Chapter 7

Tim headed out of NCIS, ready to go home and, hopefully, have a good night's sleep this time.

"Timothy!"

Tim stopped and looked back.

"Yeah, Ducky?"

Ducky came up and walked with him out of the building.

"How was your meeting with Dr. Hicks?"

Tim smiled at the concern.

"It was fine. Dr. Hicks suggested that one of the reasons it seemed so intense is because I'm not used to having the dreams anymore."

"That could definitely be a factor. Did you tell him about your feeling?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I decided that I'd just wait and see what life brings. Besides, I'd already talked about that with you." He grinned.

Ducky chuckled. "I'm hardly at the same level as Dr. Hicks."

"No, but what I said to you wasn't really about psychology, at least, not to me. It was something else and I figured that I'd already addressed it once. If the feeling doesn't go away after a few days, then, I'll bring it up. I have my regular session with him next week anyway."

"How long will you continue?" Ducky asked, and Tim could tell it was simply curiosity.

"Long term. More than that, I can't say, but I figure that I've had enough assaults on my psyche to last a lifetime. So if I decide that I need help for a lifetime, that's acceptable."

"Not only acceptable, but admirable that you can open yourself that much and can see when you need help."

There was a slightly bitter twist to Tim's smile. He felt it.

"I've lots of practice, Ducky."

"I know that, lad, and I'm sorry for it, but it's a wonderful thing to see you so settled now."

"It definitely feels better." Then, Tim looked at his watch. "I'd better get going. I don't like making Zahara wait for dinner if I don't have to."

"Then, by all means, be on your way," Ducky said, quickly. "I'll see you in the morning."

"I'll be here."

Tim and Ducky parted ways and Tim headed for his car, glad that he had that kind of support, people he could always rely on.

Before he started driving, though, his phone started ringing. He answered quickly, hoping that it wouldn't take long. At this time of day, he didn't like to talk and drive.

"Tim McGee," he said.

"Hey, Tim. It's Daniel."

"Daniel?" Tim repeated in surprise. "I haven't heard from you in months. What's up?"

"Actually, I'm in D.C. for the next couple of weeks and I was hoping that we could catch up."

"Absolutely," Tim said. He thought for a few seconds and then, added, "Actually, why don't you join Zahara and me for dinner tonight? I'm just heading home from work, myself, and Zahara always makes tons."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be. Zahara and I are heading toward our second anniversary, don't forget. We eat together a lot. Pretty much every day."

"You sound happy about that."

"I am. Very happy. But what brings you to D.C.?"

"Actually, it's a stopover to make some reports, give some in-person updates. I was in Nebraska."

Tim heard some sadness in Daniel's voice and he guessed what it was.

"Your dad?"

"Yeah. The funeral was yesterday. He died last week."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Daniel."

There was a sigh. "Yeah. Me, too. But at the same time, it was probably best for him. He'd had another stroke just last month and he didn't know anyone, couldn't move. He was miserable. And I did get him to Marrakech one last time before he died. And I got to say good-bye."

"That's something. I'd love to talk. Please, come over tonight. No reason to eat alone when you could eat in company. Zahara will probably even have mint tea for you."

Daniel chuckled. "Not for you?"

"She knows I don't like it. Sometimes, I'll have a cup with her, but she knows it's just to keep her company."

"Well, I wouldn't mind some mint tea. Didn't get any of that at home."

"Do you still have my address?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll just meet you there?"

"Yep. I'll call Zahara and tell her to expect you if you get there first."

"All right. See you in a few."

"Yeah. Bye."

Tim hung up and smiled. It would be good to see Daniel again, even as he felt sorry for the loss that had brought him stateside.

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

They dropped him in the room, clearly frustrated at their lack of success. They knew he felt the pain. It was impossible with what they were doing to him that he wouldn't, but he refused to react in any way, as much as possible. He couldn't move himself for the time being, so he lay where he was. Unmoving. He breathed irregularly and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. It was the only expression of his physical pain.

As he lay on the floor, he closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he'd needed to rely on the escape from his pain. Now, was a good time for it, though. Maybe he'd make it this time.

He kept his eyes closed and slowly, he managed to conjure up the image that he had always used to escape. He was standing on a farm, walking along a canal. The water flowed downstream and he walked in the same direction. His pace was slow and faltering, but he knew there was someone waiting for him at the end of the road, just out of sight. The road was rutted and overgrown, but it was straight. Right now, there was a strong wind blowing in his face, keeping him from making much progress, even ripping the air from his mouth, making it difficult to breathe.

With his eyes closed, he was able to forget about the hard floor, the pain, the guilt, everything. All that mattered was walking toward his destination. When he'd been a captive before, it was how he'd avoided giving in to the questions. He'd never reached his destination that time. He'd been rescued. This time, however, he wasn't sure that there was any reason to believe that anyone would realize he'd been taken.

Since Tamara was dead.

His steps along the canal faltered and he began to feel the pain again. He pushed away the reality and pursued his path.

The path led away from the pain. Toward oblivion.

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

Tim beat Daniel home, and he was relieved that Zahara really had picked something that would have lots of leftovers. She had made couscous with vegetables and chicken, and she'd made oodles of it. When Daniel arrived, he was happy to have a Moroccan meal far away from Morocco. They spent a nice evening, eating and talking. Then, they cleaned up the kitchen and sat down to talk a little more.

"So will you go back to Marrakech?" Tim asked.

"Of course," Daniel said. "Nothing's changed about why I'm there."

"Oh, I know. I just wondered if..." Tim paused, thinking about how to say it. "...if maybe being there was more living out your dad's dream than your own."

Daniel smiled and shook his head. "No. I love it there, and I know that Dad would be happy about my being there, but only if I was happy, too. Mom said that she'd come out to visit next year. James wants to bring his wife out, too. I'll have to space out the visits, but now that Mom doesn't have to worry about taking care of Dad, she'll have more free time. Hopefully, not too much."

Tim nodded. "Oh, did I tell you that Zahara became a citizen?"

"No!" Daniel said. He looked at Zahara. "Congratulations. When did this happen?"

"Just on the weekend," Zahara said. "My brother came to see it. Now, I am waiting for the chance to get my passport and then, next year, Tim has promised that we will go to visit Ahmed and maybe go back to Morocco if it is safe. ...but only if it is safe."

"Really?" Daniel asked, looking at Tim with a grin. "You're going to venture out?"

"Not all at once, but yeah. Eventually," Tim said.

Daniel chuckled at Tim's hedging. They continued to talk about Zahara's experiences, where she'd gone and what she still needed to see. Finally, Daniel looked at his watch and groaned good-naturedly.

"Oh, I've got to get going. I have a meeting first thing tomorrow morning and I don't want to be groggy for it. It might make my employers question what I'm doing."

Tim stood as Daniel prepared to leave.

"I hope you'll come by again while you're here. It's been great to see you."

"Absolutely. Especially if you keep cooking Moroccan food," Daniel said, smiling at Zahara.

"Tomorrow, is the day I try something American. I am going to try making salmon. I have never had it before."

"Cool. Do you do any cooking, Tim?" Daniel asked.

"On the weekends," Tim said. "Or when I take a day off. Otherwise, we'd just end up eating takeout every night."

"Of course. Typical."

Tim smiled.

"Let us know when you can come over."

"Will do."

Daniel walked out and Tim locked the door behind him. Then, he turned back to Zahara smiled.

"You were happy to see him," Zahara said.

"Yeah. I haven't since the wedding. It's hard having friends so spread out across the world. I know you feel that, too."

Zahara nodded. "Yes. I wish Khadija could come here again. Fatima has come more often, but Khadija is not so free to travel."

Tim nodded. "Next year, when you have your passport."

"I believe you, Tim. If it is safe. How are you feeling?"

"Better than last night. I talked to Dr. Hicks today and he said that a lot of it is just that I'm not used to the nightmares anymore. So when I have them, they're worse than they would be otherwise."

"So this is a good thing?" she asked.

"Maybe. I don't know if I think so," Tim said.

"I don't know, either," Zahara said.

"I'm not really ready to go to bed yet. Are you?"

"No. Not with Daniel coming here. Would you like to watch a movie?"

"Yeah. Sure."

They both changed into pajamas and then, with some popcorn, they began watching one of the classics from Tim's childhood: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

And they both fell asleep watching the movie.

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

Tim's phone started ringing, pulling him out of a sound, albeit rather uncomfortable sleep. Zahara was leaning on his arm and it was numb. He sat up, trying not to jostle Zahara too much, but he had to move her to get to his phone.

"Mā hāthā?" she mumbled, beginning to wake up.

"It's just my phone. I hope it's not a case. I hate it when they start late," Tim grumbled. He shifted over so that he could reach his phone.

"McGee," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Agent McGee?"

That was not the voice he had expected.

"Yes. Who is this?" Tim asked, feeling much more awake.

"It's Tamara Carew. Please. Can I come in?"

"Come in?"

"I'm outside your building, but I don't know your door code or your apartment number. Levi... Levi had your phone number and address. So I'm using it to call you. Please. Please, let me in."

She sounded worried, on the edge of becoming frantic.

"Of course. The door code is 435. I'm in apartment 515. Come up."

"Thank you. So much."

She hung up and Tim looked at Zahara feeling some confusion. He knew it showed.

"What is going on, Tim?" Zahara asked. "Not a case?"

"I don't think so. That was Levi Carew's wife...or ex-wife. She seemed afraid and was asking to come in."

"What is she afraid of?"

"I have no idea, but I didn't want to leave her outside at..." He looked at the clock. "...at one in the morning. I don't know if she'll need a place to sleep..."

"She is welcome, of course," Zahara said. "I will get the spare room ready, just in case."

"Thanks."

Only a minute later, there was a knock at the door. Tim walked over quickly and checked through the peephole, first. He had his gun in hand. Just in case.

He opened the door.

Tamara was alone, but Tim was shocked at how she looked. There were shallow abrasions on her face and hands. Mostly, though, she seemed terrified.

"What happened?" Tim asked.

"Please, let me inside, first," Tamara said, sounding almost teary. "I'll tell you why I'm here."

Tim stood aside and Tamara came in, limping a little bit. Tim locked the door behind her and then walked over to the couch. He gestured for her to sit.

"Please, sit down," Tim said. "What's going on? Where's Levi?"

"I don't know," Tamara said, tears coming to her eyes. "That's why I'm here."

"What do you mean?" Tim asked. "I haven't seen him since..."

"No. It's not that. Someone's taken Levi. And...and they tried to kill me in the process. They destroyed the cabin we were in. I think I was supposed to die in the fire, but I got out. I heard Levi calling for me. But they took him."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I just know that they took him, and I had to get back here, but I didn't have any money. The car was burned out. I didn't dare ask for help. What if someone was still around, looking for me? So I walked, except for the last fifty miles or so when I got a ride and then I walked another two miles to our house. It's been days, almost a week, but I knew I had to get back here. And then, I couldn't think of anyone else that Levi would trust to help him. Except you."

"But if he's been abducted, you could go to the police. No matter who he is, kidnapping is a crime," Tim said. "The police would investigate."

Tamara shook her head. "I know, but at the same time, this is not something normal, not something I think would be for regular police. If I had been killed, no one would ever have known that Levi was gone, unless Bri started looking for us, but she knows that we go on these trips and she might not worry for weeks. Agent McGee, I think that this is something that is bigger than just a kidnapping. ...and I'm afraid for what's going to happen to him, what might already be happening to him. ...and I'm sure he thinks I'm dead. I don't know if he could take that. Not now. I need help finding him."

Tim took a breath and sat back on the couch. He could see that Tamara was telling the truth as she knew it. She was injured. She looked like she was still in a bit of shock. If she had walked back to D.C. from wherever they'd been, it had taken her days to do it. But the plain fact of the matter was that Tim had no idea who would abduct the former director and try to kill Tamara in addition. He didn't know much about Levi's previous work as a CIA agent, only as a director. There were too many possibilities.

And yet...

He leaned forward.

"Okay," he said. "I have no idea who would be part of this, but I know where I'll need to start, and I can't do this alone. With your permission, I want to call my boss and get his help. We'll keep this quiet, but there's no way I can do this without help."

Tamara thought about it for a few seconds.

"Your boss is that Agent Gibbs, right?" she asked.

"Yes."

Finally, she nodded.

"Okay. If that's what you need."

"I really do."

"Where will you start?"

"Back at the cabin. I'll need you to tell me where it is so we can go out there and see if there's any evidence. After days, there may not be anything left, but we can start there and see what there is to see."

"Okay."

"Good." Tim looked up and saw Zahara standing quietly by the door to the spare room. He smiled. "Tamara, this is my wife, Zahara."

Tamara turned and looked at Zahara and then she looked back at Tim and smiled for a moment. He could see that she remembered their conversation before he'd decided to propose.

Zahara walked over and knelt on the floor, gently taking Tamara's hands and examining the injuries.

"I am so sorry for what has happened to you," she said.

"Thank you," Tamara said.

"Please, come with me. You may sleep here, tonight. You will be safe here."

"Oh, I couldn't impose," Tamara said.

"Yes, you can," Zahara said. "You are tired. You are afraid. You need someone close by. Please, come. I will help you tend to your injuries and then, you can try to sleep."

She stood and held out her hand. Tamara nodded and let Zahara lead her back to the room. Zahara looked back once and Tim understood that she would stay with Tamara to help in any way she could get Tamara to accept. Then, the door closed.