Chapter 34
Tim was released into Ducky's care later that day. Ducky had taken the day off, and while he had told Vance what had happened, it was only with the assurance that he didn't tell anyone else. While Tim had agreed to start getting help, he still wasn't interested in seeing anyone from his former team. They drove back to Matt's house just in time to let the shower people in. James led Tim into the kitchen while Ducky took them upstairs to show them the damage and explain what had happened.
Tim was still lost in that limbo of no emotion. His desire to keep away from his team wasn't based in anger...merely determination not to see them. ...but without the anger, he just didn't know what to do, and he still couldn't dredge up anything. It was like taking that pill had removed every emotion he had...and put nothing in place of it. He sank down onto a stool and then rested his chin on his folded arms. James tactfully said nothing. Instead, he walked around gathering ingredients to make something for lunch, letting Tim decide if there would be conversation.
"I shouldn't have pushed you into the pool," Tim said softly.
"Pardon?"
"I shouldn't have pushed you into the pool."
"No, you shouldn't have."
Tim didn't look up, didn't shift position. It was as though he was looking at something distantly removed from himself and commenting on it.
"Where's Jethro?"
"Outside. I introduced him to the man who takes care of the horses."
"Oh. I forgot there were horses here."
"There are."
"Yeah."
"Any preference for lunch?"
"No. Not really hungry."
"I'm not surprised. Eating is still necessary, however."
"Okay."
James glanced over. It was that same despondency that had briefly directed their conversation the day before. Some of it was probably lingering effects of the pill he had taken, but Tim had confronted, even obliquely, his mortality and the fact that it was a result of his own foolish actions as well as the planning of someone he had killed. How long would this last? ...long enough for them to get him into a hospital? Or would his anger return and lead to his changing his mind? If he did that, James knew it would probably be the last chance Tim had for recovery.
He looked up as Ducky came into the kitchen and raised his eyebrows once. Ducky nodded in response and sat down beside Tim, placing a gentle hand on his back. Tim jumped slightly but didn't raise his head.
"Timothy?"
"Yeah."
"There are some people you should call."
"Like who?"
"Your family, your friend. They should know where you're going."
"Yeah... They'll be glad to know they were right and I was wrong."
Abruptly, Tim got up, shrugged off Ducky's hand and walked out to the pool. He sat down on his deck chair and stared at the water.
"You'd better get him there as soon as you can, Don," James said softly. "He's liable to go right back where he was given the chance."
"I know. I've already called the Institute to tell them that we were coming. They'll be ready for him in the morning. Do you need any help?"
"Not as much as he does, Don," James said and then smiled good-naturedly. "Go and talk to him, get him on the phone. That's more important than lunch right now...no matter how skinny he is."
Ducky chuckled and walked out to the pool, phone in hand. He sat down beside Tim once more and held out the phone.
"Whom do you wish to call first?"
"No one."
"That's not an option."
"I'm not calling people from NCIS."
"You don't have to."
Tim put out his hand and took the phone. He hesitated and then dialed a number.
"Hi...Mom. It's me."
Ducky smiled and nodded when Tim looked at him with that semi-blank stare.
"Yeah...I just...I need to tell you something. I know it's been a while."
Tim took a deep breath.
"I'm checking into the loony bin."
"Timothy," Ducky warned.
"I'm...I'm going to go to a psychiatric hospital...yes...voluntarily."
Tim started to shake his head, but he continued to speak.
"Yeah...I don't... No, Mom. I don't know how long. No...please, don't come. Not yet. I promise. I'm going. Ducky's making sure of that." The smallest hint of bitterness there. "You can talk to him...if you need to. Will you call Sarah for me? Thanks. Okay. I'm going to go now, Mom. Bye." Tim hung up.
"You didn't tell her about what happened last night."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Nothing she can do about it. She didn't need to know."
"She wanted to come?"
"Yeah."
"You said no."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"I'm not going to have people come and stare at me like an animal in a zoo!" The first fire Tim had expressed in almost a day. Dangerous.
"Now, you need to call your friend."
Tim nodded and dialed another number.
"Hey, Matt. Yeah, it's me." Tim's eyes closed. "Hi, Judith." He opened his eyes again. "I'm sorry about the shower. ...okay. I just wanted to tell you that I can't house sit anymore. I'm going to a...to a mental hospital. Um...yeah. So...Ducky said that he'd make sure things were okay here. If...If you need me to stay then I could..."
Ducky smiled at the obvious attempt to find a reason not to go.
"Okay. If you're sure... Okay. Bye." Tim hung up once more, clearly not giving Matt the chance to say anything else. "There. They know."
"There's no one else you need to tell?"
"No."
"What about Abigail?"
"No."
"Are you angry at her as well?"
"No, but she doesn't need to know. I'm not talking to her, Ducky. You're not going to make me."
"Very well. I will not insist. You should pack. I can bring you other things you might need if you'd like."
Tim shook his head.
"I'm not going to see anyone once I go in there, Ducky. I'm going to do whatever it is they want me to do and that's it. No outside world."
"You can't ignore the outside world."
Tim handed the phone back to Ducky.
"Watch me." He stood up and walked back inside the house.
Ducky sighed and stared out at the yard. He had known that no part of this would be easy, but still, he had hoped that Tim would see the value of getting help, not just that he had another way in which to hide himself away. Still, this was the best and only option. It would have to be enough.
He got up to follow Tim inside.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
The rest of the day passed easily enough. Tim said very little. James had searched through all his luggage and his room to make sure there were no other pills and had come up empty. It was a relief to know that Tim had been honest about how many ecstasy pills he'd had. The shower people had cleaned up the bathroom but had to take new measurements in order to replace the glass walls. They informed Ducky that Matt had apparently ripped the owners a new one when he had called and so they were to get the work done as quickly and safely as possible. It was an uncommon problem but had occurred before with other companies. A microscopic flaw in the glass put the entire wall under stress and eventually it would explode from the tension of being screwed in place. No deaths or major injuries had been reported, mostly because it happened so rarely, but it was a known risk and one that they tried to fix as quickly as possible to keep from making headlines. They spoke with Ducky and scheduled when they would come and install the new shower walls.
Then, it was just the motley crew of Tim, Ducky and James...and Jethro. Tim made no move to go to bed. Instead, he went out to the pool again. Ducky and James gave Tim his space...while keeping a discrete eye on him, not wanting something else to go wrong on this last night. When Tim seemed to be settling down for another night outside watching frogs, Ducky and James decided to sleep in shifts so that someone could be watching Tim all through the night.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Four a.m. Much too early to be waking up, but Ducky sat up, yawned, thought longingly of the time when he could sleep through the night again, and then headed down the stairs. James was in the kitchen. He noticed Ducky and smiled.
"Hey, Don! Come here and look," he whispered, gesturing.
Ducky joined him as he watched.
Tim was halfway around the pool. He knelt down beside the frantic flailings of a frog on its way to drowning. He hesitated and then reached down with a net and caught it up out of the pool. He had a water bottle beside him and he gently washed off the chlorine before carrying the frog to the low fence and dropping it over. Then, he walked back around the pool and sat down on his chair, resuming his staring.
"He's done that before?"
"Once. I wasn't sure if he'd do it again. He doesn't look like he really wants to, but he is...for whatever reason."
"Have you asked him?"
"No. I don't want him to feel conscious of being watched doing something he might consider to be wrong...for whatever reason."
"For whatever reason," Ducky repeated softly. "I never know whether to be encouraged or otherwise when I watch him. I don't know, James. I must confess that I never considered Timothy to be a candidate for this type of breakdown."
"You never know who it will hit and when. I've seen operatives go through the worst kind of situation imaginable and come out with nothing more than a scar or two and then lose it with a single light undercover mission. You never know. ...and it seems that there were contributing factors involved in this case. No one should feel they have to go through deep undercover without support as Timothy did. That is not only difficult. It's also dangerous. ...but as long as Timothy doesn't try to take out us two old geezers, as they say."
"True. Your turn to sleep, I believe."
"Good. I'm tired, believe it or not."
"Go on, then."
Ducky settled down to watch as Tim sat. As the night went on, he gradually began to droop. Jethro was out beside him, head in his paws, sleeping. By the time the next frog fell into the pool, Tim was asleep as well.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"You'll make sure everything is okay here?" Tim asked as he carried his suitcase down the stairs.
"Yes, Timothy."
"And Jethro will be all right?"
"Yes, Timothy."
"Are you sure? I don't..."
"Everything will be all right in your absence, and you have but to call if you wish to..."
"No." Tim stopped at the front door and looked at Ducky...again, strangely without the anger, only with determination and the emptiness. "I'm going in there and that's it."
Ducky inclined his head in resignation. Hopefully, after he'd been receiving treatment for a while, he'd lift that restriction.
"Well...let's go, then."
"After you, Timothy." Ducky looked back over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a while, James."
"Don't mind me. Jethro and I will get better acquainted while you're gone. It was good to meet you, Timothy."
"Yeah, right." Tim walked out the front door.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim sat next to Ducky as they waited for his name to be called. He was trying not to squirm. All he wanted to do at the moment was run away, but he sat there, not moving. Ducky was calm beside him. Of course.
Some of his emotions were slowly resurrecting themselves, but he still had no energy to do more than acknowledge that they were there. He was tired. Exhausted. He couldn't see how coming here was going to help, but he was too tired to fend Ducky off anymore.
"Timothy McGee?"
Tim jumped as Ducky touched his wrist.
"Come, lad. Let's go."
Tim nodded mutely and followed Ducky back to a brightly-lit room.
"Timothy?"
Another nod.
"I'm Dr. Maren Wood. I'm one of the psychiatrists on staff here. Would you please sit down?"
Tim sat down, feeling unaccountably tense.
"Now, let's just go over what will happen."
"I check in. I'm here. What else is there?" Tim mumbled.
"Well, not exactly. We have a report from Dr. Mallard, here, but we require all new patients go through a 72-hour observation period."
"What does that mean?"
"It just means that we'll be admitting you with the stipulation that if we determine this would not be best for you, we might make other arrangements. It's mostly a formality in this case, but can't be missed. You'll be given a room assignment and you'll meet with a psychiatrist, a doctor and be eased into the schedules here. We'll determine what will best suit your needs. This is a place meant to heal and that can't be done by applying a standard treatment to every patient because every patient is different."
"Okay."
"Visiting hours are–"
"I don't want visitors," Tim said. "So the hours don't matter."
"All right. Then, why don't you two say your good-byes and I'll wait outside."
Dr. Wood got up and walked out of the room.
"Timothy?"
"Bye, Ducky," Tim said and stood up.
Ducky stood up as well and caught Tim's arm.
"Wait, lad."
"What?"
"There are a number of people who are always willing to hear from you. Please, don't isolate yourself out of a misguided notion that we don't want to talk to you. We do."
"I'm not."
"All right. Timothy, I'm glad you came to me for help, even if it was only once."
Tim tried to bring out something he could say, but there was nothing. All he wanted was to get started on this whole rigamarole. Might as well.
"Bye, Ducky."
"Good-bye, Timothy. Godspeed."
Tim nodded and walked out of the room.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
When Ducky arrived at NCIS a little later in the day, he was instantly accosted by Tony and Ziva, wanting to know what had happened, if Tim had met with some problem. Gibbs, predictably, said nothing, but he looked up. Even Jamie was interested, although she had no personal stake in what he had to say.
"Timothy decided to voluntarily commit himself to a psychiatric hospital." Ducky held up a hand to keep them from interrupting. "He has not softened toward you all to any degree. He simply has acknowledged that he needs help and is willing to get it. He has not authorized me to tell you, but I wanted to save you gas money driving out to his friend's home. Timothy will not be there."
"For how long?" Tony asked.
"That I couldn't say, Tony. I don't know."
"What caused him to recognize it?" Ziva asked.
"He took an ecstasy tablet which was given to him by Julia Westin, a tablet which was laced with what could have been a lethal dose of PMA. It almost was. I believe that shook him enough to get him to see what was necessary."
"He took it?" Tony asked, shocked.
"Yes."
"On purpose?"
"To the degree that he was thinking clearly, yes."
"He kept something given to him by Julia Westin?" Ziva asked.
"Yes. He said it was intended to kill him; so she, at least, must have suspected something."
There was a long moment of silence.
"I told you everyone screws up something," Tony said finally.
"Is that really your first thought, Anthony?" Ducky asked. "How he messed up?"
Tony had the grace to look ashamed but he didn't answer.
"If Timothy ever does decide that he wishes to speak with any of you again, I'd suggest that you curb your tongue if that is all you can think to say."
There was an awkward pause.
"Are you going to be visiting him regularly?" Ziva asked, if only to break the silence.
"Not at all."
"Why not?" Gibbs asked.
Tony and Ziva both looked at Gibbs in surprise. He had asked a question!
"Timothy has decided that he does not want any visitors at all during his stay there. He was quite adamant and applied it to friends, family and enemies."
"Where is he?"
Ducky relented slightly, but stayed firm. "Leave him be, Tony. Let him get the help he needs. He will contact someone when he is ready to. Trying to get a glimpse or trick your way inside will not help. It would probably not even help you...and it certainly wouldn't help Timothy. Not now. Leave him be."
"All right...All right, Ducky. I guess I'll wait."
Gibbs stood up. "Jamie, go down and check with Abby. See if she's made any headway on that computer. Ziva, Tony..."
"Go and interview Lt. Danson's wife. Yeah, Boss."
As soon as everyone was gone, Gibbs looked at Ducky.
"Yes, Jethro?"
"Is he all right? Physically?"
"He will recover fully from his foolishness."
"How are his bills being paid? He never applied for COBRA after he quit."
"I will be taking care of that today, if Director Vance will assist me."
"If you need any help with the premiums, you can ask me."
Ducky smiled.
"Thank you, Jethro. I most certainly shall."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim sat in the common area, wondering what he should be doing, thinking...feeling. At the moment, nothing pretty much covered it all.
"Timothy McGee?"
Tim looked over toward the door.
"Hi. I'm William, one of the staff here. Dr. Jacobs will see you now."
Tim hesitated and then stood and followed. He supposed this was the first step.
He wondered how many more there would be.
