Chapter Text
"And once the storm is over you won't remember you how made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what the storm's all about."
~ Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore
Chapter 1
Tim sat, staring at his typewriter. He rarely used it. He had kept it but it was rare that he felt good enough to sit down and type. Just seeing it brought back the painful memory of seeing Abby murdered by his crazed fan.
In the six months that he'd been back in D.C., he had nearly given up more times than he could count. It was so easy to fall back into the pain and guilt. It was too easy to fall apart. Tony had tentatively suggested that Tim might want to talk about Abby sometime. He had even suggested the idea of a memorial, a time when they could all get together and reminisce, but Tim rarely felt able to talk about Abby and he generally refused any invitation to do so. A formal get-together was out of the question as far as he was concerned. The only person who could consistently get Tim to talk about Abby was Dr. Daniels, his therapist. Tim was still having therapy and he knew he needed it. He was sometimes tempted to stop, and on occasion, had tried to, but his friends didn't let him. They checked on him all the time, determined not to let him be lost again.
...and yet, he still felt lost in some ways. He didn't feel like himself really. He felt like a different person and he knew his friends felt the same way, although they'd never admit to it. Some days, he could almost be normal, but they were rare. Most of the time, he still felt like he was just trying to survive the day. He knew everyone could tell. And yet, at the same time, he didn't feel like he could abandon the life he now had back. He had given it up once, but now that he had it back, he couldn't give it up again. However, there was so far to go. Tim hadn't yet gone down to the lab. He'd made it as far as seeing the doors and then he couldn't bring himself to go any further. That was his life in a nutshell. It wasn't really what he wanted it to be but he also didn't think he could do anything about it yet. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He just knew he didn't have it yet.
He had to admit that Teresa and Oliver had been very kind to him and more understanding than he deserved. He would occasionally talk to them outside the building, but never in the lab. So he really only knew them socially, not as colleagues. He knew they were colleagues, but he never interacted with them that way. He knew that the wedding was getting ever closer and that Teresa had recently told everyone that she and her husband Alejandro were expecting their first child. He was genuinely happy for them and the way things were going in their lives, but he avoided any mention of the lab or anything obliquely connected to Abby.
Finally, he looked at the clock, forcing himself to pay attention to the time that still sometimes passed in strange dollops. It was late enough that he could go to work instead of sitting here in this apartment that didn't feel like his, even though his stuff was there. As ambivalent as he was about work, in some ways, home was worse because there was nothing to distract him from the painful memories.
But there was not one drop of alcohol in his apartment. After what he'd done to himself in Maine, Tim knew that he couldn't let himself go down that road again. He knew where he'd end up. So he kept the temptation far away from him.
But it was time to go to work. Thank goodness.
He got up from the desk, leaving the page blank. He gathered his stuff and left.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tim was at work early, just as he had been nearly every day since he'd got his own apartment four months ago.
Gibbs wasn't sure if that was something to be concerned about or not, but while Tim was far from his old self, he knew that Jenny couldn't find any fault in his work, and he knew that she'd tried to find a reason why Tim should not be there. There wasn't because the best argument against Tim being there would be counted as discrimination based on a mental health condition. So she hadn't said anything, but Gibbs knew how she felt. He just didn't care. If Tim wanted to be there, then, he would be there, and his work at his computer was flawless. Gibbs rarely took him to crime scenes and never to arrests, but Tim's work was good as it always had been.
It was just that it was far too obvious that Tim was still traumatized by what had happened to Abby. He had been reluctant to recertify with his weapon and Gibbs hadn't realized why until he went to evaluate Tim's technique at the shooting range. Tim had winced every time a gun had been fired. Every time. He hated hearing it. He still could hit the target, but he had hated being there. He hated having a gun. He hated needing to shoot it. So without making an issue of it, Gibbs had simply cut back on the number of times that Tim was required to carry his weapon. If Tim had noticed that, he hadn't said anything either for or against it.
For now, Gibbs was still trying to make up for all the time he had spent not caring about Tim. What Ducky had said to him before about how deep Tim's pain must have been came back to him every time he saw Tim sitting alone. In a way, Tim's emotional wound had not stopped bleeding. It wasn't just that it hadn't quite healed yet. It was still actively painful. Would that healing ever happen? Gibbs didn't know, and he still blamed himself for the fact that Tim had been able to spend nearly a year punishing himself for what had happened to Abby. He didn't think he could have stopped the pain, but he could have stopped the punishment a lot sooner. And Tim would never have been alone like he had been... like he still was in some ways.
His phone rang, interrupting his thoughts..
"Gibbs," he said tersely.
"Gibbs, it is Ziva."
"What is it?"
"Oliver is taking a day off today and I am going to stay with him. I am sorry for the late notice but it is necessary."
"He sick?"
"No. His mother called him last night and kept him up very late. It has been twenty years since his sister disappeared and she has never quite recovered. It has... been a hard night for him. I do not want him to be alone today. He is still in bed now."
"All right."
"Thank you, Gibbs."
"Yeah."
Gibbs hung up and he thought about that. Would he have been so easygoing about that last-minute request to take a personal day two years ago? Would Ziva have wanted to stay with someone just to make them feel better two years ago?
A lot of things had changed. Not just Tim, even if his changes were, by far, the most dramatic.
The elevator dinged and Tony came in. He wasn't completely himself, either, although he was doing much better than he been before. He was almost normal.
"Morning, McGee," Tony said. "How's it going?"
Tim looked up from his computer and smiled a little. It wasn't an idle question. It was a serious one and everyone knew it. Tim answered it the same way. The rest of the conversation was refreshingly normal for the beginning of the work day.
"All right. Phone records aren't panning out, though."
"Maybe Grimson wasn't using his own phone."
"I don't think he was, but I can't find which phone he was using."
"Hmmm... Hey, where's Ziva?"
"Not here yet."
"Oh. Weird. I know that she's usually here before I am. Was traffic bad for you?"
"No. Not more than usual," Tim said.
Gibbs walked into view and sat down at his desk.
"She won't be here today."
"Oh," Tony said. "Why not?"
"Oliver won't be in either."
Then, suddenly, Tim not only surprised him but absolutely shocked him.
"Oh, it's because of his sister, the one who went missing. Isn't it," Tim said.
Gibbs looked at him and Tony was overtly shocked.
"Yeah, McGee. Twenty years ago today."
"How did you know that, Probie?" Tony asked.
"Oliver told me once," Tim said and shrugged. "I just remembered it."
"Huh. I hope he's okay tomorrow. Teresa won't be happy about that. She hates it when Oliver is gone."
Tim smiled a little but the pain had returned at the oblique mention of where Abby had been. Gibbs was impressed that Tim mostly managed to keep from expressing it. For his part, Tony didn't mention it, although Gibbs knew that he'd seen it as well. He would likely be watching Tim more closely for a while just to make sure that the momentary flash wouldn't become sustained.
"Well, I'll go down and check with her," Tony said. "Make sure that nothing's going to be delayed because she'll be working alone."
Gibbs nodded, and Tony went to the elevator. Tim glanced after him but no more than that. He made no move to follow and no move to avoid looking. He just turned back to his computer and got back to work.
Gibbs watched him for a moment and then got back to work himself. It wasn't normal yet; maybe it never would be, but it was better. He could hope that it would get more normal over time.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tony sighed a little as he rode the elevator down. Would there ever be a day when Tim wasn't negatively affected by the slightest mention of something related to Abby? The thing was that he couldn't give Tim an ultimatum as he had done with Gibbs. He knew Tim was trying and any suggestion that he was hurting anyone else would lead to Tim giving up and disappearing again because the absolute last thing Tim could handle was a suggestion that he was even inconvenient to anyone. He felt that about himself too often as it was. Everyone knew it, even if no one said it. Sometimes, he was so close to normal, but it never lasted.
It was better than it had been initially. It could keep getting better.
Maybe this is how Ziva felt back when Gibbs and I were the ones dragging everyone down.
If so, Tony could see why she had fled to the lab, just as he was doing now.
He walked in and saw Teresa standing at her computer, although it was obviously just booting up so she hadn't been there long.
"Good morning," he said.
Teresa turned around in surprise.
"Oh, Tony," she said and smiled. "I guess you've heard that I've been abandoned for today?"
"Did Ziva call you or did Oliver?" Tony asked.
Teresa smiled. "Oliver did. Well, he sent me a text message late last night."
"Ziva's staying with him today."
"Oh, that's good of her. I mean, I know they're engaged and everything and so that's obviously what she'd be willing to do, but it's hard being there when that's all you can do. She can't change anything about the past and neither can Oliver. Most of the time, he's just fine with it and he's accepted it, but sometimes, it just can't be ignored and when that happens... You just have to be able to roll with the punches because there's no other option."
"Yeah," Tony said, thinking about Tim. That was exactly the situation only more intense. They were all trying to do that, but it wasn't just one bad day.
"Were you just making sure I knew?"
"Well, that and checking to see if you thought that the loss of your illustrious leader would mean delays."
Teresa smiled. "Probably not, but if there's a lot of stuff that comes in, I'll definitely be slower." Then, her smile became a little more gentle. "Are you hiding, Tony?"
"Yeah, a little."
"I know it doesn't help, but you know that Tim doesn't really enjoy this process either."
"Yes, I know, and no, it doesn't help."
Teresa patted him consolingly on the shoulder.
"It'll get better, Tony. Just like Oliver will get over this day, Tim will get through this. He's really trying. I mean, there are some mornings when he waits outside just to say hi to Oliver and me when we get to work. He's reaching out as much as he thinks he can. It's just... still hard and I know you all want it to be be better."
"Yeah. I just hope it can be," Tony said, letting out a sigh. "I had hoped that it would be... not like this by now."
"I know. But after a year, what he was doing to himself... Tony, that might be asking too much."
"I know." Tony took a breath and straightened. "Well, anything I can do?"
"Not anything that you won't mess up."
Tony laughed. "Oh, touché. All right, I'll get back to my own work. Good luck."
"Thanks. You, too."
Tony nodded. "Thanks."
He headed back up to the bullpen, hoping that things would be better.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Ziva poked her head into the bedroom and smiled. Oliver was still sleeping. Or at least he was lying there with his eyes closed, something he'd done occasionally just so that he didn't have to talk to anyone.
She walked over and sat down on the bed beside him.
"Oliver?" she whispered.
As she had thought, he rolled over and opened his eyes. Then, he smiled a little, although the tension was still there.
"Hey, sorry to ruin your day. You could have gone to work."
She smiled and kissed him gently.
"It did not ruin my day. I am glad to be here with you."
Oliver took a breath and sat up in bed.
"I should have warned you about how Mom gets. Every year, it's like the very first day that Chrissy went missing. Usually, I can avoid getting sucked into it with her, but... twenty years. It's just... too significant."
"It is not your fault. It is not your mother's fault."
Oliver shook his head. "No, to a degree, it is her fault. Mom has never tried to get over it. I'm not saying she would have succeeded, but she's never really tried. Every year. Every single year. She falls apart on the anniversary. Sometimes, I've wondered if she subconsciously thinks she's supposed to do it. Regardless, it shouldn't be like this, but it was last night."
"It is all right."
He took a deep breath and then took Ziva's left hand and rubbed his fingers over the ring on her finger.
"No second thoughts?" he asked.
"Of course not. Now, it is very late in the morning and you should get out of bed."
"You're right. I should." He didn't look enthusiastic about it even as he agreed.
"Then, do it, and I will make you breakfast."
"You don't need to."
"No, but you need me to," Ziva said. She nodded and then went to the kitchen.
Oliver's depression had taken her by surprise the night before because he had always spoken of his sister as something he'd dealt with, something in the past. But his mother's tears, her detailed recounting of everything that had happened the day his sister had vanished, had all conspired to break through his usual calm.
But he would get through it, and Ziva knew it. She would just be there to help as she could... even just by being there.