Chapter 13
Tim gave his statement and then had a few weeks where he was recovering from his injury and the subsequent surgery. That time was spent mostly resting. For the first week, he felt like doing pretty much nothing and so that was what he did. After that, he tentatively began to start a few activities, mostly working on cleaning up his apartment, but he wasn't doing that alone. NCIS people were in and out as they could to help him and after two weeks, his apartment was basically back to normal, something he definitely appreciated.
As far as his attackers went, given that most of their activity had been in Baltimore and that the only Navy link was Tim himself, Gibbs was willing to turn Horvath over to BPD and the charges of assault and attempted murder on Tim were added to the list. Copies of Tim's photos were given as evidence and Tim himself was able to positively identify Knight, Donaldson and Horvath as the people who had attacked him. He had already expressed willingness to testify should that be needed. He would be glad to put it all behind him, but Tim knew he had to do his part. That would be off in the future as this would be a fairly important trial, but it would likely happen at some point.
Finally, a month after his misadventure, Tim was able to go back to work. His doctor had forbidden him to do anything but desk duty, but he was at least back at his desk and that was a good thing. His face was still a little sore and his cheekbone definitely wasn't up to par, but he could eat some solids as long as he was careful.
About halfway through his first day back, Tim looked at the folder that was still on his desktop.
The folder of the location shots.
He took a breath and opened it up. Then, he swallowed and forced himself to skim through the photos. He knew he was getting closer and closer to the fateful picture he'd taken of Horvath sneaking back into the States for the first time in years. He clicked the arrow and there it was.
And even though he now knew who they were, he genuinely couldn't tell who they were. If they hadn't seen him, this wouldn't have happened. If he had stopped taking pictures a minute earlier, this wouldn't have happened. If only...
"What are you looking at, McGee?" Tony asked, suddenly.
Tim jumped.
"Where did you come from?" he asked.
Tony smiled. "Where I usually come from. Whatcha doing?"
"Just... looking."
"At what?"
"Pictures."
Tony raised an eyebrow and walked around to look at Tim's monitor. Tim thought about closing the window but decided not to bother. He left it up and didn't look to see Tony's reaction to it.
"I didn't know you still had those."
"No one ever deleted them from my computer. Most of them don't matter," Tim said.
"So... why are you looking at them?"
"Wishing I'd never taken them."
"I'm sorry that you had to deal with all that."
"Me, too."
Tim took a breath and then shook his head and closed the window.
"Are you going to write?"
"I don't know. I haven't tried yet."
"Are you going to try?"
"I don't know."
"Tim, it is so good to see you back in your space," Ziva said, smiling.
Tim looked away from his monitor and smiled at Ziva.
"Thanks. I'm almost okay."
"You will get there. I know it. Would you like to get a drink with us after work tonight?"
"Not tonight," Tim said. "End of the week. I promise."
"Very well. I will hold you to it, and I will tell Abby so that she will make you."
Tim laughed a little.
"That'll work."
"Always."
Then, Gibbs came striding through as he always did. He paused for just a moment and looked at Tim.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm okay, Boss. I can finish the day. I promise."
"Okay. MPD will be sending some phone records over."
"I'll watch for them," Tim said.
Gibbs just nodded and moved on. Tim gave Tony a glance and then turned back to his monitor and got back to work. Through the rest of the day, he tried to focus just on the work he had to do. Even if he was confined to his desk, there was plenty to do. However, by the end of the day, he was genuinely tired and ready to be done.
As he got up from his desk, he was glad he hadn't driven today. He was allowed to now but he had been pretty sure he would be especially tired with his first day back to work. He picked up his bag and headed for the elevator, and was surprised when Tony popped up yet again.
"Hey, McGee, how was your first day back?"
"Fine. Tony, how long is this attentive thing going to go on?" Tim asked.
Tony just grinned. "You'll never know, Probie."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
"Are you going to write tonight?"
"I don't know. I was thinking of just going to bed."
"You should write."
"Why?"
"Because you want to and you know it. Even if you're tired. You want to write. So you should do it. I'll even give you permission to write something about Tommy and Lisa."
Tony gently propelled him onto the elevator and Tim looked at him.
"I don't trust that at all. How long will that magnanimity last?"
"At least as long as it takes for me to figure out what magna... whatever means," Tony said, waving his hand. "In fact, I'll give you a ride home so that you don't have to pay for a taxi just so that I can prove my magna whatever."
Tim smiled. He suspected that Tony already knew what magnanimity meant and was just playing dumb, but it would be nice not to have to take a taxi regardless.
"Okay. I'll let you."
"Excellent."
Tony drove him home and Tim got out of the car... and then was surprised when Tony got out of the car, too.
"Tony, you don't need to follow me. I'm not that tired," Tim said.
"I know."
Tony followed him up the stairs.
"Tony, I'm not in any danger, either."
"I know."
Tim got to his door, still with Tony following him.
"Tony, why are you following me?"
"Just open your door, Probie."
Tim shrugged and did as he was told and then walked inside.
Tony followed him.
"Tim, you should write. At least get started."
Tim put down his bag and turned around.
"Why are you pushing this?" Tim asked. "You admitted it before. You were one of the people most against my book before. You're the one who told me that you'd kill me if I started writing again. I know you said I should enjoy myself and everything, but why are you pushing this so hard?"
Tony walked over to him and then shook him a little bit.
"Because I can see that you're worried about doing it, even though I can see that you want to. So I'm going to be the annoying voice that won't leave you alone and I'm going to tell you to write. If you start doing it and nothing happens, you'll see that it's not your fault that all this went on. It's not because of your writing. It was just a picture."
"But a picture is worth a thousand words," Tim said.
"So... write the thousand words and ignore the picture. It's not like you could sell the photo anyway."
"Huh?" Tim asked. That had been a leap he hadn't followed.
Tony grinned and shook him once more.
"Just write, Probie. And I'm going to check on you in the morning to make sure you did. So get to it."
Then, Tony let him go and left. Tim was a little nonplussed. He still wasn't sure why Tony was so adamant but when he said he was going to check and be annoying, he meant it.
"I guess I'm writing tonight," he said aloud.
But first, he got something to eat and then he walked over to his writing desk. He smiled a little as he looked at the typewriter. He turned to his record player and picked out a Thelonius Monk record and then started it going. The opening notes of "Brilliant Corners" began and Tim felt himself relax. He sat down at the typewriter and thought about the photos he'd taken. He tensed a little bit.
Then, he took a breath and reached out to run his fingers lightly over the keys for a few seconds.
Then, he hesitantly started to type. It was the first time he'd used his typewriter since his injury. At first, he wasn't really very eager, but then, after a few minutes of pecking at the keys, he started to type more.
And he filled up a page.
He wasn't really plotting or anything. This was free writing, letting the unconventional playing of Thelonius Monk carry him through his typing. He got into a rhythm with the music and ended up typing for the entire record, pausing only to flip it over.
When the music stopped, so did he. He sat back on his chair, looking at the what he'd typed.
Then, he pulled out his phone. This wouldn't take a thousand words. It would only take one.
Thanks.
Then, he sent it to Tony.
There was a response a few seconds later.
Magnanimity = noble generosity :D
Tim laughed.
That one didn't need any words to reply.
:P
Then, he put his phone down and went to bed.
FINIS!