Chapter 2

"How wrong are things, Ziva?" Ducky asked.

Ziva didn't answer his question. "Gibbs wants you to get out here as soon as possible."

"That bad? Very well. I shall hustle."

Ziva hung up and looked over at Tim who was pacing in agitation.

"McGee?" she asked tentatively.

"What." It was not really a question.

"You realize that she was guilty, do you not? That she was about to kill you?"

Tim stopped. "Of course, I do, Ziva. I'm not stupid," he said derisively. "Sometimes, sometimes, people are what they are because of what has been done to them. Even if they're not, that's no reason for us to treat them like dirt! She does not deserve to be thrown to the dogs...and I won't let Tony do that to her, even if she's dead."

"McGee..." Again, Ziva hesitated. "...McGee, did you know Louisa Grady?"

"No," Tim said, looking surprised at the question. "Why would you think that?"

"You seem to be taking this very personally."

"Ziva, don't you get it?" Tim asked, his voice rising. "Louisa Grady isn't just our suspect. The people we arrest, the people we convict, they aren't just criminals. They're mothers, daughters, wives...husbands, sons, fathers. Friends... They all have something to be said about them. We never know half the things that they are. All we see is this one event that brings them into our sphere...and we judge them by that, nothing else."

"How else should we judge them, McGee?"

"Like people, Ziva!" Tim said, loudly.

"McGee!"

Tim turned around to confront Gibbs.

"What, Boss?" he asked.

Gibbs strove to keep his voice even, but his own anger (and a bit of worry) were apparent in his measured tone. "You are going to go back to DC with us when we are finished here. You will not repeat your behavior of a few minutes ago..."

"If Tony can keep his big mouth shut for once," Tim said, angrily.

"Shut up!" Gibbs growled. "When we get back, you and I are going to have a meeting with Director Vance. This is going in your file. ...and then, you are going to see a shrink."

"Me?" Tim asked, affronted. "I'm going to see a shrink? I'm going to be reprimanded? Me? When Tony can't stop slobbering all over every woman who passes in front of him? Can't stop himself from flirting even when it's a grieving widow? When–?"

"I said shut up, McGee!" Gibbs repeated. "As of right now, you are suspended from active duty. You will sit out here and wait for us to finish. Got that?"

"And when Tony's done undressing the body with his eyes will he have to sit out here, too?" Tim retorted, nastily. "Maybe you should make him sit on his hands seeing as he can't–"

"That is enough, McGee!" Gibbs roared. "You are out of line and in big enough trouble as it is. Rub a couple of brain cells together and keep your mouth shut!" He turned from Tim and looked at Ziva. "Are you ready to help out in there?"

"Yes. Ducky is on his way."

"Good." He turned back to Tim. "Are we clear, McGee?"

"Crystal...crystal clear...Boss," Tim said, somehow conveying insult in the title.

Gibbs chose not to respond to the unspoken insult. Instead, he stalked back into the auditorium, Ziva in tow. Tim watched them go and then turned around and kicked the sedan as hard as he could, making a significant dent. It didn't even hurt his foot very much.

At first, he was fiercely glad to see that expression of his indignation, but then, after half an hour of angry mental acrobatics, he wondered exactly why he was so angry, why he had damaged the car, why he had chosen that exact moment to punch Tony in the face when there were so many other times that he had deserved it more. The longer he stared at the dent, the more worried he got about what had been going through his mind. Louisa Grady was a murderer and she had been ready to kill him...but somehow, that didn't matter. She had killed an innocent man and Tim didn't care. He cared that she was now dead, not that Sgt. Grover had been murdered by an obviously disturbed woman. Why not? Why didn't Sgt. Grover's death mean anything to him? Why didn't he care about that? Why did he, instead, care only about the perpetrator, not the victim? Tim sat down on the ground beside the car...beside the dent and tried to understand his actions.

Instead of being infuriated, he was now extremely confused...and a little bit guilty. Had his actions caused Louisa Grady's death? He'd definitely gone out of the bounds of his area of expertise. He wasn't a negotiator. He had let her get so close. He had focused her attention on him, asked her leading questions that had infuriated her.

What was I thinking?

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

"Did he say anything to you?" Gibbs asked Ziva as they walked into the auditorium, calming down enough that he didn't shout.

"Only that we should be treating the criminals like people. Nothing else, really. He is furious, though. I do not think I have ever seen him so angry."

"He still mad?" Tony asked from his position on the stage.

"Yes, Tony. He is."

"Okay, then, if it's all right with you, Boss, I'm going to stay in here for a while." There was a large bump on the side of Tony's face, a bump now turning purple.

"What a good idea, Tony," Gibbs said. "You can get some work done for once."

"Hey! I've been working!" Tony protested. "...and I killed a crazy lady a few minutes ago. Doesn't that count?"

Ziva stared at Tony for a long moment. "You know, Tony...while I will not punch you, McGee is right about one thing: You should not act so callously about people like this woman. She was obviously not in her right mind and was not responsible for her actions. You could show a bit more empathy."

Tony opened his mouth to argue but stopped at Gibbs' glare. Instead, they began to work in silence, processing a scene which was now the site of a death rather than the anticipated arrest.

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

"We're making good time, Mr. Palmer. Provided you make no wrong turns, we should get there in approximately half an hour," Ducky said.

"You have the map, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy said, with a grin. "Give me the right directions and I won't get lost."

A soft smack with the map was followed by a chuckle. "You obviously need some toning down, Mr. Palmer, if you feel you can speak back to your superiors in such a fashion."

"I'm just learning from them," Jimmy replied, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Ha!" Ducky was about to make a witty retort (could it be anything else?) but was prevented by his phone ringing.

"Yes, Jethro?"

"How far away are you?"

"About 30 miles, give or take."

"Good. When you get here, I'd like you to take a look at McGee."

"Why?"

"Just tell me what you think."

"Why don't you just look at him yourself, Jethro?"

"Ducky, just do it!"

"Fine. Should I be looking for something in particular?"

"No. Just...anything."

Now, Ducky could hear his worry.

"What is wrong, Jethro?"

"That's the problem. I don't know." Gibbs hung up, leaving Ducky staring speculatively at the phone.

"What's going on, Doctor?" Jimmy asked.

"I'm not entirely certain. Do you think you could...step on it, a bit?"

"Sure!" Jimmy pushed the gas pedal down and the truck's speed increased...dramatically.

Ducky involuntarily grabbed onto the door handle. "Do not get us killed, please, Mr. Palmer."

"Of course not, Dr. Mallard!" Jimmy said, quickly...but he grinned.

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

Their arrival at Clarksburg did not involve Jimmy getting lost...or in an accident. In fact, they made excellent time and pulled up to the auditorium quite easily. Ducky got out and directed Jimmy to gather their accouterments. Then, he walked toward the sedan...toward the legs he could see sticking out from its shade. He was surprised to find Tim, sitting beside the front passenger-side door of the sedan. The door was noticeably dented. Tim was...wrong, somehow.

"Timothy, what are you doing there?"

Tim looked up from his position on the ground.

"Sitting."

"I can see that. Did someone ding the sedan?"

"What?"

Ducky pointed to the large dent. Tim actually looked ashamed.

"No. Um...I did that."

"How?"

"I kicked it."

Ducky looked at the dent again. That would have required quite a lot of force. "Why?"

"I was mad."

"I see. Are you still?"

Tim shifted around a little on the ground, looking uncomfortable. "Well...yeah...no...not...not really. Not anymore."

"I see. Well, could you give us hand?"

Tim shook his head. "Gibbs told me to stay out here. I'm in...a bit of trouble, Ducky. He took me off active duty."

"He did? When did this happen?"

"Right after I punched Tony." Tim looked down at the ground.

Ducky covered his surprise. "Very well. We can manage."

Tim nodded at the ground.

Ducky jerked his head toward the building and Jimmy nodded, having stayed silent during the conversation.

"Ducky, welcome to Clarksburg!" Tony called. They were all sitting on the edge of the stage, obviously simply waiting for his arrival.

"Working hard, I see."

"We finished everything we can do until you get here."

"And so you just had to sit around?"

"Well, since McGee punched me, I figured it was safer to stay in here."

"I thought he'd have done it sooner, actually." Ducky smiled at the shock on Tony's face. "You do tend to overstep your bounds, my lad."

"Not like this, Ducky," Gibbs said. "This wasn't about that."

"No. It was something else," Ziva agreed. "Tony was not being more annoying than usual."

"Thanks, Ziva," Tony said sarcastically.

"Well, he is no longer angry; so I believe it is safe for you to go outside, Tony."

"How is he, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"I would describe him as confused. He did kick a dent in your car, by the way."

"What?"

"He kicked the sedan hard enough to dent it...rather substantially, in fact."

"You'll have to take it to a garage to get it fixed," Jimmy put in.

"Oooh," Tony said. "That's going to come out of his paycheck."

"I'll take it out of his hide," Gibbs said. "You two finish up in here with Ducky. Come out when you're finished." He jumped off the stage and began to leave.

"Jethro!" Ducky called and hurried to catch up with him. "What is really going on here?"

"I don't know, Ducky. I really don't. McGee flipped out. He possibly got Louisa Grady killed and then he punched Tony in the face. He's running off at the mouth and I'm wondering when he suddenly lost his good sense."

"It's not sudden, you know, Jethro. He's been rather uptight the past few months."

"Yeah, lost his money in the stock market."

"No, that is not it. That is not all. Yes, he told Ziva that was it, but I question that he would be this upset by finances. It is not as though he does not still get a paycheck from NCIS. Regardless, he was ashamed by his behavior. I think you should take that into account when you confront him."

"I'm not back-pedaling on this, Ducky. Assaulting a coworker is out of line. His actions were reckless and could have got him killed. This job is dangerous enough without people going off half-cocked..."

"As you never do, correct?" Ducky asked.

Gibbs just glared and walked out. Tim was still sitting on the ground, but he scrambled to his feet when he saw Gibbs approaching.

"Got anything to say, McGee?"

Tim actually scuffed his feet.

"I don't know what I was thinking, Boss."

"When? When you started talking to Louisa Grady and nearly let her shoot you or when you punched DiNozzo?"

"Either..." He stared at the ground for a long time. "I...I don't know."

"What don't you know?"

"I don't know why I was so angry. I've always known that Tony is a misogynist jerk." Even in his attempt to explain and be rational, Tim's voice became sharper there. "But I..." He looked up. "I don't know. Boss, did I get her killed? I didn't want that. I was trying to help her."

"We'll never know, McGee."

"I...I won't punch Tony again, Boss. Promise." Tim tried to smile, but the anxiety in his eyes made it much too false. Gibbs could see how worried Tim was.

"Why did you kick the car?"

"I was mad, Boss. I don't know when...it was probably when that guy killed Erin."

"This doesn't get you out of it, McGee. You're still seeing Vance and you're still going to a shrink."

Tim's head jerked up. "Boss, I deserve the reprimand. I know that. Punching Tony was stupid, but...but it's just...it's not a big deal. I just..."

"Could have been killed, McGee. You weren't aiming at her. You weren't doing anything. If we hadn't been there, she would have killed you."

"Maybe. Maybe not. She might not have pulled the trigger," Tim said. "She wasn't a bad person, Boss. She just needed help."

"McGee, can you hear yourself? Being understanding is all well and good, but can't you see that there's a problem here?"

"I...I know that...Boss, I do. ...but it's not that big a deal."

"If you can't see the problem, McGee, you need more help than I thought."

Tim looked down again. "Boss, did I get her killed?"

Gibbs sighed. "I don't know, McGee. You ready to go?"

"Yeah. Who are we going to tell?"

"What?"

Tim lifted his head. "Who are we going to tell? Her mother's dead. She obviously wanted nothing to do with her father. Her friends were getting cut out of her life. Who's going to really care that she's dead, Boss?"

"Tim...we can worry about that later."

"Why? Why not now? She's a victim, now, Boss. She was before."

"Later. We won't be releasing the body until the investigation is over in any case."

The door behind them opened and Jimmy and Ducky rolled out the gurney carrying the body bag.

"I wasn't lying, you know," Tim said as Ziva and Tony joined them, albeit slowly. He stared at the black bag. "She was beautiful." He shook his head and walked to the car, opening the back door.

"You can sit in the front this time, Probie. I'll suffer with Ziva."

Tim looked back. "Sorry I punched you, Tony."

The mood shift was disconcerting to say the least. Tim seemed almost normal.

"That wasn't a punch," Tony said, nonchalantly. "It was a love tap. Your sister could have hit me harder."

Tim smiled. "Yeah, she could have. She takes self-defense classes now." He got in the car.

Tony looked at Gibbs over the roof. "Boss?"

"Don't ask right now, Tony," Gibbs said and got in the driver's side.

The ride back to DC was very quiet.