Chapter 3

Jimmy came in, excited about having found, not only a large basin, but also a working well. They couldn't guarantee the quality of the water, but with the chlorine dioxide tablets, they could still treat the water and be assured of having a supply...for as long as they needed it, hopefully not long. Then, they sat down beside Tim, neither seemed inclined to sleep. Ducky decided that it would be useful to take the time to discuss what they might know.

"All right, Mr. Palmer. Let us practice the art of assumptions."

"Assumptions?"

"Yes. Using what we have gleaned about Timothy's state, let us see if we can discern how he came to be here. Any thoughts?"

"Well...he got the puncture wound and his head wound at about the same time."

"And not with the same method. Probably, the head wound came after the puncture wound."

"Why would you say that?" Jimmy asked.

"Because of how irregular the puncture wound is. I am thinking that it might have been from..."

"A tree!" Jimmy said loudly...and then flushed. "Sorry."

"No apologies necessary."

"A sign of weakness?"

Ducky chuckled. "No. It might be for Jethro, but it's a sign of strength to me. Why would you say a tree?"

"Tree branches...they break off low to the ground because of animals and stuff. A fight or something." Jimmy was quiet for a moment. "So...where's the rest of the team?"

"Pardon?"

"Why would Tim be by himself out in a place like this?"

Ducky nodded in realization. "He's said that he needed to go back...back for his friends."

"Alive or dead?" Jimmy asked seriously.

"We will assume alive until we have evidence otherwise...simply because dead means that we do nothing."

"Okay," Jimmy said softly, looking down at Tim who was motionless on the floor, obviously thinking about how badly Tim was injured.

"If he was with the team when he was injured, I think we can also make assumptions about why Timothy got away."

"We can?"

"Yes. Imagine the situation. They were taken by surprise..."

x.x.x.x

"Look out, McGee!"

Tim was flung back against the tree and shouted out in sudden pain. He fell to the ground.

"About time. Take a nap!"

A heavy thump dropped Tim to the ground...motionless on the ground.

"Get him. Let's go."

"You want to tie him up?"

"He's out. Don't bother."

"He might die before we get there."

"Fine by me."

x.x.x.x

"Tim is injured and weak. No reason to restrain him as well," Jimmy said.

"Exactly. Depending on how long they were kept captive...and it must have been a day or two at the least with the infection in Timothy's wound. He may have found the strength to make a run for it...but lost his way, if he even knew it at all."

"So why didn't they stop him?"

"Perhaps he got out during the night and they have not yet discovered that he is missing."

"That would mean they're not far away," Jimmy said with justified worry.

"Yes, it would...but the rain, although it has not helped us, may have concealed Timothy's escape and his path of travel."

Jimmy looked out the window. "If they took them all at once...that would mean at least four."

"Yes, it would."

"We'd be outnumbered if they came here."

"Indeed."

"Doctor?"

"Yes, Mr. Palmer?"

"I hope they don't come here."

"As do I."

"So...hot...hot...water...need some water..."

Tim's sudden movement, accompanied by his whimpers, took them both by surprise. He flung off the blanket and was squirming in pain.

"Water, Mr. Palmer," Ducky said and quickly took hold of Tim, calming his movements, lifting him up off the floor.

Jimmy grabbed the water bottle and held it to Tim's lips. Tim choked and sputtered but did drink. Then, his head fell back against Ducky and his eyes fluttered open, looking not so wild...but not completely sane, either.

"Timothy?"

"McGee?" Jimmy said. "How are you feeling?"

"Hot...so hot...gotta get out...out...air. Need to breathe."

"Timothy, were you with your teammates?"

"Hot..." Tim lay there, limp and panting...but then, he suddenly shifted. His breathing sped up and pulled free of Ducky's grasp, crawling for the door before Jimmy pulled himself together and stopped him.

"No, Tim. You need to stay here."

"So...hot...they're...not...can't..."

Tim wasn't strong enough to continue, but he tried. Jimmy pulled him back to the middle of the room. Tim started to cry as he struggled to get to the door.

"Go...come back...stop...can't...hot...hot..."

Ducky took one of the pieces they'd cut of Tim's clothes and soaked it in water. Then, while Jimmy held him, he mopped at Tim's face and neck.

"Stay here, Timothy. You need to rest."

Tim shivered a little as the cold water dripped from his neck down to his chest...but he did stop fighting and soon he was asleep again. Jimmy lay him back on the floor. They stared at him in silence for a few minutes.

"If he just got away tonight...it must have been hard for the others to watch him." Jimmy said softly. "Getting worse and worse and not being able to do anything to help him."

x.x.x.x

"McGee, how are you feeling?" Tony asked.

Tim shifted painfully. "I wish that they had killed me. It's so hot in here, isn't it."

"You must have a fever. I wish we could do something."

"You can't," Tim said, wincing. "You can't. Oh, I'm so hot."

"Try to stay still, McGee," Gibbs said. "You're going to make yourself start bleeding again."

"Hurts, Boss...and I'm so hot."

x.x.x.x

Ducky squeezed Jimmy's shoulder comfortingly.

"It's always hard to see someone you care about suffer, lad."

Jimmy nodded.

"I hate having to sit here. I know what we need to do, Dr. Mallard...but we can't do it!"

"No, we can't. We just will have to strive to do what we can."

"How can you just accept it, Doctor?" Jimmy asked. "Death doesn't bother me. Not at all. Everyone dies eventually. ...but...watching how someone dies. That's different."

"It is. I have had years to adjust to it. That doesn't mean it's not hard for me. What it means is that I've learned to deal with it."

"That's why I don't want to be a doctor...for...living people," Jimmy confessed. "I could, but I don't want to. I'd rather not risk it."

"You always take a risk, even if your patient is already dead," Ducky said.

Tim began to stir again. His eyes remained closed, but he was mumbling unintelligibly. Ducky wet the rag again and mopped Tim's face and neck. Tim was panting, not just because of his fever. His face kept screwing up in pain. Finally, his eyes opened again. He stared up at the ceiling and then his face scrunched up, this time in confusion.

"Where am I?" he whispered. "What's going on?"

Ducky gently wiped Tim's face again. Jimmy took the water bottle once more and helped Tim take a drink. His eyes shifted from the ceiling to Jimmy. They were bright with fever, but the delirium was broken for the moment.

"Jimmy...what..." Then, he breathed faster as the pain made itself known again.

"Do you remember how you got here, Tim?" Jimmy asked.

"Where...is here? What happened?"

Jimmy looked at Ducky. So much for getting information from Tim in this state. Even semi-coherent...Tim didn't seem to remember anything.

"We're not sure, Timothy," Ducky said. "You appeared out of nowhere, it seems."

"But...where?"

"Well, actually, Dr. Mallard and I got lost," Jimmy said. "We're not completely sure where we are."

"You...gone...that...conference," Tim said. He was losing his battle with consciousness and coherency.

"Yes, we were on our way back when our car broke down," Ducky said.

"But...back? But...that's...days..."

"What's the last day you remember, Timothy?" Ducky asked. "How long had we been gone?"

Tim shifted around again, trying to find a comfortable position, and failing at that.

"Timothy, the day."

"Day...after, I think. Don't know."

"Oh, dear. That would be five days...if your lost memories begin when you were first injured. No wonder the infection is so severe."

"Infection?"

"Yes. Timothy, you were injured somehow, quite seriously."

"Tim, do you remember anything?" Jimmy asked. "Like...where Agent Gibbs is?"

Tim looked at Jimmy for a long moment.

"Was he with me?" he asked finally.

"We don't know, Tim. Our phones don't work and we're stuck out here."

"Lost my phone...no...not lost." Then, Tim's tenuous grasp on his sanity slipped. His eyes closed and he started twisting around again. "So hot...hot..."

"It's all right, lad. Just sleep. Rest. We'll do our best."

"I'm so...hot."

"I know. Just try to stay still. Try to rest."

Eventually, after some soothing words, a little bit more water (both in his mouth and on his face), and a lot of shifting, Tim did sleep again.

"How long do you think he'll sleep this time?" Jimmy asked. "It doesn't seem like he's able to sleep for very long."

"I don't know," Ducky said. "It's hard to gauge this kind of thing."

"Yeah. I'll go get some more water...I guess." Jimmy stood and headed for the door, basin in hand.

Ducky got up as well.

"Jimmy," he said.

Jimmy stopped and turned back, clearly surprised at being addressed by his first name. It was a rare occasion that Ducky was so informal.

"Yeah?"

"Caring for the welfare of your patient isn't a weakness in medicine, no matter what you might be told. It's good to care, to be aware of the patient's suffering, but you do have to learn to set that aside when you might have to inflict pain in order to begin healing. That is true for us as well. No, our patients can't feel pain any longer, but what we do still has the power to give pain to others, depending on what we find. Being aware of the pain is important...but it's also necessary to remember that we are tasked with discovering the truth."

"I don't think about that."

"Perhaps not consciously, but you're aware of it."

"How do you know?"

"Because I have taught it to you, and you are a very good learner."

Jimmy looked a bit surprised again, but then he smiled. "Thanks."

He went out and refilled the water and then returned and added another chlorine dioxide tablet to it.

"We should try to get some sleep ourselves, Mr. Palmer," Ducky said, settling down on the floor beside Tim.

"Both of us?"

"If you're worried about invaders, we can set up a watch. It might be beneficial to have one person awake in case Timothy again attempts to 'go back' as he's declared he must."

"I'll take the first watch, Dr. Mallard. You can sleep."

Ducky smiled. "Age before beauty, then. I see."

In spite of his worries about Timothy's health, about their possibly-dangerous situation, Ducky was tired and he found it easy to slip off into dreamland, knowing that Jimmy would be keeping his eyes open.