Chapter 14
Three weeks later...
"Shalom means peace, you know," Tim said softly. Those listening to him speak saw the dullness in his eyes as he spoke.
"It is used for hello, for good-bye, but it means peace." He lifted his dull eyes to the devastation behind the crowd, memories of the last month coming thick and fast. The members of the audience may as well not have been there.
"Peace is what we strive for. It is what we want."
...Michelle, opening her eyes for the first time, unable to speak or move. Her silent tears as she remembers Jimmy's last moments and receives the ring he had been trying to give to her. She now wears it as a way to keep her trying to get back her life...
"As members of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, we find those who have disturbed or destroyed peace." He shifted his gaze to the members of the other agencies who had come to show solidarity. "As law enforcement, as citizens of the United States of America...as human beings, we work to preserve peace for those in need of it, for the tired, the poor, the sick."
...Sitting with Abby day after day, while the doctors insisted that she would wake up. She didn't wake up...
"Peace, as Dr. Mallard told me...in a very long discussion," here Tim's eyes brightened briefly as he smiled and a wave of soft laughter spread across the audience, "comes from the Latin word pax or pacem. It has had many different shades of meaning since it was first attested in the 12th century."
...Funerals. So many of them that it seems impossible to count them all. Saying good-bye to Jenny, seeing what Ziva would have left to her (a book in French with messages written in Arabic and in Hebrew). Saying good-bye...
"From the absence of war to tranquility to happiness to simple quiet, peace has been in the minds of many. And yet, in this world, peace is hard to find, and harder to hold onto."
...Saying good-bye to Jimmy, laughing sad tears at the Scrabble board Ziva had left for him. They play Scrabble to remember both of them...they play in Michelle's room, although she can't participate. She can only watch...
"We lived secure in our peace here. Even with all the precautions, the day-to-day hassles, we felt safe in our work, secure in knowing that we were, in our own way, trying to make the world a better place, and succeeding to some degree."
...Realizing how little they all knew Cynthia. Her funeral is full of relatives. The eulogies speak of her kindness, her selfless service. It is a part of her they hadn't even realized they didn't know...
"A man who has known more of loss than I hope I ever will told me that we cannot change people. People must change themselves. Those who wrought the destruction you all see behind you..." There was a shifting as everyone looked back to see the ruins of NCIS, still in the process of being cleared out. "...they were trying to make change through force, through fear. Wiser men than myself have seen through the intent to the future that lies ahead."
...Nights of nightmares, days of grief. Day by painful day. He knows that someday will see a lessening of it...but not yet. Still, he has to face it...
Tim looked at Tony sitting beside Gibbs and Ducky on the front row. There was a wheelchair beside him. He had actually graduated to using a walker for short jaunts, i.e. to the bathroom and back, but he had refused to use a walker in public. He was living at Gibbs' house until he could handle stairs again.
"And there is a future. All of us here, whether we were in the building, outside it, or miles away, we are all survivors...because we must survive the..." Tim's control over his tears was slipping and now his eyes glistened as the tears threatened to fall. "...the loss. The loss of those we knew. The loss of happiness, of security, of tranquillity...the loss of peace in all its forms. We must struggle through the chaos."
...Long days spent sitting alone, just remembering. Wondering how the sun can bear to shine so gloriously at a time like this. Sometimes, he can even smile in recollection...
"...but we can do it. Today, one month after the bombing that killed so many of our friends...friends and colleagues, we acknowledge the loss and the need to go on. We show that even through the pain we can still seek for the peace that will preserve us." The tears started to fall, and Tim couldn't read his notes anymore. They were just a blur.
...Spending time helping with the cleanup in the places where the trained crews can afford to allow it. Promising Tony that he will listen to him play the piano...
For a few seconds, he simply stood at the podium, breathing and trying to reclaim control over his emotions. Then, a hand on his shoulder gave him the strength to blink away the tears and go on.
"When the pain has ebbed, there will be a temptation for anger, for revenge...but if we stand for anything, we must stand for justice...for peace. We cannot vent our despair and anger on those who do not deserve it..." Here, Tim looked tearily at the families of the men who had planted the bombs. "...and we cannot take the law into our own hands. What we must do is...is..." The words blurred again and a strong voice, gruff with its own emotion continued Tim's words.
"...what we must do is rebuild. Rebuild our lives. Rebuild our hearts. Rebuild the symbol of who we are. We must rebuild NCIS, remembering our dead and letting their lives continue to mean something by struggling to prevent the kind of pain and loss we have felt. We must try to keep others from feeling what we have felt here."
Tim took a deep breath and put his hand on the hand on his shoulder, signaling his intention to continue.
"Those of us who spent our days in the building which was destroyed feel as though we have lost a home...and family. Some things we cannot bring back, but we can bring back our lives and we can, with time, go back to doing our jobs, fulfilling the mission of NCIS: to prevent terrorism, protect secrets and reduce crime. As Acting Director Vance reads out the names of those who died, I hope you will remember them all and that you will remember the sacrifice they made...and use that sacrifice to help instead of hinder your healing." Wiping his eyes, Tim looked over and nodded to Vance who nodded back and stood as Tim, with Gibbs at his side, walked off the platform and sat with the other surviving members of NCIS Headquarters. They'd all been temporarily assigned to other locations, but many of them had already expressed their intention to return when the new building was finished.
Vance stood at the microphone, just to the side of a scrolling list of names, sixty-one in all. He read in a quiet voice that nonetheless carried to the back of the group.
"Robert Lovitz...Geraldine Weaver...Lara Hannah Miller...Adam Saunders...James Tyson Palmer...Jennifer Shephard...Cynthia Sumner...Jonathan Latrell...Lois Dearing...Nicholette Jardine..."
The names went on and on, but Tim knew them all already. He had found the list of casualties days before and he knew. When the memorial ended, Tim only wanted to leave...as did most of the others who had been there, but they had to endure the condolences, the compliments, all the things that couldn't help but were kindly meant.
Finally, people started to leave, slowly trickling away from the scene of grief and sadness. Somehow, Tim ended up being among those who stayed until the very end, along with Ducky, Gibbs and Tony. Vance shook the hands of some nameless important people and slowly crossed the stage to where they were sitting.
"Agent McGee."
"Yes, Director?"
"Did you believe what you said?"
Tim felt tired and couldn't muster up the energy to feel anything at the moment. Ducky was sitting just behind him and Tim could feel him shift.
"Which part?"
Vance smiled. "It depends?"
"Yes. If you're asking about the etymology of the word peace, then, yes, I do believe it. If you're asking about the part where I said we have a future...I don't know if we do, but I'm trying to believe it...and if I can help others believe, so much the better."
"It was well done, Agent McGee," Vance said kindly. "You made even me believe it's possible to rebuild. I have no doubt that you gave hope to others as well." Then, he left the four men alone.
"You were right about all that, you know, McGee," Tony said as he shuffled himself into his wheelchair. Everyone knew better than to offer to help. "All that stuff about rebuilding and not getting revenge. You're right." He settled himself in the chair and then had to suffer through being pushed back to the cars. He wasn't strong enough to push himself around yet.
"I know, Tony," Tim said. "I wish they hadn't asked me to speak."
"Why not?"
Tim looked away from everyone to the building. "Because these kinds of things shouldn't happen until the story is over...but the story doesn't feel over. It can't be over, not yet."
"Because of Abby?" Gibbs asked.
"No. Not because of Abby," Tim said, although his mouth twisted ominously. Then, he sighed. "You know what? You go. I need to stay here for a little while."
"We'll wait, Probie," Tony said.
"No, Tony. I need you to go...and I need to stay...just for a while."
They all looked at him worriedly.
"I'll be back."
Still skeptical, they didn't move. This Tim was functioning better than the Tim of a month ago, but it was still a matter of functioning, not of living.
"I promise," Tim said.
Finally, Gibbs nodded and gestured to Tony and Ducky to get in the car. Tim had taken his own car. Then, they drove away and Tim was alone on the Yard...at least, this part of it. Slowly, Tim walked across the park to the large cannon that had been repaired and replaced. The park had been easy to fix. Some of the items were damaged, but they had been restored. The trees had been replaced, although the saplings would take time to grow. The park would be back to normal long before any of the property around it. Leaning on the cannon, Tim looked at the place where headquarters had been. The crews had begun trucking out the rubble but just getting the area ready for rebuilding would take months.
The sight was still too painful and Tim turned around, leaning against the cannon, he slid to the ground in much the same fashion as he had that first day. How long he sat there, he didn't know.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
A hand on his shoulder.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"You shouldn't be alone here, Tim. I left you alone once and it was wrong. I won't do it again."
Tim didn't shift his gaze, but softly, quietly, with no fanfare, he began to cry...silent tears, as Gibbs sat beside him...and didn't leave.