Chapter 2

It was almost 2100 by the time Gibbs got to Annapolis. Eileen opened the front door as soon as he stepped onto the porch. Her dark hair was down around her face, her blue eyes were rimmed with red, and her skin was paler than normal.

"Thanks for coming, Jethro," she said.

He walked in and pulled her into a hug.

"I shouldn't have dragged you out here at this time of night."

"My idea." He pulled back and looked at her. "You OK?"

She shrugged. "Define OK. I'm better than Sean is." She closed her eyes, but Gibbs had seen the moisture in them. He asked her for coffee, figuring she would do better with a tangible task, and followed her back to the kitchen. It was homey and cluttered, not the rigid neatness Gibbs had often seen in the homes of career officers. Family pictures hung on the wall by the kitchen table, and Gibbs stood looking at them while she put the coffee on to brew. He looked at the photos that captured McGee as he grew from a toddler to a gangly, lanky teenager. He had never really thought about the age gap between the young agent and his sister — they were both very young as far as he was concerned — but it was obvious in these childhood pictures, starting with a pre-teen Tim holding baby Sarah. He smiled at some of the newer additions to the wall, photos of Tim and Tony together and with the rest of the McGees. Even a photo taken this past Christmas of all of them, from Jack to Sarah.

"You have a beautiful family," Gibbs said as she handed him a steaming mug. They sat down at the table.

Eileen smiled. "Sean always wanted pictures," she said. "Each time he shipped out, I'd make him a photo album of us and the kids, with empty pages in the back. Every few weeks, I'd send more photos. Big things, like the first time Tim rode his bike without training wheels, and little things, like Sarah climbing a tree. When he got back, he'd frame his favorites for the wall."

Gibbs thought back to his days on active duty. "It was tapes for me. Shannon, my first wife, would send me cassettes — she and Kelly talking to me, Kelly playing the piano as she got older. I still have them, still play them from time to time." He closed his eyes and remembered sitting in a tent in Kuwait, listening to the one that arrived just days before his girls died. "I had a tough time fitting the recorder into my gear, but it was worth washing my T-shirts more often to make room for them. I imagine Sean felt the same way."

Eileen nodded. "He had been in the Navy almost 10 years by the time Tim was born. The next few times he shipped out, he talked about getting out of the service and finding a civilian job. But he was already more than halfway toward his 20 years, so we decided he would stay in until he could retire. Then he got a stateside posting. His CO there knew he was thinking about getting out and recommended him for the post at the Academy, and we've been here ever since."

"I was only 4 years away from my 20 when the girls died. Probably would have gotten out then. Kelly was heartbroken the last time I shipped out. Before Desert Storm I was never gone for any length of time." Gibbs sipped some coffee and pushed back the memories. "Wonder if it would have made a difference if I'd gotten out sooner. Girls might still be alive."

Eileen sighed. "It's easy to play the what-if game, isn't it? Ever since Sean got sick, we've wondered if he could have avoided exposure by getting out when Tim was born. But it turns out that asbestos was phased out of ships before Sean ever thought about leaving the Navy, so by then the damage was probably already done. In fact, we're probably better off that he stayed in. The VA only covers asbestos-related illnesses if you can prove it's related to Navy service, which is apparently pretty difficult if you've ever been exposed at any other point in your life. But since Sean's still active duty, we don't have to worry about that. Instead he's able to see Brad and get care without all the hassle." Gibbs watched her rub a hand across her eyes, and he lay his hand to her shoulder. She looked up at him. "Thank goodness for small favors, huh?"

"Not so small. Brad's the best. He saved Tony from the plague. He's still keeping him going, even insists Tony's going to be a field agent as long as he wants if he has anything to do with it." He patted her shoulder before sitting back in his seat. "Sean's going to make it through."

Eileen nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Been thinking about what you asked."

"About telling the boys?"

Gibbs nodded. "You picking them up?"

"Abby was going to unless she got tied up with work."

"Does Abby know?"

Eileen shook her head. "I asked Sarah not to mention it to her until we knew more."

Gibbs thought for a second. "Don't call. I'll pick them up and tell them about Sean, then take them over to Bethesda. It'll be after visiting hours, but they know me there. As many times as Tony's been in, they know him. If he can't fast-talk his way past the nurses, I'll scare them."

Eileen nodded. "Sean's in a limited-access unit because of the pneumonia. They said immediate family only and wouldn't let me put Tony on the list. Brad said he would take care of it."

Gibbs muttered about inflexible nurses, but kept it quiet enough that Eileen couldn't hear. "If Brad can't get him on the list, let me know. I'll make sure Tony's able to get in."

"Thanks, Jethro. I didn't want to make too big a fuss. Even though NCIS is civilian and DADT doesn't apply, Sean's seen too many young men and women pressured out of the Academy by it for me to take the risk. The boys both love NCIS."

Gibbs nodded. "They're not in any danger. Vance knows about their relationship, and he's taken steps to make sure they're safe from trouble-makers. If Brad gets slapped down, we can handle it." He drained his mug. "It's getting late. Sure you want to spend most of tomorrow at Bethesda, so I'll get the dog and his gear and get out of your hair."

Eileen insisted he didn't have to rush off, but Gibbs and Jethro were on their way 15 minutes later. Once home, he got the dog settled then headed down to the basement. He kept the door shut so Jethro couldn't follow him downstairs. Tony didn't do well in the basement when Gibbs was sanding, and he didn't want to send dust home in the dog's fur.

His hands smoothed the wood on his current project stroke by stroke. While his hands were busy, his mind was free to wander. Thinking back over his conversation with Eileen, he stopped to dig out his battered tape player. As he sanded, he listened to the last tape his girls had sent him. Listening to their voices, it was as though they were right there with him. It had always been that way when he was overseas, too, so he wasn't surprised to hear Sean McGee used photos for the same reason. Most of the sailors and Marines he served with who had families found some way to keep that connection alive while deployed.

After he'd lost Shannon and Kelly, he had never imagined that he'd be part of a family again. Much less that it would be formed of people whom he worked with day in and day out. Tony, Tim, Ziva, Abby — they were... what did Abby call them? Oh yeah, the Gibblets. He shook his head. Only Abby.

As close as they were though, the family analogy wasn't perfect. After all, McGee didn't need Gibbs as a father figure. He had Sean, who was close both geographically and emotionally. Not to mention the young man's feelings toward first Abby and now Tony weren't what you'd call brotherly.

Tony, though, had become like a son to him, and he was proud to be able to offer the younger man the security and the dependability he'd not had growing up. But he was also thankful that Tony had found such a good partner in Tim — watching his six out in the field and helping heal the deep wounds from his childhood. And the McGees gave Tony something that Gibbs, even as a surrogate father, could not provide through their acceptance and strong bond of affection.

Shannon and Kelly's voices faded as the tape came to a stop, and he decided to go upstairs and check on the dog. Finding Jethro sleeping in front of the sofa, he decided the dog had the right idea and went upstairs to bed.

The next day, he called the cell number Tony had given him for Brad. "Brad? Gibbs."

"Hey, Gibbs. You calling about Tony? I thought he and Tim were still on vacation."

"Get back tonight. Sean McGee?"

"Did Eileen decide to call Tim and tell him?"

"Nah. Called me. I'm picking them up at Reagan and telling them then. She said the hospital wouldn't let her put Tony on the visitor list. You get that fixed?"

"As fixed as it's going to get. They're pretty strict about immediate family members only. I got Tony's name added, but that's stretching the rules pretty far. We've got a few people here who still don't think DADT should be repealed. If they want to keep Tony out, they've got DoD policy on their side, even though Sean's the one in the military."

Gibbs cursed.

"I don't like it any more than you do. I didn't tell Tony at the time, but that's one reason I pushed him to make Tim his medical proxy. That overrides rules about family members, as you know from your many trips here. I didn't want to make a big issue of it, though, because they both had enough to worry about."

"I'm bringing them by tonight. By the time their plane lands and they grab their gear, it'll probably be 2000 before we get there, maybe 2030. That too late?"

"I'll leave a note for the night nurse that they've just returned from out of the country and should be allowed in. I'll stick around, too. If there's a problem, you guys know where to find me."

"Thanks, Brad. Appreciate it."

"Anything I can do to help, Gibbs. I want to get a look at Tony anyway, see how he's doing."

-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-NCIS-

Tim stretched his legs into the aisle in a vain attempt to make more room for Tony in the cramped row. While the commercial flight had amenities like temperature control and flush toilets, at the moment he missed the leg room aboard a Navy C-130. The precautionary Dramamine he had taken made him drowsy, and his head slipped to rest on Tony's shoulder.

"You OK, McQueasy?" His partner's hand wrapped around his own.

Tim nodded sleepily. "M'fine." He could feel Tony's shoulder shake as he laughed.

"Good thing Abby's picking us up. She'll wake you up."

"Don't laugh just yet." Tim snuggled closer. "She's had two weeks to find even more alternative therapies for you to try. Every time I'm in the lab, she has a stack of printouts and links for me. Her trunk will be full with everything she's dug up since we've been gone."

He felt Tony rest his head on top of his. "Why did we introduce her and Keith again?" his partner asked.

"We didn't — we ran into him on a coffee and Caf-Pow run, remember? She started asking about that hinky breath thing from her yoga class, and he was hooked." Tim closed his eyes as the Dramamine pulled him closer to sleep.

"Well, you were interested after just hearing her voice on the phone," Tony said. "Can't really blame Keith for his good taste, can you? I think he's even more McSmitten than you were."

"Did he get a tattoo before their first date?" Tim smiled at the memory. "Oh, the expression on your face when I told you that."

"What? You were such a probie then, and all of a sudden you're telling me you got a tat to impress a girl you'd never even met."

"It worked. Abby liked it."

"She's not the only one. And I'm glad you got her to date you — if she hadn't spilled the beans about your bedroom prowess later, I never would have started thinking about you that way."

Tim felt Tony's thumb caressing his hand. "Mmmmm. S'nice. Don't want to go back to work."

"Sleep, Tim."

And Tim fell asleep snuggled against Tony.

His partner didn't wake him until they approached Reagan National. Tim tried to stretch his long limbs in the confined space but was only marginally successful. When Tony twisted from side to side, Tim could hear the cracking sound as his vertebrae shifted against one another.

"You'd think those yoga classes Abby and Keith talked you into would get rid of your Rice Krispies spine," he said as they waited for the plane to touch down.

"Hey, my knees don't pop anymore. I'll take what I can get," Tony said. "Just wait and see how many of your joints make noise when you're my age."

"Yeah, yeah," Tim replied. When the plane taxied to the gate and the seatbelt sign was finally turned off, he stood to get his bag from the overhead bin. "Come on, let's get out of here and get home."

When they got down to baggage claim, Tony headed for the carousel while Tim looked for Abby or Sarah. He frowned when Gibbs walked over.

"Boss?"

"Hey, Tim. Where's Tony?"

Tim felt his gut start to churn. Though Gibbs used Tony's first name as often as his last, he almost never called him anything but McGee.

"Boss, where's Abby? Is she OK?" He led the way through the baggage claim to where Tony was waiting for their luggage.

"She's fine. Told her I'd get you." As they walked up to Tony, Tim could see he wasn't the only one surprised to see their boss.

"Boss? We catch a case?"

"No."

"What's going on? Is something wrong with Sarah?"

"No. Sarah's fine." He paused and for a moment, Tim thought he'd never tell them the reason for his unexpected appearance. "It's your dad."

"Dad? What's wrong?" He felt Tony wrap an arm around him.

"He was fine when we dropped off Jethro before we left," Tony said.

"Eileen called me yesterday. He's at Bethesda with pneumonia. Brad says he'll be there about a week. Abby doesn't know. I said I'd pick you up, take you over there."

"Is he OK?" Tim knew that was a dumb question. If his dad was OK, he wouldn't be at Bethesda for a week, and Gibbs wouldn't be calling him Tim and picking them up to go directly to the hospital from the airport. But he didn't know what else to say.

Gibbs just looked at him. "I can't say he's fine, but Brad doesn't seem too worried. He's in a restricted unit because of the pneumonia, like Tony was after the plague, but he's not in ICU." He reached out and put a hand on Tim's shoulder. The young agent knew it was meant to be reassuring, but it just reminded him that this was not good. It didn't take a teammate's death for Gibbs to be nice, but in serious situations, it just highlighted how worried he was.

"Tony, we need to-"

"Relax, McGee. I'll drive you over. I promised your mom. Not breaking that promise."

Tim nodded, not sure what else to say. As Tony and Gibbs pulled their luggage off the baggage carousel, he just stood there, then followed them out to the lot where Gibbs had parked his Charger. He felt like everything was covered in cotton, muffling it. And he didn't think it was the Dramamine. He didn't say a word the entire ride to the hospital.