Chapter 7

"No! No! Stop!"

The words were surprisingly clear, but the terror in them had Tony bolting out of bed, barely even registering that Tim sounded more normal than he had in weeks.

"Help! NO!"

Tony flipped on the lamp by Tim's bed and sat down.

"It's okay, Tim. It's all right. Wake up. Calm down. It's okay."

He kept talking as he tried to break through Tim's terror. Tim had actually moved, curling into a fetal position, apparently trying to protect himself. The fear had to be intense to not have the pain wake him up. He was breathing erratically and when Tony began rubbing Tim's back, trying to calm him down, he could feel Tim's trembling and tension.

"It's all right. Don't worry. You're not...in the forest or whatever it is that you're remembering. It's just a dream. It's okay."

After a few more minutes, Tim's body went limp and he lay there, tears running down his cheeks as he started to cry.

"It's all right, Tim. Really, it's okay. You're not in any danger right now. I hope. We're safe here. It's okay."

Finally, finally, Tim's eyes opened and he looked at Tony, with both fear and a little embarrassment. Tony was glad to see the embarrassment because it showed that Tim was thinking more like himself.

"S-Sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay," Tony said, for what felt like the millionth time.

"I'm sorry," Tim said again.

"It's okay," Tony said, again. "What was it?"

"I was running...through the...forest, and...and it was..." Tim closed his eyes. Tony didn't know whether that was because of his mind or because of his terror.

"Alone?" Tony asked.

"No. They were there. Coming after us."

"Us? Gibbs, too?"

"I don't know."

Tony tried not to show his disappointment, but Tim seemed to be remembering something more.

"Why are you in the forest?"

"They...found us. Supposed to...something. I don't know... I ..."

"Okay."

Tony took a breath and decided, three a.m. or not, tired or not, this was the time to get some information. He reached out and urged Tim up into a sitting position. This would hopefully help Tim wake up all the way, too.

"Okay," he said, yet again. "Tim, I need you to tell me whatever it is you know. I don't care if it's not everything. I don't care if it's not even close to everything. I just need to be on the same page as you. You're starting to remember stuff, and you need to tell me."

"What if...it's not enough?" Tim asked.

"It doesn't matter. If you know more than I do, then you know more. Just start at the beginning if you can and go from there. If there are things you can't remember, skip them and keep going."

Tim closed his eyes again, and Tony was afraid that this wasn't going to work, that Tim would fade away again and he'd still be stuck knowing far too little. Then, Tim took a couple of breaths and opened his eyes.

"It started...a few months ago. An early meeting."

"Without me."

Tim nodded once.

"Fornell needed help."

Every word spoken slowly and deliberately, both because Tim was trying to think and because it was still hard for him to articulate. Since everything had been improving, Tony hoped that it would continue on that track, but for now, he had to strive to maintain patience as Tim spoke at a rate that was just not normal.

"With what?"

"Buffalo...the field office. People...employees..."

"Doing what?"

"Infiltration."

"Why not go to the FBI for that? Why NCIS?"

"Paranoid. Worried that the...that they were in DC, too."

"Why not me?"

"Computers."

Tony smiled. That did make sense, even if it did gall him a little bit that he was kept out.

"Wanted to add you in, but Fornell said no."

"Who did?"

"Me."

"Well, thanks, Tim."

"Had to keep it...secret. Only early or at Gibbs' place."

"Were you making progress?"

Tim shrugged.

"Was the conference real?"

"No."

"Okay. So there must have been a reason for you guys to be coming up here. What was it?"

Tim shook his head again.

"I don't know."

"What about before you left? Do you remember anything from your meeting with Vance?"

A long pause and then a shake.

"No."

"Okay. So you were with Gibbs up here. Did you get separated?"

"Supposed to...meet."

"Where?" Tony asked, eagerly, not that it was likely for Gibbs to be in the same place nearly two months later.

"Trying to get there, but they found me."

Tim's eyes closed again as he neared the event that had done all this to him.

"I was running away, but they were all around. Heard dogs...and a gun."

"The guy who found you was hunting."

"I tried to get away from them."

"Why didn't they just shoot you?"

"I don't know."

"I'm not saying I wish they had, but beating you up seems like a lot of extra effort."

Another long pause.

"I don't know."

"That's fine. Anything else? Do you remember where you were supposed to meet with Gibbs?"

"Not in Buffalo. Out in the forest. Keep it...away from them. I was...in Buffalo."

"And?"

Tim's eyes were still closed.

"They found me."

"What were you doing?"

"A ...people involved. Something..."

"Were you alone?"

"They found me."

"Yeah, but before that. Was Gibbs with you?"

"They found me."

Tony wanted to scream at Tim to stop being so redundant, but he resisted. If this was the best Tim could do at the moment, that was what he'd have to accept. He just wanted to get at what Tim had in his head, and it was so frustrating to have him repeating himself.

Then, he paused and realized that Tim was saying they had found him, not them. So maybe that meant he had been alone at that point, although that meant that he'd have to figure out where Gibbs might have been. But if this was about people infiltrating federal law enforcement, then, that would explain why Tim was so afraid of contacting anyone. While he was in this state, and while they didn't know how far this might spread, it was definitely dangerous to be exposing themselves. Tony didn't like it, but it sounded like Tim had a good reason for being afraid of letting anyone know where he was.

"Okay, Tim. So you're not ready to tell me everything. That's okay. If you can get any other memory in hand, it would be great if it could be something about Gibbs, though. All right? You know that Gibbs would be okay to talk to." Then, Tony had a horrible thought. Was this about Gibbs? "He is, right?"

Then, there was a whoosh of relief when Tim just nodded his head without speaking. While Tony would find the idea of Gibbs being corrupt in that way to be laughable, he could easily see someone looking at the other things Gibbs did and assume that he would be willing to go the extra step over the line. That would just make things ten times worse.

"Good. Because I'm not ready to think Gibbs is the bad guy."

Silence.

"Tim?"

Just a deep breath. Nothing more.

"Are you ready to go back to sleep, now?"

Tim nodded.

"Do you want the lamp on?"

Another nod.

Then, Tim opened his eyes once more.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for...being like this. I can't...think straight. Everything is...off."

"It's okay," Tony said, lying through his teeth. It was not okay. It was so far from okay that he wanted to scream. He just accepted that this was the way it had to be. For now. Hopefully, just for now.

Tim closed his eyes and let out a long, slow exhale. He seemed to relax and Tony waited until Tim looked to be asleep again.

Then, he sighed and got up. He paced back and forth, trying to calm down again. This was so hard to deal with. He couldn't blame Tim for it. It wasn't his fault. That only made it worse because that meant he just had to accept the way things were. At this point, he couldn't make anyone pay for it. He couldn't get out of it. There was no way he could leave Tim here alone.

"I'm sorry, Tony."

The soft voice startled him and he looked over and saw that Tim was not asleep. Then, something that Tim had said before pinged in his brain. Tim had said that he had seen Tony pacing...and Tony only let himself do that when he thought Tim was asleep. That nervous energy would make how he felt all too obvious to Tim.

"I thought you were asleep," Tony said.

Tim shook his head.

"Why not? Aren't you tired?"

"Aren't you?"

"Not at the moment."

Tim raised an eyebrow looking so normal that Tony wanted to laugh. There was that silent skepticism that Tim conveyed so well.

"You could...leave."

Tony laughed humorlessly.

"You've got to be kidding, Tim. You're barely coherent, can't really get out of bed by yourself, can't feed yourself, can't dress yourself, and you're thinking that I'll leave? Not happening."

"You hate being here," Tim said, speaking very slowly and carefully, as if he was trying to make sure every word was correct.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm going to leave."

"You could."

"No, I couldn't. No more than you could leave if you were in my place."

To Tony's surprise, Tim levered himself into a sitting position. The effort clearly pained him, but he did it.

"I still can't really...remember. I can't leave here until I know that I can. You don't have to stay. I hate that you're here, that I brought you here to deal with this. I don't know...why I did when it was supposed to be secret. I should have...not done that."

Tony took a deep breath. Even when he was still a little addled, Tim was annoyingly obstinate, and it forced Tony to be explicit. Come to think of it, maybe that was Tim's ploy. He refused to allow Tony to talk around things by reiterating the same point until Tony had to deny it. If so, that was pretty devious.

"Tim, I admit it. I do hate being here. I hate being stuck here, not knowing what's going on, not knowing who I can trust. But I'm glad I can be here to help you. I don't care that you weren't supposed to ask for help. I don't care how long it takes, even if I'm going completely stir crazy by the end. I'm not leaving you here alone. And that's the end of it. Got it?"

Tim nodded.

"Good. Now, go to sleep for real this time, and I'll try to do the same."

Tim looked at him for a long moment and then nodded and slumped down on the bed. Tony helped him get a little more comfortable and then he walked back to his own bed and lay down. He stared up at the ceiling for a while and then rolled over and tried to get to sleep.

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

Tim woke up with a start. He had to admit that Tony was right about one thing. He was gradually feeling more normal, at least mentally. Tim was surprised at how much he still hurt after more than a month, but even that was getting better. His body ached but it wasn't the sharp pains he could remember from before. It was just an ache that reached down deep into his bones.

He lay where he was without moving for a few minutes. He just stared at the ceiling. He didn't want to wake up Tony, and Tony seemed uncommonly aware of whether or not Tim was awake.

As he lay, without moving, he tried to consider his own state in more detail. There was a distinct fuzziness in his brain that he couldn't ignore. He didn't know how much that fuzziness was affecting him, but he could acknowledge that it probably was affecting him somewhat. That fuzziness seemed to be obscuring a lot of what had led to him being in this position in the first place. He knew that Tony was really worried about Gibbs, but Tim just couldn't quite get at where Gibbs might have been. Surely, he wouldn't still be there at this point anyway. Would he? Tim had no idea. He'd been here for a long time already. However, even with all that, Tim knew it was getting easier to focus on things. His recent past was still kind of vague and patchy, but things were improving, just not as quickly as he would like.

Then, he turned his attention onto his body. He experimentally wiggled his toes. That didn't hurt. They hadn't done anything to his feet, Tim guessed. Then, he tried tensing his calves. That did hurt, but not too much, although he supposed that what was okay when it was just tension would be worse when he was putting extra pressure. It was harder to think of a way of tensing just the muscles between his waist and his knees, but there was definitely still pain there. Again, not as bad but still present. Then, he tensed his abdomen and there, he almost gasped. It definitely still hurt there. This must have been the focus of the beating. Maybe the rest of it was done when he had fallen to the ground or something.

Arms? Yes, they hurt, too, but more in an achy, sore muscle kind of way. In contrast, his hands hurt a lot more. Flexing his fingers was very painful. Why would that be? Because of a beating or because of fighting back? He couldn't remember, not really. Then, there was the pain in his head. They had definitely tried to bash or kick his head in. He could feel that.

So what that all boiled down to was that Tim knew his abdomen and his head (and, weirdly, his fingers) were the strongest sources of pain, but that everything was starting to improve. He just didn't know how long it would take for that improvement to occur. Should he focus on trying to improve his mind or his body more? Maybe if he could clear out the fuzziness in his head, he would be able to say who they could trust. But if he focused on his body, then, he'd be more able to deal with any potential fallout from contacting someone.

Where's Gibbs?

That question kept coming back to him, in part, because Tony's focus seemed to be in that direction.

"I think I might have made too much noise, Boss."

The memory came to him out of nowhere. Instead of moving or saying anything, he tried to pursue it. He could see himself, sitting at a computer...in an office, talking on the phone. Gibbs wasn't there. He was alone.

"Get out of there, McGee."

"But I haven't got everything, yet. I just hit the jackpot. There's still..."

"If they've made you, get out. Now!"

What happened after that? Tim tried to think of it. He could see himself going to the back stairs and heading out of the building, dropping the burn phone he'd been using into a trash can on his way. If they were tracking him down, he didn't want to give them a way to find Gibbs, too.

He could remember being worried, but not really afraid. Not right then.

...not until they shot out the tires of my car and I nearly crashed.

That was a new memory. He hadn't remembered driving at all until that moment. But he had been. Driving to link up with Gibbs.

And I started running when I couldn't drive anymore.

But they had caught up.

His mind resisted going back to that moment, but he tried to force himself to remember it. Maybe if he could clear that block from his mind, he'd remember more of the details.

Darkness. It had happened during the night.

There were at least five of them. He had tripped over a log, twisting his ankle and slowing him down.

Too much.

The first hit had been to his head.

He could feel it as if it had just happened. A heavy thwack that had knocked him to the ground.

Then, they had picked him up and...

"Tim? Are you all right?"

Tony's voice cut through the memory, jolting him out of his thoughts. While a part of him was irritated that he'd been interrupted, most of him was relieved to set it aside. He opened his eyes and saw Tony leaning over him in concern.

"Tim."

"Did I say something?" Tim asked.

"You were starting to make some weird noises. It's after eight, I slept in, too. Are you okay?"

"Trying to remember."

"How's it going?"

Tim just shook his head. He knew Tony would want and need to know what he could remember, but right now, he was too tired to share it. He let his eyes close and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"Hey, no worries. You want to try showering first or eating first?"

Oh, yeah. He was going to be trying Tony's suggestion of showering instead of letting Tony bathe him. It would likely hurt, but so would sitting up to eat breakfast. It was a choice between pain and pain, but maybe it would be good to see if the showering thing was going to work out and then rest before breakfast if he needed to.

"Showering," Tim said.

"Okay. I'll get the bathroom ready."

Tim nodded and watched as Tony walked to the bathroom with a chair in hand. Tim wasn't looking forward to this, but he figured that he could hardly protest, given that Tony had been so miserable for well over a month. Tim felt bad about that, too.

Why did I call him? I shouldn't have called him. Why didn't I tell them to call Gibbs? What was going through my thick skull at the time?

Tim didn't know, but he knew that he had made a huge mistake in getting Tony involved, and if he had any hope of succeeding, he'd try to leave Tony behind so that he'd be out of it.

"Okay, I'll help you get undressed, but then, I'll let you do the dirty work. If you need any help, just holler."

Tim nodded, thinking that the only reason he'd holler was if he was literally dying. Maybe Tony could read his mind because he suddenly smiled.

"And just to make sure that you have to ask for help when I know you'll need it, I'm leaving your clothes out here."

"I could probably manage it myself," Tim said, hating how slowly he was speaking and how slurred his own voice was. He knew he wasn't quite up to par yet, but he hated hearing himself talk. It sounded wrong.

"You probably couldn't," Tony said, seriously. "Ready?"

Tim nodded, although he wasn't really. Tony leaned over and put an arm around him, just under his armpits and helped Tim stand. Tim instantly felt dizzy and his head began to pound. There wasn't too much pain elsewhere just yet.

"You need a second?"

Tim shook his head, but he kept his eyes closed to reduce the dizziness. Tony helped him to the bathroom, and as little time as it took, Tim was aching by the time Tony helped him sit on the chair in the bathtub.

"Okay. Just sit there and rest for a second while I make sure everything is in your reach."

Tim nodded and willed the pain and weakness away. He hated this. After a little bit, he opened his eyes and watched Tony as he bustled around. There was really no other way to describe it. He was definitely doing things, but it was like he was trying to keep himself busy. Tim decided to see how aware Tony was and started to unbutton the shirt he was wearing, but the motions required dexterity that his fingers just didn't want to provide. It hurt.

In a second, Tony was there.

"Let me help you," he said.

In moments, the shirt was off and then, for Tim, the real embarrassment began. He knew that he couldn't really take off his pants by himself, even if they were just sweats, but this was humiliating. He hadn't had to get help undressing since he was a child, and to have Tony being the one helping him, of all people. It was just really embarrassing.

For his part, Tony didn't even acknowledge how embarrassing it was. He just helped Tim stand long enough to get everything off and then lowered him back to the chair. The shower had a handheld shower head and he pulled it down for Tim and then turned on the water.

"Let me know when you're done," he said.

Left alone in the bathtub, Tim didn't want to do anything. He wanted to get back in bed and lie down without moving.

Wimp. Get moving. You can't get better if you don't do anything.

With a deep breath, Tim picked up the shower head and began the laborious process of getting clean. It took him quite a while and it was painful and slow. Still, when he was done, he had to admit that it felt good to be clean.

He started to reach over to turn off the water, but he put too much pressure on his abdomen and he couldn't suppress the moan.

...and Tony was right there, leaning over to turn off the water and helping Tim straighten up.

"How did it go?"

"Fine," Tim said.

"Right. You ready to get dressed?"

Somehow, the pain and exhaustion had managed to sap Tim's embarrassment. He just nodded and let Tony dry him off.

Before he knew it, it seemed, he was clothed and Tony was helping him back to bed.

"Just rest, Tim. I'll get breakfast going when you're ready for it."

Tim wanted to protest and say that he could do it, but he couldn't. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried not to cry, both because of pain and because of frustration.

And in seconds, he was asleep.