Chapter 17

Gibbs took a breath before knocking on Tim's door. The two agents who had taken up positions didn't say anything, but they didn't have to. They knew who Tim was and the basics, at least, of what had happened so many months ago.

"Come in."

The voice was low and tentative, not like Tim's usual voice, not like his voice raised in fury or saturated with disdain. Tim was afraid and either lacked the energy to hide or just had decided it wasn't worth trying to hide.

He opened the door and walked in. Tim was lying in the bed, head bandaged, looking...scared. Almost as if he already knew more than Gibbs did about what had happened and why it had happened.

"How are you feeling, McGee?" he asked.

"Fine."

Okay. Nowhere to probe there. Down to business.

"I need to ask you a few questions about what happened today."

"Why? I'm a civilian."

Tim's eyes strayed to the door and then to the windows and then back to Gibbs.

"Because this is not just about a random attack on a civilian. ...but you already know that, don't you."

No response. Just that flicker of his eyes around the room once more. Gibbs was possessed of a desire to slap Tim upside the head and force him to see that this wasn't about his personal breakdown. It was something a lot more serious and his life could be on the line. ...but he mastered the impulse and instead sighed.

"Tell me what you remember."

"I was sleeping. I woke up. Someone was there. He grabbed me. I woke up later, wet."

"That's it?"

Tim looked way. "Yes."

Gibbs sat down beside the bed. "McGee, if a witness had told you that, how would you have reacted?"

No response.

"McGee!"

"You're not doing what I would have done," Tim mumbled. There was no fire in his voice. No anger. No irritation. Not even disdain. Gibbs found that he would prefer Tim spitting mad to this dullness.

"What would you have done?"

Tim looked Gibbs in the eye for a few seconds and then away again.

"McGee?"

"You have all the information you need to know. Just because you don't have the patience to unpack it all isn't my fault."

Gibbs suppressed a smile. That had a glimmer of the old Tim in it.

"You know what we need to hear, McGee. Why not just say it?"

"Why don't you just ask?"

Another glimmer of spirit. Gibbs was glad of it, but he wasn't sure if he should try and get the spirit to grow into something more or if he should just get on with things.

"Who did you see?"

"A man."

Gibbs suddenly decided that the game they were playing wasn't interesting enough to supplant the need to figure out what's going on. He held out the picture of David Collier.

"Is this who you saw?"

Tim instant reaction couldn't be denied. He tensed up and involuntarily shifted away.

"How–?" Then, he realized what he'd given away and stopped talking.

"Is this who you saw, McGee?"

Tim stared at the photo and Gibbs lost his patience.

"I do not have time for this, McGee! Answer me!"

"Yes! Yes, that's who I saw! Are you happy now?" Tim asked, angry. "I answered your question. Do you believe me? Do you trust me or is it something that you're going to go off and find a way to discredit? Is it–?" He stopped speaking suddenly, breathing heavily. He looked away.

"Do you know who this man is?"

Tim shook his head, the fire suddenly gone, like pouring water on a fire.

"What do you know, then? You know something."

"I've...seen him before."

"You have? Where?"

Tim couldn't seem to pull his eyes away from the photo.

"A couple of places. I thought I'd imagined him...the first time."

"The person you thought you saw outside Soft-Tech?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Your friend told me."

"Oh."

"Where else?"

"Outside my apartment. When I went there with Judith to get my stuff."

"When?"

"Two days ago."

"You saw the same man and you didn't worry about it?"

To his surprise, Tim laughed. It was slightly hysterical which also surprised him.

"Why add to what I'm already worrying about? What would be the point of that? Why would I worry about the fact that I'd seen the same man twice when I have a murder on my head, when my breakdown could be grounds for drug dealers getting free, when my friends could be in danger, when my life absolutely sucks? Why in the world do you think I would waste my time worrying about seeing one man?"

"And you're sure that this David Collier is the man you saw at Matt Tamson's house?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't he just kill you?"

"Thanks."

Gibbs just rolled his eyes and then met Tim's gaze, widening his eyes inquiringly.

"He wants me to look crazy and off my rocker so that when the drug trial finally starts I'll look incompetent and the evidence I gathered will look unreliable and will have to be tossed out. My testimony won't be worth squat and they'll be that much more likely to get off."

Gibbs blinked. He hadn't thought Tim could possibly surprise him anymore, but he had managed it yet again. Not even Ducky had given him enough credit. Tim was not only aware of why he was a target, he had understood quite thoroughly the possible consequences. His current appearance, the way he was acting, they had lulled Gibbs into thinking that Tim himself had lost all the intelligence he had possessed before. It obviously couldn't be further from the truth...at least in some areas.

"Why hide it, McGee?"

"Why do you know about him?"

"Because he was hired as a private detective...by Antone Grant."

"Who?"

"Antone Grant."

"Oh." Tim licked his lips nervously. "I never did bother caring what their names were. Just another group of people who underestimated me."

"Like us?"

Tim shrugged. That was all. It was clear that he had no desire to get into that.

"You've been mugged three times since you moved to that apartment."

"Yes."

"Why?"

Tim's laugh was short and incredulous.

"I don't know. I didn't ask them why they were mugging me at the time."

"Don't you think it's odd?"

"Unfair, maybe...but I stopped expecting life to be fair a long time ago. If I seem to be a target, I can't really feel any surprise about that."

Gibbs stood up.

"You didn't kill Lance Corporal Smythe."

He turned to leave.

"You told me once that I either had to put the cuffs on myself or else find the person who did it. Why don't you put on the cuffs?"

"Because you're no more guilty now than you were then."

An answer. Finally. "No, I didn't kill him."

Gibbs turned back and was surprised to see tears in Tim's eyes and a horrible smile on his face.

"Life's not fair."

"No, it's not."

Another short laugh. "I just wanted to say that once."

"You haven't before?"

"No."

Gibbs locked eyes with Tim, not looking away. "There are two agents on duty outside your room."

"Okay."

Gibbs considered. His project was done, but was this really the time? ...Eh, why not. What did he have to lose?

"When you're released, there's something I want to show you."

"What?"

"Will you come and see it?"

"Come where?"

"To my place."

A flash of fear and anxiety.

"You don't have to. Just think about it." Then, Gibbs walked out, not waiting for an answer.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"He is all right, Ducky?" Ziva asked again.

"Yes, Ziva. He's fine, physically speaking at least," Ducky said with a smile. "Timothy will fully recover, thanks to the very quick actions of Matt and Judith. The doctors feel no reservation in saying that he will be fine."

"Where are they?"

Ducky sighed. "They are attempting to show their young son that all is well by following their usual routine. Even the closest of friends must place family first. They said they would come back in the morning."

Ziva nodded. "They trust him, Ducky."

"Of course they do. Timothy is a close friend of theirs."

"Why didn't we?"

"I wish I could tell you, my dear. I was not there during the key moments."

"Do you think that this situation is our fault?"

"Timothy being attacked? I highly doubt it. I doubt even that Timothy would try to place this at your feet. No, I think he will blame himself for it and will not even consider the idea that this might be blamed on you."

Gibbs came walking into the waiting room. "Let's go."

"He is all right, Gibbs?" Ziva asked.

"Yeah. More or less. We need to track down Collier. He's been watching McGee for months."

"Months?"

"Yeah. McGee has seen him before and identified him as the man who attacked him."

Ducky was surprised. "He remembered?"

"Yeah."

"He said nothing about regaining his memory to me."

"Don't know what to tell you, Ducky. ...but it's looking like Collier is after McGee and that he could be a suspect in the killing of Lance Corporal Smythe. McGee is officially under NCIS protection until we determine the risk to his safety."

"Does that mean he is no longer a suspect?" Ducky asked.

"Not officially. Can't take him off the list completely...but yeah, Duck," Gibbs said. "He's not a suspect."

"Good. Abigail will be glad to know that as well. She has hated the forced separation."

"I'm sure she has." Gibbs looked at Ziva. "Let's go."

Ziva opened her mouth to protest and then nodded in resignation. "Yes, Gibbs. You are staying, Ducky?"

"For a while. You could try to speak to him if you'd like."

Ziva looked tempted but shook her head. "No. I will wait until the time is right," she said and followed Gibbs out of the waiting room.

Ducky watched them leave and then walked back to Tim's room. Tim was awake, thinking bitter thoughts by the expression on his face.

"Timothy?"

"Hey, Ducky," Tim said, not looking at him.

"You lied to me. I'd like to know why."

"I didn't lie," Tim whispered. "When I said that to you, I did think it was Jewel."

"And yet you made no effort to disabuse me of that notion. When did you remember it was this man?"

Tim looked down. "I could have told you."

"Why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to."

"Why not?"

Tim looked up. "Were you wondering if I was losing it again?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Were you?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"That's why I didn't tell you. I was hoping that if I kept it up, I could get put away again. Ducky...I'm a coward. I'm a wuss. I want it to be easy...but it's not. Nothing is easy! Things that I used to do automatically, things I used to enjoy...things I used to say...none of it is easy anymore! I see one of...of them and I want to hide. I see one of them and I...I'm afraid."

"They won't hurt you, Timothy."

"I'm not afraid of them. I'm afraid of...of something else happening that...that makes me into what I was."

"Timothy."

"Ducky, you don't know what it was like...feeling that way. You don't know. I was...was totally out of control. I could see what I was doing. I knew it was wrong...but I couldn't stop doing it. I didn't want to!" Tim shook his head. "I don't want that again. I don't...and if I...I see them again. If I have to...to talk to them, listen to them..."

Ducky sat on the bed and grabbed Tim by the shoulders.

"Timothy, you had a choice! Yes, it was a choice confined by the actions of others, but you yourself must take some responsibility...and I don't mean that you should beat yourself up about what you did and what you chose. I simply mean that you need to accept that it was something you chose, not something that was forced upon you, not something inevitable. You chose to be angry. You chose to let that anger take the place of your reason. I understand why you chose what you did, but that doesn't remove the fact that it was a choice. How many times in the years since your university experiences did you let the things people say roll off you? How many times did you refuse to let the easy anger take precedence over everything else? How many times did you know when to hit back and when to keep silent? That was a choice every single time. You have a choice now. The problem is that you're refusing to make that choice and it's becoming your monster in the closet, the thing you fear most. In refusing to make a choice, you are making another choice, and you can't keep it up!"

"Why not?"

"Because look at what's happening! Life is forcing your hand! The people you wish to avoid have come back into your life, not because they are seeking you out but because circumstances have demanded it! You can't avoid this, Timothy, and if you approach feeling that you will be destroyed by the mere act of interacting with them, then you are condemning yourself to failure. It will not be their fault this time."

Tim turned his head away from Ducky and stared at the floor.

"You can't get away from this, Timothy. Hiding will only make it worse because you'll know that you postponed it. You can't avoid the damage that can come from your lack of action. You will never get back to who you were before all this began if you can't...as they say suck it up and do what needs to be done."

Tim still didn't look at him, but Ducky was surprised when he laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"You...saying suck it up. It just doesn't work, Ducky. You're...too British."

Ducky had to smile. "I'm Scottish."

"Either way."

"You think that the British Isles does not possess the ability to curse effectively?"

"Curse, yes. Slang? No." Tim took a breath and coughed, his lungs still slightly inflamed by his experience. "Ducky..."

"What, lad?"

"I don't know how to...to be normal around them. I barely can be normal around anyone."

"Then, don't try to be. Just do what you know has to be done. I think you'll find it easier to be 'normal' when you're not worried about being normal."

"I screwed up my life once, Ducky. Really screwed it up. I nearly killed myself. I don't want to do that again."

"Then, don't," Ducky said firmly.

"It's not that easy."

"No, but it's not as difficult as you think it is. How many times has Dr. Lewis tried to urge you to brave the real world, something you are still avoiding?"

"Lots."

"Exactly."

"I tried that. I can't go back."

"Your first attempt to come back into the workforce was negative, but it did not have to be the end of it. I still think that you should have tried places where you already had connections."

"It wouldn't have worked."

"It may have. It may not have, but you didn't even try to see if it would. That is the problem, Timothy. That is the real obstacle. Your own mind is what is keeping you from succeeding."

"I'm tired, Ducky."

"Then, rest until tomorrow, but don't think that even sleep will be an escape for you."

"I don't. Sleep only makes things worse."

"Not sleeping is infinitely worse."

"I know."

"Would you like me to stay?"

"No. I need to...to think. Alone."

Ducky studied the dejected young man in front of him, and was strangely heartened by what he saw. There was something different in Tim's expression. It was not much and indefinable at this point, but it was something. Ducky could only hope that there would be something to help Tim see the truth.

"Good night, lad."

"I hope so."

"As do I." Ducky stood up and left the room.