A/N: Are you still with me?

Thank you all for your incredible amount of patience with my ridiculously slow posting. However, I am pleased to announce that this is NO LONGER A WORK IN PROGRESS! Woohoo! I actually finished it!

No, this is not the final chapter- the last few chapters are with my lovely beta-reader, Trina109, right now. I'll post one a day until it's done. F.

When McGee arrived at work on the sixth day of Ziva's firearms training, the first thing he saw was DiNozzo peering around the corner of the partitions, looking towards the elevators. When he spotted McGee, he quickly moved away and pretended huge interest in the file on his desk. McGee slowed. It was obvious that Tony had been watching for him. He eyed DiNozzo suspiciously. Usually when Tony acted this way, he'd either been caught out snooping into something he shouldn't have, or he was in the middle of playing a prank on someone. He glanced across to Ziva's desk; she wouldn't meet his eyes either. What was going on?

He stopped in the middle of the bullpen.

"What?"

"Well, good morning to you too, Probie. I'm fine thanks, how about you?"

McGee ignored Tony's attempt to distract him.

"Tony."

"Fine, McHumourless. Commander Coleman dropped by looking for you. You know, from JAG? She said that the Adams case was coming up..." Tony must've caught the look on McGee's face as he trailed off lamely "anyway, she left this for you." He handed McGee a legal-sized envelope.

Taking it, McGee dumped his pack behind his desk and sat down heavily. He knew the envelope could only contain materials for Adams' court martial, and he really wasn't sure he wanted to open it. Better to get it over with, he told himself and started to peel back the flap. He looked up to see both Tony and Ziva were watching him. Tony opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the entrance of Gibbs.

"Grab your gear. We've got a dead marine downtown."

McGee waited until the flurry of activity had ceased and the elevator doors had closed behind his teammates before opening the envelope fully and removing the papers it contained. They were upside down. He eyed them as if he would a rattlesnake before turning them over. There was the usual legal speak, the date set for the beginning of Adams' court-martial, and a request...

"A Victim's Impact Statement?" he wondered out loud. He'd heard of them, but they weren't widely used, especially in military courts martial. His heart sank. They wanted him to put it all down on paper? To be read out in court, in front of everybody? Suddenly he felt like everyone was watching him. He needed someplace quiet to think about this. He picked up the papers and headed for the elevator.

...

Abby walked into her lab later than her usual start time. She'd had a few things she had to do before work, and they'd taken longer than expected. Quickly she flicked the lights on in the main part of the lab and started powering up her machines. Once she was satisfied that they were all in their start up routines, she went through to the section of the lab that served as her office.

An unusual scraping noise made her turn. McGee was getting up from where he'd sitting on the floor.

"McGee! What're you doing in here?" As her heart rate returned to normal- he had really startled her- she took a moment to survey him. He was looking tired, and worried, she decided. He'd been looking better lately, but something was bothering him today.

"Hey Abby. I was just...thinking."

"Oh. Okay." This wasn't unusual; he'd spent a lot of time in her lab since he was injured. Knowing that he'd tell her what he was thinking eventually, she turned her attention back to getting everything set up for the day.

"JAG has set the date for Adams' court martial."

She stopped and looked at McGee. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah."

She waited a moment, in case he wanted to say something else, then started sorting through her emails.

"Have you ever heard of a victim impact statement?"

She thought for a moment. "I've heard of them. That's where the victims write about how the crime affected their lives, right?"

He nodded. "They want me to do one."

From his tone, she could tell he wasn't sold on the idea. "And you don't want to."

"If it was just a private thing, maybe I would. But Abby, they read these things out in court. I don't want to sit there while they talk about how screwed up I am."

He started pacing. Abby could see how agitated, how upset he was, and she was surprised. He'd been fairly calm throughout this whole ordeal, apart from when she'd caught him having nightmares. It had worried her, how accepting he'd been. Accepting, and sad. This was more like the Tim McGee she knew.

"I don't want their- their pity. And I don't want to see them look at me and- and turn away. Everyone always turns away. Even Sar- even my sister."

"I didn't" she reminded him softly.

The smile he gave her was grateful and tinged with sadness. "I know, Abs."

He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You've got to."

He shook his head again. "No, it's a voluntary thing."

"I don't mean for the court martial, Tim. You've gotta do this for you. If you let Adams do this, if you let him destroy you, then he wins. He gets what he wants."

"Sometimes I think he already has, Abs. I'm not the same person I was 6 months ago."

She went over and hugged him. "I know, McGee." And she did know. Something of the innocence that had so characterised McGee even after 8 years of working the worst cases NCIS could throw at them had been lost. What was left was a much harder person, at least on the surface. Up until now she hadn't realised exactly how much hurt was bubbling underneath that surface. Her heart bled for her best friend.

"And that's why you've gotta do this. You've got to show him that he didn't win."

...

McGee was almost stumbling with weariness when he let himself into his apartment that night. After they'd finished work for the day, Ziva had dragged him off for another session at the firing range. He'd decided the firearms training was almost as good as a workout; at least the way Ziva did it. He wanted nothing more than to take his dog out, then crawl into bed and get some sleep.

But he couldn't; he'd promised Abby. She was persistent, he had to give her that. She had a way of talking people into doing what she wanted them to do that was practically impossible to resist. He thought about skipping it, at least for tonight, but he knew full well she'd know. Somehow she always did.

He took Jethro out for a quick jog and then showered. With one longing look at his bed, he settled himself at his desk and began to write.

'My name is Timothy McGee, and I'm an NCIS special agent. For the last 8 years, I've been part of the Major Case Response Team based at the Navy Yard. Being an NCIS field agent is my dream job. And now I may lose it because of Sergeant Adams' actions...'