Chapters Nine and Ten
A new, more colorful room came into focus as I came out of anesthesia. Tony leaned back in an uncomfortable looking chair that was pulled next to my bed. He looked tired, like we had been on a two day stakeout.
“Probie, welcome back.” Tony wiped his eyes, stretched, and smiled. He leaned up. “If you had woken up a couple hours earlier, Gibbs would have been here. He’d been here since you got wheeled into surgery, and he made me and Abby go home.”
“How long was he here?” My voice sounded gravelly.
“ Maybe 16 hours? Your surgery took five and he was in here the rest of the time. The garbage can was full of coffee cups when I finally convinced him to leave.”
I smiled a little. “He’s probably working on his boat.”
“Who could sleep after all that coffee?” Tony grinned.
I began to laugh and it turned into a noise of pain. I scrunched my face up.
“You okay?” Tony got that look again, the same one when he saw me in the ER.
“I’m okay…didn’t know I couldn’t laugh.”
Suddenly I felt really tired again. Tony could tell.
“Go back to sleep, McDrugged, you need rest. Don’t expect me to keep being nice!”
“Yeah, yeah…” I waved him off, turned my head, and went back to sleep.
----------
Someone was sitting much closer when I woke up again. I turned my head and Ziva was fast asleep. Her arms were folded at the edge of my bed, head resting on top of them.
“Ziva…” I whispered.
“What?!” She bolted upright, and threw her hands up in combat position.
“Oh, McGee, you’re awake.” She put her hands down and relaxed.
I smiled at her. “So what was with Blythe?”
“Oh.” She waved her hand as if it were nothing. “He squealed like a squid when I had him in interrogation.”
“Like a pig?”
“Oh yes, squealed like a pig…makes more sense.”
“What was his involvement?”
“He apparently knew Silvers from high school, and covered for him in return for a large sum of money. He made a deal with us because he never got it. You killed Silvers before Blythe could be paid off.”
I looked away. Killing him seemed…normal, like a reflex. Had I become that cruel?
“I know what you are thinking.” Ziva touched my arm, and I looked at her. “You are still a good man, McGee.”
“Thanks Ziva…”
“Oh! I brought you these, in case you…you know.”
Ziva brought out a brand new radio and put it on the side of my bed. It was a lot nicer than the one Silvers broke.
“Wow, Ziva…You shouldn’t have!” I took the box in both hands, and it felt heavy, I dropped it into my lap. Stupid painkillers…
“Oh, sorry, I forgot how weak you would be from the drugs…” She took the radio and set it onto my night stand. “There’s something else, too.”
Ziva pulled the Silvers file from a bag and sat it on top of the radio box. “It has Blythe’s confession inside and why he thinks Silvers did it all. I know this is not a great time…”
“It’s okay, I wanted to see it. Does Gibbs know?”
Ziva broke eye contact. I guess that’s a no. I smiled and hid the file in the night stand drawer.
“Is it okay if I go and get some coffee?” Ziva wasn’t very good with emotions, but I knew she cared. I’m sure she hated seeing me this way. I mean, she was asking me for permission to leave…
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m not really, uh…going anywhere.”
Ziva smiled genuinely for the first time in a while. She squeezed my shoulder.
“Be right back.” She left the door ajar. I fell asleep again before she returned.
----------
My sedatives seemed to be wearing off a little because I was dreaming again. I was in my hospital bed. I looked up and Lisa stood beside me. She was covered in bandages, all over her head, face, and arms. She wore the same neutral-colored gown as I had on, along with a robe. She gingerly lifted the side of my gown where I had been stabbed. There were no bandages, no gauze, just a large, ugly scar. She ran her fingers over it, and looked at me sadly.
I woke up for a third time, and there was pressure on my arm. Someone was holding my hand, with their head resting on my forearm. Abby…I just knew.
I opened my eyes and saw the top of Abby’s head. Her normally neat black hair was haphazardly pulled into a single ponytail down her back. I tried to move my hand, and she sat up.
“Oh, Timmy,” Abby gushed. She leaned up and smiled. Her makeup was smeared. It looked as if she had been crying, and then slept.
“I must look awful.” She sounded stuffy, as if her crying had been recent. She ran her fingers through her hair, and then mine, and wiped her face.
“Abby, you’re beautiful, as always.”
Abby leaned over into the bed and put her arms around me. I hugged her tightly, trying not to tangle us in my IV tubes.
“How are you?” Abby pulled far enough away to where we were face to face.
“I’m okay, Abby. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“For making you worry.”
“Oh, stop it. You didn’t do it on purpose. And besides, your wound will make a gnarly piece of artwork for my wall.”
“Glad I could be of service.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that, Timmy! Oh, and I got you a new phone. Someone stomped on your house phone..." Abby pointed to a box on the floor.
A nurse walked in and gave Abby and I an odd look. She was basically laying in the bed with me now.
“Oops.” Abby climbed out of my bed as the nurse put something else into my IV.
“I brought you Bert!” Abby pulled the hippo from the side of the bed and it let out a loud, joyous fart.
The nurse giggled.
“It was the hippo!” I tried to explain as the nurse began to leave.
“Sure it was,” the Nurse shook her head. “See you in three hours.”
I began to feel drowsy again, and Abby laced her fingers through mine.
“Rest, Timmy. I’ll be here for a little longer.”
I drifted quietly into sleep again after squeezing Abby’s hand.
----------
“…glad that the knife didn’t knick anything too serious, dear boy. They would have had to remove your spleen, if you still had one.”
I opened my eyes to Ducky.
“I’m not dead, Ducky.”
“I talk to the living just as much Timothy. Did you catch any of that, by chance?”
“Something about a spleen?”
“Oh, dear…I guess I’ll have to start over…”
“NO! I mean, no, Ducky, that’s okay….um….didn’t you have some questions for me?”
“Your psych evaluation, yes. Are you sure you want to bring all this up now?”
“I think so.”
Ducky took a deep breath and brought a voice recorder, a pen, and a small notepad from inside his jacket. I imagined he had done this before.
The nurse came in to give me more painkillers, the same ones that were making me sleepy.
“No, I don’t want it.”
She looked surprised. “You sure? I won’t be able to come back for a while.”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”
The nurse left and Ducky put the recorder in my lap. “Ready?”
“Just do it.”
Ducky turned on the recorder and dove into the questions immediately.
“Tell me about James Silvers in your own words.”
I exhaled. “Silvers didn’t deserve to be a Marine. He objectified women to the point of obsession, used his position to attract vulnerable targets. His life was handed to him, education included. Silvers was an overall evil person who I think could not have been rehabilitated.”
“Almost all men objectify women, Timothy, even if they do not admit it. And as I recall, your father bought everything you ever wanted. He even offered to pay for college.”
“I got a scholarship, Ducky. I worked for who I am now, honestly and fairly. I didn’t choose to be born into wealth.”
“And Silvers chose it?”
“No, but he chose to use his power for evil. He preyed on women, befriended them, degraded their bodies, and left them for dead!”
“And that’s why you hate him?”
“Yes…I mean…” Damn it.
“You mean what?”
I looked at Ducky pleadingly, and he changed the subject.
“Why did Rachel’s death hit you so personally?”
“Because I could have saved her” and because she looked just like my sister....
“No, dear boy. She would have bled out regardless.”
His words stung. I looked up at the ceiling.
“There’s something else that made this personal for you. There was another woman, one you thought you could save?”
I remembered my first year with the team. I was on stakeout for the first time, alone.
“Erin…”
“Yes. You watched her die, did you not?”
I saw her being strangled before me like it had only just happened. My heart pounded the same as when I was running across the street and up the stairs to her apartment….
“She was dead when I got to her apartment. I kneeled and gave her CPR anyway. I didn’t even clear the room, and got hit over the head with a lamp.”
I reached up and felt the tiny scar on the back of my head. My vision began to get glossy with tears.
“She died on your watch and you let the killer escape?”
“Yes.”
“You thought saving Rachel and catching Silvers would justify that?”
“Yes.”
“Did you want to kill Silvers at that point?”
“No. I just wanted the dirtbag to rot in prison.”
“Was it when he killed his second victim, Ava, right under your nose, that you wanted to kill him?”
“No.” I lied.
“But you did, Timothy. You killed James Silvers.”
“I was defending myself.”
“According to evidence, you attacked first.”
“He had a knife to Lisa…Agent Favereaux’s throat, and a gun to my head.”
“Surely both of you were taught how to handle an armed fugitive.”
“I felt a threat to my life and the life of a co-worker.” I was shaking now.
“So you thought the only solution would be double-tapping Silvers in the heart?”
“I shoot to kill.” I felt like dirt when it escaped my lips. What had I become?
“You were glad he was dead.”
“Yes.”
“And you’d do it again.”
“Yes.”
“But Agent Favereaux, she was more than a co-worker?”
“A friend.”
‘You would kill for just a friend?”
“Yes.” Tears began to fall into my lap as I stared into my open hands. I’d never see a gun or badge again.
“I’m unstable, Ducky. I’m not fit to leave this hospital.” I shook more violently. “You have to give that tape to Vance, and when he hears it, I’m gone.”
“Timothy, calm down.” Ducky put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re right, you’re not fit to leave this hospital, but not because you’re mentally unstable. I’ve had the recorder off for some time now.”
I looked up and Ducky patted my cheek. “There is nothing wrong with you, dear boy. You did what you had to do in your situation. You have yet to deal with your grief, if any. I am probably correct in my assumption that you are still holding on to Caitlin…and you’re in love. As far as your evaluation, you are quite fit to be an agent. More than fit.”
I stared at Ducky in disbelief.
“I’m here if you ever need to talk. No recorder. You know where to find me.”
Ducky looked much older at this moment. He looked sad, and tired. He patted my cheek once more and left.
A sharp pain was emerging in my side. I hoped that the nurse would be back soon. I leaned back in my bed and heard voices outside my door.
“I refuse to do something like this again, Jethro. The boy is vulnerable. That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. And I cut open bodies everyday for God’s sake! Don’t expect me to be the cruel shrink ever again.”
“Thank you, Duck. I know he wouldn’t have talked to anyone but you.”
Ducky’s voice softened. “Only for you, Jethro. And for him.”
I stopped listening, and looked out the window, letting my tears fall freely.
I have to get out of this bed.
I have to see Lisa.
I just want to be okay again.
The nurse came in and gave me a double dose of whatever she had been giving me all day, and I succumbed to sleep in less than two minutes.