Chapter 20

Zahara was sitting up, waiting for Tim to get home. Tamara had retreated to the spare room, claiming that she was tired. Zahara was not tired. She was wanting to know why Tim had decided he needed to talk to Dr. Hicks tonight. He was very careful about his mental health, and if he was changing things up, it was because he was worried.

Then, she heard the keys in the door and she quickly got up and went into the kitchen to start warming up his dinner. Tim didn't ask her to do this for him, but she would never dream of not making sure he had a good dinner.

"Marhāba, Tim," she said as soon as the door opened. "Come and eat."

Tim smiled at her and set down his bag, removed his badge and locked his gun. Then, he walked over and kissed her forehead. Zahara hugged him.

"I'm so glad to be home," he said, softly.

"What happened?"

"Let me eat, first," he said. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm eating."

"Very well. I made couscous for Tamara. She had never had the real thing."

Tim chuckled. "A lot of Americans probably haven't."

Zahara set out a plate and Tim dug in with gusto. She was always happy to know that Tim enjoyed what she cooked. He'd never complained outright about it, although he'd expressed a preference for one dish or another.

"What did you do today?" he asked as he ate.

"Tamara needed to speak. So I let her. She told me a lot about Levi, the man he was before. Do you know much of it?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I know what he's trying to be, not necessarily who he was in the past. Was he normal?"

Zahara smiled and shook her head. "Even with what Tamara said, I feel that he was always a little different, but it was different in a good way...and for Tamara, it became different in a bad way later."

Tim nodded. "Yeah. He felt that way, too. Only he would never admit it, probably not even to himself."

"I can see that. Is there anything that you need to tell Tamara?"

"No. Not really. We've got a new lead that we're going to start following tomorrow. Hopefully, it leads somewhere useful. I don't know how much time he could have left."

"You will find him," Zahara said, firmly. "I know that you will find him. And find him in time."

Tim smiled and reached over to squeeze her hand.

"I'm going to do my best."

Then, he finished eating and they both sat in silence. After he finished, he carried the plate over to the sink and rinsed it off. Instead of the usual ritual of him putting it in the dishwasher only for Zahara to remove it later, he set it in the sink and turned around.

"I'm probably going to have nightmares tonight," he said seriously. "I hope I don't, but I can't imagine that I'll be able to avoid it, not with what happened today."

Zahara stood up and walked over to him.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened to me, but I learned some things that... I'm...unsettled."

"Unsettled?" Zahara repeated. That word, based on her understanding of it, did not fit with Tim's tone.

Tim smiled a little. "Okay. I'm scared. I'll admit it. I got scared today."

Zahara pulled him to the couch and they sat down.

"Why? What scared you?"

Tim sighed. Zahara knew that he didn't want to talk about it, but she appreciated that he was.

"One of the people involved in this...reminded me of what happened to me in Saudi Arabia...before Suhayl saved me. And there was a time when I was afraid of leaving NCIS because I didn't feel safe anywhere but there. And I felt that way today for the first time in years. That's why I went to Dr. Hicks tonight. I can't afford to let myself fall back into that mindset again."

Zahara hesitated. She knew that Tim hated to share details of what he had gone through. She knew that what he had told her barely scratched the surface of the pain he had felt, the trauma he had barely lived through, the damage to his body and his mind. ...but she also knew that she wanted to know more so that she could help him when these things came up. She had begun to see that they would, probably for the rest of Tim's life. Better that she know.

"Tell me, Tim."

He looked at her and then began to rub her hands between his.

"I don't want to," he said, softly.

"I know, but please, tell me. I am not asking for everything. What was it about this man that made you think of that time?"

"He killed people who trusted him, apparently just because he wanted to. There was a man who was in charge of beating me. The one who was the leader almost never touched me. It was...this other man. He beat my feet. He had done it before, but before Suhayl saved me, I knew he was going to do it because he wanted to. I would have to feel it and feel it and feel it because it wouldn't kill me, no matter how much I wanted it to. The damage it caused would never be fatal. I screamed, even though I didn't think I could. It was going to hurt...forever."

Tim stopped for a moment and let out a loud exhale. Zahara squeezed Tim's hands, encouraging him to finish without interrupting.

"And he was glad that he was hurting me. That's what I was remembering. It was so awful that I remember every second of that time before Suhayl saved me. Before he'd decided whether or not he would save me, I begged him to save me or kill me, and I didn't care which he chose. It still scares me, Zahara. Once I thought of it, I couldn't forget it."

Zahara cupped her hand around Tim's cheek. He closed his eyes and she brushed her fingers over the scars around his eye, one of the many reminders of the life her husband had lived and still lived.

"I hate to see you afraid," she said softly. "But I am glad that you told me. I can see why you would have a nightmare from it. Perhaps, I could help you stop it before it comes."

"Doing what?" Tim asked, opening his eyes. He smiled at her, although the fear was still in his eyes.

"I will sing to you. That is what you asked me to do in the desert. You said that it would help you then. It will help now. Help you to sleep."

"I've never minded hearing you sing," Tim said, still smiling.

"Good. Are you ready for bed?"

"Yes. It's been a long day."

Zahara stood and pulled Tim to his feet.

"Then, come. Do not be afraid of sleep. Sleep is a good thing."

Tim put his arm around her.

"I know, and sleeping next to you is a very good thing."

Zahara smiled. Together, they walked into the bedroom, got ready and then slipped under the covers. Zahara moved close to Tim and he put his arms around her. She could feel his heart beating too quickly. She could feel his anxiety and she thought of what she could sing to him that would help him relax and sleep without the dreams that plagued him. Given what he was remembering, she decided not to sing anything in Arabic. He didn't need that reminder. Then, she thought of a lullaby her mother used to sing to her. It was Spanish and she softly hummed the tune for a minute or two. Then, she began to sing the words very softly, just barely above a whisper.

"Arrorró mi niño,

arrorró mi sol,

arrorró pedazo,

de mi corazón."

She continued through the verses and back to the chorus, singing slowly and softly, wanting to help Tim relax so much that he would sleep through the night without dreaming of the horrible things he'd experienced. She paused once, thinking of the words to a verse that wouldn't really apply and into the silence, Tim spoke. Just two words.

"Te amo," he whispered and kissed her hair.

Zahara smiled. Tim's Spanish wasn't very extensive. His Arabic wasn't very extensive, but he did try.

"Te amo," she whispered back.

Then, she sang the chorus once more.

"Arrorró mi niño,

arrorró mi sol,

arrorró pedazo,

de mi corazón."

Tim's heartbeat was slow and steady. Zahara fell asleep hearing him breathe and feeling his heart.

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

Daniel sat quietly, waiting. It was late, but sometimes, that's what it took.

Another ten minutes and the door opened. The man coming out raised an eyebrow at him and then nodded. Daniel stood up and walked with him away from the building.

"So what's this about?" he asked.

"Marc Logan," Daniel said, bluntly.

"Logan? He's been out of sight for years. Why now?"

"He's back in sight," Daniel said.

"Wait a second. You were on his team...when it all went down. What do you need from me?"

"To know more about him."

"Why? What can you get from me that you can't get from his file or from what you know yourself?"

Daniel raised an eyebrow. That was a stupid question and they both knew it. Then, the man looked away from him.

"What do you want?"

"I know you wouldn't have known it at the time, but what about with hindsight?" Daniel asked.

Again, there wasn't a need to ask what he meant. Marc Logan's actions would automatically lead to people thinking about where it had come from.

"With hindsight, yeah."

"Meaning?"

"He liked killing things. Not people, although he never seemed bothered by it when it happened, but he'd kill animals, bugs, in a way that you knew he was enjoying the process. I remember once, we were in South America. There was this big spider that had come into our camp. Instead of just squashing it or shooing it away or something like that, he trapped it and then roasted it to death over the fire. The rest of us just thought he was weird, but he was always good at his job, so we didn't think much about it. At least, I didn't. But..."

"But what?"

"But I requested a transfer after I watched him interrogate a guy. I don't think I need to give you the details, but I made a report of what happened and asked to be transferred to a different team. I never would have guessed he'd go off like he did, though. It's a big step to go from being overly harsh on the enemy to killing your allies."

"He doesn't really have allies, though, does he," Daniel said. "It's not about alliances. It's about using people until he doesn't need to."

"Yeah. That fits."

"One last thing," Daniel said.

"What?"

"Do you know of any places he would go in this area?"

"No. We weren't friends, you know. He was the team lead. That's all. I never spent time with him when I didn't have to."

"Okay."

They started to part ways. Daniel got ten steps away.

"Wait."

Daniel turned back.

"Yeah?"

"There's someone else you could ask...if you can find her."

"Who?"

"She was CIA, but she left years ago. Everyone thought that she and Logan were a thing, but neither of them would admit to it. If you could find where she went, you could ask her."

"Who is she?"

"Name is Janell Riggins. I don't know where she is, haven't heard from her since she left, but she was gone from the CIA before Logan disappeared."

Daniel nodded.

"Thanks."

"I didn't tell you this stuff, right?"

"Right."

"Good. And good luck. Don't let Logan see you."

"Not in my plans," Daniel said.

The man nodded and walked away. Daniel kept walking back to his car, but he felt the hairs on his neck standing on end. Logan was someone he would have been happy never to think about again, but he wasn't going to leave Carew in his hands. That was a place no human being should ever be.

Janell Riggins. Somewhere to go next.

But maybe it was time to get some sleep.

Daniel headed back to the hotel he'd been staying in to maybe get some sleep. ...or else stew about Logan more.

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

Tim woke up with a start, breathing in deeply as he escaped from the dream he'd been having. It was dark, but when he looked at his clock, he was glad to see that it was after four. He'd managed to sleep through most of the night without being disturbed by nightmares, and he hadn't screamed in his sleep, either. That was a definite plus. He looked at Zahara who was still sleeping deeply and he smiled. Nightmare or not, he still loved to see her. He loved to look at her and he loved that he was able to love her.

For a few minutes, he just lay there, looking at his wife, amazed that she was his wife, grateful for the life he had. Then, as quietly and carefully as he could, he eased himself out of bed and walked out of the room, to the balcony. Jethro woke up when he came into the main room and padded over to him.

Quickly, Tim knelt down and petted him.

"Keep quiet, Jethro," he whispered. "We don't want to wake anyone up yet."

Jethro made some soft whuffling sounds in his throat but didn't bark. Tim opened the door to the balcony and sat down, staring out at the Metro area around him. Jethro settled down beside him, panting softly.

As Tim looked out on the world that was still mostly sleeping, he suddenly thought back to another time, another view. Back when he had been in Idaho, trying to recover from the physical and mental assaults that had almost killed him. He and Tony had been sitting out on the deck of the fancy house after he'd had a nightmare, and he had lamented not being able to have a normal life. Tony had told him that he needed to think of a new normal, a life that would still allow him to be happy, even if he couldn't have what he used to have. Ziva had said just the day before that what he had now was normal...for him. And it was true.

"That's what I have now, Jethro," he said softly. "A new normal that lets me be happy. It's not perfect, but no life is. What I have is...my normal. I have a wonderful wife. I have a home. I have a job. I have friends."

Jethro whuffled again. Tim chuckled.

"I have a dog, too. If there are still some things that I struggle with and that I wish were different, the good stuff makes up for it."

He sat there on the balcony in silence, staring out. He didn't sleep, but he did doze a little bit, feeling a breeze and Jethro resting his head on Tim's knee.

After a time, he felt arms around him from behind and a soft kiss on his cheek.

"How long have you been out here?" Zahara whispered. "I didn't hear you get up."

"I woke up after just after four."

"A nightmare?"

"Yeah, but I slept through most of the night without one," Tim said. He took hold of her left hand with his left hand, clicking their rings together. "I can't complain about that."

"You could."

Tim smiled. "I guess I could, but I won't. I got enough sleep and you kept the nightmares away for most of the night."

He turned around so that he could see her.

"I love my life, Zahara," he said. "I love you, and I love what I have, the people in my life. I don't regret it. I might wish that I could have everything be perfect, but I am happy, even if I can't be happy all the time."

Zahara knelt down so that she could look into his eyes. She looked searchingly at him, checking to see if he was trying to hide anything from her. He met her gaze without flinching. Again, she reached out and brushed her fingers over the scars around his left eye. Tim reached out and cupped his hand on her cheek. Then, he leaned forward and kissed her.

"I am glad that the nightmare did..n't ruin your day," she said.

"It didn't," Tim said, smiling at her almost natural contraction.

"Then, it is time for you to run if you are going to do it before you go to work."

Tim took a deep breath and stood up, disturbing Jethro from his comfortable position.

"You're right."

They walked back into the main room and Tim headed for the bedroom to change into his running clothes. He decided that he would keep his run short so that he could go over to the NSA before heading to work. He wanted to see what was possible, if there was some way to track down their only solid lead before it was too late.