Leah leaned back against the pillow as the doctor made some notes on the chart. Well, Miss Hecht, it looks like you'll live. A wry smile twisted the woman's face as she looked at the disgruntled patient. I'd say all you need is a good two or three days of rest. She turned to hang the chart back on its hook but spun back at Leah's snort. Did you say something?No, Doctor. Nothing at all. Two or three days rest. Got it. She nodded and the other woman nodded slowly as well, then left the room, glaring slightly at the man in the wheelchair. Much as she wanted to, Leah did not stick her tongue out at the retreating back, instead she waved McGee back over to her bedside. Two or three days, my Sweet Aunt Fanny. I have work to do, she muttered, sarcastically as she struggled to sit up.
Um, Leah, really. Don't you think you should get some rest? McGee spoke up hesitantly as he awkwardly wheeled himself closer to her.
I suppose so, Tim. But I still don't know why Doug Ritchey was killed and I don't know if I have the luxury of just laying here resting. She gave up on trying to sit comfortably and laid back down, shifting onto her side slightly so she could see him better.
Can't we help with that? After all, you're part of the team. He looked at her as she remained silent. You are coming back to NCIS, aren't you? I mean, you and Gibbs, Arlington... He trailed off in confusion.
She stayed silent a moment longer. Finally, she gave a long sigh. You know, Tim, I don't know what I'm going to do. Make sure Perry goes down for killing Doug. After that, I really don't know. Take a break... I think... She fell silent, lost in thought.
McGee watched her, concerned. The earlier feistiness she'd showed with the doctor was gone and he was unused to the hesitancy she now showed. Finally he broke the silence. Take a break, how? From what? And do what?
She smiled. Remember I told you I'd done some undercover work? She waited for his nod before continuing. It's more than some. I wake up some days and I don't even know myself anymore. Her eyes drifted closed as she spoke. I'm so tired of the drugs and the guns and the money and the unbelievable greed. I'm tired of playing at things I don't feel, befriending people I loathe, smiling and joking my way through the most reprehensible activities. She sighed.
McGee remained silent, unable to find any words worthy of a response. Slowly she began speaking again, so quietly that he had to strain to hear.
It used to be fun... play the game and catch the bad guy. And I had such a flair for it; it was so flattering to be in demand. Then when your cover gets blown and it's just you, the perp, his gun and your wits, you get a crash course in how to bluff your way back into your own life. You become intimate with the feel of pure fear lurking beneath your skin. She opened her eyes and stared straight into his. And when you survive it, you feel invincible. You think you can take on anybody. So you do. Until one day you wake up and you realize, you don't remember you. You only remember how to play the game. Keep everyone at arm's length.
Somehow McGee found the courage to voice the one question that he couldn't leave unasked.
She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Jeth is a different matter. He knew me before all this began. She waved a hand aimlessly as she spoke. Our problem was he didn't know who I'd become. He remembered who I was, even when I didn't. She angled her head so she could see him again. The point is, I need some time to just be Leah. Not Lieutenant Hecht, Internal Affairs Investigator. She draped her arm tiredly over her eyes and sighed deeply.
McGee nodded and watched her for a while longer, thinking about the things she'd shared. When her breathing evened out, he buzzed for the nurse to help him back to his room. He was glad he'd been there for her to talk to, he thought it had probably helped them both. Now, though, it was time for both of them to be alone. He took one last look at her through the door as he was wheeled away and hoped her sleep would be peaceful.