Thinking of the people affected by Hurricane Ian, may you all stay safe and make safe choices.
With his Porsche in the consignment lot, waiting for a buyer, Tim parked his newly purchased ancient Range Rover, full of his own belongings in the NCIS main lot as he showed up for his shift the following morning. Ignoring a called-out jibe from Keating, as he signed himself in for his shift at security before taking the stairs into the sub-basement to begin his day.
Last night, he had spent the night parked in the alley beside Elaine's diner. But he had barely slept. Tim had his go bag in hand and was coming in a little extra early, leaving him enough time to shower and change before the start of his shift. Now he was no longer a field agent, he no longer had access to the employee gym for free. Using the bathroom in the gym was a luxury he couldn't afford right now, especially as he was officially homeless, his wages having taken a significant dent when Vance demoted him to the CCU.
Still, he had managed a quick rinse in the basement bathroom. It had no hot water, but right now he wasn't in a position to complain.
He managed to make it to his workstation by the 0700-start time and quickly stowed his bag under his desk, the now wet towel he had used was bundled up with his dirty clothes. He figured that he'd just have to find a laundromat on his next day off and do some laundry.
Upstairs, Keating was crowing to Langer and Lee about the almighty agents falling hard and how they were now, the new top dogs of the agency. Gibbs was at his desk, trying to tune out the noise when a snide comment from Keating caught his attention. "McGee's so pathetic now, you should have seen him this morning, in that beat up old Range Rover full of his belongings, his backpack in hand. I guess he really is nothing without his job as an agent."
That comment had made Gibbs angry, he stalked off muttering about going for coffee. As he left the building, he detoured through the main lot and sure enough, there was an old beat up, Range Rover full of someone's belongings. He looked and the windows and saw a familiar, old MIT gym bag, packed to the brim. He recognised it as Tim's bag from when they'd had to go on the road in cases past. 'Where is his Porsche?' he thought to himself as he continued to the diner for his coffee.
"Thanks Elaine." Gibbs nodded as she handed over two of the tall white cups full of his beloved brew. He was out the door before he realised that she had handed him two cups. He strode back in the diner and held one up higher at her.
"For Agent McGee, with my love." she told him. "That young man is having a tough time. He wouldn't tell me what was going on, but he was waiting here for coffee when I arrived at 5am, parked in the alley." Gibbs eyebrows rose at that new information before he kissed Elaine's cheek in thanks and scurried back to the Navy Yard.
Downstairs in cybercrimes, Gibbs arrived to find Tim being reamed out for something in the supervisor's office, with the door closed. Most of the staff had vanished and Gibbs left the hot paper mug on Tim's desk with a note telling him it was from Elaine.
Tim's day had gone from bad to worse, his boss had called him into the office to lecture him on how things worked in CCU and how he wouldn't tolerate McGee running to the Director about the shifts he was allocated or the hours he was required to work. McCormack had reamed him out, before informing him he would be required to work a double shift now, because the Director had intervened on his behalf.
By the time lunch had rolled around, Tim was relieved to get out of there, anxious to get some daylight, but first, he had to find Ducky and apologise for his behaviour the other night.
"Where do you think you're going, McGee?" McCormack shouted from the entrance to the CCU, the majority of the staff had already left for lunch and McCormack had been preparing to go for lunch too.
"Lunch." Tim answered, as if the answer was obvious. He was starting to feel lightheaded. He hadn't eaten anything since a breakfast bar at 0400 when he had given up on sleep.
"No, you're the newbie. You have to stay here and man the office. You may have a five-minute break, when we return."
Tim slumped himself back into his chair and resumed working, missing the smug look on McCormack's face.
Tim felt bone tired, he hadn't had a coffee since he was at Elaine's this morning. He had found a note that Gibbs had written, leaving him something but there was nothing there. He sneezed and then again, rummaging around in his bag for Tylenol. Not finding any, he just added asking Ducky for some, when he apologised, to his list of things to do today.
When everyone else had returned, Tim had prepared to leave only for McCormack to call an emergency staff meeting for all staff, including Tim, meaning no break for Tim. When Tim had ventured off for an afternoon coffee break, he hadn't even made it to the elevator before his cell rang, calling him back because Balboa needed his assistance, cutting through some red tape, on their latest case.
Gibbs and his current team had caught a case and had spent the day in the field, finally getting back to the yard at 2200 hours. When he was cutting across the main lot from the motor pool, he noticed his son's car was still in the lot. He added making sure to catch Tim and find out what was going on down there.
"Hey Duck." Gibbs greeted his friend as he ventured down into the autopsy suite, looking for the cause of death on their latest victim.
"Jethro, before we get to the Petty Officer, here. I must speak with you." Ducky started talking, forgoing his usual greeting for his dear friend. "I managed to catch young Timothy when I arrived back to the yard, and I am quite concerned. The poor lad is battling a rather nasty cold."
"It's a cold, Duck." Jethro replied and tried to refocus his friend. "The Petty Officer?"
"I am not finished Jethro." Ducky admonished him. "I am concerned about him. I saw him leave for lunch today, only to be called back into CCU by his supervisor, this afternoon without getting to eat."
"Not much I can do Duck, I'm not Tim's boss anymore." Gibbs told him. "If you have concerns, you need to take them up with Vance."
A melodic ringing filled the air as the ringing of the good doctor's cell phone disrupted Gibbs' questions for Ducky about the Petty Officer's death. "Doctor Mallard." Ducky answered, his tone professional, telling Gibbs that he didn't know the caller.
"Oh, my goodness!" Ducky exclaimed, putting his hand over his mouth in shock. That had stopped Gibbs cold. He had been fiddling with the report that Ducky had just handed him before he answered his cell.
"I understand, Doctor. I shall come directly, and I will contact the young man's family." Ducky told the caller as he disconnected the call, he had just received.
"Jethro, I'm afraid I have some terrible news." Ducky told him, as he stepped back towards the supervisory agent. "It seems that Timothy was in a motor vehicle accident this evening. As his medical proxy, I have been called to the hospital...wo-"
"I'll drive, Duck. Which hospital?" Gibbs said, worriedly. He was kicking himself that he hadn't had a chance to cat h his son before he had taken the call out this afternoon.
"He's at Bethesda." Ducky replied. He and Gibbs exchanged worried glances with one another.
"Do we know what happened?" Gibbs asked.
"I believe the Maryland State Troopers are waiting for us."
Gibbs floored the pedal of an agency sedan, tearing out of the yard. Ducky, feeling it was his duty to inform the Director, making the call he really hoped he'd never have to make.
"What is it, Doctor Mallard?" Vance asked, he had looked at his work cell when it rang while watching a movie with his wife, surprised to see the good doctor was calling him.
"I'm afraid I have some terrible news to share. Timothy McGee is in a critical condition at Bethesda Hospital." Ducky informed him, trying to keep a professional tone. He didn't want his worry to come through the phone line. "I am on route to the hospital as we speak."
"Is there... Does he have any family to be notified? A next of kin, perhaps?" he asked, wiping his hand over his face, distraught by what he had been told. He looked for his jacket, wallet and house keys to prepare to head out to the hospital.
"He has Jethro listed as his next of kin." Ducky explained to the Director. Ducky could hear the jangle of the keys in the background of the call. "He is with me, and Timothy has a grandmother and sister listed as emergency contacts, I would rather have more Information before I make the call, if that's OK?"
"Agreed, Doctor. I shall meet you at Bethesda. I'm on my way." Vance told Ducky as he disconnected the call.
Pulling up at Bethesda, Gibbs swung widely, cutting off another car as he pulled into a parking spot, haphazardly. Ducky and Gibbs jogged I to the hospital and to the information desk. The admissions officer manning the desk directed them around the corner and into the emergency department.
Maryland State Trooper Alex Smith recognised Gibbs as NCIS and approached the two of them immediately. Smith had worked a few joint cases with Gibbs over the years. "Agent Gibbs. Remember me?" at Gibbs' nod and the hand offered for a handshake, the state trooper took it, wasting no time with pleasantries. "It seems Agent McGee tried breaking at the change of the traffic lights to get onto the freeway and had been unable to do so. He swerved to avoid hitting two pedestrians standing on the side of the freeway, smashing into the concrete barrier and losing control of his SUV. It rolled several times before it rolled down the embankment at the wire cabled barrier. A witness mentioned that he was being tailgated by a blue Chevy Suburban before it couldn't break, I have a partial plate. I've organised for the car to be towed to NCIS for a forensic inspection and analysis."
"And Tim?" Gibbs asked, he was desperate to know how his son was. Ducky had left to see if he could use his privileges to get some answers.
"They have him listed as critical. Sorry Gibbs, McGee is a good kid." Alex told him.
Ducky had been ushered behind the double doors, into the hub bub of the cubicles, assumingly to Tim's bedside. Vance's arrival was tense, Gibbs replayed what little information he had to the Director. Before going back to sitting and waiting for Ducky in silence.
"Ducky!" Gibbs shouted as soon as he saw him come back out again.
"Jethro, Timothy is still in critical condition unfortunately. But he has been taken into surgery, that's good he has made it this far." Ducky said gently.
"What's the extent of his injuries, doctor?" Vance asked him, directly.
"He has massive internal bleeding and a ruptured spleen. In addition, he has an internal head injury causing intercranial pressure building up, a fractured wrist and collarbone, snapped achilles tendon, torn calf muscle and a shattered kneecap - all on the left side of his body. On his right side, he has a broken wrist, dislocated shoulder and elbow. Please understand the next seventy-two hours are critical, it's a miracle he has made it this far. By all accounts, from his internal bleeding and head injury alone, he shouldn't have made it this far."
"Jesus Christ!" Vance exclaimed, not censuring himself. It took a lot for the new Director if NCIS to get rattled and he was rattled. He looked over at his long-time colleague and noticed that Gibbs had gone white. "Gibbs?"
"Can I see him?" Gibbs whispered to Ducky. Gibbs felt numb, he didn't know what to do. He hadn't been stateside when Kelly and Shannon had been in the accident that had taken them from him. He just received the telegram a few days later, when he had returned from his mission. Even then, the NIS agent, Mike Franks, had never given him any details of the injuries that had killed them, or even shown him photos of their bodies or the accident scene. No matter how much he had wanted to know. It felt like deja vu, history repeating itself. A cruel, karmic twist. But Tim was hanging on, still. That gave him hope.
"No one's going to keep you from him, Jethro." the two men exchanged a look, and the Director knew something big was up between Gibbs and Ducky. "As soon as your boy is settled in a room, I promise we will let you see him."
"Ten seconds, Gentlemen." Vance warned them. "I don't like secrets and I don't appreciate being kept out of the loop, especially at a time like this. If there is something I should know about Agent McGee and his family, I suggest you two fill me in, now."
"Timothy's my son." Gibbs admitted softly. "We... We found out two weeks ago, through a bizarre series of events."
"Son? Your son?" he asked, he was shocked. "That's why you knew where he was when he was asleep at his desk." Vance said, in realisation.
"No." Gibbs denied. "It was... It was something I had seen his mother do. His birth mother."
"What about his adoptive family?" Vance questioned. "If my adoptive child was critical, I'd want to know. Even his birth mom, Gibbs I know having an ex around can be uncomfortable but..."
"His adoptive mother passed when he was a child, his adoptive father is at sea, and they're estranged. His adoptive grandmother is in Peru, I last heard. But really, Penny could be anywhere by now and Sarah, his adoptive sister is in London. She has no idea he's adopted, as much as he wants to tell her, he is adamant that she must not know that he's adopted. He didn't say why, but he implied it was safer that way." Gibbs answered, bracing himself before dropping the final bombshell. "His birth mom, she died recently. She didn't know he was the son she gave up for adoption when she died. When she was alive, she worked for NCIS too."
"Shepard was his birth mother?" Vance asked, his voice incredulous. "You and Shepard? I didn't know you two were an item."
Gibbs proceeded to tell the Director the whole story of how it had come to pass that they had found out about his paternity to Tim and how the two men were sorting it out.
Vance had gone in search for coffee, somewhere around 0300, leaving the older two men alone with their thoughts and returning shortly after, laden with hot drinks to sustain the three of them. Gibbs was so worried; he could barely stomach the hot coffee, only drinking it to give his idle hands something to do. To make matters worse, they hadn't heard anything since Ducky had given them that first update and he had spilled his guts to Vance about how Tim had been conceived, the estate, the lawyer, the letters, EVERYTHING!
"Mr Gibbs? Doctor Mallard?" A voice broke through their thoughts as they waited for news on Tim. Looking up, all three men had looked tired, each wore a look of worry and concern. "I'm Doctor Cooper, I was one of the surgeons who operated on Agent McGee. He is in recovery, now. He has made it through, just. It's touch and go for a while, still. The next seventy-two hours are critical. We have stabilised the internal bleeding, removed his ruptured spleen and relieved the pressure from the bleeding on the brain. We have placed him in a medically induced coma to help control the pain and any more brain swelling. We repeated the scans that were taken upon his admission, and we are hopeful the brain swelling will be minimal now, we've relieved the pressure. Any questions?"
Gibbs felt numb still, he didn't know what to ask and for once, he felt off kilter. "May we see him?" Ducky had asked, taking control of the situation for his friend. He had never seen Gibbs quite like this and that included when he had amnesia and had lost his memory.
"One at a time." Dr Cooper answered. "A nurse will come and take you to him, soon. But I must warn you, he doesn't look much like himself. He has multiple contusions, facial swelling and joint swelling. He is pale and we have cleaned and dressed the multiple lacerations from his impact with the windscreen. If there is any other family you can call gentlemen, I suggest you call them down, too. He has already put up such a fight, you need to think about how much more of a fight, does he have left in him?" The three men looked at one another and no one said a word. The doctor excused himself, with Ducky following him into the hall to ask some more medical questions.
Tim had made it through the surgery. His heart was struggling, and they needed to control his blood pressure better. He was having a blood transfusion to replace the blood lost. "He's made it, Gibbs." Leon Vance told him, trying to remain positive. He, himself was struggling to comprehend how three days ago, Tim had been standing in the Director's office and had been perfectly healthy to now, literally fighting for his life.
A young, tired looking nurse came and took them into the Intensive Care Unit, settling the men in the small sitting room, outside Tim's room. She went through the correct hand hygiene procedure, explaining the importance that the germs be kept to a minimum, not wanting to risk Tim's recovery with an infection. "Jethro?" Ducky startled him. Gibbs had been operating on autopilot for the last several hours now, he hadn't been in this position before and it had felt all too much like deja vu to him. "Why don't you go in and see Timothy first? The Director and I are happy to wait a little bit longer. Perhaps you could remind him how important he is to you, not only as an agent, but as your son."
Gibbs nodded at Ducky, cleaning his hands the way the nurse had showed them. He tried to pull himself together as he pushed open the door handle into the room where Tim was. Jethro Gibbs wasn't a very spiritual man, but in that moment, he looked up and saw Jenny Shepard and his mom Anne, by his son's bedside. He didn't know if he had the inner strength to do this. But he did know one thing, he didn't have the strength to bury another child. "Oh Tim?" his voice slipped out softly as he took in his son's appearance. Tim was laying in the bed, a sheet folded modestly at his waist, his naked chest bare for the world to see. Multiple lacerations and contusions adorned his chest in a range of hues from yellow and grey to purple and blue, small cuts, cleaned and treated, some larger cuts, closed with surgical tape and stitches. A large combine pad, covering the surgical wound where they had cut him open to remove the ruptured spleen had adorned his torso.
His head was pale, sporting a large pad and bandage. Most likely where they had drilled into his skull to relieve the build-up of cranial pressure, caused by the head injury. Gibbs' heart was broken. They had re-positioned his shoulder in its socket, as well as his elbow. "Keep fighting son, you hear me?" Gibbs whispered as he took a seat beside Tim's bed. "You don't have my permission to give up. Keep pushing, Tim." He urged.
Gibbs gingerly and carefully picked up Tim's hand in his and held it close to him. "I can't bury you, son, I can't. I know you're tired but keep fighting." he looked down at his son's hand in his and studied their hands carefully. Tim definitely had his mother's long and slender fingers, but he also had his father's sturdy wrist. Gibbs noticed that although they had mentioned fractures in both wrists, both were only strapped in a conform bandage, not in a cast or brace. He wondered to himself if that meant he would need additional surgeries and made a mental note to ask Ducky when he left his son's bedside.
Ducky slipped into the room with the Doctors as they made their morning rounds. Gibbs had dozed off in the chair, feeling anxious every time he had stepped away from Tim, as if it would be the last time, he would see him. The doctors looked over his vital signs, not seeing much change and reiterated to the men that they should consider calling in his extended family to say goodbye.
Vance had left earlier in the morning, after seeing Tim for himself, up close, albeit quickly as his long-time colleague was anxious to get back to Tim, not liking leaving the young man. As the father of a son, his heart ached for his friend. When he had left Tim's hospital room in the ICU, he had pat Jethro on the arm and commented. "It's amazing how quickly you can fall in love with your children. Doesn't matter if you've known them for a minute or for a lifetime. The feeling of love never leaves you." Leon Vance knew he had to go to the office. There were things that needed to be done, there. Tim's CCU supervisor would need to be notified, he needed to call in a replacement for Gibbs, he knew the older agent wouldn't leave his son's side. Abby needed to be briefed and he needed to get her started on investigating the car. He had decided to recall Tony from his position as Agent Afloat and fully brief him, taking over as temporary team leader of MCRT. No doubt Ziva would want to be notified too. She was in Israel and would want to be given the option to return to her friend and teammate's bedside, stateside. He would arrange for a cover for Dr Mallard, because he was the young agent's medical proxy and would want to be beside his friend at his time in need. But first, he needed to go home and hug his children tightly, before they left for school.