Chapter 12

One month later...

Tim was sitting, waiting for Damien, his physical therapist. He was staring at his feet. Physical therapy was the one place where he now allowed himself to focus on them. The red scars were fading to white. The skin was mostly fine. He hadn't had any trouble with lesions yet, although he'd been warned to expect them to flare up occasionally as he started exerting himself more.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"You ready?"

"Can I ask you something before we get started today?"

"Of course."

Tim took a breath. He was afraid of the answer to this question, but he decided that he needed to hear it, good or bad.

"Based on what I've done so far...will I be able to run and do the same things I was doing before?"

"You mean as a federal agent?"

"Yeah."

Damien sat down.

"Honestly, I don't know."

"Why don't you know? It's been months. Shouldn't you have some idea of how much further I'll get?"

"It's always hard to judge just how much heavy physical activity any person is going to get. Some are running. Some are barely walking."

"I'm not talking about any person," Tim said. "I'm talking about me."

"I know that. Part of the problem is that it's only in the last couple of weeks that we've been able to start pushing a little harder. The fact that your amputation was due to frostbite means that there are a lot of other factors involved. We had to wait for the skin to grow back to the extent it would. We had to wait for the skin to toughen up. Your sprained right ankle...Tim, I'm not saying that you won't, but I can't give you a definite declaration."

"Okay...so...do you think that I will?"

Damien smiled. "Tim, do you want to?"

"Of course!"

"No. I want you to think about this. You've had a lot of problems dealing with your amputation. If you want to fully regain your mobility, it's going to take time, effort, and it's likely that there will be pain involved. Adjusting your gait to walking is relatively easy. Running is harder. There's a bigger chance that you'll have issues with lesions, possible failure of the tissue. It's something you have to be willing to deal with. Are you sure that's what you want to do?"

Tim stared at his feet. It was true. He had been struggling for a long time with it. Was he ready for the difficulty to increase when he was only barely tolerating his new situation?

Damien didn't rush him. It had been a genuine question and he wanted a real answer. Tim saw now that he needed to give a real answer.

Is that what I really want or is it just me still wanting to go back in time?

No. Tim wanted to reclaim his life and part of that required getting back to his job.

"This is what I want," he said finally. "...but I can't guarantee that I won't get discouraged."

Damien smiled.

"That's not required, Tim. What is required is real effort. As long as you do that, believe it or not, you'll make it as far as is possible. But if you're not really trying because you're not believing it's possible, then, you won't."

Tim nodded.

"Okay. I want to try."

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

Tim didn't tell his friends about his new determination to be physically prepared for a return to work. They knew he was still going to physical therapy, but they didn't know he was starting to run. He was afraid to tell them...in case things didn't pan out. A bad attitude, probably, but he needed to have some time when he was just dealing with it, not having everyone else trying to help him deal with it.

Damien had been right. It was hard. It was painful sometimes, and he wanted to give up sometimes. It was so hard learning how to balance and run normally on his toeless feet. He lost his balance more than once, but he kept trying. When the ground was uneven, it was a lot harder, more painful, and he tripped more. When he had to change direction suddenly, he was more liable to lose his balance. ...but still, he kept trying, determined to prove that he hadn't lied.

What he didn't notice was that there was an attitude shift that happened as he became focused on recovering, rather than on lamenting the event that had put him in that situation. He was less despondent. He was more confident. He just seemed...surer about himself. No one knew exactly why. They just saw it. Tim himself didn't realize that he was doing exactly what everyone had hoped he would. He just knew that he couldn't let his life get away from him if it was there to be grasped.

...and finally, Gibbs became determined to figure out what had caused the change.

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

Tim sat on his bed and looked at the shoes he'd just pulled on. He was going to go running for the first time away from physical therapy. Just a little ways, not a hard run. He was nervous. He was terrified that he'd completely fall apart without Damien's support, but Damien wouldn't always be there. It was something he had to do. He couldn't put this off for another week. He had promised Damien that he'd do it. Jethro was excited to go out with him...which also made Tim worried. He hoped his dog wouldn't pull him right over.

He took a deep breath and stood up, taking stock of how sturdy he felt. The orthotics were something he still took conscious note of. He could feel them, but thankfully, they weren't irritating or painful. Standing here, he felt almost normal. Not quite, but almost. He had no problem with maintaining his balance, no problem with pain in his feet. He was just standing.

"Jethro, are you ready?"

Jethro was more than ready if his antics were any indication. This would be the first time Tim had taken Jethro out for anything more than a quick trip to do his business.

"Remember, Jethro...I'm setting the pace, not you. No jerking the leash and running off after cats or birds or anything else, got it?"

Jethro barked at him.

"That had better be the German shepherd equivalent of 'yes, master'," Tim said with what he hoped was a severe look.

Jethro was uncowed, but he didn't jump up on Tim as he might have done in other circumstances. Maybe he did realize there was a need for restraint. Maybe.

With one more deep breath, Tim clipped on Jethro's leash and walked out of his apartment. He carefully navigated down the stairs and out to the sidewalk.

"Okay, Jethro. Let's go. Slowly!"

Tim started to jog. To his distinct relief, Jethro kept pace rather than trying to drag him along. They took a slow circuit around a couple of blocks. Tim felt almost winded, mostly because he hadn't been able to run this much in ages. He didn't feel quite stable, but he didn't feel like he was going to fall over. The orthotics were keeping the rubbing down on the ends of his feet. The ankle brace on his right leg was allowing him to maintain his stability.

As he rounded the corner and headed back to his apartment, Jethro suddenly started barking at someone...and pulling at the leash. Tim was too tired to keep his balance and he let go of the leash, but that wasn't enough to keep him on his feet and he tripped and tumbled to the sidewalk. He was smart enough not to try and catch himself with his hands, but he couldn't stop from landing on his knees...which were still a bit sensitive after the tissue loss. He rolled over onto his back after he landed and just breathed for a few seconds, trying not to cry.

"McGee, you all right?" a voice called.

Jethro came back and nuzzled Tim, whining a little.

"Thanks a lot, Jethro..." Tim said. "You're supposed to take it slow...remember? What was that?" He started thinking about getting up.

"Tim."

Tim squinted up and then groaned inwardly.

"Hi, Boss," he said with a pained smile. "I guess you're the reason Jethro took off like a crazed animal."

Gibbs leaned over him.

"You all right?"

"I will be...once the throbbing stops," Tim said. "My knees aren't what they used to be."

Gibbs smiled and held out a hand.

"You ready to get up?"

"Yeah."

Tim put out his hand and was belatedly relieved when Gibbs grabbed him by the wrists. His hands were much better off than the rest of his damaged parts, but they still were a bit sensitive. When he regained his feet, he staggered and Gibbs put a supportive arm around his waist.

"Sorry, Boss. Off balance," he muttered.

Off balance and in pain. His legs really hurt right now.

"Stupid dog," he muttered in a low voice.

Jethro whined and dropped his head...and Tim relented...of course. He couldn't stay mad at his dog. He bent over and scratched Jethro's head and then let Gibbs start them back to his apartment. He could feel some blood running down his legs from his close encounter with the sidewalk.

"So...how long have you been running, Tim?"

"Out here or at physical therapy?"

"Either."

"Out here...just today. In therapy...a couple of weeks. I've been working toward it."

Tim stumbled. It was like his balance had been completely thrown off by the fall. ...or maybe it was just that his knees were still throbbing from the pain.

"You didn't tell anyone?"

"No, I didn't."

Gibbs didn't respond. He just helped Tim back to his apartment. Up the stairs and then he sat him down and helped patch him up. Tim let him.

"Thanks, Boss," he said softly.

"Why didn't you tell us what you were doing?"

"In case I failed," Tim said. "In case I couldn't do it. I didn't want anyone to know that I'd tried and failed."

"You think we would have been disappointed?"

"No. I didn't want..." Tim looked at his shoes, at the ankle brace. "I didn't want pity."

"Tim...what are you worried about?"

"I don't want to be different from how I was before," Tim said. "My body is different. I don't want me to be different. I want to be who I was...but I'm afraid that I won't be...and if I'm not, I don't want the others to see me trying and failing. So I wanted to try first...and then..."

"And then, what? How would you tell us that you'd been hiding your attempts?"

Tim looked up.

"I was hoping that you'd all just be happy for me."

"We are, Tim. You've been a lot better the last few weeks. I should have known that it was because you were finally focusing on something other than being depressed."

Tim smiled a little.

"...but did you really think that it would be better to do this on your own without letting us be there?"

"It's selfish, I guess, but I really wanted to see for myself before I told anyone."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How is it going?"

"How is what going?"

Gibbs smiled. "Your running."

"Oh...it's going...pretty well. I need the ankle brace on my right foot. No toes...plus the sprain didn't heal as well as it could have. ...but I can run. I'm going to look into a silicone prosthesis on my left foot. It's expensive and insurance won't cover it all, but I think it'll be worth it. Damien thinks it'll give me more stability. It takes a long time because they have to get it fitted and shaped right...but it could be an improvement."

"So...last word on this?"

"I think I'll be able to...keep my job," Tim said and smiled a little. "I hope."

"That's great."

"Boss..."

"You're still afraid, aren't you."

"Yeah. Every step of the way, I'm afraid that something else is going to go wrong. Damien has been frustrated about it, I know. I just can't stop being afraid of it. ...and I'm a little worried that it might hold me back...at work, later. Boss, I could have died when I had a tumor. I could have died when I was lost in Shenandoah...somehow, not even knowing what happened. What's going to happen next?"

"Have you been back to Shenandoah since the winter?"

Tim shook his head.

"It scares me."

"Then, let's go."

"What?"

"Let's go. To Shenandoah."

"Now?"

"You doing anything else?"

Tim looked at his bandaged knees and then down to his feet. He lifted his hands up and stared at them. All these things that had happened in a place he had formerly really wanted to see.

"I don't want to go back there."

"That's why you need to."

"Isn't running good enough?" Tim asked, feeling more than a little fear.

"Not if you're worried about your mind holding you back."

Jethro walked over and put his front paws on Tim's legs. He stared soulfully at Tim and Tim couldn't help but smile at the attention.

"What is it, Jethro? It's okay. I'm fine."

Jethro licked his face and Tim laughed.

"Okay."

"Tim?" Gibbs asked.

Tim looked up again.

"Okay, Boss. I'll go with you. Just let me change."

"Okay."