Chapter 43
Over the next few days, there was a continuing, subtle shift... an improvement. Tim continued his therapy and seemed to be doing better, Tony finally came back to work and while Gibbs didn't like not knowing, he could see that something positive had come of the conversation that he and Ziva had. All in all, there could be hope for things to get better, a lot better. It was a distinct relief because Gibbs didn't want to see his team fall apart. Not now.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Baba! Outside?"
Tim still felt intense anxiety at the prospect of leaving the apartment, but with it getting so close to Zahara's due date, she really struggled getting around, and Tim knew it wasn't good for Salma to be inside all day. His parents had taken her out quite a bit, but this time...
Salma ran up to him and grabbed his hands.
"Baba, outside! Please?"
Tim tried not to look at Zahara. He knew what she was thinking. He didn't want to change his focus to her. Only his daughter who looked so happily earnest in wanting to play with her dad.
Outside.
"Okay, Salma. Let me get my shoes."
"Yea!"
Salma started to jump around, clapping excitedly. Tim went into the bedroom to get his shoes. He sat down on the end of the bed, trying to be happy. It was still a struggle.
"Tim?"
"I'm coming," he said, softly.
Zahara sat down next to him.
"Your parents can go with you if you want to tell Salma to wait until they get back."
He did want that, but he'd already said yes. So he shook his head.
"No. I'll go. I don't want to put her off."
"You can. It will not hurt Salma to wait for an hour."
"I know. But I might come up with an excuse not to go in an hour. I can do it."
Zahara smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
"Yes, you can. And soon, we will all go together."
"Maybe."
"No, we will. Go and have fun with Salma."
"I'll try."
"I know you will."
Tim got up and walked out of the bedroom. Salma was dancing with excitement. There was a park close by that had the playground equipment Salma loved. Only a couple of blocks away. An easy walk.
And still so very difficult.
But Tim tried not to show any of that to Salma. She had only been slightly affected by all that had happened, and he didn't want to change that now. So he let her drag him out of the apartment and down to the street. He stopped before going out the doors. What if someone was after him again? What if they took Salma? What if–?
"Baba! Outside!"
Tim swallowed his fear and he let Salma push the doors open and lead them outside. He looked around until he saw his CIA guards. Then, he walked with Salma down to the park. Salma was practically jumping with happiness all the way. When they got to the park, there were a few other children there, but not too many. Tim looked over and made eye contact with one of his guards, the sign that he wanted to talk to them. So the guard ambled over while Salma ran over to the slide.
"Watch me, Baba!"
"I'm watching, Salma," Tim said.
Salma ran up to the top of the slide and Tim stood by the bottom and then caught her when she slid down.
"Again!" she shouted and ran back to the slide.
The guard reached him as Salma got to the top of the slide.
"What is it, Agent McGee?" he asked.
"How many of you are there right now?" Tim asked.
Salma slid down the slide and Tim caught her.
"Who dat, baba?" she asked, looking at the man with some worry.
Tim leaned over and picked her up. The guard smiled and put out his hand.
"I'm Norris," he said, smiling. "What's your name?"
"Salma," she said, leaning against Tim a little more than usual.
"This is a friend of mine, Salma. He and I are going to talk while you keep playing, okay?"
"Salma is a very pretty name."
"Thanks," Salma said, shyly. Then, she shook his hand. "Norris pretty name."
Norris laughed.
"Thank you."
"Go play, Salma," Tim said and set her down.
She hesitated for a moment and then ran back to the slide.
"Four right now," Norris said. "We learned our lesson, but not soon enough. For that, I'm sorry. I wasn't there that day, but we let you down, Agent McGee, and that's something we can't fix."
"No, you can't. Four?"
"Watch me, baba!" Salma shouted.
"I'm watching," Tim said.
"Yes," Norris said. "Also, I want you to know that Agent Jacobs spoke to us all after everything went down and he told us what you went through. If anyone questioned whether or not this was needed, we don't now."
Salma slid down the slide, laughing as Tim caught her again.
"Swings, baba!"
"Okay."
They walked over to the swings and Tim helped her get on. Then, he started to push her. Salma didn't know how to make herself go higher just yet, but Tim wasn't ready for her to go higher, either, so it worked out just fine.
"I'm feeling paranoid, as you might guess," Tim said. "Where are the others?"
"One sitting on the bench. The other two are behind us."
"What about my wife?"
"Four on her as well. When you're out together, there are eight people watching."
"It doesn't seem to help, you know. I do feel better about it, but it seems like, when they want me, they still get me."
"Higher, baba!" Salma said.
"That's high enough," Tim said.
"That's because you don't get told when we stop them."
Tim looked at him in surprise.
"What?"
"When we've stopped people in the past, you haven't been told. So I guess it would seem like we're ineffective, but I promise, Agent McGee, what happened to you is a major exception. It's terrible that it did, but it's still an exception."
Tim wasn't sure what to think, how to wrap his mind around the fact that apparently people really had still been trying to get at him and he'd had no idea.
"I don't know if it helps or not, Agent McGee. Maybe I shouldn't have told you, but if you're feeling less safe because we failed this time, I understand, but you should know that we don't usually fail."
Tim swallowed.
"I don't know how I feel about it, either," he said softly.
Then, Salma was done on the swing.
"Baba, play in the sand!"
"All right," Tim slowed the swing down so that Salma could get off.
Then, she was happily dragging him over to the sandbox which had recently been vacated.
We should get a house with a yard so we could have our own sandbox since Salma loves it so much, Tim thought to himself... and then was surprised that he'd actually thought about something frivolous like that.
"Was there anything else, Agent McGee?"
"No. That's it. Thanks."
"We're watching. I promise."
Then, Norris walked casually away, out of view, but Tim knew that he'd still be around. He knew it, but he was still anxious.
But then, Salma pulled him down to his knees and insisted that he help her build things in the sand. As he tried to focus on playing with his daughter, Tim found that he could, to some degree, set aside his anxiety and just play. He still was looking around the park more than he should, but he could still try to help Salma create things out of the sand.
Finally, after about an hour, Tim was at his limits.
"Okay, Salma. Time to go home," he said.
"Play more, baba!"
Tim smiled. "No, Salma. We've been playing for a long time. It's time to go home. Maybe your grandma and grandpa will be back, and Grandpa will give you ride on his wheelchair."
Salma perked up right away and grabbed Tim's hand. They got out of the sandbox and Tim brushed Salma off before they headed home.
All in all, that hadn't been so bad, even if he was now thinking more and more that he'd been far too lax in dealing with his situation in the past, and he couldn't do that anymore.
He'd figure something out.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Bri looked at the photo on the desk. The study was her father's domain. Anything in the desk was his. That meant that this picture was his. She sat down at the desk and picked up the picture. She didn't remember it at all, but then, it was from when she was really little, but it made her smile painfully. That was the father she had lost and the one she still wanted.
And, logically, she knew that she wouldn't have had that father even if her dad hadn't left them all those years ago. If he had been in the CIA, he would have changed. She knew better than most how the CIA could change a person.
But she wasn't very logical about her father. She didn't want to have to accept the changes. She had lost years she could have had with the father in this picture and there was no way to get them back.
...but she also stood to lose what years her father had left if she didn't do anything about it. He had almost died three years ago, coming so close that he had taken months to recover even what he had. And now, she had seen how weak he still was and always would be...but how much he was still willing to do if he deemed it necessary.
Bri knew that what she wanted the most was impossible. The question was whether or not she was willing to give it all up because she couldn't have this photograph back again.
"I thought you'd left."
Bri looked up in surprise and saw her father standing there, looking, not at her, but at the picture in her hand.
"I wouldn't go without saying good-bye."
"To your mother."
"Or to you," Bri said.
Levi walked over and sat down across from her. He held out his hand and she gave him the photo. He looked at it and she was surprised to see the same regret she felt cross his face. And she didn't question the sincerity because she knew that, even in expressions, he wouldn't lie.
"I can't give you this, Bri," he said, finally. "There's no way that I can. This man doesn't exist any longer. He hasn't for far too many years."
"I know."
"If this is what you want from me, you'll never get it." He looked at her. "Is this what you want from me?"
"Yes," Bri said, "but I know it can't happen."
"I haven't asked because the answer has always been no whether you'd admit to it or not, but I'll ask now. This is basically the same question I asked your mother when I asked her to marry me again. Can you accept the man I am, the father I am now? I know it's not what you want, but can you accept it?"
That was the home question. It was the question she'd asked herself far too many times, ever since her mother had told her something of who her father had been and some of the things that had made him who he was. Maybe she'd see how far this sincerity would go.
"Mom told me about what your mom taught you about lying."
There was a sudden tension in the room, and Bri could tell that this was something he didn't like to talk about. That told her as much as anything else how serious it was to him.
"Do you really feel that lying is the worst thing you could do?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Then, Levi reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Carefully, slowly, he opened it and reverently pulled out a different photograph. He slid it across the desk. She could see that it was very old and faded. There were four men who were obviously nearly starved to death.
"Because that is what lies create," he said softly, looking at the picture. "That is my father, grandfather and one uncle. The only one who survived to come here was my father. The others are dead. And my father died from what happened to him there. ...because people lied about the Jews. Bri, this is my history. A horror so monumental that some people don't even want to admit that it happened. The one thing I could not do is allow it to happen again."
Then, he looked at her, and she could see the horror reflected in his eyes. All these years later, and it was still as real to him as if it had happened yesterday. To Bri, it was history. It was real but in the distant past. To her father, it was his life. And for some reason, he suddenly became a human being again. All the things she'd seen before hadn't really done that, but this, the reality of what scared him more than anything else, it made him human in a way she couldn't really explain.
Perhaps that was why she could say something she still wasn't sure about.
"I can accept that," she said, finally.
And then, she got a secret thrill when Levi looked genuinely surprised. Then, he smiled at her and took back the photo of his father and the photo of the two of them and put them both into his wallet.
"Okay."
Bri smiled and stood up.
"I'll tell you when I'm leaving."
"Okay."
She left the study, feeling lighter than she had in years.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Zahara sat on the couch, trying not to worry about Tim taking Salma out by himself. Jethro was sitting beside her, his head on her knee and she was petting him absently.
As she sat there, she thought of two events. One was the first time Tim had told her that he loved her. It was back in Marrakech when they'd been first dating. He had invited her to his riad and told her that he loved her and he wanted to be with her but that being with him could be dangerous. At the time, she had only thought of physical danger, and even so, she hadn't been overly worried about it. After all, she had seen the kinds of things that could happen to people. It wasn't as though her life had been extremely sheltered in that respect. Her worries had all been about what would happen if she allowed herself to love someone from such a different world. She could never have anticipated what had happened in the last few weeks.
But then, then other moment was from their wedding day. They had exchanged vows and she had said that any challenge was worth the risk because she loved him and she had promised that she would always try to help him when his fear overcame him.
Now, that promise was being tested in a way she could never have known was coming. While she had seen the nightmares and Tim's fear manifested through them, she had not ever seen this depth of psychological pain, but at the same time, perhaps she should have understood it. When Tim had been dying in the desert, he had been in great physical pain, but he had told her, even then, that it was the pain in his mind that had been the worst. Regardless, her feelings were unchanged. This was a challenge. It was hard. It was even painful, but she still loved her husband and she knew that Tim hated that he was held back by his own mind. He was struggling to get back to normal but it would take time.
She felt their son kick a little bit and she tried to calm herself down so that he would calm down. She was due in just a few weeks and she hoped that Tim would be in a state to see it as a blessing rather than just another source of stress and anxiety. There was no reason to expect the baby to come early, but it was still a possibility.
Then, the door opened and Tim came inside with Salma. Salma was over the moon with happiness and Tim was even smiling a little at her antics.
"Mama! I slide and I swing!" she said excitedly.
Zahara smiled.
"That's wonderful, Salma. What else did you do?"
"We played in the sand," Tim said. "You know, when we finally buy a house, we need to get a sandbox. That's where we spent most of our time today."
Zahara held out her hand to Tim and he took it. He sat down beside her and she could feel that he was trembling a little.
"It is all right, Tim," she said softly.
"I might even believe that later on," Tim whispered back.
"You will."
Salma ran over and grabbed her crayons and paper and started drawing. It was so normal that Zahara wanted to cry. While Tim was still struggling, this was normal. Time at the park, followed by drawing, probably pictures of what they had been doing at the park.
"Have you talked to Levi or Tamara lately?" Tim asked, keeping his voice low.
"No. Why?"
"I think I'm going to need his help."
"For what? He is so weak now, Tim."
"Not for anything physical. He said he would help me, and... I need to find some way to keep this from happening again. I can't go through it myself and I don't want you to go through it again, either. I need to figure something out, and Levi might be able to think of something since my brain is still jammed."
"Baba! Look!" Salma said, holding up a piece of paper.
"What is it, Salma?" Tim asked.
"This, you! This, me! This, Norris!"
"Norris?" Zahara asked.
"One of my guards. I was talking to him while Salma was on the slide."
"About what?"
"About how many there were watching us right now. I needed the reassurance."
Zahara leaned her head on Tim's shoulder.
"You will be fine, Tim. You are getting better already and every time you smile, I feel better."
Then, the door opened and Sam and Naomi got back. The conversation was over for the moment, but Zahara watched as Tim joined Salma at the table to talk about what they had done at the park.
He was better, and as Dr. Hicks had said, he would keep getting better, even if it seemed to take too long.
It was happening.