A/N: Sorry everyone! I've been so busy working on my last assignments and studying for my last final. But classes are now over so I should be finishing this up at least by Monday. Until then, here's a nice long chapter for you to hold you over. Enjoy!

Chapter Sixteen: Apologies

The next time Tim opened his eyes, he noticed that he was in a different room from the one he had previously been in. The walls were now a faded light blue, almost white, instead of the blinding white he had first seen. The room was darker, no longer frighteningly bright, but a calming darkness created by blinds closed during the day. A pale white curtain hung half surrounding his bed, blocking the door from view with most of the room. From what he could see through his single eye, he noticed his heart monitor on the left side of him, in the corner next to his bed, thin tubes connecting his hand and body to the machine. The pale white blinds, the same color as the curtain surrounding his bed, were surrounded by a soft halo of sunlight, peaking into the room through any opening it could find. A small wooden end table stood beneath the window, a plastic white pitcher resting on the surface next to a small plastic cup. Two wooden armchairs sat on either side of the table, the cushions looking like soft shadows against the dark wood.

It took Tim several moments to realize that his throat was empty, though it did feel as if he had swallowed a large cotton ball. The breathing tube seemed to have been removed. He timidly tested his airway, sighing in relief when cool air swam through to his lungs, pain free. The next moment caused a chain reaction; Tim quickly took in another breath and suddenly began coughing as the cool air scratched at his dry throat. The coughing began taking a painful toll on his chest, particularly around his ribs, as the coughs scraped against the walls of his parched esophagus. The longer he coughed, the more panic that surged through his body and the rapid beeping of the heart monitor only seemed to make matters worse as he fought for air.

"Easy, now. Timothy, listen to me." Dr. Hitsugaya commanded softly, seeming to appear by the side of his bed out of nowhere. He menuvered himself to the left side of Tim's bed so he would be in his line of sight. He reached over and grabbed the pitcher and poured some water into the small cup before lifting the top of Tim's bed forward, allowing him to sit up. "Try to relax, Timothy. Your throat should be pretty dry right now. Try to drink some water. That's it. Slowly now."

Tim slowly drank some of the water offered to him. His throat began to dampen until he was able to breathe normally and he gently pushed the cup away from his mouth, breathing heavily. The doctor placed the cup on the back on the end table, eying him wearily. "Are you alright, now?"

Tim cleared his throat as best as he could before answering. "Yes." He rasped his throat sore. He cleared his throat again and said in a clearer voice. "Yes. I'm okay now."

"Good." The doctor said. He stood up and sat on the edge of Tim's bed. "Alright, now I'm sure you realize you're in another room. You've been doing well enough that I thought it was about time we switch you to a regular room instead of making you stay in ICU. Plus, it will make visiting that much easier."

"Visitors?" Tim questioned, his brow creasing in worry. "They're coming?"

"Not if you don't want them to." The doctor reassured. "But they are worried about you. They want to see you. Don't you want to see your friends?"

Tim hesitated before answering. "I don't know." He said with a shrug. "I guess so. I-I don't know."

"You don't have to if you don't want to." Dr. Hitsugaya placed a comforting hand over Tim's, being careful not to jostle the IV. "But so far we've had three of your friends call the hospital and ask if they could see you yet. I can tell they're worried."

Tim looked down at the sheets. He didn't understand; why were the others bugging the hospital just to see him? Did they just want to yell at him and get it over with? Or did they actually care? Is Dr. Hitsugaya right; are they truly worried about him? It didn't seem possible with everything he's put them through. If anything, they should be furious at him for what they had to go through on his behalf. But they weren't; or at least that's what the doctor said. Was he right? Tim wanted to believe it; he wanted to believe that they truly did care and that they wanted to come visit him because they cared and not because they wanted to yell at him. Maybe he could risk a little hope just this once. Besides, if they are going to yell at him, then at least they'll do it sooner rather than later.

Tim looked up at the doctor, who sat patiently waiting for Tim to sort everything out in his head, and nodded slowly. "I think it will be okay." He said weakly, though because of exhaustion or fear, he wasn't sure.

Dr. Hitsugaya nodded with a kind smile and patted Tim's hand before standing up. "Well, why don't you get some more sleep while I call them and let them know you're up for visitors, hm? Although, I'm only allowing one in at a time. We don't want you to overexert yourself."

Tim nodded. "Yeah." He whispered, his eye already drooping shut. He hadn't realized how tired he was until the doctor had said so. Didn't he just wake up? Must be the antibiotics. Dr. Hitsugaya nodded before turning and walking around the bed and out the door, shutting it silently behind him as Tim slipped into slumber once more.

"He has every right to be angry with us." Abby said tearfully. Out of boredom, she had abandoned her lab in search of someone to talk to and ended up in autopsy as Ziva was explaining what the doctor had said about Tim to Ducky. She had a feeling Tim would be angry at them for not being able to help him when he had asked, and because they had failed, he became too angry and betrayed to want to talk to them. She looked at Ducky and Ziva. "I mean he was counting on us to help him and we let him down. Some friends we are."

"I do not think he is angry." Ziva said softly. She knew how this would look to everyone who had tried to help Tim. Tim refusing to have visitors would seem like he was angry at everyone who had tried to help him for the same reason that Abby had said. He was counting on them to help him and they had let him down. But that wasn't how she knew Tim was feeling. "I think he feels guilty."

"What does he feel guilty for?" Abby asked incredulously. "He asked for help-"

"Exactly." Ziva interrupted. "He would most likely feel that asking for help was his first mistake. The second would be that he was unable to keep Aaron from hurting anyone other than him. Our own guilt for being unable to protect him is making us believe that he is angry. Yet I have a feeling that us getting hurt for his sake is making him think that we are angry at him."

"A circle of guilt." Ducky said thoughtfully. "He feels guilt for endangering us and we feel guilty for being unable to protect him. At another time, this would seem almost laughable."

Abby smiled dispite the seriousness of the situation. "That's our Tim, always thinking of others before himself. So what do we do now?" she asked,wiping her eyes on the already ruined sleeves of her sweater. Since they didn't have a case today, she had switched her lab coat for her normal black Lolita sweater. "Can't we go visit him anyways?"

Ducky shook his head. "I'm afraid not. If the patient refuses visitors, there is nothing the doctors can do until the patient says otherwise."

Abby opened her mouth to argue but stopped when Ziva's cell phone rang. Ziva half stood from her seat on the stool and reached into her pocket to pull her phone out. "David." She answered brusquely. She paused to listen, nodding occasionally and then hung up. "That was Gibbs. Dr. Hitsugaya called just now. McGee has agreed to allow visitors but it will have to be one at a time. His body can't take the stress of more than that."

"Then, what are we waiting for?" Abby said happily, jumping up and down in excitement. "Let's go." Without saying another word, she raced out the door, passing a startled Jimmy on her way to the elevator.

Ziva and Ducky exchanged amused glances before following after her. "Come along, Mr. Palmer." Ducky said, hanging up his lab coat and shrugging on his tailcoat as he steered Jimmy back out the door. "We're on our way to visit young Timothy in the hospital. We can only see him one at a time but everyone is planning on going there now."

"Oh, that's great." Jimmy said, following them into the elevator. "I bet he's excited to see us."

Gibbs sat in the waiting room of Tim's new ward. He and Tony had headed to the hospital as soon as he had gotten the call, letting Ziva know what the doctor had said as they headed down to the parking lot. When they had arrived, they had gone straight to the ICU ward, only to be told that Tim had been moved to a normal room two floors up. So now they sat in the normal waiting room, anticipating the moment the doctor finished his exam of Tim in order to make sure he was truly up for visitors.

"How much longer?" Tony groaned, impatiently wheeling himself back and forth in front of Gibbs. "The wait is killing me."

"Patience, Dinozzo." Gibbs said absently. He stared at the coffee cup in his hands, not really seeing it as he too waited impatiently for the doctor's return.

Tony groaned but didn't say anything. After a few more minutes of waiting, Dr. Hitsugaya finally returned, a small smile playing at his lips when he spotted the obviously impatient Tony. "Gentlemen." He said, stopping in front of them.

Gibbs rose to his feet as Tony wheeled himself around to face him. "How is he?" Gibbs asked. "He alright?"

"He's fine, Agent Gibbs." Dr. Hitsugaya smiled kindly, reassuring Gibbs and Tony. "He's still asleep right now but one of you may see him anyways if you'd like."

Gibbs nodded and turned to Tony. He knew the guilt that had been eating at his agent the moment he had found Tim's body in his apartment. Though Ziva's scolding hadn't seemed to help much either. "Go."

Tony looked at him in confusion. "Boss?"

Gibbs walked behind the younger man and gently gave his chair a shove towards the doctor. "Go." He repeated. "Say what you need to. Let him know we're here."

Tony glanced at him for another moment before nodding, his jaw set. "Got it, Boss."

Gibbs watched as Dr. Hitsugaya led Tony down the hall towards Tim's room and then sat back down in his seat to wait his turn.

Tony stopped at Tim's door, the doctor pausing behind him a moment before bending down and whispering in his ear. "Whenever you're read." Then he straightened up and continued down the hall to his other patients. Tony waited in the hall for a few more minutes, unsure if he wanted to see Tim just yet. Truth be told, he was terrified of what he might see. Once again, his imagination ran away with him, imagining the worst possible scenario. Finally he took a deep breathe and pushed the door open before wheeling himself inside.

The blinds on the window were open, allowing sunlight to soak the room with its warmth and natural brightness. The natural light made the room seem much more inviting that any room in ICU would have. Tony wheeled himself into the room, pushed the door closed behind him and wheeled himself up to Tim's bedside. The sight before him caused a lump to for in his throat as his gaze drifted over his young partner. Tim lay on the hospital bed, tubes protruding from his skin towards the machine against the wall. Tony had a feeling that the absence of ventilator tubes was a good sign; it meant that he could now breathe on his own.

Tony glanced at the casts on his partner's legs, one on his left leg going from hip to a little past the knee and one on his right going from above the knee down to his foot, both legs propped up on stacks of pillows. His gaze traveled up to the cast on his left arm, extending from shoulder to wrist. Finally he looked into Tim's face, looking over the small bandages covering his broken nose and busted lip. He winced at the patch over Tim's right eye, remembering the doctor telling them that it had completely swelled shut. His other eye also looked pretty bad, a black bruise encircling the eye; obviously a black eye from the broken nose, as Tony remembered from his jock days in high school. For some reason, black eyes sometimes seemed to form on both eyes whenever the nose was broken.

Tony watched his sleeping friend, continuing to give Tim the once over, the guilt once again swelling inside him at the thought that this could have been avoided if he had just stayed with him that night. He never should have let him go on alone. That right there should have been the first warning bell in Tony's head, and realizing this made Tony turn away from the still form and place his head on his arm resting on the side of Tim's bed. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't they just leave Tim alone? Tim was the nicest person Tony had ever met, never holding a grudge very long, always there for his friends, never saying no to someone who needed his help, no matter how exhausted he was at the time. Tony knew that when Tim got angry, which was very rare, he could take care of himself, no problem. He knew Tim was capable of dishing out whatever was being dealt to him if he really wanted to. But why go after him? Why him?

Tony brought his head back up and nearly jumped out of his chair when he saw the single eye focused silently on him, fully aware though only partially opened. Getting his breathing under control and secretly glad the heart monitor wasn't connected to him, he plastered a smile on his face and leaned forward. "Geez, McGee. You could give a guy a heart attack like that. Warn me next time, will ya?"

Tim smiled slightly in amusement, though Tony could tell how difficult it was for him to make the effort. "Sorry, Tony." He whispered weakly. The bandage and stitches on his lower lip made it difficult for Tim to breathe or speak clearly and his lip hurt too much to make his smile any bigger.

Tony grinned at hearing his voice for the first time in so long and shrugged his shoulders. "Aw, don't worry about it. How you feeling?"

Tim's head turned further toward Tony but stopped when he winced in pain from the effort. "I can't… see you very well."

"Oh, right." Tony wheeled himself away from the bed and around to Tim's left side and uncovered eye, his back to the window. "Better?" Tim nodded, a bit confused at how Tony had been able to move without getting out of his seat. "So how you feeling?" Tony repeated.

Tim paused, trying to make a quick evaluation of how he felt. "Like a… mountain… fell on me." He whispered.

Tony laughed. "You look it, too. Still having trouble breathing?"

Tim nodded and then took a closer look at Tony, or more precisely, what he was sitting in. His eye widened a bit in surprise. "You're in a wheelchair." He said.

Tony nodded. "Yep. Just what I always wanted; a chair on the go. Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, seeing the pained look in his partner's eye. He had a feeling he knew what was wrong but he wanted to hear it from Tim.

"I'm sorry." Tim whispered mournfully. His eye shone with tears threatening to spill over. He took a shuddering breathe before continuing. "I'm so sorry, Tony."

"For what?" Tony asked, pretending confusion.

"You got hurt… because of me." Tim replied softly, his lower lip trembling slightly and his voice breaking. "It's all my fault. They were after me. I'm sorry."

Tony watched as the tears started to slide down from the corner of his friend's eye and disappear into the sheet of the pillow. Tony felt as though his heart was being wrenched apart inside him as he shook his head, fighting to keep his voice under control. "No, Tim. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I let you down. You asked us to help you and we didn't; we let you get hurt under our watch and that was unacceptable."

"I shouldn't have asked you for help." Tim said, the tears flowing freely now. Why was Tony apologizing? He did what he could but if Tim hadn't asked for help, none of this would have happened. "I knew… I was putting you… all in danger… b-by asking for help but I did it anyways. I was… being selfish… and I'm sorry. I'm s-s-so sorry." Tim couldn't keep from sobbing at the last word.

Tony looked away and blinked rapidly, trying desperately to keep a hold on the tears that threatened to shove their way over his lower eyelids and down his face. Tim shouldn't be apologizing. There was no way he was being selfish by asking for help. He was doing exactly what was expected of him; he was leaning on his teammates, just like he was supposed to. Why couldn't he see that? Tony took a few shuddering breaths and when he was sure his tears were under control, he looked back at Tim to see he had fallen back asleep. Seeing that Tim had fallen asleep before Tony could reassure him that it wasn't his fault seemed to be the final breach in his dam and the tears silently fell as he gently placed his hand over Tim's.

"It's not your fault, Tim." He whispered, leaning onto the bed and as close to Tim's ear as he could get without touching anything painful and reached out his free hand and gently brushed the tears from his young partner's face. His own tears slid down his face and dripped onto the white plaster-made cast on Tim's arm. "Don't you dare say it's your fault because it's not. We're your team; it's our job to look out for each other as well as our cases. That's what being a team is all about; looking after our own. And you are part of our team, Tim. You are. And don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

Tony sat silently watching his partner for another few minutes before reigning in his emotions and wiping his face dry with the back of his sleeve. Then he patted Tim's hand before wheeling himself around the bed and towards the door. Tony paused half way out the door and turned back to the sleeping figure on the bed. "You're part of our team always, Tim. Don't ever forget that." Then he turned and headed out the room, closing the door behind him.

Gibbs, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, and Palmer looked up as Tony rolled down the hallway to them, a haunted expression on his face that alarmed them into leaping to their feet and swarming his chair. "What happened?" Gibbs asked.

"Is he okay?" Abby asked desperately.

"What's wrong?" Ziva asked, clutching the handle bars of her crutches in anticipation.

Ducky and Palmer waited patiently for Tony to begin speaking. "He's okay. He…" Tony paused, unsure how to explain. "You were right, Ziva. He does blame himself. He thinks he was being selfish when he asked for help and he wouldn't stop apologizing. He wouldn't listen to me when I tried to tell him it wasn't his fault."

Gibbs sighed as the others uncomfortably shifted their gazes. "We knew he would." Gibbs said. "We knew he'd blame himself. All we can do is try to convince him otherwise."

"Can I see him now?" Abby asked.

"I guess you can but you might need to be quiet." Tony said. "He fell asleep before I left."

"Got it." Abby said and headed down the hall before pausing and turning around with a sheepish grin. "Um, which room is it?"

Tony chuckled and told her. "Got it." She repeated and continued down the hall to Tim's room. Twenty minutes later, she returned with a small sad smile. "Well, I talked to him for a bit even though he didn't wake up. Who wants to go next?"

Ziva stood up and limped her way down the hall with her crutches. She sat in Tim's room for several minutes, speaking to him while he slept, telling him how much his team cares for him and how none of them blamed him for their getting hurt. Finally she stood and kissed his forehead before leaving and returning to the waiting room. Ducky and Jimmy headed in afterwards, repeating most of what Abby and Ziva had told him before heading back into the waiting room themselves.

"I'm afraid Mr. Palmer and I must return to NCIS." Ducky said. "Come along, Mr. Palmer."

Gibbs watched the M.E. and his assistant head into the elevator before standing and heading down the hall to Tim's room. He entered to find Tim struggling to sit up. Quickly, he reached the bed and gently pressed Tim back onto the bed. "Hang on." He said and grabbed the remote and brought the top half of the bed up until Tim was half sitting.

Tim winced as the movement caused a pounding in his head and his back and upper torso to throb painfully. When the feelings passed, he refocused on his boss, who had walked around the bed to sit within his line of sight. "Boss?" he whispered.

"Yeah, McGee." Gibbs whispered back. He knew Tim was only whispering because he was physically too weak to go any louder but for some reason, Gibbs felt as though he should whisper as well. "I'm here. How you feeling?"

Tim decided to use the same analogy he had used when Tony had asked him the same question. "Like a mountain f-fell on me." He stuttered.

Gibbs grinned. "I can only guess, McGee." He said softly.

Tim looked down at the sheets uneasily as his boss watched him. When he could no longer take the uneasiness, he glanced up. "Boss, I know… you don't like apo-apologies but…"

"Wait, McGee." Gibbs interrupted. "Don't even try it. You have nothing to apologize for. Didn't you hear what the others have been saying to you?"

Tim looked at him, confused. "The others?" he asked. "What others?"

"Well, you were asleep at the time but the others came in one at a time after Tony." Gibbs explained. "They spoke to you and I think I can guess what they were saying after what Tony said."

Tim swallowed with difficulty. "W-what did he say?"

Gibbs gave him a hard look. "That you think this whole thing is your fault. And that you felt as if you were being selfish to ask for our help even though that's what you are supposed to do with your teammates. When you know for a fact that you can't do something alone, you need to ask for help. Your teammates were the ones you asked for help from and you should have. We look after our own, McGee. And you are our own. You're part of our team, which means you're part of our family." He inched forward a bit. "My family."

Tim looked back down at his sheets, a heavy blush creeping over his cheeks at his boss's words. He wasn't sure what to think about this. Did his boss just say that he was part of his family? Did his boss just say something sentimental?

Gibbs reached out and gently tapped the back of his youngest agnet's head. "You hear me, Tim?"

Tim looked up at his rarely used first name. "Yeah, I hear you, boss." He whispered.

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Now go back to sleep. You need to get back as much of your strength as you can so that we can get you out of this damn place."

Tim smiled and nodded his agreement as he started to feel sleep threatening to take him again. "Okay." He whispered and soon fell asleep once again.

Gibbs placed his hand on Tim's for a moment before standing and placing the chair back against the wall under the window. "None of this is your fault, Tim. And I'll be waiting for the day you return to our team. Until then…"

A/N: So how was that? I know it probably wasn't as long as I thought it would be but this story is just about over. Next chapter should be the last one. It's been a long ride and pretty fun, but all good things must come to an end. Let me know how I did. Thanks.