"Have you gone to see McGee yet?" Tony asked as he and Ziva walked from the parking lot, into NCIS.

"No, I have not had the chance, but I was thinking of going this evening."

"Yeah, I called Ducky this morning. He said he heard Tim walking around all night."

"I did not see how him staying at Ducky's place would help him sleep any easier."

Tony shrugged, "Moral support, I guess."

"Yes, I suppose so… Do you know anything about when or if McGee will return to work?"

"No, but it will probably be when he starts sleeping through the night. You can't have a agent, on the field, falling asleep with his gun in his hand and his eyes wide open."

They entered NCIS and greeted the security guards, then made their way to the elevator.

"We can not somehow stop McGee's nightmares," Ziva said as they stepped into the elevator.

"What?"

"How are we really supposed to help, when every thing that is bothering him is in his head?"

Tony turned to her, becoming serious, "When you first got back from Somalia, did it help to know that your teammates were there for you? I mean, I know you weren't the biggest fan of me at the time, but just in general. And I don't mean there as in talking you through everything and holding your hand… just being there."

Ziva nodded, "Yes, it did."

"That's how we can help."

The elevator doors opened and they walked to the bullpen. Ziva looked at him slyly, "And I thought I was the one to give the good advice."

Tony smiled, "You never know what I'm gonna do."

"Good morning, Ducky," Tim said as he went into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Timothy. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, I did."

Ducky turned around from fixing tea and stared at him.

Tim sighed, "Okay, no I didn't."

"It's better to tell the truth now, than to lie."

"I know, I know," Tim sat down at the kitchen table, "I just don't know what I'm gonna do, Ducky. How am I supposed to sleep when I can't close my eyes, and when I finally do I have nightmares?"

"I'm afraid there is no easy answer for that," Ducky poured his tea then came and sat down across from Tim, "However, I think you should talk to someone. Tell them what happened, how you felt when you were trapped, how you feel now. You would be amazed at how much simply talking to someone can help."

"But, I really don't want to go to some therapist that's gonna have me on a time clock, write down everything I say, then give me some crappy advice."

Ducky smiled, "Not all therapists give "crappy" advice, Timothy."

"I know… I just don't feel comfortable talking to a stranger about it."

Ducky nodded then looked at his watch, "I'm afraid I must go. Duty calls. Help your self to anything you want. What is mine, is yours."

"Thanks, Ducky."

"You are welcome, Timothy."

A few hours later Gibbs was coming down to autopsy to get some information on a Marine that had been killed.

After Ducky gave him the cause of death, Gibbs began to leave.

"One moment, Jethro!" Ducky called out to him.

He turned back around, "Yeah, Duck?"

"Would you happen to know anything about Timothy and his job security?"

Gibbs looked at him for a moment, "Abby?"

Ducky nodded, "She has been wondering, but I believe Timothy is too, even if he hasn't said it directly to me."

"I don't know, Duck." No one outside of Abby, Tim, and Gibbs knew that Tim had tried to kill himself while he was in the box… and Gibbs saw no reason to inform anyone else, since Tim hadn't tried to do it again. The last thing Tim needed was everyone at work staring at him. "I can't let him out on the field when he's not resting. He doesn't take lack of sleep too well."

"No, he does not… I feel he needs to speak with someone about his experience. Get it out in the open. However, he does not want to speak to a therapist."

Gibbs eyed Ducky for a moment, not sure why he was telling him this right now… Then he got it, "You want me to talk to him?... I'm not good with words, Duck."

"I agree... no offense intended of course. I just want you to get him to talk."

"I can do that," Gibbs replied, "That all, Duck?"

"Well, there is one other thing."

"What?"

"If Timothy doesn't want to see a therapist, or a psychologist… I think I have an idea, if you agree."

Gibbs shrugged, "Tell me."

Gibbs looked at his watch. It was almost six. Ducky would be home in an hour or so, and Ziva and Tony wouldn't be leaving work for at least another two hours. But here he was, standing at Ducky's front door. He knocked three times. No answer. Three more times. No answer. He knocked again, and was about to break the door down, when he heard someone running down the stairs.

"Sorry, sorry," Tim said as he opened the door without looking at who it was first. He was surprised, and slightly embarrassed, to see Gibbs standing there, "Oh… hi, Boss."

Gibbs nodded, "McGee. Can I come in?"

"Of course." Tim moved back so Gibbs could come inside. Then he closed the door behind him, "I thought you were Ducky. He forgot to take his house key. I was just getting out of the shower."

"I can see that," Gibbs replied as he looked at Tim's red and white flannel pajama pants and his old, and now way too big, MIT t-shirt.

Gibbs had never seen Tim in pajamas before… and Tim would have preferred it to stay that way. He cleared his throat, "Do you want some coffee? We can go into the kitchen."

"Sounds good."

They went into the kitchen and Tim began to fix the coffee. Gibbs sat down and watched Tim, noticing that his hands were shaking. "What'd you do today?"

Tim shrugged, "Nothing really. I read a couple of books that were in Ducky's study."

"A couple? You read two books in less than twelve hours?"

"Well, I'd already read them before, so it was more like skimming than it was reading."

The coffee began brewing so Tim joined Gibbs at the table, "So, what are you really here for?"

Gibbs grinned, "That obvious?"

"You're not the type to stop by just to hear about my day."

"Do you like your job, McGee?"

Tim was slightly thrown off by the question, but he didn't hesitate, "Yes, I do."

"You wanna continue working at NCIS?"

"Yes, but…" his voice trailed off.

"But what?"

Tim sighed, "When Vance finds out about what happened, when I was buried alive… he'll question my sanity. He'll want me to go to endless psychological exams, they'll be nitpicking at every word I say, and I'll be put on suspension until Vance sees me fit to work again… if he ever does." The coffee stopped so Tim got up to pour Gibbs some.

"What if Vance doesn't find out?"

Tim froze, then slowly turned back around, "What?"

"If you'll agree to my terms, neither Vance, or anyone else, will never need to know."

"Are- Are you serious?"

"Do I look like I'm kidding, McGee?"

Tim shook his head, "No."

"Then sit down and listen to me."

"Okay," Tim began to walk back to the table.

"After you get my coffee," Gibbs added.

"Oh, right!"

Tim finished pouring the coffee then set it down beside Gibbs, "Okay, I'm listening."

Gibbs nodded, "No field work until you start sleeping. I can't risk having you or anyone else on the team getting hurt cause you aren't focused."

"I understand."

"If something becomes too difficult for you or if you need break, let any one of us know. We won't think you're weak. We understand better than you think we do."

Tim nodded, "Okay."

"And one last thing. I want you to talk to someone."

Tim sighed and went to speak, but Gibbs didn't allow it.

"I already set up an appointment, figuring you'd end up agreeing. This person is highly recommended."

"But, I don't think it'll help."

"I do. Give it a shot. If you don't, no work."

Tim sighed again, then thought for a moment, "Okay, fine. When's my first appointment?"

"Tomorrow morning at NCIS. Since you don't have your car just come with Ducky. He gets in at seven, and your appointment's at eight in the conference room."

"I'll be there."

The next morning Tim nervously walked up the NCIS stairs. His hands were shaking and sweating. He had only gotten two hours of sleep the night before. Exhaustion had taken over, forcing him into a nightmare filled sleep, until he was woken up by Ducky. After that, he couldn't go back to bed.

He had remained outside until it was time for his appointment. He really didn't feel like waiting in the lab or bullpen, he just wanted to be alone.

He was glad that the bullpen was empty as he walked by. He was much too nervous to put up with Tony's jokes.

Tim walked straight to the conference room. He reached out and held onto the door handle, hesitating to open it. 'You can do this. You can do this.' He repeated to himself. He took a few deep breaths, then turned the handle.

He opened the door and walked inside, then froze, shocked by who was waiting for him.

Who's waiting for him? Anyone have a clue? Let me know your guesses :)

So, I said last chapter that there are only few chapters left, and that is still true... but, just a little added info: I am already working on my next story. It is Tim-centered (shocker, huh?), but it is quite different from anything I've done. It's still in the angst/drama/suspense kind of category, but it's different... We'll see how it goes when the time comes. Just wanted to let you guys know!

Now, if you review, I shall give you Abby hugs. Thank you!