Chapter 47

"Tim?"

Tim looked up from the sink in the bathroom. Then, he straightened. Zahara was standing there, her hands on her abdomen.

"Now?" he asked.

"Yes. Salma is with your parents," Zahara said and then grimaced in pain.

For just a moment, Tim was frozen with anxiety. He couldn't do this. He couldn't help Zahara the way she needed. He was going to ruin everything. He was going to hurt her. The litany was running wild in his mind. He was just standing there, looking at his wife, unable to do anything. Zahara walked over to him and grabbed his hands.

"I need you, Tim. You have needed me. Now, I need you. Please."

It took almost all he had, but he forced himself to nod.

"Okay."

Tim took a deep breath and then put his arm around Zahara's waist and supported her out of the apartment and to the car. Every contraction made him afraid that he would mess this up, that he would hurt Zahara, but he kept going. There was no one who could do this. There was no time to call anyone besides her doctor. All he could do was focus on driving them to the hospital.

"You are doing fine, Tim," Zahara said.

"No, I'm not. If you have to comfort me while you're in labor, I'm not," Tim said.

"Yes, you are," Zahara said and then cried out from a sharp pain.

They got to the hospital and Zahara was admitted. Her water hadn't broken yet, but her doctor said labor was progressing quickly, much faster than the first time. Tim stayed beside her, trying to support his wife in some way as she went through the pain of giving birth. He couldn't take her place. He could only be there and not ask for anything for himself. He had to focus himself on his wife and not on anything else.

When Zahara's water broke, he had another moment of absolute fear that his presence was only making things worse. Zahara reached up and looked at him. She was sweating, but she smiled.

"Thank you for being here, Tim," she whispered.

"I couldn't be anywhere else," he said.

Over the next hour, Tim just tried to focus on helping Zahara be as comfortable as possible. He massaged her gently in between each contraction and helped her change position. As the contractions got more painful, Zahara was focused only on that. Tim tried to be focused only on his wife. However, his mind was continually flitting back and forth between wanting to be there for Zahara and wanting to run far away. He never moved from her side.

Finally, it was time for Zahara to start pushing. She was breathing heavily and he knew that the pain was intense. He put his arm around her, supporting her through it until finally, she sagged back against him and the wail of a baby could be heard. He looked down at her and Zahara smiled tiredly up at him.

"Your son is born, Tim," she said, breathlessly. "We did it."

"I didn't do it. It was all you," Tim said.

"No, I could not do it without you. I needed you with me, and you were."

Then, the doctor was bringing their son over to them. He was crying and Zahara reached out to hold him. Tim stood beside Zahara as she rocked their son and comforted him. There were a lot of things that would happen, but for one timeless moment, it was just the three of them. The medical staff was there, but they didn't seem to exist in that moment. Zahara was holding Jonathan and Tim was standing there watching them. Then, Zahara looked up at him and smiled.

"Hold your son, Tim. Hold Jonathan."

Tim was hesitant, and he knew Zahara could tell.

"Hold your son. Tell him how much you love him."

Afraid still, Tim allowed Zahara to hand Jonathan to him. The baby squirmed as Tim took him, but then, he calmed as Tim held him. He looked at his son and in another timeless moment, all he was doing was holding his son. There was nothing else in the world. No computers. No covert ops. No rage. No grief. No nothing. Just the baby in his arms. Jonathan squirmed again and his eyes opened for just a moment. They were a very dark blue, much darker than Salma's eyes had been. Then, the timeless moment was broken as a nurse came to take Jonathan for his health check. Zahara had some minor bleeding but it began to slow on its own and they were able to move her into a room. As soon as she was settled, she fell asleep.

Tim sat where he was for a few minutes, watching his wife get the rest she thoroughly deserved.

Now that it was over, he wasn't sure how he felt.

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

Ducky was sitting in his study, enjoying his afternoon. While he had occasionally regretted his retirement, overall, he enjoyed the leisurely days that he could fill as much or as little as he wanted to.

His phone started to ring and he answered quickly when he saw it was Tim calling him.

"Hello?"

"Ducky, are you busy?"

"No, not at all, lad. How are you?"

"Could you come to the hospital?"

"Are you all right?" Ducky asked. "Zahara?"

There was a pause. Just long enough for Ducky to worry.

"She had the baby and everything went fine. She's sleeping now. Jonathan is in the nursery."

"Congratulations," Ducky said, but he had the feeling that joy was not Tim's current feeling. He hadn't seen much of him in the last few weeks, but he knew that the recovery was taking time.

"Could you come?"

"Of course, but what for?"

"I need some help. I tried to call Dr. Hicks, but he was with a patient. My parents are with Salma right now and I need to call them, but I can't yet. Could you come?"

"Yes, I'm on my way."

"Thanks."

Tim hung up without saying another word. Ducky guessed that Tim was feeling overwhelmed. It had happened before, more than once, and Tim recognized it when it came, but if Dr. Hicks was busy and Zahara was sleeping, Tim's usual sources of support were unavailable. Ducky was glad that Tim was reaching out, but he also was sad that even a joyous occasion like a new baby was tainted by Tim's current psychological problems.

Quickly, he drove over to the hospital and found Tim sitting in the maternity waiting room. He was very still, staring at the floor.

"Timothy?" he asked.

Tim looked up at him and Ducky could see the turmoil. He walked over and put out his hand. Tim took it and Ducky pulled him to his feet. Then, he took Tim by the arm and they found an empty room.

"Everything went all right with the birth?" Ducky asked, forcing Tim to sit down.

"Yeah. It was a lot faster this time than last time," Tim said. "The timing was good because Salma was out with my parents. I sent them a quick message telling them that Zahara was having the baby, but I haven't called them yet."

"And it's a boy?" Ducky asked, watching for the breakdown.

"Yeah. Jonathan Amud McGee," Tim said.

"That's a very strong name."

Tim took a couple of breaths.

"Not like his dad," he said.

Then, the tears came. Ducky had been able to see them coming. He doubted this had happened when Salma was born, but Tim's mental state wasn't the best right now, even if it was far and away better than it had been just a few weeks before.

"I spent the whole time worrying that I was making it too hard for Zahara," Tim said through his tears.

"I'm sure you weren't."

"She was trying to make me feel better. That shouldn't have happened."

"You were with her the whole time, I'm sure."

"Yeah, but it wasn't enough."

"It was."

Tim was still crying and for a few minutes, he didn't speak. Ducky let him cry.

"After she fell asleep, I just couldn't handle it anymore. There was a moment when it was all okay, but then, it wasn't again and I knew that... and I couldn't... and..."

Ducky hugged Tim and let him work through the chaos so that he could finally calm enough to think about what had actually happened, not what he had feared would happen. It took longer than Ducky wanted it to, but eventually, Tim's tears ebbed and the tension began to leave his body. He leaned against Ducky and sighed.

"Thanks, Ducky," he whispered.

"Anytime, Timothy, but I do have to ask why you decided to call on me for this. I know that Jethro has helped you in the past. I wouldn't expect to be your first...or even third choice."

Tim's smile was a little bitter.

"Trying to spread my... my weight around a little. I don't want to overwhelm anyone... except me. ...and I don't want to be overwhelmed, either, but I am. Gibbs already has to deal with me at his house."

"Timothy, no one begrudges you the time you need."

"Maybe, maybe not, but it still sucks."

"Yes, it does. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Some."

"Good. Now, would it be too forward of me to ask to see your son? If you'd rather wait until later, I completely understand. I'm not family."

Ducky was rewarded with a more genuine smile.

"Sure, Ducky."

Tim took a deep breath and stood up.

"He'll be in the room most of the time, but Zahara needed to sleep and so he's in the nursery right now."

They walked back into the maternity ward and Tim led Ducky to the nursery. There weren't very many babies in the nursery, but there were a few. Tim pointed.

"That's Jonathan," he said.

Ducky glanced at Tim and saw more of a smile. It seemed that he could at least be happy about his new family addition.

"He's beautiful," Ducky said. "And everything went all right?"

"Yes. It was fast. Just a few hours. I'm sure Zahara didn't feel like it was fast enough, but it was. I panicked, but I was there."

"Many men panic from what I've been told. No, your reasons weren't quite the same, but I think you would find that they are similar."

"Maybe."

Tim walked with Ducky back to the entrance to the maternity ward.

"I'm going to call my parents so that they can come over and bring Salma once Zahara is awake, but could you tell everyone else?"

"Of course. I'd be happy to."

"Thanks, Ducky." Tim sighed. "I really wanted to be... back to normal by now, or at least by the time my son was born. I don't want anything to affect him."

"You don't have to assume it will, and while I know you hate this process, Timothy, I really think that you're healing as quickly as is possible and do you know what will likely help you the most?"

Proving just how much recovery had already happened, Tim smiled and actually looked a little sheepish.

"If I relax and stop worrying so much?"

"Indeed." Ducky patted Tim on the shoulders. "You are an admirable man, Timothy, and if you have weaknesses, so do all of us. You simply have the misfortune of having to deal with your weaknesses in public view where most of us are able to deal with them in complete privacy."

"I don't think that's the only difference," Tim said.

"Nevertheless, my assessment stands. Let yourself be happy, Timothy. Others' misfortunes are no reason for you to keep yourself from attaining that joy that you deserve."

Tim looked a little startled at the advice but Ducky just smiled once more and left. As he did, he pulled out his phone to start sharing the good news.

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

Zahara woke up, still feeling some pain but feeling much more rested. She looked over and saw Tim, sitting beside the bed, holding Jonathan. He was looking down at their son with a strange expression on his face. She couldn't tell what Tim was thinking, but it didn't seem to be his usual torment. He hadn't noticed that she was awake yet.

She took the opportunity to watch Tim as he sat there in silence. Then, softly, so softly that she almost couldn't hear him, Tim started to hum. He was self-conscious about his voice, even though it was a lovely one to her ear. Then, she was surprised that Tim started singing. Still very softly, but she had almost given up hope of hearing him sing again.

"Summertime and the livin' is easy.|
Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high.
Oh, your daddy's rich, and your ma is good-lookin'
So hush, little baby, baby, don't you cry."

She didn't know the song, so either Tim had never sung it before or else he had only sung it to Salma when he was alone with her.

After that short song, he went back to humming. Then, he looked up and saw Zahara watching him and he blushed a little bit.

"I didn't know you were awake," he said.

"What is that song?" Zahara asked.

"It's a lullaby my mom used to sing to me. Ella Fitzgerald sang it. She's a jazz singer." He smiled.

"Maybe that is why you love jazz music so much."

"Maybe. You want to hold him?"

"Yes."

Tim stood and carefully passed Jonathan over to her. Zahara began to feed him.

"Where are your parents?" Zahara asked.

"They're waiting until you wake up, and they'll bring Salma with them."

"Oh. I am awake," Zahara said, smiling.

"Are you up for visitors?"

"Yes. I am. Call them."

"All right."

Tim called and then they sat together in the room.

"Are you all right, Tim?"

"Now, I am."

"You weren't?"

"I had to call Ducky to help me. I tried Dr. Hicks, but he was busy."

Zahara spared a hand to grab Tim's arm.

"Was it bad?"

"Yeah. Not as bad as it could have been, but it was bad. I'm okay, now."

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I didn't want you to have to worry about me through this. You have enough to worry about."

"Yes, I have just enough," Zahara said, smiling. "I have my husband and now I have two children. That is enough...and I have room to worry about more if we decide to have more children."

"I love you," Tim said.

"Good."

"I'd better go and wait so that my parents can come in."

"All right."

Tim left the room and Zahara leaned back, thinking about the experience. She looked down at Jonathan who seemed to have fallen asleep while nursing and smiled tenderly at him. She had not been able to nurse Salma for more than a few months before she had needed to supplement with formula. It remained to be seen how long it would last with Jonathan. The labor had been different. Salma had taken her time coming and there had even been times, during labor, that Zahara had wondered what was taking so long. Jonathan had come so quickly that it had felt like she'd had no time to breathe even between contractions. In a way, it had been good to be so fast. In another way, it had made it seem worse.

Regardless, she had made it. Jonathan was healthy, and Tim had also made it. He had been with her all through it, just as he had with Salma. And she had seen that he was able to be happy about his second child. If he wasn't fully happy, he would get there.

For now, she was really glad that Tim's parents had decided to stay, even if it meant they were here much longer than they'd originally planned. Having this extra support was just what they had needed to get through these last few weeks.

Then, the door opened and Tim came back in, leading his parents and holding Salma's hand. Salma looked a little uncertain. Tim smiled and picked her up so she could see Jonathan.

"Salma, this is your new little brother, Jonathan," Tim said.

Salma furrowed her brow and stared.

"Brother?"

"Yes. Remember your Aunt Sarah?"

"Yes."

"She's my little sister. Jonathan is your little brother. He was in your mama's tummy and he was born just a few hours ago."

"I touch him?" Salma asked.

"Yes, but be very soft, Salma," Zahara said.

Tim held her out so that she could touch her brother. She hesitated and then started to pet him on the head, very gently. Jonathan stirred but that was all.

"Sleeping?" Salma whispered loudly.

"Yes, he is. He'll sleep a lot for a while," Zahara said.

"May I hold him?" Naomi asked.

"Of course," Zahara said.

Naomi took him and sat down on a chair.

"He's darling," Naomi said.

"'A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on,'" Sam said softly.

"Carl Sandburg," Tim said, equally softly.

Zahara looked at Tim and smiled.

"Exactly, Tim," Sam said.

Then, Salma squirmed until Tim put her down. She ran over to the chair and looked Jonathan again.

"I touch him?" she asked again.

"Yes, but softly," Naomi said. She looked up at Tim and Zahara and smiled.

Salma petted Jonathan again and then stared avidly for a few minutes.

"Do you want to hold him, too, Sam?" Zahara asked.

Naomi looked up and laughed.

"He'll say no."

"Why?"

Sam grinned. "'A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.' Victor Hugo. My arms are not made of tenderness and children do not sleep soundly in my arms."

"Not until they can hold up their own heads," Naomi said. "Sam just doesn't like holding newborns because he's afraid he'll drop them. Once they're home, he'll hold them, but I couldn't get him to hold Tim or Sarah while we were in the hospital."

"And they both turned out well," Sam said. "Obviously, it's working."

Naomi smiled and looked down at Jonathan again.

"You don't know what you're missing, Sam."

"I'm not missing anything," Sam said, smiling. "George Bernard Shaw said, 'a happy family is but an earlier heaven.' That's what I'm seeing here and I couldn't be happier about it."

"'The family is one of nature's masterpieces,'" Tim whispered. "Santayana."

Sam looked at Tim and Zahara saw him smile. She knew that Sam loved to quote people and that he and Tim had a special connection that way, but she wasn't sure she understood the importance of that moment.

"Good one," Sam said. "Now, we don't want to stay too long."

"Yes, I'm sure that you need some rest, Zahara," Naomi said. "Rest and quiet."

"Thank you for bringing Salma," Zahara said. "Our whole family together for the first time."

Tim knelt down by Salma.

"Now, Salma, you're going to stay with your grandma and grandpa tonight while I stay here with your mama. But we'll be coming home soon, okay?"

There was a moment of worry in Salma's eyes, and Zahara knew that she still remembered, even somewhat, Tim's absence before, but she wasn't as afraid as before.

"Okay," she said.

"Good. Give me a hug."

Salma did and then kissed him. Tim picked her up and let her give a hug and kiss to Zahara. Then, Zahara took Jonathan and Sam and Naomi said good-bye, promising to bring Salma back as soon as visiting hours began the next day.

"Are you feeling all right?" Tim asked.

"Yes, but I am very tired. I would like to eat something and then sleep."

"Of course."

Zahara caught Tim's hand as he stood to get her something for dinner.

"You are doing enough, Tim. Be happy."

"I'm trying," he said. "I love you."

"I love you."

Then, Tim took Jonathan and laid him in the bassinet right beside the bed. Zahara leaned back again and relaxed.

Like so much of life, even joyous events were accompanied by some pain. Even if Tim's pain was not physical, he had it, but it was healing. She could see it.

The pain was healing.