Chapter 35

Nicholas Cage was running through the house with a map of the United States in his hand. He was looking at it as if it gave him directions. Tim watched him in surprise, wondering when the actor had joined NCIS…although he supposed it made sense. He was pretty versatile. Tim followed him as he ran up the stairs…and up more stairs…and more stairs. He seemed pretty concerned about something. He turned the corner ahead of Tim and by the time Tim caught up…he wasn't Nicholas Cage anymore. He was Tony. Tim didn't have time to think about that because suddenly, he was looking at Tony through a shimmering wall…and he couldn't breathe. His arms felt like blocks of lead and he couldn't move them. Tony disappeared, leaving Tim all alone…but not for long. Smith hovered over the shimmering wall of water. The expression on his face was demented and gleeful. Tim wanted to get away, but he couldn't. The water was just barely above his head, but he couldn't move to get out of it. "No! No! I can't breathe!" Tim screamed. The fact that he could scream while drowning didn't seem to be a problem. "Help me!"

"Tim! Wake up!"

"Come on, Probie! Snap out of it!"

Tim heard the words and wondered who had spoken them. Then, he was shaking and a thought ran through his mind: Maybe I'm asleep! The images disappeared, but the shaking remained. It was so dark. Why was it so dark? If I'm asleep, then my eyes are closed. Tim congratulated himself on the thought and pushed against the weights that appeared to be attached to his eyelids. His eyes opened and he took a deep breath of sweet air. Tony and Sarah were hovering over him. Sarah in particular looked terrified. Where am I? What's going on? Tim wondered…then, like a tidal wave, everything came back. As the all-too-familiar pain crashed over him, he wanted to scream at the weight of it. He wanted to sever the strings that held him there. He wanted to reclaim the oblivion because it was only then that he didn't feel the pain.

"Are you okay, Tim?" Sarah asked, still leaning worriedly over him. As Tim looked from her to Tony and back, he knew he couldn't give in…he didn't know how he could not, but he knew he wouldn't be throwing himself off a cliff again. There was something about that…the thought vanished from his mind as he coughed painfully and sucked in more air.

"Probie? You in there? Speak a few words so that we know you're not on vacation," Tony said. His voice was light, but Tim could see the worry in his eyes. Tony was worried. Tim thought about that for a few seconds. Tony was only worried when things were really serious. Tim struggled to think beyond the pain and form a coherent sentence.

"I don't…" Wow, I feel so…out of breath… "…have enough leave saved up for a vacation…" Tim managed to say. He tried to paste a smile on his face, something that would remove the fear from Tony's and Sarah's expressions. It didn't work. Come to think of it, and thinking of anything besides the pain was well worth the effort, he felt rather trembly and sweaty. He must look about the same. "Sorry…" he said.

"Sorry for what, Tim? All you did was freak us out a little," Sarah said, a small edge in her tone that worried him. She tended to get combative when she was worried or scared.

"Where's…" Tim began and had to stop again for more air. He felt as though he hadn't been able to take a real breath for days. Every inhalation was hampered…by what, exactly, he wondered. There's plenty of air…so why is it so hard to breathe?

"Where's what, Tim?" Sarah asked, the worry now more pronounced. Tim realized that he'd forgotten to actually finish his sentence. Everything in his head felt blunted, like he couldn't function…except where his pain was concerned. That occupied a large black hole in his mind that seemed to be getting larger and larger, sucking everything important into its boundaries.

Focus, Tim. They're still waiting, he told himself. "Where's Mom and Dad?" he asked, forcing himself to finish the entire sentence before sucking in another deep breath.

"They should be here soon," Sarah said, still looking at Tim with concern.

"Okay," Tim said in reply. He didn't really know what he should be saying or doing right now. His plans for the future had expired yesterday. He had nothing else right now…except to lay in this hospital bed and try to stave off the exquisite pain…and he wasn't doing a good job of that right now.

They all stared at each other in a tense silence...until Tony murmured something about needing to talk to Ziva about...something. Tim watched him leave and wondered how bad he really looked. He certainly felt bad enough to warrant people trying to get away from him.

Just as Tim felt as though he would have to scream or shout or do something to release some of the pent up emotion, the door opened. He felt a slight easing of the pressure at the sight of his parents. Perhaps it was silly, but there was still a small part of him that expected them to be able to drive away the monsters in the closet…or in his mind. It didn't really make a difference where the monsters lived. He looked at them a little guiltily as he saw the worry etched in their faces. Another twist in his mind and he had to look away. He was causing so much trouble. He knew that his dad would have had to take off work to come, that they must have come in a hurry, that they probably forgot something important because they wouldn't have been thinking clearly, that Sarah had probably forgotten all about the big project she'd been working on when she heard the news, that his team was not working today so that they could be here for him. All this bother just because he couldn't hack it, just because he had screwed up so royally, just because he was stuck in this neverending cycle of…

"Tim, stop it," Sam said.

Tim blinked and looked at his hands. The edges of his sheets were crushed in his tight fists. He noticed that he felt light-headed again.

"Take a deep breath," Sam added. Tim did so and was amazed that the air seemed to do its job this time.

Tim blinked back tears. Hearing Sam tell him what to do, how to take another step, was like a tonic.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," he whispered as he looked at his hands. He couldn't seem to relax enough to let go of the sheet. He barely noticed when Naomi sat on the other side of him. She cupped one of his clenched fists in her hands and began to massage it. Tim barely noticed as his hand involuntarily relaxed under her ministrations. She started on the other hand.

"Stop apologizing, Tim. You're not doing anything wrong," Naomi said. Tim barely heard her. He was looking at Sarah who stood at the foot of the bed. He tried to think of something to say, something to make everything okay again, at least between them because as blunted as his own emotions were, he could feel her fear and he could see that she was nervous.

"We need to talk," Sam said, taking in all of them. "…as a family, because like it or not, Tim, this affects all of us." Tim winced and hunched his shoulders. "No, I'm not angry. I just want you to be open this time. Last time, you told us everything was okay, that you were getting the help you needed. That obviously wasn't the case, was it?"

Tim shook his head silently.

"Tim, you are an adult, but we are still your family. You don't have to go it alone. I meant what I said. We're here and we're not going to leave you."

"No, we're not," Sarah said. She met Tim's eyes and didn't flinch away like she had before. She walked around and sat down on the foot of the bed. "I'm not mad at you, Tim. I'm just scared…for you."

Tim swallowed hard and tried to relax.

Sam smiled and said, "Well, then, I call this meeting of the McGee clan to order. Everyone present and accounted for?"

"Aye!" they all answered.

"Very well, let's get down to business then."

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"Jethro! I need to speak to you!" Ducky said, hurrying down the hallway.

"Is it important, Duck?" Gibbs asked, taking a sip of the satisfactory coffee he'd been able to find. "I wanted to check on Abby." In truth, he was worried about her. She had hidden herself somewhere in the hospital after meeting Tim's parents. His accusation seemed to have hit her hard.

"Yes, this is important. I've found something that requires your attention," Ducky said very seriously. "I didn't get to this before, and I wish very much that I had. We have a serious problem."

"Beyond McGee?" he asked, a little sarcastically.

"Jethro…this is about McGee."

Gibbs finally stopped walking and looked at Ducky. He was deadly serious. "What is it, Duck?"

"I put in a request for the records of Timothy's previous therapy sessions with Dr. Leavitt." Gibbs suddenly noticed that Ducky was not only serious; he was also livid. "It took some doing which surprised me. I actually had to get Jenny to lean on him."

"Wouldn't it be expected that you'd get McGee's information?"

"Yes, it would. I only received the documents on Friday. I didn't have a chance to go through them before all this happened, but I have spent the last few hours listening and reading."

"And?"

"And I'm beginning to come around to your opinion that we should kill him."

Gibbs blinked. Abby slipped from his mind, and he followed Ducky to the small office he'd been offered use of during his stay. Ducky gave him one of the transcripts and he began to read. About five minutes in, he set his coffee cup down and looked up at Ducky.

"Keep reading. It gets worse."

Gibbs began to skim through the transcription of a single session. The things that Dr. Leavitt had said to Tim were inexcusable…by any standard. No doctor would say these things to a patient.

"Are you sure this is right? I'm no expert, but…" Gibbs lost his words. He was too shocked to even be angry. Anger would certainly come later on, but at the moment, he couldn't believe what he was reading. "What kind of a person would say these things? …to anybody?"

Ducky had gotten over his own shock already and his voice was rough with anger. "I'm tempted to use the word evil, but I'll just say a disgusting, amoral excuse for a human being."

"I like evil better," Gibbs said. "He was seeing Dr. Leavitt for over a month! How did we miss this?"

"The first few sessions are standard fare, Jethro, and Timothy did seem to be improving, according to Ziva, Tony and Abby. This one is from the last week of his suspension when the abuse is full scale."

Gibbs looked at the transcript again and felt ill. Tim had said nothing about any of this. Everyone was blithely assuming that it was just a matter of switching to a better psychiatrist, one with better experience, more skills. They had had no idea of how damaged Tim had become. No wonder that his mind was finding it difficult to come to terms with what had happened.

"I am going to kill him," Gibbs growled.

"No, Jethro."

"Do you see what he's done? What he did to Tim? What Tim almost did to himself because of what he was told?" Gibbs said, nearly shouting. "This is more than cruel! This is…this is torture, Ducky!"

"I know, Jethro. That's why I wanted you to see it. This man should be investigated…but not killed."

Gibbs tried to rein in the white-hot rage that was boiling in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to jump in his car, drive back to DC and beat Dr. Leavitt to death. Come to think of it, it would be useful to have Ziva there to help. Tony would probably be a good addition as well. …but no, he knew Ducky was right and no matter how much this pitiful piece of excrement deserved a long and painful death, that wouldn't help Tim at all…even if it would make Gibbs feel better. He took a deep breath.

"Have you told Jenny about this?"

"No, not yet. Would you like to do the honors?"

"I suppose I'd better. Why would McGee not have told you about this?"

"Timothy has a very deep-rooted respect for those in authority. He might have protested had Dr. Leavitt started out in this fashion, but he didn't. He did it gradually, working Timothy slowly into a position where he could say whatever he liked and he would be believed. Remember, Timothy was already having difficulty because of what he perceived as the ultimate betrayal, not only of his own values, but also of the trust of those with whom he worked. He half-believed all these things already. A real psychiatrist would have helped him see that it was not a betrayal, but Dr. Leavitt…"

Gibbs suddenly remembered how relieved Tim had seemed when he had been told that he would no longer be seeing Dr. Leavitt. That relief had been strangely intense, but now, seeing this, it must have seemed liked a lifesaver had been thrown to him when he was about to drown…and so he had struggled on, hoping that he would suddenly be okay, not realizing that no one understood what he was feeling, how he had been made to feel about himself.

"Can you…fix this, Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky shook his head. "I'm not sure. Anything is possible and now that we know, the odds are certainly better, but it will take time. I'll have to tell his parents…and we're going to need to talk to Timothy directly. The sooner, the better."

Gibbs nodded and stood up again, a different goal in mind than when he had first walked into the hospital. He left the office and hurried down the hall.

"DiNozzo!"

Tony had been in conversation with Ziva and sat up at attention. "Yes, Boss!"

"I need you to go back to DC."

"What?" Tony looked rebellious.

"Come with me. You too, Ziva."

They both stood and followed him, looking confused.

"Have either of you seen Abby?"

"Not recently, Boss."

"She was hiding in the cafeteria, last I saw her," Ziva said.

Gibbs didn't comment, but led them both into the office and gave them the rundown of what was going on. He showed them the transcript that Ducky had shown him. They both reacted about as well as he had.

"That..that…" Tony stopped when he failed to find a suitable epithet.

Ziva suffered no such failure, although whatever she said was in Hebrew and neither of them understood the words. The intention was crystal clear.

"Tony, I want you to go back to DC and see what you can dig up on Leavitt. He came very highly recommended as a therapist for McGee. I want to know why he suddenly took this tack…if it was sudden, and if it wasn't, why no one caught it before."

"Can't we just kill him?" Tony muttered darkly.

"Unfortunately, no. Maybe later," Gibbs said. "Ziva…"

"Yes, Gibbs?" Ziva answered, finally switching back to English, although her voice was still thick with hatred. He had been about to suggest that she return with Tony, but he decided that was a dangerous idea, even with a 90-mile trip to calm down. The two of them would feed off each other.

"Go…find Abby."

"Find Abby…" Ziva said.

"Go! Both of you!" Gibbs ordered.

Ziva left, looking mutinous and Tony followed close behind her, looking furious…and a little sick. After they left, Gibbs sighed to himself and looked at the tape of the session. He put it in and began to listen:

"You know why you're here, right, Tim?"

"Of course, this is part of my punishment."

"That's right. Only a single part."

"Yes."

"Do you realize how easy it would have been for you to avoid all this?"

"Yes."

"How?"

Gibbs listened as Tim shifted uncomfortably, but when he resumed speaking, it was as though he was parroting things he'd already been told many times before.

"If I had been honest, if I had trusted people to do their jobs, if I had done my job... Those people who died would still be alive…and I wouldn't have almost died."

"Exactly."

"But Abby said that…"

"Abby…your friend, right?"

"Yes…"

"Your friend to whom you lied and one of the people you betrayed."

"Yes…but…"

"Tim, how can we make any progress here if you don't admit what you did wrong?"

"I know what I did was wrong!"

"What did you do, then, Tim?"

"I…I concealed evidence. I lied to my friends. I got people killed."

"And what was the result of all that?"

"I nearly died. I still have nightmares about that, Dr. Leavitt."

"Of course you do."

Gibbs sped past a section. When he resumed, Tim was crying.

"But I never meant…"

"People never do mean to get caught, Tim."

"No, that's not it! I didn't want to…"

"Do you know how much trouble you caused your team by what you did?"

"Yes. They really went to bat for me."

"And what did you do to deserve that?"

"Nothing."

"You told me before that you regretted not trusting them. What good does that regret do them?"

"Nothing."

"Can it bring back the people you…the people who died?"

"No. Nothing can bring them back." Tim's voice sounded dull.

"You said that you tried to make up for it by submitting to whatever NCIS decided."

"Yes, I didn't want to make it more difficult for them."

"And yet, they made it so easy for you."

Even while Gibbs seethed inwardly, he was amazed at how skillfully Dr. Leavitt was manipulating Tim. He never raised his voice. He just said everything as if it were a statement of fact, and as if everything Tim said was questionable. Gibbs stopped the session and looked at the next tape. He hesitated and then put it in and sped to a random spot in the middle. Tim sounded nearly hysterical.

"I don't want to remember this! Please, don't!"

"Tim, don't you see? You need to remember. You need to remember your punishment. How else can you really pay the price you deserve?"

"No…no…please…"

"You remember the water, don't you? You told me that you remember the water making you drown."

"…no…"

"Remember, Tim, you deserve this."

"…please…don't make me go through it again…I don't want to drown anymore."

"No one wants to drown, Tim. Those people whom you killed, they…"

"I didn't kill anyone!"

"You failed to take the course of action that might have saved their lives, even though you knew that you should."

"Yes…but I didn't…I never…"

"…those people didn't want to die, did they?"

"No."

"You could have stopped it."

"Yes…I think so."

"You think so."

"Yes, I could have!"

"So, if they can't come back to life, why should you forget drowning? Why shouldn't you remember it?"

"It's…it's hard. It scares me."

"That's life, Tim. You'll always be scared."

Gibbs couldn't stomach anymore and turned it off with a fierce jab. Maybe he should have sent Ziva back with Tony.

"Gibbs? I found her. Anything else you like me to do?" Ziva asked, sounding incredibly annoyed at being a gofer.

"Yes, thank you, Officer David. I would like you to go and get McGee's family and send them here. Send Ducky as well."

Ziva rolled her eyes and left.

"You've been hiding, Abby."

Abby shuffled her feet and didn't respond.

"Why?"

"He hates me, Gibbs," she whispered, not crying this time. She had moved beyond tears.

"No, he doesn't, Abby."

"You didn't see his eyes. He hated me."

"That wasn't Tim talking yesterday. That was his…pain."

Abby sniffled just a little. "Tim's never looked at me like that before. Gibbs, I don't know what to say to him. I don't know what to do. It's…he's…"

"Abby, I'm going to tell you this now, and then you can hear the whole story when the McGees get here. McGee's shrink was manipulating him."

"What?"

"Dr. Leavitt was not helping McGee. He was hurting him…the entire time McGee was seeing him. I'll let Ducky give all the details, but I want you to try and remain calm. No murder threats, okay?"

Abby looked as though she were still trying to absorb it all, but she nodded. Then, the door creaked open and Ducky and the McGees came inside. With Sam's wheelchair, the space was a little crowded, but Gibbs figured it was better to be private for what they were about to hear.

"Ducky, you want to tell them?"

"I wish no one had to be told anything, but yes, I will do the honors."

"What's going on?" Naomi asked. "What's so important?"

"You need to know something we just found out about the therapy Timothy had before I began my tenure," Ducky said.

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Tim lay in his room, alone. His thoughts were swirling around at a furious rate, settling on nothing, flying to a thousand different locations at once. He felt awful. They had been talking about how they could stay around so that he wouldn't be alone, uprooting their entire lives just because he was too weak to handle this on his own. Part of him was incredibly grateful because he was afraid of being alone, but mostly, he just felt guilty about taking up so much time.

"McGee?"

The voice startled him out of his reverie. He blinked and saw Ziva standing in the doorway.

"Can we talk?"

"Of course. Come in."

Ziva came inside, feeling a little uneasy, but determined to try and help Tim now that she knew what had been done to him.