After his conversation with Ducky, McGee threw himself into physiotherapy with renewed vigour. Palmer may not believe in him, but Ducky, and hopefully the rest of the team did- and that thought drove him on, pushing himself to his limits so far that his physiotherapist warned him against the dangers of trying to do too much too soon. He softened the rebuke by setting McGee a challenge.
"When you can dress yourself in your normal street clothes, we'll release you. Dress yourself without assistance" he stipulated. "You will still need to attend sessions three times a week, at least for now."
...
McGee practised. And practised. What, he wondered, did they mean by 'normal street clothes?' Habitually, he wore an undershirt to work; was that classed as normal street clothes? Getting into a button up shirt was awkward, but do-able without help. Getting his bad arm up to pull a t-shirt down over his head was another matter. The first time he tried it was almost as bad as the first physiotherapy session. He laughed grimly at himself. The simplest of actions were suddenly so much harder since he opened that damn storage locker door.
When he finally managed to get the shirt over his head, he felt like crying.
...
Gibbs had rarely seen Abby so excited. Since she'd found out that McGee would be released from the hospital today, the normally energetic Goth had been like a miniature whirlwind. Even the continued presence of the FBI tech, Steve, in her lab failed to irritate her. He hid a grin as she bounced out of the elevator. Technically, she was supposed to have taken the day off, something she rarely did, but it was like her to have come in check test results or something.
"Gibbs, Gibbs! I got a hit on those chemical tracers!" Abby had been trying to trace the origin of the C4 Adams had used for the Navy Yard bombing. She hadn't had much luck until now, mostly because the traces of marker chemical were so faint; unusually so. "I figured out how to concentrate the marker chemical traces so that Major Mass Spec could finally get an accurate profile. It's Czech, Gibbs."
"Czech?"
She nodded. "It was part of a batch that went missing almost two years ago while it was being shipped. Since then, the same chemical signature has been found in bombs in Somalia, Israel and Iraq, Gibbs. It looks like someone has tried to remove the tracers from the stuff Adams had, but it's definitely the same batch."
"You're sure, Abs?"
She gave him a look. "Of course I'm sure, Gibbs."
"Ok. Go on, go and get McGee."
That brought the smile back to her face. He could hear her boots jingling on her way back to the elevator as he gave Tony and Ziva the new information.
...
Abby was impatient the whole way to Bethesda. She was supposed to pick McGee up from the hospital, and then take him home to his apartment where his family was waiting for him. In the month since he'd been injured, she'd become good friends with Sarah, and she'd volunteered to pick Tim up when he was released.
When she saw him waiting for her in front of the hospital, her face split into a wide smile. He was dressed casually in jeans and one of his favourite jackets; Sarah or his parents must have brought him clothes. For the first time since the bomb blast, he looked like her Timmy. Not caring that she was double parked, she pulled over and jumped out of the car.
"Timmy!"
"Hey Abs." He grinned at her as he stepped back from the hug she gave him.
"Ready to go home?"
"You have no idea."
She hovered indecisively as they got to her car; she didn't know if she should try and help him or not. He caught her eye and gave her a knowing look, then opened the door and climbed in. Relieved, she went around to the driver's side and got back in the car.
...
It was good to be out of the hospital, even with the moment of awkwardness when Abby picked him up. He figured he had to get used to that. For now, at least, he was a semi-invalid, and people were going to try and help him even when he didn't need it. He'd tried to be subtle about rejecting Abby's help, and he hoped she'd get the hint. She probably would; Abby was one of the smartest people he'd ever met.
His family, however, was another matter. Sarah seemed to recognise his need for independence, being so independent herself, but his mother kept trying to assist him to do things that he could easily do for himself. He tolerated it for now, knowing that it was her way of showing how worried she'd been about him.
Overall, he was relieved when they finally left, late in the evening. He wanted nothing more than to take a decent shower and sleep in his own bed. But first, he had a phone call to make.
Picking up his cell phone, he unlocked it and selected the contact he wanted. He waited impatiently for the call to be picked up.
"Yeah. Gibbs."
"Boss, it's McGee..."
A/N: Ok, I have absolutely no idea if its possible to remove the chemical tracer from C4; I tried to research it, but I ended up at some very scary websites and I thought I'd stop before I ended up on a watch list somewhere lol.