Sitting bolt upright in the bed as the beginnings of dawn started to creep into the room, Tim swooned as the raging headache hit him with its full force. Wincing, he looked around his surroundings in confusion.
This was he and Tony's room at Gibbs' place.
What was he doing at his boss' house?
Why did he feel like there was an international tap dancing competition going on inside his head?
Glancing over at the other single bed in the room, he was further confused when he saw Tony occupying it, fast asleep, his gentle snores radiating throughout their room. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he rested his aching head on them, and tried his best to think.
His gaze wandered to a tall glass of water and two painkillers on his nightstand.
Not even caring how it got there, he gratefully fired the two pills into his mouth and downed the entire glass of water in one noisy gulp.
Instantly feeling a bit better for quenching his thirst, he resumed his silent thinking.
Downstairs, Gibbs, who had long since risen, was also thinking.
Thinking hard.
He'd had cause to discipline his people for a vast array of transgressions throughout the years. Drinking when they shouldn't, drinking too much when they shouldn't, putting themselves in danger, going out of contact, bad attitudes…you name it, they'd done it.
He therefore knew how to deal with all of these things with his four.
He was a man who valued experience, and he relied upon that experience to get him through the difficult task of holding any of his four to account.
Until now that is…
He dropped his head into his hands and groaned.
Drugs?
…Tim?
It was the most baffling situation he had ever found himself in. Every time his mind registered the horrific word, his stomach did another nauseating somersault. His insides clenched in fear as he thought of what could have happened to the kid if he and Tony hadn't turned up.
For all the scrapes his four had gotten themselves into, this one, hands down took the biscuit.
Whilst he was now calm and in control of himself, he was still murderously furious.
Tim knew his feelings on anything that put him, or any of the others, in danger.
Any kind of danger, let alone life threatening danger.
He could cheerfully strangle the kid, but he knew he'd miss him too much.
Deep down, he knew that Tim had been acting out.
He'd been feeling hurt and isolated, and decided, drunkenly, to try and fit in with a different crowd of people.
A crowd of people, which Gibbs did not approve of.
Whilst Gibbs understood all that, he instinctively knew there was more to it.
Something had been bothering the boy earlier on in the day, and what had happened had just served to push him over the edge he was already teetering on.
Gibbs' jaw tightened as he resolved to get to the bottom of everything that had gone down yesterday, whether Timothy McGee felt like sharing or not.
Sipping his coffee, his ears twitched when he heard the tell tale sounds of movement from upstairs.
Straining, he deduced from the light footsteps, that it was Tim and not Tony.
Feeling another wave of weariness come over him, he quickly stood and began preparing some cereal and coffee for his uncharacteristically delinquent junior agent.
Upstairs in the bathroom, Tim clutched the toilet bowl that had just received the contents of his stomach, and bit his lip from letting out a groan so load it was surely wake the sleeping Tony.
His memories of yesterday had come flooding back to him with a nauseating clarity.
He had left the office without telling anyone, having jumped to the wrong conclusions.
He had deliberately put himself out of contact, in the middle of a case.
He had gotten himself wasted, on the job.
As bad as all these things were, they were nothing he hadn't done and been thoroughly punished for, before.
He knew Gibbs would be furious with him for it, but he knew he could and would easily forgive him.
Had that been all he had done, he might have been able to force himself to walk downstairs where he knew the elder man was probably waiting, silently sipping coffee, and thinking up ways to kill him.
But…that hadn't been all that he'd done….
His stomach twirled and spinned as he recalled blearily the bag of small pink tablets as they had danced in front of his face.
His insides contracted with an almost painful force as he remembered the miserably weak protest he'd put up, before childishly and recklessly holding out his hand for the unknown, but obviously illicit substance.
He crouched over in pain as his stomach churned when he thought of the looks on both Tony and Gibbs' faces as they had found him.
Found him…just in time.
He quickly ducked his head into the toilet bowl as another wave of nausea overcame him.
Moments passed and he merely lay limply on the tiled floor, clutching with all his might to the toilet bowl, as if it was a precious life raft.
Remembering the tortured expression that adorned Gibbs' face, he shook his head.
He had acted like a petulant child yesterday, the least he could do was act his age today.
Carefully straightening up, he quickly rinsed his mouth out with Tony's thirty five dollar a bottle mouthwash and prayed he wouldn't kill him for it.
Squaring his shoulders, he quickly but quietly re-entered the bedroom housing the sleeping DiNozzo, and changed his alcohol reeking clothes in the darkness as stealthily as possible.
Both he and Tony had an appreciable quantity of clothes at their boss' place, and Tim was glad to change out of yesterdays clothing.
Taking a deep breath, he eyed the bedroom door for a moment as he collected himself.
Just go down there and get it over with his inner mind screamed, whilst his feet remained resolutely rooted the spot.
Imagine how you would have felt if it was Tony that ran off like that his conscious chided, which, in conjunction with the disappointment he had felt emanating from his boss in the car ride home, was enough to jerk his legs into action.
He found himself quietly padding down the stairs moments later in sock clad feet, trying valiantly to control his breathing as he went.
Halting outside the kitchen doorway, he steeled himself, before gently pushing the door open.
As suspected, Gibbs was fully dressed and sipping his fourth coffee of the day at the dining table.
Seeing Tim enter, he looked over his newspaper, with an x-ray level stare.
Pushing out the chair beside him with his foot, he jerked his head at the breakfast laid out upon the table.
"Sit down there and eat that."
His voice was calm, and level, but…Tim heard the undercurrent that lay behind every syllable.
Gibbs was pissed.
He was nuclear level pissed.
Feeling that putting anything in his stomach would be a heinously bad idea, but knowing better than to object, Tim cautiously sat himself down.
When Gibbs merely returned to his newspaper, and didn't offer any further speech, he began to squirm.
Forcing his mouth to open to insert the cereal, he concentrated on eating.
Eating… he could do.
Eventually though, the bowl was left empty and Tim had nothing else to concentrate on, and his fidgeting increased. He opened his mouth nervously to say something…what, he wasn't sure. But he had to say something.
Before he could get a word out however, he was interrupted by the arrival of a still sleepy looking Tony.
"Morning boss, morning probie" he greeted with a yawn, throwing himself down in his usual perch on the other side of Gibbs, so that he was facing across from an ashen faced McGee.
"Morning Tony" the elder man greeted, and Tim felt a wrenching pain in his gut in the different tone their boss was using with the senior field agent.
He was more than used to Tony being the one in trouble, and him being the good one.
The reversal of tables certainly didn't sit well with Tim, and he drooped miserably in his chair.
Tony's breakfast was brief, as Gibbs' cell pinged with an update on the case.
Hurriedly finishing the last of his cereal, he declared he was going to go and get ready for work and scarpered from the table. Tim made to go after him, seeing as he could probably do with a shower, but as he stood, he was stopped.
"Hold it."
Both boys turned to look at the older man with matching looks of confusion.
"Boss?"
Setting down his newspaper, Gibbs leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.
"Tony, you go on up and get ready on your own, Tim isn't going into the office today."
A slight silence descended as both men digested this, but as Gibbs cleared his throat meaningfully, Tony took his cue. Throwing McGee a deeply sympathetic look, he swept from the kitchen, saying silent prayers for the idiot probie in his head.
Down in the kitchen, Tim was once again squirming in his chair.
"Boss…what do you mean I'm not going into the office today?" he asked quietly, not sure he even wanted to know the answer.
"I mean, you're not going into the office today" Gibbs answered shortly, pulling himself up in his own chair in preparation of the little chat he had planned with his junior agent.
Gulping, Tim nervously chewed at his cuticles.
"Are you… suspending me?"
The question hung in the air for a moment whilst Gibbs digested this.
"No. Though I should. I've fired men for less than what you pulled yesterday, understand?"
Tim nodded gratefully, looking visibly and extremely relieved.
Gibbs sighed as he watched him, he never had any intention of suspending the younger man, ever.
There was, to his mind, nothing his four could pull that he couldn't deal with…in house.
Though he had to admit, Tim was pushing him to very pin of his collar with his unusual behaviour.
"I understand boss" the junior agent murmured, feeling slightly dizzy with relief. He knew that if he worked under any other leader at NCIS, he'd have been out the door without a second thought. Whilst this fact relieved him, it also made his already potent guilt bubble viciously in his stomach.
Gibbs didn't deserve the grief he clearly caused him.
Leaning forwards slightly on the table, the elder man fixed Tim with a look so serious that the younger man had to work hard to keep from passing out.
"You are not going into the office, you are using one of your days owing instead. I'll clear it with HR. You will take two hours at the maximum, to go to your place and pack a…substantial bag. You will be back here within those allotted two hours. Have I made myself clear so far?"
A rapidly paling Tim nodded instantly.
The fact that he would be grounded went without saying really, but…Gibbs usually trusted him to serve whatever confinement he'd earned himself out at his own place. Clearly…he didn't have that trust in him right now, and that alone made Tim wince with regret.
"You will spend the morning completely cleaning out the garden shed. It's a shambles, hasn't been touched in years. You will completely gut it out, clean and reorganise all the tools that are there. I want it spotless when I come home, is that also clear?"
Another pale nod was offered, as Tim hid a grimace.
He despised outdoor type things, which clearly his boss both knew and had decided to take full advantage of.
"You will then have lunch, I left out some burgers for you last night. Once you've eaten, and so help me you better have eaten, you will spend the afternoon doing some writing."
Tim merely looked his confusion as he sat dejectedly in his chair.
"Writing, boss?"
Nodding his head slowly, Gibbs sighed inwardly.
"You will find a box of cold cases in the basement. Instead of using your computers and…whatsits to condense and analyse them, you will do the entire box my hand. Understood?"
Despite how much trouble he was in and despite how guilty he felt, Tim had to work very hard not to make a face at that.
It would take hours and he would no doubt get carpal tunnel.
One look at the stern expression on Gibbs' face however convinced him to merely nod his head and murmur another "yes boss."
"I'll bring dinner home with me. Any questions?"
Tim shook his head immediately, but again stopped when the movement brought about another bout of nausea.
Gibbs stared at him closely for a moment, before letting out a weary sigh.
"I will deal with you when I get home tonight. I want you thinking all day about an explanation as to your behaviour. I know full well there was something up with you before the whole conference room debacle, and I'm going to hear about it. Clear?"
Wincing at his boss' clear omniscience, Tim nodded woefully.
Had he been that obvious?
"I have never, ever been so disappointed in you Tim" Gibbs muttered, letting his voice freely be coloured by said disappointment. "I don't know how you could have behaved the way you did, I would never have believed it of you, of any of you. It would be in your best interests to have a lot of answers for me for when I get home here tonight, do you understand?"
Wishing the ground would just open and swallow him hole, Tim managed to nod.
"I'm so sorry boss" he murmured in anguish, "I never meant to let you down like this…I can't believe what I did… you must hate me."
With the last four words his voice wavered, and he dropped his head down so Gibbs couldn't see the dull flush that was creeping across his cheeks.
A short silence ensued at his words.
Gibbs' answer was unsurprisingly non-verbal.
The headslap made an already aching head much worse, and Tim yelped loudly in response.
Gibbs stood, and bodily turning the chair that McGee was sitting in towards him, he crouched down in front of him.
"I am furious with you Tim, I'm disappointed in you and I was sick with worry over you, but I could never hate you. Never. I don't ever want to hear you saying that again, you understand me?"
Tim gaped at the uncharacteristic display of openness and vaguely registered his head nodding for what felt like the hundredth time of the still early morning.
"We will sort this out…it won't be pleasant, but I promise you that we'll sort this out, ok?"
Gibbs' voice was softer as he spoke, wanting Tim to feel guilty and ashamed of his behaviour, but never to feel like he'd lost his place in his life.
"Ok boss" Tim responded, with a small smile that he was amazed Gibbs returned.
Standing up, the elder man nodded and slipped back into pragmatic mode.
"Ok. You're on KP duty in case you hadn't guessed, so get this place cleaned up. When you're finished, get to your place and get back here, and then get on with your chores, got it?"
"Got it boss."
With that, Gibbs made to sweep from the room, but halted for a moment.
Grasping McGee by the shoulder, he looked down at him seriously.
"I meant what I said Tim, you're in a whole truck load of trouble, but you're still my trouble."
With that, he clapped the younger man on the shoulder and quickly exited the kitchen, hollering up the stairs to Tony to get his ass in the car.
As McGee sat amongst the breakfast debris, and hearing the front door slam as Tony rushed out after their boss, he smiled to himself.
Sure, his boss was going to kill him, and he might not be able to sit for his own children's weddings, but…Gibbs still wanted him.
With that thought cheering him on a day he thought he could never feel relief, he began to clear away the table.
He could get through this.
…
TBC
…