Chapter 3
After a few minutes, Tim felt as though he was in better control of himself. He told himself that it was to be expected that he'd be a bit surprised by sudden appearance of his former teammates. Anyone would be surprised by that.
"Yeah, everyone freaks out at the sight of someone they used to work with," he muttered to himself. "You're as nuts as everyone thinks you are, Tim."
He came out of the stall and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked frightened, even to himself.
"This is ridiculous. Stop it, Tim."
He turned on the faucet and wet his hands. Then, he rubbed his hands over his face.
"Okay. There's no reason to be bothered. Just go out there and be normal. Right? Right."
Tim took a deep breath and walked out of the men's room.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Ziva was hard-pressed to focus on her task. She had heard Tim's voice when he answered the summons. She had looked at Ducky and Jimmy...and was shocked to find that neither of them acted surprised.
"You knew he was here," she said.
"Yes."
She didn't ask why they hadn't said anything. She knew why.
"Mr. Palmer, I do believe that we can take this young man home now. If you would be so good as to help us, Ziva?"
Ziva was staring back toward the voice.
"Ziva?" Ducky asked.
"Oh...I am sorry, Ducky," she said and turned back. "I did not expect to hear McGee...here."
"You never asked where he was working," Ducky said, answering her unasked question.
"No...I suppose we did not. Does Abby know?"
"I believe so."
Ziva nodded and then silently helped Jimmy and Ducky.
"Ducky, I thought I...heard...your voice."
Ziva turned around quickly as Tim's voice trailed off to nothing.
"Yes, you did, Timothy. I am sorry that we were called your place of employ. It is unfortunate."
"Yeah," Tim said and looked distinctly uncomfortable as Ziva looked him up and down.
For her part, Ziva was dismayed at Tim's appearance. He looked less brittle than when they had last been in the same room. He also was missing that overt hatred that had become the norm before. Still, he was too thin. His clothes were shabby, not overly so, but it was obvious that he was wearing them until he couldn't anymore. His haircut was a bit shorter than it had been, but it was shaggy as if he was waiting as long as possible to get it cut again.
...but more than all of that, Ziva was sad to see that Tim just did not look happy. He wasn't happy to see her, obviously, but there was more to the sadness in his eyes than her betrayal. Tim wasn't happy, and it pained her to think that this was his normal state.
"Hi," he said. "You're going to be investigating me, I guess."
"Why do you say that, Timothy?" Ducky asked.
"It will all come out soon enough. I'm sure that Teresa and Lorenzo are telling all the juicy secrets even as we speak."
Tim was tense, Ziva could see that. Could it really be due to her presence? She hadn't done anything. She'd barely spoken. She certainly hadn't made any threatening moves.
"Juicy secrets?" she asked, trying to sound normal.
Tim's eyes slid reluctantly from Ducky to her and then quickly moved away.
"Yeah. They're explaining that I'm crazy, that I'm unfriendly, secretive. They never liked me. I'm not to be trusted. You never know what I'd do. And on and on." He smiled fakely. "They've said those things to me often enough. I hardly think they'll hold back with others. ...but I should probably stay out of the way since I'm not part of the investigation."
"Oh, we're quite finished here, Timothy," Ducky said, his smile was understanding. "You are not in the way."
"Actually, could you tell me who had access to this closet, McGee?" Ziva asked quickly.
Tim nodded, but his desire to get away was very clear. However, he walked to the closet door as Ducky and Jimmy rolled the body out to the truck.
"There's no lock on the door. Usually only the maintenance staff went in there. Charlie and Brian will be in soon. They keep it stocked. It's supplies for the computers, for cleaning, for pretty much everything that can be kept in the same room. Nothing sensitive is kept in here."
"Did Lance Corporal Smythe make a habit of coming in here?" Ziva asked.
Tim grimaced. "Where didn't he make a habit of going? Every day, he patrolled the entire building, just to make sure that there weren't any intruders. He was irritating, acting like what we were doing here was a top secret mission. He prowled."
Ziva laughed and then blinked in surprise when Tim looked at her warily and backed away. It wasn't obvious or quick, but he was moving away from her.
"If that's everything, I'll get out of the way and wait until it's time to go."
"Time to go?"
"Yeah. I'm the new liaison...until you charge me with murder, of course."
"We have no reason to do so, McGee."
Tim smiled, but not happily. "You don't yet. You will."
Then, he walked away, leaving Ziva half-wondering if she had actually been speaking to Tim or to some strange doppelganger.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Okay, so you got here just before Ms. Martinsen discovered the body?" Tony asked.
"Yeah. McGee sent her to the supply closet. He liked ordering us around, like he was some sort of computer god just because he was brought in especially for this project. Guy can't even get a regular job and he treats us like dirt."
Tony swallowed and nodded.
"What happened after A-...Mr. McGee sent her to the closet?"
"Nothing. McGee was under her desk, 'working'," he made air quotes, "and he didn't try to talk to me. Thank goodness. Honestly, he kind of gives me the creeps. He doesn't talk, keeps to himself...and..." Lorenzo paused as if reticent to relate damning evidence. "...and he was in a nuthouse awhile back."
"He told you that?"
"No. I heard it. Everyone knows. He's shifty, you know? Always on edge. It's like he expects us to do something to him."
"Did you?" Tony asked, trying to keep his irritation in check.
"Of course not! We're not in high school. We don't like him and we can't wait for this project to be over so he's gone, but none of us ever touched him. What? Is he saying that we did?"
"No. I'm just trying to get a sense of the way things work here."
"They worked fine before McGee was here. They'll work fine after he leaves. Smythe was stupid and annoying, but if someone was going to get killed, I would have thought it'd be McGee."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"He was already here when I got here. He offered to try and fix my computer, pretending to be friendly. He really isn't very nice," Teresa said.
"Offering to help you doesn't seem like a mean thing," Jamie said reasonably. "Especially since it wasn't his job."
"Tim was always acting like he was better than the rest of us. He's so arrogant and full of himself! It's like we're the only ones who make mistakes. He's Mr. Perfect! The only people who can stand him at all are Hal and the guys in maintenance. I don't know what Hal was thinking when he hired him. We didn't need the extra help."
"Oh?"
Teresa was more than happy to keep gossiping. "Yeah, you know, Tim was committed for a while. No one knows what for, but he still sees a shrink every week. Actually, today. He gets off early for it. Maybe Hal had to meet some sort of quota for hiring special needs people or something like that. Still, Tim's only a temp. He won't be here much longer. Thank goodness."
"Could we get back on topic, please, Ms. Martinsen?"
"Oh...sure. So...he forced me to go back to the supply closet like some measly gofer and when I opened the door..." She paled at the memory. "He fell on me! I thought he might have been drunk or something at first, but then I saw the...the bullet hole." She looked nauseous. "I've never had a dead person fall on me before. I screamed and Tim and Lorenzo came running and pulled him off me. Then, Tim wouldn't let any of us touch him, the body, I mean, and he made Brian call for Hal and then called you guys. We had to hang around here...and that's now."
"Thank you, Ms. Martinsen. That will be enough for now, but I'm sure we'll have more questions for you later."
"Okay. Does that mean I can go?"
"Oh, I do have one more question."
"What?"
"Did anyone here hate Lance Corporal Smythe enough to want to kill him?"
"We all didn't like him, but he and Tim really went at it a couple of weeks ago. They were shouting at each other. Hal actually had to come and separate them. Tim called Eric... oh, what was it? It was really weird. I'd never heard it used as an insult before. Oh, yeah! Tim called him a stupid brainless frog who deserves to drown."
"Really?" Jamie asked, startled at the insult, not at the drowning part.
"Yeah. I told you. Tim is really weird...maybe he snapped."
Jamie rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Ms. Martinsen."
"No problem." Teresa smiled helpfully.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim sat in his office, breathing deeply, trying to gear himself up for what was sure to be an onerous task. There was a knock on his door. He jumped and looked back. There was Jimmy. He smiled and gestured.
"Hey, Tim," Jimmy said. "How's it going?"
"I haven't gone crazy yet...at least I don't think I have."
Jimmy smiled. "You haven't, but Dr. Mallard was a bit worried. You seemed really tense."
"Yeah...I am."
"Well, if you have to go back to NCIS, we can make room for you in the truck."
"You sure?"
"Unless you want to go with the others."
"No!" Tim said quickly and then laughed at himself. "I'm pretty obvious, huh?"
"Yeah, but you know? I think it's better that way. After all, when you try to hide things, it rarely goes well...for anyone. At least this way everyone already knows how you feel and maybe they'll be nicer."
"It's never helped before," Tim muttered. "Thanks for the offer, though. I'd much rather go with you and Ducky."
"Okay, Dr. Mallard's already telling Agent Gibbs, I'm guessing. He probably knew you'd say yes."
"He knows everything else."
"Yeah. He's like Gibbs...only less scary."
Tim laughed and felt some of the tension ease. Then, he sobered.
"What is it?" Jimmy asked.
"Jimmy...I...I think that..." He broke off when there was another knock on the partially open door.
"Hey, Tim, sorry to interrupt, but Hal's looking for you."
"Okay. Thanks, Charlie."
"No problem. Shocking stuff, you know? He was a pain in the neck...but still, he was a Marine! You don't kill off the people fighting for us, you know?"
"Yeah, I know." Tim took a breath. "I guess I'm being summoned again. Don't leave without me."
"We won't."
"Jimmy?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
Jimmy left and Tim started to stand but then began to shake again, seeing the blood that had run all over Theresa's face...and then the matted blood on the back of Smythe's head from the bullet blowing out the back of his skull.
It reminded him all too well of past events...of his nightmares. He closed his eyes and took a few shaky breaths.
"McGee, you okay?"
Tim jumped and looked up, meeting Tony's concerned gaze. Instantly, he was embarrassed at being caught like that.
"I'm fine. Hal's waiting for me." He stood up and brushed by Tony, walking quickly down the hall, putting as much distance as he could between Tony and himself.
"Tim, hey, come in and sit down," Hal said when Tim reached his office.
"Sure, Hal."
To his surprise, Hal closed the door to the office.
"What is it?" Tim asked.
"I want to apologize."
"For what?"
"This is your team, isn't it."
"Not anymore."
"But they were," he insisted.
"Yeah. They were."
"The people you were working with when you quit."
"Yeah."
"And...they probably have something to do with why you quit, don't they."
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry I asked you to work with them. I can do it."
"No, Hal. It's all right. I don't want to work with them again, but I'm not a little kid, scared of monsters in the closet."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
Hal smiled and let out a sigh.
"I really appreciate it, Tim."
"Hal, you're the first person who was really willing to give me a chance. I owe you for that at least."
"No. I've gotten a lot more out of you than I've given."
Tim felt a twisting in his gut.
"Are we going to be able to finish the project?"
"I'm afraid not for now. I've already called Quantico and they agree that we should postpone until this gets cleared up...or at least until everyone who works here is off the suspect list."
"I'm not going to be off, Hal."
"What do you mean?"
Tim sighed and spread his hands helplessly. "You know what they're going to say. Everyone knows about my argument with Lance Corporal Smythe. Everyone knows about my being committed. ...and I could have done it, Hal."
Hal got up and walked around the desk. He put his hand on Tim's shoulder and shook him gently.
"No, you couldn't, Tim. Even if you were right there. You couldn't have done it. That's not you. You don't solve your problems with a gun in your hand. Sure, you shouted, but you didn't even take a swing...and Smythe could have used one."
Tim smiled but then felt tears suddenly well up in in his eyes.
"Hal...you don't..."
"Hey, Tim... I don't know everything about you. I don't know why you were committed. I don't know a lot of your history, but I'd like to think that I've gotten to know you in the last few months. You're not a killer, Tim. I don't care what they say. I know better. It wasn't you."
The tears escaped. Hal didn't acknowledge them or draw attention to them in any way. Tim appreciated it, because he was embarrassed. Hal couldn't have any idea how much what he said both hurt and touched him.
"Thanks, Hal," he said when he was certain that he could speak.
"It's not a problem, Tim. ...and if you do get charged with anything, you let me know and I'll get you a lawyer. ...but I don't think you'll have that problem. These people you worked with, they've got to know what kind of a person you are."
"If only they did, Hal. If only they did."
Tim got up and walked out of the office, wiping tears away as he went.
He didn't see Gibbs watching him.