Chapter 36

Tim woke up with a start. He looked at the clock and was surprised that it was only about four a.m. With how tired he'd been for so long, he was surprised to awaken early. He'd only slept for about three hours.

But now that he was awake, he lay there, thinking about Tony's performance. There was no question that he had enjoyed himself... and there was no question that he was good at it. Every song he had played had been done well. If Tony wasn't quite Billy Joel, he was definitely still good.

Was it wrong for him to give all that up?

Tim couldn't deny that Tony had been clear that this was his last performance, that he was going back, that he needed to go back.

But should he? Did he really want to?

Tim sat up and was no longer sleepy in the slightest. He was now worried that he'd done the wrong thing, that by finding Tony he was ruining something. Was it stupid? Probably. But he still couldn't set it aside. His mind had now settled on the possibility that he had ruined something. He tried to stay quiet. He was sharing Ducky's hotel room, and Tony was sharing with Gibbs. Tony and Gibbs were right next door. Tim didn't want to disturb anyone with his stupidity.

Worrying about something he knew he probably didn't need to worry about, Tim drew his knees to his chest and rested his head on his knees. Could nothing in his life be without complications anymore? It felt like every time he thought things were going to settle down, something exploded in his face. Yesterday, things had felt like they were settling.

Now, they had exploded once again.

And it wasn't even that he didn't realize it was probably just in his own mind. Tim was aware of it. It just didn't matter. He was worried whether he should be or not. He closed his eyes and tried to think calming thoughts.

He failed.

Tim didn't know how long he sat there, but he just couldn't settle down.

Then, a hand on his arm startled him and he sat up with a muffled exclamation.

"Timothy, what's wrong?"

Tim let out a whoosh of air and then dropped his head back to his knees.

"Nothing, Ducky. I'm just stupid is all. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"I'm not sure what awakened me, actually. I don't sleep nearly as deeply as I used to. What has led you to decide that you're stupid? I've seen nothing to indicate that."

"That's because you can't see into my brain, Ducky. That's where the stupidity is."

"Timothy, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Timothy, remember that sharing how you feel is important. You needn't feel that you're a burden."

Tim sat up. "Ducky, Tony sounded really good, didn't he."

"Yes. I was amazed at his ability to perform. Even without a high degree of skill at the piano, he can sing and he can convince his audience to follow along with what he wants them to hear. I was most impressed."

"He was good, and people enjoyed what he was singing. He enjoyed playing. Was I wrong to insist that he should come back with us? Does he belong here?"

Tim was surprised to see a tolerant, if somewhat sad smile on Ducky's face.

"Oh, Timothy. What will it take for you to accept that not everything you do is wrong or not enough? I had thought that your definite success in finding Anthony might be enough to break through this mindset."

Tim looked back at his knees.

"You have done nothing wrong, Timothy. Please, don't let yourself turn this moment that should be one of joy into another opportunity to question yourself. Anthony is returning because he himself knows that it's what he should do. He made this choice himself. And you made it possible for the choice to be made at all."

Tim sighed and rested his head on his knees.

"I told you, Ducky. I'm just stupid. I don't know why this keeps happening, but once I think of it, I can't think of anything else. It just... takes over my brain and... and that's all there is."

Then, there it was again, the dreaded comforting arm around his shoulders.

"That's why, when we get back, you will resume your therapy. You are in need of it, something that can break through this mental loop you seem to be stuck in. Once you started your search for Anthony, you were away from that help and you desperately need it. Perhaps not in the same way that Anthony does, but you both are in need of assistance in getting through your challenges."

Reluctantly, Tim let himself lean on Ducky instead of pulling away.

"I hate feeling like this all the time," he confessed.

"Then, we'll help you avoid it," Ducky said, firmly. "For now, instead of dwelling on your dour thoughts, why don't we talk about how good Anthony's performance was?"

"Aren't you tired, Ducky? You don't need to stay awake for this."

"Not so tired that I can't help a friend in his struggles. Our flight is not early. We can still sleep as we need it. Now, which of Anthony's songs did you enjoy the most?"

"Uh... I don't know," Tim said.

"Then, think about it," Ducky said, encouragingly.

Tim took a breath and nodded. "They were all good. I'm not as big a fan of Billy Joel as Tony is, but the songs were good. I really like 'Summer, Highland Falls'. I heard it for the first time while I was looking for him and I always liked it."

"That is a lovely song and it's clear that Anthony likes it as well. I quite enjoyed his performance of 'Piano Man' since that is apparently how the patrons referred to him. He seemed to be having a good time playing it. It was almost a form of teasing. He liked having the patrons sing along with him."

Tim smiled and nodded. He relaxed a little.

"He said he's a performer," he said.

"Indeed, he is," Ducky said, smiling as well. "I didn't know that song in which a couple of patrons acted as percussionists. Did you?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I didn't, but he had fun with that one, too. But some of the songs weren't about having fun."

"No. I'd wager that some he sang meant a lot to him. The final song he played about his last words. That was more than a performance. That was his farewell. His way of letting go and he did it very well. A hint of the bittersweet, but overall, a willingness to move on to the next stage of his life."

"Move on or move back?" Tim asked.

"Move on," Ducky repeated. "There is no truly going back. After all that happened, we have all been changed permanently. Even with Anthony returning home, it won't truly be going back. It will be moving forward."

"Yeah."

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Ducky said. "It's important to understand that our lives are always in a state of change. Sometimes the changes are dramatic, sometimes, painful. But change is a part of life. Your changes weren't what anyone would have wanted, but they still happened. Perhaps you could take a page from Anthony's book."

"What do you mean?"

"I believe he sang that it was time to put the book away. Perhaps what you need to do is put away the book of these last months and focus on what's coming next in your life. It doesn't make the events cease to exist, but it allows you to think of other things."

Tim knew that Ducky was right. It was just so hard to think about it that way.

"And for now, Timothy..."

"Yeah?"

"It would be best for you to try to get some more sleep. I'm sure you're tired."

"Yeah."

Ducky patted him on the back.

"Then, try it and rest easy, knowing that you have done the best possible for your friend. Anthony now has the chance to return to his life... because of you."

Tim looked down. He didn't know how to respond to that.

Another pat on the back and Ducky stood.

"Perhaps someday, you will be able to accept that."

"Perhaps," Tim whispered. Then, he lay down.

It was quiet in the room again. Tim wasn't sure he could sleep, even now.

"Timothy, Anthony is embracing this chance he has. You should do the same."

Tim heard, but he didn't respond. Instead, he rolled over and tried to sleep.

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

Tony woke up and, for a moment, wasn't sure where he was. The sun was shining brightly and the bed he was lying on was soft and much larger than the one he'd been sleeping on. He opened his eyes and sat up quickly, looking around.

The hotel. Oh, yeah.

"You all right?"

He turned again and saw Gibbs just coming out of the bathroom.

"Yeah. I just..." Tony paused and realized that he was reluctant to use the word forgot. Forgetting meant far more than a momentary lapse in memory. It meant total loss. But what other word could he use in its place? The pause became too long.

"...forgot where you were?" Gibbs finished for him.

"Yeah."

"It's all right. Happens."

"Yeah. Seems a little more serious now, for some reason."

Gibbs smiled slightly.

"You did good last night."

Tony found he could smile at that.

"Thanks, Boss. Had to say good-bye in my own way."

"Nothing wrong with that, either."

Tony took a breath.

"I know I asked this already, but I have to ask again. Is this going to work? Me coming back? Can I really do it?"

"You can. Your choice about whether or not you will," Gibbs said.

"I'll try."

"Good."

"What'll happen first?"

Gibbs' smile returned. "You'll get on a plane."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"That might be the hardest part," Gibbs said.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Then, you get a shrink and you work on it. ...and you let Tim help you."

"What?" Tony asked. "When he has all this stuff he needs to work on? He doesn't need to deal with trying to help me get my head on straight, too."

"It'll help him. Let him help you some of the way and you'll help him some of the way."

Reluctantly, Tony nodded.

"Okay."

"For now, we get breakfast."

"Okay."

Tony went into the bathroom to get ready and he looked at himself in the mirror.

And he knew who he saw there. It wasn't a stranger looking at him. He didn't feel like he had felt at the beginning of this when he had hated to see himself simply because he didn't know who he was. He didn't even feel that dislocation about which life he should be experiencing. Now, he knew.

He was Tony DiNozzo... and more importantly, he was getting back to knowing who Tony was.

And if he needed to help Tim make those same strides, then, he would. It was the only way that he could really express his gratitude.

He quickly finished getting ready and then went down to the continental breakfast with Gibbs. Ducky and Tim were already there, and while Tim still didn't look his best, his smile when he greeted them was close to a real one without that tinge of relief that Tony hadn't run off in the night.

"So... what's good?" Tony asked.

"Everything is okay," Tim said, sounding almost normal, too.

"I see you got your sugar fix," Tony said, eyeing Tim's plate.

Tim actually grinned. "I've been told to eat more."

"I'll bet they didn't mean sugary cereals and glazed doughnuts."

"They never specified."

Tony chuckled and then went around to get his own breakfast. When he came back, they all ate for a bit, mostly in silence, but then, Ducky and Gibbs simultaneously remembered something back in the rooms that they needed to get. So they left Tony and Tim sitting at the table, finishing their meals.

"Tony... um... you sounded really good last night," Tim said awkwardly. "I was tired but I really was listening and it was good."

Tony smiled. "Thanks."

"Are you sure you want to leave this?"

"Want to? I don't know. Need to? Yeah. This isn't my life. It's the life I created in the empty space in my brain. Now that I know what belongs in that space, it's time to take that life out."

"Are you sure you're not just saying that because you know that's what people expect?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. Tim was trying not to look him quite in the eye. Not a full avoidance of eye contact but not really looking at him. And Tony was starting to see what Gibbs had meant. If Tony really needed Tim to stick around just to help things be more normal for him, Tim needed to know that Tony really did want to do what he was doing.

"Oh, come on," he said, forcing a little more confidence than he felt. "When have I ever done things just because people expect me to? I'm usually the one trying to be difficult."

Tim still seemed worried. Tony could see that simply being upbeat wasn't going to do it.

"Tim, I already thanked you for finding me. I meant it. My only issue is that I know it's going to be hard and I don't want it to be. I want it to be easy, but it's not. So I'm going to have to work on that. And if it isn't too wimpy of me to say it... I need you to be there to help me, and more than that, I really want to have you there. Tim, every time I see you, I get to see again that you didn't really die like I kept dreaming you did... like I thought when I saw you fall. It helps to know it didn't happen like I thought it did."

Tim actually looked at him.

"I'm serious, Tim," Tony said. "I really mean what I'm saying. We're both going back and we're both going to be leaning on each other. ...and that's okay."

"I'm not very good at leaning," Tim said, finally, smiling a little bit.

"You just need practice. I think we'll both get plenty of it."

"Maybe."

"Definitely," Tony said. He hesitated for a moment, knowing how loaded this statement could be. "We were each other's backup before. We still will be now."

"You sure you trust me to do that?" Tim asked.

"Positive. What do you say?"

Another pause. Then, Tim's smile widened slightly.

"As long as I don't have to be your backup singer."

Tony laughed. "Nope. I promise. I'm a soloist."

"Okay."

Ducky and Gibbs miraculously reappeared and they checked out of the hotel and headed for the airport. Tony felt more than a little bit sad at leaving the good people he'd met here, but as Billy Joel had sung, the words had been spoken already, but unlike Billy, Tony knew where he was going and he knew why.

Tomorrow would be extremely different from yesterday.

They got on the plane and Tony tried to relax in the seat as he came closer and closer to getting back into the life he'd lost before.

Gibbs had said it might be hard getting onto the plane. He was wrong. It was staying on the plane that was hard. There was a big part of him that really wanted to run off the plane and back to the bar where he knew exactly what he'd get.

He was sitting next to Tim who was in the window seat. Gibbs and Ducky were across the aisle.

"Hey, Tim. Mind trading me places?" Tony asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Huh?" Tim asked. His eyes were looking a little droopy already.

"Mind if we trade seats?" Tony repeated. Then, he lied. "I just want to get a last look at Los Angeles as we take off."

"Oh... sure. That's fine," Tim said.

Tony stood up and moved out into the aisle and let Tim step out. Then, he sat down in the seat by the window and Tim sat next to him. Effectively trapped in the row, Tony actually felt a little better. He couldn't just start running. He'd have to stay where he was. And he really did want to. It just made him feel better if he was a little hemmed in. He exhaled and looked out the window.

"You okay?" Tim asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay, Tim," Tony said.

He tried to pay attention to the safety information, but he was distracted by the door closing and the plane starting to taxi. He could feel himself getting more and more tense as the reality of what was happening became more and more apparent.

I don't know if I can do this, Tony thought to himself.

Then, as the plane stopped and the pilot announced they were next in line for takeoff, Tony suddenly felt a hand on his arm. He looked over and saw Tim smiling.

"It's going to be okay, Tony," Tim said, softly.

Tony felt some surprise and he knew it showed.

"I know how you're feeling. You can do it."

"You sure about that?" Tony asked.

"Positive."

The plane started to roll forward, quickly picking up speed as it started to take off. Tony still felt tense, and Tim kept his hand on Tony's arm.

Tony felt the liftoff, but more than that, he felt the support Tim was giving him, support that had nothing to with Tony being trapped by the window and everything to do with that simple physical contact, keeping him connected. Tony needed that. As the plane reached cruising altitude, Tim's hand was still there and Tony finally took a breath.

"Thanks, Tim," he said.

"You're welcome."

Then, Tim leaned his seat back a little and his eyes closed. Tony realized that Tim had stayed awake just to help him.

"Thanks, Tim," he whispered again.

Maybe sleep was what he needed right now. Instead of focusing on the worry of what might happen in D.C., he closed his eyes and tried to relax.

And he slept.