Chapter 12
Seventeen years ago...
Tim's preparations to apply to attend MIT ended up taking a lot of time. He spent hours practicing interviews with Mr. Ahrenson. He found every single possible scholarship for which he qualified. Dan and Maria attended a group session with his current therapist, getting recommendations for someone he could begin seeing when he arrived at MIT. At the same time, Danny was filling out numerous applications for UCSD, UCLA, the University of Michigan, and Urbana-Champaign. He claimed to be wanting to try them out, not knowing just what he was going to do. Tim tried to remember that Danny was nervous about things, too. He tried to make sure that he didn't ask for too much from Dan and Maria. To his credit, Danny actually noticed Tim's efforts and it went a long way to assuaging any resentment he might have felt at how much help Tim needed, how much more intensive his preparations were.
Finally, after months of work and stress, the final application had been sent, the final interview given...and both seniors could take a breath...and wait for notification of acceptance or rejection.
It was early Saturday evening when Danny realized that he hadn't seen any sign of Tim for a day or two. It wasn't strange. Tim tended to sequester himself on the best of days, but they were both in a situation where they didn't have anything they needed to do. Tim always had his homework done, and because of his interest in getting into a good university, Danny had been working much harder this year himself.
Suddenly, he remembered what day it was...and he had no doubt that Tim had remembered as well. Quickly, he ran up the stairs to Tim's bedroom and knocked on the door. There was no answer, but Danny opened it anyway. Tim was sitting on his bed, rocking back and forth, his eyes wide open and vacant.
"Hey, Tim?"
Silence. This was an improvement on his past reactions but still...Danny didn't want to see it happen.
"Tim." He put a hesitant hand on Tim's shoulder.
"I didn't hear anything."
"Tim, what does that mean?"
No answer.
"Hey, Tim!" He shook Tim gently.
Tim jumped and looked at him. "I didn't hear anything!"
"It's all right. I remembered what day it was, Tim. Sorry about that."
"Aunt Maria says I shouldn't focus on today. She says I should focus on happier days...but no matter what day it is...they'll still be gone. They won't come back and I can't remember."
"Sitting here won't help either, though, right?"
"I guess not."
"So...come with me!" Danny said and smiled mischievously.
"Where?"
"It's a surprise!"
"Danny..."
"What?"
"Your friends don't like me."
Danny grinned. "Did I say anything about my friends? I don't think I did. Just come on!"
"Why can't you tell me where we're going?"
"Because you'll think it's stupid."
Tim looked at him for a long moment and then looked around his room, the place where he hid when things were too much for him. Danny was ignoring the pieces of paper on the floor. He knew what they were and why they were there. It didn't need comment. Not anymore.
"I need my shoes."
"So put 'em on!"
Tim finally smiled. "Okay."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Present...
"...and Dad showed me how you can start a fire with a magnifying glass out on the driveway," Tim finished his story as they got out of the car in Quantico. "It seems silly now, but at the time, I thought he was magic. He didn't have to use a match!"
Ziva laughed.
"I think everyone must have magic parents when they are young."
"You're probably right," Tim said and looked back over his shoulder. There was a man watching them across the street. He shrugged off the strange feeling as the man got in his car and drove away. "Dad was sometimes busy at school. I remember once he came home really late and he was upset. I can't tell you what it was about, but some of his students did something stupid and he was angry at how they were being punished...or something. That night, he didn't do anything with me. I could tell he was angry, but I wasn't sure why; so I kind of hid upstairs and went to bed while Mom was talking to him in the study. He came up and I was still awake. He apologized for getting mad, even if it wasn't at me." Tim laughed a little.
"What?"
Tim grabbed his bag and they walked into the house. "Remember when I said that my parents raised me to be a gentleman?"
"And mine a killer?"
"Yes. My dad...that night, he said that he was ashamed of himself because he wanted me to learn to be a gentleman and he wasn't acting like one."
"How old were you?"
"Oh...nine, maybe ten by that time."
"McGee..."
"Yeah?"
"Did you ever lie to us...about your parents?"
"I guess it depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you consider me not bothering to differentiate between my mom and dad and my aunt and uncle lying. In the eyes of the law, they're both my parents. Aunt Maria and Uncle Dad...Dan officially adopted me."
"You still confuse them?"
Tim flushed and walked up the stairs, knowing that Ziva was right behind him, waiting for an answer.
"Sort of. My dad and Uncle Dan were identical twins. They...They looked exactly alike and I couldn't keep it straight in my head for a while. Consciously, I know who is who, but...I guess I still want to call Uncle Dan my dad. ...and I could, but I don't want to."
"Because you do not wish to forget your own parents?"
"No, that's not why. It's hard to explain." Tim looked around the bedroom. "Let's see what we can find, all right?"
For whatever reason, Ziva didn't push. Instead, she nodded and let them get to work. Tim was grateful. This was not the time to bring up familial difficulties. It was the time to try and track down a murderer.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Seventeen years ago...
Danny dragged Tim out of the house and down the street...to the playground.
"What are we doing here?"
"You and me, Tim, we've been taking life too seriously. We need to swing."
"Swing? We're too old for that."
"Exactly."
"Exactly?"
"Yep. We're too old for it, but if we do it because we want to, then it's just silly fun."
Tim looked at him almost quizzically.
"Come on, Tim. I can't remember you goofing off once, not in the six years you've been with us. You need to goof off once before you go off to MIT and be serious."
"I haven't been accepted yet."
"You will be and we both know it."
Tim shrugged, and Danny walked over to the swing set. He gave Tim a daring look and then hopped on one of the swings.
"Come on, Tim. I'll bet I can swing higher than you can!"
"Danny."
"What?"
"I...have...homework!"
"You weren't doing it and I'll bet you've already done everything that's due for the whole year. So...that's not going to fly as an excuse. Come on!" Danny pumped higher and higher while Tim just stared at him. Finally, he slowed to a stop. "Tim...can't you just have fun without thinking about it?"
"I...don't know how."
"Sure you do. I remember you from before. You had fun then. Of course, you were my younger cousin and I was too cool to hang out with an eight-year-old."
"And you're not now?"
"Nope. Come and try to have fun, Tim. I dare ya."
Danny felt a thrill of triumph when Tim finally walked over to the swing and sat down, almost tentatively.
"Now, swing!"
He kicked off the ground and began pumping again.
"You don't forget how to do this, Tim! It's like riding a bike! You can't forget!"
Tim began to swing back and forth. At first, it was rather half-hearted at best, but after a few minutes, he was pumping more enthusiastically.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Higher and higher.
"I can go higher than you!" Danny called.
Tim made use of his longer legs to propel him higher by kicking off the ground.
"Hey! That's cheating!"
"You never said that I couldn't touch the ground," Tim retorted and then, let loose a sound Danny had never heard from him.
Tim laughed, not a hesitant, fearful laugh, but a true burst of laughter denoting happiness, humor. Danny felt as though he had done something amazing. His adoptive brother had laughed...and he, Danny McGee, had helped him do it.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Present...
"Well, Duck?"
Ducky looked up from the files he was comparing.
"There are details in this file I don't think Timothy has ever been told, Jethro."
"Like what?"
"Nora McGee was two months pregnant at the time of her death."
Gibbs' brain stuttered to an abrupt halt. "What?"
"She was pregnant. I'm would wager that Timothy has never known that. More was lost than even he knew."
"You going to tell him?"
"I see no reason to at this point."
"Good. What about the case?"
Ducky nodded. "Timothy is correct about some things, Jethro. While I find it implausible that this case is completely unrelated, it is not the same...and more than likely that is intentional."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because of the places where it's inaccurate. The same caliber of weapon was used in both murders. The murder took place in the bedroom, although all the bodies were moved after they were shot. This person dyed their hair as it was in the case of Levi and Nora McGee, but he intentionally posed them in each other's arms, with the gun between them. That is a statement, not merely copying."
"A statement of what?"
"I don't know. It depends on what the killer's connection to the Campbells is. Does he know them personally? There is a personal touch here, but is it because of the Campbells or because of the McGees? Whatever the case, our killer is sending a message to whomever investigates the crime. To us in point of fact."
"What if the message is supposed to be for McGee?"
"If the Campbells were killed to get Timothy to investigate? I find that unlikely...but a definite possibility."
"Well?"
"I don't know," Ducky admitted. He pulled out the crime scene photos from their current case. "The weapon has been placed between them and they were both shot in the heart, the seat of love and emotion. They were posed embracing each other but with the gun between them. Death has separated them. Murder has created a barrier between them. Love lost because of violence? Much depends on whether this crime was committed because of the Campbells or because of the McGees. I'm afraid I don't have enough information at the moment to be conclusive."
"Do you think this is about McGee?"
"I'm afraid that it looks as though it is, and that is bad enough."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Seventeen years ago...
After swinging for a while, Tim and Danny tried out the other toys on the playground, from the old teeter-totters to the slides, even the tetherball. Then, it was full dark and they headed back toward home before their parents could start worrying.
"Thanks, Danny."
"I should be thanking you for not making me look stupid."
A rare mischievous smile crossed Tim's lips. "I couldn't do that...only you can make you look stupid."
"You've been having too much therapy, Tim."
Tim's smile didn't disappear. "Not my fault. Danny?"
"Yeah?"
"What do you want to do?"
"Go home."
"No...I mean in school."
"Graduate?"
"I'm serious, Danny."
"You usually are."
"What do you want to study?"
"It'll be all generals to start out."
"But you know already, don't you," Tim pressed. "You already know what you want to study. You aren't telling, but you know."
"Yeah, I know."
"What?"
"It's a surprise," Danny said. "I'd rather talk about the fact that it's your birthday in two weeks and I know what you're going to be getting from Mom and Dad."
"What?"
"You're going to get a car, just like me."
Tim wasn't as excited as Danny had expected.
"I don't...really go places, Danny. I don't need a car."
"Sure you do. You're going to be sixteen! You've passed driver's ed."
"But I don't... A car is expensive."
"Hey, is my car a Rolls Royce? Of course it isn't. It's a cheap car they got a deal on. Sure, we don't need a car here on base, but when we go to college, we'll want to have a car to drive."
"You really think they'll give me a car?"
"Totally. Then, we can freak Mom out by pretending to race."
"What are you going to study, Danny?"
"I'll tell you after we graduate."
"Why are you hiding it?"
"Because." Danny grinned and kept walking.
"Danny?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think I'll ever remember?"
"If you need to, probably."
"But if I knew what happened...they could find out who killed my parents. Isn't that important?"
"I don't know. Is it?"
Tim sighed and looked at the house as they approached it. "I don't know. Maybe if I remembered, then I'd stop being so weird."
Danny could sense the shift toward dour topics. He put a casual arm across Tim's shoulders.
"Nah. You're just weird, Tim. That's not going to change. Anyone who knows computers as well as you do is weird."
"People know them better than I do."
"And they're weird. I don't care how rich Bill Gates and Steve Jobs are. They're still weird."
Tim laughed. "Okay."
"So don't worry about that. Weird people can still get rich."
"I don't care about being rich."
"What do you want then?"
Tim looked at Danny and then back at the house. "I want to be happy when I wake up in the morning."
Then, he walked ahead of Danny and went into the house.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Present...
Everything was ready. Ellis watched with a smile. Collateral damage. Unfortunate, but it looked like it would be necessary.
Tim McGee would get one more chance and then he'd be forced to tell what he knew.
