Chapter 18

Tim stood outside the door to Abby's room. He could hear her chattering away. Part of her forced cheerfulness was due to the fact that she didn't want to talk about the serious stuff yet. She hadn't had the courage to look at herself and see just how much damage had been done and, except for that first day, she hadn't spoken much about the people who had died. They all had their coping mechanisms. Abby's was to act like she was happy. Tony's was to make jokes to deflect serious conversation. Gibbs' was to say nothing. Ducky's was generally to tell a long story, but that mechanism hadn't been seen much. Tim's own mechanism was to cut himself off and focus on something else...only this time, his mind seemed to have jammed up the gears and he couldn't do that. Would he say all that once he opened the door? No. He'd be lucky if he could get out what he had to say at all, but it was important for them to hear it from him first, not from Vance.

That much decided, Tim pushed open the door.

"...and so I think I'll put in a few requests. I mean, if they're going to completely rebuild the place, I should be able to get some new equipment...and I want them to repaint the walls orange because...well, it makes the place more cheery." Abby looked back at the now-open door. She faltered for a moment. They hadn't talked much since she had come out of her coma. It was hard to pretend to be happy when the person sitting across from you looked ready to burst into tears. "Hey, Tim. Where have you been? We were just talking about sending out a search party."

Tim tried to smile, but it was hard under the pressure of the gazes from everyone else.

"I was...talking to Director Vance," he said.

Suddenly, all the life seemed sucked from the room and Tim almost couldn't make himself continue.

"About what, Timothy?" Ducky asked. Tim looked at him and saw his understanding smile. Ducky knew what he was going to say.

"I just thought you should know. I'm going to Glynco...in Georgia." No one spoke but Tim felt as though he needed to explain more...which he did. "It's not permanent, just for a few months. They need a temporary instructor in computer forensics and Director Vance recommended me. So...I'll...be moving down there for a few...months." Tim didn't know what else to say; so he waited for someone else to do the talking.

"When?" Abby asked, no longer smiling. Tim hated that he'd wiped the smile from her face.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm just going to pack up my stuff, make some arrangements with my landlord and then, I'll head down."

"You will be coming back, right?" Abby asked.

Tim tried to smile. "Yes. I will. It's only a temporary assignment."

Gibbs and Tony hadn't spoken. Gibbs made eye contact for a few seconds and Tim saw him understand, but where Ducky smiled encouragingly, Gibbs only looked resigned. Tony wouldn't look at Tim at all, and that hurt. Still, it was done.

"Do you need any help packing, Timothy?" Ducky asked.

Tim shook his head. "No. I don't have much I'll be taking, just clothes, my computer...nothing much else. It's only for three months. They're arranging some temporary housing for me; so I won't need anything besides clothes."

An awkward silence fell. Tim knew that Abby didn't understand why he was leaving, and it was hard knowing that he didn't feel he could explain it to her, but he couldn't tell anyone the truth. Ducky and Gibbs seemed to have an inkling, but not even they really knew. It must just seem like he was running away again, like he was showing his weakness...and leaving them alone. Maybe that was the truth...he didn't know for sure.

"I...I'm going to go and visit Michelle...I figured she'd want to know, too." Tim lost his words again. He didn't know what to do, what to say. "I'll...see you all before I go."

Abby had fully recovered from the shock. "You'd better, Tim. Otherwise, I'll have to hunt you down...and my doctors wouldn't look to kindly on that, I don't think." She grinned as if it was a silly restriction that she couldn't yet go running after wayward friends.

Tim tried to smile as well. He'd have to talk to her, not to tell her everything, just to really talk to her. He didn't want to leave and have their relationship feeling so forced.

"I promise, Abby. I'll see you all later." Tim turned around and walked out.

Gibbs followed him and Tim had to turn around.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Is this necessary?"

"Yes, it is."

"Okay. Just make sure you come back."

"I will." Tim continued on his way, knowing that no one else would follow. That meant that he could walk out of the hospital, walk to his car and sit down and cry without any witnesses. He wished there was another way, but there wasn't. No one could understand, but he hoped they'd forgive him.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"You're leaving?" Michelle asked, her words clearer, but her voice still a bit slurred.

"Not forever, just for a few months," Tim said. He was sitting beside her bed. He only had a few more minutes before she was due for physical therapy.

"Why?"

"It's...something I need to do."

"You're coming back?"

"Yes," Tim answered. "I'm taking the place of a woman who's taking her maternity leave. It's only temporary."

Michelle looked at him carefully for a long time. Her gaze was disconcerting. It rivaled Gibbs', the way he seemed to peel back all the layers.

"You need this?" she asked finally.

"Yes. I do, Michelle. I really do."

"Then, you had better come back."

"I will."

She smiled and then held out her hand. She had insisted on shaking his hand every time he came by with the idea that maybe he would see an improvement in her grip.

"I'll arm wrestle you when you get back."

Tim finally gave a real smile and nodded. "I'll look forward to it."

"Bye, Tim." She was solemn now. Although she didn't know his reasons, she knew it was necessary. That was all she knew.

Tim nodded and walked out.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

That night, Tim was looking around his apartment, trying to figure out what else he'd need. He had packed all his old textbooks, some clothes, his computer. There was very little in his fridge since he spent as little time in his apartment as he could. Mostly, he slept here...and some nights, not even that.

There was a sound...rather like a walker being thrown against his door and it made him jump.

"Tony?"

"McGee, open up! We need to talk!"

Tim gulped. Tony sounded as angry as he had feared he would be. With a deep sigh, Tim walked to the door and opened it, but didn't stand aside to let Tony in.

"What, Tony?"

"Why are you leaving?"

"It's just something I need to do, Tony. Just leave it at that."

"No, McGee. I can't." Tony said. "I can't because we've spent the last month talking about how important it is for us to get through this as a team, not alone...and now, you're just throwing all that away. Abby hasn't even been awake for a week! How could you just leave her? How can you leave us all here?"

"I have to, Tony!" Tim said, desperate to keep his secret. "I just have to. Can't you trust that I know what I'm talking about?"

"I can't, McGee...because you haven't been showing your usual brainiac self. I need to know why...and I'm not leaving until I do. I don't care if Ducky has to sit down in his car all night long." He smiled a little at his last words, but Tim did not.

His shoulders slumped in defeat and he moved aside so that Tony could come in. Then, he walked, not speaking, across the room, and into his bedroom. He heard Tony thumping along behind him. The walker was becoming less and less of a necessity. He'd graduate to crutches soon enough. Tim bypassed anything in the bedroom and went into the bathroom. There, he picked up a piece of paper and a straight razor. Then, he walked back and met Tony halfway across the bedroom. He held out the items and didn't say a word...Tony could not remain silent once he'd read the paper.

"Slitting your wrists? McGee...Tim...where did you get this?"

Tim's eyes filled with tears but he smiled ironically. "It's the information age. You can find anything on the internet. You just have to put in the right search terms."

"When?"

"Two weeks ago."

"You...you were–?"

Tim stared at his feet, ashamed once more. "I searched, found the instructions and followed them. I bought a straight razor and filled the tub. I did everything...and then, I...I sat in the bathroom all night long wondering why I couldn't go through with it." He laughed. "I couldn't...I couldn't do it."

"Tim..."

Tim looked up, but he didn't meet Tony's gaze. Instead, he looked at the bag packed on his bed. "Tony, I told you that being here was killing me. I wasn't kidding. I wasn't trying to be melodramatic. It really is killing me and I can't..." He held out his hand for the page and the razor. Tony didn't give them back. "...I can't think of anything else to do. I have to go!" He looked at Tony, his hand still stretched out for the evidence of how bad it really was. "Either I have to leave...or I have to die. There's nothing else."

"So...that day...on the Yard."

Tim shook his head. "No. Not then. The Yard's seen enough death. It doesn't need another one."

"What about us, Tim? Haven't we?"

Tim closed his eyes and dropped his head again. "I know. It's the coward's way out...but I'm not strong enough to get through it. I don't know why. I don't know what it is in me that won't let this go! I just know that I can't, not while I'm h-here, not when I have to...when I know that..." He began to cry in earnest. "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm sorry that I can't stay. I'm sorry that I'm so weak, that I can't get past it, that I–"

Tim broke off and felt Tony pull him into a hug.

"No, Tim. I'm sorry. You're not weak. I shouldn't have accused you like that. Ducky told me that you might need something like this. I just didn't realize. I'm sorry."

"I didn't want to leave you all alone, but...if I stay I will anyway."

"We won't be alone, Probie," Tony said and then laughed. "This is going to be the Hallmark movie moment, but I'll say it anyway. We'll have each other."

Tim laughed. "You watch Hallmark, Tony?" he asked.

"Don't tell anyone because I'll only deny it." He pulled back and looked Tim in the eye...once he got Tim to look at him again. "You need to go?"

Tim nodded. "If anything will help, this is it."

"Then, go. We'll all still be here. I'll be off this stupid walker; Abby'll be turning cartwheels again. ...but you had better still talk to us, McGee. Just because you're going to be in Georgia doesn't mean that you can cut yourself off."

"I won't. I promise."

Tony waved the straight edge and the paper. "And you won't use these?"

Tim shook his head.

"Good, because I'd have to kill you if you did."

Tim smiled again. "Thanks, Tony. Don't tell them, please."

Tony shook his head. "I can't hide this from them. They'll need to know...if they don't already. Gibbs knows everything and Ducky's way too perceptive for his own good."

"They almost know...but not quite."

"We're still a team, McGee...and you're still part of it...and the idea that we all need each other to get through this still applies. I can't pretend that I don't know, not when it comes up in conversation...and believe me, it will. Don't ask me to lie."

Tim stared at him for a few seconds and then nodded slowly. "Okay. I won't."

"Thanks."

"Thanks for...understanding, Tony."

"I don't understand, McGee...but I'm accepting that I don't and I'm just trying to help."

"You are."

"Good. Now, I'll let you finish packing. I really did leave Ducky down in his car."

Tim smiled in response and walked with Tony to the door.

"Will you be running when I get back?"

"If I can make them let me!"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Tony."

"Right. Good night, McGee."

"Good night, Tony."

Tim closed the door, walked to his room and sank down onto the bed. The razor and the paper were there. He looked at them for a moment and then threw them both in the trash. He pulled the Star of David out of his pocket and looked at it.

"I'll try to be stronger, Ziva. Maybe I can make it this time."

He finished packing and went to bed.