Chapter 5
"I'm in trouble, Dr. Lewis. Big trouble...and..."
"And you're shaking, Tim. Have a seat."
All the stress Tim hadn't been able to express during the very long day came out now.
"Okay, calm down first and then tell me what happened."
Tim took a deep breath and tried to regain control of himself. It took a few minutes.
"Feeling better?"
He nodded.
"Okay. Now, what's going on?"
"Eric Smythe is dead. He was murdered."
"What?"
"Sometime this morning. ...and..." Tim stopped.
"What is it?"
"And I threatened to kill him two days ago. I slammed him against the wall outside Soft-Tech and I threatened to kill him. I said I'd shoot him right between the eyes. ...and...and that's how he was killed. Someone shot him. Right between the eyes. And...and I'm going to be accused the murder! I know I am! I have to be. If they follow the investigation at all competently...it has to be me. I was there really early this morning. I have a history of violence. I have a history of mental instability...and ...and it seems like a coincidence that he was shot right where I said I would do it!"
Tim stood up and began to pace back and forth.
"And...and they're investigating. I'm going to have to see them...day after day until they arrest me. They're going to have to be asking me questions. I've spent so much time trying to avoid seeing them...seeing...NCIS, seeing all that. I thought I was free of it. ...but now...now, I'm not. ...and I don't know if I can do it."
The words ran out and Dr. Lewis sat quietly for a few minutes, digesting what Tim had said. Tim was used to the pauses and so that didn't bother him at all. During the silence, he regained some equilibrium and sat down again.
"Tim, I know you're not going to like hearing this, but here it is: You've never been free of them."
"What do you mean?"
"Your former teammates at NCIS. You haven't been free of them. The very fact that you have been so shaken just by seeing them again tells me that you're not free of them. You never were because you have to avoid them, even their names, in order to forget...or at least to pretend to forget. This might be good thing, Tim."
"A good thing?"
"Yes. You'll be forced into close contact with a problem you've been avoiding, even here."
"I don't want to see them," Tim said. "None of them."
"I know, but this is still an unresolved issue for you. ...and you know how I feel about leaving things unresolved."
Tim smiled but then leaned over and dropped his head. "I don't feel in control when I'm around them. I feel like my life is starting to spiral away again."
"It doesn't have to."
"My life is in their hands. Once they know everything."
"Tim, your life belongs to you. No one else has the power to control it. Yes, I know that there are ways of physically-constraining life, but inside...your mind is yours and you don't have to give that up. It doesn't even have to be an issue. They're not going to try to take it from you."
Tim sat up. "What if...What if I become Thomas again?"
"That's a choice, Tim. It always has been. You do not have to embrace that aspect of yourself if you don't want to. You need to trust yourself. You're much better at trusting others, but you're so afraid of your own actions that it's holding you back more than it should."
Tim stood up again, but it was not in agitation this time. He walked to the window and looked out over the grounds.
"There are times when I wish I was back in here. It was so much easier, even with all the things I had to face. I was safe here."
"You're safe out there, too."
Tim shook his head. "No. It's not safe out there. I know I can't control people. If I could...I wouldn't have been mugged. I wouldn't have been robbed. I wouldn't have coworkers who dislike me, not because of anything I did but because of the danger I present. I wouldn't be seeing Lance Corporal Smythe's body in my mind over and over again. I can't control people."
"But you wish you could?"
Tim shook his head. "No...I wish I didn't feel like I needed to."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Gibbs wiped the sweat off his face and focused on his task. He was almost done. The metal had been the most difficult part, as he had suspected. He had gone through multiple sheets before he had finally got a feel for how to cut and smooth it without ruining the burnished look. Now, he was finally attaching it to his project. There were long thin strips, larger squares. Each piece required painstaking placement and he was determined to finish it tonight, especially now that Tim had reappeared.
Even if Tim didn't seem to be at all happy to see them, he was both glad and slightly disturbed by it. He had hoped that Tim would have found someplace he could be happy, but it didn't look as though he had. This job, even though it was only temporary, was one he had because he needed it, not because he enjoyed it. He didn't want that for Tim, and knowing that he was to blame for it made it worse.
Carefully, he tapped on the metal strip, lining up the holes, lining it up flush with the edge. When that was done, he picked up the largest piece and set it in place, making sure the size was exactly right. No flaws in this work.
There was a sound of someone walking around upstairs. Gibbs kept working and the door opened.
"Ah, Jethro. I assumed you would be down here. Having a lock on the door but not using it does not actually keep people out."
"You're assuming I want to keep people out," he said. "What brings you here, Ducky?"
"I think it is the same thing that has you up so late working on your latest project. I don't know that this would function very well as a boat," Ducky said as he came down the stairs.
"It's not a boat," Gibbs said, knowing that it was unnecessary.
"It's quite beautiful, Jethro."
"Thanks."
"I'm worried about Timothy."
"Why?"
"Because he is afraid of being in contact with NCIS again, but I think he needs to be."
"We're not going to do anything to him, Ducky," Gibbs said, setting down the mallet. "He obviously wants nothing to do with us and we won't force ourselves on him."
Ducky smiled sadly. "If only it were that simple. If only rebuilding were as easy as this," he said, nodding at Gibbs' project. "But it's not. He's afraid of you."
"Afraid? Why?"
"That I don't know, but I could see it in his eyes. Just being back at NCIS frightens him. Too many memories, perhaps? I don't know. I just know that he's afraid and that...for all your good intentions, it may not be enough."
"Ducky...we've done what we could. McGee was very clear about not wanting us around. We haven't been. We have to see him now, but he's shown no interest in renewing contact outside of the case and I'm willing let it be that way if that's what he wants. What more are you expecting?"
Ducky sighed heavily and sat down on the steps. "I don't know, Jethro. I just know that a young man I have come to care for as much as my own flesh and blood is still shaky. All the gains he has made in the last year could be lost again. I don't like that, but I don't know what to say. I just hope that perhaps you can remember it...show as much care for Timothy as you have for this work of art you have created. It might help."
Gibbs looked back at his project. "This isn't enough, Ducky. This isn't...whatever we do...it's not enough. I don't know how to help him...even if he would accept it from me which he won't."
"Let me ask you something, Jethro."
"What?"
"Do you want to help him? Or is it merely atoning for past errors in judgment?"
Gibbs looked at Ducky and then back at his project.
"I want to help him, Duck."
"Perhaps that will be enough."
"What will?"
"Wanting to help. That's what was missing before."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"We have a problem, Boss," Tony said first thing the next morning.
"What's that, Tony?" Gibbs asked, giving his desktop a passing glance, meeting the accusing eyes before paying attention to Tony.
"Time of death for the Lance Corporal is about 0700."
"And?"
Ziva looked disturbed, but she added, "McGee said he got to the building at 0630. The cameras go out at 0645. He said himself that the supply closet is never locked. The two maintenance workers verified it. The cameras are back on at 0715. Teresa Martinsen arrived at 0755, Lorenzo Flores at 0838."
"Teresa Martinsen said that Tim had a shouting match with Smythe two weeks ago. Others verified it, including Hal Johnson who had to break it up. ...and..."
"And what?" Tony asked, his voice dangerous.
Jamie glared at him. "You know it's an issue, Tony. You can't pretend that you don't know about it, just because it's inconvenient. Deal with it now and we can move on!"
"What are you talking about, Davidson?"
"Timothy McGee was committed to a psychiatric facility to deal with issues related to a mental and physical breakdown. One of the manifestations was irrational anger and even violence. Everyone knows that he punched you out, Tony. I'm not saying I like it, but if we don't at least look into McGee as a possibility, we're going to be seen as playing favorites just because we know who he is."
Ziva also glared. "That was a very specific anger, directed at people who deserved it."
"Maybe Smythe deserved it, too," Jamie said. "It sounds like he was irritating and insufferable. People have killed for less."
"It wasn't McGee," Gibbs said flatly.
"Gibbs, it's not enough for you just to say that. We have eliminate him as a suspect. You all know that. I don't want us getting pulled off because you can't stay objective. It would look bad on my record."
Tony smiled reluctantly.
"Look, guys, I don't think it was him, either...but this is looking bad and we need to nip it in the bud. Now...not when it's forced on us."
"She is right, Gibbs," Ziva said unwillingly. "It is better to get rid of McGee as a suspect now."
"Teresa Martinsen has an alibi. Her husband verifies that she was home. Same with Hal Johnson and his wife," Jamie said.
"The teacher of Lorenzo Flores' kids confirmed that he dropped them off at school at 0815. They are seven and nine years old. Their mother is gone. No one knows exactly where," Tony added.
"So everyone can confirm their whereabouts except for McGee?" Gibbs asked.
The significance of that statement hit them all at the same time. Gibbs sighed.
"Tony, go to his place and pick him up. Bring him back here for more questioning. Ziva, you and Jamie go and talk to his coworkers, see what they have to say."
"Most of them were...eager to share how much they didn't trust Tim," Jamie said. "The only ones who didn't do that were Brian Moore and Charles Allen, and Hal Johnson who obviously favors McGee and has done so apparently since his first day."
"Talk to them first."
No one moved for a moment. Gibbs looked around at them all.
"What are you waiting for?" he snapped. "Get going."
They scattered...and Gibbs took a breath before heading down to Abby. This was a meeting he wasn't relishing.