Chapter 21

Tim was awake, unfortunately. He had no idea how much time had passed between when he'd finally been able to pass out in the ambulance (one bad pothole had finally put him over the edge) and when he'd first regained consciousness in the quiet hospital room. He'd heard the doctor explaining to Abby that there was no permanent damage from either the knives or the electric shock, that Tim had been lucky Aisha had wanted to keep him alive. Tim felt that he might disagree with that. The pain was by no means as strong as it had been, but he still felt like every nerve ending in his body was queuing up to protest its recent treatment. In addition, there was a deep throbbing ache in his leg. The floaty feeling Tim had indicated the presence of some strong painkillers, and that made him dread the possibility of actually feeling the pain in its entirety again. Abby was now sitting quietly on a chair near the bed. Tim had thought a million times about opening his eyes and saying something, but the very idea of movement was exhausting. Instead, he'd just laid motionless, enjoying the feeling of not being killed.

"Tim? Are you awake?" Abby's voice was so timid and so shaken that Tim felt guilty about leaving her in suspense. Of all the things that he could still get wrong, this was the one he really didn't want.

He slowly lifted his eyelids and decided that someone must have attached heavy weights to them while he unconscious. "Hey, Abby." Hmmm, my voice is pretty soft. I'll have to work on that.

"Tim! Oh, good. I'm so glad you're alive!" Abby looked as though she wanted to fling her arms around him, but that she was resisting only with great effort. Tim was glad she was restraining herself.

"Me, too." His voice was about as slurred as it had been when Ziva got him drunk. "How's it goin'?"

She smiled. "Not bad. How about you?"

"Oh... you know, the usual: losing my job, people wanting to kill me, electrocution. Same old, same old." He managed to grin weakly. Then, he reached out his hand. Abby took it gently. "I'm sorry, Abby."

"Sorry? For what?"

"For what?" Tim was incredulous. "For throwing you out of my apartment. For avoiding you. For blowing you off."

"Tim, you're my friend. I won't pretend that didn't hurt, but what kind of a friend would I be if I let that be the end?"

"You... you're not mad?"

"Not anymore. I may store it up and use it against you if we fight again, but no, I'm not mad at you."

"Huh." Maybe the meds were clouding his thoughts, but she seemed to be sincere.

"You needn't sound so surprised," Abby said in amusement.

Tim shrugged and then regretted the action. "I guess I'm too used to doing everything wrong."

"But you didn't do anything wrong, Tim. Didn't you realize that when you sent me that email? Mark hacked us and erased the files. It wasn't you."

Tim's eyes opened wide. It seemed he'd been on the verge of realizing that it had been Mark, but he'd never quite got there. Everything had happened too quickly. "Really?"

"Really. He left you a message, obviously hoping you'd find it. I guess you got fired too soon. He didn't count on Madame Director."

Tim flushed. "I didn't either."

Abby just smiled. "He did the right thing in the end... sort of. He was trying to make it so that Sindhind Imports would be found out."

"I wish he'd succeeded," Tim mumbled. "...although on second thought that would have only made him worse."

Abby chuckled and started to answer when the door opened and Gibbs came in.

"Hey, Gibbs. Look who's rejoined the land of the living!"

"I see. I need to talk to him alone, and aren't visiting hours over anyway?" Gibbs said, apparently ignoring Tim completely.

Abby grinned. "You're not supposed to know that, Gibbs! I'd managed to avoid every nurse on this floor."

"McGee will still be here tomorrow, Abs. Get out of here."

"Ah, Gibbs! I haven't seen him in ages!" Abby said petulantly.

"Then, you can wait one more day. Go." Gibbs didn't seem angry or annoyed, but he was serious. Abby shrugged and leaned over Tim, planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

"See you tomorrow, Tim."

"Bye, Abby." Then, he looked anxiously at Gibbs who was in the act of taking Abby's vacated chair. "What is it, Boss? Did Aisha...?" That was a terrible thought. He didn't even want to voice his concern.

"No, McGee. Aisha Raphals is dead. She refused to stand down when we identified ourselves and would not drop her weapons after a warning shot."

"Oh." Tim considered that. How did that make him feel? "That's good." He didn't have to worry about her anymore and that was a very good feeling.

Gibbs pierced Tim with his gaze. There was a strange expression on his face, one Tim couldn't figure out. First of all, he didn't look angry, which was unexpected in and of itself. Second, he looked so deadly serious that Tim began to wonder if he was dying or something.

"Let me see if I understand this correctly. You made a list of all the people you thought wanted you dead, and that list included a psychotic killer, your former boss, and your friends. Is that right?"

Tim thought about trying to just sprint out of the room, leaving IVs dangling and heart monitors flatlining; however, that line of thought was quickly ended when he merely tensed the muscles in his leg and felt a sharp stab of pain. He winced. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Yes, Boss."

"Why?"

"I thought I might as well."

"Why?"

"I..." Tim stopped and tried to think of how to phrase his thoughts. It wasn't as though he was actively seeking for people to kill him. It just had seemed to work that way, because of his stupidity. "I... thought that maybe... that, well, it was a good way of keeping track of all the ways I'd screwed up."

Gibbs was still staring at him with that strange look. "McGee, are you aware that the only person who had a valid reason to want you dead was Aisha Raphals?"

"That's not true, Boss. I've done..." Suddenly, Tim was feeling a little droopy. Must have had another dose of whatever lovely stuff was keeping his leg from taking over his whole concentration. "I've done some really stupid things over the last month. Nothing has worked out like I thought, like I hoped it would."

"Like what, McGee? What have you done that warrants death threats?"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "You mean, besides the one you gave me before I started working for Aisha?"

Gibbs' lips quirked in a smile for an instant and then it was gone. "Yes, besides that."

"I... Why do you want to know, Boss?"

Gibbs didn't answer; he just waited.

Tim found himself blurting it all out from when he'd first discovered that Mark had been doing something at Sindhind Imports to when he'd lost his temper at Tony to his repeated rejections of Abby, even his drunken ramblings to Ziva. All the while he was talking, he was wondering why in the world Gibbs had invited this confidence, and why he was actually telling Gibbs everything. Perhaps it was too much time spent in silence, alone in his apartment, alone at Sindhind Imports. Whatever the reason, he was surprised that he wasn't feeling particularly embarrassed by it. Rather, he really wanted Gibbs to understand how he had felt, what he'd been thinking, why everything had added up to his current status, lying injured in a hospital bed.

"...and then, when you came over last week and I yelled at you, too... I just..."

"What, McGee?" It was the first sentence Gibbs had uttered in about an hour.

"I realized that you didn't really trust me anymore. You didn't trust me to be able to do my job. It seemed as though I'd be stuck at Sindhind Imports forever, doing nothing worthwhile because I no longer had the ability to do what I really wanted to do. So, I changed the program I had written. I made it into one that would... search for information rather than just accumulate data. I knew it was risky, but I didn't care how it ended, just so that it did. It was the indefinite waiting game I was playing that was killing me." He chanced a furtive glance at Gibbs who was still just sitting and waiting. It was so odd, but he continued anyway. "Well, it ended, although I wish it had ended less painfully."

"What happened, exactly?"

"When I saw just what Aisha was doing, I knew that I couldn't just wait and see how long it would take for her to figure out what I was doing. If she found out... her history... as... an interrogation specialist, made it fairly certain that I wouldn't come out of it any better than Mark had. Instead, I decided to send it all to Abby. That way, even if the worst happened, we wouldn't have the same problem as with the files I lost... or thought I had lost. I had copies saved on my personal computer, on my flash drive and then, Abby got a copy as well. Aisha found out somehow about the email. I'm not sure how. I probably was too noticeable during my search of the server. She took me to that room." Tim shuddered in recollection. "And then shocked me. That's the second time I've had that sensation. I hope I don't have to feel that ever again. Do you know what the worst part of the whole thing was?"

"What?"

"She was angry. I could see it in her eyes. She really wanted to kill me, but she was so clinical about it. She used her anger to make herself more efficient. She was going to drag that out for a long time. The first time she stabbed me, she gave me a lecture on how the human body feels pain. I don't think I'll ever forget it. It was a very effective object lesson." Tim laughed weakly. "Anyway, she tried to get me to do the same thing Mark had done, erase the files I'd sent, but I knew that it was my fault I was there; I had to accept the punishment." Tim was quiet for a long moment, thinking about how much worse this all could have ended. "I'm glad you guys found me."

"That's our job, McGee."

"I know." The unspoken words hung between them: I wish it was still mine.

"McGee, did it ever occur to you that this very situation is the reason why I didn't want you to do anything at Sindhind Imports? That it wasn't that I didn't trust you but that I was more worried about you getting caught and killed just like Mark Hanson was than I was about getting Raphals?"

Tim looked at Gibbs as though he'd never seen him before. His mouth opened a few times.

"Obviously, it didn't. Now that I think of it, I shouldn't be surprised. The last thing you ever believe is that you haven't actually screwed up. But, one thing you need to hear, McGee, is that I'm sorry. I gave you the hope that kept you working there, the same hope that made you do something so stupid. I shouldn't have done that."

Tim was embarrassed. He felt the same way he had when Gibbs had apologized to him before, although that hadn't been an actual "I'm sorry". He could still remember exactly what Gibbs had said to him, which was interesting considering the fact that, at the time, everything had felt fuzzy and strange, his mind going in loop-de-loops as he tried and tried to remember exactly what had happened in that alleyway... but without actually remembering it. Gibbs had said "I let you down." Just like that last time, Tim felt as though their lines should be switched. Now, he was actually apologizing. Gibbs, who berated Tim over and over for apologizing, was apologizing himself.

"I thought apologizing was a sign of weakness, Boss."

"It is. That doesn't mean I can't indulge every once in a while."

Tim laughed, in spite of himself, and then, again against his will, yawned widely.

Gibbs didn't seem offended. He just stood. "Good night, McGee."

"'Night, Boss." Tim watched Gibbs leave and then slumped just a little lower in the bed. He was swiftly on his way to sleep again, but he couldn't help but notice that Gibbs had not said he was getting his job back. All that, and nothing to hang onto. He felt that the situation was hopeless. Gibbs had certainly made him feel a bit better, but it was terrible to think that he still didn't have a job. I'll have to think of something, was his last conscious thought before the pain medication finally put him to sleep.