Chapter 3

"It's alright, Timothy. Just breathe. Take a deep breath. That's right. Now another. Hold it. Let it out slowly. Good." Ducky held onto Tim's shoulders as his breathing normalized and then gently lowered him to the ground as he finally passed out.

Gibbs came over and knelt on the grass. "Will he be okay, Duck?"

"I believe so. The shock overloaded his system. If he found those bodies in the dark, it must have thrown him for quite a loop. Did you know about this?"

"No. His file said his father was deceased, but not that there was suicide and certainly not that he'd found the body."

"I wouldn't be too hard on Tony if I were you. I'll bet even Timothy won't blame him when he wakes up. He's apparently gone to great lengths to not tell anyone about it."

"Ducky? Gibbs? What are you doing here?" The voice that came up from the ground was very faint. "What am I doing out here?" Tim started to sit up.

Ducky held him down. "I think you should just stay down for a few more minutes, Timothy. Let yourself recover."

For a moment, Tim's face reflected a general confusion about recent events and then he remembered and at once it changed to horror and embarrassment. "I..." He couldn't go on.

"How old were you, Timothy?"

Tim closed his eyes. There was no way he could still hide it. He could feel the tears starting. He swallowed hard. "Thirteen."

"I see. How are you feeling?"

Tim tried to smile through his tears. "Okay." He opened his eyes and squinted at Gibbs. "Can Tony finishing processing the basement, boss?"

"They're already working on it, McGee."

"Good."

Ducky asked gently, "Can you tell me what happened down there?"

Tim swallowed again and nodded. "I had just started going down the stairs when Tony closed the door. He locked it. I went down to turn on the light, but it didn't work. I told Tony that I couldn't see anything, but he told me to just use my flashlight. So I did, but..."

"But what, McGee?"

If Tim hadn't been so white, he would have been blushing. "I had forgotten to change the batteries and it was almost dead. I knew Tony wouldn't let me out for a few more minutes at least so I figured I could just look around a bit. It was probably empty except for cobwebs." Tim closed his eyes as he got to the part that had scared him so badly. Ducky nearly interrupted, but Tim continued, "I-I tripped over a stove and lost my bearings so I decided to just walk until I hit a wall and follow it back to the stairs. I took a couple of steps and I..." Tim swallowed again. "I ran into a-a body, hanging from the ceiling. I didn't know for sure what it was at first; I couldn't see anything, but it was like my worst nightmare so I figured I probably knew. But I had to be sure before I told Tony and Ziva." The tears came again. "The body was almost a skeleton. I think I screamed, but then I seemed to be in a whole crowd of bodies and I kept running into them and then into the wall. I don't know how I got outside." He tried to smile. He failed. "But I guess we have more than just a dead lieutenant."

"It would seem so," Ducky agreed. "You feel like you could sit up, Timothy?"

"Yeah. I think so." Ducky helped him up. The world spun a little. "I don't think I'm ready to stand yet."

Gibbs took over. "That's fine. Take it slow. Ducky, I think you have some bodies to examine."

"You're right. I'll call Mr. Palmer and have him bring the truck over." Ducky stood and walked back toward the house.

"McGee?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Why wasn't that in your file?"

Tim looked down, ashamed. "I-I couldn't stand the questions when I'd go for interviews."

"McGee, did you change your own file?"

"Yeah. It's still in the public record and in old newspapers. I only changed my official file, just before I finished at FLETC. He's still dead. I just took out how. People seem to feel they can ask about suicide if it's mentioned and they treated me like I was somehow contaminated by it. I just couldn't–"

Gibbs looked at his agent. Tim was gaining color in his face again. "Did you ever talk to anyone?"

Tim grinned mirthlessly. "I think that's all I talked about for two years of therapy. I passed with flying colors." Tim finally looked up at Gibbs. "I swear, boss, nothing like that has ever happened before. I've never freaked out about–about bodies like that. I've generally been fine since high school."

"I believe you, McGee. I can certainly understand not wanting everyone to know."

Tim swallowed back more tears. "I feel okay now. I think I can go back in and help."

"You sure, McGee?"

"Maybe just upstairs." Tim tried to smile again. He started to stand, but he felt so lightheaded that he nearly fell. Gibbs steadied him. "Okay, maybe not."

"Why don't you just go and wait in the car? There'll be plenty of people to finish up. Can you make it?"

"Yeah. You know, it's kind of funny," Tim said, as he started to walk away, even though it wasn't funny at all. "It happened fifteen years ago this week." He couldn't look at Gibbs. His eyes were red, but they were dry for the moment. Tim decided to cut through the house. It was faster. He saw Tony just coming out of the basement. For once, he didn't have even a hint of a smile. He looked almost tentative.

"McGee, I'm really sorry."

Tim appreciated the gesture, but he found that he wasn't in a state to handle any more questions or even kindness. "It's okay, Tony. Just drop it. It happened a long time ago." He kept walking.

When he reached the car, he sank into the front seat with a sigh. He knew what to expect for the next few days. The nightmares had already started. They would get worse. It would take him awhile to find his equilibrium again, especially now. Besides, Sarah would be calling. So would his mother. They always did. He had completely fallen apart on the first anniversary of his dad's death and now they tried to make sure it never happened again. But last year he'd had a minor meltdown and had to call in sick. No one would ever have known why, until now.

Gibbs watched out the front window as Jimmy pulled up in the truck and asked Tim why he was just sitting around. Tim had actually managed to plaster a smile on his face, even though he looked exhausted, and said that he was resting on his laurels because he was the one who had found the bodies. After Jimmy passed by, Gibbs watched as Tim sagged and closed his eyes. Fifteen years. And for the last three he had been working at NCIS and no one had a clue that this was the anniversary of the death of his father. Everyone had their secrets. It looked like Tim was no exception.

Ziva came up behind Gibbs. "I found McGee's flashlight. It was burned out. You know, Gibbs. I went along with it, too. It wasn't just Tony."

"I guessed."

"Is he okay?"

"For now."

"I'm glad." She started to go back to the basement then turned. "Here. McGee must have dropped it." She handed Gibbs Tim's bag."

"Thanks. I'm going to take him back to NCIS. He doesn't want this spread around. I expect you and Tony to respect that."

"Understood."

"Good." Gibbs left and found Tim asleep in the car. There was no way to open and close the door without waking him up so he just went ahead and did it. "Wake up, McGee. Time to get back to work."

Tim's eyes flew open and Gibbs saw the fear in them well up and disappear almost instantly. In fact, Gibbs would have missed it if he hadn't been watching him closely. Tim was a lot stronger than they all had assumed. "Yes, boss. Right away." He started to stand up.

"Not here, McGee. Get in the car."

"Okay."

The ride back was silent. Tim looked studiously out the window. He really hoped Gibbs wouldn't be nice to him. You could never tell how Gibbs was going to react to these things, particularly lately, and he might start crying again. This had been too real.

"McGee?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Are you alright?"

That did it. The tears welled up again. He pushed them back although he still sounded a little teary, he knew. "Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He breathed deeply to control his emotions. "Yeah. I'll be fine. This isn't a good week, but I'll be fine."

"You can go home if you want."

"No!" Tim nearly shouted, and then embarrassed by his outburst he repeated more softly, "No, boss. I'd rather work and stay busy."

Gibbs just nodded, unsurprised. He wouldn't have left himself. When they got back, Tim started to catalog the evidence they had already collected. When Tony and Ziva finished processing the house and returned to NCIS, Tim silently took the evidence and photos down to Abby, more to avoid questions and stares than anything. He walked into her lab and into normalcy. Her music was blaring and the same gruesome pictures graced the walls. Strange as she was, she was comforting. Tim sighed with relief.

"What have you got for me, McGee?" Abby said, not even turning from her computer.

"I'll never figure out how you can hear me above your music," Tim said.

"It's a gift. What do you have? I heard there were more bodies."

"Yeah, in the basement. Fingerprints, photos, DNA samples. Ducky's working on the autopsies."

"Cool. You know, I think you need more sun, Tim. You're looking pretty pale."

Tim smiled. People see what they want to see. "You're right. Maybe I'll go tanning."

"Or you could go Goth. I think you could pull it off."

"I don't think so."

"Don't knock it, until you've tried it."

"I'll keep it in mind." Tim unexpectedly kissed her on the cheek and left the lab. Abby looked after him with a surprised smile.

When Tim returned to his desk, he noticed both Tony and Ziva giving him quick glances. Tony still looked guilty. Although he had managed to get his mask back in place, he still couldn't face the necessity of speaking to Tony. He wasn't angry, but he felt stretched and raw and couldn't wait to go home.

Suddenly, Gibbs looked at him. "McGee, why don't you head home? Until the autopsies are done, we'll be just sitting around anyway."

Tim considered that for a moment. Yes, he wanted to leave. "Thanks, boss." He quickly picked up his bag and started toward the elevators. He noticed Tony starting to speak to him, probably to apologize or something like that. Tim couldn't bear to listen. He increased his speed so that Tony didn't have time to say anything. He got to his apartment without incident and opened the door to find that a tornado had hit.