Chapter 24

Instantly, Tim was on the alert. Whoever was coming in wasn't bothering to be quiet...but why not knock? Jethro whined softly at him, but Tim silenced him quickly.

"No, Jethro. Shut up."

He didn't want to risk being found...not until he was armed. He wished that he hadn't left his gun at NCIS. He suddenly felt very vulnerable. How stupid was he, giving up a weapon. It was an act of near lunacy. He crept toward the house, glad that the kitchen was right there. Inside, he slunk along the counters to the knife block. Silently, he slid a serrated edged knife out of the block and then snuck to the door. Whoever was there had not moved very quickly.

Jethro nudged his leg.

"Stop it," he hissed. "You want to get me killed?"

Slowly, Tim edged his way through the hall toward the front of the house, knife at the ready. Then, suddenly, Jethro barked excitedly and dashed forward.

"Jethro!" Tim called, heart in his throat.

"McGee?"

Instantly, all Tim's worry, his tiredness, everything, it all disappeared beneath the rising tide of anger at hearing the voice of his former boss. He tightened his grip on the knife and smiled coldly.

"Breaking and entering is a crime, Gibbs," he said.

"You didn't lock the door."

"I must have."

"Nope."

"Fine. You can close it on your way out and I'll lock it after you leave. I don't want any dangerous invaders."

"Is that what I am?"

Tim laughed. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on you."

"How noble. How long did it take Abby to find me?"

"A day."

"Did you ask her to do it?" Tim asked, not sure why he was bothering.

"No. Vance did."

"Figures. You've checked on me. I'm fine. Go away."

"Not yet. Why don't we talk first?"

"Nothing to talk about."

"Come on, McGee. Why are you hiding from me?"

"I don't hide from anyone," Tim retorted and walked out into the foyer where Gibbs was standing with Jethro wagging his tail at him. "Traitor," he muttered.

Jethro whimpered and his tail drooped.

"Not his fault."

"Never is anyone's fault but mine, is it."

"You planning on using that on me?" Gibbs asked, pointing at the knife.

"Thinking about it...but I don't want to get blood on Matt's floor. That wouldn't be very nice."

"Killing me would?"

"In my current worldview," Tim said, not giving an inch.

"Then, you're definitely not fine."

"Why? Because I'm not kowtowing to the great Gibbs?"

"No, because you're condoning general murder."

"Not general. Just yours."

Gibbs inclined his head. "Point taken. Let me ask you a question."

"No."

"Where did you get the idea for Thomas?"

Tim laughed. It was not because he thought it was a funny question. In fact, the laugh startled Jethro who whimpered at the sound.

Tim ignored that. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling and threw his arms out, knife still in his hand.

"Now, he asks!" he shouted. "Now, he asks! When I don't care if he knows or not!" Abruptly, Tim stopped laughing. "The time is long past when I wanted you to know that, Gibbs."

"I guessed that."

"Then, why bother asking?"

"You're the one who thinks I'm incompetent. I'd think you enjoy the chance to show me up."

"Didn't take much. How long did it take IT to get your computer to stop talking?"

"A while. I wasn't there for most of it."

Tim smiled. "Were you with Vance?"

"Did you plan on that?"

"Well, I gambled. It was a good gamble as it turned out. I'll bet all of NCIS knows now."

"More or less."

"Good."

"Why?"

"They should know...exactly what the MCRT really is."

"What is that?"

"Nothing but a bastion of stupidity and corruption. I thought about doing more than just messing with your computer. I could have leaked information about things you've done over the years, things you've had me do. Times when I've broken the law at your orders."

"Why didn't you?"

Tim didn't answer. "Is that everything, Gibbs? It's late."

"You didn't answer my first question."

"What does it matter now?"

"Maybe not at all. I'd like to see how truly incompetent I am, though."

Tim shook his head and laughed in disbelief. "I can't believe I ever thought you were someone to admire. You're just as much of an idiot as DiNozzo. ...only worse because you're supposed to be intelligent. ...and you're just like all the rest."

Gibbs patted Jethro on the head and then walked toward Tim who backed up, brandishing the knife slightly. He didn't really think that Gibbs would hurt him. Did he?

You can't trust him. You can't trust any of them.

Gibbs simply walked past him...and Tim followed, almost against his will. What he wanted was for Gibbs to leave...right?

That's right. Get rid of him.

Gibbs walked into the kitchen and perched on a stool.

"Where did Thomas come from?" he asked, his voice eminently reasonable. ...so much so that Tim wanted to hit him.

"Do you really want to know or is this just you trying to save face?"

"Save face? From whom?"

Tim stalked to the knife block and replaced the knife he'd been holding...in spite of the fact that he wanted a weapon in his hand. He didn't turn around. His hands gripped the edge of the counter tightly...until his knuckles were white.

"Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now?"

"I'm getting an idea."

"No! You couldn't possibly know. You couldn't possibly truly know how much I hate you and everything about you. I want to beat you senseless. Just hearing your voice makes me want to kill you. Tear you apart."

"Why?"

"That's why."

Silence.

"Because you don't have the slightest clue why I hate you...why I hate you all."

"So? Thomas?"

"I thought you guys might have asked at the beginning. I spent so much time making sure everything was right, and I assumed that one of you would take the time to review my methods. After all, it was my first real undercover mission. If you had been responsible, you would have checked. If you had, you'd have seen the mistake I made."

"Mistake?"

"Yep. Maybe I shouldn't have waited for you guys to think about someone other than yourselves. Maybe I should have asked myself, but you had made it clear you didn't think I should be doing this. Tony and Ziva were still putting me down every other comment. I didn't want this to be yet another opportunity to make poor wussy McGee look bad. ...but I know now, that I made a mistake, one that not a single one of you bothered trying to figure out." Tim straightened and turned around, glad that the island was between him and Gibbs. "I'm Thomas. Thomas is me."

"You're not Thomas, McGee."

Tim gave a derisive laugh. "Oh, please. Don't pretend you understand. You don't. If you did, you'd never have tried to say that. I am Thomas...because of who Thomas is."

"What do you mean, then?"

Tim let heavy sarcasm saturate his voice and he clapped his hands together like a kindergarten teacher. "Okay, class! Let's tell a story, shall we? Set the time machine for...sixteen...seventeen years ago. There was this kid. He was scrawny, nearly a genius...and a magnet for bullies. He must have had it tattooed in very special ink on his forehead and the back of his neck because no matter where he went with his family, the bullies zeroed in on him. It wasn't ever really bad until he was bumped up a couple of grades. Then, his intelligence became an insult to his fellow students. They took it upon themselves to make sure he knew just how much of a loser he was. It wasn't ever serious, just constant, unending, interminable." Tim's voice lost the sarcasm and filled with anger and bitterness instead. "They tormented him for the years of high school, not letting anything get in the way of knocking down the geek. I think you can probably guess who that unfortunate soul was, can't you, Gibbs?"

Tim waited. Gibbs said nothing.

"Well? I'm waiting for answer."

"It was you."

"Very good, Gibbs! You figured it out! Well done! You get a gold star!" Tim said sarcastically.

Jethro came into the kitchen and whined softly. Tim looked at him and sighed. The German Shepherd came over to him, head down. Tim squatted on the floor and petted him for a moment.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Jethro," he said. "It's not your fault you have the name you do. Why don't you go outside and scare the frogs away?"

Jethro's ears perked back up and he trotted to the screen door. Tim opened it to let him out.

"So...where was I? Oh, yeah. End of high school. It was a wonderful time...in some ways. Our intrepid geek had been accepted to MIT, but because of recent family events, money was tight. He had a scholarship, but it would take a summer of hard work to make enough money to pay for all his living expenses. Still, he did it, and he went off to MIT, secure in the knowledge that he would be in a place where he'd make friends. After all...everyone was smart. It was MIT. He'd fit in finally. He'd be with people like him. Do you think it worked? Do you, Gibbs?"

Gibbs never looked away from Tim's face. In fact, his attention was so total that Tim felt slightly uneasy. He didn't like Gibbs staring at him like that.

"I'm guessing it didn't work," he said, calmly.

"You're right. It didn't. You see...this kid didn't know how to interact with people who weren't his family, his teachers or jerks trying to make him miserable. He was awkward, and so when he went there, he was so eager to be accepted and a part of the groups that he told them how smart he was, he talked about what he could do. He showed them his skills and abilities. They rejected him. They didn't bully him. They were too mature for that. They simply excluded him, ignored him. He wasn't allowed to be a part of these groups of students. Do you see what was coming next?"

"I'll bet you're about to tell me."

"The problem was that this stupid teenager fell back on the attitudes he'd cultivated to comfort himself in high school. He had told himself that the reason the bullies wouldn't leave him alone was because, in their hearts, they knew that he was actually a better person and they couldn't tolerate it. So they had to bully him to keep him lower than they were. He was better and they knew he was better. It was the same at MIT, it seemed. Because he was a bit younger and smarter than the rest of them, they couldn't tolerate it. He wrapped that arrogance around himself as a protection...and instead of trying to be a part of the groups, he actively shunned them. All of them. No one was worth knowing. Does this sound familiar to you?"

Another long silence.

"I asked you a question, Gibbs," Tim snapped. "Does it sound familiar?"

"Yes."

"Good. It should. ...but you see...something happened in the second year at MIT. My parents had sympathized with what had happened and tried to help me see that I was making some mistakes, and I agreed to try. I went back...and failed again. I decided to give up on that. Basically, my whole life fell apart. I didn't make enough money during the summer, but I didn't let my mom and dad know that...because we'd been sued. Money was really tight what with Dad's medical bills and the legal fees. So, I made other arrangements. I figured I could get through a year eating a lot less. Who really needed three meals a day? One was enough...one stretched out. I took more classes than I should have because I was worried about not being able to come back if we needed more money. I didn't go home at all. Greyhound was too expensive. I was near a total breakdown. ...and someone stepped in."

"Your friend, Matt?"

"Very good, Gibbs. You're learning," Tim said sarcastically.

Jethro began scratching at the door to come back in. Tim walked over and opened it.

"Any frogs, Jethro?"

Jethro barked at him and panted.

"Come on in. I suppose you've done your civic duty." He refilled Jethro's water dish, crouched by Jethro as he lapped and panted, and then looked up at Gibbs again. "It took more than a year to get me to decide to let go of all that. I didn't want to. Matt made the effort and by the time he got married and graduated, I was making friends of my own, not just his friends who tolerated my existence. I wasn't perfect, not by any means...and I'm sure you know that the arrogance about my intelligence is not dead." Tim stood up. "It would help if you all weren't so dang stupid."

"And so...where does Thomas fit into all this?"

"You can't see it? You really are stupid!" Tim took a deep breath. "Thomas is the person I would have been if Matt hadn't tried to help me out. One person caring enough to ask and to persist in it. That's what it took. If not for Matt...I would have been Thomas. Hating the world, knowing I was better than everyone else...and totally uninterested in forming attachments with people. People are stupid and not worth the time. They exist to be used. I thought about what kind of person would be able to get in with these people we were investigating. I read the files we had on Jewel. I knew I couldn't be a convict. I didn't need Tony and Ziva telling me how incapable an actor I was. A convict wouldn't work. I needed someone real...someone authentic. I needed to be myself." Tim laughed. "So that's what I did."

"You became yourself?"

Jethro finished his water and settled by the door, clearly anxious but Tim ignored him for the moment.

"That's what I did when I went undercover as Thom E. Gemcity for about ten seconds. To become Thomas, I simply sat down and extrapolated. It was easy. ...and it scared me how easy it was. I figured that when I showed you all the background, the identity, you'd ask me questions. I figured that even if you were sulking about my assignment, you'd still do your jobs and check. You didn't. So...I decided that even if it was a mistake, I'd just keep with it. I knew I could be Thomas...because I already almost was. It didn't take much...and as things kept going the way they did, being Thomas was even easier. Thomas did all those things. I didn't...but even that didn't work."

"Why didn't you tell us about those things you did?"

Tim glared. "Why should I?"

"We were your backup, McGee."

The absolute injustice of that statement made Tim's already simmering anger begin to boil. He turned and kicked Jethro's water dish so hard it flew across the kitchen and splashed water all over the wall.

"I never had backup!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "You were never backup for me! Not once!" He kicked the island. "When I was upset about having to have sex with Jewel for the first time, all Tony did was make fun of me! When I told you about what I'd done, taking ecstasy, you threatened me! When I was coming to make a report, I heard you all talking. Everything was prefaced by, 'I didn't think McGee could do it.' ...as if it was all a big shock that I was anywhere near competent! You weren't backup! You were there just waiting for me to mess up! That's not what backup is! Every step of the way, I was on my own...only with an audience there hoping I'd screw up so they could be the heroes!"

"We didn't want you to mess up, McGee."

"Oh, yes you did! You wanted it so you could be right and Vance could be wrong! Tony and Ziva wanted me to mess up so they could rearrange the world to fit in with what they thought was right. McGee doesn't do undercover. McGee doesn't do the dangerous stuff. He's too weak. He's too inexperienced. He's not...he's not Tony or Ziva! That means he'll fail. He has to fail!"

Tim stared at Gibbs, but Gibbs said nothing.

"Well, I didn't fail! I did everything I was supposed to do...including killing the woman I was having sex with to save your miserable lives! ...and what happens? Do I get a good job or too bad? No, I get DiNozzo the Village Idiot cracking a joke! I get you taking my gun. I get everyone questioning every move I make as if I'm a bomb ready to go off!"

"You didn't tell all this to the shrink debriefing you."

"I don't want or need to have a shrink tell me what's wrong. I know what's wrong...and I don't care! If I were to go to the mandatory therapy sessions, they'd try to tell me that I should give up and let go of my anger. That's what they always say...well, I don't want to. I don't care if it's not healthy. I don't care if it means giving up my job. I don't care about any of that. I am tired of letting people walk all over me. I am tired of being the one who is wrong. I am tired of you. I am tired of you and Tony and Ziva and everything about you. I want to hate you. I want to be mad. I don't want to be reasonable. If that means quitting NCIS, good. I've done it. If that means cutting off all ties to people there, fine. Good. I'm glad. There is nothing about you that I find tolerable in the slightest. All I want is to hate you...and I've got that. So...you said I'm not fine? Perhaps not by a conventional definition...but by my definition, I have everything I want."

"What are you going to do, then?"

Tim laughed. "I don't know! I don't care! I'm here for free for a few months. My family is away; so I don't have to justify myself to them. ...oh, eventually, I'll run out of money and have to figure something out, but I don't care. I tried it the world's way, and I don't like it. The few friends I have are not worth the aggravation of people like you."

"So that's it then? You've decided to be Thomas?"

Tim laughed again. He let the laughter ring out and savored the angry sound of it. "You decided that for me, Gibbs. I've simply allowed that it's the best option. After all, didn't Tony and Ziva both say that Thomas was the better person? They should be happy. They're getting what they want. All the intelligence, hatred and loathing of Thomas Allen McKay...in the convenient container of Timothy McGee. I've made my feelings crystal clear. You couldn't possibly have misinterpreted them. You might find some extra messages over the next few days, but you got the gist of it already."

"What about Abby?"

"What about her?"

"Do you hate her, too?"

"Only by association. It's best if she stays away. If she wants Jethro back, I can oblige. He'd probably be happier with her than with me."

"He certainly doesn't look happy right now."

Tim turned his head toward the door. Jethro was crouched in the corner, looking as though he didn't know whether to hide or to attack.

"Well, he's had to deal with someone who is irrationally angry. It can be difficult."

"What about Ducky? What about Jimmy? Vance?"

"What? You think by naming people who haven't demonstrated their utter inferiority that I might change my mind? Not likely. I told you. Friends aren't worth people like you. If I have to give up some good people to get rid of the likes of you, it's better than the alternative."

Gibbs stood up and Tim backed away.

"You afraid of me, McGee?"

"I'm not afraid of anyone."

"You look like you're afraid."

"Well, then, I guess you're just stupid for thinking that, then, aren't you."

"Am I?"

"Get out of here, Gibbs. If I see you or anyone else from NCIS here without invitation, I'll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing. This is private property and you're not wanted."

"McGee..."

Tim immediately overrode him. "Look! I don't want you to apologize! ...even if I thought you capable of doing it. I don't want to hear from you! I don't want to see you! I don't even want to remember that you exist! I'd rather wash away all memory of ever knowing Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the worst team leader who ever lived, a man who puts himself and what he wants ahead of everything else...including the law when it suits him. You say semper fi, but what are you faithful to? Do you even know?"

"Do you?"

"Yes, I know. I'm faithful to one thing now. Me. No one else is worth the effort."

"You're right about one thing, McGee."

"Oh? Only one?"

"It's long past the time when there was anything I could do."

"Glad you've caught up, Gibbs. Have a nice life...or better yet, don't."

Gibbs turned and walked away, Tim followed him, if only to make sure that he left.

He did...and he never even looked back. Tim closed the front door, locked it...and remembered to turn on the alarm. Then, he went back to the kitchen. Jethro was still in the corner.

"Jethro, I'm not mad at you," he said. "Animals are light years ahead of human beings. We're lower than pond scum."

Jethro got up and trotted over to Tim who knelt down beside him.

"I shouldn't have kicked your water dish. That wasn't fair to you. I should have kicked Gibbs instead. Do you want to go to someone else? I won't make you stay here."

Jethro barked softly and licked Tim's face.

"Don't do that, please...but I'm glad you're not abandoning me, too. I'm going to bed. You coming?"

Tim stood and Jethro followed him up the stairs.

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

"...so Tim still hasn't called you?" Matt asked.

Sam sighed. "No. Not since he left a message last week...and his number isn't in service anymore."

"Really? I hadn't tried to call him. Well, he's at my place...if you want to go and see him."

"I don't know. I keep hoping he'll call on his own. It's not like him to leave a message and then nothing."

"He wasn't acting like himself, Sam. Maybe he really does need time to unwind."

"Tim doesn't really unwind. He either lets it go or holds onto it."

"I wish I could help you more."

"Oh, no! Not at all. You're on vacation and certainly not responsible for my son."

"Still, he is my friend."

"Don't worry. If Tim hasn't called by the end of the week, we'll make a trip to see him. Thanks for your help, Matt. As always, we're in your debt."

"No. You're not. I just wanted to help."

"You have. Thanks, Matt. Bye."

"Bye, Sam."

Sam hung up and sighed again.

"Nothing?" Naomi asked.

"Not since they left. I wish I knew why Tim was being this way. Matt only said that Tim felt he'd done some things that he wasn't sure of while undercover. He did call and talk to Sarah, but she said that she was worried about him, too. If he doesn't call us, we'll go this weekend."

"I can't believe Tim would quit NCIS and not tell us."

"We'll have to give him a little longer, Naomi. He's our son, but he's also a grown man and able to make his own decisions."

Naomi sat down and gave a worried smile. "I'm just afraid that he's not really making the decisions himself."

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

Tim woke up in a blind panic at three in the morning.

He went down to the pool and watched the frogs drown.