Chapter 31

James pulled another deck chair over to where Tim was sitting.

"First, we're going to lay out some ground rules."

"Oh really? And what might those rules be?" Tim asked sarcastically. ...but there was a cutting edge missing from his remark. Tim was still afraid, was still tense...and he was trying to cover that up.

"This is going to be a tit-for-tat, quid pro quo discussion. I will ask you a question. You will answer it. You will ask me a question. I will answer it. There are no holds barred on the questions being asked. Every question must be answered."

"Are you going to follow your own rules?"

"Of course. In fact, you can go first, if you'd like. ...but this quid pro quo applies across the board. That is both a promise and a warning, Timothy."

"Whatever."

"Would you like to start or would you like me to start?"

Tim stood up. "I have to let Jethro out first."

"Very well, but you will come right back here."

Tim stiffened.

"You promised," James reminded him pointedly.

No reply, but Tim walked to the sliding door, opened it, and when Jethro came streaking out, he hesitated and then returned to his seat beside the pool. He watched his dog running around, gamboling across the lawn.

"Do you lie a lot?" he asked.

"In general or are you referring to specific situations?"

"I thought you said you'd answer any question."

"And I will, but I need to understand before I can answer accurately."

"In general."

"I try not to, but I do lie when I think the occasion calls for it."

"Can you be more specific?"

"If you want to go into specifics on my side, then you have to be willing to go into specifics on your side. Are you willing to do that?"

Tim was silent.

"Is it my turn or are you trying to decide?"

Tim's eyes moved away. "Your turn."

James smiled. "Who is Thomas to you?"

"How do you know about him?"

"Don is my friend who asked for my help, Timothy. Do you really think he wouldn't explain anything? Who is Thomas to you?"

"He's a made-up..."

"Honesty," James said, interrupting.

"He's a made-up identity I created from how I thought I could have turned out...how I should have turned out."

James nodded. "Your turn."

Tim looked at him in surprise but covered quickly. "Why are you here?"

"Because Don asked for my help. Why don't you want any help?"

"Because I'm not interested in it. Why do you care?"

"Because you remind me of people I've tried to help before. Why wouldn't you want help?"

"Because it's stupid to think that it would do any good. Have you ever screwed up an undercover operation before?"

"Oh, yes. That's why I'm an instructor now rather than an operative. My cover was blown on a rather important case and I would have to get a new face grafted over my current features in order to work undercover again. Do you want to be like you are now?"

"Doesn't matter. It's what I've chosen."

"You're not answering the question. Is this what you want?"

"You said we didn't have to be specific," Tim retorted angrily. "My answer is that it doesn't matter. You don't have any right to tell me that it's not a good enough answer!"

"Very well. Your turn."

"How did you screw up so bad that you had to give up your job?"

"I honestly can't remember all the details, but I had a piece of my cover that didn't fit right. It led to my discovery. I almost didn't make it out alive. Do you like your dog?"

"What?"

"Do you like your dog? Jethro, I believe his name is?"

"Yeah."

James smiled. "Your turn."

"What kind of a stupid question is that?"

"Curiosity. My turn."

"Hey! That's not fair!"

"You asked a question, a question for which you wanted an answer. It is completely fair." James dared Tim to challenge him.

He didn't. He glared and clenched his jaw but he said nothing.

"What is in your nightmares that frightens so much that you awaken screaming?"

The anger faded and Tim looked away. James waited for a minute or two. Still nothing.

"Remember the rules."

Tim's voice, when he spoke, was very different. It was tired, not angry, not afraid...just tired.

"Not much. Mostly me. Mirrors. People chasing me. Shattering glass. Guns. Just nightmares. Have you ever killed someone...on purpose?"

"Yes. More than I might wish I had. Have you?"

"Yes. Why do you say more than you wish you had?"

"Because killing isn't something I enjoy. I have only done it when it was necessary. Even when it was, I wished that there was another way other than taking someone's life. Have you regretted taking a person's life?"

"Yes."

Tim said nothing more for a long time. James waited. He didn't kid himself that this much more mellow version of Tim would last. He was too tired to be angry for the moment, but this despondency was as dangerous as the rage was.

"Are you married?"

"No. Do you date?"

"Not anymore. Did you get a divorce?"

"No. She died. Eleven years ago. Why don't you date?"

"I'm not interested. Did you kill her?"

James almost laughed at the sad attempt to get a rise out of him. "No. She had pancreatic cancer. Nothing we could do about it. Why would you ask if I killed my wife?"

"Just wondering. Did you like going undercover?"

"That's an interesting question. I certainly like the results of it...but no, undercover work was simply something at which I excelled. It was not something I enjoyed. I didn't deal with the stress very well. Sometimes, I got ulcers. I don't really miss it. Did you like going undercover?"

"No. I hated it. What are you expecting from this?"

"To open your eyes. Why are you trying to pretend that you don't care?"

"I'm not pretending. I don't. I don't care what happens now. Why do you think I'm pretending?"

"Because you're still alive. Because when your shower exploded, you went somewhere you could feel safe, not somewhere you could die. Why don't you try to save the frogs?"

"Because they're stupid. They won't stop coming no matter how hard I try. I'll bet even the ones that get away come back for more and drown for their trouble. What's the point?"

"Saving an innocent creature who doesn't know that some water is bad. Why do you hate your team?"

"Because they're all idiots who only thought about themselves and didn't bother trying to help me when I wanted it. They only cared when I forced them to open their eyes. Why are you wasting your time on me?"

"Because I don't see it as a waste. How did you force them?"

Tim smiled nastily. "I punched Tony in the face. Served him right. I quit and didn't tell them. I screwed up their computers so they had to type in what I thought of them in order to access their files. Why don't you see it as a waste? Your life that boring?"

"I spent hours today holding you down. How is that boring?"

"You spent hours holding me down. How is that not boring?"

"Because I'm trying to save a life. That's never boring."

Tim laughed at him.

"What's so funny?"

"You thinking you're going to save me. That's hilarious. If I had wanted to be saved, I would have let it happen. I don't want to be saved. How much longer is this going to go on?"

"How much longer do you want it to?"

"I don't want it to go on at all."

"We're going to do this again tomorrow. If you want to stop for now, that's fine."

"Good. We're done."

James stood up and turned to walk inside. He didn't see Tim's foot.

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

"Ducky?"

Ducky paused on his way out of NCIS. He was anxious to get back and find out how the day had gone. He had little hope that it had gone well, but he did want to know if it had gone badly.

"Yes, Jethro?"

"Can we talk?"

"About what?"

"McGee."

"Oh, is he worthy of your time now?" Ducky asked.

"Duck, he said he didn't want to see any of us and that he wished us dead."

"And that means you can no longer feel any degree of concern? Certainly, you're not required to do so, but I would have thought that seven years of acquaintance, plus knowledge of the circumstances would help to at least ameliorate any ill will you might feel."

There was a long pause.

"Jethro, I can think of three reasons why you might wish to speak to me about Timothy: guilt, regret, or anger. Which is it?"

"Only one?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm fairly certain that there could only be one that predominates. Which is it?"

"I think guilt and regret are pretty much the same."

"No. They're not. Guilt is about you. Regret is about the other person. Anger is also mostly about yourself."

Another pause.

"Quickly, Jethro," Ducky said impatiently. "Unlike yourself, I have not given up on trying to save Timothy from himself."

"I haven't!" Gibbs said with a little heat, but then corrected himself. "I have...but not because I want to, Ducky."

"Then, why?"

"I screwed up."

"Yes. How is that relevant now?"

Gibbs actually shuffled his feet a little.

"I helped cause the current situation. I think it's probably relevant."

"Granted. Why are you telling me this? Do you think that it's a surprise to me?"

"I was trying to move on since that seemed to be the only option."

Ducky sighed. "Jethro, there's a difference between moving on and willful apathy. I'm not saying that you should have been trying to talk to Timothy more than you did. I don't think it would have helped matters...although leaving him completely alone was a horrible error on my part. I didn't understand how deep his mental distress went."

"I did."

"What?"

"I didn't tell you everything he said to me."

"What did you leave out?"

"He told me that all he wanted out of his life now was to hate me."

Ducky sighed. "Yes, that fits. He has cut himself off from everyone...including himself. I asked a friend to come and speak with him. I don't think the odds are especially good that it will work, but it can't hurt to try."

"You didn't call any of us."

"Because Timothy still hates you. Your presence would only have made things worse."

Ducky started to walk away and then he heard a very soft laugh.

"What?"

"'The weed of crime bears bitter fruit.' McGee put that on my computer as the background, along with a pair of eyes."

"It's still there?"

"I don't know how to change it," Gibbs said with a slight smile. "He's right, though. Look at the bitter fruit that came from all this."

"Yes, indeed. Look at all this chaos has wrought. We have all been torn asunder by Timothy's breakdown. ...as he probably intended, an idea pointed out to me by Mr. Palmer. He is no longer content with his own destruction. He wants to destroy those he blames as well. ...I suppose we'll have to thwart him on that score."

"Hasn't he already?"

"He's weakened the bonds a bit, perhaps...but ignoring the problem won't make it go away, Jethro. Sometimes, staying silent is not a symbol of wisdom. Now, I have to go. It's long drive back up to Maryland."

"You're staying there?"

"For a few days...until he tries to throw us out physically."

"Good luck."

"Timothy will need it." Ducky turned away again, but then paused and looked back. "Jethro...you don't have to give up on him in order to move on. You can keep hoping but still accept reality as it is."

Gibbs said nothing and Ducky continued on his way.

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

When Ducky arrived at the house, he was surprised to see Tim asleep on the floor...soaking wet. When James came into the room, he was only slightly drier.

"James...what on earth–?"

James put a finger to his lips. "Shh...don't wake him up." He smiled. "He's had a hard day."

"What happened?"

James gestured for them to go into the kitchen where he was cooking dinner.

"What happened?" Ducky asked again.

"Well, let's see. I spent more than two hours pinning Timothy to the deck chair after he tried to take a swing at me. Then, we talked for a while. Then, he tripped me and knocked me into the pool. I reciprocated and knocked him into the pool and then kept him there for another hour, dunking him every time he tried to get away. Then, I forced him to take care of Jethro and play with him for a little while. He tried to push me into the pool again after that and I again shoved him in, leading to another hour in the pool. I then let him out. He came inside and fell asleep on the floor. I haven't bothered to wake him. Any sleep he gets at this point is a good thing."

Ducky felt his mouth open in embarrassment and horror, but James only laughed.

"I've had worse, Don. Breaking down his sense of his own perfection could lead to him asking for help. ...or it could solidify his sense of worthlessness...which is surely lurking only barely beneath all of his anger and hatred. I would bet that at least half of the hatred is actually directed at himself...whether he'll admit it or not."

"I'm so sorry, James."

"No, Don. This is what you wanted me for. It's what I'm doing...but I think you owe me a real vacation after this. I'll sleep like a log tonight."

"Let me finish dinner. You can get cleaned up if you like."

"Oh, I've showered off all the chlorine. I just was a bit quick getting dressed in case Timothy woke up."

"I didn't think he would try to attack you."

"I'm attacking him...figuratively at least. It doesn't surprise me. Don, he's just barely on this side of sanity. He can't think of any other way to get me to shut up. Physical violence is his best and only option."

"Did you get him to eat at all?"

"Unfortunately no. I was too busy laying down the law."

Ducky laughed, but he felt very uneasy. James noticed.

"Don, this is not going to be easy."

"Was there any progress at all?"

"Some. Not much...and not enough. If I can get through to him at all, it will take days of this. Hopefully, I've made it clear enough to him that I won't tolerate his behavior. If so, then the rest of our discussions can go more smoothly...if no less full of fireworks."

Ducky looked back toward the other room. Tim's feet could just be seen.

"After today, do you think he can pull through?"

James took a deep breath. "I don't know, Don. I really don't. Part of the problem is that I don't have a baseline to compare. Most of the people I've helped with these types of problems are people I've known, even just slightly. I don't know him, not as he was. I only see him as he is...and am taking your word that it's not normal. If I were to rate our chances of success right now? ...I'd say that we're at a 40 percent chance that we can get Timothy to accept the help he needs. If we push it too soon, that will drop dramatically. If we wait too long, it will drop to zero. I'll keep trying, but I'd be lying if I said I was incredibly optimistic."

"That's what I was afraid of." With another long sigh, Ducky stood. "I'll go wake him for dinner."

"Good idea."

"It's about the only thing that is good right now."