Chapter 13

Consciousness returned slowly. It was definitely brighter than it had been. Had it really happened? He tensed a little as he heard someone in the room.

"Are you awake, McGee?"

"Boss?" McGee opened his eyes. It didn't help much. His eyes were still swollen making it hard to see.

"Who were you expecting?"

At the tone in his voice, Tim immediately curled in on himself. "N-no one, boss. I wasn't expecting anyone t-to b-be here."

Gibbs reached out and touched his shoulder. "I'm not mad at you, McGee."

"But I screwed up..." he sighed. "Just like Ziva said I would."

"McGee, that guy had you for nearly a week. You didn't give him everything he wanted, did you?"

"I-I don't remember. But, boss, I was trying to. I wanted to help him. It wasn't because I was strong that I didn't." Tim closed his eyes trying to block out the memories, and immediately opened them again. He didn't want to be in the dark. He settled for looking away from the blurry shape that was his boss. He couldn't figure out just why Gibbs was there at all. He had figured if there were any visitors, it would be Abby. No one else would be bothered.

"It doesn't matter, Tim. You did the best you could. No one can ask for more than that."

"How did you find me?"

"Tony had a hunch."

"Tony was looking for me?" The incredulity in his tone took Gibbs by surprise. Robertson had done a good job convincing him of what he had already half-believed.

"Of course he was. Everyone was looking for you."

Tim whispered, "Then, why didn't you find me?"

Gibbs couldn't answer. "I'll be right back."

"Okay." But as he watched Gibbs leave, he realized he'd be alone. He closed his eyes to block out the blurry images that kept turning into his captor. He felt a hand on his arm. "Don't hurt me," he whimpered.

"Don't worry, McGee. I wasn't going to."

Tim opened his eyes again. Of course, it would be Tony when he was acting like a little kid. "Hi, Tony." He tried to sound nonchalant. He failed miserably.

"How're ya doin'?"

"I've felt better."

There was an awkward pause. Tony had never been good at being comforting. McGee obviously could barely see through his black eyes. He was so loaded with painkillers than he probably wasn't feeling much. He squinted a little.

"How did you find me, Tony?" Tim asked suddenly.

"I had a hunch."

"That's what Gibbs said. How?"

"Well, Ziva and I were going to search a house and passed a bunch of abandoned warehouses. I thought it looked like a good place to look." McGee was still staring so Tony continued, "We decided to take twenty minutes to look through the warehouses and if there was nothing there, we'd continue on to the house. You were in the last one."

"The last one," he echoed. "What if you hadn't looked in it?"

Tony noticed his heart rate was increasing. He hurried to reassure him and said in a joking tone, "It's a good thing we did then, huh? I wouldn't have left the job half-done, McGee. I'm offended that you'd think that of me."

"I'm sorry, Tony," Tim said, yawning now. "I'm tired."

"Then, get to sleep. There's no reason to stay awake right now if you're tired. Think of it as a vacation."

"Right." Tony watched as McGee's eyes closed. Then, he stood and snuck out of the room. Gibbs was standing with the doctor.

"I'm not sure you understand the state of your agent. We weren't even sure we would be able to stop the internal bleeding. It was touch and go for far too long. He also had a concussion and some swelling on his brain. He's lucky he's not dead, Agent Gibbs."

"He still could be if we don't move him."

"This is a secure facility."

"Not secure enough. The guy who did this to Agent McGee is still out there. If he thinks McGee can identify him, he'll come after him again. Robertson has already killed three people."

"Agent McGee is not stable enough to be moved at this time. We'll need to wait at least another 24 hours before moving him. I'm sorry, Agent Gibbs, that's my final word on the matter."

"Fine." Gibbs turned and stalked toward Tony. "We don't leave McGee alone ever. Someone will be inside and outside his room at all times until I can convince that idiot to let us move him to a secure location. What's he doing right now?"

"Sleeping again."

"Good. I don't want him to know unless it's absolutely necessary. Even if he has to know that Robertson got away, don't tell him that Robertson was aiming at him, not at you and Ziva when you found him."

"Right, boss."

"I'll be in his room tonight. You be outside. Abby and Ziva can take over tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll tell them."

Gibbs walked back to McGee's room. Privately, Tony thought Gibbs was feeling the same way he was. There was a little guilt that the words they used to tease and berate McGee had been manipulated to torture and abuse his mind.

When Gibbs walked in the room, he noticed that McGee's eyes were wide open, at least as wide open as they could be as swollen as they were. McGee flinched away from him as he saw him approach.

"It's only me, McGee."

"Sorry, boss," Tim said, shamefacedly. "I can't see you very well right now."

"That's only because your eyes are swollen. They'll be back to normal soon enough."

"What day is it?"

"Saturday evening. Two days after we found you."

"That guy, he was working with Dobson and he has an FBI file."

"You told Abby that already."

"Abby was here?" Tim was confused.

"No, McGee," Gibbs answered patiently. "You said it to the webcam, remember?"

"It worked? I wasn't sure I'd actually done anything."

"We were watching almost the whole time you were gone."

Sounding more like himself, Tim muttered, "Oh, great." Again, he looked away from Gibbs. He didn't like looking at him. They sat in silence for awhile and Tim noticed that Gibbs was making no move to leave. Still looking away, he asked, "Boss?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you still here?"

"I finished my boat. I don't have much else to do right now."

"Boss, there's something wrong, isn't there."

Gibbs was impressed that McGee was thinking so clearly in spite of the painkillers and his injuries. "Yes, McGee. There's something wrong."

"What?" When Gibbs didn't answer, he persisted, "Please, boss. Not knowing will be worse."

"Okay, Robertson, the man who was holding you, got away."

McGee gave no reaction at first. He simply froze. He went pale, but he didn't move. However, this lack of reaction bothered Gibbs more than blind panic would have. Tim tried to speak, but his voice wouldn't work. He cleared his throat and tried again: "Is-is he c-coming after me again?" He mentally cursed the stammer that appeared to be taking over his speech.

"We don't know for sure."

"Boss."

"I mean it, McGee. We don't know. Robertson may be just laying low, but we don't know."

"I-I see." Tim tried to sit up, but even through the painkillers, he felt the sharp stab of pain through his broken ribs and arm. He winced.

Gibbs pushed him firmly back down. "Stay put, McGee. You won't help anything if you rip all your stitches out."

"Stitches?" Distracted, McGee began to feel his body.

"Yes, McGee. You had to have quite a few stitches as well as some surgery."

"Surgery?" He couldn't seem to do more than echo Gibbs' words.

"Yes, that's why I'm telling you to stay down. You'll be here for at least another day before we can move you to a more secure location. Just try to relax."

"I'm relaxed," he said, but he was wound tighter than a drum. Gibbs just smiled and sat back down in his chair. Tim realized now why he was there. Gibbs was his guard. That made him feel better and he did relax a fraction, enough to fall asleep again.

Tim woke in the middle of the night. The lights were off and he panicked. He sat up, ignoring the twinges of pain, and looked around wildly. Immediately, someone was by him. He was terrified and pulled away from the hands.

"McGee!"

"No, stay away! Don't touch me!"

"Tim, calm down! It's Gibbs."

Heedless of the embarrassment he'd no doubt feel later, Tim reached out blindly for Gibbs and held on to him as if he were a lifeline. He started crying again. "I-I thought–" The words stuck in his throat. "I thought I was back there."

Gibbs hugged him. "You're not, Tim. You're safe in the hospital. Don't worry." His voice was calm. He kept hold of Tim until his breathing slowed and the tears stopped. As soon as he was asleep again, Gibbs laid him back down on the bed. Then, he settled back in his chair. The door opened a fraction and then Tony stuck his head in.

"Everything alright, boss?" he whispered.

"Everything's fine."

"Okay. All's clear out here."

"Good."

There were no further disturbances in the night and Gibbs actually dozed a few times, an occurrence he'd never admit to anyone. When morning came around, Tim didn't stir. He slept like a log until nearly eleven. Abby and Ziva would be coming in at noon, and Gibbs wanted Tim to be awake to register the change. As if on cue, Tim groaned and shifted position a little bit. His eyes, when he opened them, were frightened. He still expected to be back in the warehouse. His gaze turned to Gibbs and Gibbs saw the inevitable embarrassment as Tim remembered what had happened during the night.

"Good morning, McGee. There'll be a shift change in an hour or so. Abby and Ziva will replace Tony and I. You may have other visitors as well, but they'll be on call. How are you feeling?" Gibbs kept his tone as brisk as usual and watched as the embarrassment faded slightly. He had no intention of reminding McGee of his nighttime terrors. He had enough problems here as it was.

"Uh, okay, I guess." He winced, giving lie to his words.

"How's your sight?"

"Better than yesterday, but still fuzzy. Does it look bad?"

"Of course it does, McGee. You have two black eyes. That never looks good."

"Right." He lapsed into silence. It was broken by the entrance of the doctor. McGee stiffened for a moment but relaxed as he looked at Gibbs and noticed no shift in his position.

"Good morning, Agent McGee. How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

Briskly efficient, the doctor checked his pulse, his stitches, his eyes and was out the door in twenty minutes promising another checkup later. By the time he left, Tim felt exhausted again. He sighed in relief as the door closed and nearly smiled at Gibbs before he remembered himself and looked away. Gibbs sighed softly. It had been hard enough in the past to get McGee to have confidence in himself. It looked like he had moved at least two steps backward, if not more. They sat in uncomfortable silence until Abby and Ziva showed up just after noon. Abby was effusive as usual.

"McGee! I'm so glad to see you." She hugged him and then apologized when he winced. "Sorry, I forgot."

"It's okay, Abby. I'm glad to see you, too." That at least was genuine. He saw Ziva behind Abby and said, more uncertainly, "Hey, Ziva."

"Hi, McGee. You look better than you did a couple of days ago."

"Thanks."

Never one to linger, Ziva said, "I'll be right outside if you need anything." She left, followed closely by Gibbs.

"How are you doing, Tim? I mean, really."

"Okay." He smiled mirthlessly. "Better than a couple of days ago."

Abby smiled more sincerely. "Everyone was so worried for you. Director Shephard let us focus solely on getting you back."

Tim didn't comment. His residual animosity for Tony, Ziva and even Director Shephard mingled in his mind with his recent experiences, leaving little room for belief in their concern. Abby continued talking at top speed the way she did when she was worried about something. It required no response and Tim was grateful both for that and for the background sound it gave. He paid only a little attention to Abby's words. Instead, he started going through what had happened in his mind. What had he seen in those files that helped him decode them? How had he known? What else was going on?

"McGee?" Abby waved her hand in front of Tim's vacant gaze. He jumped, startled.

"What? What?" he said a little breathlessly.

"Were you listening to me?" she asked indignantly.

"Not completely."

"Why not?"

"Well, it didn't seem to need my input, but it was nice to hear the sound of your voice," he smiled. After a moment of trying to look stern, Abby smiled too.

"You're lucky I like you, Tim. Otherwise, you'd be in trouble, injured or not."

"Lucky me."

The door opened again and Ducky came in, more hesitantly than Tim would have expected for a man who dealt with dead bodies all day. "Hello, Timothy. I hear you're on the mend."

"I would argue with that myself, but I suppose so. Come on in. Join the party," Tim said, his weak voice belying his jovial words.

The day passed relatively quickly for Tim who would doze off and wake as the mood took him to find either a conversation going on between Ducky and Abby or, more often than not, Ducky speaking randomly to no one in particular. Tim felt safe in their company. Sometimes when he woke up, Ziva was in the room instead of Abby, making him more uncomfortable, but generally it was Abby he saw. Even though they weren't dating anymore, he still had strong feelings for her and the fact that she had stayed with him meant a lot. Eventually, Ducky left saying that he had customers to attend to. Abby apologized a few times for monopolizing the conversations, but Tim told her that he'd rather just listen anyway. It was true. He didn't feel much like talking. In his mind, he was still trying to accept what had happened to him, not very successfully. Around eight that night, he felt asleep in earnest and didn't wake even when Gibbs returned to replace Abby. He had argued with the doctor about moving McGee, but had met continual roadblocks. He'd finally gotten the doctor to agree to release him in the morning. That still meant another long night. Oh well. Hopefully, this time McGee would stay asleep.