Driving in to work, Ziva begins to feel slightly better about her relationship with Tim. His heartfelt remorse- so deep it literally brought tears to the normally stoic young man – has not only soothed her fears about where their relationship is headed, but also melted her heart. She smiles at that thought. Her heart does not need any more melting because Tim has already changed her into the warmer, more affectionate person she's become and she's happier for it. Her faith in his ability to rebound from this is endless and that is why she's letting him call the shots on this.

As she arrives in the squad room, she's surprised to find that she's the first one in. Settling in behind her desk, she casts a second glance at Gibbs' desk which alters that realization and she's quick to get to work. The last thing she needs is to give him a reason to become irritated with her beyond the fact that she's here and not keeping an eye on Tim as planned.

******NCIS******

Several cups of coffee and a long slow walk back to the office later, Gibbs feels only marginally better

Strolling through the building toward his desk, he's almost reached it when he finds himself stopping in mid-stride; the sight of Ziva already at work behind her own desk an unexpected jolt. "Whattaya doin' here, Da'vid?"

"Gibbs." She greets him with her usual calm, quiet address.

Walking back out around his desk, he heads over to hers. "Not an answer."

"Gibbs." She replies quietly as she looks up at him. "Tim was….he insisted that I return to work. He said he did not want me to…. sit? on him." She frowns. "I do not understand why he believes I would do such a thing."

Gibbs smiles as Tony walks in from the elevator behind her, chuckling. "So, Probie doesn't want a babysitter."

"Yes! " Ziva points at Tony without her typical exuberance at getting the expression figured out. "That is what he said."

"No surprise there, aye, Boss?"

"Nope." Gibbs calmly answers, his eyes locked on Ziva, watching to see if he can figure out what's wrong because something clearly is. Her eyes are not even close to shining and there's no trace of a smile on her either. In fact, if he didn't know any better, he'd say she's pretty damned unhappy right about now, despite the slice of humor she's just inadvertently brought into the conversation.

"I'll go check on him at lunch." Tony says as he keeps on walking to his desk, unaware of the scrutiny the Team Leader is subjecting his teammate to.

"Tony. The same reason she's here now is the same reason you'll be here then. Work." Gibbs reminds him, as he lets go of this for now and heads to his own desk before things spiral out of hand. He'll talk to her later after she's had time to settle down.

"Boss, we gotta eat! And you know you want someone to check on him!" Tony argues.

Gibbs nods in silent agreement because he knows Tony needs to talk to Tim. The conversation drops as the work day begins.

******NCIS******

Tim awakens and allows himself to adjust slowly to the state of being fully functioning before he moves. Getting to his feet and making his way to the bathroom, he does what he needs to do and heads to the kitchen, needing some coffee. He's always been grateful that despite the typical correlation between caffeine and headaches, somehow, it's never made them worse when he's indulged in a good coffee as soon as he had the hankering for one after one of these monsters.

Sitting at Gibbs' kitchen table, he can't help but think back over this whole Mexico nightmare and what it's done to his life just recently. Being far from stupid, he realizes he has to address the Mexico issue within himself before he can do anything else. It's not going to control his life anymore or take anything else from him. He won't let it. But even an idiot can tell that saying that and making it happen aren't exactly one in the same.

Sure, he can honestly say he doesn't want to talk about it anymore – but thanks to Murphy's Law or some twisted karma he doesn't yet understand, it seems to have latched on with the tenacity of a bulldog. There's no sense in blaming Tony, much as the older man thinks there is. He has to admit that he does feel marginally better for getting everything off his chest and now no longer felt like the lone soldier on the battlefield, he also feels free of the cache of anger that these discussions of what happened in Mexico had released within him, flooding his soul.

That anger was worse than what he'd felt on the flight home back when it had first happened, because now it's found allies and substantiated substance. Tim knows that yesterday, he'd allowed it to build to a roaring inferno without even realizing it. He hadn't liked feeling like that or known how to stop it – except to beat the bag as if it were the enemy. Had he known the crap would follow him into his dreams and magnify itself, causing him to literally hurt Ziva before it was all over, well…there'll be no more of it, that's for damned sure!

Speaking of Ziva….he sighs as the question crosses his mind about what horrors are laying in wait for Ziva like this, since she won't talk about what she's been through anymore the he's been talking about the stuff in his closet. There's no way in hell, he'll let this take up even one more minute of what little time they have left together before he leaves. Maybe it's time they both did something about it – together.

Remembering a certain familiar face offering an open door, should this moment in time ever occur, he sighs. Yup, it's time. He's got a new position waiting for him and he'd be crazy and stupid to take this monster issue with him. It's not going to happen. Picking up his phone, he glances at the time, wincing at the realization that it's already ten in the morning. Quickly, he sends the first of two text messages before getting to his feet and heading back to the living room. The day's wasting and there's still lots to do.

******NCIS******

With her early lunch appointment cancelled and this time on her hands before an afternoon full of appointments, Rachel Cranston's quick to return to the office to play catch up. Once she's parked her car and gotten out, she locks the vehicle and digs her phone out while heading to the door of her building. As she walks, she turns the 'driving' mode off on her phone and checks for missed messages.

Her eyebrows travel almost up to her hairline in surprise when she sees the text message waiting for her. This text isn't one she's ever expected to get, since the person sending it has never struck her as the opening up type. Still, she's never imagined him to be made of steel, never needing an outlet or the okay to let it all out. There's actually a sense of relief for them at the sight of this text from them.

I'm ready to talk. If the offer's still open.

With unanswered questions regarding this unexpected message and the coincidental timing of it, playing on her mind, she makes her way inside. Coincidences aren't something she believes a lot in and so this new development soon has her thinking back a few hours - to her first session of the day; NCIS' Abby Scuito. That had been a long time coming and it wasn't a complete surprise; Abby asking to come back to therapy. That being said, Rachel remembers feeling very relieved about it because she's known that all of the changes have been pretty tough on the young woman who does not fare well with change.

Back when the MCRT was 'coming apart at the seams' – in Abby's words – when Tim McGee had quit the team, the Lab Rat had been all over the place with how she felt and even with what came out of her mouth. One minute she'd be in tears over her former boyfriend and lover's leaving the team and the next, she'd be seriously angry that he'd 'abandoned' them. Still, Rachel had only been able to convince Abby to talk to her for a total of five sessions then. And with each of those hours spent trying to help her unravel her own confusion, they'd left a lot of ground uncovered.

Since then, the good Doctor's been hoping and praying that things would work out for that team of people who'd loved and lost her sister – without her ever having known it beforehand. The fact that this latest text message isn't even from the expected Lab Rat, but rather, the young man at the heart of all of this concern, only serves to heighten Rachel's concern in the matter since she's come to have a great deal of respect for that rule of theirs about coincidences. Not only that, but she's been kept informed of these developments on the MCRT by Vance, who's steadily maintained over all this time, that:

'That bunch is so damned stubborn about keeping everything close to the vest, I'm half tempted to make a monthly visit with you mandatory!"

Rachel had laughed lightly at that gripe, but hadn't pushed him to actually do it. She'd taken to heart, how well the team worked together and their reluctance shown to her for such scrutiny regarding their inner selves. Her chosen way of keeping an eye on their well-being since then has been an occasional drop-in just to keep them visually reminded of her availability to them, should they ever reach the point where they feel they need her ear. Knowing, of course, that their stubbornness will keep them away from her door far more often than it will allow them to show up, she's also relied on those drop in visits to keep a visual eye on how they seemed to be doing. Unbeknown to them all, she and Ducky have continued to regularly communicate to address that very question since the M.E. has such more of a close relationship with them and can keep a sharper eye on them. Her visits have often come as a result of his advice that they would benefit greatly from being reminded of her availability to them.

Remembering that now, she actually feels a sense of relief that this person is finally reaching out for help. A twinge of concern surfaces at what might have possibly occurred for this person to have reached this point since she and Ducky never discuss particulars out of respect for each person's right to confidentiality. Settling down in her desk chair, she fires off a welcoming reply to the text message; making sure not to scare them off.

"Of course the offer's still open. How about 1 today?"

******NCIS******

With the restraint behind the wheel normally shown only in front of the boss, Tony pulls into Gibb driveway a good thirty minutes after leaving the Navy Yard, sub sandwiches and drinks already bought/paid for, sitting in the passenger seat of the agency sedan he's checked out for this trip. It's a mission that's been sanctioned since part of the reason he's doing this is to genuinely check on Tim. Gibbs and Ziva were both doing their best to bury themselves in work to take their minds off their worry about him on the heels of everything that had happened last night, but in both cases they were as obvious with their concern as Ducky had been.

The M.E. had let it be known very early this morning that he wanted an update on the younger man. Apparently, word had gotten round to him that Tony was the point man for the lunch time trip and had come straight to him. "Anthony, do let me know how Timothy is faring, won't you?"

Blinking in surprise at the older man's unexpected doubt that Tony wouldn't tell him without having to be asked, the Senior Field Agent had nodded and offered a quiet. "Sure, Ducky."

It had come as a welcome update, a little after then, when Ziva shared with them the news that Tim had sent her a text message and that he was fine. The relief in the air had been nearly palpable. The rest of the morning had flown by much quicker after that.

Now, the Senior Field Agent gets out of the car and goes around to the passenger door, opening it grabs up the sandwiches and six pack of bottled water Ducky insisted he bring for lunch and sets it up on the roof of the car. Shutting the door, he scoops them back up and heads to the house.

*****NCIS*****

The sound of several car doors being closed rouses Tim from his mini-nap and he sits up where he's at- still resting on Gibbs' sofa. Wiping a tired hand across his face, he mentally swears. The last thing he wanted to do was waste time today. He hadn't meant to fall back asleep after sending those text messages. Getting to his feet, he's made it all of six feet when the sound of his name being called out from just inside the front door, tells him who's arrived.

"Hey, Probie! Lunch!"

With a soft huff of amusement, Tim wordlessly waits for the older man to see him and lower his voice. It's not a long wait.

"Oh, hey, Hope you're hungry."

"Actually, I am. Thanks, Tony."

"No sweat. Oh, there is one thing you gotta do, though."

"What's that?"

"Talk to Ducky."

"What? No, Tony. I already told you…."

"He's worried about you, Tim. That's all" Tony argues with a touch of irritation. "Give the guy a break, will ya? Just talk to him."

With a sigh, Tim nods. "Yeah. Okay. I'm not trying to worry him."

"I know, man. I get it. You just don't wanna talk about the crap anymore. Even if the rest of us still think you should work on getting it out til it's done."

"Believe me, Tony. It is definitely done." Tim remarks with steel in his tone.

Tony looks at him silently for a minute, scrutinizing him for a better read on things "Something happen?"

Tim can't stop the flicker of emotion that crosses his face at the memory of putting his hands on his beloved Ziva the way he had. Wiping his hand across his face in an attempt to clear the image and put the emotions away, Tim shakes his head. "What's for lunch?"

Tony sighs. Obviously he's not getting more out of Tim - at least for now; unless… "Nothing until you talk to Ducky."

With a scoff, Tim gets up and heads out of the room. "Fine. I'll do it now. Not like I want time to think about what to say to him or anything, ya know?"

"You'll do fine, bro!" Tony hollers at him across the increasing distance between them. Once the younger man is gone from sight, he sits down with a pensive look on his face. Something's going on with his little brother and it's obviously not something the younger man wants to talk about. Having let Tony in on the nightmare that was Mexico, the fact that he doesn't want to talk about whatever this is, raises a red flag with Tony – but a personal one. And Tony understands enough about keeping things locked up, that he won't push. At least not today.

*****NCIS*****

Ducky watches as his Assistant heads out for lunch. He himself finds himself too preoccupied to feel hungry and so has chosen to stay here at his desk, basking in the peace and quiet. It's a golden opportunity since there is no guest presently and nothing pressing that needs to be done at the moment. He frowns as the silence is soon broken by the shrill ring of his cell phone. Rather grumpy at the disruption, he answers the call anyway. "Hello."

"Hi. Ducky."

"Timothy! "

"Tony said you were worried. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to worry anyone."

"We know that, young man. Do not fret about that. However, I do wish to hear how you're doing."

"I'm okay. Honest. I've eaten breakfast, slept most of the morning and now Tony's brought lunch. I'm okay."

"Good. Very Good."

"Ducky, I need to ask you for a really big favor."

"By all means, ask, Timothy. If there's any possible way I can grant whatever it is, I shall,"

"There is."

"I must admit I am intrigued."

"I need you to let go of it."

******NCIS******

Mindful of Tim's text message telling her that he's got his afternoon full but that he's fine, Ziva forces herself to stay at work and let Tony have the lunch hour to talk with Tim. She'll have plenty of time to talk to him tonight. The second message she'd received from him advising her that they really needed to talk tonight over dinner casts a little concern over her thoughts, but she's confident that it's a good sign, so it's a concern that's quickly cast aside as anticipation takes its place.

She's so caught up in her thoughts on this that it's a complete surprise when Gibbs sets a to-go lunch down on her desk and remains standing there watching her for a moment. Blinking, she looks up at him. "Thank you. This is very….thoughtful of you."

"Somethin' you wanna talk about?"

She smiles softly as she shakes her head momentarily. "No. I am fine."

The fact that he remains standing there for a minute longer speaks just as clearly as the trademark look on his face that silently asks her to reinforce that declaration before he'll believe it completely. She gives him what he's looking for, thankful he cares enough to worry about her this way. "Honestly, Gibbs. I am fine."

Finally convinced, Gibbs heads back to his own desk, needing something to do to occupy his mind away from his unyielding concern for Tim. The conversation he's had with Vance about this whole Mexican mess, not to mention the reports that shed little – if any, light on the subject, have left more questions than answers. Tim's report was clinical – mentioning the trip out to the desert and the scene of the crime – but made no mention of any run in with the Cartel or the bullet Abby brought back. Abby's report, made no mention of any of any of that at all. There was no mention of how she'd come to have the bullet or her accessing the NCIS database while she was in Mexico.

He spares a minute to question what had been made of that regulation having been broken. It all came down to getting answers. Speaking of answers, it's high time he gets some from the one person who's long over-due to provide them. Silently, he gets to his feet, retrieves something from his desk drawer, slides it into his shirt pocket and heads out, his stride purposeful and fast.

*****NCIS*****

There's been plenty of time left in the morning, since getting to work for Abby to get a couple of hours of actual work done with no active case at the moment. In fact she's been busy with recalibrating machines and cleaning surfaces and idle equipment while wrapped up in her thoughts. She's thought of little else as she worked, other than her morning visit with Rachel. It's helped set her world back on kilter and given her a new perspective – well, an old one freshened up again, really.

"You have to let the past go, Abby. It's not reasonable for you to expect things to remain the same – or people to remain the same for that matter."

Above everything else they talked about this morning, that one comment from Rachel is the one that has stuck. It's been on never-ending replay on her mind since she'd made it back to work. Other little tidbits have popped back into her mind periodically, among that replay; mainly reminders of apologies she needs to make and wrongs she needs to right. Eventually, she blinks and grinds her thoughts to a screeching halt. Enough. She gets it. She will fix things – with everyone. Probably one person at a time, but the point she's making to herself is that she will do it. In the quietness of her brain shutting down, the growling of her stomach is finally heard. Glancing at the clock, she's just now realized it's past time she stop and eat something.

Even though she's always in awe of his trademark sense of timing Abby's surprised to find Gibbs walking through her door at that moment, when the man should be taking some time for lunch right about now. Still, while it's always nice to get a visit from him, they've been such a rare occurrence unless there's a case in the works, that this one raises her concern.

"Gibbs?" She greets him hesitantly since she's uncertain of his reasons for coming down here.

"Abby." The man's return greeting is just as quiet but firm. He's definitely on a mission.

Okay, now, she's really worried. He only calls her by her full first name when he's really serious about whatever's on his mind. "Something wrong?"

Picking up the remote to her door, he locks it, ensuring that whatever they say will be private. Now her concern is going through the roof and it's all she can do to remain sitting down without demanding answers first. But, those two hours with Rachel this morning have calmed her substantially and she's ready to face whatever he has for her.

"Talk to me."

"About what, exactly, Gibbs?" Her confusion is as genuine and her tone is still quiet.

"Mexico."

Abby feels the air rush out of her lungs in a whoosh. Okay, she's not ready for this. Her eyes close momentarily as a rush of emotions threaten to overwhelm her. That trip was such a monster screw up on her part, mixed with such a monster of an emotional roller coaster ride for her over what Gibbs had done – over her finding out what he'd done….

"Now, Abby." Gibbs orders.

She opens her eyes – to find him watching her almost angrily. Swallowing hard, she forces herself to remain quiet as she waits for him to get to his point because she knows he soon will. The man's known for not wasting time or words.

"You left a hell of a lot out of your report."

"Gibbs, I was focused on other things." She pointedly reminds him. Her tone is quickly bordering on defensive and her eyes are darkening with rising anger.

"Don't." He warns her. He knows her well enough to know that if he doesn't rein her in, she'll be going full-steam ahead into a full-blown emotional spiel to defend herself rather than answer his actual questions. This time, he won't tolerate it. The answers are too important and long over-due.

With a sigh, she sits back in her chair and looks at him. "What do you want from me, Gibbs?"

Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulls out what he took from his desk, setting the tape recorder they commonly use for interrogations down on hers and turns it on.

"Everything."

*****NCIS******

Tony returns to the squad room, fed and somewhat feeling better in regard to how Tim's doing, yet, still concerned at how quiet and almost angry the younger man seems to have become just this morning. Still, he doesn't want to worry anyone so he puts his jovial mask on and gets back to work. Seeing the calm, reassured expression on Ziva's face makes it worthwhile. Noticing the boss is not at his desk, he frowns.

Ziva answers his silent question, tuned into his thoughts. "He has been gone for close to an hour now. But, he brought me lunch, so…"

"So, he's had his. Hmm. Wonder where he is. We don't have a fresh case, do we?"

"No. We do not. But, I would not be too concerned, Tony. I am sure he is around here somewhere."

"I'm not concerned, Ziva. Just curious."

"Ah. I see. Is it not curiosity that kills?"

"The cat. Yeah, you have that one right."

"Why does it kill a cat, Tony?"

"Oh, man. Are we really going there again?" Tony asks in mock irritation. He looks over at her and finds that he has to laugh at the expression on her face that clearly says she's pulling his leg.

With a smirk, Ziva settles her attention back to the cold case in front of her, leading Tony to do likewise. The Senior Field Agent glances over at the long silent Wilson, already back at work, going through the cold case in front of him. Settling down in his own desk, he does the same and peace and quiet to return to the squad room.

******NCIS******

"That's quite an ordeal from start to finish." Rachel remarks with genuine awe and respect as she keeps her eyes focused on the man sitting across her desk from her. "Thank you for letting me in."

Tim nods without speaking.

"What about this whole ordeal has you the most upset, Tim?" Rachel asks quietly. "Can you pinpoint it?" Even as she probes for the answer in an effort to help him, she struggles with addressing him as such, without his Agent status, as she's gotten accustomed to doing. But he's asked that of her and with it being such a small request, she can't help but attempt to comply since it seems to help him settle into opening up to her. Her focus is on what's brought him here to her and getting him to unload as much – or as little – as he wants.

For the past forty minutes, from just five feet away, in the relative security of the Queen Anne chair in Rachel's office, his posture stiff with unresolved tensions and stress, Tim has quietly relayed the entire situation to her from the what happened to Gibbs' family – all the way to what had happened over this past weekend. He's never told anyone that he'd long ago put the intimate pieces together that only Abby, Ducky and Gibbs knew about the connection between Gibbs and the Cartel. It feels very freeing to be able to talk about it now.

Tim's not sure if it's being able to get long hidden untouchable emotions and information out or if it's the deep-seated hope that letting it all out now – to someone not close to it all – will drive the nightmares away for good, that has him feeling this relieved. At least he was, until Rachel posed her question. Now, he can't seem to stop the sliver of rage that tries to grab hold and he gets to his feet, striding to the large window in her office for the space to think,

Watching Tim take himself over to her window while trying to find the answer to her question, Rachel pauses in her thought process. Is he looking for the answer or is he searching for something to say that will take them off-course so he won't have to answer her? Knowing that all she can do is wait and see; she sits back in her chair and watches him; using one part of her mind to think back on what's he's just told her, while the other part keeps an eye on how he's doing. The fact that this story – for Tim – began nine months ago and by extension, truly began over thirty years ago and involves the man's boss at both ends of it–- well, that in itself is as mind-boggling as it is tragic. Personal tragedy and work chaos thrown together with a 30 year time span to confuse the mess. It's a wonder this is the first she's hearing of it. She's certainly hadn't heard Abby reveal anything about it, well not in this great of detail – and only just this morning.

Pulling herself up short, she glances at the time and quickly pulls her phone out and sends a silent text message to her secretary to reschedule the rest of her afternoon appointments. When she's done that, she slips her phone back into the pocket of her doctor's jacket. Her timing is impeccable as she's just in time to see Tim finally exhale, as if he's reached a decision.

"Not really anything to think about." He says without turning around.

"What do you mean, Tim?"

"The answer to your question."

"But it's taken you nearly ten minutes to speak on it."

"Had to put the rest of it away, I guess." He suggests with a definite question in his tone. He knows he doesn't understand it all himself and probably never will. That rage certainly hadn't been expected. "Then again, I should be used to that by now, right?"

Turning around now, he sits on the window sill and looks over at her. "The answer to your question is how this is affecting Ziva."

"So then you're not most angry at having to go through that without backup or emotional support? Not at not having an outlet for it before now or at not being able to talk to your boss about any of it? Watching Abby go on as if nothing happened out there; as if you hadn't had to offer your life up for hers?"

"Not as much as what this has done to Ziva." Tim's answer is firm and without hesitation as he looks over at Rachel.

"I'm not sure I understand why that is, Tim. Ziva's not the one having nightmares. She's not the one who was so angry she had to go punch the hell out of a boxing bag until her fingers needed first aid and her head gave in to a full blown migraine." Rachel reminds him pointedly.

"But she is the one I put my hands on." Tim gets to his feet and paces now, his residual guilt visible in the otherwise empty space he's wearing a path in the carpet through.

Rachel breathes out on a quiet sigh. Of course! She should have seen this coming. Being the gentleman that he is, shoving Ziva the way that he had – completely by accident or not, has really been eating away at him – especially since he's so in love with her. He's devastated that he's done this to her.

Still, there has to be more to the reason than that. Has to be deeper for this to be bothering this normally unflappable young man to this point. "What makes this such a tremendous sin Tim? You didn't hurt her and she's already forgiven you. That is what you said."

Tim stops his pacing as he nears the window and glances back over at Rachel for a silent moment before he breathes out raggedly. Turning his head back to the window, he quietly gives her the explanation she's looking for.

"Ziva's been through her own hell! Many times over. With everything she had to do as a Mossad Operative under that….her father…. all the times he's sent her out to do something dangerous and never looked to see if she was alive, being tortured or rap…. or dead? The fact that we found her being held prisoner, instead of her father? The way that bastard sent one of her friends to lay the blame at her feet for a murder she didn't commit? The last time she went on a mission for him …." Tim drops his thought and takes a minute to pull himself together, breathing in and out as his hands clench into fists and relax repeatedly at his sides.

Finally, after a few minutes, he turns and walks slowly back the chair and sits back down. His eyes soon find and remain fixed on the floor two feet in front of him as he quietly speaks. "I was never supposed to be someone in her life that would put his hands on her! I was never supposed to be another man in her life that abandons her, either."

Hearing the abject remorse and guilt and wanting to address it, Rachel drops her pen and gets to her feet, walking out around her desk and coming to sit in the chair beside the one Tim currently occupies. She leans forward, her arms resting on her thighs so that she can speak quietly and encouragingly. "You were already convinced that accepting this job transfer makes you a horrible person because it means that will moving away from Ziva significantly, possibly permanently."

Tim nods in the time Rachel pauses to await his reaction.

"And now, you think that because you accidently pushed Ziva away while still in the midst of that nightmare - that you've suddenly become unforgivable and even more of a horrible person."

"Sounded more reasonable in my head." Tim mutters.

Rachel sits up straight and sits back but remains silent for a moment as she processes it all. Without giving any details, he's already enlightened her as to Ziva's own nightmarish past – one he's tried desperately not to bring any memories of back to her – in anything he does or says. She knows he's got to be afraid he's set some nightmare of her own on track and that he's not sure what to do about it. That fear is written all over him when he speaks Ziva's name. She smiles softly with encouragement as she finally addresses what he's just said.

"I'm sure it did. But, Tim, you cannot expect not to have these traumatic situations come back to your mind on occasion. You have to know that Ziva understands that as well after all she's been through."

"It's been almost a year! And I was fine until…" Tim objects angrily, his eyes comin up off the floor to find hers.

"Until Tony talked you into letting him in."

"It's not Tony's fault."

"I agree. I am happy to hear that you know that. Let's go back to my original question. You said that you're most upset about how this is affecting Ziva. What about what was done to you, Tim? Let's focus on that for a minute. What about all of that angers you the most?"

Tim's answer is immediate and without hesitation as he green eyes filled with an emotion that's on overload at the moment.

"Gibbs."