A/N: Sorry this chapter has taken so long- I've been struggling with writers' block on this one. I just couldn't seem to get this story to go where I wanted it to. Hopefully, I am at least partly back on track now. Thanks for your patience. F.
Sarah noticed Tim's deepening depression with a sense of helplessness. He was her big brother, her protector, her mentor; normally when something went horribly wrong it was Tim that she turned to. With Tim being the problem she needed help with, she felt lost. She knew one person that could help him- Tim's words as he told her why he wouldn't tell Abby how he felt were indelibly imprinted on her memory, along with the heartrending look he'd worn. But without knowing how Abby felt about her brother, she was reluctant to kick that particular hornet's nest.
So who did that leave? Her parents were worried enough about Tim as it was without adding to it. Tony? From everything Tim had told her- and from what she'd read in his books- Tony seemed like a bit of a playboy. He'd probably take Tim out and do his best to find him a woman. But that sort of casual...thing wasn't what her big brother needed. He needed someone that actually cared about him, not some bimbo. Ducky, or Gibbs? The two older men would be sympathetic, she was pretty sure, but that wasn't much help either.
The only thing she could do was wait.
...
The only thing that gave McGee any peace was his physiotherapy. At least here, he felt like he was accomplishing something. Maybe not every day, or even every week, but slowly his range of movement was improving. The little things that had irked him so much were becoming easier; simple, everyday things like being able to reach a high shelf took on so much more meaning when you'd been unable to do them for a long period of time. He set himself goals, things he wanted to achieve along the way. Returning to the field was his highest priority, but he knew there'd be many other high points. And low points.
Late one night, when he couldn't sleep, he went downstairs to his designated spot in the parking lot for his building. He pulled the cover off his Porsche- without a twinge from his shoulder, he noted- and looked at it wistfully. He missed his car. Abby came and drove it occasionally, to keep it running, and usually he went with her. But there was a big difference between being a passenger in his car, and driving the sleek silver bullet. It was one thing that all of the members of Gibbs' team shared- a love of fast, powerful cars. Tony was more overt about it, but it amused McGee that they all drove something a bit more flamboyant than their usual work sedan as their personal vehicle.
Unable to resist the temptation, he unlocked the car and slid into the drivers' seat. "Just once" he told himself. "Just once, around the block."
He started the engine and shifted the car into gear cautiously, waiting for the now-familiar protest from his shoulder. But none was forthcoming. Carefully, he manoeuvred the Porsche out of its slot and onto the street, changing up through the gears with a minimum of trouble. Gaining confidence, he accelerated, letting himself get lost in the thrill.
It wasn't until he'd pulled back into the parking lot and killed the engine that he realised he was both laughing and crying.