Chapter 29
James' flight landed at Dulles just after eleven. By the time he went through customs, picked up his bag and met Ducky, it was nearly midnight, although five hours later for him. They talked a lot of inconsequentials on the way back, but Tim was never far from their minds.
"Wow," James said with a low whistle. "His friend is well off."
"Yes. They seem to have done quite well for themselves."
"Well, let me see my new project."
They got out and headed inside.
"You won't like what you see, James."
"I've never seen him before, Don."
"I know. ...and you won't like what you see...but Timothy wasn't always like this. I hope you can remember that."
"I'll try. Where is he?"
"I'm not sure."
Then, they both heard the click of paws.
"Jethro?"
Soft bark in reply.
"Ah, yes. Where's Timothy?"
Jethro trotted into view, then gave another bark and turned back around.
"Oh, dear. He must be at the pool again. I do not understand his fascination with the frogs."
"Frogs?"
"Yes. They drown in the pool and they seem to be something of an unhealthy obsession to him."
"In his current state, I doubt there is much that is healthy."
"True enough. This way."
They walked through the kitchen and to the back door. There he was, sitting on a deck chair watching the pool. There was a small bit of splashing going on in one area. A frog was fighting to get to the wall and escape from the chlorinated water. Tim was staring, making no move to save the unfortunate amphibian...making no move at all, except for his eyes which occasionally flicked from the pool to the rest of the lawn and then back to the drowning frog.
Ducky sighed and then opened the door. Tim jumped and spun around to confront them.
"Oh, it's you," he said, flatly.
"Yes, Timothy. This is my friend, James Oaks."
Tim inclined his head slightly but made no other acknowledgment.
"Nice to meet you," James said, congenially.
"Right. He staying here?"
"He might as well, until our plans are decided...unless you have an objection?"
"Besides the fact that I don't want him...or you here in the first place?"
"Yes, besides that."
Tim laughed. "No. No other objection."
"Are you going to stay out here all night?"
"What's it to you?"
Ducky didn't respond to the overt antagonism, forcing Tim to answer.
"I don't know. I won't check in if I decide to go to bed."
"See you in the morning," James said.
"Yeah, great." Tim turned back to the pool...where the splashing had stopped. The frog was dead.
James gave Ducky a look as they went in, but he didn't say anything until the door was closed.
"Well?" Ducky asked.
"I want to see the shower. Have you cleaned it up?"
"Not yet. I'm afraid I've had other concerns. This way."
"Don...how long ago did the operation end?" James asked as they headed up the stairs.
"Over a month."
He shook his head. "What did you people do? Don't you have policies about dealing with people?"
"We do. James, I don't think you have understood the time frame."
"Enlighten me because I don't understand what I'm seeing."
"The operation lasted for seven months, plus a month of preparation. It ended, Timothy came back, and quit before he'd been back for two days. He had a debriefing after which the psychiatrist recommended a full course of therapy, but he quit and it couldn't be enforced."
"Based on his quaint method of showing how much he cares, I'd guess that's part of the reason why he quit."
"More than likely," Ducky said with a small smile. "But why did you ask about the operation? I told you once already the time frame."
"Because if I had come upon him and had to guess, I would have thought he'd only just been out of undercover. He's too hypervigilant. It's an exhausting state, impossible to maintain for long periods of time."
"Well, he obviously has."
James smiled and shook his head. "No...I don't think so, but I do think I'm understanding more about why he isolated himself and what may have happened to him. Let's take a gander at the shower, shall we?"
"Certainly. It's right through there."
James nodded and walked into the wreckage. He looked around.
"He was in here when it...exploded?"
"Yes."
"He was lucky."
"Yes, I agree."
James knelt and examined the place where Tim had tried to reassemble the shards of glass.
"He did this?"
"Yes."
"Did he say why?"
"To fix it. He said he wanted to fix it."
"He's a perfectionist?"
"Oh, yes."
"Don...you all made a huge mistake in allowing him to dictate his isolation."
"I'm aware of that already."
"Not to the right degree."
"What do you mean?"
James got to his feet and gestured around the bathroom. "All this...it makes perfect sense when seen through the proper lens."
"Which is?"
"The lens of a person who has been deep undercover. Yes, his anger at his team has a lot to do with it, and it's certainly the most obvious outward manifestation, but that anger wouldn't have been as detrimental were it not coupled with the fact that he was deep undercover."
"Explain. I've seen undercover work before, you know."
"I know, but Timothy seems to have reacted like the worst I've ever seen before. He's...still undercover in a way."
"How are you getting that from the shower?"
"Let me put it to you in another way," James said. "Imagine that you are undercover, so deeply that you have perhaps one place where you can safely let down your guard. One place only. You jealously guard that space, hoping to keep it under control, hoping to regulate everything within that space so that it never loses its sanctity. Like Timothy, you have nowhere else you feel you can turn to be yourself. You feel constantly on the edge of spiraling out of control. Everyone undercover for the long term feels that way to some degree. I would guess that Timothy felt it twenty fold...at least. Undercover, you know that at any moment, everything could come crashing down. That tension never eases, not completely, even in the safe space. Then, suddenly, it's over. You're supposed to go back to your life, but you can't. You can't rid yourself of the feeling of dread, of the feeling of being discovered. Instead, you try to duplicate the circumstances of that safe space you had. You're always on the lookout for someone coming after you, but you can't maintain that level of awareness. It's exhausting."
"Timothy has."
"No, Don. He hasn't. Can't you see it? Part of the reason for Timothy's insistence on total isolation is his need to control his environment. He knows he can't control people. He can barely control himself. So he gets rid of all human interaction as a way of gaining complete control. His anger only makes it easier to cut off those ties. He has no regrets. He has safety."
"He said he wanted to be safe."
"Precisely. Think about it. What if you had been standing in the bathroom when your shower inexplicably exploded? You would have been frightened, perhaps even momentarily terrified until you realized that you were all right. That's a healthy reaction. Timothy is not healthy, not in any sense. He has obsessively distilled his life down to himself and, to a slight degree, his dog. Everything else is lifeless with the idea that he can control it. He feels safe. Then, suddenly...suddenly with one explosion, he is shown that he is not safe in this one place he thought he had completely controlled. It's not in his control. It's not safe. It's dangerous. It could kill him. He is confronted anew with his mortality, with the fact that he could be killed at any moment and it pushes him right back into the feelings he battled during his undercover operation. It overloads a mind that can't take it and he temporarily shuts down, goes into autopilot...to the one place he feels he can be safe. Why you? I don't know, but he needed somewhere to go and, if you really want him saved, you should thank your lucky stars that's his reaction...not the alternative."
Ducky was silent for a long moment digesting what James had said.
"You got all of this from speaking with him for one minute and looking at the bathroom?"
"I don't know the details, but Timothy is hardly the first person to have a problem with undercover work. His anger and hatred toward his team are added fillips to a bad situation, but a situation I've seen before...have gone through before, truth be told."
"Knowing all this...can he be helped?"
"Is it possible? Yes...but not here. I'm no psychiatrist, and while I can help with his reactions to his undercover work, I can see that he needs a lot more than either of us can give, no matter how well-intentioned we might be. What he needs is to acknowledge that his mind is broken."
"I know."
"Can he do that? Maybe. Some can't. Some cling so desperately to the persona that they can't let it go. It destroys them, even if they keep on living. It ruins their lives. Timothy seems to be trying to do just that. I don't know if he's willing to let it go. I won't know until I speak with him...and maybe not even then."
"We can only try."
"Yes. Exactly."
"Well...would you like to see your room?"
James smiled. "I'm exhausted, Don. I'd love to have a bed. You'll be working tomorrow?"
"Yes. I hope that's not a problem."
"Not at all. In fact, it might be better for Timothy and I to speak alone rather than with your kind...but interfering presence."
Ducky laughed. "To the point as always, James. This way."
James clapped a kind hand on Ducky's shoulder. "Don't give up just yet, Don. I'll do my best."
"I know."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim watched the pool all night long.
