Chapter 3
Tony pushed the button.
"Looks like it's not working, Agent DiNozzo," Henry said.
"Great. I hate taking the stairs."
"It's only one floor. I think you can handle it."
Tony laughed.
"I know. I guess I'll put in a call to maintenance...unless Gibbs is in there having a conference."
"Better wait and check it out, first. You can ask Agent McGee. He got here about half an hour ago. It was working, then."
"Really? I'm here early. Why was he here so soon?"
"It's about the time he's been here every day."
"Huh. Interesting."
"You can ask him about it."
"I will."
Tony ran up the stairs to the bullpen.
"Hey, McGee!"
He stopped. Tim wasn't there. Henry wouldn't have got that wrong, but Tim's bag wasn't there, either.
He pulled out his phone and called.
The phone rang and rang with no answer. He called again.
Then, there was a pickup...but no voice.
"Hey, McGee?"
Nothing.
"Tim?"
"Tony..."
"Hey, Tim. What's wrong?"
"I'm...stuck...in the elevator. It's not moving. I can't get it to start moving. It's not moving, Tony!"
Tim sounded absolutely freaked out...which was really weird considering he was just in the elevator.
"Okay. I'll call maintenance. Don't worry. It'll just take a minute."
"No. Don't hang up, Tony."
"Why not?"
"Please...don't leave me alone in here. Please."
"Tim, what's going on? You're just in the elevator. You've been in there lots of times."
"Don't leave me alone in here."
Tim sounded terrified.
"Okay, okay. I'll stay on the phone and...uh..."
Ellie came up the stairs.
"Is Gibbs in the elevator?" she asked.
"Ah, Probie!" Tony said. "Ellie will call maintenance and tell them that the elevator isn't working and that you're in there."
"Who's in the elevator?" Ellie asked.
"Tim is and he's freaked out about it," Tony said in a low voice. "Get them on it."
"Why didn't he just call?"
"Because. Just do it, Probie!"
"Okay, okay."
Ellie called maintenance.
"They're on their way, Tim."
"Don't hang up, Tony. Don't leave me in here alone."
"I said I wouldn't, and I won't. What's the problem?"
"I don't want to be alone."
Tim's voice was so shaky, that Tony felt like he should be facing down death, not stuck in an elevator in NCIS headquarters.
"Tim, you're not alone. You're in the elevator. You're probably about ten feet away from us."
"I don't want to be alone," Tim said, sounding like he was almost in tears. "Don't stop talking to me, okay?"
That reminded him of something... What was it?
Wait, that was what Tim had asked him to do when he was stuck in the cave. More than a month ago.
"Tim, you're not in the cave. You're just in the elevator."
"I know. Don't leave me here alone. It's...too quiet. I don't want to be alone in here."
Then, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Tim was standing there, in the middle of the elevator, his face was white and he had a white-knuckle grip on one of his crutches. The other was on the floor, and Tim's other hand was tightly jamming his phone against his ear. Tony and Ellie exchanged looks and then, Tony walked forward and grabbed Tim's arm. Tim looked at him and started to sob.
Tony had no idea what was going on, but he just grabbed Tim and pulled him out of the elevator.
"Ellie, grab his other crutch."
Ellie nodded and grabbed it as fast as she could while Tony helped Tim to his desk. He pushed Tim down onto his chair.
"Go get Ducky," he said.
Ellie just nodded mutely and hurried down to Autopsy. Yes, they could just call him up, but Tony was hoping that Tim would mostly snap out of it in the time it took Ellie to get down there and back.
"Tim, talk to me. What's going on with you?"
Tim didn't answer. He was still crying. It was so weird to see Tim cry. He didn't cry. Not ever that Tony could remember. It took a few seconds, but Tim did calm down.
"Tim. Say something."
"I...dropped one of my crutches," he said softly, not looking at Tony.
"Ellie got it."
"Okay."
"Say something else," Tony said.
"I feel a little lightheaded."
"With the way you look, I'm not surprised. You want to explain what happened in there?"
"No."
Tony laughed a little.
"Okay. Do it anyway. You've been in the elevator when it's been stopped lots of times. If you weren't thinking you were back in the cave, what happened?"
"I...I didn't..."
Then, the elevator dinged, revealing Ducky and Ellie.
"What happened?" Ducky asked.
"McGee was just about to tell me."
"The elevator broke down," Tim said, still in the same soft voice. His hands were sitting in his lap, and he was almost motionless.
"That's unfortunate, but Timothy, what happened to you?"
"I felt a little dizzy," Tim said. "Lost my balance."
Tony was surprised at the outright lie Tim had just told.
"It's more than that, Timothy. I can see it just by looking at the pallor of your skin."
Tim still hadn't looked up...but he finally lifted his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I just...I freaked a bit. It was like being...in the cave again, and I freaked out. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."
Ducky smiled.
"Nothing to be sorry about, lad. That kind of reaction is to be expected to some degree after the kind of experience you had. Are you feeling better?"
Tim nodded. "Yeah. I just...freaked out."
"Good. I can see more color in your cheeks already. Don't worry about it. If you have trouble, you can always come and speak to me. I've told you that before."
Tim smiled a little and nodded.
Tony wasn't sure why, but he was sure that Tim was lying to Ducky about what had happened...especially when he'd already admitted that he knew he wasn't in the cave before. Still, he decided to let Tim have a respite from all the attention. He was probably embarrassed.
Ducky was headed back down to Autopsy, and Tony decided to run his thoughts by Ducky before implementing the idea that was slowly taking shape in his head.
"Hey, Ducky, wait for me!" he said.
"Yes, Anthony?"
Tony kept Ducky moving and got him onto the elevator. Once the doors were closed, he sent it down to Autopsy.
"What's wrong?" Ducky asked.
"I think Tim was lying."
"Yes, as do I."
"You do?"
Ducky smiled. "Yes. His fear was out of proportion to the situation, but I don't believe it was that he forgot where he was."
"Then, why did you accept it?"
"Because Timothy isn't wanting to talk about it. Whatever his debriefing covered, it clearly wasn't enough. I've been hoping that he would talk about whatever has been bothering him since his return to work, but all my attempts have come to nothing."
"That long?" Tony asked.
"Yes. I believe that something is not right, but...well, he has the right to keep it to himself if he wishes. I've spoken to Jethro about it as well, and he agrees...so long as Timothy doesn't appear to be endangering himself or falling down on his work."
"Do you have any idea what it is?" Tony asked.
The elevator doors opened and they walked toward Autopsy.
"Only that it certainly must be related to his time spent trapped in that cave. But the exact cause? No, I don't know for sure."
"He was kind of acting like he did in the cave when he was stuck in the elevator, but...but he said he knew he wasn't in the cave. ...so I wanted to ask your opinion."
Ducky smiled.
"Yes?"
"Do you think Tim might tell me what's going on if I asked him in private?"
"He may. I can't tell you positively. It could simply be that he's having some lingering anxiety as a result of his injury and he needs time to adjust. It is common after trauma. Usually, it resolves itself. Given that you're the one who was his connection to the outside world when he was trapped before, you may have more success than I."
"Okay. I'll try."
"Good luck."
Tony laughed. "Thanks, Ducky."
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
"Hey, McGee, you want a ride home?" Tony asked.
Tim looked around his monitor at Tony. He was surprised. Tony didn't live anywhere near him. ...but not having to pay for a taxi was nice.
"Oh...sure. Thanks."
He got up and grabbed his bag.
"I got that, Tim. You just get yourself," Tony said.
Tim hesitated and then handed Tony his bag.
"Okay."
He got his crutches and started hobbling behind Tony. He wasn't really excited about going home. He usually spent a few hours telling himself that the sound from the TV was enough. Then, he could sometimes sleep with the light off, but most of the time, he spent the entire night sleeping with the lights and TV on.
Tony drove him home and helped him up to his apartment.
"Thanks, Tony," Tim said again.
"No problem."
"And I'm sorry I was so stupid this morning."
"You want to talk about it?" Tony asked.
Tim looked at him in surprise.
"We already did."
"Yeah, and you lied."
Tim looked down and away. Then, he hobbled into his living room.
"Thanks for the ride, Tony."
"No problem, Tim," Tony said. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah."
The door closed. The silence descended, that silence that heralded complete isolation. Tim felt himself tense up and he headed for the bedroom to turn on his TV. After what happened this morning...
He was halfway there when there was a knock at the door. He stopped. Possible short-term company that would be real people, i.e. he wouldn't be alone for a few minutes, or the TV that wasn't usually enough but would at least give him consistent sound?
Another knock.
Human contact trumped mere sound.
He crutched to the door and looked through the hole. Then, he furrowed his brow and opened the door.
"Ha!" Tony said.
"Ha...what?" Tim asked, trying to hide his relief at having company.
"The expression on your face, Tim. It's been less than a minute and you're already freaked out. Why?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"So...if I were to leave again, you wouldn't have any problem with it?"
Tim swallowed.
"I see that, Tim!" Tony said instantly. "I can see that something is wrong! What is it?"
Tim sighed and crutched to a chair so that he could sit down.
"It's nothing," he said. "Or at least it should be nothing."
"What do you mean?" Tony asked. He closed the door and walked over.
"I didn't want... It'll go away. Eventually, it will go away," Tim said, trying to convince himself.
"What will?" Tony asked.
Tim looked at his leg.
"Maybe when I can start walking again, when I'm not stuck with these crutches all the time."
"What, Tim?"
"I...I don't...want to be alone," Tim said finally, staring at the floor instead of at Tony. This was so embarrassing. "When I was in the cave, I...I didn't... It was so quiet, and I was... And the flashlight rolled away. And then it went out. It was dark. Silent. No one was there. I didn't know if you'd been caught, too. I felt like I was going to die there...because I was alone. And it was always so quiet. And when I heard something, people were there. It meant that I could...maybe get out. It felt like I'd been there forever. My leg hurt. I couldn't move...unless I ended up having to tear my leg off to get away. Alone, I could die. With people there, I was going to be okay. And...and then...when it's so quiet..." He stopped because his throat had tightened up again and he had no intention of crying twice in one day.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"It'll go away," Tim whispered. "Until it does, I can...deal with it."
"How?"
"I keep the TV on. So it's not so quiet in here. Sometimes, I leave the lights on. Once I'm better, it won't be a problem. It's just...for now."
"And when will you be better, Tim?" Tony asked. "It could take a year for everything to be back to normal. Are you really going to wait that long? Are you going to freak out every time you're unexpectedly alone?"
"I hope not," Tim said, trying to smile...at the floor.
"I'm not the kind of guy who says you should talk to people every time you have trouble, but this seems like something you could get help with."
"But then...I'd have to say that there's a problem."
"Well, since there is, that's exactly what you should do."
Tim forced himself to look up.
"I kept telling myself I wasn't scared."
"Of being trapped in a cave? Anyone would have been scared."
"All I could think about was... Tom Sawyer."
"What? I'm not following that at all."
"Injun Joe got trapped in the cave when they sealed it up. He starved to death."
"That's just a kid's story."
"I always hated that scene. Gave me nightmares as a kid. He was the bad guy, but still...starving to death, alone in the dark. No way out. What a terrible way to die."
The chair scooted along the floor and Tony sat next to Tim.
"Well, you didn't die."
"Yeah, I know. My ankle's broken, though. My foot got pretty crushed and I'm going to be trying to get better from this for ages...and all because some stupid prospector booby-trapped his stupid claim a hundred years ago." Tim looked at his leg again. "It's so stupid. And then, on top of that, I can't get a stupid scene from a stupid book out of my stupid head."
Tony laughed. "That's a lot of stupid coming from a really smart person."
Tim sighed. "I feel normal as long as someone is around, but...when I'm alone... All I can think about is what happened the last time I was alone."
His ankle didn't like being in this position for a long time, and it started to throb. He forced himself to his feet (or rather his foot), grabbed his crutches and started for the bedroom.
"Tony, you don't have to do anything. This will go away when..."
"Yeah, when, McGee?" Tony asked, following him back. "It's been over a month and you had a meltdown because the elevator stopped for a few minutes."
"Yeah, I know." Tim sat on his bed and let his crutches fall onto the floor. "I just want it to be normal, and I can't because I keep getting scared when it's too quiet...when I'm alone."
"You know, Tim...that's okay."
Tim raised an eyebrow as he propped his ankle up on the bed. "Yeah...as long as it's not you. Or are you going to try to pretend that you would be any more open about it than I've been if it had been you."
Tony smiled and helped Tim get arranged on his bed. "No, I wouldn't, but if someone came to me and told me I should think about talking about it...I might listen."
"Not if it was me."
"Actually, if you actually said something like that to me, I'd probably listen...because you don't go that route very often."
Tim smiled. "You're really getting desperate, aren't you."
Tony suddenly became serious. "No, I'm not, but I think you are, Tim."
Tim sighed again.
"Are you going to try to tell me that what I'm feeling is normal?"
"No."
Tim was surprised into laughing.
"Thanks."
"Just trying to help."
"I know." Tim looked at his leg again. "Somehow, I think my leg is going to heal more easily than my head."
"I don't know. I think if you stop pretending that it's all okay, you'd probably be better off."
"And how do I do that?"
"Well...for tonight, you could stay at my place."
"I'd rather sleep on a bed."
"You can sleep on a bed."
"I'm not taking your bed."
"You will if you let me help you out for a night. Are you going to pretend that you wouldn't prefer it?"
Tim couldn't and he knew Tony knew that, too.
"No, I can't."
"So?"
"I'm already lying down. It'd be easier to stay where I am. I hate using these crutches. It's so hard."
"You'll be more relaxed at my place, though, right?"
"If you're not willing to sleep on the floor, here..."
"Not a chance."
Tim sighed yet again. He didn't want to stay here alone. He didn't want to go to Tony's place because that would require moving and it was so hard to get around when he wasn't allowed to put any weight on his injured leg.
"I'll pack you some clothes," Tony said.
Tim raised an eyebrow, but then, he couldn't protest.
"Okay."
Tim watched as Tony grabbed some clothes and stuffed them in a bag. Then, Tony put out his hand. Tim looked at it and then, he nodded, knowing that he was agreeing to more than just staying the night at Tony's apartment. This was agreeing that he would do something about this problem that he had hoped would just go away.
Tony helped him up, grabbed his crutches and Tim hobbled back out of his apartment and back to Tony's car.
Tony helped him into his apartment. Tim tried to protest about taking Tony's bed one last time and then gave in.
...and he slept well for the first time in weeks.