Chapter 16

One week later...

Tim walked back to his hotel room feeling tired and discouraged. He'd been spending every day at the truck stop ever since Dr. Mattson had told him where it was. He'd talked to every single trucker coming through. In fact, the people there were starting to recognize him when he showed up. They even told some of the truckers what Tim was doing before Tim himself could. Because he could demonstrate some progress, Vance hadn't carried through on his threat to fire Tim, but at the same time, Tim still worried about whether or not he could produce something concrete.

He kept coming back to the question of why Tony hadn't asked anyone for help, why he'd apparently left the area. What would cause him to do that when he knew that there were people ready and able to come if he called. Where had he gone and why? Gibbs was reluctant to put out a BOLO for him just in case there really was a good reason why Tony was apparently in hiding. He hadn't ruled out the possibility that Tony had simply been killed later and the same situation applied as before, but if there was something going on that they didn't understand, then, it behooved them to be cautious about it.

So he was keeping up his low-tech methods, no matter how tiring and hopeless it was.

As he reached the door to his hotel room, he sensed there was someone coming up behind him. He tensed and tried to get his key out without looking like he was actually in a hurry to get inside.

"Timothy?"

Tim let out a whoosh of relief and turned. Sure enough, there was Ducky walking down the hallway toward him.

"Ducky," he said, unable to hide how he felt.

"I'm sorry if I startled you, lad."

"It's all right," Tim said. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you," Ducky said, seriously.

"Why? I've been checking in with Gibbs every day, just like he told me to. Why would you think you needed to come all the way down here?"

"May I come into your room?"

"Of course."

Tim opened the door and held it open for Ducky.

"Now, why did you come down here, Ducky?" Tim asked. "I don't mind, really, but I don't understand."

"Because you've been checking in with Jethro and he doesn't like what he hears."

"What?" Tim asked.

Ducky sat down but Tim stayed standing, even though he wanted to sit.

"You are pushing yourself too hard, Timothy. He could hear it in your voice every time you called and I can see it just looking at you now."

"All I'm doing is going to the truck stop and asking questions."

"For how long?"

Tim shrugged. "Most of the day, but it's not like I'm overexerting myself."

"You are overexerting yourself, Timothy. No, you may not be running around, but you are giving yourself no real rest. You are anxious and worried and you are pushing yourself too hard."

"You haven't seen what I'm doing," Tim said. "I'm just..." Then, his usual tiredness at the end of the day chose that moment to reveal itself in the form of a headache. He couldn't hold back the wince and he closed his eyes.

"You're doing too much, lad, and your body is telling you so. Sit down."

"I'm fine, Ducky," Tim said, forcing his eyes open.

He didn't sit, but he couldn't keep his eyes open as the headache didn't fade. His eyes closed again.

Suddenly, he felt Ducky's hand on his arm. It wasn't supporting. It was controlling, forcing him to walk over to the bed and then, hands were on his shoulders, pushing him down.

"You would be more fine if you would simply acknowledge when you need help, Timothy," he said.

"I don't need any help right now. It's the end of the day and I'm tired. Lots of people have that."

"No, most people do not feel tired enough that they have headaches and dizziness at the end of the day. Those who are recovering from a serious head injury do, and if they're smart, they back off on their activities and allow themselves the needed time to recover."

"I'm not recovering. I'm recovered. It's been nearly seven months," Tim said. "I'm fine!"

"On the contrary, a moderate TBI, such as you had, can take a year or more for full recovery. Certainly, most of the healing takes place in the first six months, but if full recovery is truly possible, it takes longer than that, no matter how fortunate you've been thus far. And denying it doesn't change the facts."

Tim sat up and looked at Ducky who was now towering over him. It was only possible when Tim was sitting. And his expression was one of frustration. He put his hands on Tim's shoulders again and shook him gently.

"Timothy, you need to let yourself heal. Take a day to rest and then resume your search."

Tim shook his head. "No. I'm staying there all day so that I don't miss any truck driver who comes through. What if there's one that saw Tony and I miss him because I'm not there to ask? Then, my one chance to get it right is gone!"

"Timothy, get what right?"

Tim dropped his eyes and stared at the floor.

"Tony's alive, Ducky. He's been alive for the last seven months. He got away from whatever happened. Someone tried to kill him. And because of whatever I did, I wasn't there to be his backup. We only had each other, and I must have dropped the ball."

"No, lad. There's no reason to assume that."

"Except that I fell. I probably tripped or something. I probably panicked or..."

"Or you were under attack from unknown persons and, in a bad situation, you were injured."

Ducky let go of Tim's shoulders and sat down beside him on the bed. He put an arm around him.

"Timothy, I know you feel guilt about the way the operation ended, but there is no reason to."

"Except that I'm fine and Tony's not. They're accusing him of being dirty and because I can't remember what happened, I can't defend him. He's lost and in danger and I can't stop it because of my stupid brain."

"Even so, I wouldn't say that you are fine, Timothy. You don't need to punish yourself for being here while we don't know where Anthony is. You don't need to feel that you have failed for suffering from a very common symptom of brain injury."

Tim felt his throat tightening ominously. He couldn't even answer. And then, Ducky squeezed his shoulders once and spoke in a gentle tone.

"And while I understand your need to find Anthony, wherever he is, and I know he would appreciate being sought for, he wouldn't want you to harm yourself in the process. I am sure of it. What you are doing is more than enough. It is too much. You are allowed to rest on occasion."

He hadn't let himself cry since the day he'd broken down in therapy, but he was getting closer to it than he wanted.

"Timothy, you are not to blame for this situation. Your safety and well-being are no less important than Anthony's."

Tim couldn't speak. If he did, he knew he'd cry.

"Care for yourself. Just a little. Just one day. Let yourself rest and recharge so that you can better continue the search."

Tim swallowed hard.

"I have to find him, Ducky. I have to... do something right."

"You already have. You've made it farther than anyone else. You're good enough, Timothy. You really are."

Finally, Tim began to cry, even though he really didn't want to. Ducky was being too comforting and too kind for him to resist it.

"It's all right, lad."

Tim kept crying for far too long, but eventually, he was able to master his feeling again and stuff the tears back. He took a couple of shaky breaths.

"Do you feel any better?"

"Not really," Tim whispered.

"Will you take a break tomorrow? Just one day that you're not pushing yourself. Just one."

Tim wanted to say no. He wanted to push away Ducky's kind concern and just focus on what he knew he needed to do. ...but at the same time, he did want a break. He just didn't feel like he could take one.

"One day only, Timothy. Just to rest."

"What if I say no?" Tim asked, forcing a smile. He had the feeling that this wasn't really a choice being given to him.

"Then, I believe that Jethro is prepared to come down here and force you to."

Tim laughed a little.

"I thought so."

Ducky squeezed his shoulders once more and let him go.

"Your dedication is admirable, Timothy, but you must take it easy sometimes."

"There's plenty of time for that."

"But you're not taking it."

Tim took a breath and let it out slowly.

"One day of rest, Timothy." Ducky's voice was quietly cajoling.

One more breath and then, reluctantly, Tim nodded.

"Okay. One day."

"Good."

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

Tim did take one day of rest, but he was antsy throughout the day, wondering if the one person who had seen Tony would have gone through on the day he wasn't there. Ducky stayed with him as if to make sure he really did rest, but then, he had to wish Tim good luck and get back to DC.

Tim went back to the truck stop and for another week, he struck out every day. As he neared the end of his second week, Tim almost ran out of hope that he'd find anything, but he kept trying. Today, he started out feeling tired. He wasn't sleeping well out of worry at the lack of progress...and the lack of understanding of what was going on.

Still, he took a breath and prepared for a long day. One thing this had done was burn away his worries about what people were thinking of him. He didn't care if the people he asked questions thought he was nuts. He didn't care if everyone at NCIS thought he was wrong. He was focused on what he needed to do and he would do what it took to accomplish it. That was all that mattered.

Two truckers came in together. Tim got to his feet and walked over to them.

"Hey, do you have a minute?"

"Not much more than that," said one of the drivers. "I'm a little behind schedule."

"I'll be quick then," Tim said. He pulled out the picture of Tony. "Have you seen this man sometime in the last seven months? He might have been trying to get a ride."

The one in a hurry looked and then shook his head.

"Nope. Never seen him. Gotta go."

"Thanks."

The other man was quiet, looking at the photo.

"Have you seen him?" Tim asked.

"What's his name?"

"Tony DiNozzo."

"No one by that name, but he does look kinda like a guy I picked up in Oklahoma about seven months ago. He was a singer, he said. He was a lot more scruffy than this picture, but it could be the same guy."

Could Tony have been using his undercover persona? Why?

"What's the name he gave you?"

"Oh, what was it... Joel."

Joel Williams. Tony's silly name he decided to use as an aspiring singer. The reverse of Billy Joel. Why would he be doing this and what would he be doing in Oklahoma?

"Could you tell me where you dropped him off?"

"Texas. He was heading west, he said, and I wasn't going any further west than Texas. Dropped him outside of Amarillo on I-40. He probably had to walk a bit, but he didn't want to keep going south so I let him off."

Texas. How far had Tony gone? Why? Tim had no idea, but he now knew where he was headed next.

Amarillo, Texas.

"Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Who is he to you?"

"My friend. He's been missing and I need to find where he went."

"Well, good luck to you."

"Thanks."

Tim left the truck stop and headed back to his hotel, ready to check out and leave, but he had to call Gibbs first.

Once he got back to his room, he sat down and prepared to do battle if need be. He could be out of Norfolk before Gibbs got to him anyway. No matter what, he was headed to Amarillo.

He got out his phone and dialed.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, I'm headed to Texas."

"Why?"

"Because Tony apparently got a ride from a truck driver who dropped him off there. Said he was headed west."

There was a long silence and Tim figured that Gibbs was going to try to convince him that he should wait for something more, more evidence that this was right or something. However, he wasn't willing to do that and so he was prepared to resist any such suggestion.

"Are you planning on driving?"

"Yeah. I don't want to have to wait to get a flight over and having a car available will be a lot easier. It'll take some time, but I'll get there."

"How far will you go?"

"As far as I have to."

"Thought you'd say that."

Tim smiled a little grimly. "Boss, what Tony was doing doesn't make sense. He didn't follow any of the stuff we set up. He didn't try to reference the number he had. He didn't call NCIS. He didn't contact police. He apparently tried to avoid the police. He didn't even stay on the East Coast. This guy picked him up in Oklahoma! If he was hitchhiking it would take forever to get that far. Whatever Tony was doing doesn't make sense. Something has to be going on, and it's more important than ever that I find out why."

"You want to do a BOLO, then?"

"No. The trucker I talked to said he was still using his undercover persona. There must be a reason for that and I don't want to spook him or get him in trouble by having people watching for him."

"Except you."

"Except me. I'm his backup, Boss. I'm the one who should be looking out for him."

"It's not your fault."

Tim wasn't interested in getting into that again.

"I'm going to Texas. Is Vance going to fire me?"

"Not if you have something. You do. You want someone with you?"

"No. It's working well this way. People aren't as suspicious when it's just one guy asking questions instead of two cops."

Another pause, but then, Gibbs sighed a little.

"All right. You still check in every day or I'm going out there after you. And be careful."

"Yes, Boss."

Then, the conversation was over. Tim didn't waste any time. He packed up his stuff, checked out of the hotel and started on his way to Amarillo.