Chapter 16
"Timothy, wait a moment."
Tim had been heading out of the morgue. Abby hadn't wanted to leave him, but she still had her own work to do, and Tim had calmed down considerably. He was empty, drained of tears as well as emotion, at least for the moment.
"What, Ducky?"
"Let's go outside. I need to ask you something, but it doesn't have to be done in a morgue." He smiled.
"Okay." Tim waited while Ducky grabbed his coat. The elevator ride was silent. Once they got outside, Ducky sat on a bench and glanced at Tim as he sat beside him. This calm was almost unnerving after the explosive emotion he'd let out before.
"How are you feeling, Timothy?"
"I don't know, Ducky." Tim leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees. "How should I be feeling?" There was no rancor in his question, just simple confusion.
"Timothy, if I knew that, I think I'd be the smartest man in the world."
Tim smiled sadly. "I think you're pretty close." He hesitated, then said, "My dad would have liked you. He loved to learn new things and then tell us about them, even when we didn't care."
"Tell me about him."
A gamut of emotions danced across his face ranging from pain to happiness. "He was kind of a cross between you and Gibbs, not quite so stern as Gibbs and not as glib as you. He always had a story ready if we complained about anything." Tim actually laughed a little. "You know the type: 'When I was your age we walked to school uphill both ways through a blinding snowstorm.' He worked a lot. He had to, but whenever he wasn't working, he was at home with us. He always said that family was the most important thing we could have. Nothing could replace it and nothing could break it." Tim grimaced. "That's what he said, but–" he stopped abruptly and tried to stop the tears the threatened to fall again.
"But he broke it, didn't he?" Ducky said softly.
Tim sniffed. "Yeah. He broke it, and I was mad at him for it for awhile. I felt like he had lied, that we weren't enough."
"And now?"
"Now, I'm just sad. Sometimes, I think back and try to figure out what might have pushed him to it. I know he loved us, but something must have been stronger. Out front I've accepted that I'll never know what he was thinking, but inside... it still hurts, Ducky. It hurts as much now as it did when I first saw him. I felt abandoned, alone in the basement. The nightmares only come once a year, but sometimes I wish I could wake up and have this whole thing, everything I've done since then, just be a nightmare."
Ducky put a hand on Tim's back. Tim stiffened at first, but then sighed and dropped his head.
"What do I say to her, Ducky?"
"To whom?"
"Liz Rivens. How do I tell her what we found?"
"How do you wish you had found out about when your father died?"
"I wish I hadn't known at all, but if I don't tell her now, she'll read it in the papers."
"But if you didn't have a choice; you were going to have to know that your father died after you got home, how would you have wanted to know?"
Tim considered the idea. "I wish my mom had taken me aside and told me that Dad had died in the afternoon, that he had left work early and no one knew why. I wish she had said that it wasn't our fault that he had killed himself, and that he still loved us even if we didn't understand why it had happened."
"You wish she had glossed it over."
"Yes. There was no reason for me to know exactly when Dad died. Knowing wouldn't have changed what I had done or not done."
"Well?"
"Don't give her the reason Gneiting gave?"
"It's a thought. She may insist and as she is not thirteen, you can't pretend that everything is okay, but if she doesn't, you don't have to give details. Tell her that we caught the man who killed her husband, that he had picked out her husband days beforehand. There was nothing she could have done to change the outcome."
Tim sat back and nodded.
"And Timothy?"
"Yes?"
"There was nothing you could have done either."
Tim turned at stared at Ducky.
"I'm sure you know that people who really want to commit suicide will eventually succeed, no matter what anyone else does. Even if you had been able to stop him that time, and I question that you could have done anything, you couldn't have been there if he tried again."
Tim was silent, but there was a subtle difference in his expression. Ducky knew well that the pain and grief of years couldn't be dispelled in a single day or even a single week, but he had truly heard what Ducky had said. Maybe that would make the difference.
"Well, Timothy, I must get home to Mother." Ducky grimaced.
Tim chuckled and stood with Ducky.
"Thanks, Ducky."
Ducky turned back to Tim and squeezed his shoulder. "Timothy, I'm just trying to open your mind to possibilities. You have to decide whether or not they'll turn into realities. Pleasant dreams." He walked away.
"Pleasant dreams," Tim repeated softly. He stood alone for a few minutes, thinking about what Ducky had said. Then, he was surprised by a clout on his back.
"Come on, Probie. I'll give you a ride home. I noticed that you didn't drive today."
"I can take the bus."
"The smelly city bus? No way."
"It's not that smelly," Tim said as Tony propelled him toward his car.
"Your olfactory receptors must be malfunctioning."
"Wow, Tony. I think that was three polysyllabic words in a single sentence. You've been practicing."
"Funny guy. Just get in the car."
"Okay."
They rode in silence for a few minutes. Tony looked over at Tim. There was a calm there that had been absent the entire week.
"McGee, I'm sorry about your dad."
Tim didn't make eye contact. "It happened a long time ago, Tony."
"I know, but it feels like it just happened too, doesn't it?"
"Sometimes."
"As long as it's real to you, then I can say I'm sorry."
Tim tried to hold back a smile. "Thanks."
"McGee, I can tell Lt. Rivens' wife tomorrow. You don't have–"
Tim interrupted. "No, Tony. I need to do it. Thanks, but I'll be okay."
The rest of the ride was silent, but the awkwardness that had been between them before was missing.
When they pulled up to Tim's apartment, Tim didn't move for a moment. Tony looked at him and saw him nod to himself.
"Thanks for the ride, Tony."
"No problem, Probie." He paused. "Get some sleep tonight, would ya?"
Tim smiled. It was stretched and thin but it was genuine. "I'll try."
"See you tomorrow."
"Night, Tony."