Scandal 7

"How far did you get into them?" Tim asked, shyly. He had been wondering when they would begin to read the emails. He would have preferred that no one read them, but he knew that was just a pipedream, a fantasy. That eventually everyone would read them. Not only because it was their job and would form a part of the investigation into any wrongdoings, but also because it was human nature to be inquisitive and they were all seasoned investigators.

"... 'You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.' ― Grace Willows.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY! - Another year older, another year wiser. You have driven me to madness, and you've driven me mad on my knees. You are my king, my heart and my soul. It is your birthday today and while we had plans to celebrate, I am once again, out of the country on your birthday. It is not intentional, as you are well aware, Senator. I guess I am asking for a raincheck...I promise, I have plans. Oh, the plans I do have. " Leon read aloud and Tim winced. Of all the emails for the Director to read out loud, it had to be that particular one.

"I beg you not to read the next part out loud." Tim begged in a wry voice and a small smirk. Tim knew that they were at the beginning still, with lots more emails to go and that hurt. There were painful, angry, hurt-filled things yet to read. There were arguments. There was jealousy. There was irrationality. But there was also love, lust, passion, want. There was tenderness, serenity, hope. Plans for their future. Their fears were there too, their most private and intimate thoughts, stripped bare for the taking. "Read it if you must, just not out loud." Tim groaned.

Leon scanned the email ahead, not reading out loud, as he watched Tim over the top of the page. "OK, McGee." He conceded. He had read how Tim had gone on about how much he missed him and how he had planned to celebrate his boyfriend's birthday in intimate detail. "I agree that one does not need to be read out loud." Leon hastily rushed out, sending McGee a small smirk, letting the younger man know that everything was ok.

" ... 'I may not always be with you. But when we're far apart. Remember you will be with me. Right inside my heart.' ― Marc Wambolt.

It maybe my birthday, today, but you will be the one being showered with gifs. Ha! See what I did there? I made one of those stupid ridiculous puns that you and Sam send one another. On a serious note. It blows that you are not here to celebrate my birthday with me. But this is the price I have to pay when I share a birthday with your grandmother, and she has a milestone birthday. Oh, and she is actually in town to celebrate her birthday, for a change.

I would never pressure you to come out to anyone, especially to them. Everyone should be out on their own terms; you know how I feel about that. However, I hope you know that I choose not to be out, to protect you.

Has he ... said anything to you yet? Or is he still in denial of what he walked in on? That will teach the homophobic, self-inflated ego of a man. Sorry, I know he is your father, but he a condescending asshole. I can't imagine you're having a great time of it over there, cooped up in that cold house with your homophobic father, your crazy, ass-kissing sister and your free-spirited, but highly rigid grandmother. Not to mention your sister's idiotic boyfriend. The man is tosser, seriously. He isn't even attractive. What does she see in him? But then again ... I am biased. My boyfriend is drop dead gorgeous, stunning even and a literal genius. Miss you."

"Thanksgiving in '04." Tim supplied at the end of Sarah Porter reading of Nathan's email out loud. His mind had transported him back to the time where and when he had first read that email. He had been laying on his bed in his grey heather navy tee and cotton plaid PJ bottoms, reading the cold case file he had been working on, in his spare time. "Sarah was dating this guy with blue and green hair, a spike piercing through his ear and a bullring between his nostrils. The man was strange. Like he was strung out on something, strange. It wasn't too serious for her, but Sarah liked him though, and she had just brought him home to tick our father off and get his attention ... it worked, too."

" ... He said he could still smell you on me. I am sorry I didn't call you. You're with your family, I didn't want to intrude. Family time is supposed to be precious, sacred. You were raised with a loving supportive family, and I was not. But I know enough to know, not to intrude. Penny is with me, though. She is the best and the worst of me. My only support. She doesn't know of you though, doesn't know what the argument was over, just that we had an altercation. They don't think that it's broken, not even sprained or jarred. Just badly bruised. Thankfully we have the week off. If I tried to hold anything heavier than a piece of paper right now, I would fail.

... 'Who is the more courageous? The big, tough gay-basher, or the LGBTI person who faces their threats on a daily basis and carries on being honest about who they are regardless?' ― Christina Engela.

I don't feel courageous right now. I feel tired. I am tired. Tired of not being loved and accepted for who I am. Penny officially knows now. I told her in the car on the way home from the hospital. Not knows about you, but knows what I am. Who I am. I am sure she may privately suspect that maybe there is someone special in my life, also.

'Reality continues to ruin my life.' ― Bill Watterson."

Gibbs straightened up and looked at Tim, carefully. Leon had been reading out loud and Ducky had been hovering behind Tim. Gibbs had exchanged worried glances with his friend. The subtext had been clear for everyone in the room. His father had hurt him for his sexual orientation.

"What did he do to you, my dear boy?" Ducky asked in a worry, his voice was small and horrified. He was looking gravely concerned for his young friend. Ducky and Penny were on good terms. Good terms, but distant, now. They had once been involved, but it had fizzled out, like all of the relationships Penny had partaken in since his grandfather's death six years ago.

"It doesn't matter now, Ducky." Tim tried to brush off his friend's worry. But the two older gentlemen were having none of it. "It was years ago and I ... it has been dealt with."

"Let it go, Duck." Gibbs warned in a low voice. He could see the hurt and the pain in his agent's eyes. The pain and the trauma of whatever the hell had happened was bubbling too close to the surface, combined with the tumultuous day he had been having so far, Tim McGee was teetering on the precipice. He didn't want to undo all of the hard work Tim had done putting it behind him. "Let's just get on with getting through these emails."

" ... 'Self pity becomes your oxygen. But you learned to breathe it without a gasp. So, nobody even notices you're hurting.' ― Paul Monette

Breathe Baby, breathe. First off can I just say that you are the strongest, most courageous man I know? Hell, I am so proud of you. Your actions, rather than inactions are your most admirable quality. Today, you stood up for yourself, you stood up for us and you faced that danger, head on. I have said it before and I will say it again, I am so proud of you. I will also tell you again, over and over, when we're alone...Until you believe me.

You fought for us today, in a way I have never seen you fight for us before. Did you see the look on his face? I thought the newly promoted Admiral was shitting bricks. He definitely thought you were going to take a swing at him. I know he busted your wrist, but you were still willing to bust his face with your left wrist, my hero.

But seriously, we both know that violence isn't the answer, and that is what makes me even more proud of you. You didn't compromise on your morals, your values or your ethics. That takes courage.

In your previous email, you quoted Christina Engela. 'Who is the more courageous? The big, tough gay-basher, or the LGBTI person who faces their threats on a daily basis and carries on being honest about who they are regardless?'

You replied: I don't feel courageous now. I feel tired. I am tired. Tired of not being loved and accepted for who I am. Penny officially knows now. I told her in the car on the way home. Not knows about you, but knows what I am. Who I am. But you should feel courageous. Not everyone has courage. You have the heart of a lion. Strong and brave. Fearless.

I certainly don't have the same courage that you do. I'm not brave, like you. You have nerves of steel. But I get it, you have to. To do the job you do. And word around the office is, that you are good.

You once told me you could never be out because you couldn't risk it. That you weren't raised in a loving, supportive family like I was. You're right, you weren't. The Admiral is a son of a bitch, his words, not mine. Mine are stronger and require me to be a lot more drunk than I will be by the time I am finished writing you.

(Then they would have me heading to confession too and not for the usual reason a member of the McGee family has me in the confessional for. In case you missed the blatant, suggestive manner in which my jest was intended, I was referring to you and all the sinful things that you do to my mind, my body and my soul.)

Penny, she loves you and she is free-spirited, but she is all about her own endeavors. You once told me she stepped in, when she didn't have to. She loves you; she supports you. But she is a grandparent, not a parent and let's face it, she raised the Admiral and look how he turned out. Sarah has the same cold indifference to you as he does, she has the same prejudices and she had to have learnt it from him. You've said it enough times to me to know - "She is Daddy's little girl."

So, on this side of the fence I sit with parents who love and adore one another more today than they did yesterday. Parents that are open, loving, understanding, supportive. A sister who I love and who I know loves her little brother, just as much. I can't wait for you to meet her. Jess is amazing. She's just started teaching business at GW now. An extended family who love me just as much as I love them and I stand here before you, scared. Terrified, frozen in time, I don't have the words to come out and tell my family the truth.

I am not scared of their rejection. I am scared of how they will see me, perceive me. But I guess that is the point of coming out. However ... that being said, I would never push you or pressure you. I love you too much for that.

I am sure you know what is coming out of my mouth next, but... I am going to type it, nonetheless because you need to see it, to read it, to believe it ... 'There's this idea that if you're not straight, you HAVE to tell all your family and friends immediately, like you owe it to them. But you don't. You don't have to do anything until you're ready.' ― Alice Oseman

"Insightful." Ducky murmured when Gibbs had stopped reading Nathan's email to them.

"The Admiral was in town, something on at the Pentagon." Tim explained himself as he began to pace and wring his hands, as he spoke. "He offered me a ride to Norfolk, knowing that I needed to be back in DC the following morning, as did he for some committee advisory board meeting. Things were already strained between us, as I had joined NCIS and Dad had made his opinions clear on that issue. He had wanted me to enlist in the Navy, instead."

Gibbs sat by, holding his bated breath. He hadn't seen Tim willingly offer up personal information this intimate before. Usually, it was a small snippet here or there and Tim brushed everything negative off as it was ok. But it was never ok in Gibbs' book.

"He said he would be by to collect me at midday. It was just after 0800, he used his emergency key and let himself into my apartment. I won't go into what happened, but Nate came out to see what the commotion was all about. He took a look at me, completely dishevelled and looked at Nate, who was wearing my NCIS sweats, and asked me who my roommate was. He and Nate had met no less than ten times beforehand and up until then, he had always remembered his name."

Tim took a deep breath and mentally steadied himself. He used this opportunity to look at the small group of people gathered in Gibbs' shot up living room while Balboa and his team were working outside, combing the scene for evidence. "The whole ride down to Norfolk was spent by him lecturing me on the evils of homosexuality and how if I had of joined the Navy like he asked, I wouldn't possess those particular ... proclivities.

After dinner and a couple of whiskeys, he made some underhanded remarks about me smelling like a man's cologne. Never mind the fact that I am also a man and I identify, as a man. But when he upped the ante and called me some derogatory names, that I am too much of a gentleman to repeat, he grabbed my wrist and bent it back, twisting it. He dislocated it and I lost it with him. I told him the truth and lost my cool. I ... I don't even remember what I said to him. He backhanded me across the face and Penny walked in, she got between us before he could throw a punch and separated us. But I was done with him."

Tim looked up at the expected faces of Gibbs, Vance, Ducky and the Secretary of the Navy and he set his face in a grim, tight-lipped smile. "When I returned, I had my locks on my apartment door changed and I have not spoken or been in the same room as my father since that night."

"He should never have laid a hand on you." Gibbs seethed, reaching out gently to see if Tim would take a seat beside him again. "You owe that bastard, nothing." Gibbs hissed, letting his anger at John McGee shine through. "I need you to promise to tell me if that bastard so much as looks at you again."

"Ok, Boss." Tim agreed.