Chapter 44
Gibbs watched as Tim carefully measured out the trim for the jewelry box he was working on. He had said he had an idea for the box, but he hadn't said what it was yet. If he was feeling enough recovered to think about the details of the box, Gibbs was all for it, no matter what the idea was. He had asked Gibbs if he had the leftover blue stain from the headboard he'd made and it was sitting beside the box.
Tim had said almost nothing this time. He had come and asked to get to work. Gibbs had let him. So now, he was just working. Gibbs had worked some, but now, he was just sitting on a stool, sipping some bourbon and watching Tim work, wondering if there would be any conversation this time or if Tim just wanted to work.
Suddenly, Tim put down the tools. For a few minutes, he was standing there, doing nothing. Gibbs wondered if he should say something, if Tim was having a silent meltdown, but then, Tim turned around to face him. The strain was still there, but he was definitely better than he had been. No sign of meltdown right now. It was more worry.
"Boss, did something happen to Tony?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"He was there...at the... the house, wasn't he?" Tim asked, looking anxious as he mentioned his recent trauma, even obliquely.
"Yeah, he was."
"And I think I remember him being at the hospital that first night."
"He was."
"But since then... nothing. Did something happen? Did he get hurt? Something else?"
Gibbs had been afraid this would come up, that eventually, Tim would recover to the point that he noticed Tony was AWOL. He had hoped that Tony would talk to Tim before that happened, but he hadn't.
"He didn't get hurt," Gibbs said, knowing he was dodging.
...and Tim knew it, too.
"Then, where is he? I know I'm hard to be around right now, but I don't remember seeing him at all. Even Jimmy and Breena have visited once. He doesn't have to be there... I mean... I know that. It's just that..." Tim shrugged and looked away.
"He...had a hard time while you were... gone."
"Why?"
"Because he couldn't deal with it. Felt it was still his fault."
Tim looked back and seemed really distresssed.
"No! It wasn't! I told him that I didn't blame him, that I wanted him to let that go. He said he'd work on it and then he never said anything more about it."
"He lied," Gibbs said, bluntly. "He never worked on it. He said what he knew you wanted to hear."
Tim sat down on a stool and stared at the floor.
"I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't think I would. I knew that you'd look for me. I knew you'd try to find me, that you'd worry, but I didn't want to hurt anyone."
"Tim, it hurt us the way it would have hurt you if one of us had been taken. Can't help that."
"But what you're saying about Tony is different."
"Yeah."
"Why wouldn't he try? I know it's hard, but why not?"
"Don't know. You'd have to ask him."
Tim looked up.
"Does he not want to be around me now? Am I going to make it harder for him at work? Should I–?"
Gibbs hurried to cut off that line of thinking because he could see exactly where it was leading when Tim wasn't in the best mental state.
"No. That's not it. He's working on it now and it's getting better."
"I don't want to make it harder for anyone. I don't want..."
"Tim, he's working on it. It'll be all right."
Tim dropped his head again. "But it's not."
"Not yet, but it will be."
Tim still seemed strangely upset about Tony's situation. The thing was that Gibbs wasn't sure if it was because Tony was having problems or because Tony had lied.
"Tim, what's your plan for the box?"
"What?" Tim asked, sounding a little listless.
"What are you going to do with the box?"
Tim shrugged, his mind clearly no longer on the box at all. Gibbs knew he had to be patient while Tim got back to himself again, but this was a frustrating time when he was almost okay but not quite. Right now, he was fixated on something that upset him and it was hard to get him thinking about the easier things as he tried to work it out in a mind that just was not quite there yet.
"Tim, the box."
He looked up at Gibbs and then back at the box.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes, it does."
"Why? When everything else is falling apart?"
"It's not. Tim, it's getting better. For everyone. Just think about the box for a while."
Tim looked at the box again. Gibbs could almost see him trying to set aside being upset. He took a breath and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. He held it out to Gibbs.
"I want to do this on the top," he said.
It was blue. Of course. It seemed that, if Tim's perfect life could have a particular color, it was this deep blue. But what caught Gibbs' attention more was that this was a mosaic. Tim and Zahara had worked on a mosaic tile piece of artwork and Tim had given the finished product to Zahara as a wedding present, but he hadn't done anything with tile since then that Gibbs knew, and that one had been relatively simple. This was a complicated starburst pattern, all blues and white. If he was going to do this pattern himself, he'd be placing a lot of little tiles.
"You sure about this, Tim? It looks complicated."
Tim nodded. "It is. I bought the tiles and they're tiny. It'll take forever. Maybe, by the time I'm done... maybe, I'll be normal again." He looked at the box.
In a way, this was the worst time in Tim's recovery. He was recovered enough to know just how much he wasn't recovered, but he wasn't recovered enough to really believe that it would still get better. That meant that they needed to get him through this period without letting him regress because of how much he still need to get better.
So Gibbs walked over to Tim and put his hands on Tim's shoulders.
"Tim, you're getting better. You don't need to do this to be normal. You just need to keep on as you are. You're going to be okay."
"I want to be happy again, Boss. I want to feel normal again. When I let myself get angry and hate them, it was self-defense because it was either be angry or lose all control of myself. But now... I feel like I've lost it. I don't blame Tony for not wanting to be around me. I don't want to be around me, either."
Gibbs shook him.
"You went through something hard. It's going to be hard to get back, but you're already a lot better than you were. You just need to keep it up."
"I have to... for Zahara. When the baby comes, I have to be able to help her. I can't if I'm falling apart."
"Yeah, but for yourself, too," Gibbs said. "You deserve to be happy again, Tim. It's not all about everyone else."
Tim stood there for a few seconds and then nodded. Finally, he looked at Gibbs again and smiled just a little.
"I still want to do the mosaic."
Gibbs smiled back.
"Then, do it."
"Okay."
Tim turned back to the box and opened up the stain, prepared to get to work again.
He ended up staying until he had finished staining and then he went home. After he was gone, Gibbs walked over and checked his work.
He smiled. Even with all the chaos he was dealing with, Tim still had straight sides and no brush strokes visible in his staining. Gibbs hoped that the mosaic tile would look as good as the box did right now.
Then, he went to bed, hoping for things to be better tomorrow.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Levi was sitting in his study, late in the morning, looking at his plan. It would require active participation from Tim in order to work. Would it really work? He wasn't sure, but it had a good chance of working. And it would probably help Tim if he felt that he was doing something about his situation rather than letting others do it for him. However, it would also require that Tim do something he tried not to do.
Brag about himself. Levi knew that Tim used to enjoy having others know his skills, but since it was his skills that made people want to use him, he had stopped drawing attention to what he could do. Instead of leading to people forgetting about him, that approach had only made him more mysterious and more discussed. That being the case, something needed to be done. Something different.
So it was time to give it a try.
And it was time to do something he'd actually never done before.
Go to Tim's home.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tony sat at his desk and looked over at Tim's empty desk. He hadn't even tried to speak to Tim since all this had gone down. Now, he didn't know how to do anything different. He hadn't tried to see how Tim was. He hadn't really done anything beyond avoid everyone.
"Tony?"
He looked over at Ziva, still a little unsure of what they'd talked about.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want Tim to come back?"
Tony looked back at Tim's desk. Right at this moment, the answer could possibly be no because the Tim in his head was the broken one, the one that reinforced over and over again what Tony himself had done, and maybe revealing Tim's identity had more long-term consequences, but what he always saw was Tim falling to his knees with a scream of pain after Tony had hit him on the back, not realizing he had been hit by shrapnel. What he always remembered was Tim kneeling on the floor by his desk, white, shaking... and saying the same thing over and over again.
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay."
It wasn't then. It wasn't now. It was not okay, and yet, Tim had kept saying it over and over again, as if saying it would somehow change things.
"Tony?"
Tony took a breath and stood up. He walked away from the bullpen, but Ziva followed behind him. It took only a moment for her to grab his arm and stop him.
"Tony, what is it?"
"I keep seeing it in my head," he said. "Every time something happens to Tim, do you know what I see?"
"What?"
"Me hitting Tim on the back when he had been hit by shrapnel and nearly making him pass out from the pain. I didn't even know what I was doing to him. It was like..." He shook his head. "It couldn't have been worse if I'd pulled my gun and shot him. Right now... that's all I can see."
"It's not like that, Tony," Ziva said, earnestly. "Tim is still shaky, but it is not like that. And you know he does not blame you for it. He has told you before."
"I know," Tony said, avoiding her eyes.
"What will it take for you to accept it?"
"I don't know."
"You need to talk to Tim about this, Tony. If it is that much of a problem, you need to talk to him," Ziva said, firmly.
"Not now."
"Maybe not now, but you need to. You cannot let it go if you refuse to acknowledge the problem."
Tony forced a laugh.
"Has Dr. Hicks been giving you talking points?"
"No. These are things you already know, but you refuse to admit. Tony, I said I would help you, but you have to try, too," Ziva said. "I need you to try. Ignoring it, pretending it's not a problem will not make it any better."
"I know."
"Then, stop just knowing and do it!" Ziva said.
She let him go and walked back to the bullpen. Tony watched her go, and he knew she was right. He knew it.
He took a deep breath and walked back into the bullpen. Ziva was sitting at her desk.
"Ziva?"
"Yes?" she asked, looking up at him.
"Could you keep reminding me?" he asked.
She smiled a little.
"Yes, I can do that."
"Thanks."
He walked back to his desk and sat down. Then, he looked over at Tim's empty desk.
Dr. Hicks kept telling him it would get easy. Tony couldn't help wondering when that would happen.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Levi walked to the door of Tim's building and called up.
"Hello?"
"It's Levi Carew."
"Oh, please, come in."
Levi smiled as the door buzzed and he stepped inside. There were very few people in the world who would be so instantly welcoming. He walked to the elevator and rode up to Tim's floor. Then, he knocked and waited. He heard footsteps walk to the door. Then, there was a pause.
And then, the door opened and Tim himself was standing there, looking surprised.
"Levi... what are you doing here?"
"Breaking our pattern and coming directly to you. May I come in? We need to talk."
"Um... okay," Tim said and stood aside.
Levi walked in, hoping that what he was about to propose would actually help.