Chapter 23
Sometimes, Tony hated the way things were, but it was time to change that...or at least take the steps needed to change it. He walked up to Tim's office. Ziva was out with Ellie doing interviews. Gibbs was down with Ducky and Jimmy, going over the autopsy. Abby was swamped in her lab.
Tony was the only one who had time for lunch.
...well, the only one besides Tim.
He knocked on the door.
No response. Tony grimaced and walked in. Tim was at his computer while Jethro lay on the floor. He lifted his head and his tail started wagging when he saw Tony. Tim didn't seem to notice. Jethro got up and padded over to Tim. Tony watched as he started nudging Tim's hand. He made a strange sound in the back of his throat, and finally, Tim looked away from the monitor and at him.
"Hi, Jethro," he said.
"Hey, Tim," Tony said.
Tim looked up at him and smiled.
"Hi, Tony." He looked out the window and then at the time display on his computer. "Lunch?"
"Yeah, and it's just me today. Everyone else is busy."
"Okay."
Tim turned back to his computer, saved his work and then, he got up, grabbed Jethro's leash and they headed out. As they walked together, Tony tried to think of something to say...but for some reason, his mind was blank. He didn't usually have that trouble with Tim. He was awkward, but not this awkward. Maybe it was because he was trying to build up his courage to address a difficult topic.
But it wasn't like they'd never talked about it before. It seemed like ages ago that he had given Tim a ride to work and they'd had their first real conversation about Tony's lingering difficulties with accepting how Tim had changed. At the same time, however, it felt like they'd never really talked about it...not enough.
"Where are we going?" Tim asked, when they got outside.
"I was thinking we'd just get something from the food court and eat it outside. That all right?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
Tim walked beside him. When Tony looked at him, he couldn't see anything lingering from Tim's recent experiences. He seemed back to his new normal...although with it being more than two years since he'd been shot, it wasn't exactly new anymore.
They walked into the food court. It was a little busy, and before Tim had Jethro with him everywhere, they would have been really careful about making sure Tim could navigate his way through. This time, Tony watched as Tim's hand tightened on Jethro's leash.
"You all right in here?"
There was a long pause. Tony nudged Tim to get his attention. Tim jumped a little and looked at him.
"You all right?" Tony asked.
"I guess...we'll see, right?"
"Right." Tony smiled.
Tim was far from relaxed, but he urged Jethro forward. It was time to try it out. Tony forced himself to let Tim walk by himself. He went to get something for himself...keeping an eye on Tim as he walked through the food court. Jethro wasn't officially a service dog yet, but they'd got permission for Tim to take his dog with him anywhere on the Yard. Here, where there were so many sources of distraction for Tim, Jethro kept him from wandering, getting lost in the crowds. After a few minutes, Tony got his own food and then went over to where Tim was waiting in line.
"I picked the wrong line," Tim said after a long pause.
"We've got time."
Tim was tense, though. Tony could see it.
"You want me to get it for you?"
"No."
Tony kept himself from insisting and watched as Tim got to the front of the line, stammered out his order, paid and then got his food. He walked back to Tony, a white-knuckle grip on Jethro's leash.
"Okay. Let's get out of here."
"All right."
They left the food court together and, as soon as they got away from the chaos, Tim relaxed.
"Too many people, so much noise," he said softly. "It gets so confusing. I can't even tell where the sounds end. They just keep going until..."
"Until you fall off the edge of the earth," Tony finished, knowing that was probably how Tim would describe it.
Tim looked at him, searching for a joke and not finding it.
"Yeah."
"Where do you want to eat?"
"The park's fine."
"Okay."
They walked together to one of the benches in Willard Park. Jethro settled at Tim's feet and they both ate in an awkward silence.
"You don't have to do this, Tony," Tim said, after a few minutes.
Tony looked at him. He was fiddling with his fork, making strange shapes in his leftover soy sauce and rice.
"Do what?"
Tim looked up. "Pretend that you're okay with the way I am. I know you're not. We've talked about it before. You don't like it, even if it's better than when I was crazy."
Tony swallowed his mouthful of sandwich.
"It is better. Much better."
"But it's not good enough. Is it."
Tony took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"For what?"
"It's just...It's been so easy for Ellie to figure you out. She came in, met you, was awed and then, she was fine with it. I've known you for ten years and..."
"And you still want me to be how I was. That's the problem, Tony," Tim said. "Ellie doesn't have any expectations for how I should be. You do."
That same matter-of-fact presentation of uncomfortable facts. In a way, Tony envied Tim's ease. He didn't seem to worry about being embarrassed or anything. He just presented things the way they were.
"I know."
"But you also know that they're wrong," Tim said. "You know that I can't be that way, and so you feel guilty, but it's okay."
"No, it's not. I'm your friend and I should..."
Tim shook his head.
"Tony...I have the same expectations."
Tony furrowed his brow.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean...I expect me to be the way I was. The problem is that I can't. I've tried, but I can't because I can't really remember how I was. I remember what I did, but not...not the essence of why I did things. I just can't understand it, and sometimes, it's scary because I know that I'm different. I know that people are bothered by how different I am. I just have to...keep going because there's no other choice."
Tony was silent for a moment. He didn't know what to say to make it better.
"Is that why you told Ziva that song was about you?"
Tim furrowed his brow for a moment.
"Kansas?" Tony said.
"Oh. Maybe. It's the second verse that I thought of."
"What's the second verse?"
Tim closed his eyes and thought. Then, he spoke the words, very softly. He didn't sing them, but it almost didn't matter. Tony wanted to hear what Tim thought about himself, and if this song would explain it, he was all for listening.
"Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man,
Well, it surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune,
But I hear the voices say
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more."
Then, Tim opened his eyes again.
"That part."
"Why that part?"
"I... When I go to therapy every week, what we talk about is not about getting shot or struggling with making my life work."
"What is it, then?" Tony asked, when Tim stopped and didn't keep talking.
Tim looked at him, very earnestly.
"It's reminding me that I'm still myself. That getting shot didn't create another person in the same body. Tony, sometimes, I still feel like I'm a stranger rattling around inside a body that everyone else recognizes. I don't always feel that way, but sometimes...and I can't explain the way I see things to anyone. I see patterns that...don't exist. I feel like things that are completely hidden from others are wide open."
Tony was almost mesmerized, listening to him and correlating what he was saying to the words of the song. Tim smiled a little and continued.
"And I'm lost sometimes...like in the food court. If Jethro hadn't been there to keep me grounded, I wouldn't have known where I was. I would have got lost. Lost in an open room. And I get lost inside myself if I'm not careful. Like when I get angry. I can't think. When I get scared, I can't think. And I have to think. If I don't, I don't know who I am. I don't know where I am. I don't know if I even exist. I have to think, have to control that."
"Tim...I..."
"I'm not done," Tim said, cutting Tony off again. "There are times that I want to give up. I want to stop trying to make all this work. It's really hard living like this, Tony...and it'll never be easier. There's no guarantee that my brain won't break down some time in the future and I'll lose even more. There are scars on my brain. There's permanent damage in there." He rubbed at his scar. "Maybe it'll short circuit. I don't know. No one can. ...but I keep on going. Do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Because of all this," Tim said, gesturing at the park, the Forge building behind them, the world in general. "Because of the life I have...and the people in my life. That includes you, Tony, even though you have a hard time with it. I know you do, and I can't make it better. I've been wanting to try and explain everything to you. I've been thinking about it, thinking that maybe, if I explain it right, you won't try so hard. ...because...what I remember tells me that you don't like to try so hard. It feels as fake to you as my trying to be how I was feels to me. That's why I left DC before. I was going to be me again, but I can't be the old me. I can only be the new me...and remind myself that it is me. I said it before, when I first came back to DC. I don't want to lose my friends."
"You won't. I promise."
Tim smiled. "And I won't be who I was."
"No," Tony said. "You're still who you were. You're just different."
"Yeah...I'm different. That's why I agreed to move in with Ducky, even though I wanted to stay in my apartment. I don't want anything like that to happen again...and I don't want you to have to deal with it. Just thinking about it...terrifies me."
"It scares me, too," Tony admitted. "Seeing you in the hospital this last time..." He stopped, not wanting to put Tim back in that space.
Tim bent down and hugged Jethro, a sure sign that he was feeling upset.
"Hey, Tim..."
"It's okay," Tim said, keeping his voice soft. "I'm not falling off the earth." He took a deep breath and sat up again. "I'm okay."
Tony thought about what Tim had said, about how hard it was for him...and he also saw how well he was doing with the difficulty.
I can't keep adding to it.
"Tim, if you can be patient with me..."
"I can."
"Let me finish," Tony said, with a bit of a smile.
Tim smiled in reply.
"If you can be patient with me, I'm really going to try to change my expectations. I can't guarantee that I'm going to be great at doing that, but I'll try."
"Good. I want to finish eating, now," Tim said...and then, he grinned, looking so much like his old self, that Tony smiled back and didn't feel like he was forcing it.
They both finished their lunches and headed inside. Tim went up to his office and Tony went back to his desk.
"How did it go?"
He looked up and there was Gibbs.
"Better than I thought. Not perfect."
"Never gonna be, you know," Gibbs said. "It can't be. That's why you take it as it comes, instead of expecting more."
"Yeah. I'm working on that."
"Good idea." Then, it was back to work. "Abby found something in the samples Ducky sent up from the Autopsy."
"On your six, Boss," Tony said.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim sat down at his computer while Jethro ate his own lunch. For a long moment, he just stared at the blank computer screen, watching the swirling patterns in his vision. Then, he pulled out the gun he kept in his desk drawer. He looked at it, feeling the same twisting in his guts that he always did when he held a gun, and thought about what he'd told Tony.
Finally, he understood what he was trying to do with it, and he understood what his therapist had been trying to tell him.
He was trying to make himself like he was. It wasn't going to happen. He didn't like the gun being in there...so there was no reason to keep it there.
"I'm not keeping this, Jethro," he said. "I'm not going to make it harder for me. I want it to be easier."
Decision made, he left his office and went down to the bullpen. No one was there. So he got a piece of paper, wrote a note on it and left the note and the gun on Gibbs' desk. Then, he went back up to his little office, turned on his computer and started to work on a special cipher the Navy was setting up.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Gibbs didn't get back to his desk until much later in the day. When he did, Tony, Ziva and Ellie were all chatting about the case, and he saw the gun laying there. Confused, he walked over and picked it up. It wasn't his own gun.
Then, he saw the note.
"What's that, Boss?" Tony asked.
Gibbs smiled and handed the note over to Tony.
"'Boss, I don't need this anymore, and I don't want it in my office. Would you take it back to storage? I'm okay with being me, now.'"
"How did that happen?" Ziva asked. "What was different about today?"
Gibbs looked at Tony and raised an eyebrow. Tony flushed.
"It wasn't me, Boss."
"That's the only thing that was different, Tony."
Ziva smiled.
"Whatever you did, Tony, good job."
"I didn't do anything except take him to get lunch."
"And you talked to him. Even if you don't know what you said, maybe it was just letting him say things, too," Ellie said. "Talking things out sometimes makes things make sense."
"Maybe."
Gibbs looked at the gun and smiled. Whatever the reason, he was glad that Tim had made the decision.
It looked as though things were getting better after all.