Chapter 25

"Tony, why are you driving me to NCIS?"

"How could you tell?"

"Um...maybe because I've been driving to NCIS from Silver Spring for about five years now?"

"Okay. Good point." Tony kept his eyes on the road and pretended he couldn't tell that Tim's anxiety level was skyrocketing. "Just trust me, McGee."

"I don't."

"Yeah, that's because you're smart...but this time, you really can trust me."

Tim laughed, but he was nervous. Tony could see how tense Tim was just sitting beside him. They got to the Navy Yard in silence before Tim twigged to what Tony might be doing.

"No, Tony. This is a bad idea."

"What is?"

"This. Don't do this. Don't...don't make me do this."

"Trust me, McGee."

"I don't...trust you. I don't, Tony."

"McGee..."

"No, Tony. Take me back." The fear in Tim's voice made Tony's gut twist with regret. Maybe this wasn't the best idea...but he had started on this course and something made him continue it.

"Trust me." Tony pulled into a parking space and looked at Tim. "I'm not one of those guys who hurt you, McGee. I'm not Miss Cherie Montaine who claimed ownership of you. I'm not even Gibbs. Don't confuse me with him. We're not the same..." He rolled his eyes. "...even though I might act like him sometimes."

Tim shook his head mutely.

"Come on, McGee."

Tony opened the car door and got out. Tim sat for a few moments before reluctantly following suit. Tony led him into the bullpen, grabbed a few files from his desk and then led an increasingly anxious Tim out of the bullpen, into the elevator.

...and down to the evidence garage.

Tim's eyes widened and then narrowed.

"What are we doing in here?"

"Come with me."

"Why?"

Tony got off the elevator, walked into the room and looked around at what was sitting out. It was almost as if he'd planned this days in advance, even though it had been the inspiration of a moment. Everything he needed was close to hand. He turned around and saw Tim standing just off the elevator. He looked afraid...and that made him look dangerous because Tim resembled nothing so much as a cornered animal when he was afraid now...and the cornered animals were the most dangerous ones. Impatiently, he pushed the thought from his mind.

"You're going to show me what you did. Where you did it. How...what you saw."

"Wha–? No! Tony, isn't it enough that I relive that every day, every night? Do you have to make me do it again?"

"Yes. Yes, I do, McGee. Show me. I have the statements from the survivors and from the villains. I'm going to start. You're going to help me."

"No!"

Tony ignored him and began. "Now, Madison, the grad student, she described where she fought as a ring of light. She never felt like she could penetrate the borders of the light. It was so bright that she couldn't see beyond it. So..." He moved a few light stands around and turned them on, shining bright beams of light into the middle of the garage. "Like this, Probie?"

Tim stared at Tony in horror.

"McGee, like this? Smaller? Bigger? Brighter?"

"S-Smaller," Tim whispered. "It was smaller."

"Okay," Tony said, modulating his tone to be less combative. He could see Tim's fear, his dread at reliving it...and Tony hoped that he was right and that this would help. He pushed the lights closer together. "Like this?"

Tim shook his head. "No. It's wrong."

"How?"

"The angle of the light is wrong. It should be coming from overhead, too. Hot lights, blinding."

"So...how would we get lights like that to shine right down overhead?" He stood there and waited.

"An arm. You could use one of the retractable arms. Their lights were installed in the ceiling, but we can't do that here. The lights should be about nine feet up...so that we couldn't even touch them."

Tony suppressed a smile. Tim's mind was engaging with the problem, even if he was dreading the result.

"Good idea, Probie. Let's get on that."

Tim was looking at Tony like he'd betrayed him, but Tony tried to ignore that, too. He had a reason, a good reason, for what he was doing. Together, they moved one of the retractable arms over and extended it high above the designated ring of light. Tony lowered it and attached one of the bright halogen lights. Then, he raised it up.

"That's...better," Tim said.

"Good. Now, what else?"

"Why are you doing this to me, Tony?"

"Trust me, McGee."

Tim said nothing this time.

"There were doors leading into the room."

"One on each side of the ring..."

"Right. We don't have doors, but I'll make some space."

"Equidistant from each other."

"Right." Tony pushed and pulled the lights he'd set up before, making a kind of gauntlet leading into the ring. Tim didn't move to help him this time. His eyes were on that ring of light.

"Okay, McGee. Anything missing?"

Tim nodded.

"What?"

"The people who belong in the ring." Tim walked forward and stopped at the entrance. Then, he stepped inside and Tony watched the transformation. ...the almost transformation. Tim was still aware that he was in the NCIS evidence garage, not in that room...but he also could see only that room...and he was truly terrified. Quickly, Tony walked into the ring. Tim whirled on him, hands up...but he stopped.

"Don't do this to me, Tony."

Finally, Tony smiled. "I don't want you to fight, McGee...because you could more than likely kick my butt. That's not why I'm doing this."

"Then, why?" Tim looked around and around...almost as if he could see people outside the ring.

"McGee, you don't have to fight. Look where you are! You're standing here in this place you hate, this place that scares you more than it scares me...and you're not fighting!"

"I don't know how long that will last, Tony. Can't you see it? Can't you see... them?"

"There's no one to see, McGee. Just you and me standing here."

Tim took a step toward the edge...but he didn't go any further. "I can't get out of here."

"Yeah, you can. You definitely can. Any time you want to go, just walk out. Don't even throw a punch at me...although I'd probably deserve it."

Tim shook his head. "No, I can't."

Tony saw Tim's hand start opening and closing again. It was that nervous habit that disturbed him the most really...because Tim had no control over it. That much was obvious.

Tim turned around and faced Tony, his eyes both frightened and frightening. He tried to laugh.

"Everything inside me is screaming to stop you before you...you attack."

"Do you think I'm going to?" Tony asked, standing his ground.

"No...but that doesn't matter. What matters is wh-what I...I w-w-want to do."

"Do you want to attack me?"

Tim shook his head. "I don't...but...but part of me...me wants to."

"There's only you, McGee. You have the choice. You don't have to...and you know that."

"I don't really. Tony, I don't."

"Yeah, you do. You do, Tim. You know."

Open. Closed. Open. Closed. Tim was taking deep breaths...but they were coming too quickly to be doing him much good. Tim was losing control. Tony could see it, but he didn't make an effort to run or even to move. He just stood there, trying to help Tim see beyond the light, beyond what he'd done, beyond what his own instincts were telling him.

"No, I don't. Tony, just go. Please, just go."

"Nope. Nothing doing, Probie."

"I could hurt you, Tony. I could kill you."

"You could, but you won't."

Tim shook his head.

"You don't have to. I'm not going to attack you. I'm not going to hurt you. No one else is here, McGee. Just us. You have total control over yourself."

"No, I don't."

In spite of what he was saying, Tony actually agreed with Tim...and for some reason, the more he saw how much Tim had to fight against his instinct, the less he was afraid of him. ...because Tim was right. It wasn't him who wanted it. It was the people who had created the urge, the idea within his mind that fighting was the only option, that death was the only way things could possibly end.

Tim's fist clenched tight. Tony was watching more closely than Tim might think...if only to keep this from becoming disastrous. Unlike Gibbs, he was making no mistake in thinking that Tim wasn't able to kill.

Tim looked at him, turned around and walked toward one of the arms they'd set up. Tony realized what he was about to do just in time. He ran over and grabbed Tim's arm just before he could slam his fist into the solid metal stand in front of him.

"Oh, no, you don't, McGee."

There was a brief struggle and then Tim fell to his knees, pulling his arm from Tony's grasp.

"You've done more than enough damage to your hands, Probie."

"I wanted to hit you, Tony. I couldn't. I didn't want to...but I had to. I hate how this feels. It's like...like an addiction. I say no...but my body reacts. It's like I'm watching myself do things that I don't want to do."

Tony crouched down beside Tim. "You didn't do it, though, McGee. Can't you see how much progress you've made? You were confronted with the perfect opportunity to get your revenge...and you didn't. You didn't hit me even though I'll bet your spidey sense was tingling and telling you I was dangerous. You chose the course that, were it not for my excellent reflexes, would have caused you pain...and you chose that over hitting me." Tim didn't seem to agree. "I mean it...Tim...you're doing better than I thought. I was ready for you to attack...but you didn't."

Tim's hand moved to the floor and began tracing shapes.

"I keep telling myself that it's not necessary...but then I think back to what I did. It shouldn't have been necessary there either. If we had both just...just stopped, just refused to fight."

"Tim, you were...you were tortured, conditioned to respond in a certain way. It happens. Ziva, I'm sure, could tell you just how often it happens."

"...but they weren't even doing it for a reason! It was a game to them!"

"And you feel helpless."

"Shouldn't I? I didn't have any say. When I tried to protest, they only beat me more."

"You were helpless then. McGee, you're not helpless now. Look at what happened! They lost! Ms. Montaine didn't even have the guts to stick around and face the music! You're the winner, McGee. Doesn't matter how long it takes you to get over all this crap they put you through. You're already the winner."

"They're still winning. I can't stop myself."

"Yes, you can. You did."

"You don't get it!" Tim shouted.

"No, I don't," Tony admitted, following Tim as he stood up and started to walk...into the center of the light. "I don't get it, McGee. I can't. Because I look at you and I see progress. You seem to only see..."

"...the people I killed," Tim finished. "...I only feel their lives ending at my hands."

"But there's so much more, McGee."

"Like what? Jethro being killed just because they wanted to get me? The fact that a guy was killed, his body stolen, just for my training? The fact that I almost killed Gibbs because I couldn't control myself?"

"No. You didn't kill Gibbs. You're rebuilding your life. The fact that you didn't kill the man they used in your training. They didn't even kill him...so far as we know. You'd only been free for a couple of weeks when you faced off with Gibbs. It was too soon."

"Scared you off, though, didn't it?"

"Sure...but I'm a wuss and I like things to stay how I've put them. It's no reflection on you."

Tim looked at Tony for a long time and then, to Tony's surprise, he laughed...and then sank down onto his back in the center of the circle and stared up at the light they'd installed.

"Um, Probie, what are you doing?"

"I don't feel safe here, Tony. It's NCIS, but I don't feel safe. It feels like I'm back there."

"Nothing is going to happen here."

"Doesn't matter."

"Yeah, it does. Even if it's hard to believe it, it does matter because it's true. Nothing is going to happen to you here, McGee."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Just like that?"

Tim squinted in the light. "No. Are you crazy? Things don't work like that."

"Then, why did you say okay?"

"Because...I want to believe you. I just don't."

Tony laughed. "Fair enough. I'm not sure I would believe me either."

Tim sat up and looked around. "It's still there, Tony. That feeling."

"Yeah, I figured. Not even my brilliance can cure things right away. ...but look at how you're doing by being here."

"For now...what about later?"

"I'm not asking you to stay in here all night, McGee. I did get a movie."

Tony could tell that Tim was about to say he didn't want to watch a movie, but he looked down.

"Okay. Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you help me out of here?"

"Sure thing, McGee." Tony held out a hand with only a minor hesitation. He helped Tim up and then, walked him to the edge of the light.

"It feels wrong."

"It won't when you step out."

"It seemed like I only got to live when the light was on...and I didn't want to live with what I had to do to survive."

"Look, you have a chance to step out without throwing a single punch. We can't include the aborted shot at the light fixtures because that would just have been a losing battle. You know the metal would have won."

Tim gave a strained smile.

"I can't get out."

"Yeah, you can."

"I can't."

"Do I have to push you?"

"Probably."

"Nah, McGee. Just go. Let nothing but fear stop you."

"That's what's stopping me."

"Okay...then, not even fear."

Tim didn't move.

"Trust me, Tim. Nothing will happen when you go out."

Tim stood...breathing.

"Look. It's like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. 'Only in the leap from the lion's head will he prove his worth.'"

"Which means?"

"Well, for Indiana Jones it meant taking a step and then landing safely on a camouflaged bridge."

Tim smiled again, but didn't walk forward.

"What does that mean for me?"

"It means...you have it a lot better than Indiana Jones did because all you have to do is take a step out of the light...and you know what's out there. The evidence garage."

"At least Indiana Jones wanted to be where he was."

"I suppose. Take a step, McGee. You're not going to fall."

Tim smiled weakly and took another deep breath before taking a single step...out of the light and into the gloom beyond. Tony watched him grab hold of the light stand and sag against it as if it had taken all his strength to take that small step. He followed and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"One small step for McGee..."

Tim laughed but cried a little as well. "...whatever, Tony."

"Hey, come on! The Moonstone is still waiting! I haven't even seen it!"

"Slowly..." Tim said softly. He took another step, but he hung onto the light stand. It took five minutes to get beyond the ring of light and into the dimmer light of the garage, but Tim made under his own power. "Will you turn off the lights, now, Tony?"

"Why don't you, McGee?"

"Lazy."

Tony just smiled and watched as Tim slowly walked around the ring, turning off each beam of light illuminating the area. When all were out, he walked over.

"I know what you were doing, Tony."

"Trust me, now?"

Tim smiled, pale and sweaty, but for the first time in weeks, there was a hint of mischief in the smile. "Not on your life."

"Come on, McGee. I want to get this movie over with."

"The movie will never be as good as the book, you know."

"Movies are always better than the books, McGee. You have to expend too much effort to read."

"Right. Opening that book. Exhausting."

As they walked out, to the elevator, up to the bullpen, and out the door, Tony had no idea how long he'd be able to hold in his heartfelt relief that Tim hadn't been harmed by what he'd done. He hadn't been at all sure if it would work, if it would help...and it seemed to have...maybe a little. He really wanted things back to normal.

...but if they couldn't be, then he'd at least help get them as close as possible.