Chapter 25

Tuesday...

"I wish I was walking," Tim said in a low voice.

"Well, you're not," Stan said equally softly. "It's not going to lessen what you have to say. These are doctors. They won't care if you're in a wheelchair."

"Does Dr. Banks know we're coming?"

Ducky shook his head. "No, he doesn't. His advocate knows, but as far as he is concerned, Dr. Banks is simply submitting himself to justice. He still thinks he deserves no mercy."

"But he does!" Tim said firmly. "He deserves a lot of mercy, for everything he did before and how easily he stopped himself after. He's a good man who got knocked down by people who knew how to do it. A mistake that he made twenty years ago shouldn't ruin his life."

"Keep in mind, Timothy, that the family of the young woman who died all those years ago may not feel the same."

"I know, but he's already punished himself for that, over and over from you've said. I think that's enough."

"That's what you'll have to tell the board. The decision will be theirs in the end."

"Do you think they'll listen?" Tim asked.

"That I can't say," Ducky said. He looked at Stan and Tim both. "All you both can do is your best. No one can ask more than that."

Then, the door opened.

"Agent McGee, Agent Burley, Dr. Mallard. You may all come in now."

Stan took hold of Tim's chair and pushed it into the room. It wasn't really a courtroom, but it had more than its share of the trappings. They saw Dr. Banks sitting beside his advocate at the front of the room. There was a stenographer of sorts and the committee who was reviewing the situation.

The advocate turned back and smiled.

"I'm grateful to the board for allowing some outside testimony beyond that of physicians," he said. "As people who were intimately affected by Dr. Banks, NCIS Special Agents Timothy McGee and Stan Burley have both expressed a desire to give their perceptions about what happened and what they feel should be done."

As he spoke, Dr. Banks turned around in his chair and stared at them in something akin to shock. He looked at them both searchingly, clearly wondering what they would have to say, whether it would be for or against him. Tim smiled a little and Dr. Banks turned back to the front. They were brought to the front and Dr. Banks' advocate gestured for them to speak. Tim felt Stan nudge him. He felt a little tongue-tied to be honest. It was not every day that he gave what amounted to a testimony that could affect the course of a man's entire life.

"I'm Agent McGee," he said. "I was abducted and given an experimental, synthetic drug...combined with a nerve agent. When Agent Burley and I were rescued and brought to Bethesda, Dr. Banks was our physician. I'm not a doctor, but from all that I know, he was doing his best to save my life even when no one knew what to do. He took the time to explain to me what was going to be done before they put me in an induced coma. Agent Burley can say more what happened in that space of time than I can." He looked up at Stan.

Stan took a breath. "While Agent McGee was in a coma, Dr. Banks worked closely with Dr. Mallard here and Abigail Sciuto. Dr. Mallard could say for certain whether or not Dr. Banks was trying to help, but when I began losing my ability to breathe, Dr. Banks was there trying to figure out how to keep me from suffocating. He could have let me die at any time and it would have just seemed to be unfortunate. No one knew what was going on until Dr. Matheson was able to figure out a treatment, but Dr. Banks kept me alive. He kept both of us alive."

"And when he came into Agent McGee's room, armed with a syringe containing a drug intended to kill him?"

Tim knew that this was his part to explain.

"I was afraid. I don't deny that. When I first heard him come into the room, and Stan saw him there, I was afraid."

Dr. Banks stared at the table.

"But that passed, almost instantly. As soon as Stan asked him what he was doing, I could see that he wasn't going to do anything. What I saw was not a man ready to kill me. I saw a man who had somehow been broken and I had no idea how it had happened. Dr. Banks just stood there by my bed. He made no move, and at that point, I couldn't have stopped him, and Stan probably couldn't have either. If he had really wanted to kill us, he would have. I can't say anything about who he was before this. All I know is that Dr. Banks is a good doctor and, if he were to be my physician again, I'd trust him...even with all that's happened."

"I would, too," Stan said. "Dr. Banks saved my life more than once. I don't have words to describe how it felt when I was struggling to breathe and what a relief it was to have Dr. Banks helping me. Whatever he did in the past, I only know him as a good doctor."

Tim looked over at Dr. Banks again. He hadn't looked up, but his shoulders were shaking. His hands were covering his face.

"Dr. Banks," he said, addressing him directly. "I'm not going to pretend that I think your considering the possibility of killing me was right...but you know that already. I don't think you could ever be punished for that more than you already punished yourself. I could see it in your eyes...how much you hated yourself for what you had thought of doing. I think that means something. I think it means a lot. No one stopped you. You stopped yourself."

Dr. Banks didn't raise his head.

"Is that all you have to tell us?"

Tim looked back at the committee and nodded.

"Yes."

"Agent Burley?"

"I've said what I have to say."

"Dr. Mallard, do you have anything to add?"

"Only that I can say with certainty that, until the men who were blackmailing Dr. Banks put the pressure on, he was trying his best to save these two men."

"Thank you. You may be excused."

Stan nodded and pulled Tim out of the room. Tim stopped him when they were back in the hall.

"How long will it take them to decide, do you think?" Tim asked.

"I don't know," Ducky said. "I've never been privy to a situation like this."

"Can we wait?" Tim asked.

"You can't stay here forever, Tim," Stan said.

"A few minutes isn't forever."

"I'm okay with waiting a little bit."

They sat in silence for a few minutes and then the door opened again. Dr. Banks and his advocate came out. He stopped in surprise when he saw them there.

"I didn't know you were staying," the advocate said.

"We just wanted to see if we could find out what was going to happen," Tim said.

"Why?" Dr. Banks asked, his voice soft. "Why would you care?"

It was the first time he'd spoken in their presence since that night in Tim's hospital room. It was shocking how much older he seemed now. His voice was soft and quavery and his shoulders were slumped. It was like looking at a completely different person.

"Because I don't want them to win," Tim said. "Not in anything that they tried to do. They killed probably close to twenty people. They tried to kill Stan and me. They tried to ruin you. I can't stop them from committing those murders, but Stan and I survived. ...and if I can help you get your life back from them, I'll do anything I can to make sure it happens. You deserve better than to have them beat you."

Dr. Banks actually smiled a little. "They already beat me. Didn't you notice?"

"It's only half time," Stan said. "And they lost all their star players. You can make a comeback. ...and I promise that is the first athletic analogy I've made in years."

Dr. Banks laughed. "In my other life, I played sports."

"What's going to happen now?" Tim asked.

"We're waiting to find out."

"How long will it take?" Stan asked.

"I don't know. It could be a few minutes. It could be hours."

"Do you mind if we wait?" Tim asked.

"Should you be up for extended periods yet?" Dr. Banks asked, sounding almost like his old self.

Tim smiled. "I'm okay...as long as I'm not standing."

"But he won't be up for too long," Ducky said, firmly. "I'll be making certain of that."

"If you want to wait, I don't mind."

"Thanks."

Stan rolled Tim over to a bench and then sat down beside him. Dr. Banks didn't sit down. He seemed to worried and anxious to do anything but stand, almost motionless.

Five minutes passed.

Then, ten.

After fifteen minutes, Tim knew that Ducky would suggest that he leave. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to see that he'd been able to do something. Something that would make things better, something that would stop the men who had attacked him, stop them from triumphing any more than they already had.

Then, the door opened.

"Dr. Banks? We're ready for you."

Dr. Banks turned toward the door. The man gestured for him to go inside. Tim didn't try to get Stan to follow. He just waited. Ducky didn't try to insist that he leave. They waited for a few minutes and then the door opened again. Dr. Banks came out. He didn't say anything. Ducky walked over.

"What was the result?" he asked gently.

Dr. Banks took a breath. "My license is suspended...for a minimum of two years."

"But you can get it back again?"

"Contingent upon my getting treatment. They have access to all my old records and they said that...that what happened before wasn't negligence but my hiding my past..."

"I understand. What will you do with your time?"

"I'll be going back to the psychiatric facility for a while. Other than that...I don't know."

Ducky gave him a card. "Please, if you need anything, call me. I'll be more than happy to try to give you a hand."

Dr. Banks nodded and then walked over to Tim and Stan. He took a breath.

"I can't thank you enough for what you did. It's nothing that you had to do, nothing that I expected. I'm...grateful, and I always will be. I'll remember what you both did for me."

He put out his hand. Tim shook it firmly and Stan did the same.

"Good luck," Dr. Banks said. "You're both looking much better."

"Good luck to you," Tim said.

"Thanks."

Tim watched as Dr. Banks walked away. Then, he sighed a little.

"I'm glad he has a chance of working again, but it's too bad that he has to wait."

"That is justice, Timothy," Ducky said. "Justice and mercy. He did do things that he should not have done, but what he did was not enough to justify destroying his life...and now, he will have the time to recover his self-respect. I don't believe that he's had that for twenty years."

Tim nodded.

"So...you ready to go, Tim?" Stan asked.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

"Good. Anything left?"

Tim smiled as they headed for the exit. "Yeah. One thing."

"What?"

"We both have to get back to work."

"Well, then, if you get back to your therapy, you'll be back to work all the sooner."

Tim chuckled.

"Well, then, hurry it up, Stan! I can't get there on my own."

Stan laughed.

"Fine, then. Be that way."

They headed off, knowing that they'd done what they could and that it had been enough for now.