CHAPTER TWELVE

Gibbs strode to the doors to autopsy, then paused. He peered through the glass and spotted McGee slumped on a cot near Ducky's desk. He looked a hundred years old. Gibbs clenched his jaw. Damn that Admiral McGee. How could he not see the strengths in his son? Gibbs would give anything to have his own daughter back, and it infuriated him to see a parent treat his child so callously.

Tim was by far the most sensitive of his team. After watching him interact with his father, Gibbs now better understand the insecurities that plagued his agent. Tim had come a long way in the years since Gibbs took him under his wing, but he'd spent most of his life never measuring up to his father's expectations.

Gibbs sighed. He dreaded going in there. Vance had caught him as he was leaving the conference room and as Gibbs feared, Tim would be suspended from duty until an inquiry could be held. The admiral had no shortage of strings he could pull to get what he wanted.

Well, there was no used putting it off. Opening the doors, he strode over to McGee. Tim barely glanced up at him.

"McGee, you okay?"

Tim wouldn't meet his gaze. Just nodded dumbly as he picked at the bandage on his injured hand.

"Tim, look at me."

Slowly, Tim lifted his head and met Gibbs' eyes. Gibbs frowned. McGee had the look of a whipped dog. Gibbs sighed again.

"C'mon, McGee. Let's go find someplace a little more private. We need to talk."

Again, McGee said nothing but rose and silently followed Gibbs out of autopsy, into the elevator, and finally back to the conference room.

"Sit."

McGee sat. Gibbs slid into the seat across from him. He'd heard Admiral McGee and Lt. Owens' stories, now he needed to hear from McGee what had happened at the safe house.

"Okay, Tim, I need to know what happened today. Every detail. Can you do that?"

Tim swallowed, still refusing to meet Gibbs' eyes. "Yes."

"Alright. Start at the beginning. What were you doing at the safe house?"

McGee's eyes became unfocused for a moment, then he blinked and rubbed his forehead. "I…uh, well, I wanted to talk to my dad. Try and clear the air between us. I, um…well, I just thought maybe if I took the first step he'd…." He trailed off, his voice low with misery.

"He'd come around?"

McGee gave a small bitter smile. He then continued, his voice almost a monotone. "Yeah. Well, anyway, I drove over there, parked across the street and then walked to the front door. I rang the bell and identified myself. Agent Carter opened the door. I spoke with her for a moment then suddenly…" he frowned obviously trying to remember the jumbled order of events that followed. "Well, she cried out, grabbed her neck and fell down. Then Morales appeared and he did the same thing. I didn't know what happened. I…I think I heard a noise behind me but when I started to turn, someone shoved me into the house."

McGee paused, rubbing his head again. Must be the headache, thought Gibbs watching him. Gibbs stood and went over to the water cooler, returning with a cup of water. He placed it in front of McGee.

"Then what happened?"

McGee frowned. "It was kind of confused after that. I eventually realized it was Yancy and Jenson. They decided I might be useful, so gagged me and tied my hands behind my back. Um, Jenson went to check one of the rooms when Owens appeared. Jenson hit in the head with a gun. I thought maybe he was dead. There was blood."

Gibbs nodded encouragingly. "You're doing great. Keep going."

McGee absently sipped his water. "They, um, dragged me along and burst into Dad's room. Yancy and Dad started to argue. Yancy and Jenson felt like they'd been gypped when the Navy took over Antares. Like they could have made a lot of money from it. They blamed Dad and said they wanted to kill him."

Tim's eyes grew distant as his face paled with some inner pain. Gibbs could easily guess where that pain originated.

"Tony said he found you lying on the floor next to Yancy's body. How did that happen?"

Tim gave his head a slight shake as if to dispel his unhappy thoughts. "Um. Jenson punched me and knocked me down. I guess that's when Owens showed up because there was shooting, and then Yancy was on the floor next to me. And more shooting, and I think I heard glass break. Dad left with Lt. Owens to take care of his head. I…um…guess he forgot about me."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. Being left trussed up and left next to a dead body was more than a simple case of the admiral being distracted. His father purposefully and maliciously left Tim there. Gibbs felt his anger ratchet up another notch. It was a good thing the admiral was nowhere within reach.

"But, it doesn't matter," continued McGee quickly. "I deserved it. Dad was almost killed because of me. It's a good thing Lt. Owens was there or we'd all be dead."

Gibbs wanted to reach out and shake McGee. The younger man had convinced himself that it was all his fault, that he deserved to be treated so horribly. It was like watching him morph back into the nervous, insecure McGee of eight years ago. Like Ziva and Tony, he really wanted to go and beat the crap out that bastard admiral.

Now Gibbs regarded Tim thoughtfully. He had to handle this with care. Tim's mental state was very fragile right now. He had little doubt that Tim would quietly and willingly accept his suspension as his just due and in Gibbs' mind that was far worse than if he protested against it. He sighed again.

"Tim, I don't know any easy way to say this, so I'll just tell you straight out. The admiral has requested your suspension until an official inquiry into this incident can be conducted. The director fought it, but well, as I'm sure you know, your father usually gets what he wants."

Tim gave that same bitter smile once more. "Yes, he does." Suddenly, Tim frowned and for the first time, he looked directly at Gibbs.

"Why? Why do I let him get to me like this? I know I'm a good agent. I know my job. But, I've done nothing but screw up since the minute my father showed up here. It's like I'm seven years old again. Now, I feel like crap. But why? He doesn't need me. It's obvious he's found a more suitable replacement. Why can't I let it go?"

His mouth snapped shut as a flush spread across his haggard features. He looked mortified, as if he had revealed some deep, dark secret.

"Tim, he's your dad. We all want our parents to think the best of us, to love us and show us they care. You looked up to your father, tried to make him proud, but you're not him. You're your own person and your strengths and abilities are different from his. I'm not sure he can accept that."

Tim ran a shaking hand across his eyes. "All I've ever wanted is his respect. I was a good kid. I got good grades, went to top notch schools, but that wasn't good enough for him. He wanted me to go to the Naval Academy. I knew I wouldn't last a day there, but he refused to accept that. He thought I was just running away from another challenge. But it wasn't that. I would never been accepted. I've got the brains, but I'm not exactly athletic." He looked down at his hands.

Gibbs shook his head. No, McGee wouldn't have lasted long under the strict military regimen of the Naval Academy. But parents aren't always willing to give up their dreams even when faced with the realities of their child's abilities. McGee was intellectually gifted, there was no doubt about that. He flourished in an environment that challenged his mind and his creativity. That was part of what made him such an effective hacker. He was about as cut out for a military career as Gibbs was for one in hairstyling. But Admiral McGee was blind to this.

"Tim, I wish I didn't have to take you off the case. I believe Director Vance did his best to prevent it. But don't worry. It won't be for long. I can't afford to have one of my team off on some extended vacation."

McGee tried to smile. "I appreciate that, Boss, I really do, but it's probably just as well. I've done nothing but screw up this case from day one. It's probably better if I'm not involved. Next time, Lt. Owens might not be around to save the day." He sighed. "Maybe it would just be better if I resigned."

Gibbs' anger flared. "Listen to me, McGee. Maybe you screwed up when you went to the restaurant alone, but still, you knew Tony and Ziva were there. What happened at the safe house was not your fault. There were two other agents there and they didn't stop Jenson or Yancy either."

"But I should have done something!"

"Like what exactly? You're injured and were taken by surprise by two armed men. They bound you and gagged you. Carter and Morales were drugged. They're the ones that were technically responsible for the admiral's safety. Should they resign too?"

Tim shook his head in confusion. "No…but… but I'm the one that led Yancy and Jenson there. It was because of me, they were able to get into the house."

"Did you purposefully plant a tracker in your arm? Did you call them up and send them an invitation to join you at the safe house?" McGee seemed to wilt further. Gibbs gritted his teeth.

There were times when McGee took his sense of responsibility too far. Gibbs could admire that in a man. To a point. McGee was so worried about people thinking he was trying to shirk his duty, he could overreact. Gibbs had lost count of how many times McGee had offered to resign over some perceived dereliction of duty.

Gibbs sighed. "Listen, Tim. I understand how you feel, but your resignation is not going to help anyone. In fact, it would just prove your father right. That you aren't cut out for this. But you and I both know that isn't true. Don't give him the satisfaction."

Tim rubbed his head again and was silent for a long moment. Finally he nodded. "Okay." He said it so softly, Gibbs just barely caught the word.

Gibbs stood up. "If nothing else, the time off will give your ribs a chance to heal properly. When you get back, I want you back on full duty. Not just tied to your desk. We need you, Tim."

McGee looked up and Gibbs inwardly winced to see the doubt and pain still there in McGee's eyes. Then he gave Gibbs a half-hearted smile as he stood. "Thanks Boss. I appreciate that."

Gibbs gave him an encouraging smile and held the door open. "C'mon, Tim. Let's go."

Tim nodded again and stood. It was indeed, time to go.

xxxx

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Here's the next chapter. Thanks for your patience!