Chapter 4

"Hey, Tim!" Came a voice from the bedroom. "It was too loud in the dorm, and I need to study. Since it was so close anyway, I decided to stay here for a couple of days." Sarah walked out drying her hair. "Besides, you know how Mom is. She doesn't like you being alone." She stopped talking when she finally saw her brother's face. "Tim, you look terrible. What happened?"

"Hi Sarah."

"What's going on?"

Tim shook his head. "It was just a case today... in a basement."

"Oh. Was it...?"

Tim just nodded. "It's probably going to be bad tonight. You don't have to stay. This shouldn't be your responsibility."

"That's why I'm here, Tim. Don't worry about it. You help me all the time. I can help out my big brother once a year." Inside though, Sarah was dreading the night. Tim always knew when it would be bad, and it was a little frightening to see her brother acting like that. But that was her task. They spent the evening talking and then she studied for a couple of hours while Tim cleaned up his apartment and got ready for bed.

He actually managed to sleep solidly for almost four hours, probably as a result of what had happened that day. That was a record, but he woke up in such a panic that he gagged and had to run to the bathroom. He stayed in there, leaning on the toilet, for another hour while Sarah waited in the bed. When he finally came back, she smiled at him and he managed to return the grin. He fell asleep again right away, but starting screaming within minutes. Tim would never tell her exactly what was in his nightmares, but she knew that he was reliving the moment over and over again. She had only been about five and didn't remember much. Besides, she had never seen him dead. It was easy for her to just know that their dad was dead.

Finally, at about five in the morning, after a series of violent nightmares, Tim had fallen into a deep sleep. Sarah had followed suit almost immediately, but woke up when the alarm went off at seven. Usually, Tim was already awake, but he didn't move. She decided to get ready and let him sleep a little longer.

"Tim, time to wake up. Come on, Tim. You're going to be late for work!" Sarah shook Tim hard, but it still took nearly five minutes for him to really wake up.

"Wha–?"

"Tim, if you're late, you might get fired!" She had no idea if that was really true, but it seemed to be the right thing to say. Gibbs had looked like that kind of boss.

Tim groggily looked over at his clock. Immediately, he jumped out of bed. "Is that really the time?"

"Yes, Tim. You're going to be late."

"I can't be late!" Tim ran into the bathroom. With a speed Sarah genuinely envied him for, he managed to shower and get dressed and run out the door. Then, he ran back in and hugged his sister. "Thanks, Sarah."

"You're welcome." Sarah smiled and pushed him out the door. Then, she sighed. It hadn't been that bad since the first year. At least that she knew. Even she remembered Tim's breakdown that time.

Tim ran in. "Sorry, I'm late boss."

Gibbs scrutinized his agent. Tim was still pale and it didn't look like he'd slept much, but he was acting completely normal. "Just don't let it happen again, McGee."

"No, boss." Tim dropped his stuff at his desk and followed Gibbs, Tony and Ziva to the elevator. "Where are we going?"

"Ducky has something for us."

"Okay."

"Um, Boss?" Tony began.

"What, DiNozzo?" Gibbs glared at him.

"Are you sure that McGee...?"

Tim broke in. "It's fine, Tony. Don't worry."

The rest of the ride was silent. Tim fervently hoped that it really was fine. He shouldn't have reacted so strongly in the first place, but a repeat performance wasn't likely.

"Ah, welcome back, Timothy. I must say you're still looking more like my patients than I'd like to see."

"I'm fine, Ducky."

"If you insist."

"What have you got, Ducky?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, these men were most likely all killed by the same person."

"Killed?" Tony asked. "No mass suicide?"

"No, Tony. They were strung up after they died. I think you must have discovered the storage location."

"How did they die?"

"Well, Jethro, each one had their throat cut. I'm actually quite amazed that the heads stayed on. After decomposition, corpses often start to fall apart, but in this case, each one had the rope positioned just over the wound so that it acted like a seal."

"Time of death?"

"Varied. The one on that end was killed probably twenty years ago. This one just under three years. And our lieutenant has been dead for two weeks."

"Same killer?"

"I would think so. Same wound marks. I would say we have a serial killer on our hands. I'm sure Abby has finished with the identifications, but our killer, whoever he is, is very clean and methodical. No defense wounds, no bruising, just the quick cut..." Ducky grabbed Jimmy who was walking by and demonstrated. "...and then trussed them up like meat in a slaughterhouse. Thank you, Mr. Palmer."

Jimmy continued with his tasks, almost nonchalantly. "Anytime, Doctor."

Tim swallowed convulsively, but at least he was pretty confident that this nausea was the same he usually got when listening to Ducky's descriptions. If he just didn't act like he enjoyed it so much, it wouldn't be so bad. He listened with only half an ear while Ducky explained the decomposition process in devastating detail. He was looking steadfastly at the lieutenant they had found first. Why wasn't he in the basement as well? Why had he been left on the floor of the living room? If Ducky was right, and all these men had been killed by the same person, why had the MO changed?

"Is something wrong, McGee?" Tim jumped and noticed that Gibbs was standing right in front of him.

He gulped. Everyone was staring at him. He sighed in frustration. Just as he had expected. Once they knew, they acted like he was going to break into pieces. "Not wrong, exactly. Why would the killer have changed his MO?"

"What do you mean?"

"If those six men," Tim pointed with a finger that was almost steady, "were all killed in the same way, by the same guy and-and left in the same place, why was Lieutenant Rivens left in the middle of the living room floor? His throat was cut, yes, but he wasn't," Tim swallowed, "hung like the others. Why? I mean, you said he was killed somewhere else, but it wasn't in the house. Why drag him to the living room and not all the way to the basement?"

"Good question, McGee. Find out."

"Boss?"

"Are you deaf, McGee? We'll go and get Abby's ID's. You try and find out if the lieutenant was killed by our serial killer or if it was just a coincidence."

"Yes, Boss."

Ziva and Tony followed Gibbs out of autopsy and left Tim standing with his mouth open. Ducky walked up to him.

"How are you doing, Timothy?"

Tim brushed off his concern. "I'm fine, Ducky. Really. I'm fine, but I think I'll need your help with my new assignment."

"You don't look fine, Timothy. You're certainly acting almost back to normal, but your face makes Abby look positively tan."

Tim smiled at the comparison. He could see that Ducky wasn't going to back off this time. "I never sleep well during this week. It's all nightmares. I generally have nightmares for a few nights before and after the anniversary. It leaves me a little shaky, but I'm okay."

"Are you sure? When was the last time you had such a severe reaction?"

Tim hesitated. He didn't want to admit it. "Last year, although that wasn't as bad as this time."

"Really? And no one noticed?"

"I called in sick. Food poisoning, I think." Tim laughed wryly. "It was an accurate description. I couldn't keep anything down for a couple of days."

"You've been pretty clever at hiding it, Timothy."

"Most of the time, there's not much to hide. I have bad dreams for a few days, don't feel like eating. Usually, two weeks at the most and I'm back to normal."

"Usually?"

Tim looked around the morgue. No one but the dead to hear. "I think it will be worse this time. I can always tell when it's going to be bad. I can feel it building in my chest. I may have to call in sick again, but I don't want to make it a habit."

"Why was last year worse?"

Tim hitched his shoulders uncomfortably. He hated talking about it. It just brought the whole mess closer to the surface. "I'm not entirely sure. There was a suicide that we investigated, but I don't know if that brought it on. It could have been anything I suppose."

"No, Timothy. It couldn't have been anything. It was something specific. You're entirely too blase about this."

"Ducky, I spent two years in therapy after I found my dad's body. I didn't let it fester. I talked about it. I'm all grown up now, and I can handle it."

"If you could handle it, you wouldn't have to plan your life around whether or not your nightmares made you sick."

"Let's just work on the case, Ducky." Tim deliberately walked over to Rivens' body. "Now, is it possible that someone interrupted the killer?"

Ducky sighed, but answered, "I suppose it's possible, but we need to find the site of the actual murder. Since there was so little blood at the scene, he could have been forced to leave the body somewhere and it all drained out."

"You know, there's a trail that abuts the property where we found Rivens. He did run."

"But he didn't live anywhere near that trail."

"Hmmm..." Tim sighed. "I just don't know, Ducky. I didn't expect to have to do this on my own. I'll just go and see what they're doing. Maybe Abby has something that can help."

"Wait! Timothy!" But it was too late. Tim had left the morgue. He'd get to the lab before they could do anything. This time, Ducky didn't even think of using the video camera.