Chapter 34

Tim sat in the living room, waiting for his family to come and get him. He was still very ambivalent about leaving here. At the same time, he hungered for more than he'd allowed himself to have.

"Well, Tim, ready to go?"

Tim looked up, startled, and saw Mark smiling.

"Yes... no... I don't know. I... I'm going," he finished, lamely.

Mark got a sympathetic expression on his face and walked over.

"You need to do this, Tim," he said as he sat down.

"I know."

"Good. I'm glad you've made that much progress. But remember that you can come back here if you need to...or even just if you want to. You're always welcome in Maine."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and I have something for you," Mark said and got up.

"Mark... I already owe you way more than..."

"No, this is yours anyway."

Mark left the room for a moment and then came back with a wad of cash.

"Why are you giving me money?" Tim asked. "I don't need any."

"This is yours," Mark said, holding it out.

"What are you talking about?"

"You paid for quite a bit of alcohol that I ended up confiscating. In fact, the reason you couldn't find it was because I put it back in my store for sale. ...at least, the stuff that was obviously untouched. The rest of it I threw out. So this is your money."

"Oh. I don't need it," Tim said, shaking his head and trying to push it back. "Really, Mark, I don't need the money."

"Then, take it and do something worthwhile with it. You don't have to spend it on yourself. Find something."

Mark took the bills and shoved them into Tim's bag.

"And no taking it out until you're going to do something meaningful with it."

There was a moment of silence.

"Could you tell Harris thanks?" Tim asked. "I tried calling him but he didn't answer. I mean, he knows I'm leaving, but..."

"I'll tell him."

"Thanks. He'll probably be glad I'm gone."

"Yeah, he will... because that means that you're taking the next step toward getting back to your life."

Tim sighed. "Coming here was easier than leaving."

"That's because you weren't thinking when you came. Now that you're thinking, you know it's going to be hard. But it's still right."

"Yeah."

Then, there was a knock on the door.

"Looks like it's time," Mark said.

He walked over to the door and opened it.

"Tim, come on!" Sarah said. "It's time to go."

"Okay, Sarah," Tim said. He took a deep breath and stood up.

He walked over to the door and held out his hand. Then, he was surprised when Mark suddenly gave him a hug.

"I'm not going to pretend that it was all easy, but I'm glad I met you, Tim," he said.

"Thanks, Mark," Tim said, quietly. "I'm still not always happy about it, but you saved my life."

Mark let him go and smiled.

"About time you admitted it," he said. "Now, go off and get the rest of it."

Tim nodded and let Sarah drag him out of the house and to the car. He got in and Sam looked back at him as Naomi backed the car up.

"Are you ready, Tim?"

"I guess I have to be," Tim said.

"You are," Sarah said. "You're going to be fine, Tim. I know it."

Tim took another deep breath and looked out the windshield as Naomi began driving them away from Maine.

"Yeah," he whispered.

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

The drive down from Maine was uneventful. It was also a little strained and awkward as they tried to look forward to DC, all the while knowing that Tim was still ambivalent about it. They got to DC late in the night and decided to stay in a hotel together. Tim would be staying with Ducky while he looked for a new apartment and tried to put his life back in order. Sarah had suggested that she stay with him, too, but Sam and Naomi insisted that she start looking at college accommodations and they were staying until that was figured out.

If he was honest, Tim was relieved that he wouldn't have Sarah with him all the time. He knew that he had scared her, that she was afraid that he would disappear again, but he couldn't handle having her hang on him. His own mental state was hard enough to deal with.

The next morning, Tim gathered his things to go over to Ducky's. He knew his family was staring at him. He was trying not to let that bother him.

"Tim, are you all right with this?" Sam asked.

"Which part?" Tim asked, focusing on his duffle.

"All of it. Coming back to DC, going back to your job, staying here, finding an apartment. All of it."

"I don't know. That's why I'm here. To find out."

"What if you can't?" Sarah asked, quietly.

"I don't know."

"You need a plan," Naomi said. "You need something to fall back on if you decide you can't make it here. I don't want to encourage you to think negatively, but you need to be realistic."

"What do you want me to do?" Tim asked.

"Look at me for one thing," Naomi said.

Tim looked up and he could see the concern in her eyes. He knew that he still wasn't acting like himself, but he couldn't manage that yet.

"You need to promise yourself that you won't start running again. In any sense."

"Myself? Not you?"

"You stand the most to lose, Tim," Sam said. "So it's yourself you should promise. 'If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong.' Masaru Emoto."

"I'm not sure that follows, Dad," Tim said. "Michel de Montaigne. 'The soul which has no fixed purpose in life is lost; to be everywhere, is to be nowhere.'"

"'It is worth remembering that the time of greatest gain in terms of wisdom and inner strength is often that of greatest difficulty.' The Dalai Lama."

Tim took a breath and looked back at his bag.

"'No wing of wind the region swept,
But over all things brooding slept,
The quiet sense of something lost.'"

"Tennyson," Sarah said softly.

That got Tim's attention. Usually, Sarah didn't participate in the quote wars. She had rebelled much sooner than Tim had and that meant she hadn't memorized nearly as much as Tim. But this time, she finished the poem Tim had quoted.

"'Who show'd a token of distress?
No single tear, no mark of pain:
O sorrow, then can sorrow wane?
O grief, can grief be changed to less?

O last regret, regret can die!
Not mixt with all this mystic frame,
Her deep relations are the same,
But with long use her tears are dry.'"

Sarah was quiet. They all were for a few seconds. Then, she looked at Tim.

"Tim, it can get better. It wasn't the same thing, but... when Jeff died... It was hard, but it's been better. If you just keep working on it. Time helps."

Tim walked over and hugged Sarah tightly. She hugged him back.

"I love you, Tim," she whispered. "I don't want to see you lost."

"I already am," Tim whispered back.

"You don't have to stay that way. Just try."

"I am."

"Then, you'll make it. I know you will."

Tim could only hope she was right.

Later that day, his parents dropped him off at Ducky's place and let him begin the process.

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

Ducky woke up early and considered the possibilities for how this day might go. Tim was headed back to the Navy Yard for the first time in a year. He wasn't back to normal. His mental health was shaky. Everyone was anxious. Ducky didn't see how this could ever be easy.

And yet, a start had to be made. Even if it was faltering.

Finally, he got out of bed and got ready for the day. He could make breakfast and be sure that Tim started off on the right foot, at least physically. When he was ready, he went downstairs and into the kitchen. He didn't know how much Tim had been eating, but it probably wasn't enough given his overall appearance. Ducky knew that Tim had been staying with someone in Maine for the last few weeks that he'd been there, but he didn't think Tim had been eating well before that. In fact, he had likely been doing active damage to his body rather than caring for it. So a good meal was probably beneficial in more ways than one.

To that end, he decided to make pancakes. He was halfway done when he heard the door to his spare room open. He almost went to check on Tim but then decided to give him a little bit of space. Instead, he finished making breakfast and by the time all the pancakes were made, Tim was walking into the kitchen. A bit hesitantly, true, but he was coming in.

"Hi, Ducky," he said.

Ducky was interested in how even Tim's voice had changed. It was softer, more hesitant, as if he was afraid of any kind of attention.

"Good morning, Timothy. Breakfast is ready if you are."

"I guess I have to be," Tim said, but he did smile a little.

"Indeed. Have a seat, lad."

They ate breakfast together. It was a little awkward, but Ducky did his best to keep things relaxed and simple. Tim didn't need stressful questions on his first day back. When they both were finished, they cleaned up and then, it was time to go.

"Are you ready to go?"

Tim just shrugged and went to get his bag.

"Timothy, wait."

Tim stopped but didn't turn around.

"Do you ever go there?" he asked softly. "Where she was?"

"Yes, on occasion."

"Does it hurt?"

"Somewhat. The pain has eased over time."

"Has it?"

"Yes... because I've tried to let it."

Tim turned around and he looked genuinely afraid.

"I don't know if I can do this, Ducky," he said. "I don't know if I can... be... there... knowing that Abby won't ever be there again."

Ducky walked over and put his hands on Tim's shoulders.

"Timothy, you knew Abigail very well. In some ways, you may have known her better than we, but certainly, you knew her as well. You know that she wouldn't want this to hold you back."

Tim nodded.

"Remember that the first day will be hard. The first week will be hard. Perhaps, even the first month. You just need to take it day by day, and it will get easier."

Tim nodded again.

"Don't force it," Ducky said. "It will happen."

One more nod and Tim took a deep breath.

"Today, just focus on getting through. More will come."

"Will I get that long?" Tim whispered and forced a laugh. "I'm sure Director Shepard didn't want me back. She didn't want me there to begin with."

"You'll get the time you need."

Tim nodded for a fourth time and Ducky knew that there wouldn't be any real relaxation until Tim had actually gone through the return. So instead of pushing it, he simply let Tim get his things and then, they headed to the Yard together.

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

They were walking up to the front doors.

Tim was amazed at how normal everything looked. But at the same time, he was terrified by how normal everything looked. Even now, he didn't feel normal, not in any sense of the word. He felt weak, stretched, pained, and seeing NCIS looking the same as it always had... but knowing that there would be no Abby in there to greet him, to berate him for staying away, to let him know just how much she wanted him back... he couldn't face it yet.

"Ducky, I need a few minutes," he said.

Ducky paused.

"You go in. I just need to sit out here for a little while."

Ducky's expression was nothing less than sympathetic.

"I can wait with you, lad."

Tim shook his head. "No. You have real work to do. I just need to... build up to it. I'm going to sit over in the park for a few minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Ducky patted him on the arm.

"Remember, lad, that it will be hard. There's no way around that, but the fight is worth it."

"Yeah. I remember."

Ducky patted him on the arm one more time and then walked into the building. Tim walked to Willard Park and sat down on a bench. He rested his elbows on his knees and sat there, looking at the place where Abby wasn't, wondering if he could really do it.

"I thought you'd be out celebrating."

Tim shook his head. He'd never felt less like celebrating than he did right at this moment. In fact, he didn't think anything in his life had felt worse than he felt right now.

"No," he said simply. There were no words for how much it was not the time for celebration.

Abby smiled and held out her arms.

"Did you come down here for a hug?"

"What did you find out?" he asked, silently begging for something to break the impasse.

Abby put her arms down and looked sympathetic.

"I ran every test I could think of. The slugs are too damaged. There's no way to find out who fired the kill shot. Does it really matter?"

Tim stood there, staring at Abby, knowing that she didn't understand how he felt, wishing she did. Wishing that someone understood how this felt. He sighed.

"Yeah. It matters," Tim said softly to himself. It would always matter.

"Hey, you all right?"

Tim was startled out of his thoughts and he looked up to see a man looking at him with some concern in his expression. He wasn't particularly tall and he was a little overweight.

"Jury's still out on that," he said, looking at the building again.

"You're Tim McGee, aren't you."

"Yeah. ...who are you?"

"Oliver Felt."

That name seemed a little familiar, but Tim couldn't place it at first.

"I've seen your picture a lot, but I've never actually met you."

Then, it clicked. This was the man who had taken Abby's place. He walked over to Tim and put out his hand.

"Nice to meet you."

Tim wasn't sure he could actually shake his hand. He looked up at him without moving.