Chapter 22

One month later...

"There!" Tony declared triumphantly as he dropped a box on the floor. "That's the last box. We're done!"

"Maybe you're done, Tony," Ellie said. "I don't see done here. I see piles of boxes."

While the banter continued, Tim stared at the piles of stuff that seemed to have exploded into Ducky's house. There was so much of it, and Ducky had modified the entire layout of his home so that Tim could have his own space. He had a bedroom and an office and a bathroom all to himself. With the exception of the kitchen and living space they would share, it was almost the same amount of room he'd had before.

It was nice, but Tim was still worried about it, and with all his stuff in bags and boxes, it was hard to feel like this was home. Everyone told him that he would feel better with time, but he hadn't so far.

"Tim?"

Tim jumped and looked around. Everyone was looking at him.

"Timothy?" Ducky asked.

"Everything is...unorganized," Tim said. "It's not home."

"Can you delay organizing it long enough to have dinner?"

Tim looked at the mess, and he shook his head.

"No."

Suddenly, Ellie stepped forward with a smile on her face.

"I know how you feel, Tim. I hate leaving things undone, messy," she said. "But it's going to take a long time to get all this stuff organized, isn't it?"

Tim nodded.

"Then, how about we do just your bedroom right now? We could get that done fast enough. Your boxes are all really organized."

"You just want to eat," Tony said.

"Not just," Ellie said with a grin.

"You don't all have to stay," Tim said.

"Yeah, we do," Tony said. "We can't go and eat and leave you here sorting through boxes alone."

"Would the bedroom be enough?" Ziva asked.

Tim shrugged.

"That's what you'd see first thing. Then, tomorrow, you could get the rest unpacked and organized," Ellie said.

Tim thought about it. It didn't seem like a bad idea. He definitely hated the boxes sitting there with his stuff in them...but it would take hours to unpack. He looked at his stuff and then back at Ellie. He was surprised that she was so willing to help him out. ...but still...

Jethro nuzzled his hand. Tim looked down at his dog and then knelt on the floor and hugged him. However he did it, Jethro always seemed to know when Tim was starting to get upset.

"Okay," Tim said. He got to his feet and walked to the stack of boxes that were all labeled Bedroom. He picked up the one that held his clothing and carried it into the bedroom. He walked over to the chest of drawers and carefully began unpacking the box. All the clothes went into the same spots they had been at his apartment.

"Tim?"

Tim looked up and saw Ellie standing there with his shoes.

"Yeah?"

"I thought that maybe you might have an order that you wanted your shoes to be in the closet."

Tim smiled a little.

"Yeah, I do."

"Do you want to do it or do you want to just tell me?"

"I'll do it," Tim said. He took the box and walked over to the closet. "Ellie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you so okay with this, with me?"

Ellie looked at him for a long moment and then she smiled.

"Because...I can understand wanting things to be in order, knowing that things have to be in a certain way to be right. It's one of the reasons I was so good at my job at the NSA. I noticed things being wrong."

"It's not just about wanting," Tim said.

"I know. You need things in order. That's okay. If your feeling is stronger than mine, it doesn't mean I can't get it. Besides, everyone has things that they need to function. If yours are more complicated, it doesn't make it completely strange." Then, she laughed a little. "Besides, I didn't know you before. I only know you as you are, not as you were...and I think you're nice enough as you are now."

Tim looked at her for a long moment. Ellie might be the first person not to be put off by his quirks. ...and that was a good thing. He smiled.

"Thanks, Ellie."

"No problem, Tim. Now, is there something I can put away that won't mess up your order?"

"The clothes in that box go into the bottom drawer. As long as they're folded..."

"I can handle that."

Ellie walked over to his chest of drawers and sat down, cross-legged beside the box. Tim watched her for a moment and then bent over to arrange his shoes.

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

Tony backed away from the door as Ellie and Tim worked in companionable silence. He would never have expected Ellie Bishop to be the one who got Tim so instinctively. That wasn't to say that there weren't awkward moments, but her brain just followed Tim's track better than most of them could.

Especially me.

Tony sighed to himself. He knew he was better than he'd been, but he was still awkward...and it wasn't right that a stranger could come in and be easier with Tim than his friend of ten years could.

"They could almost be birds of a feather, couldn't they," Ducky said in a low voice.

Tony turned and looked at him and then back into the bedroom.

"Timothy is a few steps beyond her in terms of his idiosyncrasies, of course, but there is something about her that meshes with him quite easily."

"Yeah."

Ducky raised an eyebrow. "Envious?" he asked.

"Maybe a little."

"You're his friend, Anthony. That won't change because someone else comes into his sphere."

"I know, but I think I'm more envious of how easy it's been for her."

"You still have time," Ducky said. "Thankfully, there is plenty of time."

"Yeah."

He looked back toward Tim's bedroom where he was now sitting with Ellie on the floor, showing her how to fold his t-shirts. Ellie didn't seem at all bothered by Tim's exacting requirements. She accepted it with the equanimity that Abby would.

Maybe it was time to make more of an effort than he had up to this point.

Suddenly, Ellie jumped up.

"I think we're ready to eat!" she announced.

Tim got up more slowly, but he did smile a little.

"Bedroom all organized, then?" Gibbs asked.

Tim nodded.

"We've got the furniture set up in the office, but you'll have to put your books on the shelves."

Abby and Ziva came out of the bathroom.

"Everything put away in there, too, Tim," Abby said. "If you need to change any of it, we won't mind."

Tim laughed.

"I'm ready to eat, then," he said.

"Good. Let's go."

They headed over to Gibbs' place to have dinner, rather than forcing Tim to exert a lot of effort trying to focus on anything happening at the table. It was simple, and Tim clearly appreciated it. They chatted in the calmer, slower way they tended to use when Tim was with them. Not simplistic, but simpler.

Then, after dinner, they all helped clean up and Tim and Ducky started to leave. Suddenly, though, Tim turned back.

"Thanks," he said. "For everything."

"Anytime, Tim," Ziva said. "We will always be willing to help if you need it."

"I know." He nodded quickly and then wiped at his eyes and left with Ducky.

After the door closed, Ziva nodded a little to herself.

"I feel so much better knowing that he is with Ducky and not by himself anymore," she said.

There was heartfelt agreement around the room.

"It'll take a while for him to feel the same way, I think," Jimmy said. "Hopefully, not too long."

"Eventually."

Tony didn't say anything, but he agreed. Hopefully, Tim would be happy to have someone to lean on...sooner, rather than later.

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

"Well, Timothy, how are you feeling?"

Tim was looking around the room, a little nonplussed.

"Timothy?"

"I don't know, Ducky. Now that it's happened...it's reality. I just..."

"You're feeling anxious."

"Yeah."

"To be expected. It will take time, and you have it. As much time as you need. Your psychiatrist told you as much, didn't he?"

Tim nodded.

"I know you have to be worried, but remember that this is your home now. You're not a visitor. You don't have to ask permission to do anything. I'm not in charge."

"I'll try to remember."

"Are you going to bed?"

Jethro nudged at him and whined. Tim looked down and smiled. Jethro was currently in training to become an official psychiatric service dog and while the process would take time, it would make things easier for Tim to have Jethro officially recognized for what he was already doing.

"I think Jethro is ready for bed."

"If you can't sleep, you don't need to worry about getting up if you want to. It's your home, too, and anything you would do in your apartment, you can do here. Even use your typewriter."

"I haven't been," Tim said.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just haven't."

"Well, you don't have to, but it's there for you."

Tim nodded. Ducky decided to leave him to adjust to his new situation, showing his confidence in Tim by letting him do as he chose to.

"Good night, then, lad. You'll have all tomorrow to organize the rest of your belongings."

"I know."

Ducky patted Tim on the shoulder and went upstairs to go to bed. Tim might still be ambivalent, but Ducky was happy to have someone else in his house. Living alone wasn't his ideal, and he hoped that Tim would see the positives in it as well.

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

Tim looked around his bedroom. He had to keep reminding himself that he was home. This was now his home. That other place was no longer his home. It was just that this was different. Not as different as it could be because he'd lived here for a time once before.

...but it was different.

Jethro nudged him again and Tim let the German shepherd urge him toward the bedroom. He had his own space. That was good. It would just take time.

Tim got ready for bed...in a bathroom that felt strange to him but not unfamiliar. Then, he went into the bedroom...that he'd slept in before but didn't feel like his. He sat down on the bed.

This is my home. This is my home. It's okay. It's my home. I'm still me. I'm just here instead of there. It's okay. This is my home.

Tim kept up the mantra in his head as he lay down and stared at the ceiling...the unfamiliar ceiling.

He couldn't hear anything from Ducky upstairs. It was quiet.

"Jethro?" he called out.

There was a clatter of paws and then, he felt the weight on the bed as Jethro leapt up and then, the comforting weight of Jethro's head as he settled beside Tim. It grounded him, as Jethro had always been able to do...as physical contact always did for him. It kept him from feeling that disorientation that he always feared, that would always be a part of his life.

He lay there for a long time, not paying attention to how much time was passing, just feeling Jethro on his chest, trying to adjust to this feeling of being in a different place, a place that was still anchored to the earth. He wouldn't fall off here.

He closed his eyes.

I'm home. I'm home. I'm me. I'm alive. I'm safe.

After an unknown amount of time, Tim began to believe what he was telling himself. It still didn't feel quite like home, but it was real. It was reality. It was him.

Tim fell asleep in his new home.