Chapter 9

After dinner, they watched TV for a little while, but Tim said he was tired and so they both went to bed. Tim closed his eyes instantly after Tony helped him lay down, but as soon as the light was out, he opened his eyes again. He lay there, unmoving until he heard Tony breathing evenly. That was no guarantee that he was asleep, but it was the best he could do. He didn't want to bother Tony more than he already was, and he really wanted some time to himself.

Tim sat up, ignoring the ache from his still-healing muscles and the dizziness from his still-healing head.

The physical stuff was fading in importance. It still hurt. He still felt wrong, off-kilter, damaged, but what was worse was that his emotional weakness was keeping him from making this over for Tony. He had to remember, even though he didn't want to. ...but he did...but the idea of it terrified him. All in all, he was afraid of going through all this again, but he hated that he was making Tony's life so miserable.

...and he hated that he wasn't sure if he would normally be thinking this way or if all this anxiety was just a part of being beaten almost to death.

The thought made him take a long, deep breath, trying to keep himself from freaking out. He made sure to exhale softly because Tony seemed to hear the slightest noise he made.

Can I do this?

That was the question. Tony was pushing him to remember. Gibbs had ordered him to remember.

...but could he do it?

Tim didn't know. Thinking back to that day...night...whatever... It made him panic. It was a mindless reaction to a memory and even when he tried to control it, he felt his heart rate increasing and his body tensing in fear.

Why?

It wasn't like he hadn't faced frightening situations before. Why had this one made him into such a quivering imbecile?

Slowly, he eased himself to the edge of the bed. Slowly, silently, he put his feet on the floor. Then, he put his hands onto the mattress and pushed himself upward. It was hard. It hurt. He was dizzy.

But he was upright by himself.

Tim stood where he was, with the back of his legs touching the bedframe as he tried to stabilize himself enough to walk. Then, he took a step. And another. He paused to stabilize himself again. Then, he walked a couple more steps. Another pause. At first, he wasn't sure where he was going, but by the time he'd taken about ten steps, he realized that he was headed for the window. Why the window? Tim didn't know. He didn't really care, either. He had walked to the window alone. He hadn't awakened Tony, and now, he could sit down and think.

He sat there in silence, facing the window, thinking.

He sat there for hours.

What did I see?

In actuality, he knew what he had seen. He had found a list of people involved, people whose names had been on the manipulated case files. But what names? And how many would be enough? Had he found them all? What if he hadn't? Would the names he found be enough?

I want to go home!

That thought came out of nowhere. It was the first time he'd allowed himself to think about doing just that. Up to this point, he'd felt so strongly that he couldn't go back that going home wasn't even considered.

But he did want to go home. He didn't want to be stuck here. He didn't want Tony to be stuck here. If he could just remember.

...but what if he did? What would happen?

His thoughts kept running around in circles all through the night and while he was tired, he couldn't calm his mind enough to sleep.

So he stayed in the chair and stared out the window.

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

Tony woke up and realized that it was light in the room, or at least, it wasn't the darkness of the middle of the night. Had he really slept without waking up once? It had to be a first since coming here. He stretched and sat up.

Then, he had a moment of utter panic when he looked over and saw that Tim's bed was empty.

But a soft sound quickly clued him into the fact that Tim was still in the apartment. He was just sitting in the chair by the window instead of in his bed as Tony would have expected.

In fact, Tim was asleep in the chair, his head leaned back, his mouth open, which would surely lead to snoring at some point.

What was he doing there? How had he got there? Tim wasn't really walking on his own.

Was he?

But why was he sitting in a chair so early and how long had he been sitting there?

"Tim?" Tony said, softly, not wanting to startle someone who was still so easily frightened.

Suddenly, there was a loud snort and the promised snoring materialized. In spite of everything, Tony couldn't suppress a chuckle. It was almost comforting that Tim could do something so Tim-like as to snore loudly.

After a few seconds, he got out of bed and walked over. That was probably not very comfortable, and the last thing Tim needed to be made more uncomfortable than he was with every waking moment. He knew that moving Tim might wake him up, but he couldn't really think of another option.

Carefully, he took hold of Tim's shoulders and tried to change his position just enough to make him comfortable.

It didn't work.

As soon as he moved him, Tim winced and his eyes fluttered open, just for a second. Tony waited to see if Tim was actually going to wake up. Part of him didn't want Tim to wake up. Part of him did so that he could ask Tim what in the world he was thinking.

Then, Tim took a deep breath, winced again and opened his eyes. He looked around and saw Tony leaning over him.

"Tony..."

Tim pushed himself upright, grimacing. Tony reached out to help, but Tim shook his head.

"Did you walk over here?" Tony asked.

Tim actually laughed a little. It sounded weary and pained, but it was a laugh.

"Using the term loosely."

"Why?"

"To think." Tim sighed. "I hate being stupid like this, Tony."

"You're not stupid," Tony said, wishing that he didn't have to play this role of cheerleader when he was not in the best of moods himself.

"Yes, I am. I'm trying not to be, but I am. I can't stop the way my brain keeps working. I want to remember everything, but I'm afraid of what will happen if I do. I can't think past what they did to me, but I don't want you stuck here with me. I want to go home, but I'm afraid to go home."

Tim was starting to get worked up, and Tony didn't want that. Tim became unreasonable when he was worked up. Tony swallowed his own irritation and tried to stop the meltdown before it started. He wished that this wasn't necessary. It was just another indication that Tim wasn't right.

"Tim, stop. You know that this won't help. Just stop and take a breath."

Tim covered his face with his still-marred hands.

"I wasn't like this, was I?" he whispered.

Tony grimaced and then took a breath. He reached out and pulled Tim's hands away from his face, making sure his grip was gentle. No sense in adding to the problem by causing Tim pain.

"Tim, look at me."

Tim's eyes opened and Tony could see the roiling emotions that Tim just couldn't control right now.

"No, you weren't like this. It's okay that you are right now. You'll get better. And do you know what will help you get better?"

"What?"

Tony smiled. "If we can go home so that you can get help with all this stuff."

To his relief, Tim managed a tremulous smile himself.

"Now, why did you walk over here?"

"To try and think right, but I can't, Tony. I can't think right."

Now that there was a definite time limit that they'd be here, Tony found himself getting really antsy. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted Gibbs to get here so that someone else could be in charge. He wanted to get back to DC so that he could stop being stuck here with only Tim for company. He just wanted this to be over, but he struggled to set that desire aside while Tim was genuinely trying to make this better.

"You will, Tim. But if you make yourself panic every time, all you're going to do is wear yourself out for nothing. You might as well wear yourself out doing something."

"Like what?" Tim asked.

"It's your day to shower. You feel up to it?"

Tony saw the look on Tim's face. The answer was no, but Tony was pretty sure that Tim would say yes anyway. He forced another smile.

"Hey. This is the last time you'll have to worry about it! Gibbs will be here in two more days!"

He could the uncertainty about whether or not that was a bad thing as well.

"You ready?"

Tim nodded.

"Yeah."

Tony reached out to help Tim stand.

"No. I'll do it," he said.

Tony stood back and watched as Tim weakly and painfully pushed himself to his feet. He could see Tim's arms shaking and the grimace as he used muscles that still weren't used to it, muscles that had been torn and damage by the people who had wanted him dead.

But finally, Tim was upright.

"You going to walk to the bathroom by yourself or do you want me to help?" Tony asked.

"Help," Tim whispered.

"Okay."

Tony moved over and gave Tim the support he needed to make the trek to the bathroom. Tony could feel Tim's whole body shaking, but he had stood up by himself. He helped Tim sit on the chair and then withdrew to give him some privacy.

Once he was alone in the room, Tony let out a weary sigh and rubbed his hands over his head. He wished, how he wished, that Tim would just be normal again. How he wished that he could escape this prison. He wanted to run away from this place, never be stuck inside again, never have to deal with Tim again.

And he knew that it wasn't Tim's fault. He knew that Tim was trying his best, that it was amazing how well he was doing when one considered that his only therapy, physical or mental, was coming from a guy who knew nothing about either physical or psychological therapy.

They were going to need a break from each other when this was over.

Over. Oh, it needed to be over. Gibbs would be here in two days.

Tony tried not to think about what it might mean if he wasn't. No matter what Tim said, they would leave in two days. If Gibbs wasn't here by then, they were still leaving. No matter what. Tony was not going to stay in this apartment for more than two more days. No way. No how.

He was startled to hear the water turn on in the bathroom. Tim had done it by himself for the first time. Tony was glad, but he couldn't help but listen closely to make sure that nothing went wrong in there.

After about ten minutes, the water went off. Tony walked over to the door.

"You okay in there?"

"Yeah," came the weary reply.

"You need help?"

"Not yet."

"Okay."

He waited for another ten minutes and then, Tony knocked again.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"You need help?"

"Yeah."

Tony opened the door and saw that, to his relief, Tim had managed to get his pants on by himself, but the shirt had fallen to the floor, and Tim's shaking arms looked to be barely holding him upright. Quickly, Tony picked it up and helped Tim get it on.

"You want to rest first or have breakfast?" Tony asked.

"Breakfast," Tim said, softly. "Then, rest."

"Okay."

Tony helped Tim walk out of the bathroom and over to the table. Tim was pale and shaking, but he sat down and stayed sitting, instead of slumping.

"Smoothie all right with you?"

"Yeah," Tim said.

Tony got the feeling that Tim wouldn't complain about anything Tony said at the moment. He was too tired. So he grabbed the stuff he needed for the smoothie. It would be easier for Tim to eat it and it would have plenty of nutrients in it. ...since Tony would make sure it did. He blended it all together, poured it into a glass and put a straw in so that Tim didn't have to pick up the glass to drink.

"Here you go," Tony said.

"Thanks," Tim said.

That was all. He drank it fairly quickly and then Tony helped him back to the bed. Tim lay down and his eyes closed almost instantly. He hadn't said much, but that was par for the course as far as things had been going. When Tim got tired, he stopped talking.

Tony watched until Tim relaxed and was breathing evenly. He seemed to be asleep. Even if he wasn't, he was no longer as tense and that was good, too.

...so Tony went back to the kitchen and started to clean.