CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Hello, son."

Tim's breath caught as his stomach clenched painfully. He swallowed. "Dad?" His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

The admiral stood and moved to Tim's bedside. "Yes, Tim. It's me. They told me you were awake, so I came right over."

Resentment instantly bubbled up inside McGee as he tightly gripped the sheet in his hand. Unlike my team who've been here all along. He glanced towards the door, Where was Tony?

"Tim, I've been so worried. How are you feeling?"

Tim simply shrugged, refusing to meet his father's eyes.

The admiral cleared his throat breaking the awkward silence. "Tim, I'm not really sure where to begin. You took a bullet for me. You were willing to sacrifice your life for mine. Even after the way I've treated you lately. I've misjudged you very badly. You are a son to be proud of."

Tim remained silent; his mind was whirling. Wasn't this what he'd wanted to hear all his life? That his dad was actually proud of him? But now, it felt hollow and meaningless. I had to almost die to gain his respect. What kind of father wants that?

"I hope you can forgive me, Tim, for being such a jackass. I'll admit I was hurt when you rejected the Naval Academy. It was like you rejected me. I never told you this, but it wasn't until I went to the Academy that my father and I finally bonded. The Navy did that. I wanted that same experience with you."

This was something his father had never revealed to him before. Tim frowned, clutching the bunched up sheet even tighter. But did it really make a difference? Why couldn't his father simply accept him for who he was? He wasn't anything like his father or grandfather or all those other seafaring McGee's. His father would rather reject him out of hand than try and find some other way to bond with his only son.

His father plowed ahead, apparently accepting Tim's silence as approval. "You're a good man, Tim, and I see that now. I wish I could take back all those things I've said about you in the past. I just, well, I just didn't understand you. The Navy I understood, but you were a total mystery to me. I'd like to think we can put those bad memories behind us and start fresh. What do you say? I know it would make your mother and grandmother ecstatic to think we'd worked everything out." His father gave him a hopeful grin.

Tim lifted his eyes to gape at the admiral. Did his father honestly think this little speech would make up for the years of bullying, verbal abuse, and humiliation? An image of himself lying trussed up on the floor of the safe house flashed through his mind. His father did that. His father had openly admitted to Gibbs, that as far as he was concerned, he had no son. And a simple apology was supposed to erase that? And when Tim thought about it, there actually hadn't been any apology at all. Just a request for him to forgive his father and feeble justifications for his behavior. Tim's anger rose.

"No."

His father blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I said, no." Tim ignored the pain both in his throat and his body as he pushed himself up against the pillows.

"Son, I don't think you understand. I want to fix things between us before it's too late."

"It's already too late, Dad." Tim grimaced in frustration as his voice gave out. He snatched up the tablet and began typing furiously. Finally he thrust the tablet into his father's hands.

Surprised, the admiral began to read aloud. "Dad, I tried all my life to please you and make you proud. You ignored and belittled me in return. No matter what I did, it was never good enough. When I told you I wasn't going into the Navy, you pretty much cut me out of your life completely. I had to take a bullet for you to finally get your attention. Now suddenly you're proud of me? My accomplishments in school and at NCIS weren't enough? Now I hear you're intent on proving Owens is innocent of trying to kill me. He was here. I saw him. He told me I would be a distraction and he wasn't going to let you give up your career for me. And yet, he means more to you than I do. I'm sorry Dad, I will always love you, but I'm through trying to make you a part of my life."

The admiral's voice trailed off as he scowled at the writing on the tablet. He raised his gaze to meet Tim's. "Surely you can't mean this, Tim. It's the meds talking. I've been an idiot. I freely admit that. And yes, I have been supporting Jason. I've mentored him for years and I simply cannot believe he would kill you. What purpose would that serve?"

Impatiently, Tim held out his hand for the tablet, typed quickly, and handed it back.

"Then he could have you all to himself without any competition from me." The admiral stared long and hard at the words before him. Then he shook his head.

"I refuse to believe anything so ridiculous. Jason is a good man. An honest man and until he tells me face to face that he attempted to actually kill you, I refuse to believe it." The admiral sighed. "And yes, Jason has been like a son to me in many ways. But, he isn't my flesh and blood. He can't replace you, Tim."

Tim slowly let himself collapse back against the pillows, the exhaustion already seeping back into his bones, his anger spent. "He already has."

Tim's head turned as the door suddenly opened and Gibbs and Tony entered carrying large cups of coffee. The men came to an abrupt halt studying the scene before them.

"What are you doing here, Admiral?" demanded Gibbs taking a step forward. "I gave the front desk a specific list of approved visitors and you sure as hell aren't on it."

The admiral drew himself up and regarded Gibbs coldly. "Tim is my son. I am entitled to visit him whenever I wish."

"Admiral, after the way you've been treating Tim, you gave up any right to your son long ago. I'm going to have to ask you leave." Gibbs' voice was hard.

"It's not up to you, Gibbs." The admiral's voice was even harder. He turned to McGee. "It's up to Tim." He took a step forward and placed a hand on Tim's shoulder. "Tim, please. Give me another chance. You're my son and I love you. This is something we both want."

Tim stiffened under the admiral's touch. Did he? After so much abuse, did he truly want to forgive and forget? His grandmother had assured Tim that his father truly did love him. Yet, up until this moment, the admiral had given little indication that that was true. Tim almost laughed as a thought occurred to him. Just how would it look if the admiral's own aide was convicted of attempting to kill the admiral's son and then the son rejected his father? Didn't say a whole lot of positive things about the admiral's judge of character.

Tim rubbed his brow. His head ached. He noticed his hands were starting to shake. He gripped them firmly together. How he wished all of this would just go away. If the admiral had come to him earlier, before all this went down, Tim would have welcomed his father with open arms. But now? It was too little, too late. He sighed and his weary gaze met his father's hopeful one.

"Good-bye, Dad."

The admiral blinked, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "Tim, you don't mean that. I'm your father, dammit! You can't just cast me aside."

"Like you did me?" With a surge of anger, Tim pushed himself back up ignoring the sharp stab of pain and the increasingly frantic beeping of his monitors. His voice was rough but this had to be said. "You threw me to the side, Dad. You left me tied up. It didn't matter to you that even though I was tortured, I never revealed the location of the safe house. I put my life on the line for you. What have you ever done for me besides ridicule and criticize me? Nothing I've ever done has ever been good enough for you. All I wanted was for you to love me and I wasn't even good enough for that. So now, I'm done."

Suddenly, McGee gasped and doubled over, his face going a ghastly gray. The alarms began to wail. Gibbs and Tony pushed the admiral aside and eased McGee back against the pillows. A moment later the doctor and a couple of nurses hurried in and shooed them all outside, firmly closing the door and pulling the drapes.

The three men stood silently outside the door, shocked at the sudden turn of events.

The admiral stared at the door in mute appeal. Then laid a hand on it. "Please be all right."

The words were barely above a whisper, but Gibbs heard them clearly enough. He really didn't get this guy. At this moment, Admiral McGee looked like any loving father, desperate for his child to be all right, but all his previous behavior indicated he could not have cared less about his only son. Even now, he refused to believe his aide could be guilty of attempting to murder Tim.

Gibbs turned to the admiral. "You know why he did it, don't you? Owens, I mean?"

Tony and the admiral both turned to look at Gibbs in surprise.

"I don't know what you mean," replied Admiral McGee, his face set.

"Owens was jealous. He figured if Tim was back in your good graces, he was going to be the odd man out. So, after McGee saved your life, Owens believed the only way to protect his position was to get rid of Tim. It's like the cuckoo bird. Kick the competition out of the nest."

"Agent Gibbs, do you honestly believe a grown man, a decorated officer in the United States Navy no less, attempted to commit murder because he wanted a father figure?" Admiral McGee's voice was incredulous as he turned to stare at Gibbs. "Lt. Owens has a father. He doesn't need me."

"Word is," put in Tony, "Owens' father left him and his mother to marry somebody else when Owens was a kid, and started a new family. Sounds to me like Owens' old man might not have been prime father material. And believe me, I understand about less than prime fathers."

The admiral scowled at DiNozzo. "Where do you get this crap? Dr. Phil?"

Despite the admiral's harsh tone, Gibbs detected just a small element of doubt.

"Anyway, Tim is my son. And despite what everyone seems to think, I love him. Maybe I'm not all touch-feely like some of you people, but I do love him and want what's best."

"You got a funny way of showing it," muttered Tony.

The admiral took a step towards Tony, his face darkening, when the door opened. Everyone froze and turned to stare.

The doctor came out and frowned. The tension in the air was thick. "Is everything all right out here?"

"Yes." Gibbs pushed forward. "How's Tim?"

The doctor gave them all another uneasy glance before answering. "He'll be all right. He got overexcited and his body reacted. He just needs rest and lots of peace and quiet." He now looked pointedly at each and every one of them. "No one is allowed in for the rest of the night. I've given him a sedative. Agent Gibbs, you are free to stay outside the room, but tonight, I want Agent McGee to be left alone."

"But…" the admiral began, his face turning red.

"No one, Admiral, is allowed in tonight," snapped the doctor glaring at him. "You people have done enough damage as it is. Now, if you'll excuse me…" He turned and headed down the hall.

Gibbs looked at Tony. "I'll stay. Ziva will be here in a few hours for her shift."

Tony opened his mouth, then shrugged. "Right, Boss, if you're sure."

"I am."

Tony nodded, glanced at the admiral, then headed towards the elevators.

The admiral stood awkwardly for a few moments, obviously undecided. Then he looked at his watch. "I better get to the airport. My mother and the others will be here soon."

A moment later, he too was gone.

Gibbs grabbed an empty chair from behind a nearby desk and settled into it. He sipped his coffee as he listened to the background noises of the hospital. He could hear the nurses quietly talking in McGee's room.

He thought about Tim and his father. He wished there was some way he could change things between them. It was very clear where Tim's insecurities and need for approval came from. Gibbs felt that over the years at NCIS, Tim had made some huge strides in those areas. He was proud of him. Then Admiral McGee reentered the picture and it was if those years never happened. Gibbs wondered what would happen once Tim recovered and returned to NCIS. Would he be able to pick up where he'd left off, or would the damage inflicted by his father cause Tim to regress? The fact that he'd essentially thrown his father out was a promising sign, but things were rarely so easy.

Gibbs sighed and leaned back, resting his head against the wall, comforted by the warmth of the coffee cup in his hand. He was deeply worried about McGee and his future, but for now, all he could do was wait.