Chapter 6

"Baba, story!" Jonathan said, escaping from Zahara's grip and running to his dad.

Tim knelt down and grabbed Jonathan.

"Jonathan, it's bedtime."

"Story, Baba!" Then, Jonathan proved that, even at not quite three years old, he was devious. "Sama want story, too!"

And since Salma would be heading to bed shortly after Jonathan, she was more than willing to go along with it.

"I get to pick it!" she said.

"You pick," Jonathan agreed, as if he knew that his sister's cooperation was contingent upon his willingness to let her choose the story.

Tim smiled at Jonathan and then at Zahara. He wasn't really in the mood for reading a story tonight, but he also knew that he usually enjoyed doing it even when he wasn't.

"Looks like I'm outnumbered," Tim said. "What do you want to read?"

"Dr. Seuss!" Salma said happily.

Dr. Seuss meant one book: Oh the Thinks You Can Think.

Well, that wasn't as bad as some of the books.

"Okay. Go and get it, Salma. But only this one book. No others tonight. Got it? Jonathan?"

Jonathan grinned and ran over to the couch. He sat down happily, looking very pleased with himself. Tim smiled and shook his head. He walked over to the couch and sat down beside his son. Jonathan snuggled up close to him and then Salma ran over with the well-worn book in her hands. She sat down on the other side of him and Tim put his arms around both his kids and then opened the book.

"'You can think up some birds

That's what you can do.

You can think about...'"

"YELLOW!" Jonathan shouted.

"'Or think about...'"

"Blue!" Salma said.

"'You can think about red

You can think about pink.

You can think up a horse.

Oh the thinks you can think!'"

Tim had always loved this book. He remembered it from when he was a child. In fact, this was his childhood copy. On one of their visits after Jonathan had been born, his parents had brought it and said it should be read to the next generation.

"'You can think about gloves.

You can think about Snuvs.

You can think a long time

About Snuvs and their gloves.'"

This book always took a long time because they had to stop on every page and point out the details of it, but Tim was used to that and he was glad that his children seemed to love the book as much as he had. As he kept reading, he felt himself losing some of the tension he always carried with him.

"'And what would you do if you met a Jibboo?'" Tim read in a mysterious voice.

Jonathan cuddled closer. The drawing on this page was strange and a little creepy for a child, but it was only that one page and when Tim turned it, Jonathan was fine again.

"'And why is it that so many things go to the right?'"

This page took a long time because the page was crammed with creatures and people all facing right.

But finally, they got to the last page and Salma and Jonathan recited it along with him and he turned the book upside to read the last words.

"'Think left and think right and think low and think high.

Oh the thinks you can think up if only you try.'"

"Yea!" Salma said, happily clapping her hands. "Shokran, Baba!"

"'Afwan," he said.

"Shokran!" Jonathan said, as well.

"Now, bedtime."

Cue the whining. Tim smiled and pulled out an Arabic phrase he had made sure he could use whenever needed.

"Qat al-nawm," he said, firmly.

"You heard your baba," Zahara said. "Come, Jonathan. Salma, go and brush your teeth."

Eventually, they both did as they were told. They kissed him goodnight (although Tim would be surprised if they didn't try to get another one after they were in bed) and then went upstairs. Tim stayed on the couch and looked at the book. Suddenly, it struck him that, if anything was, this was advice for him. The idea that he could think about pretty much anything. He still felt hemmed in by too many things in his life, but he wanted to have this kind of reckless abandon again, especially with computer stuff. He hadn't let himself just have fun with a computer in years. He was too afraid of what it might lead to. That meant that he had cut out a significant portion of his former hobbies. When he was doing work for the NSA, he did get to let loose a little, but even there, he was much more reserved, focused more on the work itself and not on how much he could do.

Then, he heard paws and a jingling collar as Marra came into the living room. She walked over to him... with her leash in her mouth.

"You want a walk tonight, I take it?"

Marra went down on her front legs, sticking her tail in the air and wagging it eagerly. Tim smiled.

"Okay, but you'll have to wait a bit. Stay here."

The last thing Tim wanted was for Marra to go into the kids' bedrooms and rile them up at this delicate moment of getting them into bed.

Marra sat up on her haunches and looked to be obedient. Good. Tim went upstairs so that he could help tuck Salma and Jonathan into bed and forestall any complaints that he wasn't there which would give them an excuse to stay awake longer.

After they were both in bed, Jonathan drooped almost instantly and Salma was calm enough to stay in her bed without too much problem. Then, Tim and Zahara went downstairs to where Marra was still waiting... impatiently.

"I'm going to walk Marra. Then, do you want to watch a movie tonight?"

"Yes. I will look through them while you are gone."

"Okay."

Tim kissed her and then finally clipped on Marra's leash and left the house. Marra knew that she could be a bit more excited as they walked through the neighborhood. Tim let the leash go long and she ran around sniffing everything.

"Evening, Tim."

Tim smiled at one of his neighbors. Orville just happened to be a retired CIA agent who lived three houses down from Tim. He was a widower and in his eighties. Whether or not he knew anything about Tim's situation wasn't clear, but he hadn't hidden his former occupation. Actually, he seemed to enjoy the notoriety it gave him.

"Hi, Orville."

"Looks like Marra is enjoying herself."

"She pretty much always does."

"You know... you don't seem like a Doberman person. Now, Jethro seemed more your speed."

"Old and slow? Isn't that more your speed, Orville?"

"Ha."

Tim smiled and looked at Marra.

"Besides, she's not purebred and her ears are floppy."

"Doesn't matter. She's still a Doberman."

Marra chose that moment to run up to Tim and wind the leash around his legs. Tim laughed but quickly put a stop to that.

"Marra, stop."

She did, although she clearly didn't want to. Tim stepped out of the leash and pulled it in shorter so that she couldn't go so far. Then, he petted her.

"That's partly why we got her. Dobermans are relatively easy to train. Once I established myself as the leader of her pack, she really has listened to me most of the time. And Jethro was really energetic when he was younger. I wanted that again."

"Well, you've definitely got it." Orville reached over and petted Marra as well. She started panting contentedly.

"I won't keep you any longer. It's past my bedtime anyway."

Tim chuckled.

"So you go to bed the same time as my kids."

"They'll figure out that it's a good thing eventually."

"When they're your age," Tim said.

"About then. Good night, Tim."

"Night, Orville."

Tim continued on his way and waved at a few of his other neighbors. Noting his CIA guards as always. He and Marra made a loop of the neighborhood and then headed back home. When he got inside, he unclipped the leash and gave it to Marra, knowing that she might not get it back exactly where it belonged but that she'd get it to the right vicinity.

Then, he sat down with Zahara on the couch.

"What are we watching tonight?" he asked.

"I think you need something simple and easy," Zahara said. "We will watch The Princess Bride."

"I like that one," Tim said, smiling.

"I know."

She started it going and then leaned on him. Marra came in and settled down on the floor at their feet.

All in all, Tim knew that this was the best kind of time he had. Time with his family where nothing important was going on.

If only he could feel this way more often.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Gibbs walked back to Levi's front door. The car that was there before was now gone, indicating that the visit from his daughter was over. He wasn't sure exactly what to expect. He just wanted to get Levi's thoughts because he had cared enough to share out the information he had gathered, and he had always been most concerned for Tim's mental health. So what had induced him to think it important enough that Tim's friends needed to know about his extra training?

He knocked and this time Levi answered himself.

"Good evening, Agent Gibbs. Please, come into the study," he said, almost formally.

Gibbs stepped inside and followed Levi into his private study.

"Have a seat," Levi said and sat down himself.

Gibbs sat down and looked at Levi carefully. There was no sign of any overt weakness, although he still had a worn look that was probably simply normal for him now. Levi raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, Agent Gibbs? It was your idea to come here to talk to me. I know you're not much of a talker, but you said you had questions."

"How did you find out about Tim getting extra training with the CIA?"

Levi smiled in his usual infuriating way.

"Now, Agent Gibbs, I wouldn't ask you to share your confidential sources. Even though I don't work for the CIA or for anyone, I still have people who are willing to tell me things simply because they know that I won't tell anyone who has talked. That worked very well for me during my working life and I have chosen to continue that."

Gibbs didn't bother trying to pry. If Levi didn't want to say, he wouldn't say. So he moved on.

"Why did that person tell you?"

"That person actually wanted more information about Tim and thought I already knew about the training. So it wasn't an intentional sharing initially, but I didn't hesitate to capitalize on it."

"Why did you tell Ducky about it?"

"Because I felt that it was better that someone in Tim's life knew what he was doing," Levi said.

"Why?" Gibbs asked. "He claims that it's just extra training."

"It's not," Levi said, bluntly. "Tim hasn't got back to his previous level of mental health and this is simply an illustration of it. He's still afraid. He's still thinking that being taken again is inevitable. That is the reason for the training. It's to prepare him for the next time. It's not just to be better. It's to give him the ability to fight off anyone who might take him. It's to allow him to kill without remorse. His previous outlook on life, the idea that his life made up for his struggles, no longer applies. That is unacceptable to me. Tim should never be a person who is willing to kill without remorse. That will destroy him. I knew it when all this started and it's still the same now. Tim cannot live as a ruthless man because he'll never see himself truly that way. If he kills someone who comes after him, he'll always carry guilt for it and it will destroy him. I won't let that happen."

Gibbs was more than surprised at the speech Levi had just made. He knew that Levi felt he owed Tim a debt, but this went beyond that. This was Levi putting himself in the position of being Tim's protector.

"Why are you doing this? I know you say you owe Tim a debt, but why are you so focused on this?"

Levi looked at him for a long time in silence. Gibbs hadn't ever known anyone who could make him feel uncomfortable just by staring at him, but Levi managed it. It was like he was looking into Gibbs' soul, analyzing every aspect of who Gibbs was and making sure that what he was about to say would be accepted and understood. It was obvious that what was coming here was very important. Then, Levi leaned over and opened a drawer on the desk. He pulled out a photograph and slid it across the desk.

Gibbs picked it up. It was a picture of a young man who was apparently graduating from college. He looked quite normal. Gibbs didn't know what he'd expected from Levi but it wasn't this. He looked up with a question in his eyes.

"This is my son, Quinn. He was also a part of the team who was initially tasked with torturing Tim. I know that makes him not worth anything in your eyes, but he was my son. He mattered to me even when I didn't let him know it. He was murdered the year after by the people who first forced Tim to build the program that has made him such a desired commodity." Levi took the picture back and shook his head as he stared at it. "I got my son killed although I didn't know that was what I was doing. I always felt guilty that I didn't protect him from that. When I was being tortured to death, I hallucinated my son and I knew I had failed him. My desire to separate myself from my family had done nothing to protect them as I thought it would. Now, when it's far too late to fix it, I understand how wrong I was. Would that I could go back and change that decision, but I can't."

The silence fell again, but Gibbs was sure that there was more coming so he said nothing. He just waited to see what this beginning was going to lead to.

"I told you before that I owe Tim everything, and that's the truth. I do, but you're right. It's more than that." Levi looked up. "I failed my son, Agent Gibbs. There's nothing I can do to help him now. He's dead, another member of my family lost to violence. Tim isn't lost yet, and I'm responsible for much of his suffering. If I can't do anything for my son, I can still do something for Tim. I can keep him from becoming me. Tim's training can do him a lot of good. It's always useful to be in better physical condition, to be prepared for danger, but Tim's decision to pursue training is about more than that and I don't want to see it become something he can't survive psychologically."

Gibbs said nothing in response for a moment. He had no idea what to say in response. Of all the things Levi could have told him, this wasn't even close to being on the list. It was like Levi was saying Tim was a surrogate son or something and that wasn't even on the radar as a possibility. It was one thing to admit that Levi was changing. It was another to ascribe some kind of parental feeling to him. And yet, at the same time, just an hour or so earlier, he had said that he had to be there for his daughter.

Perhaps, Gibbs just had to admit that he didn't really understand Levi and that he'd made no effort to do so. So these reactions might be completely logical to those who knew Levi, where they seemed out of the blue to strangers.

But this did require a response, no matter how surprising it was.

Suddenly, Levi smiled in his old way.

"I know my confession is somewhat shocking, Agent Gibbs, but it's the truth."

"You don't need to say that. I know," Gibbs said, grudgingly.

"Good."

"So is this some kind of attempt at redemption?"

"Yes," Levi said, simply. "Is it enough? Probably not, but I still have to try, even if it will never be enough."

"Why?"

"Because if one owes a debt, it's dishonest not to do whatever is possible to pay back that debt, even if it's impossible to succeed."

Always back to honesty. Gibbs really wished that he understood that underlying part of Levi's outlook on life. He knew it was genuine and that it really mattered, but he didn't understand it.

"So what more would you do?"

"Whatever was asked of me. Even if it were to shorten my life more than it already has been. My family is the most important thing in my life... but this is as important to me and worth dying for if necessary... even though I hope it's not."

Another silence.

"Do you have any other questions for me, Agent Gibbs? I can't tell you anything more about what Tim has been doing than I have."

Gibbs suddenly had questions galore he'd like to ask, but they weren't on the topic and so he kept them to himself.

"No. That's all. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Tim doesn't appreciate it right now, but I think he will once he works through this."

"It's already been more than two years."

"Yes, but there's no time limit on healing and he has more to work through than just his abduction. He has to figure out how to manage the life he loves and the life that could always appear. In a way, solitude is easier, but it's so much worse in the long run. Tim knows that which is why he's not tried to leave his family when he's thinking clearly. But he suffered a major blow when he realized that he would set aside his morals to save the people important to him. He needs to know that it doesn't make him gray. Or rather, he needs to believe it. He knows, but he doesn't apply it to himself. Not yet."

"Anything you think I can do?"

"Probably what you're already doing. I'm assuming that you're the one who confronted him about the training?"

"Yeah."

Levi smiled. "Then, you've started the process just by probing in that way you have. I think it will help. Maybe even enough. If anyone can break through Tim's stubbornness, it's probably you... because you might be more stubborn than he is."

Gibbs couldn't help but smile a little at that.

"If there's nothing else, Agent Gibbs, I hate to admit it, but I need to head to bed. As my wife says, what is too late for me is not too late for many other people, but I always pay for it if I ignore it."

Gibbs stood and Levi did as well.

"Thanks," Gibbs said again.

Levi nodded and then led him to the door. As he walked back to his car, Gibbs thought about that conversation, not just what Levi had told him but how he had spoken. While it was still the same person, the same mind, his expressiveness was very different from how he'd been before. And the only question he'd refused to answer was one that made sense to keep to himself. Gibbs had to admit that this had not been an aggravating conversation in any way. It had been surprising, possibly even a little confusing, but not aggravating.

Maybe Ducky had been the smartest of all of them in attempting to get to know this new Levi Carew.

Regardless, he had learned more about Tim's situation and he found that he appreciated hearing what Levi had to say about it.

Maybe they could help Tim get back to that previous mental state. It might take more than they could supply, but they could try.