Chapter 51

Ahmed woke up very suddenly. For a moment, he couldn't remember where he was and he feared that he was back in that horrible room, but then, it dawned on him that he was lying down, not tied to a chair. He relaxed and lay there on the bed, thinking about the conversation with Tim.

It had been a surprise to see his brother-in-law there, and Ahmed hadn't been sure that he wanted him there at all, but then, Tim had offered to leave, and Ahmed had understood that to mean not just at this moment, but permanently.

And did he want that? Did his ambivalence toward the man his sister had chosen to marry extend that far?

To be honest, Ahmed wasn't sure of that, but seeing Jonathan sleeping peacefully on his father's lap, he knew that he couldn't be a cause of any grief the boy would experience with a family rift.

That much decided, Ahmed stared at the ceiling for a long time in silence.

What would happen to him now?

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

Zahara woke up before Tim and she looked at him. He appeared to be sleeping deeply, although she expected that he'd wake up soon. She had awakened in the night when he had left. The note had been unnecessary, really, although she appreciated the gesture. It didn't surprise her that Tim had felt the need to be at the hospital. She was more surprised that he had come back before the night was over. She didn't know why Tim hadn't stayed, but she was glad he was home.

She was glad they were all home, but now, she thought about what would happen to her brother. Ahmed was safe now, yes, but what about when he returned to Egypt? Now that he had been associated with Tim, would others try to do the same thing? Would he always be in danger? She couldn't imagine that the CIA would protect him in Egypt. How could they? And yet, she knew that Ahmed wouldn't want to stay in the United States. While he had always claimed that he didn't view Americans in the same way that many did, it was obvious that he was definitely less enamored of the idea of being affiliated with the United States. She understood that, but she didn't want to have her brother in Egypt where he might always be in danger now. She wanted him to stay here, to be close to her, to be protected.

But she had to accept that Ahmed might not want that, even with what had happened. She didn't want to, but she might have to.

For now, they were home. They were safe. They were together.

And that deserved a special breakfast. Zahara decided that she needed baghrir for breakfast. She would make the honey sauce that Tim loved so much and everyone would be able to enjoy the meal and being together again.

She sat up and then, suddenly, it hit her that what she had such high hopes for had fallen apart so thoroughly. She sat on the edge of the bed and started crying. They had been having such fun together. Everything had gone so perfectly that the extent of the failure of the trip was accentuated by the early success. The only way things could have been worse would have been one of them dying. Her hope for a brighter future had led to ruin instead.

As she sat there, crying softly, suddenly, the mattress shifted and Tim was there, putting his arms around her, offering comfort in a way that he hadn't been able to give for a while. Too often in the last couple of years, Tim had been the one in need of comfort. Now, Zahara needed it and Tim was giving it to her. She leaned against him and let herself cry. For a while, that was all that happened. She cried and Tim held her, gently stroking her hair.

"It's all right," he whispered to her. "It's all right, Zahara."

"No, Tim," she said. "It's not all right. So much has gone wrong. So much pain. It was supposed to be something wonderful for all of us. Instead, it brought so much misery. This was my idea and it was a failure. It could have killed us. It almost killed my brother."

Tim hugged her tightly. Zahara rested her head on Tim's chest. She could feel his heart beating and the vibrations as he spoke softly.

"No, Zahara. It wasn't a failure, and it wasn't your fault. It ended badly, yeah. I wish it hadn't been that way, but..."

There was a long pause.

"But what?" Zahara whispered.

"But it didn't break me like I thought it would. I was so sure that I couldn't handle it. I was so sure that I'd ruin everything for everyone by falling apart again." Tim paused for a moment. "I'm not great. I'm still pretty shaky, but it's not like two years ago. ...and...and tonight, Ahmed called me his brother. For the first time since you became a U.S. citizen. I was sure he'd want nothing to do with me and I offered to give back the khamsa he gave me and to leave him alone if that was what he wanted. He wouldn't take it back and he called me his brother. Maybe it shouldn't make such a difference, but it does. Ahmed could hate me, Zahara. He would be justified if he did. He's not doing that. And that means something. It doesn't make everything good, but it's not the failure you think it is... that I was thinking it was."

Zahara pulled back and looked Tim in the eye, searching for any dissembling that said he was just suppressing his own problems to try and help her. He smiled a little, although he did still seem a little more shaky than she'd like to see.

"I know I'm weak, Zahara, but I'm telling the truth. I'm not going to fall as far as I did before."

Zahara shook her head and wiped away her tears.

"You are not weak, Tim. You have struggled, but you are not weak. Believe that you are strong enough. If you believe it... it will be true because I know you are."

Tim actually smiled a little.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well, that makes three people all telling me the same thing."

"Then, perhaps you should listen to us."

"Maybe. It's not that easy to do."

"You can do that, Tim."

Then, Tim suddenly shook himself and put his hands on her shoulders.

"I don't want you to blame yourself for what happened on our trip, either," he said. "I know how that feels and I don't want that for you. I wanted to go on this trip, too. We all wanted it to work out... and the first part of it did. We had fun. I got to see the pyramids. And while I don't think the tradeoff was worth it, I got to see Samia again."

"I was glad to meet her."

"It was awful and frightening, Zahara, but maybe over time, we can look at it and see the good things."

"Maybe." Zahara took a deep breath and pushed away her regret. "I am going to make baghrir today. We need it."

Tim leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Zahara reached up and cupped her hand on his cheek, brushing her fingers lightly over his scars.

"I love you," she said.

"And I love you," he said.

Then, to Zahara's surprise, he suddenly looked almost mischievous.

"What?"

"Make enough of the honey syrup."

She couldn't help it. In spite of the fear and regret she still felt, that made her laugh.

"There would always be enough if you would have some baghrir with your syrup."

"I do. Equal parts of both." Then, he sobered a little. "We'll get through this. I don't know what it will take, but we will."

Zahara nodded and then got up and went into the bathroom. When she came out, Tim was getting dressed, obviously to go out. It was a step she hadn't thought he would be able to take yet, but here he was, getting ready to leave the house, even after all this awfulness.

He looked up. "I'm going to see if I can get Marra out of Salma's room without waking her up."

Zahara nodded and then walked over to him and hugged him.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?" Tim asked.

"For being so strong when I need you to be."

She looked up and saw him smile a little weakly.

"I don't know if I'm as strong as you think I am."

"You are. Sometimes, I forget and you never seem to remember, but you are strong, Tim. You are the one who helped me see that I could love you. You are strong."

"I don't really want to go outside, Zahara. I want to stay in here. Actually, part of me wants to hide at NCIS because I've always been safe there."

"But you aren't doing that," Zahara said. "You are doing something you don't want to do and I am glad of it. For me and for you."

"We'll see if does any good."

"It already has."

Tim took a deep breath and rested his forehead on hers. Then, he let her go and left the bedroom. She waited and after a few seconds, she heard the click of Marra's paws on the floor. Tim had been successful in getting her out of the bedroom. Once the front door closed, She took a deep breath and then went down to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

They would eat together...and maybe soon, Ahmed could be with them.

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

Tim really didn't feel good about going outside, even with Marra by his side and the CIA guards on hand. However, he knew exactly why he felt that way because it was depressingly common for him. And while he still felt about as strong as jello, he wasn't going to make things harder on Zahara by hiding inside until he felt safe again. He could handle not feeling safe for a while. It happened far too often.

Still, as he reached the sidewalk, he wanted nothing more than to go back inside. Marra nuzzled his leg as if she could sense that he was not happy...which she probably could, really. For a few minutes, he just stood there, wondering if he could really bring himself to go running, even here in his neighborhood. Would his presence bring down more pain on the people around him? His innocent neighbors?

Then, just as he was ready to give up on doing this, he looked down the sidewalk and was surprised to see Norris walking toward him. What was he doing here when Tim himself hadn't even been sure he would be able to get outside this morning?

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Norris smiled. "I've been outside your house the last couple of days. I thought you might not be up to your regular route."

"I don't know if I'm up to this route, either," Tim said, smiling weakly.

"You want to try it? I can tell Marra does."

"Marra always does," Tim said.

Norris chuckled.

Tim took a deep breath and then nodded.

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. You set the pace."

Tim nodded again but hesitated. Norris just gestured and Tim took another breath and then started to run with Marra keeping close to him the whole time. Not a single tug on the leash. She was right with him, matching her pace to his.

They didn't go very far, only a couple of miles, but Tim was on edge the whole time. However, having Norris there was strangely helpful. It wasn't like one extra person was really going to make a difference if the worst happened, but at the same time, having Norris right there with him really did make it easier.

When they got back to his house, Norris paused and then smiled.

"What?" Tim asked, his brow furrowing.

"Bob was asking about you."

"Bob was?" Tim asked in surprise. That Bob of all people was wondering about him was more of a shock than anything else. He wasn't sure how to respond. "So... that really is his name?"

Norris chuckled. "I don't know. That's what he says it is. Anyway, when you feel up to it, he'd probably like to know how you're doing."

"That's ascribing more... caring to him than I'd think he had."

"I know. I could be wrong, but he did ask."

"Okay. Thanks, Hakeem."

"Not a problem. You think you'll be ready to get back to the park route?"

Tim let out his breath in a whoosh. "I don't know."

"Okay. No problem. See you tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Norris jogged away and Tim went inside, smelling baghrir and hearing his children laughing. Marra got excited and started tugging.

It almost felt like a normal morning.

Tim let Marra drag him into the kitchen, but he kept on the leash in case Zahara wasn't ready for her. Zahara was making the baghrir and Salma and Jonathan were sitting at the table, still in their pajamas, coloring.

"Baba!" Salma said. She jumped off her chair and ran over to hug him.

Jonathan followed behind her.

Tim knelt down and hugged his children.

"Good morning," he said.

"Breakfast is almost ready," Zahara said. "You should shower. Marra, your food is ready."

Marra tugged toward her dish and Tim unclipped the leash, satisfied that she'd stay out of the way for the moment. Tim walked over to Zahara and kissed her on the forehead.

"Everything all right?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

"Good."

"How was your run?"

"I almost didn't make it. Norris came by and ran with me."

"Good. Go shower. You are smelly." She smiled.

Tim laughed a little and then ran up to shower. He was quick and then he came down to sit at the table and eat breakfast. As he sat there, listening to Zahara pray over their meal, he felt the khamsa he wore. Had it protected him? He didn't know, but having it now felt better.

Maybe today could be a good day.