Chapter 36

After a few weeks, Tim was making a lot of progress on his therapy and was still working on his program. He started to hint that he might be ready to go back to his own place again, and maybe come back to work in a limited fashion. Gibbs decided to sit him down and talk about it. Even though it wasn't really his job or his responsibility, he didn't want Tim to start pushing himself too fast again.

"I'm doing a lot better, Boss. It couldn't be back to normal yet, but..."

"McGee...have you thought about just waiting until you're done with your Ph.D. before going back to NCIS?"

"I don't want to give up one thing for the other!" Tim said.

"You're not. You'll still have your job. You're not ready to be out in the field yet, anyway."

"But I could sit at my desk," Tim said, looking almost distressed at the suggestion.

Gibbs laughed.

"Yeah, you could, or you could take the time to finish one thing instead of trying to do two things that you almost didn't manage when you were at your best."

Tim dropped his head.

"Tim, it's not because you can't do them both. Just stop trying to do them both at the same time."

"I was doing it before."

"Barely. Ducky told me that you had asked about falling asleep because you were too tired. You stopped driving your car because you were afraid of getting in an accident! You're not fully recovered yet, Tim. It's okay to take some extra time."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Tim said softly.

"What is?"

"That I'm not better yet."

"Tim, we've already talked about this a lot."

Tim, to his credit, did smile.

"I know, and in my better moments...it's...I know. There's no reason to think it. I'm still getting better, but I don't like that I have to keep waiting. It just makes me nervous...when I think about it too much, and I don't want to. I just do."

"Tim, you have the chance to do it right instead of all at once. You can't handle it all at once right now. So don't bother with it. Just do what you can."

"But what if it takes too long?" Tim asked.

Gibbs shook his head.

"It won't."

"What if it does?" Tim persisted.

Thwack!

The head slap was pretty light still.

"It won't, McGee. Vance understands. He gets reports on your progress, and he likes the idea of having an agent with a doctorate. You'll be fine."

"Do you mind if I go back to my own apartment?"

"Do you think I should?" Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tim laughed a little.

"I guess not. I'm not used to...making all the decisions myself anymore, I guess."

"And your decision is?"

"To go back home. I'm feeling a lot better. I'm thinking straight. I don't...stumble over my words as much. I'm not driving yet, but...but I'm doing a lot better. I think."

Gibbs smiled. Tim sounded uncertain, but he was trying to make his own decision, and even if Gibbs himself felt a little ambivalent about it, he didn't want Tim feeling like all his decisions were suspect.

"You want it?"

"No offense, Boss, but...this still feels kind of awkward."

Gibbs chuckled and nodded.

"Then, you should go back home. ...but if I hear that you've started driving before you're cleared..."

"No way, Boss. I'd never do that."

"Good. Then, feel free to go whenever you're ready."

"Okay."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim ended up staying for the rest of the week and then, with a lift from Gibbs, he and Jethro went back to Tim's apartment.

Tim didn't know it, but there were plots going on all around him. What had initially just been an idea about hanging out with him had somehow turned into a party. The problem was deciding what they were going to celebrate. Tim had too many different significant things going on. Was the right time to celebrate when he finished his Ph.D.? When he came back to work? When he was officially declared healed? Sure, they could celebrate all of it, but at the same time, there was something to having a big celebration. It was just a matter of figuring out what should be celebrated the most.

Tim didn't know about any of that. He just slowly slid into another routine. He started taking transit to campus, and he'd work there for a couple of hours, hang out for a couple of hours and then go to his physical therapy and then to his regular therapy. Sometimes, someone from NCIS would come and pick him up and take him home. Regardless, over the next few months, Tim had a routine that helped him forget to worry.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It was winter semester, the year just getting started. Tim had been struggling with finishing his project. Finally, he set the program running and then left it to see how far it would go before breaking again. He headed up to the common room to see who was around.

"Hey, Tim. Finished?" Lancer asked.

Tim smiled a little. Lancer had made a habit of sticking around and seeing how Tim was doing. It wasn't extreme, but it was consistent.

"Not yet. I just set a test run going. We'll see how many more bugs I need to fix. Anyone else around?"

"Arnold is in the common room, but he's probably about the only one."

"You guys want to grab something for lunch? I need a break. My brain is starting to protest."

"You don't think you'll need your brain to talk to us?" Lancer asked. "That's not saying much for us, is it."

Tim laughed as they walked to the common room.

"Hey, Arnold, do you want to take a lunch break?" he asked.

Arnold looked up from a pile of assignments he was grading. He was acting as a TA under the professor who'd been hired to take Charles' place.

"Yes," he said fervently. "I am so tired of reading these things. I'd rather just fail them all."

"Do they deserve it?" Tim asked.

"Yes...because even the good ones have atrocious handwriting. Why did they hire someone who still prefers hardcopy?"

"To make your life miserable," Lancer said. "Besides, he's a good professor, and you know it."

Arnold sat up and stretched.

"Yeah, but still. Where are we going?"

"Oh, let's just walk and find a place," Tim said. "I've been down in the basement for hours. Even though it's cold, I need to get out."

They headed out together, and Tim took a deep breath when they got into the open air. He also relished the ability to walk without feeling like he was going to fall over. He still had dizzy spells sometimes, and the occasional headaches might end up being a constant in his life, but he was walking and thinking clearly. Both were things that he couldn't have managed a few months ago.

They headed to J Street, each chose a place to buy some food and then sat down at a table. They chatted about Lancer's and Arnold's projects...since they weren't classified and Tim's was.

"But I think I'm on track to finish this next year," Arnold finished.

"That's great. How did your presentation go at the conference?" Tim asked.

"Okay. Joan told me that I need to work on my delivery, that I need to stop acting like I'm terrified to be up there in front of people."

"Are you?" Tim asked.

"Yes!" Arnold said. "I hate having to present. I went into computer science because I didn't want to be presenting to people. I want to be the weird, stereotypical nerd who hides in basements or back rooms and is kept away from people because he's so strange."

Tim and Lancer both laughed.

"Not me. I never wanted that," Tim said.

"I never would have guessed, given that you're a cop," Lancer said.

Tim smiled. "Yeah, pretty obvious, huh."

"It can be so dangerous, though," Arnold said. "Aren't you worried about going back?"

"I'm worried about a lot of things, but that's not one of them," Tim said, happy to note that he was being completely honest about it. "NCIS has always been what I wanted. Sometimes, I don't feel like I really fit in, but it's what I want, and as soon as I'm done here, I'll be going back there. It's taken longer than I wanted, but I'm glad that I was forced to take the time to do it in order, rather than concurrently."

Arnold nodded a little.

"Besides, the only place I've ever been hurt was in grad school, not as a cop," Tim said with a grin.

"Yeah."

Tim could see that the two students he owed his life to were still bothered by what they had seen. He didn't blame them. It was a difficult thing.

"Hey, thanks, you guys. I still have a life because you were there when it mattered. It's something I can't thank you enough for."

"I didn't do anything, Tim," Arnold said. "I just threw up."

"You were there, and I needed someone to be there. You had to see something that would have bothered me."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The first time I had to watch an autopsy, I threw up. The first case I worked on, I nearly threw up. I'm not great with gory scenes, and what you saw...especially because you knew both of us. It's harder when you know them."

"Yeah. A lot harder," Lancer said.

"Have you still had problems?" Tim asked.

Lancer nodded. "Not so much since I started talking to the therapist, but... I can't get rid of what I saw and felt."

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that," Tim said. "But I'm glad you were there."

"Actually...so am I. Maybe it was just meant to be. Hard, yes...but worth it."

"Oh, yeah," Arnold said. "I hate it, but still, if I have to choose between seeing it and you being dead...I'll take seeing it."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Tim said. "I do, too."

Arnold laughed.

"Have you seen Eric at all?" Lancer asked.

"Yeah, I have. I went and visited him at the prison."

"Why?" Arnold asked.

"Because I needed to hear what he had to say...and I wish I didn't, but I feel sorry for him."

"He almost killed you," Arnold said.

"Yeah, I know. I don't know if I forgive him for that yet, but I feel sorry for what he did to himself. He ruined his life, and I don't have it in me to hate him, even if I can't forgive him."

"I'm surprised...and I'm impressed," Lancer said.

Tim shrugged. "I don't remember everything. In my head, it's still a blank spot where I actually got attacked. I remember him being there, but I don't remember him hitting me. Maybe if I did, I wouldn't be so nice about it."

"I'll bet you still would."

"Thankfully, I won't have to go through it again and find out."

They finished eating and headed back to the department. Tim went down to the basement to see how his program had fared. He sat down and started checking it out.

He was shocked to see that it had all worked. The program had run through to completion without any glitches, at least no glitches that stopped it running. He'd got it to work before, but it had been clunky. Now, it was pretty finessed. He might find some minor bugs, but it was working! It was longer than he'd hoped, but the fact that he was finishing it at all was amazing. He had almost given up on the possibility when it was giving him so many troubles because of how hard it was with his mind working slowly. Somehow, though, the slower pace had helped him...as had the fact that he was only working on his program. He hadn't liked it, but he had to admit that Gibbs was right. He had needed it.

For now, though, he decided to show what he'd managed to do to Sherman and get his feedback on how much more he would need to do in order to be finished.