AN: I'm really sorry for the long wait again. At least this chapter is a long one! And thank you, thank you for your awesome responses!
Gibbs rubbed his hand across his face, deep in thought. Something wasn't sitting right. The man they had in holding-Brandon Jenkins-had only told them about four guards; the one who had died and three more. When they raided the warehouse where McGee was, they arrested Dylan Stanfield, the man who had tortured McGee, and four more guards. Of course, Gibbs had known Jenkins was just a lackey, had expected him to not know everything, but it was imperative that he make sure everyone connected to this case was arrested. He owed it to McGee; it was the very least that he could do. And that was the reason he was walking into Dylan's interrogation room first.
"I'm not saying anything until my lawyer comes." Dylan folded his arms, leaning back in his chair as he glared at Gibbs.
"Didn't think you would."
Dylan humphed and looked past Gibbs to the two-way mirror. Gibbs studied the man, waiting until Dylan shifted uncomfortably before breaking the silence. "How long do you have left?"
Dylan's gaze snapped back to Gibbs, his eyes narrowing in surprise. He seemed to consider his words before he spoke, apparently deciding on whether or not he should comment on the subject without his lawyer. "A few months."
Gibbs nodded slowly, noting the dark shadows beneath the man's eyes, the paleness of his skin. "You love your nephew."
"He is my world."
Gibbs leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Then I don't understand. How could you let your nephew be included in this? He's going to jail for a long time."
Dylan shook his head, "I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen. He loves me, too."
"I'm betting you didn't push that hard to make him stop. You don't want to die."
"Who does, Agent Gibbs? But I'll admit that I don't want to leave my nephew."
"But now your nephew's going to jail," Gibbs reiterated. "You could have spent your last few months with John; instead, you're both going to jail. You'll be separated. And long after you're dead, Johnny will still be suffering for the crime he committed for you."
A spasm of pain crossed Dylan's face for the first time, remorse settling across his features. He pursed his lips, dark eyes focusing on the table before looking back at Gibbs. "Is there anything…?"
"Your nephew won't talk. We want all of the details, all of the loose ends tied up."
Dylan nodded. "I'll get him to talk."
…
"You want to talk about it?"
Tim stiffened, his eyes snapping to Tony before quickly darting away again. "Not really."
Tony frowned, not sure what he should do or say that would help his friend. He sifted through several movie references and jokes, deciding that each were insignificant and would do nothing to draw out McGee. Finally, he went simply with "Thank you."
McGee turned to look back at Tony, surprised. "For what?"
"For saving my life."
Comprehension dawned, and McGee shook his head, giving a slight shrug. "You would have done the same for me."
Tony almost winced, his guilt growing at Tim's innocent comment. "I didn't have your back, Tim," Tony said, voice deep with emotion.
"And I didn't tell you what I was doing," Tim replied.
Tony sighed. "You were following orders. Trust me, I understand," He said, pushing back the memories that surfaced from the La Grenouille case.
Tim nodded, deep in thought. Tony could tell he wanted to say something, but was hesitant to do so. He waited patiently, not wanting to push him.
"Did you really believe I was a mole?"
"No," Tony answered quickly as he shook his head. "None of us did. We were just trying to figure out what was going on and we were overwhelmed. There was evidence that wasn't adding up, Vance was telling us he hadn't put you on any cases…We were flying blind."
"Gibbs believed it," Tim interrupted quietly, his mind clearly recalling the accusation on Gibbs' face.
"He didn't believe it. Not really. And he's been looking for you nonstop."
"You didn't see his face…" Tim whispered, the lines grooved on his face clearly showing Tony how hurt he had been by Gibbs' seeming dismissal.
Tony leaned forward in his chair, clasping his hands as he tried to explain to Tim what it had been like on the other side of the operation. "Look, Tim…None of us could ever believe that you were going to sell classified information. It's just not something you would do. Ever. That being said…You weren't talking to us and you were acting suspicious. At first we just thought it was something personal and tried to be there if you wanted to talk, but you never said anything. More time passes and we still don't know anything; and you make a lame excuse to leave in the middle of an investigation...I followed you, saw you having a meeting with some guy in the shadows, and it just…didn't make any sense.
Then at the next meet, we all see you meeting with guys that don't look like your friendly neighbor-type, the guns being a dead giveaway; I get shot and Gibbs sees you in a room with your computer all ready to go…We were all having trouble separating what we knew from what we were seeing. We knew you couldn't sell out NCIS, but the evidence was sitting right there in plain sight that something bad was happening. And you were smack-dab in the middle of it."
"How…how did you guys know about that second meet? I only told Vance."
"Ah…" Tony said, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "Well, I saw that meeting at the footbridge."
"Okay," Tim said slowly, confused still. "But the information was on a slip of paper, in my pocket. You wouldn't have overheard anything."
"Right, well…Ziva took you to get coffee when you came back? She picked your pocket, read the paper, and slipped it back, obviously before you even knew it was missing."
McGee mouth dropped slightly in surprise. "I didn't even…I should have noticed that."
"Yeah, but this is Ziva we're talking about. She has mad ninja skills."
A tired smile crossed his face as his eyes drooped.
"You going to sleep on me, Probie?"
"I'm sorry…I'm just so tired."
Tony gave a short laugh. "It's okay."
Tim forced his eyes open, a worried frown appearing as he looked at Tony. "You'll be here when I wake up?"
Tony swallowed at Tim's earnest expression before nodding and forcing a smile. "Of course."
Another smile ghosted across McGee's face before his eyes closed and his face relaxed in sleep.
…
Gibbs watched Dylan and his nephew through the observation window, waiting. John hadn't wanted to talk, but Dylan was slowly persuading him. Johnny was the mastermind. Gibbs knew that, had known that from the moment he and his team had found out John was involved. While he was positive John had not touched his agent, Gibbs still struggled to control his anger. This man had targeted his agent, had carelessly decided McGee's life held no value except to be the pawn that would supply him with money.
Gibbs clutched the thick folder in his hands as he walked in on the two men. Dylan put his hand on John's shoulder as he looked up at Gibbs and nodded.
Gibbs sat down, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Start talking. From the beginning."
John mirrored Gibbs' posture, mouth stubbornly glued shut.
"Johnny-boy! Tell him. This is your only chance," Dylan urged.
John clenched his jaw, finally spitting out a "Fine." He uncrossed his arms, drumming his fingers on the table as he started speaking. Gibbs sat silent through his statement, face expressionless.
When John started talking about the men he had hired, Gibbs pulled out pictures of each of the men that had been arrested. He laid them in front of Johnny, watching as the man shuffled through the pictures.
"These men were arrested at the warehouse. Who are they?"
John spread the pictures across the table, for once an emotion besides anger and defiance crossing his face. "These are the men you arrested? All of them?" He asked, confused.
"Yes. Why?" Gibbs asked, his voice sharp as that feeling in his gut grew stronger.
John looked up, meeting his gaze as he answered. "Because you missed someone."
…
He was having a nightmare. And Tony couldn't wake him up. "Come on, Probie! It's just a dream! Wake up!" He shook Tim's shoulder, but he just continued to groan, face twisting at the remembered pain. The broken words that fell from his mouth as he clenched his hands in the bed sheets stung Tony's ears, whose own anger and guilt were still thick.
"I won't help you…No…don't…Please! Please stop…No, he's not…It's not true! Tony…"
"Tim!" He shook Tim's shoulder urgently until the young man finally pried his eyes open with a short cry, cringing away from Tony's hand. His eyes were wide-open in fear and confusion, breath coming in gasps as he looked around the room, replacing the images of his dark nightmare with the light of the hospital room.
Tim closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he fought to calm himself. He shuddered, pressing his mouth together, red tingeing his cheeks in embarrassment. Finally, he opened his eyes to meet Tony's concerned gaze. "Sorry."
"You okay?"
McGee nodded, relaxing back onto the bed, eyes closing once more. He felt Tony shake his shoulder again. "Hey, Probie. The doctor's here. Can you stay awake?"
Tim sighed and forced his eyes open. "Yeah. I'm…" The words froze on his lips as his gaze fell on the doctor walking up behind Tony. Brown eyes peered back at him, a familiar cold, viciousness in their depths. Slowly, the man smiled and Tim gasped, "No!"
"Tim?" Tony turned, looking behind him in confusion, his hand falling on his gun as he twisted around.
He was too late, though. Max had already pulled his gun from the pocket of the white lab coat and swung it at Tony's head. McGee bolted up from the bed, ignoring the pain as he tried to prevent Tony's unconscious form from crashing to the floor; but when Max swung the gun in his direction, he froze.
Max gave another smile. "You didn't think you would be able to escape me, did you?"
AN: I have no defense other than to say...I had to do it. Maybe two chapters left after this? I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought!