Disclaimer : Still own nothing. Just having fun.
Author's Note : Again, many thanks to those who leave reviews. I appreciate the support.
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Thursday November 2, 2006 - 4:51pm - St. Catherine's Hospital – Capitol Hill, Washington, DC –
"Come on, Probster, time to wake up. We're here."
Peeling his face off the passenger window of Tony's Mustang, Tim stares blankly at the car's dashboard. He doesn't know where "here" is; the last thing he remembers is the interior of the NCIS garage. Stifling a yawn, he tries to push the exhaustion from his muddled brain. After a week crashing on Tony's sofa, he just wants a night in his own bed. Even though both Gibbs and the FBI say it's safer until the cartel case is over, Tim won't last much longer at his friend's home.
I don't know why Tony stays up so late every night.
Tim glances out the window, frowning at the white bricks of an unfamiliar building. When he notices people in blue scrubs sneaking a cigarette, his brow knits in confusion. He just met with an orthopedic surgeon this morning…there's no way he should be back again already.
As he turns to ask Tony what's going on, Tim's right shoulder connects against the door. Stars swarm into his vision and he writhes in his seat. Fighting to keep lunch down, he leans forward to bury his face in his backpack.
The stench of his dirty laundry lurches his stomach again, and he dry-heaves.
"Whoa, whoa, Probie, not in the car. I just had it detailed," Tony yelps, jumping out of the vehicle.
When the door slams, Tim's stomach rolls again. He doesn't notice that his door is open until the brisk November air hits his flushed skin. He sucks in a deep breath.
Tony crouches to look at Tim's face.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
Tim doesn't have the strength to force a brave smile. When the nausea finally passes, he props himself up in the seat, checking down the block in both directions. None of the cross streets nor the long building right in front of them look familiar. He notices a sign with the crucifix and logo for St. Catherine's Hospital, already illuminated for dusk.
His eyes flick to Tony's concerned face.
"We aren't in Silver Spring."
"Yeah, I know."
"I thought we were going to my place to get my computer."
"We are." Tony shrugs. "I just had to take a short detour. So let's go?"
Tim can't manage a purchase point to get out of the car so he takes Tony's extended hand. With his right arm in an immobilization sling and a looming surgery, his teammates have gone out of their way to be overly nice to him. While he appreciated it at first, their slowly takes its toll.
"Thanks," he mumbles nonetheless.
"You're welcome." They approach the entrance in silence. "Say, Probie, can you even play video games with one arm?"
Tim's lips pull into a small frown that Tony doesn't see. They pass through a cigarette smoke cloud that surrounds a group of patients in hospital gowns. By the time they enter the pristine foyer, Tim's lungs burn. In the space that resembles an upscale hotel lobby, the few shabbily dressed people dozing on the couches look out of place. Based on the disinterested security guard in the corner, this must be commonplace.
When Tim stops to look around, Tony grabs his arm, dragging him towards the elevators.
"Already know where we're going." He hits the call button. "You sure you're okay?"
"Look, Tony, we've been over this. I'm fine. For the love of G-d, just stop asking me," Tim snaps.
Tony nods unconvinced, leading the way into the elevator when it arrives.
As the doors slide closed, Tim looks at his reflection in the mirrored wall for the first time in days. The dark circles under his eyes and the bruises on the right side of his face are a sickly purple under the fluorescent lights. Throw in the sling, and Tim finally understands why Tony constantly asks how he feels.
The car lurches under his feet and he meets Tony's gaze in the mirror.
Unable to hold it, Tim looks away to study the ceiling tiles. Still feeling his friend's eyes on him, he pinches the bridge of his nose.
"McGee, are you sure you're –"
"No, Tony, I'm not." Tim inhales sharply. "I'm not okay. Are you happy now?"
Tony hits the emergency stop button and the elevator groans to a halt. When the back-up lights flicker on, a quiet alarm begins to sound.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"What'd you expect me to say? My shoulder's killing me. I can't sleep because I'm terrified the cartel's going to kill us…and I'm pretty sure that my career might be over. Is that what you want to hear?"
Tony shifts his weight. "Well, if that's what you're worried about…"
"That's all I do anymore. Worry." Licking his lips, Tim chuckles humorlessly. "What if it doesn't get better?"
"It will, but it takes a while. I couldn't sleep for weeks after my first undercover assignment."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I ended up on sleeping pills until I could handle being home again. I took a long vacation to clear my head, almost left the force," Tony admits, leaning against the wall. "Why didn't you go on leave?"
Tim lets out a broken sigh. "My doctor actually recommended it, but I just can't. I can't sit at home waiting for the cartel to come and get me. Gibbs didn't want me alone either…said I should be around you and Ziva." Laughing sorrowfully, he stares at the floor. "I can't even protect myself."
The silence stretches as the alarm drones on, grating Tim's already frayed nerves.
"I doubt the cartel's coming to get you, Tim. When I talked to my old partner last week, he told me that there's a huge turf war to find Carreras' successor. In fact, whoever takes over will probably send us a fruit basket…I call the pears." When he cracks a grin, Tim doesn't bother to match it. "Maybe you should take a vacation after things settle down? It'll do you some good. I'm thinking about hitting the beach after the trial. I haven't been to the Bahamas in years."
"Maybe I'll go see my mom in Dallas after my shoulder surgery. She remarried a few months ago and I haven't met my – "Tim cringes at the word " – step-dad yet."
"I bet you'll have a great time. Life can't stop because of this." There's a short pause as a sly smile creeps onto Tony's face. "You called Annika yet?"
Tim's cheeks flush at the mention of her name. Of course, he already heard from he. After he got her number, Tony pestered Tim until he called her. Her calm voice and throaty laugh enthralled him so much that they've spoken every day since he left Baltimore.
"Yeah, she's coming down this weekend."
"Good. I'm going bowling with Abby and the nuns on Saturday –" Tony leers at him "- so you'll have the place to yourself for a couple hours. Just don't do anything on my couch, got it?"
Blush deepening, Tim shifts his weight. While he tries to come up with a reply, a small call box on the elevator wall lights up and a quiet voice echoes from its tinny speaker.
"Sirs, please remain calm. Help will be here soon."
Raising his eyebrows, Tony presses the button next to the speaker. "Thanks, but we are calm."
"I know…I know, help will be here shortly. Just try your best to remain – " Rolling his eyes, Tony releases the emergency switch, and the elevator groans to life. "Oh, it seems the technical malfunction has been resolved. Are you both okay?"
"We're fine, thanks," Tony says, shaking his head as the elevator climbs to its original destination.
The doors slide open to reveal a flurry of activity. Tony's firm hand on his good shoulder propels Tim through the frustrated looking group waiting for the elevator. Squinting against the bright overhead lights, Tim watches the individual patient rooms pass them by.
"Where are we going?" he asks.
Instead of answering, Tony pulls him to a stop. Seated in an uncomfortable-looking chair, a redhead in a Metro uniform grins up at them.
"Hi Tony, how are you?" she greets, rising from her seat.
"Great. How've you been, Hailey?" Tony asks.
"Just fine. So this is him?" She gestures towards Tim.
Grinning broadly, Tony nods. "In the flesh. Hailey Johnson, meet Tim McGee."
"Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you…sorta," she says, extending her right hand to gently touch Tim's in the sling.
"Likewise, I think." He turns to face Tony. "What's going on?"
Hailey raises her eyebrows. "You didn't tell him?"
"Nah, figured he could use a surprise after the week we've had."
Before Tim can speak, Hailey takes his left hand and leads him through the doorway. Dying sunlight creeps through the window, making the room almost too dark to discern the furniture here. He blinks slowly, not recognizing the thin figure tucked into the bed. Someone flicks on the overhead light, and he sees sallow cheeks under a mop of blonde hair.
His heart clenches.
Ksenia.
"Maggee Teem!" she wails, ripping the IV out of her arm as she scrambles out of the bed.
When she reaches him, she hugs Tim hard enough to force the air out of his lungs. He wraps his left hand around her shoulders. Her tears work their way through his shirt. All the while, she excitedly murmurs words that he doesn't understand.
"So this is the Maggie she keeps talking about?" a female voice asks.
He glances around, locating a heavyset woman in one of the room's chairs.
"Tim McGee," he corrects.
"Diane Wilson, social services." She rakes her hand through her unkempt hair. "Ksenia's talked non-stop about you since I got here a few days ago…kept saying that she needed to know you were okay. She just wouldn't believe me or that boss of yours until she saw you in person."
"See?" Tim shakes Ksenia's shoulder until she looks up. "I'm fine and so are you."
Her body quakes as she begins to speak animatedly again. When she stops, Tim glances to Diane.
"She said that she's glad you're alive and how happy she is that you saved her." Pressing his lips together, Tim listens to Ksenia's newest, incomprehensible tirade. "You and your friend saved a lot of her friends last week. If it weren't for you, she'd never see her family again. She says thank you."
"You're welcome," Tim murmurs, pulling her into another hug.
Blinking a tear away, he meet Tony's gaze.
Thank you, he mouths.
"You're welcome too, Probster."
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Author's Note 2.0 : This wraps up the main story. Epilogue will be up tomorrow.