Chapter 7

'Synthia, you've never lied to me before. Don't start now. Just tell me what's wrong.'

'After all these years, Thom, I feel now more than ever, how much I hurt you with my stupid rebellion…' He was shocked at her confession. That was what has been bothering her all day? This particular day?

'We have discussed this in the past, Syn. If it hadn't happen we wouldn't have Tim and despite my feeling of betrayal back then, now I can't say I am grateful but I wouldn't change it. I only wish Tim was my son in blood as well; not that it would change anything. So, what brought this on?'

'I saw him… you saw him too…'

'I saw who?' Thomas asked with no understanding what his wife was talking about. His wife had apparently a problem talking clearly and that wasn't a common thing for her.

'The man that… Tim's father.' Oh no! Thomas finally got a clue about what Synthia was on about and instantly thought that he wasn't going to lose his son for some stranger. The same world rifting feeling that had rocked Synthia earlier had moved to him.

'Who's he?'

'Agent Gibbs.' Just as he thought the situation couldn't become any harder. Dear Lord, Tim already respected that man more than anyone else.

'Does he know?' Synthia's look travelled in the café for a while before settling on her husband's face.

'He suspects. He asked and I denied it. I don't think he believed me though… I don't know what to do, Thom…'

'Do you think he'll say the truth to Tim?'

'I don't know Thom, I really don't.' It wasn't that she knew Jethro all that well, was she now? Their relationship was a passionate and truly a caring one, but very short in duration for one to get to know the other. How could she know? Her husband hugged her offering his own quivering strength, trying to stop the tears.

'That's OK, sweetheart. We'll tell Tim the truth before Gibbs does.'

'What?' Synthia looked up at her husband as if he had suddenly grown a second head.

'It's our only option, Synthia. Our son deserves to know the truth. And he's going to listen to it from us not from Gibbs. I'm not going to lose Tim no matter what, and if we try to keep this a secret, one day we'll lose him. Is that what you want?' She didn't actually know what she wanted; she just wished they weren't at this situation. She wished Gibbs hadn't been Tim's Boss.

Thomas believed he had nothing to lose by telling the truth before Gibbs would. He had no doubt the NCIS Agent could learn about Tim's parentage ridiculously easily despite Synthia's lie and he couldn't stand the thought of being the one who lied to Tim in the first place. Everything was going to be alright. Or so he hoped.

Ducky and Jethro were sitting at the last's kitchen while the doctor was trying to absorb the given information. One was drinking soda and the other held a glass of whiskey. The older man still couldn't wrap around his mind that Tim was Jethro's son.

'You've never learnt Synthia was pregnant, then?'

'I hadn't even seen her again until this morning, Duck'

'Did you just today realize that may be you're Timothy's father?' Ducky couldn't understand and Jethro was too agitated to just sit and explain; instead he stared at the clear liquid in his glass for some seconds before answering.

'Ducky, until last summer I didn't even remember those days much less associate them with Tim. They just came suddenly to me one night in Mexico that Mc… Tim looked so much with Synthia. So when I returned here I tried to find everything I could about him. Did you know he was born pre maturely?' At Ducky's affirmative nod he continued his narration.' 'When I saw that I tried to dismiss the whole idea as impossible if not down right ridiculous…' He took a long sip of his drink. 'And this morning I asked Synthia, not the best of time, I know, but… anyway she denied it.'

'So you have nothing but your gut to go with. How do you know she's not telling the truth?'

'I do, Duck, I do.. That evening, after the shooting', he clarified. '…When my clothes were wet with Tim's blood,' he shuddered at the memory, '…That night, I called Tobias, I went to him and asked him to run a test in my and Tim's blood.' He saw Ducky reading between the lines and he knew the precise moment the Scot had put the pieces together. 'When you found us this morning, he had just told me the blood samples came from first degree male relatives. Unless Tim is my brother, then he's my son.'

'Ducky marvelled at the quietness his friend showed even though he knew the internal battle should leave him breathless. But, still the most important question remained unanswered.

'What are you going to do now, Jethro?'

'Drop a coin?' For the first time Ducky couldn't find something to say and he really didn't like his friend's bitterness. Either way it was a decision only Jethro could make.

'Whatever you decide, you'll have my full support. And despite everything, you, my friend, are a lucky man. You have a fine boy!'

'Thanks, Duck.' He couldn't say anything more. What was there to say?

Soon, after that, Ducky left Jethro alone and as time passed, the Agent knew sleep wasn't going to come, so he grabbed his keys and left some time after his friend had.

Under normal circumstances the nightly ride would have been for nothing but because, for one he was a Federal Agent and for two he was Gibbs, after midnight he found himself sitting next to Tim's bed watching the sweet, child-like features of the kid.

Tim looked so young and vulnerable and Gibbs felt guilt overflow him as he held himself responsible for Tim's current state. He reached his arm and took Tim's hand in his; holding the soft palm he wondered how it was when Tim was a baby. Were the fingers as lean and long as now? Were those expressive eyes blue when he first opened them? Did the boy know to swim? And if yes, was Thom the one who had taught him? How about riding a bike? In what age had he been bought his first bicycle? How old was he when he first walked, talked, kissed a girl, fell in love? Every little thing a parent knows about their child. And he had lost every each one that made that relationship precious and unique.

His mind travelled back at the day he first met Tim, so young. Really, he was so young he looked like a 6'1" kid dressed in his father's suit and that because of the latest discoveries would have been too big for said father, either one oft them. Jethro couldn't help but smile remembering Tony's expression the moment Tim told him about his tattoo and the older man wondered if Tim had actually done or was toying with his senior agent. And smiled once again, this time with Tim's expression when he had told him about Abby's coffin.

And suddenly he realized that yes, he had lost many years from his child's life but fate and life had brought Tim to him and he'd been damned if he left that second chance unexploited. He wasn't going to spend the rest of his life watching his son from afar or without him, no matter what.

Tim stirred in his sleep pain killers weakening and pain took him over once again; or maybe nightmares were hounding the boy's sleep. Either way Jethro gently squeezed the hand he was holding while his other hand went to Tim's brow touching the warm, soft skin giving as much comfort as possible.

'Sh, son. Everything's fine. Go back to sleep.' What ever was making the young man restless and nervous disappeared under Gibbs' whispered words. And Tim went back to sleep under Jethro's sleepless protection.

Tim didn't wake up for almost a couple of days after the conversation with Tony and when he actually did, he didn't feel rested at all. He had some vague memories of nightmares, soft whispering and a feeling of utter safety but he didn't remember anything specific about it.

Jethro stayed away from any member of his family all those days, while doing his work during the day, but spent all three nights next to his son like that first one watching him sleeping and healing.

A week after that Tim had the strength to talk for more than two minutes in the row. Two days before his release from the hospital, during one of his parents' visits they decided to talk to him. He was sitting in his bed eating yoghurt with honey and listening to Sarah ramblings about her day when Thomas interrupter her.

'Sarah? Can you leave us alone with Tim for a while?' Tim wondered what was going on and so did his sister.

'Why? What happened?'

'Nothing, sweetheart.' Synthia said. 'There's just something we need to discuss with Tim.' Seeing his sister leaving the room, turned his eyes to his parents waiting to see what was so important they couldn't share it with Sarah.

'Yes? What is it?' Thomas knew he had to be the one because Synthia just couldn't find the courage to say it. He sat next to Tim.

'Son, you know we love you more than anyone else. Both your mother and I.' Tim's face took that thinking expression of his and Thomas could see his brilliant mind working.

'Yes, Dad. Of course I know.'

'So, I think it's time to tell you something.' Tim smiled and once again he surprised his dad.

'Is it now that you tell me I'm not your son?'