt so badly that he wanted to scream. He felt as though he deserved it; all of it, every last bit of the pain and grief that swallowed him up into that black hole he was wallowing in. So he accepted it and just let himself cry into the empty room until exhaustion finally dragged him under once more.
******************
Ducky returned to his house feeling almost completely overwhelmed and exhausted. His struggle to be there for the team when he'd felt more needed by Timothy, was most heart-wrenchingly difficult as well as physically tiring but somehow, he'd managed to strap on a thin smile of encouragement when it had been needed and had been there for everyone throughout the service and the burial. His thoughts, however, weren't with the team that he stood beside; the very team by which he felt should have been united in their grief; near as much as they'd been with the two brave and wonderful souls that this team had lost to this tragedy, both in life and in death.
All throughout the day, Ducky's thoughts seemed to be playing tennis; what with Timothy on one side of the court and poor Anthony, Bless his soul, on the other. It was constant, the thoughts rotating from concern for Timothy to sorrow for the loss of Anthony. Glimpses of something else broke through the rotation of the two thoughts and there was one more ache in his tormented mind. Sitting central to the swirling grief and concern, was the suffering Tony'd endured in the last hour, the suffering that seemed to feed on the two rotating emotions. There was no peace from any of it for the M.E. and quite frankly, it exhausted him greatly.
He felt marginally better as he reached his house. There was a sense of relief that he and Jethro had managed, albeit silently, to both be there together for the sake of the now broken team, thankfully, without seeming to damage their already strained friendship; and more importantly, the team. For that, Ducky was eternally grateful. He slowly got out of his car and headed into the house to see what state Timothy was in and to make sure his young friend and his parents had settled in.
It didn't take long to ascertain that the young man's parents were resting comfortably in the guest room downstairs and his sister had long since departed. Ducky wasn't surprised to hear silence and he'd assumed that Timothy would be sleeping. His assumption proved correct as he checked on the young man. Taking a closer look, Ducky could see that Timothy was in serious pain even as he slept; his face holding the etched lines of agony that it did when he was awake.
Looking at his watch, Ducky noticed it had been five hours since Timothy had last taken any pain reliever and was certainly due for a dose now. Between the funeral and the burial service, as well as his parents needing to rest after getting the young man to sleep, the meds had unfortunately, been put on hold. Heading back to the kitchen, the M.E. retrieved an apple for the Tim, knowing full well he wouldn't have an appetite for anything but the meagre offering, especially seeing as the pain and angst seemed to severely waylay the young man's appetite. Wasting no time, he drew a glass out of the cupboard and fixed a glass of ice water to offer the young man as well, before heading back to the injured man. He made sure to grab the young man's pain medication as he went.
Waking Timothy was an unpleasant task and the knowledge of knowing he would be trying to move around in pain, was something Ducky wished he didn't have to put him through. Still, the boy had to eat before taking his meds. It couldn't be put off any longer.
"Timothy, you must wake up and eat, my dear boy. There you are. Come now, let's get you sitting up as comfortably as we can, shall we? I suggest you try to sleep in an inclined position for a little while yet because this moving around is not going to feel very good."
Tim opened his eyes and blearily looked around. Where was he? Why was Ducky here? Then again, where was here? As his memories slowly returned, reality crashed through the gates of his wakefulness. Tim desperately fought back the tears, he'd cried enough for a lifetime and it was time to stop.
Gingerly, he worked at sitting up with Ducky's help. He had to agree with the M.E.'s suggestion; there wouldn't be any giving in to the desire to lay down again. The pain from sitting back up was simply too much and sapped whatever little bit of energy he had. He'd been awake for all of two minutes and he felt almost as exhausted as he had before he'd fallen asleep.
"Thanks, Ducky." He managed to rasp out. His voice so quiet, it was almost a whisper.
Ducky understood and didn't push him to do anything but eat so he could take his meds. Silently he took Tim's vital signs and wrote them in the chart that Ducky had set up. He knew it was going to be a while before Tim had passed the risk of infection and Ducky had realised that the best way of catching any of the warning signs would be to monitor Tim and keep records, it was the best way and Tim understood how important this was in lieu of any new developments.
'How do you feel, Timothy? Are you experiencing any dizziness or breathing problems? Do you feel as though you are in more pain than before you fell asleep?" Ducky asked the questions in quick succession as he recognised the worsening tiredness.
"I'm okay, Ducky." Tim answered in return, his voice almost a whisper.
"Timothy, you must tell me exactly how you are feeling in order for me to know if your injuries are causing you any problems." The M.E. admonished gently.
"I'm not dizzy, but then again I haven't tried to get out of bed yet, either. The pain's about the same." The young man answered the previous questions with the same monotone voice he'd used a minute ago.
Ducky silently set about checking Tim's wounds for any signs of infection.
"Thank you for taking me in like this, you didn't have to do this." Tim offered politely.
"Nonsense my dear boy! Need does not factor into this nearly as much as choice. I choose to do this because you needed someone to look after you until you've recovered from your injuries. In addition to your physical injuries, we must work to help you overcome this belief that you seem to be harbouring, that you are responsible for what has happened. I made the choice to be that someone and that is the end of that discussion." Ducky directed.
"Ducky, Please. Don't waste your time." Tim said miserably.
"Timothy! " The M.E.'s anger was impossible to miss and the warning made Tim flinch momentarily.
"I'm just being honest, Ducky." Tim defended himself meekly. "It's not that I don't appreciate what you're doing for me, but .."
"But, nothing, young man! Now, I will hear no more of this!" Ducky ordered in a tone akin to Gibbs. Tim looked over at Ducky and noticed the same fierce look in Ducky's eyes and realised exactly how much Gibbs actually does rub off on the people that work with him.
Tim said nothing, realizing he couldn't expect Ducky to understand; not completely, anyway. He didn't want to upset him or be rude to him, but he couldn't help how he felt. The best he could do was compromise. He'd sit on his inner self and make sure he'd do nothing but be cooperative and polite toward his benefactor and his parents. .
"Thank you, Ducky." Was Tim's first step to attempt his self enforced, fragile stoicism.
"You are quite welcome. Now, are you ready to get out of this bed? Do you think you can manage getting yourself into the chair or do you require assistance?"
"I can do it, Ducky. Thanks." Tim answered determinedly and set out to prove to himself just that. It was hard and it hurt like hell, but soon, he'd accomplished the task and felt a little better for it, even though it did seem to sap what remaining energy and strength he'd had. Still he pushed himself.
"All right. I will wait for you in the kitchen Timothy. Would you like some tea?"
"Yes please Ducky. I'll be there soon." Tim conceded as he slowly wheeled himself into the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind him.
When he was finished in the bathroom, Tim wheeled himself out and headed down the hall to the kitchen, moving at a snail's pace. He never made it there; instead, finding himself drawn to a small sitting room. The open door seemed to beckon to him with its' obvious appeal of both privacy and solace. He wheeled himself over to the huge picture window that displayed the peaceful, inviting look into the world outside for him. As he sat at there, gazing hopelessly out of the window, his mind clouded away from the here and now and settled into a place where he hoped he'd finally find some peace or at the very least, some answers.
"Now, what the hell are you doin', Probie?"
"Tony?"
"Who else?"
What are you doin' here? I'm not asleep so I'm not dreaming."
"You never heard of day dreamin, McDoubter?"
"I thought you'd be busy today."
"I was, but now I'm here. I gotta ask. What happened today, Probie?"
"I was there Tony. The only way I could be a least"
"Yeah, kinda figured that, Tim. Thank you for that. It meant a lot to me to know you were there."
"But, you didn't know, did you? You had to have thought I flaked out on you..."
"Maybe a little bit, but not for long. It doesn't matter. What matters is that you came despite the Brass balls tryin' to stop you. How you doin?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"
"Considering I'm dead? Uh, No McGoo."
Tim was silent.
"Huh, You're still giving the Duck Man a hard time, Probie. What's up with that?"
"I'm trying not to Tony. But, I can't just put what happened in a drawer somewhere and act like it didn't happen. That's exactly what he thinks I'm capable of doing, but I'm just not strong enough Tony"
"He's concerned about you, McGee."
"I know, Tony. I know. But, I still can't just..."
"You gotta move on, Probie."
"I can't. For God's sake, Tony! You just died four days ago! We just... They just buried you today!"
"I know, but don't you think you've punished yourself enough Probie?"
Again, Tim was silent.
"I mean, you can't forget that you're still recovering. We don't want you compromising your health."
"I won't Tony; it wouldn't be fair to Ducky. He's put his life on hold to take care of me, so have my parents and my sister. I can't let them do that for any longer than necessary. I'm not ..."
"NO! Do NOT make me head slap you, McGee!"
"I thought we'd already agreed that you can't do that. Besides, Tony, I'd rather you didn't; If you know what I mean."
"Yeah, Pal. I do. I'm really sorry about the boss, Tim
"We both knew he'd take this hard, Tony. I just wasn't prepared for exactly how hard. Guess I shoulda been, huh?"
"No one can ever be prepared for something like this, Tim. Give him time, he'll be back lookin' out for you like he's done since he pulled you onto the team, before you know it."
"No he won't but that's okay. I mean why would he? I don't work for him anymore. Hell, Tony, I don't work for anyone anymore and probably never will again."
"What the hell kind of pep talk is that, McPessimist?"
"Realism, there's no point in glossing over things"
"Listen, Probie. It's obviously not doing you any good to think about all of this now so back up on the dwelling on everything and just concentrate on getting better."
"Tony..."
"And don't let me hear you trying to tell someone or even yourself that you're not worth their time! You got me?"
"Tony..."
"I SAID, you got me?"
"Yeah, Tony, I got you."
"Yeah? I'm holding you to that."
"I'll try. I'm not making any promises."
"We'll work on that, Probie."
"Tony?
"Yeah, McGee?"
"Can you do something for me?
"Me? I'm dead, remember?"
"I know that Tony, It's not like I need to be reminded of that, okay?"
"Sorry kid. What favour?"
"Never mind."
"Tim, I am sorry. I didn't mean to throw it back in your face. You really do need to remember it's not your fault."
"We were a team, Tony. We were supposed to protect each other, of COURSE, it's my fault!"
"PROBIE!"
Tim sighed heavily.
"Look ,I gotta go, Probie, ask me the favour already."
"I was just wonderin' if you could tell the others that I miss them, always have."
"Yeah. Sure, that I can do."
"Thanks, Tony."
"No sweat, bro. I'll be back. You'd better be on your best behaviour!"
"You're one to talk!"
"Take care of yourself , McGoo."
"You, too, Tony."
***************
Ducky had been sitting in the kitchen for half an hour and was starting to become concerned about Timothy. As he traipsed back down the hall, he could only hope that nothing was wrong but when he reached the bedroom he found it empty, his concern stepped up a notch and he headed down the hall to look for him.
As he neared the kitchen again he checked in the other open rooms. He noticed that the sitting room door was open and let out a small sigh of relief. Surely, Timothy had found the peaceful view outside and was taking advantage of it. It was the place his mother would often sit with her morning coffee. Sure enough, there Timothy was there sitting in his wheelchair. He had stopped the chair so that it sat adjacent to the window and had rested his head against the window frame. Ducky walked round to face Timothy head on and couldn't help but see the tears sliding down the young man's face even though his eyes were closed.
Ducky silently retreated to the door and stood watching Timothy from the short distance. He was pulled out of his silent vigil when he heard voices approaching. Ducky turned his head to see Mr. and Mrs. McGee quietly talking as they headed his way. He quickly strode down the hall to meet them in order to give their son time to pull himself together.
"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. McGee. I trust you were able to get some rest? The M.E. asked in a normal tone.
"We did, Ducky, thanks to your generosity. How's Tim?" Mrs. McGee answered.
"I'm okay." Tim answered quietly from the doorway as he wheeled himself through it and headed towards the kitchen. His parents watched him with concern but Tim handled the trip down the hall by himself. Both of his parents looked at Ducky expectantly and waited for the truth about their only son's condition. Ducky sighed heavily and took off his glasses to clean them, to a stranger, this action was nothing, but to his friends it was a sign of deep Ducky's worry was.
"He is trying to be fine which is most likely for our benefit. Let's at least allow him that, shall we? His injuries are on the mend and as yet there are no signs of infection. We have enough to watch out for my dear, let's not make it worse for him by focusing on what we believe he's not telling us, hmm?"
"You're right, Ducky. We need to somehow show him that we believe what he says, unless he gives us reason to worry." Mr. McGee answered.
"All right, then, shall we go and try to lure him outside so he can get some fresh air?"
Ducky and Tim's parent's met him in the kitchen and decided to go and sit out on the back porch. They sat around silently, just taking in the daylight and the beauty of the day in the sunlight that remained. The silence seemed to go on forever before Tim broke it with an unexpected request.
"Mom, Dad, I need you to stop putting your life on hold for me. You both have jobs to get back to and it's not right for you to give up you leave time for me. You count on that time for your vacations. It's bad enough Ducky has to give up his, I can't deal with all three of you doing it."
"Tim, Ducky shouldn't have to do this alone." His mother reminded him gently.
"Ducky, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."
"Nonsense, Timothy. I understand completely."
"Are you sure that this is what you want, Tim" Mr. McGee asked his son gently and watched sadly as Tim nodded morosely.
"Yeah, Dad. I'm sure." Tim replied "It's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me, because I do. It's just...I can't... I just need to know that you're going on with your lives, not being railroaded by what happened in my life. Please, go back to what's normal for you both, and for Sarah."
"Tim..." His mother began to object, her voice was choked as if she was struggling to hold back her tears.
"Mom, please?" Tim begged.
"All right, Son. Just as soon as we get your apartment taken care of, we'll head home, Ok?"
"Thank you."
In the first few hours after the funeral; after Ducky had gone home, Ziva and Abby remained glued to each other's side and gratefully accepted Jimmy's offer to drive them to Ziva's apartment. That in itself was a first and it spoke volumes to Jimmy as to just how devastated these normally strong people were. As he dropped them off, he waited for them to go inside before driving home; his mind a whirl of emotions and thoughts that had simply refused point blank to be compartmentalised. It worried him. The fact that this ordinarily close knit family were suffering the loss of a friend, of family, and had become separated ate into him.
Abby and Ziva both felt as if they were walking through a field stuffed with thick underbrush and each step became harder to take then the one before it. Once they reached the security of Ziva's apartment, they both sat down on the couch and gave in to the tears they'd held back during the course of the day. They held on to each other tightly, allowing the other to lend them strength and act as the lifeline that they both desperately needed. Both of them clung to each firmly and sobbed.
"Look at them, Kate. This is bad. Really bad."
"Tony, they have each other. And they have the others. They''ll be okay."
"If they took a minute to worry about Tim, they'd be able to get through this; he's great at being supportive when you really need it."
"That's not gonna happen, Tony. I think you know that."
"What? You tellin' me that they blame him, too?"
"Tony. They loved you."
"They loved McGee, too!"
"You've been ripped away from them Tony and he officially took the blame."
"This sucks!"
"I know, Tony. I know."
Tony walked over behind the girls and put a hand on each of their shoulders. He stooped down to whisper into the air between them.
"Abby, Ziva. It's gonna be okay. I love you guys. Look out for each other now, and don't leave Tim behind. Take care of him for me."
Abby and Ziva both seemed to hear someone talking to them and felt the hand that rested on their shoulders. Both of them stopped crying and sat up, as if listening for more.
"I know you're pissed and sad right now, but you gotta let this go, Guys; for Tim's sake. For all of your sakes, you gotta be the ones to let this go."
"Tony?" Abby whispered.
"Yeah, Abbs. It's me."
Looking towards Tony, Abby smiled. Tony watched as that tiny smile sparked a glimmer of hope in her green eyes. "Tony, you're here?"
"Just to make sure you guys are okay."
"Tony?" Ziva's tremulous voice tore at Tony's heart as much as Abby's had.
"Yeah, Zee. I'm here.
"Tony, I never got to tell you..."
Tony bent down low and whispered in her ear. "I always knew you loved me, my little ninja chick. And I love you too, always have. Don't ever forget that."
Ziva's small smile lifted the gloom from the room and she felt the heaviness in heart lighten slightly.
"I gotta go, ladies but I need you to promise me that you'll take care of Tim for me. You need to help Ducky out with that because they both need you."
"Okay, Tony." Abby whispered.
"I don't know if I..." Ziva whispered.
"This isn't Tim's fault Zee."
Confusion played across their faces as they silently thought about what Tony was telling them.
" Promise me you'll take care of Tim." Tony insisted. .
"I'll check on him.." Abby vowed.
"Tony, I can't. Not yet." Ziva's quiet voice shook with emotion as she spoke honestly.
"Just don't wait too long ok? He needs you." Tony kissed both their cheeks tenderly. "Bye, my beautiful girls."
Both girls wiped fresh tears away and hugged each other, this time it was with a little less grief as a little bit of joy pushed it away after the visit they'd just had from their beloved Tony. They both felt a glimpse of resolve, and decided to make the effort to pick their feet up and trudge through the pain that they seemed mired in. Had they known that Kate was there as a silent witness, they probably would have Gibbs-slapped her for not letting them visit with her.
Kate, on the other hand, was busy wiping her own tears away as Tony put his arm around her and escorted her out, away from their friends.
*************
Jethro had once again earned his two b's now, but somehow it wasn't helping. He couldn't even bring himself to think past the two blatant facts about the situation hurt the most - It shouldn't have happened. And Tony died because McGee disobeyed a direct order.
Those two thoughts kept swirling like thick fog through his mind and he couldn't help but wish, with all the times Shannon had come back to visit him whenever it seemed to have needed to see or hear from her, that today would be the next time that she did. He needed to be able to draw on her strength.
Ironically, and with that funny sense of timing that always seemed to be in play throughout his life, Gibbs felt a presence with him in his basement almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind. Turning towards where Shannon's ghost usually stood when she came to visit, he was shocked to find not his beloved first wife, but his much loved Jenny.
"Hello Jethro."
"Jen." Gibbs struggled to keep his voice calm and the small crack betrayed his emotions.
"I'd ask you how you are, but anyone looking can see the answer to that."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm not really sure, Jethro."
"Well that's reassuring."
"I'm fairly sure that I'm not here to do that."
"I'm glad we talked."
"That was quite a blow out you had with Ducky."
"News travels fast."
"When it creates the shock wave that you have, it does."
"That why you're here?"
"It's possible."
"Meaning you don't know."
"I already told you that, Jethro."
"You have any idea the pain you caused?"
"Not something I ever thought I'd hear you admit. The stoic NCIS Agent finally admitting his feelings? Now that's a first."
"Wasn't talking about me, Jen. It took Tony a long time before he stopped hating and blaming himself for what you did. Vance blamed him too. You almost cost him his career! You know, Ziva barely managed to keep it together. What the hell were you thinking?
"It's ancient history, Jethro and I'm positive I'm not here to talk about that."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"What are you gonna do, Jethro?"
"About?"
"Ducky!"
"What about him?
"You can save acting obtuse for someone who doesn't know you, Jethro. You just gonna leave things the way they are between you? Broken?"
"Is that what you call it?"
"Are you?"
"Wasn't aware it was a matter of life or death, Jen."
"Well, you need to have a rethink, because it very well may be, Jethro."
"You're telling me that you're here because Ducky and I had a disagreement?"
"No, Jethro. I'm telling you that I'm here because what you do or don't do about this has the potential to have catastrophic consequences that you won't be prepared to live with."
"Thought you didn't know why you were here."
"It just came to me. I'm here to remind you that you seem to be breaking your own rules."