Chapter 14

"Dr. Levine?" Ducky asked.

"Yes. You're Timothy McGee's friends?"

"Yes. Can we see him?"

Dr. Levine's expression was serious but he nodded.

"This way. He's asleep at the moment, and I'll want to talk with you both before you talk with him, too. ...but I understand that you need to see him first."

Ducky and Gibbs walked down the hall, both feeling slightly apprehensive now, but neither spoke, waiting to worry or not based on what they saw.

...and when they saw Tim asleep on the bed...they were both worried. He was curled in a tight fetal position, and his expression was anything but relaxed. Tim looked like he was in agony. He was thin. His hair was shaggy. His clean-shaven face seemed strange in comparison to the rest of him.

"What's wrong with him?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing physical," Dr. Levine said softly. "Come with me. We're keeping an eye on him."

Reluctantly, Gibbs and Ducky followed Dr. Levine to his office.

"What is it, Dr. Levine?" Ducky asked.

"First...is Mr. McGee married by chance?"

Ducky and Gibbs looked at each other and then back at the doctor.

"No," Gibbs said.

"You're certain?"

"Completely."

"Why do you ask?" Ducky asked.

"He's wearing a ring on his left ring finger. He had it with him on the island and he's refused to let us take it off. I just wanted to be sure. No one who left him?"

"He's been crossed in love a few times," Ducky said, "but never to the degree of a marriage, nor even a proposal."

"All right. Well...physically, he has lost a lot of weight as you probably noticed. He had some deficiencies that we're ameliorating with the IVs. We're going to start him back on solid food tomorrow. It's going to be a slow process back to his regular eating habits, and I'd like to get him started on it before you take him on a long plane ride. I know what the food's like in airports and on planes. It's best to get him a bit more stable before that happens."

Ducky smiled. Gibbs did not.

"You said what was wrong with him wasn't physical."

"No. It's not. Not really. He told Patrick and the others that he ate seaweed and raw fish. That's not wonderful, but it's much better than he could have had. That was what kept him from starving, and there was apparently a storage of water there...stale but potable. Physically, he was quite fortunate, although he was obviously ill...and he did have some injuries which could be attributed to whatever it took for him to get fish and seaweed. I'm certain that couldn't have been easy for him on Sule Skerry. ...but mentally, emotionally...there is something wrong that I can't chalk up to isolation. A nurse found him last night, crying on the floor beside the window. Something happened to him that he's not telling. I don't know what it is. I don't know why he won't reveal it. I just know...that when he goes back, he will need to have professional help, and we don't have that here, and he will need time to deal with whatever it is. I'm hoping that your presence will at least help him...engage with the world again because he's not. He's hiding, and it has something to do with that pain you could see. This man, even though I don't know him from before this...his psyche is severely damaged and will need time and understanding in order to heal."

"We'll do our best, of course," Ducky said. "How long do you want to keep him here before we leave?"

"Tomorrow at the very least. Likely, two more days."

"Do you know where I could find the men who rescued him?" Gibbs asked.

Dr. Levine finally smiled. "If I know Michael and Gregor, they'll be at the pub by the pier, basking the glow of their brief moments of fame. Sigur will be there, too, but likely keeping to himself. He's had too many years of fishing to want attention now. I don't know if Patrick'll be there. He may or may not. He lives over on Westray, you know."

"I'd like to talk to them. Do you think they'd mind?"

"Not at all."

Gibbs looked at Ducky who just nodded.

"I'll stay with Timothy until he wakes up."

"How do I get to the pier?" Gibbs asked.

"That's easy enough. Go out front and ask for a ride. Tell them who you are and you'll get ten offers."

Gibbs did smile at that. "Thanks."

"Would it be allowed for me to stay with Timothy tonight?" Ducky asked as Gibbs left the room.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay in a hotel? There's one very close by, and I don't think he'll be waking up."

"Nevertheless...after believing him dead...I find I don't want to lose sight of him."

Dr. Levine smiled. "I understand. Go ahead."

Ducky stood and hurried back to Tim's room. Tim had not changed position. He was still in that contorted pose. Ducky pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. He stared at the tortured young man and then touched his arm...just to prove to himself that Tim was really there. Tim shivered slightly at the touch but didn't awaken.

"Timothy...you're alive."

That's all he could say for a while.

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

As Dr. Levine had promised, Gibbs had no shortage of offers to take him to the pub. He took one at random and was grateful. When they got to the pub, he looked around.

"Which one is Sigur?" he asked.

The man who'd brought him smiled. "Ah, figured out the most reliable one, have you?"

"Age before beauty," Gibbs said.

The man chortled. "Oh, indeed! Well, Michael's a good soul. He's just sitting with Gregor over there to keep him from embroidering too much. Actually, Gregor's a good soul, too. First one to volunteer on Patrick's pointless search. Patrick himself is good, but his wife needs him home."

"Sigur?" Gibbs repeated.

"Oh, course. Forgot. He's the old man there at the bar. He'll buy you a pint if you talk with him for more than a minute."

"Thanks."

"You'll be needing a ride back to the hospital after. Just give me a nod."

Gibbs smiled his thanks and headed to the old fisherman at the bar.

"Sigur?"

The man looked at him. "Who's asking?"

"Name's Jethro. I'm a friend of the man you pulled off Sule Skerry."

Instantly, Sigur's countenance changed. "Have a seat. What'll you have?"

"What are you having?"

"You ever have Orkney ale?"

"Nope."

"Sit down and try it, then," he said. "Marie, another Dragonhead over here for my friend, Jethro."

Marie set the pint in front of Gibbs and looked at him speculatively.

"You're here for the man they found."

Gibbs nodded.

"How is he?"

"Could be better...but he's alive."

She nodded, understanding what he meant and then went back to her more lively customers.

"You don't seem as happy as they are about it," Gibbs said, sipping at the ale.

Sigur shrugged. "You don't celebrate pulling a man from the depths of Hell until you're sure you've actually done it. I'm not so sure we've really saved him."

"That's what I wanted to ask you about."

"Figured. You've seen him, haven't you?"

"Yeah."

Sigur nodded. "He was haunted by something. When he looked at us, it was like we were staring at him from another world...and I don't know that he's actually come back to ours. I think he's still more than half in his own."

"What happened?"

"Not much on the surface. Gregor saw him first. Then, I looked and saw him. We went to the skerry, and he kept shaking head in answer to every question we asked him. I asked him if he was thirsty and he shook his head, but when I gave him a canteen, he nearly drowned himself trying to drink. Asked him if he was cold. He shook his head, but acted like he was freezing when we gave him a blanket. There was one thing he said to us that I still can't figure out."

"What?"

"I asked him his name. He said that names don't matter. You know what that means?"

Gibbs shook his head.

"Nor I. I figured he was just in shock at being rescued, but he didn't seem happy about it, not at any time. Then...no one's told you what he did on the boat, have they."

"No. I don't know any of the details."

"He nearly jumped out of it, saying he had to...get somewhere. Begged us to let him go. I think he was half asleep and not really sure where he was, but he was in right swivet. Tense and shaking until I calmed him down a bit. If I were to describe him in a phrase, I'd say he's messed up in the head. I don't know if he's crazy, but he's messed up. There are stories about Sule Skerry, but they're rubbish."

"What stories?"

"Selkies, Jethro. Selkies. That song everyone knows...even your friend. He was humming it in his daze. The song was written down in the nineteenth century, but it's older than that. No one knows just how old. Sule Skerry is a dwelling place for the selkies. Now...selkie just means seal, but it's come to mean the seal people, beings that can come on land, shed their seal skins and be human beings. That place has been uninhabited for thirty years. If we hadn't gone out there, your friend wouldn't have seen hide nor hair of anyone until the bird watchers came...and I don't think he'd have lasted. He may have seen the seals. When we got there, the puffins were there, but no seals."

Sigur took another drink.

"No matter. Whatever it was that changed him, your friend won't be fine with a couple of days rest or I don't know anything at all...and I'm pretty smart."

"What do you think's wrong with him?"

"I think something happened...either before he got to Sule Skerry or after. Something he's unwilling to share. I think he's stuck with that...whatever it is. I think it's not going to get better for him for a long time. He was feeling pain."

"Doc said physically he's all right."

"Doc can say what he likes. There are other ways of feeling pain. Real pain. Just because a man doesn't have a bloody wound, doesn't mean he's not still bleeding."

Gibbs nodded. He knew the feeling.

"Thanks for the ale."

"Anytime...oh, and Jethro?"

"Yeah?"

"You hear him start mumbling about getting away...start watching him close. That's when he starts doing strange things."

"I'll remember that."

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

When Gibbs got back to the hospital, Ducky was drowsing in the chair. They decided they'd trade off and get a room in the nearby hotel. Gibbs sent Ducky to sleep first and he sat in the vacated seat. Tim was still curled in that awkward position, and Gibbs resigned himself to a long night.

...it was a long night...but not for the reason he'd expected.

About two in the morning, Tim suddenly sat up in bed. He was breathing irregularly and whimpering. Gibbs came awake with a start.

"McGee?"

"Got to...get away...help...need...help..."

Remembering Sigur's warning, Gibbs became wary, but Tim's sudden burst of movement toward the window still took him by surprise. He flattened himself against it, almost clawing at it. The expression on his face was a terrible one of pain and longing. Gibbs grabbed him and pulled him back. Tim was surprisingly strong for someone who looked so weak.

"Let...go! ...have to...now...please...the sea. ...the sea..."

"I've got you, Tim. It's okay. Calm down. You're all right."

Still, Tim strained to get away from him. His pleas became outright shrieks as he begged Gibbs to let him go. Go where...Gibbs didn't know, but he had no intention of letting Tim go anywhere in his current state.

"No! No! Can't...Can't...do it! No! Can't...fight back...too strong!"

"Fight who? Fight who, Tim?"

"Help...help me...need you...please..."

"Tim..."

Then, Tim let out a wordless cry and doubled over, nearly dragging Gibbs down with him.

"Too late...always...always too late...never...never make it...can't make it."

Tim's hand grabbed Gibbs' shirt and clenched into a tight fist.

"Tell me...it'll go away."

"It'll go away, Tim," Gibbs said, having no idea what he was telling him.

"It won't...always...always comes back..."

Tim began to cry, not silently, nor gently. But gasping, noisy sobs that made Gibbs wonder just where this degree of agony was coming from.

"Not...far enough..." he whimpered.

Then, Tim surprised Gibbs by looking at him.

"Boss..."

The large green eyes seemed to look right through him and then Tim shook his head and folded like a deck of cards...unconscious once more.

Gibbs got Tim back into bed and then sat beside him, holding his hand through the rest of the night.