Chapter 11

After a couple of days in the hospital, Tim was released, although he was not allowed to return to work right away, and quite frankly, he wasn't sure he felt ready anyway. Abby threatened to smother him with her concern and he was relieved when he could honestly say that he was fine and she could go to work without worrying about him.

The investigation was still ongoing. So far, Knight had been tight-lipped and Donaldson was so far playing dumber than Tim thought he was. They were still working on it, but it was clear that, in spite of Tim's injuries at Knight's hands, the biggest player in this was Horvath and the entire BPD was on the lookout for him to show up somewhere. They were watching airports, boats, and of course, watching in case he wasn't aware that they were onto him.

All in all, things were definitely looking up, but now that he was in his right mind and had so much time to think, Tim's thoughts were back on the fact that he had attempted to start writing again and it had blown up in his face again. Gingerly, he felt the plates that were currently holding his cheekbone together. Figuratively speaking, of course, but a literal bomb could hardly have done more damage. Well, probably it could have.

He sat at his typewriter and sighed as he ran his fingers over the keys, remembering how excited he'd been to get back to it. Well, he'd been smashed into the ground yet again.

At least it was only me getting hurt, not anyone else this time, he thought to himself.

It didn't help.

There was a knock on the door and he sighed again before getting up to see who it was. He looked around. He hadn't yet got everything put back together. That would take too much energy at the moment and everyone else was busy with work. Oh, well. Whoever it was would know what had happened. He'd get it done eventually.

When he got to the door, Tim checked through the peephole, just in case. Given that his photos were in the hands of law enforcement and the two guys who worked for him were in custody, the odds of Horvath coming after him were slim to none since that wouldn't help his situation but might get him caught, but it didn't hurt to be a little cautious.

It was not Horvath on the other side of the door. Tim was surprised that it was Tony. This continuing concern was just odd. It wasn't that Tim didn't think Tony could want to check on him, but Tony had been doing it more than anyone else... except Abby. And that just wasn't normal.

Still, he opened the door.

"Hey, Tony. It's pretty late. What are you doing here?" Tim asked, trying to sound merely inquiring instead of weirded out.

"Just... checking in on you," Tony said. "Do you mind?"

Tim shook his head and stepped aside so that Tony could come in. He could see the instant that Tony noticed that Tim hadn't cleaned things up yet.

"Yeah, it's still a mess," Tim said, trying to forestall any comment.

"Why?"

"Just haven't really had the energy for it. I cleaned up the bedroom. The rest of it can wait until I feel better."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You could ask for help, you know. We'd all be happy to do it."

Tim felt his brow furrow. It stretched his skin in weird ways after his surgery. He hoped that feeling would go away soon.

"Okay, Tony. What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you've been not... acting like you. The only one who's been here more than you is Abby and I doubt anyone will smother me more than she is. What's going on? Why are you so worried?"

"Who said I was worried?" Tony asked, looking uncomfortable. "I'm just checking on you."

"Yeah, and you've done that a lot. Heck, you've called me during the day just to check on me. You spent the night in my hospital room just to keep an eye on me. Why? You're never like this."

There was a long pause. Then, Tony gestured toward the typewriter.

"You're writing again."

Tim looked at the typewriter.

"What?"

"You're writing again. The Gemcity stuff. We saw it when we were checking out your apartment before."

Tim sighed and walked over to the writing desk. He sat down on the chair and stroked the keys.

"I was."

"What do you mean you were?"

"Just what I said."

"Why the past tense?"

"Because it nearly got me killed this time instead of someone else."

"You said that you were just taking pictures for fun."

"Yeah. I did."

"You lied?"

"Only by omission. It was for fun. It was just also for another reason."

"Which was?"

"Checking out locations for another book. I was trying to get inspired." Tim glanced at Tony to see what the admission would mean. To his surprise, there was no censure in Tony's expression, no irritation, either. "You mad about that?"

"Why would I be?"

"'If you even think about writing a third novel, I'll kill you,'" Tim quoted. "That's why."

Tony actually looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected Tim to remember that. Maybe he really hadn't.

"Come on. Do you really think that I meant that literally?"

"Doesn't matter whether you did or not," Tim said. "You still said it and even if it wasn't literal, it wasn't a joke."

"That's why you lied?"

"That's why I think you might be mad about it," Tim said. "And given the amount of grief you guys have heaped on me in the past, I think I was right to be cautious about it."

Tony didn't say anything in response although he raised an eyebrow.

"So why are you so worried about me?"

Now, Tony looked uncomfortable. He shrugged.

"Come on, Tony. Why?"

"It's no big deal."

"Then, why don't you want to talk about it?" Tim asked.

"You were finally in a good mood and then you were gone," Tony said. "It was..."

"You were worried. You can admit it," Tim said, feeling a little amused.

"Well, your apartment was trashed and you were gone. I was going to see if you wanted to get something for breakfast after the crappy day. And then, when we found you in that shed... I know that you don't really remember everything that you were doing, but it was weird. You were pointing a gun at me like you didn't even really know I was there. You were barely responding coherently. You needed me to get you to put down the gun. And you looked really bad."

"You were worried," Tim repeated.

Tony looked at him for a moment and Tim raised an eyebrow, which also stretched his skin a little weirdly. He'd be glad when he could go back to normal expressions without feeling it.

"Okay. Yeah, I was worried."

Tim laughed a little. "Why is that so hard to admit?"

Tony shrugged uncomfortably again. "I don't know. Just not the macho thing to do, I guess."

"Well... I do appreciate it, but you don't need to worry. My face is swollen and ugly. It still aches some and I'm still mostly only consuming liquids, but I'm in my right mind and I'm getting better. So you don't have to worry about me so much." Tim paused. Then, he smiled. "You were going to buy me breakfast?"

"Yep. I was."

"You can try it again if you want," Tim suggested.

"You want me to wait until you can chew?"

"Maybe. Smoothies would be cheaper than a real meal."

"Ha. I'm not quite that cheap."

"You aren't?" Tim asked.

"Okay, okay. I get the point. You're fine."

"Seriously, though, Tony. Thanks for being concerned."

"Sure. See ya later."

"Bye."

Tony left and Tim smiled a little and then gently rubbed his cheek. And sighed. He had managed to distract Tony from the whole writing thing for the moment. Tim wasn't sure he believed that Tony would care as little as he claimed. Since he hadn't promised anyone anything, he could just set all that writing aside and pretend he hadn't ever considered going back to it. The universe was loud and clear on it. Tim McGee shouldn't write anymore. It sucked but that was the way it would have to be.

For now, he should focus on getting something to eat. He had an appointment to check on the progress of the healing bone and then his doctor said that he could start trying to chew... but only soft things. He wanted Tim to take it very slowly in getting back to normal face movement and after having that conversation with Tony, he could understand why. His face ached a little from moving his mouth so much. He had tried not to show it, but he was glad the conversation was over. It was much easier to say nothing. In fact, in that respect, Abby was better because she did almost all the talking.

He had instructions on what to put into the smoothies so that he could get enough nutrients. His doctor had suggested blending regular foods, but the idea of drinking a steak just seemed incredibly wrong to Tim. He didn't want to have the flavor of meat only in a liquid. He had actually followed instructions to make some homemade beef broth that would have some of the nutrients he needed without blending a steak. However, for tonight, he was just going to go for a regular fruit smoothie with some protein powder added in. That would suffice, especially since he was mostly supposed to be resting.

"It'll be nice to have normal food again," he said aloud.

Then, there was a knock at his door.

"Now, what?"

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

Tony was halfway home when he realized that Tim had managed to redirect his attention very adroitly away from talking about his writing. That meant he hadn't wanted to discuss his writing with Tony. All that stuff about Tony being honest and then Tim had avoided being honest. Well, that wouldn't stand. He'd force Tim to talk about it.

But maybe tomorrow. It was going to be late enough.

No, he was going to do it tonight just to be irritating. Tony smiled to himself and turned the car around. Tim was going to glare at him after he was surprised to see Tony back again. Served him right.

It was silly to do this now, and Tony considered just going on home, but still, he did want to talk about it, and if Tim was genuinely thinking that people would be mad at him for writing again, then, that should probably be addressed... at least one time.

When he got back to Tim's place, he got out of the car and headed up to Tim's apartment, but he saw the door close right as he was getting there. Who else was there? He hadn't seen anyone's car out on the street. Tim's neighbor? Maybe, but Tony's gut was starting to churn. Something was wrong. He approached the door cautiously and then reconsidered. Maybe he should try the fire escape.

Quickly, he ran down the stairs and around to the back of the building. He tracked in on Tim's apartment and climbed up the fire escape, making as little noise as possible. The window was partly open and he didn't know how much could be heard. Besides, if he was way off on what was going on, he didn't want Tim to know about it.

He got up to the level of Tim's apartment and his heart sank. Tim was pressed up against his computer desk. The reason for that was obvious. There was another person in the apartment, almost hidden behind the bookshelves but still visible. And while Tony had never seen the person himself, he had seen his picture. In fact, Tim was the one who had taken that picture.

It was Sullivan Horvath.

Tony got out his phone and called Gibbs.

"Boss, Horvath is at Tim's place," he whispered as soon as Gibbs picked up. "I'm out on the fire escape but I don't have a good shot from here. I'm going to try to get a better view."

"On my way."

Tony hung up and crept forward so that he could get a better shot and he heard Tim speaking.

"...didn't even know you were in the picture if you'd just left it alone. I wasn't trying to take a photo of you."

"That's a lie. A fed who just happened to be in the exact place I used to get back into the country? Who told you I'd be there? Who was the rat?"

"No one," Tim said. "I told you. I was just there to take photos of the area. It had nothing to do with you."

"I know how to hurt you without killing you," Horvath said. "If you want a quick and painless death, you'll just tell me what I want to know."

"So if I say nothing then I'll stay alive longer? Sounds good to me," Tim said, sounding genuinely flippant. "If you're going to hit me in the face, could you hit the other side to balance things out? Your stooge already got me on the left side."

"You think I'm stupid?"

"The thought had occurred to me," Tim said.

Tony grimaced. What a time for Tim to find his tongue.

"Look, I write. That's why I was there. I write books for fun," Tim said and gestured toward the typewriter.

...and made eye contact with Tony who quickly ducked down out of sight before Horvath looked over.

There was a brief silence from the apartment.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Tim asked.

"You move, I kill you right now."

Uh-oh. That sounded like he might have caught a glimpse. Tony swallowed and drew his weapon. Then, he maneuvered around so that he could fire if he needed to.

There was another brief silence.

Then, a loud crash.

Tony leapt to his feet, afraid of what he'd see.