The week and a half that followed were hazy for McGee, as though viewed from a dream.

Not long after they removed the bodies from the church, Tim's knees buckled and he passed out. The pain, exhaustion, and now this grief, were too much and he came very close to dying. Victoria and the agents did their best to give him the attention he needed, but as none of them were doctors and Tim was too far gone for traditional first aid. He came so close that at one point they wondered if they would have to plan two funerals instead of one. And then, when Victoria ultimately collapsed and they were reminded that she'd been through everything McGee had, the question of three funerals rose to their minds. A spark of genius caused Tony to call Simon in Africa. He explained the whole story and the older man listened in horror. Apollo and Simon had been friends for decades, and, filled with anguish over his best friend's demise, he rushed to Italy as fast as he could. With him he brought a small team of doctors from the flightling hospital who, specializing in flightling care, were able to treat the two in the comfort of their homes. This comfort, however, was lost on them, as both were unconscious for over a week, their slumber lit up with the fevered delirium that came with such advanced infections as they had.

They all had a long recovery ahead of them. Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs all were blessed with the opportunity to go to a hospital as soon as the fight was over, claiming they'd been hurt in some freak car accident. Nevertheless, Tim finally awoke to find his three favorite humans looking down at him, relieved that he was going to be alright.

That being said, it took a long time until he (or Victoria) were able to stand and walk for more than a few minutes at a time. But their recovery wasn't the thing that weighed most on his mind...

They burned Thaddeus' body, leaving nothing but ashes behind, which were promptly dumped into the Valero Notte harbor. For a man who had been to such great lengths to live forever, Tim wanted to make sure that his death was as unceremonious as possible. He didn't deserve any more than that.

After the death of D'Amico and most of his followers, his meticulously built empire collapsed. It wasn't that much of a shock. He'd seen the Roman empire fall with his own eyes- why should the domain of Thaddeus D'Amico be ruined with any less drama and violence? Anyway, the few followers that remained were scattered to the winds; it was clear that none stayed behind in Venice- or if they did, they went so deep into hiding that they were no longer a threat. But not everything was so easy. He'd controlled the local government, police force, and media before his death. And as he told Tim and Victoria, he was in dire need of a second in command. Since he had none, these three entities were left without a real hand to be their puppeteer. It was going to take some serious effort to undo this damage. The men and women he'd imprisoned that had survived the whole ordeal were hospitalized. That handful of officers that were against D'Amico from the beginning took it upon themselves to start the effort of putting Venice back together; and even more difficult undertaking due to the fact that the city at large hadn't known they were ever in trouble. Luckily, the friend of Apollo's that had been in Thaddeus' dungeon assured them that he would see that Venice went back to normal. Those few humans who were now exposed to the secrets of flightlings were counseled and while some did try to tell their story, no one believed them. The rest were honestly too afraid to talk about it, worried that someone would come for them if they tried to tell anyone what happened.

They thanked him, glad that it wouldn't be up to them to set things right. All they could focus on was Apollo, whose death ripped a hole in McGee's heart, and which began a long and painful mourning period for all involved. Eventually, Victoria, cried out and worn down from hours spent alone in her room, found him sitting on the roof, twirling something in his hand. It was the pocket watch Apollo had gifted to him when Tim had first been declared a member of the Clark family. The sight brought still more tears to her eyes, but she simply sat next to him and stared out over the ancient buildings. The wounds on their bodies had begun to heal and fade into scars, though neither was sure when they would be able to fly again...the damage they'd taken to their wings was devastating. Not to mention the fact that their grief, stress, and lack of sleeping or eating had stunted the healing process in both of them.

"I'm sorry," Tim said at last, and she looked up at him.

"Why?"

"This is my fault. If I hadn't-"

"Don't you dare," she cut him off, her words accompanied by one of her inhuman growls. Her anger was blistering. "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. Blaming yourself is easy, because it gives you something to do other than grieve. It gives you a reason to feel something other than sadness: self-hatred. He was killed protecting innocent lives, Tim. The only person we can blame is dead."

At his expression, her whole attitude softened. "Oh, Tim, I'm sorry…"

"No, you're right," he agreed. "We just have to do what he would have wanted and keep going."

There was a pause before she spoke.

"The other day when Tony and Ziva went with Simon to pick up the yacht to return it, they found all of the stuff we packed for our getaway. Including your backpack." Tim's eyebrows knitted until she said, "The Darwin book was in there. Its on your bed...I think he would have wanted you to have it."

She put her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. With their advanced senses, they could see and hear everything going on around them, but the world seemed still and silent. The realization of what they'd all overcome was now hitting them, washing over them and making time move slower. It was fitting that the pocket watch had long since stopped.

...

It's exceedingly difficult to plan a funeral for a man who had such a talent for throwing parties and celebrations. Upholding Apollo's legacy was a difficult and emotionally draining task, but his adopted descendants took the mantle with as much grace as they could muster.

He had so many friends all over the world, of all backgrounds, nationalities, and creeds. Some were flightlings, some were not, but the question of whether or not to reach out to every single one of Apollo's acquaintances weighed heavily on Tim and Victoria's minds. Their father figure deserved a grand celebration with everyone he loved in attendance, but he was also a modest, humble man who, despite his grand residence, had enjoyed keeping a low profile. He would have preferred his funeral be a somewhat happy affair, but it seemed inappropriate to make it one given the circumstances of his death.

So, Tim and Victoria did both…and neither. They picked out a lovely casket and held a private ceremony, with only themselves, Team Gibbs, and Simon in attendance. After the burial, Simon helped McGee contact all of Apollo's friends, inviting them to a memorial at the Clark residence later that week. With the help of Ziva, Victoria locked off the most damaged parts of the mansion and prepared for the gathering; luckily the ballroom, kitchen, and library were still presentable after some cleaning. This is where their guests gathered, to eat and drink and reminisce over the flightling who'd touched all their lives. Candles lined every inch of the ballroom and all the electric lights were dimmed. Standing on the staircase, Ziva and Tony looked out over all of the attendees and noticed that they recognized many from the party they'd crashed on their very first visit to the Clark mansion. With the lights dimmed, the dozens of dripping candles and the well-dressed crowd, Ziva couldn't help but think back to the last time they'd stood on those stairs, to that life-changing night.

"What?" DiNozzo asked, noticing her expression.

"When we first came here, I had a very set image in my mind of what the Clarks would look and act like," she admitted. "It looked nothing like this."

Tony grinned. "Thank god for that, right?"

And even after that ceremony, although almost a hundred guests came to pay their respects, just as many gifts, letters, and flowers were sent from friends all over the world who weren't able to be there in person.

Through all of this, Tim (and the others,) had stayed strong. But once all of the memorials were finished, they were left in the wake of their sorrows with only the question, "What now?"

Well, of course the two remaining flightlings of the group were the most affected by their father-figure's death, and their grief was very real and powerful. Still, they couldn't help but celebrate in their family's victory over Thaddeus. It had only come at the cost of Apollo's life and it seemed ungrateful not to be heartbroken by it, but it also seemed ungrateful to spend their time wallowing. They would have to carry their sadness with them, and grieve while still moving forward.

So, what now?

Once he was fully healed, McGee realized that it was time to return to the United States. While he knew that he very much belonged here, in the ancient city with its darkness and its light, he did belong back in his old world of NCIS too. In fact, these halves of him were no longer warring with each other. After he was changed, when the memories first came flooding back to him, his mind had revolted against the stress. How could he have been part of such a modern, gritty, crime-stopping life? He'd come of age in a new technological world, and he'd been one of the best computer analysts under government employ…and yet his genes were as old as time. He was built like a sculpture that belonged on the outside of a church, wings and all. Surely these two parts of him couldn't go hand in hand?
But of course they could. Tim had always been an old soul with a modern mind- why did that have to change? These past few months had only confirmed that within him, and now he knew he didn't have to pick just one side. He'd live a life of hacking and crime-stopping just as he had for years, but now he could return back to the Clark house whenever he chose, and fly through the alleyways and over the city of Valero Notte. He was heartbroken to leave the city of course, especially under the circumstances, but it helped that Victoria was coming with them. Well, that wasn't entirely true- she was leaving the city with them, but wouldn't be accompanying Team Gibbs back to Washington D.C. She and Tim had already hired an architect and a contractor to repair the damaged Clark mansion and restore it to its previous splendor. (They both agreed not to change a thing; that the house should go back to the way it was as Apollo preferred it. And why not? The house itself, under Apollo's management and Victoria's decorating, was a marvel. There was nothing that needed improvement.) Simon had agreed to oversee the small construction plan while they returned to America, and when it was all done, the two remaining Clarks would take a week or two and come back to Valero Notte to finish the restoration.

In the meantime, Victoria was to be tasked with all of the duties that usually fall to kids when their parents have died. There were death certificates, banks accounts and funeral bills to deal with, as well as dozens of little specific requests Apollo had tacked on to the end of his will. The Clark house needed to be repaired and, in some rooms, completely restructured. Upon inspection of his desk, Tim and Victoria found hundreds of papers that now needed to be addressed: insurance forms, titles, personal letters…the whole system was perfectly organized to Apollo's preference, but without him there to explain each item, it would take weeks to go through. But it had to be done, and Victoria asked that she be the one to do it. McGee's offers to help were ceaseless, but she insisted on taking the brunt of the work. Sure, they were both his kids, but Tim had a life to which he could return- it would help him grieve and recover. His surrogate sister didn't have that. She had some friends in Valero Notte, and a solid education, but Apollo had found her all alone; she'd been lost, confused, and afraid of herself. She'd been in school, and she had a college degree, but before becoming a part of the Clark legacy, she had nothing but the memories of a broken life, a murdered roommate and the horror of what she had become. But Apollo had given her a home and a loving family. He'd shared with her everything he had for years. And then Tim came along and they were even more of a family.

…Now things were changing. Apollo was gone. McGee was heading back to America, and tried to persuade her to come and live with him in his new apartment, or even to get an apartment of her own. She'd turned him down with a series of very good excuses.

"Someone has to get all of Apollo's affairs in order. Carry out his will, have the house remodeled…"

"Where are you going to stay while it's rebuilt?" Tim asked, that natural brotherly tone creeping into his voice.

Victoria couldn't stop the faint look of grief that flashed across her face before she plastered on a tight smile. "There's always the house on Long Island. I'll stay there while I go through everything."

"Are you sure you don't want help? I wouldn't mind…"

"Tim, you have your own things to figure out right now," she'd said, putting her hands up in a gesture meant to reassure him that she was satisfied with her decision. "I really don't mind it. In fact, I think it will help a lot."

He knew she meant that the loads of busywork would help with her sadness, and when her face started to crumble, he pulled her in for a hug before she could throw the walls back up. Her resilience gone, Victoria burst into quiet tears, nestling her head in his shoulder as she tried to quell the sobs. The heartache was contagious, and McGee couldn't stop his own eyes from watering and spilling over. They stayed like that for a while, soaking in the silence and letting out their sorrows, before Victoria sniffed and pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You'll call if you need anything though?"

She couldn't help but let out a short laugh at his insistence. "Fine. Yes. I'll call if I need anything. If you promise to do the same."

He nodded but didn't look too convinced. She gave him a gentle nudge. "Hey, you're just going to be in D.C., and I'll be in New York. I'm a short flight away….or drive, if you're feeling lazy."

McGee chuckled, finally relenting. "When you're finished with everything you need to do, promise me you'll consider moving closer by?"

"Please," she deadpanned. "You won't be able to get rid of me."

…

Ziva, in an effort to be helpful, had assisted Victoria and Tim in packing and closing up the house. They all helped, of course, but the ex-Mossad agent, and in her own way, sought to ease the stress of Tim and his surrogate sister, whom Ziva now considered a good friend and ally. The five of them were going to take a flight to New York together, then the four agents would take a connecting flight the rest of the way home.

The night before, everyone was in their own rooms, packing up what few personal belongings they had. Tony was finished in a few minutes, seeing as almost everything he'd "owned" during his extended trip to Valero Notte amounted to a suitcase full of clothes and some heavy-duty hunting weapons that he would be leaving behind. They weren't worth the stress that they would bring if he tried to take them through customs. Besides, he had countless more at home.

Since he finished so quickly, he stuck his head into Victoria's room.

"Need any help?"

"Hmm?" she looked up from where she was bent over her suitcase. "Oh, I think I've got it. I'm not taking much. I'll be back soon enough, anyway…you could wrap this, if you need something to do." She held up her statuette of the Winged Victory, the one that Apollo had given her so long ago.

"Sure," he took it from her, and, underestimating the statuette's weight, almost dropped it.

"Sorry," Victoria said, amusement coloring her tone. "I forget how heavy it actually is."

They shared a comfortable quiet before he said, "Tim told me you grew up in Long Island."

"Sort of," he admitted. "But my parents sent me off to boarding school during the year."

"Ah."

Their silence wasn't as comfortable this time, and DiNozzo cleared his throat.

"You're really gonna live out there on your own?"

"It's only for a couple of months. Besides," a playful glint came to her eyes, one he'd never seen before. "I can take care of myself."

"No, I know," he said quickly. "That's not what I…Tim's like that too. He likes being alone when he's been through hell."

She pursed her lips in agreement. "I know. He's been doing it since the day I met him. Literally."

"…Even he's not doing that this time, though," he pointed out, his expression suggesting that he took issue with the fact that she was. Hearing the protest behind his words, Victoria sighed and explained herself.

"Tim's got a strong support system. He has me, and he has you all." She looked up at him. "You present yourselves as a team, but it was obvious from the start that you're a family. He has that to fall back on."

Tony's frown deepened. "You have that too, you know."

Her eyes softened and she gave the tiniest of nods. "You're right. I am still a Clark. And I have Tim. Things will go back to normal once I get all of this done…" she trailed off.

"That's not what I meant," DiNozzo said. The look on his face suggested that he was disappointed, though she had no earthly idea why that might be the case. It didn't even cross Victoria's mind that he was disappointed in her for thinking this way. "Tim has us, but you do too. You don't think that after all of the things you did for us, and especially for McGee, that we'd just let you walk away?"

This gave her serious pause. Victoria stopped what she was doing and turned to face him; it was clear from the touched, surprised, and even hopeful expression on her face that it hadn't occurred to her. DiNozzo's natural defense mechanism came bursting forth and he cut the mood with a grin and, "I mean, you might not be interested, but NCIS is always hiring. Then you'll really be stuck with us."

The look she gave him was gentle, but he could tell that she saw through his sarcasm, and Tony became serious once again. Still, she couldn't help but laugh. It was soft, but so much more genuine than any of the fake smiles she'd worn since Apollo's death.

"It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world," she said, zipping up her suitcase. Before he could come back with another quip, she went up to him. The proximity itself was surprising, but DiNozzo didn't have time to think about it because she pressed her lips to his cheek. The kiss was short and delicate, but christ…

Victoria stepped away, though he didn't miss the shyness in her eyes. She left him standing there in her room, alone, hoping "a couple months" would go by as quickly as possible.

…

The goodbyes between Victoria and everyone else were disheartening, but mercifully brief. Tim and his human companions had to catch their flight, which was already preparing to board when they stepped off their first plane. But they'd already said their real goodbyes anyway, and had to settle for a quick hug and wave from the young woman before they disappeared down the terminal.

Once their plane took off towards Washington, Tim's mind went from his surrogate sister to the life that now awaited him. Vance had been informed of all that had happened in Valero Notte and Venice, and he promised McGee that if the younger man could pass all the tests, he would be immediately reinstated to his old position at NCIS. Team Gibbs would come up with some story about how Tim had been abducted and thought dead, and how the MCRT had been let on to some intelligence of his murderers' whereabouts, and after a near-impossible mission, they had found him alive and extracted him from their prison. This would be the official report, and it was great because technically it was true, but it was also fairly believable. The same thing had happened to Ziva in Somalia.

The ex-Mossad agent had kept a close watch on McGee, worried for her friend. She'd been tortured and had tortured others in her past and she knew that the effects could sneak up on you and be absolutely destructive. So far, little more than nightmares had manifested themselves. Sure, they were horrific nightmares, but that was to be expected. Ziva wished that she could observe Victoria for such signs as well, but resigned herself to be satisfied with keeping guard over Tim.

But other troubling thoughts were on McGee's mind during their flight, and DiNozzo noticed.

"You know, Abby's going to lose her mind when she finds out you're alive," Tony reminded him. "It's a good thing you're so much stronger or she'd kick your ass….What's with you?"

He considered lying, but the look on his face made the younger man sigh and go for the truth. "I was thinking about my family…I mean, Sarah and my parents. And Penny."

Tony nodded. "Are you gonna tell them?"

"Actually…I was wondering if I should contact them at all."

"You're not going to tell them you're alive?" his friend's surprise was more than evident.

"Why should I?" he asked, though it wasn't in anger; he was sincerely trying to find a good reason. "First of all, what if I go to hug Sarah and end up changing her? She couldn't handle that."

It was true, Tony had to admit. It had been years since he'd last seen Sarah McGee, but given Tim's tone it was clear that she had not matured much since then. And being a flightling was not for the faint of heart.

"And she already thinks I'm dead," McGee continued. "I mean, I'm sure she was upset by it, but it's been months. She's probably moved on. Going back wouldn't help her any, even if she didn't change. And same with my mom. I know it probably almost killed her when she thought I died, but it wasn't like we were really a big part of each others' lives. I'd only spoken to her a handful of times since I started working at NCIS. She's probably moved on, and me coming back would just dredge up old stuff."

DiNozzo wasn't sure about this reasoning, but he did agree with the next part: "And like I've said before. I don't look the same. My eyes alone would give away that something was up. And then the rest of my life would be spent lying to them…why I won't age like a normal person, why my eyes look different, everything. Even worse, my parents could know about flightlings, and I don't need to learn any horror stories about my ancestors."

They were quiet for a minute, but then Tim spoke again. "I mean, be honest. Did my father even show up to my funeral?"

Tony paused, opened his mouth, then shut it again. McGee could see the answer on his face, however, and his scoff did nothing to hide the hurt he felt. "Great. He'd probably be angry to hear that I was alive. I don't need to tell him anything."

"What about Penny?" DiNozzo reminded him, and Tim's eyes clouded.

"She's the only one I really considered telling, but I couldn't just tell one of them and not the others. I don't know."

Seeing his friend's distress, Tony put a hand on his shoulder for a moment. "It's not like you have to decide right away…but you do have to find a new place to live."

Effectively distracted, McGee sighed in feigned annoyance. "That's the worst thing to happen to me so far," he joked.

"Look at it as an opportunity. You have the money that Apollo left you. You can afford a decent-sized apartment, at least."

"My old apartment wasn't that bad!"

"Is your memory of your old life still messed up, McGee? Even Ziva has a nicer apartment, and it's the one she picked when she was working for Mossad and only planned to stay a couple months."

Tim laughed. "I guess you're right." And really, he couldn't argue. He couldn't have cared less about the money, but the cash he'd been given when living with Apollo was enough to set him up for at least a few months until he went back to work at NCIS. Either way, he'd been able to afford a bigger apartment since…oh, three years after he became an agent, he'd just never bothered. But now that he needed to look for a new living situation, something more grown up and comfortable couldn't hurt. He was a different person now, and he needed something that suited him. It wasn't that he needed all of that luxury; after all, despite the changes he'd undergone, he was in a way still the same person he'd been when he bought that little apartment. Ostentatious was not the word that best described him at all. (And in the meantime, Gibbs had offered his spare room, which Tim was grateful to accept.)

The flight from New York only took about an hour, and McGee looked outside the window as it finally hit him that he was back in the United States. He was home in the country he'd spent years working to protect, and while it didn't feel wrong, it felt very surreal. Tim knew it was because he'd left part of his heart in Valero Notte, and because he'd been such a different person when he left. God, so much had changed.

But as they made their landing approach, McGee couldn't help but smile, even as one hand gripped the pocket watch Apollo had gifted him months before.

Flying over the city was going to be even more beautiful when his own wings were doing the work.

..

A/N: don't forget to read the epilogue!