Chapter 22

"Davidson!" Gibbs called again. Then, he saw her on the back of an ambulance, sitting with her arms around a frightened woman who was staring in despair at the burning duplex. He hurried through the emergency personnel to get to her. "Agent Davidson," he said once more.

She looked at him and smiled, unabashedly frightened by what had just happened. Her face was streaked with soot, much like the woman beside her.

"Hi, Gibbs." That was all.

"You all right?"

She nodded, but there was a sheen in her eyes that couldn't entirely be chalked up to all the smoke in the air.

"I didn't see a sign of an explosive," she said, her voice slightly shaky. "...but they could have had one. Obviously, they did."

"When you get a chance," he said.

"Yes, Gibbs," she said, nodding again in understanding.

"Everything...my clothes...my computer..." The woman began to cry. "All gone!"

"I know. At least you're safe," Jamie said gently. She tried to smile again but didn't make it this time. She just let the woman cry on her shoulder.

Gibbs gave her a knowing look and headed off to talk to the people in charge of the scene. ...so that he could take control.

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

"Okay, McGee, there's a bedroom back there. Make yourself...at home," Tony said, recalling all too well just what Tim's home looked like right now. The safe house wasn't much...but it was far and away better than where Tim was currently living.

Tim hobbled into the bedroom like an old man. He had taken some of the prescription painkillers on the way over and it had made him distinctly groggy. Probably made things easier on all concerned.

"Thanks." That was all he said. Nothing more. Tony and Ziva watched him carefully sit down on the bed and then lay flat. His eyes closed and then nothing.

"He does not look very good," Ziva said softly.

"He just got shot at six times, Ziva," Tony said. "Of course, he doesn't look good."

"That is not what I mean. He looks...defeated, Tony."

Tony stared at Tim for a few seconds as he lay stiffly on the bed and then walked away.

"Tony!" Ziva said. "Are you not worried?"

"We're not going to do this again, Ziva."

"Do what?"

"Talk about him instead of to him. When he gets up...then we'll talk."

"What if he will not talk? I am worried about him...not because I feel he is not good enough. I am worried because he has been hurt...many times. Too many times for any one person to take. I want to help him."

"We'll talk to him, Ziva. We will. This time...we'll talk."

Ziva nodded. "Very well. I will secure the area."

"Okay."

Tony walked toward the kitchen and sat down, thinking about Tim's life as it now stood. ...and about the typewriter currently sitting on the counter in his own apartment. When would be the right time to give it to him? Not now, certainly. ...or maybe... He shook his head. There was no reason to show off that he had purchased the typewriter Tim had given up...seemingly voluntarily. He sat down at the table and sighed. Then, he looked back toward the room where Tim had retreated.

Tim was lying on his side...eyes open, looking at him.

"Hey, McGee."

"Hi."

"I thought you'd be tired enough to be asleep already."

"I am."

"But you're not?"

A slight smile. "Not yet."

An awkward silence fell as Tim stared at him without speaking. Tony couldn't think of anything to say. By the time Ziva returned from her scouting, Tony was ready to scream just to break the silence.

"All is clear," she said.

"You sure?" Tim asked from his room.

Ziva turned in surprise to him. "I did not realize you were awake."

"I am."

"I am sure," she said. "You are safe tonight, McGee."

The smile that flitted briefly across Tim's lips was not one of happiness or relief. It wasn't even one that expressed much reliance on Ziva's assessment.

"For tonight," he echoed and then winced and rolled over so that his back was to them.

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

Jamie was agitated. Gibbs could see it and it surprised him. She was usually almost as unflappable as he himself was. She had managed to disentangle herself from the other resident of the duplex about twenty minutes after he arrived, and she joined him in asserting NCIS' jurisdiction of the case. Lovitz' entire team arrived only a few minutes after that. The bomb squad was there, Metro PD, as well as the fire department. In short, the block was full of law enforcement from every level. Once Lovitz' team had been brought up to speed, they took over the basics while Gibbs took Jamie aside to talk to her about what she'd seen.

"You all right?" he asked as they sat in the sedan.

"Yeah...just a bit shaky, I'll admit." She smiled and then looked out the windshield. The house was still ablaze but the fire crew had it more or less under control. It was just a matter of getting the fire out. They weren't worried about it spreading any longer at least.

"It's...I can't even explain it."

"Explain what?"

"How I feel right now...but...I can tell you what happened." She took a deep breath and sat up, obviously shaking off her anxiety.

"So?"

"I was waiting as instructed. Collier got here and went inside. He was carrying a shoulder bag but nothing else. I called you and the other car pulled up. One of them was carrying a briefcase, the other a shoulder bag. I figure they must have been whoever hired Collier in the first place."

"Did you recognize them?"

Jamie shook her head. "I didn't...but if they're one of the people involved in the drug dealing case...I don't know all the players involved there. Grant, I know...and Noreen Sharp, but they had too many underlings for me to know them all on sight, in the dark."

"That's fine. Did you at least get a look at them?"

"Not good enough to identify them. I can give you basic build but nothing concrete. Sorry, Gibbs. Maybe enough of their car survived."

"Maybe." He didn't have much hope for that...and Jamie didn't seem to either. It was too close to the house and had caught on fire after the explosion. "What else?"

"They never came out the front door. I didn't hear anything; so either they killed Collier without firing a shot or else he wasn't expecting the bomb...and set it off himself. They must have left through the back. I figure that they decided Collier knew too much and so they needed to get rid of him. He's already failed to kill McGee and if they know that we're not fooled by Lance Corporal Smythe's murder, then they've been wasting money on Collier and McGee is still a threat."

Gibbs nodded. It made sense.

"Now, how are you doing?"

Jamie laughed shakily. "I heard that woman start screaming right after the explosion. Couldn't wait for the fire department to get here; so I went in and got her. I didn't even think about someone being home next door. The lights were out...and I just didn't think." She looked at the burning duplex. "Gibbs...I dropped the ball tonight."

"How? Because you did what I told you to do and stayed out of the way?"

"I didn't anticipate. I didn't think about the possibility of Collier's employers deciding to get rid of him. I didn't think about the woman next door. I just didn't think...and Collier's dead...and that woman has lost almost everything but the clothes on her back."

"None of which was your fault, Davidson," Gibbs said firmly. "I didn't think about Collier being cut out of things either, and I didn't expect him to be killed. I certainly didn't plan on a bomb after we got rid of his booby-trap. Heck, we don't even know why he came back to his place. He must have realized that we'd been there...and we won't be able to find out. It's not your fault."

"Maybe I was wrong to stay on after I found out I was pregnant. Maybe I should have stopped right away."

"Do you feel physically-incapable of working?" Gibbs asked.

"No. I feel fine. Haven't even had morning sickness."

"Do you think it's clouding your judgment? Do you think that, if you weren't pregnant, you would somehow have known just what to do here?" He let some sarcasm infuse his voice.

Jamie laughed and shook her head. "Put like that, it sounds stupid. I guess I just wasn't ready to have someone die on my watch, Gibbs. It's my first."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Out at Norfolk...not too many people were killed at all, and even fewer while we were investigating. To have Collier die...right in front of me...I don't know. It's not what I was expecting."

"No one does, usually."

"Guess not." Jamie took a deep breath and let it out. "So what now?"

"We investigate. But you go home and come back tomorrow. Lovitz'll finish up here and we'll start fresh in the morning."

"You sure, Gibbs?"

"Yeah. Go."

"Thanks. Is McGee all right?"

"He'll be all right, but I don't think he is right now."

"I understand. Good night."

"'Night."

Jamie got out of the car and walked away. Gibbs leaned back against the seat for a few seconds and sighed.

"Why didn't you bother to ask?"

Tim's shouted question, his demand for understanding. It had affected a lot more than just how Gibbs thought of Tim. Would he have thought to ask Jamie how she was feeling about what had happened if Tim hadn't demanded that of Gibbs before? Maybe. Maybe not. He was usually better about that with women than with men as a rule...but would he have been intent enough to have realized that how Jamie was feeling about it all? He could have lost another agent just because Jamie was feeling discouraged about someone dying while she was so close to it.

He hoped that had been enough. Jamie was generally quite grounded and so to have her questioning her abilities was a surprise and an unpleasant one at that. Well, he'd have to see what tomorrow brought. She might just need some time to decompress...and her husband would definitely help with that.

With another sigh, Gibbs looked at the house which was mostly smoldering now under the constant streams of water being directed at it. This was an unexpected twist to the case. Their prime suspect in the murder of Lance Corporal Smythe and in the attempted murder of Tim McGee was now the victim of murder himself. It had to be related to the drug case in some way, but who exactly had come to the house? Had murder been the intention all along? How much did these people know? And if they knew so much about the investigation, how had they found it out?

Too many questions...and Tim's life...possibly his sanity as well...hinged on figuring all this out. Without solving the case, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to try helping Tim repair his tattered psyche.

"Gibbs!"

"Coming, Lovitz," he called back and got out to finish up the investigation...for tonight.

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

Tim heard Tony and Ziva talking softly. The phone had rung earlier, but he hadn't heard what the call was about. He couldn't discern their words but what he had heard earlier had been enough. Like Gibbs, they were displaying a disconcerting amount of real concern for his well-being. It didn't seem fair that they were doing this now as opposed to before. Still, he wasn't sure he quite trusted their good will just yet.

You could talk to them now.

No. He didn't want to do that.

Coward.

Yes, he was a coward, but he was also feeling loopy from the pain medication and he was tired and he hurt. He didn't want to have what would be yet another difficult conversation while he was so not engaged with what was currently going on around him. Tomorrow was soon enough. He hoped.

...and what would happen to him tomorrow? Who would come after him? Would someone be killed this time? What would happen? He was worried about that. He remembered what James had said to him about fighting against the feeling of needing to be in control.

No more fighting tonight. Just sleep.

Of course, even when he didn't fight his fear of his teammates, his need to be in control...there was still the fight against his own memories.

That was a fight he never won.