Ok, so there are some spoilers for the episode SQUALL in this story, and with the whole storyline involving McGee's father. I am, however, taking that story line and tweaking it a bit. We're going to assume that no one on the team knows that Admiral McGee is sick, not even Gibbs. With that in mind, read on and let me know what you think. TRIGGER WARNINGS. Depression, mentions of suicide. You've been warned.

...

Tony drove but hardly paid attention to the road in front of him. For the senior agent's part, he was slightly angry that Tim would want to run off on the team without warning. He'd always been happy working on the MCRT, right? Or did this have less to do with his job position and more to do with something else?

Several individual events from the past couple of months suddenly clicked into linear place. The whole stunt Tim had pulled in the woods, the fire, the constant look of exhaustion McGee was sporting these days, and now this idea to go running off on a secret operation…they were all connected, though DiNozzo wasn't sure why or how. The events of the day's excitement replayed in his thoughts. They'd all done their part to help, of course, but the way Tim had run back into the fire for those kids was above and beyond the call of duty. Not that such a thing was out of character for the team, especially since they all had emotional weak spots in the form of young children, but something was off. Maybe Tony was misremembering things, but it seemed to him that McGee had already turned and was running for the building before that woman screamed for help.

DiNozzo still wasn't sure why, but this was a pattern. The only things each occurrence had in common were the danger and the element of heroism. And Tim wasn't a glory hound. Plus, the pure physical burnout that McGee was clearly working to hide was not a symptom of some sort of savior-complex. So that meant that something else had happened to his partner to make the younger man go looking for near-death experiences.

The drive to McGee's apartment was a short one, so in his conflicted state Tony didn't get the chance to plan how he was going to approach the situation. He was not so much angry now as worried and, though he'd never admit or even acknowledge it, hurt. Tim was his brother and best friend and right now the only conclusions the senior agent could come up with were that either Tim wanted to move on to bigger and better things, or he was self destructive to the highest degree. Between the two unfortunate options, Tony hoped it was the first.

...

He tried to school his expression into something akin to casual, not willing to let McGee figure out what was wrong just yet. Still, it was difficult to keep his thoughts in check when Tim swung the door open to his apartment and said, "Please tell me you didn't pick a James Bond movie. No offense but we watch those every time."

He knew his friend was just joking, but he couldn't bring himself to come up with a retort. His cheeky smile was more of a grimace, the normally playful look in his eye was close to a glare as he studied his friend quietly. The junior agent noticed something was wrong. "What's wrong? I was just kidding about the Bond movies."

"No, I know, I was just thinking about today. The fire."

"Yeah, I was thinking about it too. At least no one got hurt," Tim said, opening the waiting box of pizza and helping himself to a slice before turning the box towards his friend.

"You and Gibbs could have gotten hurt," DiNozzo said as he took a piece, watching Tim's expression for any ticks. McGee sighed, thinking this was a repeat of that night in the hospital when his team had expressed dissent for his actions in the woods.

"Look Tony, I'm not sorry for doing it," McGee paraphrased his previous statement. "Those kids are alive and that's what matters."

"You know I'm not talking about that. But I noticed something. You ran towards the fire before that woman screamed, Tim."

McGee never flinched from his position, but in his mind he could suddenly feel himself getting backed into a corner and he wasn't sure why. "I knew there had to be more people in there."

"The firefighters were pulling up as you ran. They could have gotten everyone out in plenty of time."

"I couldn't just stand there and do nothing. I had a chance to be useful. I took it."

"Is that why you volunteered for that mission overseas? To be useful?" he snapped, accidentally playing his hand. Damn, if he was this rusty at subtle extraction of information, he probably needed the practice of an undercover mission himself.

Whatever argument McGee would have used to retort died on his lips and he put down his half-eaten pizza. "How did you know about that?"

"Vance got the files from Palmer while I was leaving. He asked if you were planning on transferring or something," DiNozzo said, a tone of hurt sneaking into his voice. "Is that what it's about? Do you not want to work here anymore?"

"No! I love working on the team, Tony. They needed someone with skills that I have. I'm not bragging when I say most NCIS agents don't have those kinds of computer skills. So yeah, actually, I took the job to be useful."

"You do realize a lot of people die on those missions, right?"

"It's always a possibility. But I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Like you were fine when you ran into the woods to lead those gunmen away from us. Or when you ran into a burning building to save some kids. Or every case when you run yourself into the ground for no reason? You're not fine, Tim. You look like hell, now that you bring it up."

"So my sleeping's been off the past couple weeks. I've dealt with worse," McGee said, choosing not to address the first half of that accusation.

"No, it's not that. I don't know why, but something's up with you. You're gonna burn out if you keep it up. Or worse."

He didn't respond, so Tony tried to appeal to the more sensitive side of his friend.

"Think about your family. Or what about Delilah? They wouldn't want you to do this to yourself."

This seemed to strike a nerve. Tim let out a sound that was supposed to be a skeptical laugh, but it was so devoid of humor and full of pain that it came out as more of a gasp.

"Delilah doesn't care, Tony. We broke up weeks ago."

The older man's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Jeez, why didn't you mention it?"

"What was I supposed to do, go into work and say, 'Good morning everyone. Guess what? I broke up with my girlfriend last night.' People break up all the time, I can deal with it on my own." His calm tone had melted away and Tim's voice filled with pain.

But you're not, Tony thought, although he refrained from saying such a thing out loud. Still, the thoughts hung in the air between them; McGee couldn't hear them but he'd known DiNozzo long enough to understand the silence.

"It's not because of Delilah, Tony. It's not what you think."

This was the closest he'd gotten McGee to admitting that something was wrong. Encouraged, the senior agent pushed against his friend's defenses a little more. "So what is it, then?"

Tim's brows knitted as he struggled with his next move. He didn't want to do this. This wasn't Tony's problem. It wasn't a problem at all, in his mind.

DiNozzo waited, seeing that McGee was thinking about what to say next. Unfortunately, an explanation did not follow, but instead a vehement, "It's nothing."

Any denial was, at this point, basically a lie, and the anger Tony had felt before began to resurface. The two men were so different in so many ways, but it showed most in times of conflict and stress- the more unhappy McGee became, the quieter he was. The more unhappy DiNozzo felt, the more he talked. Without a filter.

"Really? It's nothing?" he said, his voice a decibel or two higher than he meant it to be. "Because it sounds more like you have a death wish to me."

Cruel, yes, but it seemed to hit another sensitive point. McGee visibly flinched. In the dim lighting of his apartment, he had never looked so unhealthy. But though hurt by the accusation, Tim did not return his friend's anger.

"I'm not suicidal, Tony," he said softly.

The senior agent was too angry to hear the pleading in McGee's voice and he kept going.

"Then you just don't care about living, is that it? So you just hide behind the heroics because if someone gets saved then no one will notice if you don't try and save yourself."

Tim had never thought of it that way, even though it was very, very true. But he wouldn't try to use saving someone else to get himself killed; he just didn't worry about getting killed while he was saving someone else. This implication that he did so out of selfishness finally made him bristle. He didn't yell or even raise his voice, but his words now had sharpness and sarcasm that resonated loud and clear.

"Right, because who cares if a couple of kids die. It's all about me."

"You know that's not what I meant. But what happens if you do die? What happens to the team? Did you ever stop to think that if we lost you it would destroy us? Honestly McGee it would be even worse than losing Kate and I can't handle that again!"

Wait. Wait. This was supposed to be about McGee. This was about Tim's issues. Not his. But the silence that followed this declaration coupled with the look of shock on his partner's face let Tony know that he had shared too much.

It was the epitome of freudian slips. DiNozzo hadn't given it a thought before, but now that he'd said it the whole room was heavy with the silent realization between the two men: that Tony was terrified of losing anyone else in his life. People they cared about came and went in this job and it hurt sometimes, and the typical therapist would claim this was related to the fact that his father had always walked in and out of his life without warning. But Tony was a grownup and he could handle a little rejection now and then. It had more to do with the fact that too many people had died on this job; they didn't leave but were taken. Not like his father, but like his mother. And even Kate would probably acknowledge the fact that of course losing Tim would be harder on Tony. Kate had been a best friend, a confidant, and she'd kept him as mature as she was able to during the most cocky and immature years of his life. Losing her made him grow up fast and hardened his heart. But he'd known Tim for a decade now, and, albeit in different ways, they'd grown up together. McGee was not only his best friend, but like a brother. One that had started by fearing and looking up to DiNozzo. Now he was one of the best agents at NCIS and Tony was proud of him for it. Despite this progress, McGee was a constant, maybe the one thing Tony could count on staying the same. It might have been a little selfish, but he needed that.

DiNozzo trained his eyes on the corner of the room, over Tim's head in order to avoid eye contact. McGee, for his part, wasn't sure how to proceed. He felt it was his job to speak first, but what could he say to that? There was only one response that Tony wanted, and, with a tentative sigh, he gave it.

"You're right."

"What?"

"I said you're right. I…I'm not fine," McGee admitted, eyes on the floor. He couldn't bear to watch the inevitable expression that would appear on Tony's face when he said what he needed to. "I guess I haven't thought about my own life in a while. I…don't want to die, I just…living hasn't been all that great. I'm not trying to hide behind heroics, like you said. I really did want to save those kids."

"I didn't mean-"

"No I know, just, let me finish, okay? You were right. I ran into the fire before I knew about that family. I figured there had to be someone in there, but I was mostly running into the building because I needed to do something. I couldn't just stand there. And yeah, maybe something bad would have happened to me, but they can always get another agent to take my desk. That family couldn't just...replace their kids."

Cue the look of horror. The blood ran cold in Tony's veins when he realized what Tim was saying. He thought he was expendable. Easily replaced. He tried to speak again but McGee stopped him.

"I always knew that you guys would be upset if…something bad happened to me. That was never the problem. I didn't really think about how it might hurt you, though."

"It's not about me, Tim," DiNozzo finally got a word in. "But it did become about you when you lost whatever shreds of self-preservation you had. I'm not sure why or when it happened, but it did, McGee. You might not be suicidal but you don't give a damn about whatever happens to you and that's a problem too."

The junior agent looked up. His eyes were so full of emotion, emotion that he wasn't allowing himself to feel, that it hurt just to look into them.

"I know it is," he choked. "It's just…"

It's just that physical pain healed. Even if it didn't, it ended one way or another. But he'd been carrying the pain in his chest around for months and it never stopped, never got better. And he'd rather live with a few flesh wounds if it meant the he was actively doing good things, making some sort of difference. It numbed the real pain. Or rather, it made him forget that he was already numb. He didn't know- he'd refused himself a moment of genuine feeling for what felt like an eternity. He'd worked so hard to push down all of the thoughts, to will the pain away, that he was scared of having to face them.

"I've just felt numb, I guess. Not sad, not angry, just…tired. Of everything. It helps when I can save more people or get more killers behind bars, or help more on cases. Makes things worth while."

Tony couldn't believe his ears. "You were already doing that before." Tim appeared to disagree. "McGee, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. Not even yourself."

Tim tilted his head back ever so slightly and closed his eyes. "I can't help it."

Now for the big question. "What happened? What are you trying to distract yourself from?"

He really didn't want to do this, but it was too late to back out now. "It wasn't any one thing. I mean, nothing caused it, things just made it worse."

"Like breaking up with Delilah," Tony confirmed and his friend nodded. "What else?" When the younger man did not look like he was going to answer, DiNozzo prodded with a sigh and a weary, "Tim..." to get his friend talking.

"...Remember a few months back, when my dad was involved in our case?" Tim began, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Tony nodded. "Well, it turned out he was…is…sick. He's got cancer."

"Oh man," Tony said, his brow furrowing in sympathy. "I'm sorry Tim, I know how that feels. Is there any…?"

McGee shook his head. "No, he'd found out there was nothing they could do long before he told me. I wonder if he ever would have told me if we didn't see him then…"

"I'm sorry," Tony grimaced again.

"That's not why…I mean, it's awful, but my dad and I haven't been that close since I was…six, probably."

McGee tried to act blasé, but it was clear that it bothered him immensely, no matter how estranged he and his father were. Still, it was clear that even that wasn't all that was bothering him. He didn't continue the story on his own, so DiNozzo once again had to fish for information.

"How's Sarah taking all of this?"

When Tim flinched ever so slightly, Tony knew he'd hit the nerve he'd been looking for.

"She's not taking it…well," he said. "Sarah and our dad were always close. She wants to make him try treatment anyway, but he doesn't want it. He made it clear he doesn't. I told her I would make sure he was comfortable and taken care of…for the rest of….for as long as he needed."

"You're paying for it all?" DiNozzo asked and McGee nodded.

"Turns out after the divorce, our mom got most of their shared savings….and it's not like you get paid that much in the Navy. Even if you are an admiral. It's not a problem. It's the least I can do," Tim shrugged, swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing back the tears that had gathered in his eyes. "But Sarah thinks that since I'm paying for…hospice…that I should be paying for treatment. And I would-" he said quickly. "But my dad told us over and over that he'd rather…die the way he wants to."

"Where is Sarah now?"

Another shrug. "She transferred to Stanford a year ago. She comes back and forth as much as she can, but she has school. She's not really speaking to me right now."

Tony's frown broke into a look of sadness. Tim loved his sister, at one time he was willing to put his career on the line for her. Surely her anger at her brother was displaced stress- DiNozzo was a master at displacement- but it was hurting McGee.

He was almost afraid to ask…"What about your mom?"

"Their divorce was really bad, so she wants nothing to do with him. And I don't want to put her in between me and Sarah."

"What about your dad?"

"He's doing…ok, I guess. He's got the best home nurses in the area, but he's still working. During the day he can usually work up the strength to get into work and sit behind his desk. I can tell he just wants things to be normal for as long as they can be. He's still got a few months left," Tim finished with a fresh wave of sadness washing over him.

DiNozzo needed a stiff drink, and he felt that McGee probably did too. Still, he didn't move, focusing entirely on his pain-filled friend.

"Do you get to see him at all?" Tony asked, hoping his partner would have that at the very least.

"Sometimes," Tim said with another small, sharp intake of breath. "He doesn't really want me to see him…like that."

Though he added the last two words, DiNozzo could tell that McGee's father had pushed his son away, even now. Whether it be from pride (not wanting his son to see him in that condition) or something else, it made Tony's face heat up in poorly contained rage.

"Why have you been running yourself down at work, then?" the senior agent asked, his voice full of pity. "You know Gibbs would have given you time off if you told him what was going on-"

"I don't want time off," Tim said fiercely. "I need to be useful. I'm not being useful to anyone else right now, it's pretty damn clear!"

Another beat of silence. Another revelation. Another look of horror on Tony's face when he realized that someone, either Sarah or their father, must have told Tim he was "not useful," given the way he threw out the word now, as if it were something he'd been carrying on his shoulders for months- which was indeed the case.

Small pinpricks went up and down Tony's back. Finally, he could see the whole problem. Delilah and Tim break up, his dying father still refuses to really accept him, his sister blames McGee and his mother refuses to get in between them. He'd lost his whole family, it seemed, in the course of a few months. And now McGee had to deal with not only all of this, but these feelings of self-doubt that he'd apparently been struggling with for far too long. Feelings that his father had more than affirmed even while fighting cancer. Tony wouldn't wish the illness on anyone, but it angered him that Admiral McGee couldn't muster up some pride in his son even while Tim stepped forward to help support him. Depression had wrapped its viselike grip around his friend, and now Tim didn't have any self worth or sense of self preservation.

"Why didn't you tell us, McGee?" DiNozzo asked, though he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

Another gasping, incredulous "laugh" escaped Tim's lips. "It was my problem to deal with. It's not like you guys could have helped, anyway."

He didn't say it with a hint of malice, because it was true. Money was not really the main concern in Tim's story, and Team Gibbs did not possess the cure for cancer. Or for family dysfunction. In fact, they were the physical embodiment of family dysfunction. And McGee was never the type to reach out when he needed emotional support. Either you had to reach out to him, or he would suffocate in his own despair. After knowing his friend for ten years, Tony understood that much. McGee didn't deal with stressful things the way anyone else on the team did. Ziva exercised and practiced with her weaponry skills until she felt better. Gibbs retreated into his basement and drank and carved wood until his hands were even more callused and his thoughts were soaked in bourbon. Tony became sullen and bitter but spoke even more frequently, lashing out, taking his feelings out on the nearest possible victim. And they all ended up in Gibbs' basement. Except for McGee, the most introverted of the group, who took time to mull things over on his own. He'd been raised by a man who despised anything that could possibly be interpreted as weakness, and it showed even after all these years on the team. But that wasn't the point. The point was that while everyone else exerted the negativity, Tim internalized it. He felt every case, every victim, and while that was sometimes a good thing, he needed an outlet in order to expel these repressed emotions. But they'd been working on miserable case after miserable case, and paired with these new revelations….well, it was no wonder it all had caught up with McGee. It would have been enough to send any of them into a tailspin. And like Tim had said: it wasn't any one of those things. It was everything. It had been a long time coming, but he hadn't expected it, hadn't foreseen it, and it ran him over full-force.

Worst of all, Tony had missed it.

His best friend and younger brother had been drowning in his own mind for weeks, no- months, and none of them realized. The signs were so stupidly obvious and they'd paid no attention. It had taken multiple near-death experiences before anyone had noticed, and McGee had almost been killed in the meantime. There was no excuse, and Tony was ravaged with guilt.

Surprisingly, Tim put together the last piece of the story without prompting. "I volunteered for the task force to get away for a while. Like a vacation, but one that would keep me busy."

"Keep you busy…" DiNozzo echoed. "You mean, keep you worth your spot on the team. Keep you useful." McGee said nothing, but his expression gave it away that, yes, that was exactly what he'd been thinking.

"Tim, you- you need help. You need to stop running away from this. Your luck's going to run out and sooner or later you're not gonna make it out of whatever stunt you try to pull."

McGee let out a ragged breath. If possible he looked even worse than he had minutes before and DiNozzo started to worry that he might pass out. But even though he did feel terrible physically, Tim's rapidly-worsening appearance was due to the turmoil under the surface. Tony's words were cracking his reserve but he didn't want to deal with whatever came next, so he struggled. Still, saner minds prevailed, and the sad, somewhat scared look on the senior agent's face made him feel guilty.

"It sounds like you need some help, too," he said, and Tony's eyebrows raised. He'd hoped that Tim would forget the little slip-up he'd had about losing other people.

"Probably. And I promise you I'll talk to Ducky or Kate's sister or something. But you're the one I'm worried about right now, Tim. I didn't run into a burning building or sign up for a suicide mission today. You did both."

Dammit. This hurt more than he could have guessed. McGee's chest heaved ever so slightly- a silent, broken sob. His eyes closed to prevent the impending tears from spilling over.

"I'm sorry, Tony. I didn't…"

He had to stop or he'd start crying for sure. The dam was breaking and he hung his head, attempting to still the sobs that wracked his body. Tony went over to his friend and pulled him in for a brief hug. He'd only ever genuinely done it once before, during their little team group-hug after Mike Franks' death. But this was different, though. Less awkward. More painful, but with the absence of Ziva and Abby, there were far less tears.

"No, I'm sorry, McGee," he said, stepping back. "You have nothing to apologize for."