Chapter 25
"Ziva, I'm surprised you're not running off to Maine now that we know exactly where Tim is," Oliver said.
Ziva sighed and looked up from her sandwich.
"I would like to."
"But?" Oliver asked.
"But Tim would not want me to."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he has been gone for so long. Gibbs told us that he is not in a good situation. He will need time to adjust to being with us again. His family needs a chance to be with him. I must wait until he is ready for us." She smiled a little and kissed him on the cheek. "And for seeing how much has changed in the time he has been gone."
"I hope I'm an okay change."
"You know that you are," Ziva said. She held up her hand. "I would not have accepted this if I did not mean it."
"I know," Oliver said. Then, he looked a little shame-faced. "It's hard being the replacement sometimes, you know. Teresa and I both feel it. We never knew Abby but we know that some people are still comparing us to her even after a year, and that's not always the easiest thing to deal with. I try not to let it get to me, but it is hard."
"You are definitely not a replacement for me," Ziva said. "I admit that it is sometimes still a little strange to see the lab without Abby there, but you are not strange to see. It is the lack of Abby, not the addition of you."
"Thanks... I think," Oliver said, scrunching his face up a little. "And Tim?"
"I told you before that he has always been a good friend and nothing more. But I think he will have a hard time coming back and seeing Abby gone. You may have to give him time."
"I can do that," Oliver said. "And I think I won't bring up the fact that I loved his book for a while. I don't think he'd appreciate it."
Ziva smiled. "Probably not at the first."
"Do you think he will come back here?"
"I do not know. It has been a long time. It is possible that he will move on, but I think he can only move on by coming back... at least for a time."
Oliver hesitated and then took her hand. "Do you need that?"
Ziva raised an eyebrow but she didn't question what Oliver was asking. She knew.
"I do not think so. My father is not happy, as I suspected, but I have been firm. He can accept my marriage or he can reject me. I will not compromise. You may have to deal with him coming here to demand compliance, but I have made my choice." She squeezed his hand. "You are strong enough to withstand him, and I will be with you, as well."
"I think I'd rather exchange letters than have to deal with the head of Mossad. That doesn't sound like a fair match-up."
Ziva laughed. "He may not come at all. I do not know what his choice will be."
"I'm ready as long as you are, too."
"I am ready. And once he is better, I will enjoy seeing the expression on Tim's face when he realizes that I am getting married."
Oliver laughed and squeezed her hand once before letting it go so that they could both finish eating.
"What do you think? Did his family wait at all?"
"No," Ziva said, shaking her head. "I suspect that they are either already there or almost there."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"This is it?" Sam asked, looking around. "Not much to it."
"No," Naomi said. "But this is the address Ziva gave us."
She drove them into a driveway in front of a small, unassuming house in a small town.
She stopped the car and none of them got out.
"Okay. Let me go and see if we have the right place and see if Tim will talk to us," Naomi said.
"All right," Sam said.
"No. I want to be there, too," Sarah said.
"You'll get a chance, Sarah. I just want to make sure Tim is ready for us."
Sarah looked rebellious but she nodded reluctantly. Naomi got out of the car and walked to the front door. She knocked politely and waited. After a few seconds, the door opened and she actually stepped back for a moment. The man who opened the door was very large. He seemed to fill the whole space. It was the last thing she'd expected, but then, she smiled.
"Hello, I'm looking for my son. Tim McGee. Is he here?"
The man looked surprised and then smiled.
"Hello, I'm Mark. I've been annoying your son on a regular basis for the last couple of months."
"Your voice sounds familiar," Naomi said. Then, it struck her. "Were you the person who called me?"
"Yeah. Sorry that I didn't give you any information. I was trying to do what Tim wanted and what I thought was right at the same time. And he was still adamant about not seeing anyone."
"That's all right. They've warned us about how Tim has been feeling. Is he willing to see us?"
"To be honest, I don't know. Tim has gone through a lot of ups and downs and sometimes, what makes the most sense to me isn't what he ends up doing. He just got out of the hospital yesterday, and he's been pretty quiet today. I got someone to mind the store so I could hang out here while he's getting settled again. Come inside and I'll see."
Naomi nodded and stepped just inside the door. She looked back to the car for a moment and focused her attention on the house, or rather on what she hoped she'd see inside the house. Mark walked back to a door and knocked.
"Tim, your mom is here."
There was a long pause and Mark looked at her. He was clearly uncertain, but he knocked again.
"Tim, you know that you have to at least answer. Otherwise, I'm just opening the door. I've done it before and I'll do it again."
Another long pause and then, just when Naomi was about to say that maybe they should come back and try again later, the door opened. Tim stepped out of the room and looked at his mother. Naomi was dismayed at what she saw. Whatever Tim had been doing over the last year had broken him physically and mentally. He looked shaky and uncertain in a way she'd never seen before.
That was why she overcame her instinct to run to him and hug him and stood where she was instead.
"Tim?" she asked.
He looked at her and then down at the floor.
"Tim... I've been so worried about you," she said, keeping her voice low and unaccusing.
"I told you to forget about me."
"I couldn't ever do that. You're my son. My only son, and I could no more forget you than you could forget us. You know it."
Tim nodded at the floor.
"Tim, I'm your mother. I love you. I always will. I love you so much that I'm willing to leave you alone if that's what you really want, not what you think I should have, but what you want. Is it?"
Tim didn't answer.
"I need to know, Tim. Because there's no way that I can leave you here the way you are... unless you are determined to force me to do it."
"Abby's dead, Mom," Tim said, almost whispering.
"I know. I'm sorry that she is. I'm so sorry about what happened to her."
Another silent pause.
"Tim, are you going to force me to leave?"
"No," he whispered.
"Good."
Now, Naomi walked across the chasm separating her from her son and she hugged him tightly.
"Tim, you don't need to punish yourself for what happened. And even if you believe that you do, we're not going to give up on you," she said.
Tim suddenly hugged her back and he started to cry. Mark smiled and withdrew from the room, giving them privacy. Naomi was grateful for it.
"I can't see that, Mom," he said.
"That's all right. I'll see it for you, for now."
Tim's hold on her was one of desperation and she could feel him trembling a little bit. This level of pain and grief frightened her, but Naomi wasn't one to shrink away from a difficult situation. She'd faced plenty of them in her lifetime. So she held him until she felt him relax just a little.
Then, she tried to see how far his need for support would go.
"Tim, your father and your sister are out in the car, waiting. Will you let them come in, too?"
She felt him tense, although he was dreaming if he had thought that only she would come.
He didn't answer her.
"Tim, Sarah needs you," Naomi said, after a moment. "She really needs you. It's not just about us wanting to help you. It's also about the fact that your sister needs to see you again. It's only been in the last few weeks that we've been able to convince her to do something with her life. She was determined to do nothing until we found you."
"I can't help her. I can't help anyone," Tim said.
"Yes, you can. All you have to do is let your sister see you and be with you. That's all it will take. Please, Tim. Do that much. I know you can."
Yet another long pause and then, Tim pulled away from her. She could see the streaks from the tears he'd cried. She could see his pain, but it was easier to heal when one didn't only focus on oneself. Even if all he could do was let Sarah hug him, it would help because he'd see that his presence could be a source of healing.
"Please, Tim?"
"Okay," he said.
"Thank you."
She squeezed his arm and then went outside quickly, before Tim could change his mind.
Sarah got out of the car as soon as Naomi stepped out the door.
"Can I see him?" she asked, almost begging.
"Yes, but be easy on him, Sarah. Do not accuse him of leaving us behind. No berating him. All you need to do right now is be there for your brother. He can't handle anything else. Okay?"
Sarah nodded and then ran into the house while Naomi went to get Sam's wheelchair.
"Are you sure you should let her go?" Sam asked. "I love her, but she's not always the most tactful."
"Yes. Tim has someone in there to help him if need be," Naomi said.
She got his chair and Sam was in it as quickly as he could.
"You won't be ready for what he looks like, Sam," Naomi said.
"That's fine. I don't care. No more than you did."
"I care."
"Not enough to avoid seeing him," Sam said, with a solemn smile. "I'm his father. He's my son. For now, that's all that matters."
They went into the house and Sarah was hugging Tim tightly. She was crying.
"Tim, I missed you so much," she said more than once. "I was so afraid I'd never see you again."
Tim was hugging her back, not saying anything, but being there.
"'All healing is first a healing of the heart.' Carl Townsend," Sam said quietly.
Then, he rolled over to Tim. Tim looked at him and then Sarah let him go and stood aside. Tim looked almost afraid and Naomi knew that Sam would hate to see that emotion in Tim.
"Dad," he whispered.
"'Repentant tears wash out the stain of guilt,'" Sam said. "St. Augustine. Ayn Rand. 'The worst guilt is to accept an unearned guilt.' You know I would have won."
Tim nodded.
Sam reached out his hand, allowing Tim to make the decision about whether or not to take it.
"Tim, I love you. You're my son, and nothing can change that," he said.
Since his paralysis, Sam had always needed to have Tim's cooperation to some degree. Tim could easily get away from him and so it had forced Sam to reach out and hope that Tim would allow him to help.
Tim stood there, looking at him, for a long moment. Naomi hoped that Tim would reach out. While she and Sarah could easily force him to accept them, Sam couldn't.
"I... I can't fix it, Dad," Tim said, finally.
"You don't have to. You can grieve and that's right, but you can't take the blame for what someone else did. You don't have to fix anything, Tim. Just let yourself start to heal."
His hand was still outstretched.
Finally, Tim stepped forward and knelt down in front of Sam. He hugged him tightly and started to cry again. Sam hugged him back and rocked him a little.
He looked at Naomi with tears in his own eyes and then looked down at Tim once more.
"Kahlil Gibran. 'Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars,'" he said softly. "And you never have to suffer alone, Tim. Never."
Then, he simply held his son and said nothing more.
Even though it was painful to see the depths of Tim's torment after all these months, what Naomi saw most was that the family was back together. It was going to be hard, perhaps frustrating, but they would still be together.