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Chapter Text

Once More, with Feeling

Much to the amusement of the ER doctor, Tony was still buzzing from the adrenaline after his near fall.  Taping the gauze over a scrape on his arm, Dr. Adams shook his head.  "All right, Agent DiNozzo, we're done here.  I'd suggest not driving until you've had a chance to decompress a bit and no more falling off of any buildings, alright?"

"Hey, Doc, I didn't fall, my partner caught me and he's my ride home."

"Well then, I think you owe the man a beer and probably a steak.  Go on, get out of here, I've got real patients to take care of."

"Aye, Aye, Sir."  Giving a salute, Tony bounced off the exam table, grinning at the pretty nurse that had helped clean the scrapes as she listened, wide-eyed, to his retelling of their capture of Lt. Arnett's terrorist wife.  He wasn't sure he was going to buy McGee a steak, but beer and pizza sounded pretty good right now.

In the waiting room he looked around, but saw no sign of his fellow agent.  Figuring the man was in the bathroom, he pulled out his phone and dialed, giving one last smile to the nurse as the doors into the emergency department swung shut.  After ringing the required number of times, the call kicked over to voice mail and Tony stared at his phone before scrambling to leave a message.

"McGee, I'm ready to go, where are you?"

After five minutes and no sight of his wayward partner, he tried again.  "Not funny, Probie.  Doc says you're supposed to buy me a beer so hurry it up."

While he waited again, DiNozzo poked his head into the various bathrooms around the waiting room, looking for familiar shoes in any of the stalls.  When that also failed to turn up McGee, he called again, this time a different number.

"Hey, Boss."

~DiNozzo, did you get cleared to come back to work?~

"Yeah, just cuts and bruises, but..."

~Good, then you and McGee get back here.~

"That's the thing, Boss.  I can't find McGee and he's got the car keys."

~What do you mean, you can't find him?  Did you try his cell?~

Gee, why didn't I think of that. Luckily, he couldn't receive a head slap over the phone for thinking something.  "I left two voice mails, guess I'll go see if the car's still in the parking lot."  Another pretty nurse, this one a blonde, approached with a bulky manila envelope.

"Excuse me, Agent DiNozzo?"

"Yes?"  Worried or not, DiNozzos always notice a beautiful woman.

"Our storage for patient's personal effects isn't really set up for weapons.  Since you're his partner, could you sign for Agent McGee's gun?"

Tony automatically took the envelope, feeling the familiar shape of the SIG Sauer inside.  "Where's Agent McGee?"

"He's already been taken up to surgery."

"What?"  Tony remembered that he was still on the phone.  "Boss?"

~I heard, Tony.  I'm on my way.~

All that was left for Tony to do was to wait and wonder exactly how McGee had been injured and just how in the hell he'd missed it.

---NCIS---

It was a tense drive to the hospital.  "You didn't notice anything about McGee?"

"No, Gibbs, I was focused on Tony.  McGee seemed to be favoring his wrist, but I did not think anything of it.  After all, he had just pulled Tony up and over the wall.  I did not think he was injured."

"That's the problem, Ziva, you didn't think."  Gibbs' shoulders sagged as he shook his head.  "Neither did I."

---NCIS---

"Any word yet?"

Tony stopped pacing when Gibbs and Ziva arrived.  "No, they won't tell me anything."

"They'll tell me."  Gibbs stormed off to get some answers.

"He gave no sign of something wrong?"  Shifting uncomfortably, Tony tried to answer Ziva's question.

"No, I mean I was still kinda bouncing off the walls, if you know what I mean, but I don't think I missed anything.  I must have, though, because it didn't take long for them to decide to operate.  What kind of friend am I if I didn't notice how bad he was hurt?"

Ziva didn't know what to say, but at least Gibbs' return meant that she didn't have to try.

"Boss, anything?"

Gibbs scrubbed at the sides of his head.  "They can't find his medical proxy forms, so they won't tell me anything.  I called Ducky, he's bringing copies."

"Damn it, can this day get any more screwed up?"  Frustrated, Tony resumed pacing as the guilt continued to eat at him.

---NCIS---

Knowing that he needed to make a copy instead of taking the original to the hospital, Ducky quickly used the copy machine before heading up one level to Abby's lab.  She was busily setting up soft music and aromatherapy in her office when he arrived.  "Abigail, my dear."

"Ducky, are they back yet?  Poor Tony, McGee better be taking good care of him."  She started pulling candles out of the bottom drawer of her desk.

"What is all this?"

"It's for Tony, of course, to help him relax.  What's up?"

Ducky sighed, knowing this was not going to be pleasant.  "It appears that Tony was not the only member of the team injured during the arrest."

"Gibbs?  Something happened to Gibbs?"  She started to panic and Ducky grabbed her arms to keep her still.

"Not Gibbs, it was McGee that was somehow injured.  Now I am on my way to Bethesda with copies of his medical records that they seem to have lost.  Do you wish to go with me?"  Not waiting for an answer, he steered her towards the door.

---NCIS---

As soon as Ducky and Abby arrived, Gibbs took Ducky with him to find some answer while Abby retreated to the waiting room to find answers of her own.  "Ziva, why didn't you tell me about McGee when you called about Tony?"

"I did not know he was injured, Abby.  He did not complain of any discomfort when he left to take Tony to be examined."

Spinning around, Abby glared at Tony.  "He drove?  He was hurt bad enough to need surgery and you made him drive you to the hospital?"

"I didn't know, okay?  I didn't know he was hurt." 

Abby saw her own fear reflected in Tony's eyes as his voice broke and she threw herself into his arms.  "I'm sorry, Tony, I'm sorry."

---NCIS---

"It's about time."  Gibbs stood as Ducky entered with another doctor behind him.

Knowing tempers were short, Ducky didn't waste any time.  "Jethro, this is Dr. Howell, he was Timothy's surgeon."

"What happened to him?"  By now the rest of the team was standing behind Gibbs.

"First, let me apologize about the mix-up with Agent McGee's paperwork.  We'll be looking into that."

Gibbs was losing patience quickly.  "My agent?"

"Agent McGee presented with a most unusual injury.  The strain and twisting caused one of the smaller bones in his wrist to slip out of place, necessitating a surgical stabilization of the dislocation.  The surgery was successful and we were able to repair the damage before any permanent loss of function could occur.  There's pins holding his wrist together while it heals, but we'll be able to remove those in about six weeks."

Unnoticed by the rest of the group, Tony paled as he heard what happened to his teammate.  His mind filled in the details as he remembered hanging off the edge of the parking garage, McGee's arm his only connection to safety. 

Dr. Howell continued, not knowing the devistation his words were causing.  "Depending on how successful his physical therapy is, Agent McGee could return to full field status within six months, possibly a bit sooner and, if we're lucky, he won't develop arthritis in that wrist.  He'll be in recovery for a few more hours, but you can see him for just a few minutes if you'd like.  I understand his usual nurse is with him."

"His usual nurse?"  Shocked, by the time Gibbs asked the question, Dr. Howell had already returned to his duties.

---NCIS---

"You back with me, Tim?" Smiling, she bent down and watched as green eyes came into focus.

"Greta?"

"Don't I always come take care of you when you're hurt?  You just rest, you're going to be fine."

"Where's my team, are they here yet?"

"Not yet.  You just rest for now, alright?"  As soon as he was asleep she stepped aside to pull a folded piece of paper out of her pocket.  She stared at the names on the medical proxy form before wadding it up and shoving it in the medical waste bin.  "Sorry, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I don't share.

She walked out to the nurse's station and tapped the charge nurse on the shoulder.  "Laura, Agent McGee has requested no visitors."

"All right, Greta, I'll make sure to pass the word.  Are you staying up here with him or are you going back downstairs?"

Greta smiled as she turned back to McGee's room.  "Taylor is covering my shift down in ER for me.  I don't want Tim to be totally alone tonight."   

Chapter Text

"What do you mean, we can't see him?"

Laura wasn't sure what to make of the group standing in front of her.  The older man with the blue eyes and the commanding presence looked ready to push past the nursing staff and she considered calling for security.  "I'm sorry, sir.  Agent McGee gave specific instructions that he wanted no visitors.  Perhaps tomorrow after he's had time to rest."

Gibbs glanced back at the group behind him, wishing he hadn't sent Ducky to look closer at McGee's medical records.  "I don't believe this.  What about his medical proxy, can that get me in to see him at least?"

"He's conscious and lucid, you can't override his wishes, sir."  She saw a moment of grief before the walls came up again.

"I guess we wait until morning.  Abby, you and Ziva ride back to the Yard with Ducky, I'll take DiNozzo home."

The group moved silently out of the recovery unit and back to the elevator, meeting Ducky in the hallway.  Abby had finally moved enough and stopped, causing the rest of the group to stop.

"Gibbs, we just can't leave him alone.  It's not right."

He kissed her cheek.  "This is what he wants, Abs, and right now we need to do what he needs." 

"But he needs us, Gibbs."  Her wail broke Tony's heart a little bit more and he pulled her into a hug.

"Apparently not, Abby.  I'm sorry."  Decision made, Tony waited until Ducky and the two women were in the elevator.  "Boss, I'm staying here."

"Tony, you heard the nurse.  For whatever reason, McGee doesn't want to see any of us tonight."

"I know."  Tony rubbed at his sore arms as he stared over Gibbs' shoulder.  "He got hurt saving my life.  He could have dropped me, hell he probably should have dropped me."

"Tony..."

Shaking his head, DiNozzo pressed on.  "But he didn't, he hung onto me and dragged me to safety.  Have you thought about it, Boss?  Have you thought about how much that had to hurt when my weight tore his wrist apart?  He never said a word, and then he drove a car with his arm like that because we expected him to."

Finally, Tony looked Gibbs directly in the eye.  "I need him to not be alone tonight, even if he never knows I was here.  If you take me home, I'll just get a cab and come back, so you might as well save me the cab fare and let me stay."

Gibbs exhaled sharply, puffing out his cheeks as he recognized a losing battle.  "Fine, I'll bring you coffee in the morning.  Call me..."

"...If anything happens.  Got it, Boss."

"Tony, this isn't your fault."

It took him a minute to answer.  "Feels like it is."

---NCIS---

"There, there, sweetheart.  It shouldn't last much longer."  Greta took away the emesis basin and washed the sweat off his face.  "Your body's having a hard time with the anesthesia, that's all."

"Where's Gibbs?"  Restlessly, Tim shifted around on the bed.  "He's supposed to be here."

"He didn't stay, Timmy.  None of them stayed."

Tim's breath hitched as he tried to look around before the drugs pulled him back under.  "They left?  Even Tony?"

The older woman started rubbing his forehead as his eyes drifted shut.  "Shh, you don't need any of them.  Greta's here and I'm going to take such good care of you that you won't miss them at all."  Once he was asleep again, she carefully picked up two of the vials off the table and slipped them into her pocket.  There was no point risking the discovery of the medications that weren't on his chart. 

---NCIS---

Tony made sure to stay out of sight until the shift change, taking enough time to eat something and buy a magazine.  Looking like one of many family members camped out in a waiting room, he settled in to watch the activity.  An hour later he was rewarded when a nurse came out of McGee's room and told the nurses at the desk that her patient was asleep and she was getting some coffee.  After some laughing and teasing, she agreed to bring back coffee from the shop in the lobby for all of them.  Two of the other nurses went back to their rounds, leaving only one at the desk.  Tony leaned forward, magazine still open in his hands, but his attention was on the activity at the nurse's station.  When an alarm sounded and the last nurse between him and McGee's room vanished, he made his move.  Casually, as to not draw attention, Tony tossed his magazine aside and stretched as he stood, carefully moving closer.  When he saw that the hallway was clear, he dashed into the room and closed the door behind him.

"McGee?"

When there was no answer, he moved closer, taking in his partner's appearance.  McGee's own scrapes and bruises were evident now, as bad as Tony's, but seemed insignificant compared to his wrist.  Unwrapped, so they could better monitor the swelling and pressure, the incisions looked raw and painful, made even worse by the metal pins jutting out of the skin.  A pillow kept the injury elevated while a folded sheet tucked tightly against his arm kept him from accidentally moving it in his sleep.  "Aw, crap, Tim."  He froze when McGee frowned and shifted in his sleep.

"T'ny, zat you?"

He talked fast, knowing he'd be kicked out as soon as he was discovered.  "I'm sorry, man.  I didn't want you to get hurt, especially to save me.  I'm not worth what this cost you."

"Why here?"

 "I know you don't want me here, but I just had to see you and make sure you're going to be all right.  I'll put in for a transfer in the morning, okay?"

"What?  Why?"  Confused and starting to panic, Tim struggled to sit up and Tony pressed him back onto the bed.

"Easy, easy, don't hurt yourself any more.  I know you're angry with me and I don't blame you, but when I'm gone, don't take it out on the rest of the team.  Please?"

Tim stilled under his hands.  "I don't understand, Tony.  Where's Gibbs?  Why didn't anybody come?  I asked and I asked and nobody came."

"What do you mean, you asked?"  The investigative side of Tony's brain kicked in, forcing his guilt to the side.  "Can you stay focused for a minute?  I need to ask you a question."

"Yeah."  Tim blinked, forcing his eyes open wider.  Any other time Tony would have found his expression amusing.

"Did you, at any time, request that no visitors be allowed into your room?"

"What?  No, why would I do that?"

"Gibbs isn't here because we were banned from your room, Probie.  It was either leave on our own or risk security throwing us all out.  The only reason I got in here is because I hid and had to sneak in when your nurse left for her break."

Tim could tell that this was probably the most serious he'd ever seen DiNozzo.  "I don't understand.  Greta promised, she said she called.  She kept saying that Gibbs was too busy and I thought... I thought."  He started shaking as the memories and nightmares flooded his mind.

Tony leaned close, trying to offer support without moving the injured man.  "What, Tim?  What did you think?"

"Thought I'd dreamed it, that I'd screwed up and didn't really save you.  Thought Gibbs blamed me, and that's why I was alone."

"You saved me, buddy, and we'll figure out the rest."  Tony flipped open his phone and hit the speed dial without even looking.  When the call connected, he didn't give the recipient a chance to say anything.  "Need you here, now."  He closed the phone and tossed it on the bed by McGee's legs.  Behind him he heard the door click open.

"What are you doing in here?"

Tony felt McGee's uninjured hand tighten around his arm and turned to face his accuser. 

Chapter Text

Gibbs was sitting at an all night coffee shop near the hospital when his phone rang and the terse, four word message had him instantly on his feet.  He'd heard his senior agent sarcastic, joking, rude, worried and joyful, but never quite so panicked.  He threw several bills on the table and took off running.

---NCIS---

Any day she got spend time with her Timmy was a good day and Greta was happy to treat the girls to coffee.  First she needed to drop the empty vials in her locker.  In the middle of the shift, the locker room was empty, so she was able to take her time.  Taped to the inside of the locker door was a picture of her son.  Tyler had been such a naughty child, always wanting to be independent and never appreciating the care his mother gave him.  Try as she might, she'd never been able to make him understand.  Right up to his death, he'd wanted to get away from her.  She'd thought the loneliness would destroy her, but then she'd found Tim.  Since she was alone, she was able to lift Tyler's picture and see the picture underneath.  The image wasn't very good since she'd had to use her camera phone but it was still a wonderful picture of her new boy dozing in a hospital bed, his leg bandaged.  Needing to get the coffee and get back, she let Tyler's picture fall back down, not noticing when one edge caught, causing it to twist slightly.

---NCIS---

Ducky leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his face.  "Heavens, Timothy, how did I miss this in your file?"

"Did you say something, Dr. Mallard?"  Jimmy paused in his cleaning when he heard a voice from the private office.

"Just talking to myself, Mr. Palmer."  Ducky paused before clicking on the research site he'd located.  "It's been a rather eventful day, why don't you go on home.  You can finish that in the morning."

"I don't mind staying."

Ducky looked over his shoulder at Jimmy who was now in the doorway.  "Go home, Mr. Palmer.  I will see you in the morning."  Once he was alone, Ducky started reading.

---NCIS---

Greta set the tray down on the desk at the nurse's station before lifting her own cup out of its holder.  She hadn't been much of a coffee drinker until she started taking care of Tim, but she'd quickly learned to tolerate the bitter brew as it gave them something to share.  He was so much like Tyler and didn't understand how much he needed her, but with any luck she could get him discharged and home where she could take care of him properly.

She was half way through the door before she realized what she was seeing.  One of those awful agents had forced his way into Tim's room and was undoing all of her hard work.  "What are you doing in here?"

He turned and glared at her.  "Better question – why did you lie to us?  Tim never said he didn't want visitors."

Tim's uninjured hand was clinging to DiNozzo's arm and Greta knew she had to act fast.  "Tim, you're confused, sweetheart.  Don't you remember?  These are the people that never take care of you, that make you drive yourself to the hospital.  Why is he here now, when he never cared before?"

"I don't understand."  Tim's eyes flickered between the two people fighting over him. 

Tony bent closer, suddenly suspicious about the level of his partner's confusion.  "Tim, we didn't know you were hurt.  Remember, Gibbs isn't here because we were banned from your room.  We never would have willingly let you go through this alone."

"Really?"

"I must insist that you leave at once, Mr. DiNozzo."  Her voice was becoming shrill and attracting attention from the rest of the staff.

"Guess what, you don't speak for Tim and just how in the heck do you know who I am, lady?"

"That's a pretty good question.  I'd like the answer to that myself."  The two upright occupants of the room turned to see Gibbs standing there with Dr. Howell.  Gibbs stared at the woman that was upsetting his men.  "Start talking."

Greta turned her attention to the man next to Gibbs, hoping to plead her case.  "Dr. Howell, I'm just trying to protect my patient.  He said that he didn't want any visitors; I was just following his request."

"Is that true, Agent McGee?  Did you ask Nurse Rollins to keep your friends away from you?"  He came into the room to examine his patient.

"No, I don't think I did."  Exhausted and confused, Tim turned back to Tony for support and confirmation.  "Gibbs isn't mad at me, is he?"

Tony looked over at their stunned team leader before answering McGee.  "He's here, why don't you ask him yourself?"

"Gibbs is here?  He came back?  For me?"

Jethro Gibbs may not have understood exactly how they got in this situation, but he did understand that his agent needed him.  Nodding at Tony, he pushed past the nurse and bent over McGee, touching the side of his face to help keep his focus.  "I'm right here, McGee and I'm not mad at you.  I'm just worried  about why you didn't tell us you were hurt."

Exhaustion and the drugs in his system were pulling McGee back under, and the thumb stroking his forehead wasn't helping.  "Didn't know... fingers were tingling, but didn't hurt.  Never hurts."

The mumbled comments bothered Gibbs, but he had more pressing concerns as he turned back to Dr. Howell.  "I want that woman removed from my man's care immediately."

"He can't do that, Timmy needs me."

"If he can't, then I certainly can."  The new voice stopped Greta in her tracks.

"Sir, please..."

"As Chief of Staff, I am suspending you pending a full investigation.  Your obsession with this patient has been discussed in my office several times, but this is the last straw, Nurse  Rollins.  These two corpsmen will escort you to the locker room to retrieve your personal belongings and then off the hospital grounds.  I will expect you in my office at 0900 to fully explain your actions.  Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir."  Greta backed down, having no other option as her two escorts entered the room.  She knew she would have to explain anything she took with her, so her only chance was to only take just her purse and hope they didn't notice what else was in her locker.

After she was gone, Gibbs turned to the hospital administrator, but the other man just held up his hand.  "My office, 0700, and I'll explain everything we know and what we suspect.  For tonight, just concentrate on your man, Agent Gibbs."

---NCIS---

With the two of them watching over the injured man, Gibbs knew he would be safe, but the restlessness and nightmares he witnessed bothered him on a visceral level as McGee seemed confused and surprised that he was not alone.  The vague answers he received from the remaining medical staff didn't help his mood either.  When a technician rushed in to take a blood sample, Gibbs decided he'd had enough and followed her out the door to find Dr. Howell hovering in the hallway.

"What the hell is going on?"

Howell pointed him to the staff lounge, but Gibbs shook his head.  "Something's going on and I'm not getting that far away from him."

Knowing he wasn't going to move the man, Dr. Howell leaned closer.  "They found some empty drug vials in her locker."

"You think she drugged him?"

"It's a possibility.  Hopefully the blood tests will tell us for sure.  It would explain his confusion and heightened emotional state."

Gibbs was getting angrier the more he heard.  "A hallucinogenic?"

"We'll know more after the tests are run."

It was a non-answer, since they obviously knew what was in the vials to begin with, but Gibbs decided to focus on McGee tonight and let Director Shepard help him bash heads in the morning.  He returned to the room just as McGee was waking from another nightmare.

"Gibbs, where's Gibbs?"

"I'm here, Tim."  Gibbs stepped close to the bed and grasped the reaching hand.  "You're safe, son and you're not alone."

When he settled again, Tony gave Gibbs a hard look.  "There's more going on, isn't there?"

"Yeah, Tony."  Tired of bending over the bedrail, Gibbs lowered it and sat on the bed.  "A whole lot more."

Chapter Text

At 0640 the next morning, Ziva arrived along with Jenny Shepard who looked rather annoyed.  "I realize that McGee is one of my agents, Jethro, but explain to me why I had to cancel a meeting with the SecNav to talk to his doctor?"

"I'm here to talk to his doctor.  You're here to keep me from punching a Rear Admiral."  Ignoring her after his cryptic remark, Gibbs turned his attention to McGee.  He hated to wake the sleeping man, but after his confusion the night before he wanted McGee to know where he was and why he was leaving the room.  "McGee?"  He tapped him on the side of the face.  "McGee, need you to wake up."

Green eyes slowly opened, then cleared.  "Boss, did we get a call-out?"

Gibbs bit back a snort.  "No, McGee, you're in the hospital, remember?"  He turned serious as he watched his young agent.  "Do you remember what happened last night?"

It took a few minutes for the fog to clear.  "Greta, she lied to me.  Why would she do that?"

"I don't know, McGee, but I'm going upstairs to talk to the Chief of Staff about her and then you and I are going to have a long talk, alright?"  He brushed his hand across Tim's head.  "Starting with why you didn't tell any of us that you were hurt yesterday.  Now, Tony is still here and Ziva just got here, so will you be all right until I get back?"

"Sure, Boss."  McGee looked around and spotted Tony sleeping in a chair.  "Ouch, he shouldn't have stayed."

"Yeah, well, get used to it.  As badly as you scared him last night, your grandchildren will be wondering why he's always hanging around."  Gibbs patted Tim's knee as he stood.  "On my way out I'll find out why none of the nurses have brought you any pain meds."

"It's okay, Boss, I'm fine."

"You had emergency surgery last night, McGee.  Stop being so damn stoic, you're allowed to admit it if you're in pain."  Not waiting for an answer, Gibbs was out the door, Jenny jogging to keep up.

Once they were gone, Ziva dropped her backpack and moved closer to lay her hand on McGee's shoulder.  "You scared all of us last night, McGee."

"I'm sorry, Ziva."  She didn't want apologies, she wanted explanations, but he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, ending the discussion.

---NCIS---

Ducky joined them at 0700 exactly, but it wasn't until almost 0730 that they were shown into Rear Admiral Oliver's office.

"Nice of you to squeeze us in."

Jenny didn't appreciate the sarcasm and reached in front of Gibbs to shake Dr. Oliver's hand.  "We appreciate you taking the time to attend to this matter personally, whatever it is."

He waved them over to a conference table where Dr. Howell was waiting for them.  "As Chief of Staff, I rarely get involved with the interactions of our staff with the patients on a personal level, but our nursing supervisor felt this was an unusual situation and brought it to my attention a few weeks ago."

Gibbs never bothered to sit down, just leaned against the edge of the table to loom over the hospital staff.  "You're saying you knew about this for weeks, yet you still allowed this woman to appoint herself McGee's private nurse?

"When you refer to the situation as unusual, exactly what do you mean?"  Jenny was rapidly understanding why her old partner needed her there as she laid a hand on his fist.  "Are you suggesting that she has a sexual interest in my agent?"

"No."  Oliver gave a short laugh which didn't help Gibbs' mood.  "That would be much easier because we have specific policies in place regarding that."

"And?"  Jenny was beginning to wonder who was going to keep her in line if they didn't get some answers soon.

Rear Admiral Oliver instead turned to Ducky as Gibbs finally sat down.  "I assume, by now, that you've reviewed Agent McGee's medical file in depth?"

"Yes, and I must say I'm rather disturbed by what I read.  But mostly what I'm most upset about is the fact that no recent injuries are listed in agency medical records.  Under the circumstances, I suspect that is not totally accurate."

"Yes, well, unfortunately I'm not authorized to give you those records without Agent McGee's permission."
 
Frustrated, Gibbs broke in. "What?  Are you saying that she's been abusing him somehow?"

"No, at least not directly."  The two Naval doctors exchanged a look before Oliver started explaining.  "I can't tell you details, but I can tell you that Agent McGee's first time back at this hospital after he became a field agent was also Greta Rollins' first day back from bereavement leave after the death of her son.  Agent McGee was injured and alone and she took him in under her wing.  Frankly, he needed somebody to look after him and she needed somebody to mother.  It was a coincidence a few weeks later when he came in, injured again, on her shift, but after that most of the nurses knew to call Nurse Rollins whenever Agent McGee needed treatment."

Gibbs was frozen in shock, wondering how he'd missed McGee being injured, so Jenny asked the next question.  "What changed to make the nursing supervisor concerned?

"She started slipping up, called Agent McGee by her son's name a few times.  Then she told one of the aides that she was tired of worrying about him and that she was going to make him quit his job and move back home so that she could take care of him full time like she used to."

"Like she used to?"  Gibbs had shaken off enough of his shock to concentrate on McGee's safety for now.  "What does that mean?"

Dr. Howell shook his head.  "Greta's son was handicapped and very ill most of his life.  She was very upset when he became a legal adult and chose to live in a care facility instead of at home with her.  Apparently she was right to worry, because he took his own life about three months after he moved away from home."

Gibbs felt his gut chime in at that news.

---NCIS---

Tony was pacing, trying to get his muscles to loosen up when McGee's breakfast tray arrived so he retreated back to the bed to wake his teammate as Ziva looked on in amusement.  "Wakey, wakey, McGee, your breakfast is here."

It was only the quick action of Ziva that prevented McGee from reaching up with his injured arm, forcing him to use his other hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes.  "Umm, morning, guys.  Is it Friday?"

The aide raised the bed upright enough so that McGee could comfortably sit up and eat before she transferred the tray to the bedside table and Ziva moved it close before sitting back on the edge of the bed.  "It is Friday.  Why do you ask?"

He was still a little glassy-eyed, but seemed less confused.  "If it's Friday, that means French Toast."  Sure enough, when Ziva lifted the lid, a large pile of French Toast and bacon was on the plate.  "Greta knows it's my favorite and always orders me a double serving."

"Always?"  There was a strange tone to Tony's voice, reminding Tim that things were not right.

"She did something really wrong yesterday, didn't she?"

"Yeah, Buddy."  Tony sat on the bed, opposite from Ziva.  "She lied to you and she lied to the other nurses.  Do you remember us talking about it last night?" 

McGee watched as Ziva sliced the bread into bite sized pieces and poured the syrup over them.  "Sort of, it's all pretty blurry."  He shrugged and picked up the fork with his uninjured, right hand.  "I'm sorry."

Tony had a lot of things he wanted to say, but someone from housekeeping came in.  He watched out of the corner of his eye as she opened the wall receptacle and pulled out the red plastic bag that held medical waste.  The plastic was translucent and Tony noticed something in the bag that didn't look like a discarded piece of gauze.  "Wait a second, open that up please."

When he showed his badge, she rolled the plastic down far enough to display the contents and Ziva quickly slipped on a pair of gloves from her bag.  Shifting the bag around she was able to retrieve a wadded up sheet of paper. 

Tony leaned over her shoulder as she spread it open enough to reveal the printing, instantly recognizing the missing page that had caused so much trouble the previous night.  Muttering words that he knew would make Tim blush, he pulled out his phone.

---NCIS---

"I'm asking again, if you had all these suspicions, why did you let her near my agent?"  Gibbs leaned forward, determined to get answers.

"The report has been working its way though channels.  We weren't expecting him back in our care quite this quickly."

"I'll be sure to let the terrorists know that next time they need to wait for your paperwork to go through channels.  Now, what exactly has she been doing to him?  What did the blood tests show?"

"Blood tests?"  Jenny looked over at Ducky who also seemed surprised.

It was obvious that Dr. Howell wasn't happy with what he had to tell them.  "We found several empty drug vials in her locker.  The blood tests confirmed it, she was, umm, drugging him."  He slid a print-out across the table to Ducky who began to study it closely. 

Gibbs wasn't willing to wait.  "What, exactly, did she do to him?"

"It's the combination that is troubling."

"And?"

Ducky had a question of his own.  "How on earth did she get her hands on these medications?"

Dr. Howell turned the floor back over to the hospital's Chief of Staff.  Dr. Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose before he laid out how big the problem really was.  "Up until last night, we thought it was a clerical error.  Six months ago we ordered five cases each of two different medications for our psychiatric unit, but only four cases of each were checked in."

Gibbs reached over and thumped the page Ducky was looking at.  "These medications?  You lost two cases of dangerous drugs and you didn't launch an investigation?" 

Director Shepard was tired of waiting for either of the hospital's doctors to tell them what they wanted to know.  "Ducky, what would these do to someone?"  One look at his face and she could tell they were not going to like the answer.

"These two medications are designed for patients who are suffering from either severe psychosis or a paranoid rage.  To be given to a patient with normal brain chemistry, well, it just isn't done, Director Shepard.  If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that it would make a patient easily influenced." 

"As in brainwashing?" 

"I'm not sure I would go that far, Jethro.  Drugs of a similar nature have been used in attempts to brainwash, but these two drugs on their own would not make him believe something totally against his nature."

Gibbs thought back to McGee's reactions to Tony and later, to him.  "If he was feeling unsure of his place on the team and she was shooting him full of that stuff and telling him that we didn't care about him?

"Oh, my."  Ducky pulled off his glasses to clean them on his shirt.  "Under those circumstances, we could have a serious problem, I'm afraid.  We'd need to run a test on his hair to determine how long he's been exposed and at what concentrations."

Gibbs' phone rang and he turned away to answer it while Jenny gave Dr. Oliver a hard look.  "I don't have to tell you what a breech of protocol it was when you did not report those missing drugs.  What else is missing from your inventory?"

"Director Shepard, I assure you we are looking into the matter.  Unfortunately, the new computer interface was not fully compatible with the older system and there were some glitches.  We're doing a manual inventory count, but it'll take time."

"When I have to inform the SecNav that one of our agents, with access to the most sensitive information within the agency, was drugged in an apparent attempt to brainwash him by a member of your staff, I'll be sure to mention that you haven't had the time to determine what other drugs she stole."

Dr. Howell shook his head.  "I can't believe she'd go that far."

Gibbs returned to the table even angrier.  "Ya might want to rethink that.  The hard copy of McGee's medical proxy turned up in a bag of medical waste.  What do want to bet we'll find her fingerprints all over it?"

Jenny glanced at her watch, it was already 0910.  "I think it's about time we hear what this woman has to say for herself, gentlemen."

When summoned, Dr. Oliver's assistant informed them that Nurse Rollins had not shown up yet.  By 0915 it was discovered that her phone was turned off.  By 0945, the two agents sent by Director Shepard reported back that the Rollins apartment was deserted, the closets empty.  By 1000, it was official, Greta Rollins had vanished.
   

Chapter Text

Furious at the medical staff that let Greta slip away, Gibbs stormed into McGee's hospital room and started pacing as he tried to calm down.  Ducky was angry also, but for slightly different reasons.  He sat on the edge of Tim's bed, waiting for Gibbs to calm down enough to start talking. 

Even Jenny seemed perturbed as she turned her attention to Tony and Ziva.  "We don't know when Agent McGee will be released from the hospital, but his situation will be your team's top priority.  He will need round the clock security for the foreseeable future."

Her voice disturbed McGee and he shifted on the bed.  Ducky laid a hand on the younger man's head.  "Hush, Timothy, just rest."  Once McGee was once again asleep, Ducky yanked several hairs out of his head and dropped them into an envelope.  "Ziva, when you return to the Yard with the Director, give these to Abby, she will need to run a tox screen to see how long he's been exposed."

"Exposed?  Exposed to what?"  Tony looked back and forth between them  "What's going on, Boss?"

Gibbs jerked his head and they followed him to a corner of the room.  "The nurse from last night has disappeared and it looks like she'd obsessed with him."

"Well, yeah, we figured that out last night."

"We didn't even scratch the surface last night, DiNozzo.  She's been using stolen psychiatric drugs on him to make him more pliable."

"Brainwashing, Gibbs?  Does this woman have a connection to any known terrorist group?"

Tony disagreed with Ziva.  "No, her obsession is more personal."

"Looks that way, Tony.   Ziva, go back to the Yard and start doing a background check on her and her son.  Go back as far as you can and see if you can figure out where she'd go to hide." 

"Her son?"

"They think his death is what triggered her obsession with McGee."

"What about me, Boss?"

Gibbs looked over at his senior agent, knowing he had to make it an order to be obeyed.  "Tony, you go to Abby's office and get a few hours sleep on her futon before you start helping Ziva."

He immediately objected.  "I'm fine, ready to work."

"Tony," Gibbs shook his head.  "Chances are, this isn't going to be quick or easy and you haven't even been home since you fell.  I need you to get some rest now so you can help guard McGee tonight."

"Yeah, okay."  He might not like it, but he understood the reasons behind it.  "Boss, what's going on with McGee, though?  What's with all these injuries he hid from us?"

"Next thing on my list, DiNozzo.  Now get going."

They woke McGee and made sure he understood they had to go back to work, but would see him soon.  It wasn't until they were in the elevator that Tony remembered what he'd seen.  "How could Probie sleep through Ducky pulling his hair out like that?"  Neither Ziva nor Jenny had an answer.

---NCIS---

"Abigail, I will explain the rest to you when I return to the Yard, I promise.  Yes, I will be there soon."  Ducky closed his phone and returned his attention back to McGee as Gibbs explained what Greta Rollins had been doing to him.

"I don't understand, Boss.  Why would she do those things?  I thought she was..."

When McGee's voice trailed off, Gibbs finished with his own questions.  "Somebody you could depend on when you were hurt?  Why can't you depend on your team, Tim?  Why don't you trust us?"

"It's not a matter of trust, I do trust you guys."  Tim rubbed at his forehead, not looking up, and remembering at the last minute to use his right hand.  "I didn't lie to anyone and it's in my medical records."

"Oh, yes, Timothy."  Ducky crossed his arms and glared down at his patient.  "Very neatly tucked in between your allergies to ragweed and to cat dander.  That was very clever, young man."

"I just wanted a chance, Ducky.  A chance to be treated like a normal person.  A chance to prove I could do the job, to live outside the glass box my mother kept me in."

Ducky visibly deflated.  "Believe it or not, I do understand.  So will your team if you just let them in."

"McGee?"  The younger man didn't look up, but Gibbs could tell he was listening closely.  "Whatever is wrong, this woman is using it to gain control of you.  I'm not going to go behind your back and look at your medical files, but I expect you to be honest and tell me, yourself."  He waited, watching, as McGee obviously worked his way up to something.

He still hadn't looked up.  "I have a variation of a subset of a genetic disorder." 

"A variation of a subset of a disorder?  Sounds pretty rare, McGee."

A shrug, but still no eye contact.  "It's called  Hereditary Sensory and Autonomic Neuropathy.  There are five different types and I have a variation of number five, so the full name of my condition is Hereditary Sensory and Autonomic Neuropathy, Type V Congenital Insensitivity to Pain, with Specified Anomalies."

Gibbs wasn't sure what to say at first.  "That's quite a mouthful, McGee."

"Yeah."  Tim was playing with a thread from the blanket.  "The short version is HSAN-V."

Ducky was strangely quiet, so Gibbs tried to figure out what he could from the name of the condition.  "Okay, when you say an insensitivity to pain, does that mean that it hurts less than for the general population."  He looked up at Ducky.  "Help me out, Duck."

"Agent McGee does not feel pain at all, isn't that right, Timothy?"

"Actually, that's not totally correct, Ducky."  Tim finally looked up, slightly embarrassed at having to correct the doctor. 

"Because it's a variation?  I must admit I've not found any information regarding that."

"Yeah, there's only two or three of us in the world that are like this, but I have some spots that have normal nerve endings and I can actually feel something major enough to cause internal damage."

Gibbs was trying to put it all together. "So, if you got shot, you'd feel it?"

"It depends, umm, a graze or flesh wound..."

There was something in McGee's reaction that set off the infamous gut, but the arrival of Dr. Howell and several nurses put a halt to the conversation and forced them to wait outside.  Gibbs needed coffee and they went down to the cafeteria before returning to the waiting room.

"Duck, how serious is this and why would it cause him all these trips to the hospital?"

"How does one know when they are injured, Jethro?"

"It hurts, I get that."  Gibbs wasn't in the mood for what he considered obvious. 

Ducky decided to change tactics.  "You've heard the old joke about the man that told his doctor it hurts when I do this."

"Yeah, yeah, and the doctor says don't do that."  Gibbs stilled before turning to him and Ducky knew that he finally was starting to understand.  "He doesn't know when something is hurting him."

"Precisely.  Do you remember Timothy's rather nasty bout with poison ivy?"

"Yeah."  At the time he'd been proud of McGee for working through the discomfort.  Now he was looking at it in a whole new light.  "Ducky, be honest with me.  Is it safe for him to be out in the field?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, Jethro.  You and he need to work out what are acceptable risks and what sort of procedure he needs to follow.  Just remember one thing."

"What's that?"

"His fear of being taken off the team has led to most of these problems he's facing now.  If you ground him now, it's a punishment for finally being honest about his condition."

"Damn it."

Ducky stood and patted Gibbs on the back.  "Yes, well, at least his wrist injury will keep him out of the field long enough for you to get used to this."

"Not sure I ever will, Ducky."

---NCIS---

"Guys, what is going on?  This is seriously hinky.  Why is this woman after McGee?"

"I don't know, Abs."  Tony let her hang onto him for a few minutes.  "What I'm more worried about is what's wrong with McGee.  He's been in and out of the hospital for years and we never knew about any of it."

Ziva was at a loss.  "Tony, you were at the hospital all night, did you hear anything?

He thought about it, shaking his head  "The only weird thing was that they never gave him any pain meds, never even offered them."

"Maybe he was getting them in an IV, or maybe they put in a nerve block.  Could he move his arm?"

"Yes, he could."  Ziva's words came slow as she remembered.  "In fact he was catching himself using his arm when he wasn't supposed to."

"Umm, Guys, I might have an answer."  They all turned at the sound of Jimmy's voice.  "Dr. Mallard was reading a hospital file last night when he told me to go home."

"Probie's file?"

"I don't know for sure, but he spent a lot of time last night researching on the computer."

"So, what was he looking at?"  When Jimmy hesitated, Ziva stepped closer and he rushed to finish.  "When I got in this morning, his computer was still running and it was on the home page for a neurological study."

"I could check his search history, that should tell me something."

"No, Abs."  Suddenly tired, DiNozzo shook his head.  "That would be the same as breaking into his medical records.  We'll know when McGee wants us to know.  We owe him that much."

---NCIS---

Gibbs and Ducky arrived back just as Dr. Howell was leaving McGee's room.  "Well, doc, how's he doing?"

Dr. Howell waited for the nurse to continue down the hall.  "He doing quite well, Agent Gibbs.  We'll monitor him the rest of the day and possibly overnight, then release him."

"Are you monitoring the drugs in his system or his wrist, Dr. Howell?"  Ducky stared at the other man closely, not sure if his priority was McGee or the hospital's reputation.

I do have a consultation this afternoon with one of our staff psychologists to discuss the medication issues.  We've never dealt with a non-psychotic patient being given these drugs, so we're not sure what level of withdrawal symptoms he will have."

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better."

Gibbs' reaction made Howell wince, but he pressed on.  "Agent McGee has told me that you are now aware of his underlying medical condition.  Because of his HSAN-V, we need to be more cautious.  Complications such as internal swelling, a shifting of the pins or an infection are usually felt first by the patient as pain..."

"But he can't feel pain."  Gibbs started pacing as he rubbed his forehead.  "I can't believe this is happening."  Determined to get some answers, Gibbs strode towards McGee's hospital room.

"Jethro, wait."  Ducky stepped in front of the door, stopping the other man.  "He's not one of your suspects, he's a member of your team."

"Yeah, and if he hoped to stay that way, he needs to come clean right now."

"Agreed, but remember that he is still heavily under the influence of the drugs he's been given.  You need to remain calm with him."

"Oh, I'm very, very calm, Dr. Mallard."  Gibbs stepped around Ducky and into the room while Ducky shook his head.

"That's what I'm afraid of Jethro."

Chapter Text

"The warrant for Greta Rollins' locker has come through."  Ziva arrived in the lab just as Tony was hanging up his phone.

Really wanting to hit something, Tony didn't look away from the phone as he brought them up to date.  "At least that's one piece of good news.  We can probably forget about tracking her credit cards.  She was at the bank when they opened this morning, withdrew everything, including what she could pull out of her retirement fund, all in cash.  She's off the grid."

"How much money are we talking about?"

"A little more than eighty-five grand, Ziva."  Behind them, Abby paled, but stayed silent.

"Gibbs needs to be told."  Ziva glanced down at the search warrant in her hand.  "We should both go, and then one of us stay to help guard McGee.  With that much money at her disposal, she is much more dangerous than we believed."

"Can I come, too?"  They both turned to look at Abby, who was chewing nervously on her lip.  "The tests are going to take a couple more hours to run and..."

"And you haven't seen McGee yet."  Tony held an arm out for her.  "Sure, Abs, come one."

---NCIS---

The impression he hoped to make with his entrance was wasted when the room's occupant slept through the opening of the door.  Behind Gibbs, Ducky watched as the other man's shoulders slumped.

"Are you going to wake him, Jethro?"

Ducky's voice was quiet, but Gibbs wouldn't even risk that and just shook his head as he sat in one of the chairs.  Instead he studied the young man that served so faithfully under him, realizing how little he knew about him.  Thinking back, he remembered McGee's bout with poison ivy.  He'd been surprised and impressed at the time when McGee kept working through what should have been extreme discomfort at the least.  Now he wondered just what had been felt and how McGee even knew he had a problem.  He tried to remember cases where McGee could have possibly been hurt, but before he could get far, the door opened and the rest of the team traipsed in.

Tony looked over first to check on his friend, but when he saw that Tim was asleep, he turned his attention to Gibbs.  "Need to talk."

Gibbs nodded as he stood before leading them out of the room.  Abby was torn, but followed them, leaving only Ducky with their sleeping teammate.  The closing door was enough to wake McGee and Ducky moved close enough to watch blurry green eyes as they opened.

"That you, Ducky?"

"Yes, it is, McGee."  Arms crossed over his chest, Dr. Mallard stared down at the figure on the bed.  He hadn't told Gibbs that he'd run across this condition before, but he certainly hadn't forgotten about it either.  There was a dark side to not feeling pain, a side he'd hoped to never see again, a side he refused to even think about when Gibbs was in the room.

The Gibbs glare was one thing, but this was totally different and Tim shifted around uncomfortably.  "Are you mad at me, Ducky?

"Do you have any idea, young man, of the gravity of this situation?  Tell me, did you also lie on your application to be an agent?  What about during your psych evaluation?"

"What?  My psych evaluation?  What does that have to do with anything?"  Tim fumbled around and found the bed controls, elevating the head to let him sit up and face Ducky.  "I'm still me, Ducky.  This doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?  The ability to feel pain is a major factor in developing empathy and compassion in children.  Now, I have not said anything to Jethro yet, but this new information, this information that you deliberately hid from us, forces me to reevaluate whether or not you are even suitable as an agent."  Even as he said it, Ducky knew his anger was misplaced and many, many years too late.

Tim stared at the pins in his wrist as he blinked back tears.  "What do you want me to do, Dr. Mallard?"

The sudden formality caught Ducky off-guard and he forced himself to calm down.  "When Jethro begins to ask about other times you have been injured, and I guarantee you he will be asking, I want you to be totally and completely honest with him."

That made McGee look up.  "I've never lied about any of this."

"A lie of omission is still a lie, Timothy.  Consider that your first lesson in normal human behavior."

---NCIS---

"Well?"  Gibbs hadn't slowed down until they were back in the waiting room.  "Have you located her?"

Tony knew this wasn't going to be pretty.  "She was at her bank when it opened, cleared out all of her accounts, Boss."

"How much?"

"Eighty five grand, give or take.  She's off the grid."

Breathing hard, Gibbs started to pace, not having anything to hit.  "What in the hell is she up to?  Have you found out anything yet?"

"Not yet.  Abby's got tests running on his hair and on the vials and the search warrant came through, so..."

"Since when does it take two agents and a forensic scientist to serve a warrant on a locker?"

"Has he been awake at all, Gibbs?"  Abby's question stopped him cold as he remembered that she hadn't seen McGee at all.

"Short visit, Abs, then everybody gets back to work."  Knowing what was coming, Gibbs braced himself just in time before the full-body hug slammed into him.

---NCIS---

The beat up old sedan probably wasn't worth the seven hundred dollars she spent on it, but the sight of those crisp hundred dollar bills were enough of a distraction that the owner didn't look twice at her or ask for any identification.  She tossed the undated bill of sale into the glove box before randomly picking a town on the map.  The next stop in her transformation would be Front Royal, Virginia.  Seventy miles due west of Washington DC, it was far enough away to not be under the radar of those looking for her and, large enough for one new person to quietly blend in.

---NCIS---

"Everything all right in here?"  Gibbs picked up on the tension as soon as he returned to McGee's hospital room.  Abby's boisterous greeting was enough of a distraction that the rest of the arriving group didn't notice the strained atmosphere.

McGee didn't look up as Abby hugged him.  "Sure, Boss."

"Of course, Jethro."  Ducky was still staring at the patient.  "Agent McGee and I were just discussing the need for total honesty in regards to his medical condition in order to regain our trust."

That caught Gibbs' notice and he gave Ducky a hard look before squeezing McGee's foot to get his attention.  "You hasn't lost our trust, McGee, but I want to know about every injury you've hidden and why."

"It wasn't that I was trying to hide it, Boss."

"Yeah, I know, you couldn't feel it, but..."

"Wait a minute."  Tony stared at the two men.  "What do you mean, you can't feel it?"

Tim finally looked up, first at Ducky, then at Gibbs, before turning to the rest of the team.  Sensing the seriousness of what was about to be said, Tony, Ziva and Abby moved closer to the bed.  "I have a medical condition.  It's genetic and it called Type V Congenital Insensitivity to Pain, a subset of Hereditary Sensory and Autonomic Neuropathy, with Specified Anomalies. It means that most of my skin never developed pain receptors."

"Wow, really?"  Shocked, Tony sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Tim.  Knowing the guilt and stress the last twenty-four hours had put the senior agent through, Gibbs let him take the lead for the moment.    "So, you really didn't feel anything when your wrist dislocated?"

Shrugging, McGee picked at some lint on the blanket, remembering to use his uninjured hand.  "I felt a weird grinding and pulling, then a lot of pressure inside my wrist.  A couple of my fingers went numb pretty quick and by the time we got to the hospital most of my hand was numb."

"Why didn't you say something, McGee?"

"Nothing personal, Tony, but you were pretty shaky yesterday and really bouncing off the walls.  Even one-handed, I felt safer being the one driving."

Ziva glared at both of them.  "I could have driven you both."

Smirking for the first time since his secret had been discovered, Tim was still looking at Tony.  "Like I said..."

"We were safer with you driving."  Grinning back, Tony finished for him, while Ziva realized what they were saying.

"My driving is not that bad."  She looked around, but no one would look her in the eye.

---NCIS---

At a rest stop just outside of the DC area, an older sedan parked near the garbage cans before the driver walked back to the rest rooms, her coat hood covering her head and shielding her face.  Alone inside, she quickly unpinned the bun that had been her signature look for the last fifteen years.  Unwound, the dull gray hair went half way down her back for only a moment before she quickly cut it short and shoved the removed locks into a plastic bag.  With the hood back up, she returned to the car and filled the plastic grocery bag with trash from the car before tying it shut and tossing it in one of the garbage cans.  That one bag quickly became anonymous alongside the dozens of other bags of old fast food wrappers and used diapers that filled the can every day.  Within ten minutes the sedan was back on the road, having drawn no attention during the short stop, just as a garbage truck pulled in to empty the cans.

---NCIS---

The teasing of Ziva lightened the mood somewhat, but Gibbs needed more answers.  "You met Nurse Rollins after becoming a field agent.  When was that, exactly, McGee?"

"The Watson case."  Tim almost seemed to shrink in on himself, waiting for the reaction.

"Your first case?  The case that made you a field agent?"

"Yes, sir."

Gibbs didn't even notice the return of the 'sir' as he started to pace, Ziva and Abby backing up, out of his way.  "You didn't even make it one day without an injury you felt you had to hide?  What exactly happened, McGee?"

"Kate and I searched the house and... umm... when we were finished, she told me to lock the front door behind her and to go out through second floor window."

Gibbs froze as he realized what probably happened.  "You fell out of the window?"

"No, but I slipped and sliced the back of my leg on the gutter."

Fingers tightened on the foot of the bed as Gibbs started to understand the potential problems.  "How long did it take before you knew you were hurt?"

"By the time I got to the car, the back of my leg was wet, I was pretty sure it was blood.  Kate..."

"Kate what?"  Gibbs thought about the first woman to die under his command.  She'd been so determined to prove herself in a field dominated by men that she tended to jump on any perceived weakness in others.  "Did you tell her?"

"Tried to, she just told me that we had a kidnapping to solve and to suck it up.  If I ever wanted to be a field agent, I couldn't whine over every scratch."

"Damn it."

Tim rushed to defend his friend.  "I mean, I wasn't limping and I obviously wasn't in pain.  I, umm, I crossed my ankles on the ride back and that pressed my shin against the back of my other leg.  The pressure seemed to stop the bleeding."

"And when you got to the Yard, you just went back to work."

"Well, yeah."

"And it never occurred to you to have Ducky check your leg?"

"The case was really heating up and I didn't seem to be bleeding anymore.  I knew it wasn't deep enough to cause any muscle damage because it wasn't affecting my ability to walk and after I started working on the computer..."

"You forgot about it."

"Pretty much."  Tim shrugged as he confessed the rest.  "Then, when we solved the case and figured out it was the husband, and you told me that I was on the team..."

"Why didn't you tell me then, Tim?"

"My paperwork was still on your desk, Boss.  If it really was just a scratch and I complained about it..."  When his voice trailed off, Gibbs waited, sensing this was the crux of the problem.  Eventually, the soft voice resumed.  "I guess I was afraid you'd think I wasn't worth the bother."

Angry at the situation, Gibbs forced himself to sound calm.  "So, instead, you went to the emergency room at Bethesda."

"Actually, I went to the walk-in clinic, they sent me to the emergency room to properly clean it and for stitches."

"Stitches?  Just how many stitches are we talking about, Probie?"  Tony didn't squeak, but it was a close thing.

"Five."

Tony stared at him in shock.  "Five stitches is a heck of a lot more than a scratch."

"Which leg, McGee?"  Abby was pulling the blankets up to look.

Tim grabbed the top of the blankets before he showed more than he wanted.  "Umm, right leg, Abs."  He found himself rolled onto his side as the forensic scientist studied the scar on his leg.

Abby ran her finger across the puckered skin on the back of his calf, noting how it stretched as his ankle flexed.  "McGee, you shouldn't have driven back to Norfolk like this.  Not until it had a chance to heal."

"Why would he have driven to Norfolk?"  Ziva was confused, so Tony filled her in.

"That's where he was stationed before joining the team.  As I remember, he drove back that night to finish up paperwork so that his transfer could be processed."

"Greta drove me back."  Tim wouldn't look at any of them as he explained.  "I had to keep my leg elevated and she had a friend in Norfolk she wanted to see, so she drove my car for me.  It worked out for both of us."

"It certainly did."  Gibbs shook his head as he thought about how easily she'd slipped into McGee's life.  Now he just needed to know exactly how deeply she'd entrenched herself.

Chapter Text

No matter how much they may have wanted to stay in McGee's room, Ziva and Abby finally left to search Greta Rollins' work locker, leaving Tony behind in McGee's room.

"Have you ever heard of this conditions of McGee's, Abby?"  Ziva used a bolt cutter to pop the lock off as she opened the sealed locker.

Abby looked thoughtful as she shook her head.  "No, I'll have to do some research when we get back.  Ducky seemed to know a lot about it, though, and he didn't look happy.  What about you?"

"Never by name, but the trainers at Mossad were aware of it, I believe.  Someone with such abilities would have great value for their ability to withstand torture."

"Ziva, you don't mean that."  Horrified, Abby grabbed at the other woman's arm.  "This is McGee we're talking about.  That's like... that would be like hurting a puppy, Ziva."

"A puppy that could not feel any pain.  I am just saying that many would consider his condition a tactical advantage.  He is a kind and gentle man, it is understandable why he kept it hidden.  Imagine what would happen if the CIA or one of the even more covert agencies got their hands on him."

"We can't let that happen; we have to tell Gibbs."

"I am sure that he is aware, Abby, but right now Greta Rollins is more of a threat, and perhaps more than we realized."  Ziva lifted the photo taped on the inside of the locker door to expose the photo underneath.

Abby carefully pulled the picture of McGee loose, making sure not to catch her glove on the tape residue before dropping it into an evidence bag.  Once it was secured, she took a better look at it.  "This isn't the injury he was telling us about, it's the wrong leg.  How many times do you think he's been hurt without any of us knowing about it?"

"I do not know, but I believe Gibbs and Tony will get those answers from him very soon."  Ziva gathered several scraps of paper and a plastic egg from the shelf before closing the door.  "Just to be safe, we should show Gibbs the picture before we leave."

---NCIS---

Once the women left the room, Gibbs turned most of his attention back on McGee, while keeping an eye on Ducky, still wondering what had happened between the Medical Examiner and the injured man.  "Okay, McGee, after the Watson case, what's next?"

"The poison ivy, I'm not sure if that was supposed to hurt or not.  To me it just itched."

"Well, yeah, McGee.  It's poison ivy, it's suppose to itch."  Gibbs shook his head, but couldn't help his grin when Tony spoke up. 

"No hiding that one, McGoo.  Everyone that saw you knew you'd had a run in with the dreaded leaves of three.  I guess now we know how you were able to keep working.  You really didn't feel it?"

"Didn't have a clue until I saw the look on Abby's face.  She held up a CD so I could see my reflection.  I had to ask her if that was bad."

Tony thought over what McGee had told them.  He understood ignoring a minor injury in the middle of a case and even though he wasn't happy about the five stitches, it could have been much worse.  "Okay, you should have made Kate look at your leg when you fell, but I guess I can understand that, and you didn't try to hide the poison ivy.  I mean it's not like you've been shot or anything, right?"

McGee froze and Gibbs remembered an earlier, interrupted, conversation.  "Have you?"

"Umm..."  Tim struggled for words that wouldn't make it sound worse than it was, but Gibbs didn't have to patience to wait.

"Have you received an injury from a bullet, Agent McGee?"

"Kind of."  When he saw the thunderous expression on Gibbs' face, McGee rushed to explain.  "The first time it was such a minor graze that it didn't bled all that bad."

"You were shot and you didn't say anything?"  Gibbs was looming over him.  "Painful or not, bleeding or not, you tell somebody when you get shot, McGee.  Is that understood?  Now, what was going on that was too important to bother say anything?"

"Kate, it was the day Ari killed Kate."  In the stunned silence, Tim made his point.  "It wasn't deep enough for me to feel, it wasn't bleeding enough to be noticed by anybody.  I didn't even realize it until I got home at like two in the morning and found the hole in my shirt."

Gibbs sat heavily on the edge of McGee's bed as the younger man continued to explain about the pink tint left on his soaking wet shirt under his coat when he peeled it off, how even his drenched boxers had carried the stain of watered down blood.  Listening, Gibbs wondered just how he would have reacted at the time if he'd known.  "Where were you hit?"

Tim untied the top of his hospital gown and shifted enough for Gibbs to see the faint scar at the base of his neck.  From the size and shape, he could tell that it had been a minor hit, that he probably would have told the kid to suck it up if he'd complained.  Somehow, that made him feel even worse.  "You said that was the first time."

The hand resting on his neck was warm and comforting and Tim unconsciously leaned into it.  "The other time, the bullet didn't hit me, but some shrapnel did."

"When?"  Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs could see Tony intently waiting for the answer, too.

"Andre Jones, when we tried to take him alive..."

"He shot the camera on the side of your head."  Tony glanced over at Gibbs before continuing.  "That's when you got hurt?  Shrapnel from the camera?"

"Yeah."

Tony was still trying to wrap his mind around the entire situation.  "Scalp wounds bleed, Probie, a lot.  Why didn't we see any blood?"

"I don't know.  I wasn't doing anything to hide it; I didn't even know anything was wrong.  I guess the piece of metal kinda acted like a plug."

"It was still in your head?"  Gibbs stared at him, a horrified expression on his face.  "For how long?"

Tim knew the reaction was going to be bad.  "I felt the metal that night when I was washing my hair.  Since I couldn't see it, and couldn't tell how deep it was, I thought it would be better if I went to the emergency room rather than try to pull it out myself."

"By ambulance, right?"

He frowned at Tony's question.  "No, I just drove myself.  It wasn't that big of a deal."

Tony was not convinced.  "You had a chunk of metal sticking out of your head, McGee.  I think that qualifies as a big deal."  He turned to Gibbs for support.  "Am I right?  I mean, doesn't the fact that he drove himself bother you?"

"Got one better for you, DiNozzo.  He walked around like that for hours and we never noticed."

---NCIS---

Just east of Front Royal, Greta stopped at a Wal-Mart, throwing several magazines and some cookies into her basket along with a bottle of hair dye.  The harried cashier was so happy to see correct change that he never looked past the hooded jacket to see the woman who didn't want to be noticed.  Cash also talked at a run down motel where no one confirmed the name she wrote down.

---NCIS---

Gibbs paced back and forth, the new information running through his mind.  Intellectually, he knew that the shattered fragments of the camera hadn't been big, but the fact that he'd never noticed what had happened bothered him on a visceral level.  Before he could verbalize what he was feeling, Ziva and Abby arrived, the Goth marching straight to the bed, waving the photograph at McGee.  "All right, mister, explain this."

It took a minute for Tim to understand what he was looking at.  "Where did that picture come from?"

Abby crossed her arms as she shook her head.  "Nope, I asked first.  This is not the cut you showed me."

Gibbs got the evidence envelope away from Abby to take a better look at it.  The first thing he noticed was that McGee was laying in a regular hospital bed, not one of the exam tables found in the emergency department.  "You were admitted to the hospital?  When was this?" 

McGee groaned, knowing that this wasn't going to be good.  "About a week after we tracked down the Ranger that was a serial killer up in Shenandoah Park."

"When you called in and said you had the flu?  I thought you hadn't lied to me, McGee."  Gibbs bit back the urge to headslap the young man, but he did move closer.

"I didn't lie to you, Boss.  I thought I had the flu.  I woke up sick to my stomach and achy and I had a headache and I was running a fever.  Tony and Palmer were both out with the flu and..."

"Wait a minute, you can get a headache?"  Gibbs wasn't pleased with Tony's interruption, but he posed a valid question.

"Yeah, Tony, it's just my skin that doesn't feel pain.  I can still get headaches and I can feel a broken bone."

Gibbs wanted them back on target.  "So, if it wasn't the flu, what was it?"

"Remember when we all got tangled up in some thorns?"

"Yeah."  Gibbs did remember, as did Tony, especially the five minutes they lost pulling the thorns out of their skin.  He had a pretty good idea what had happened, but he let Tim explain.

"One of the thorns broke off under the skin, so I didn't notice it."

"Until it was infected."

"Blood poisoning, actually, Boss.  The doctor said I probably had a mild case of the flu, too, and that just made it worse.  Anyway, by then Ziva was sick, too.  We'd put in so many hours that month that the Director stood the whole team down for two weeks, remember?"

"Yeah."  Gibbs mostly remembered telling each of them to call when they needed something.  Tony's requests had been almost daily, while Ziva only asked once every few days.  He hadn't heard anything from McGee during the entire two weeks.

If Tim had looked up, he'd have seen a troubled expression on Gibbs' face.  "By the time the two weeks were up, I was cleared for field duty."

"How long were you in the hospital, Tim?"

"Just a day and a half, Boss."

"And the rest of the time, you were recovering at home?"  When he got a nod, Gibbs reached out and lifted McGee's chin to force eye contact.  "Why didn't you call me?"

"Greta... she said she called you the night I was admitted."  Even with his chin held up, Tim could only hold eye contact for a moment.

"You believed her?"

"Tony was sick, I knew you'd be busy with him."  Off to the side, Tony cringed at the thought that his friend was alone in the hospital while Gibbs was bringing him ginger ale and crackers.

"Yes, Tony was miserable with the flu, but you were in the hospital.  That was kinda important, McGee, and I can multi-task."  For the first time, Gibbs wondered what kind of a childhood McGee had.  He'd known the young man was insecure at times, but the ease in which Greta had worked her way into McGee's life and cut him off from the people that really cared about him was troubling.

Chapter Text

When everyone except Ducky stepped out to let the doctor examine McGee later that afternoon, Gibbs used the opportunity to send Ziva and Abby back to the Yard.  Abby objected, but a reminder that they needed to know what Greta had already done to McGee was enough to get her moving, determined to figure out the obsessed woman's next move. 

Once the two women were gone, Tony turned his attention to their boss, watching him watch the closed hospital room door.  "You okay, Boss?"

Raking his fingers through his hair, Gibbs shook his head.  "It wasn't just this one time.  Over and over, she convinced him that we didn't care, that he was alone.  With the drugs she was giving him, it's no wonder he questions his place with the team."

"Yeah, but now we know, right?  We'll make sure she never goes near him again.  Not only that, but now that we know about this condition of his, we can keep an eye on him.  I mean if one of us had checked his leg, we'd have found the thorn before it got infected.  He wouldn't have ended up in the hospital."

"I hope it's that simple, DiNozzo."

"We make it that simple, Boss, we've got to."

---NCIS---

Now able to take her time, Greta carefully brushed out her hair before she studied the magazines she'd bought.  Deciding on a style, she used all the tricks she'd learned from years of cutting her son's hair to duplicate the short, modern bob she had chosen.  Slightly shorter in the back, the layers were few and unstructured, easily hiding any unevenness from cutting it herself. 

Haircut complete, Greta began to practice styling it.  After many years of the simple bun, it took several attempts to master the loose, tousled look of the new cut.  A few more snips with the scissors and she was ready for the dye.

---NCIS---

"Well?"  Gibbs stared at the two doctors when Ducky and Dr. Howell walked into the waiting room.  They talked quietly between them and the Navy doctor did not look happy as he walked away without another word.  Gibbs watched him leave before turning back to Ducky.  "Is there another problem?"

"Dr. Howell would prefer that McGee spend one more night here; however, he has agreed it would be better if he were discharged now."  Ducky tugged off his glasses and started polishing them, a true sign of his own discomfort as he continued to explain.  "Nurse Rollins was looked up to by many of the younger nurses and some of them are still unconvinced of any wrongdoing on her part."

Gibbs glanced over at Tony, seeing the same concern on his face.  "Duck, are you saying that he's still in danger here?"

"Not of a physical nature, Jethro."  Ducky stepped closer and lowered his voice.  "However, as the drugs she was giving him begin to wear off, there's the possibility of a rebound effect.  Her hold on him won't actually become stronger, but he will be more susceptible to influences.  Being surrounded by nurses who were her friends and knew how hard Greta worked at taking care of McGee..."

"He doesn't need to hear them question our investigation of her."

"Precisely.  He wants to believe that we have his best interests at heart, but he is unsure of a great number of things at the moment."  Ducky looked away, but not before Gibbs saw a flash of guilt cross his face.

"Tony, why don't you go spend some time with him?"

Picking up on the suddenly strange vibe, Tony gave a short nod before moving towards the door to McGee's hospital room.

Gibbs waited until they were alone.  "Okay, what aren't you telling me?  Because you've got something stuck in your craw today."

"You may have never seen this condition, Jethro, but I have."  Agitated, Ducky started to pace.  "There can be profound psychological effects from not ever experiencing the sensations of pain.  Timothy has no idea exactly how much he has hidden from us by not being honest about this disorder."

"I thought this was rare."

"It is, rare enough that I'd hoped to never see it again."

"A patient?"

"Hardly."  Ducky finally stopped moving, only to stand and stare into space.  "He was without a doubt the most horridly cruel man I'd ever had the misfortune to know.  To him, people were no more than bugs to experiment on, totally devoid of compassion, sympathy, or the slightest understanding of the suffering of others."

"Whoever he was, McGee is nothing like him, Duck."

Ducky finally turned to look at him.  "Are you absolutely sure, Jethro?"

Blinking in surprise, Gibbs studied the other man, realizing how serious he was.  "Yeah, I am.  McGee may be a bit socially awkward, but there's nothing cruel about him.  Now I don't know if it's because his body can feel some pain, or if it's the way he was raised, but our little church mouse would never deliberately hurt another person.  I'll prove it to you."  Without waiting to see if he was being followed, Gibbs left the waiting room straight for McGee's.

---NCIS---

"Hey, it looks like they're going to spring you."  Tony plastered on a smile as he threw himself into the chair next to McGee's bed.

Instead of looking happy, the younger man looked somewhat lost.  "Yeah, I guess so."

Studying McGee, Tony wanted to question him, but a nurse arrived with a dinner tray.  "Here you go, Tim.  Greta ordered your favorite, roast beef with extra gravy and a slice of pecan pie for dessert."

Tony waited until the nurse left the room.  "So, roast beef is your favorite?"

Shrugging McGee dragged his fork through his potatoes, letting the gravy swirl across the plate.  "If roast beef is on the menu, that means the other option is a steamed white fish with boiled carrots."

"Ugh."  Distracted by that image, Tony curled his lip in disgust.  "Okay, I'd eat the roast beef, too."  He watched Tim fumble one-handed with a packet of pepper before reaching out and taking it.  "I got it, Probie."

"Thanks, Tony."  McGee took back the opened packet and sprinkled the pepper over his meal, his hand moving slower until it stopped.

"Tim?"

"What am I going to do, Tony?"  McGee dropped the now empty pack on the tray and stared at the pins in his other wrist.  "I'm not supposed to drive, or lift anything.  We haven't had a day off in almost two weeks, I don't even have any food in my apartment."

"Let me guess, Greta would take care of everything whenever you were hurt?"

"Yeah."  Tim didn't look up when Gibbs and Ducky came back in.  "She'd make sure my refrigerator was full of cooked food and do my laundry so I didn't have to go up and down the stairs, stuff like that.  I had to have IV antibiotics for a week when I got that infection and the only reason I didn't have to stay in the hospital was because she came over every night to give me the IV.  Nobody's ever taken care of me like that, before, not even my mom."

Gibbs had never questioned the obvious insecurities when McGee had joined the team, but he had his suspicions and now he had the perfect opportunity.  Coming closer, he sat in the chair across from Tony while Ducky continued to observe from the doorway.  "Must have been stressful for your parents, having a kid that can't feel pain.  How old were you when they figured it out?"

Frowning, Tim thought back.  "I was in kindergarten, so, five, I guess.  Before that, Dad just thought I was a tough kid, a real chip off the old block."

"How'd they discover it?"

"I was a real daredevil back then."  He turned to look when Tony snorted.  "Little kids are scared of things that can hurt them.  I didn't even know what that meant.  I split my scalp open on something,  don't even know what it was, but everybody at school freaked out.  Apparently I left quite a trail of blood in the playground."

"Oh, yeah, that would upset a few teachers."

Tim gave a quick smile at Gibbs' droll comment.  "Anyway, I got taken to the base hospital for stitches and there was a mix-up."

That brought Ducky closer.  "What kind of mix-up, Timothy?" 

"The nurse with the Novocaine didn't come in until after the doctor was about half way finished with the stitches."

"Oh, my.  I would expect the doctor to have quite a reaction to that."

"They kept me in the hospital for almost two weeks, wouldn't let my parents near me while they ran every test you could think of.  Even brought in a neurologist from overseas someplace."

"Wait, just wait a minute."  Tony stared at him in shock.  "Why wouldn't they let you see your parents?"

Gibbs had a pretty good idea, watching Tim's reaction as he gave his theory.  "They thought that you were feeling pain but were afraid to show it.  That one of your parents had you too intimidated."

"Yeah.  By the time they let me go home, Mom was pretty hysterical about what could happen to me and my dad..."

"Your dad?"  Gibbs was pretty sure they were closing in on the heart of the matter.

"Let's face it, when you're aiming to become one of the youngest Admirals in the Navy, having your kid taken away is pretty embarrassing.  He managed to get transferred to a different base and then out to sea for six months until the gossip died down."

"So, he left your mother to deal with it.  How'd she handle it?"

"No more riding my bike, no more skates, no more running outside, no more climbing trees, she told the teachers at my new school just some vague stuff, that I had this rare disorder and how any little injury could be life threatening..."

Gibbs remembered something he'd said before.  "The glass box."

"Pretty much.  She didn't stop there, she got someone at the base hospital to give her photographs of massive injuries, the more graphic the better.  Severed limbs, the whole bit."

Ducky was horrified and moved closer to sit on the edge of the bed.  "She showed those to you?  At that age?"

"She was terrified that I'd really hurt myself and wanted me to be scared of getting hurt, too.  The only thing that was safe was to sit in my room and study.  By the time my dad came home, his little roughneck was scared of everything and it took a long time for him to forgive her for that."

Of the three men listening to McGee, Gibbs was the only father, which gave him a slightly better perspective.  "They fought?"

"Constantly, and always about me.  They... they even separated a couple of times."  Tim started to pick at some lint on the blanket.  "While he was aboard the aircraft carrier he came up with this plan to raise me to be this kick-ass SEAL and suddenly I was a timid little geek."

Gibbs was at a loss for words.  He'd always suspected that McGee's relationship with his parents was somewhat strained, but he had no idea the cause.  Before he could come up with anything, Dr. Howell came in with the release papers.

While Dr. Howell and Ducky were fitting McGee with a wrist brace and discussing his post-op care, Gibbs put together a plan and set it in motion.  "Tony, you're going to go to McGee's place and get his clothes and whatever else he needs."

Tony grinned and nodded, but Tim didn't understand.  "Boss?  Where am I... oh, safe house because Greta knows where I live."

It probably wasn't a good idea to headslap the kid in front of the doctors, so Gibbs settled for a raised eyebrow.  "Besides that, McGee, you just had surgery.  You're staying at my place so we can take care of you.  End of discussion."

Still smiling, Tony headed out the door with McGee's keys.  He'd swing by his place to pick up a DVD player and a stack of movies.  The kid apparently had no idea how much of a papa bear Gibbs could be at times, and he was looking forward to the show.

Chapter Text

Tony didn't laugh when he arrived at Gibbs' house, but it was a struggle as he saw the look on McGee's face.  The younger man was wearing a pair of Marine Corps sweats, a faded quilt that Tony recognized tucked securely around him.  Even without Tim saying a word, Tony was pretty sure it had been a long time since his Probie had watched a local channel on a tube television.  Taking pity on his friend, Tony's first job was to hook up the DVD player he'd brought with him.

For the last twenty minutes Tim had been staring at the television screen, trying to decide which was worse, the black and white re-runs of Perry Mason or the Spanish speaking news broadcasters debating soccer.  He'd never been so grateful as when Tony came through the door, a DVD player tucked underneath his arm. 

While Tony was setting up for a movie night, Ducky returned with bags of Chinese food and the four men moved to the table.  Chopsticks weren't even offered but Tim was just happy that he'd been allowed off the sofa.

Conversation was light as they ate, but once the food was finished, Ducky had more questions.  "Timothy, at what point did they determine the presence of the anomalies in your condition?"

"It was a couple of months after Sarah was born."  Tim used the tine of his fork to push a few grains of rice around his plate as he realized there was no easy way to answer the question.  "I, umm, started having pain on the right side of my abdomen."

"Appendicitis?"

Tim's eyes flickered up to the doctor's face.  "Yeah, but my parents didn't believe me and the more that I complained..."

"They thought you were lying."

"My dad did."  Tim shrugged as he set the fork down.  "Mom thought I was acting out because of the new baby and I'd grow out of it."

"What did your dad do?"  Tony had heard enough about the senior McGee that he had some suspicions.

Still not looking up, Tim explained in a flat voice.  "It was just a few days before Christmas and little boys that lie to their parents don't deserve presents."

Gibbs' eyes widened, but he remained silent.

"Dad made me unwrap all my presents so I could see what I would have gotten and then he made me carry them all out to the car."

"Damn, Probie, that's awful.  He took them all back to the store?"

"No, he donated them so an honest little boy could have a nice Christmas."

"Bastard."

Ducky had to agree with Gibbs, but he was more concerned with the medical aspect.  "How long until your parents realized that something was truly wrong?"

Tim looked up, but they all knew he wasn't seeing them, but the vivid memories.  "The pain stopped for a while on Christmas Eve."

"Because your appendix had burst?"

A nod, then a shrug.  "Yeah, but my dad figured that I was just trying to get my gifts back.  I started hurting again on Christmas morning, but I didn't tell anyone.  I mean, why bother?  I started running a fever and by the next day it was pretty bad.  While my parents were at a party, my fever spiked and I went into convulsions so the babysitter called for an ambulance."

"Peritonitis, I assume?"

Tony had been listening closely.  "People die of that, right?"

"They can, especially if treatment is delayed."  Ducky turned back to Tim, a sad expression on his face.  "How long were you in the hospital, Timothy? 

"Almost until Valentine's Day."  He heard an angry hiss from Gibbs and continued to explain.  "Not all of that was because I was sick.  After the first week, it was mostly tests and experiments.  Apparently I was quite fascinating."

"Your parents allowed that?"

"I'm not sure they had a choice, Boss, not unless they wanted it public about why I was in the hospital in the first place."  Tim was visibly fading and Gibbs put an end to the evening, sending the young man off to sleep in the bed.  McGee started to argue, claiming that the couch he'd been resting on was fine, but one glare ended his argument.  Ducky followed to check on his arm while Tony helped clean up the kitchen.

"You okay, Boss?"  Gibbs just grunted and pulled two beers out of the fridge.  Tony accepted his and continued talking.  "I wish we'd known about all this earlier, I mean it explains a lot, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, Tony, it does."  Gibbs thought back, remembering McGee's almost obsessive need for total honesty.  Combined with his deeply seated insecurities and his inability to reach out for help, it all made sense.  "It really does."

---NCIS---

Once Tim was sitting on the edge of the bed, Ducky began to carefully check his arm, making sure that there was no swelling that would risk cutting of the circulation before slowly examining each of the pins securing the bone.  Finally, he knew he couldn't stall any further.

"I'm afraid that I did you quite a disservice earlier when I questioned your empathy and your honesty.  I forgot one of the basic tenets in psychology, that no two patients react to the same set of circumstances in the exact same manner.  I do hope you will accept my apology."

"You met someone like me before?  And he wasn't a nice person?"

Ducky thought about the question as he held the blankets up for Tim to climb into bed.  "No, I don't believe that 'nice' was ever in his vocabulary, and probably wouldn't have been even if he could have felt every possible moment of pain in his life."

"I'm sorry I remind you of him, Ducky."

"Not you, your circumstances, and I should have been able to keep them separate."  Ducky smoothed the blankets over Tim's shoulders.  "And for that I am truly sorry."

---NCIS---

Ducky left willingly at the end of the evening, but it took a little bit more work to get Tony out the door to sleep in his own bed and not on the hallway floor.  After finally closing the front door behind him, Gibbs found himself standing in front of the bedroom door.  Quietly, he eased the door open and checked on his man.  Tim was asleep, his injured arm tucked under his head, so Gibbs crept in to adjust him. Gently he eased Tim's hand out from under his cheek, murmuring softly as to not wake him.  After a moment, Tim settled back down and Gibbs finished moving his arm before tucking the blanket back around him.  Smiling at how young McGee looked, Gibbs instinctively brushed a hand over his hair before retreating from the room.

---NCIS---

Morning arrived with a surprisingly early DiNozzo just as Gibbs was putting the coffee on.  "Hey, Boss, how'd he sleep?"

"Pretty good, I think.  You can wake him up as soon as the coffee is done."  In truth, McGee had slept better than the older man, as Gibbs found himself checking on him and straightening his arm on an almost hourly basis, but he was sure Tony wouldn't figure that out.

"So, how many times did you poke your head in and check on him."

Busted, Gibbs just shook his head.  "He's a restless sleeper, kept moving his arm all night."

Tony had shared a room with McGee often enough to know that he slept on his side with his hands tucked under his face.  No matter what was going on, he'd eventually end up in that position, not settling down until he did.  After two sleepless nights for the boss, Tony had a plan.

"After you feed us breakfast, McGee and I are going out for a while.  We'll bring dinner back with us."

Gibbs studied Tony for a moment.  Beneath his attempt to give Gibbs a break was a real worry about McGee and more than a touch of residual guilt.  He realized that it might do them all some good and smiled as he nodded.  "Yeah, Tony, thanks."

Tony planned on going into the bedroom with a cup of coffee to wake McGee, but Tim wandered out just as the pot was finishing.  They watched in amusement as Tim homed in on the coffee, his eyes barely open.

Chuckling, Gibbs poured a cup and held it out.  "Other hand, McGee."  Once Tim was awake enough to be holding the cup in his uninjured hand, Gibbs started the bacon and eggs.

Fed, dressed and sling in place, Tim followed Tony out the door.  "So, where are we going?"

"You ever heard of the Omega-9 Project?"

Tim thought for a moment.  "Omega-9 is a group of fatty acids."  When Tony rolled his eyes, Tim thought about where else he'd heard the name.  "Oh, it's also a team of film historians that are restoring a bunch of the first science fiction movies."  The grin told him he was right.

"First showing is today."

Now McGee was grinning, too.  "How'd you manage to get tickets?"

Tony shrugged as he opened the car door for his friend.  "I called in a favor."  Actually, it was a bunch of favors, but to see the look on his partner's face, it was worth it. 

Back in the house, Gibbs finished his coffee before stretching out on the sofa, knowing that McGee was in good hands.

Chapter Text

  
Ducky's delivery of a heavier night-time brace meant a more peaceful night's sleep for Gibbs, even if he did check on McGee several times that night.  The next morning the younger man was obviously restless, despite his movie outing with DiNozzo the day before.  When he started making noises about going to the Yard, Gibbs decided a compromise was the best solution. 

"You can review some cold cases today if Ducky is satisfied with your progress."  Gibbs held a finger up before Tim could say anything.  "You wear your sling, that hand does not touch your keyboard and you take plenty of breaks.  That means you use the futon in Abby's office or the sofa in the break room.  Is that understood?"

Tim nodded vigorously and Gibbs ruffled his hair as he laid down his last law.  "You don't step out of the building without Tony or I with you.  Not even if Abby tries to talk you into going for lunch.  Deal?"

"Deal."  No matter how often he heard everyone's assurances, Tim felt he needed to prove he could still do his job.

---NCIS---

Greta looked over the empty warehouse carefully as the real estate agent waited for her.  It was perfect with no neighbors to notice her new life and all she had to do was distract the realtor enough to not ask for ID or do a credit check.  Cash usually did the trick.  "I'll take it.  I hate to be disturbed while I create, so if you don't mind, I'd like to pay for the first six months in advance."

The building had been vacant for almost a year and Wilma Donaldson was thrilled to get the commission.  "Six months in advance would be fine.  If you'd like, I can get the utilities turned on this afternoon."

"That would be perfect, thank you."  Greta handed over an envelope already filled with the required funds.  The amazing thing about claiming to be an artist was that no one batted an eye at any strange requests.  "Would it be all right to start moving in my props?"

"Of course.  After all, I'm sure you'd like to get right to work."

"Oh, yes, I would."

---NCIS---

"Hey, look who's here."  Tony grinned at McGee as the younger man followed Gibbs into the squad room.  Ziva also looked up with a smile.

"Welcome back, McGee.  It is not the same without you here."

"Thanks, guys."  Blushing, Tim retreated behind his desk, marveling at all the get well cards piled up next to the keyboard.  Unfortunately, Tony and Ziva had little progress to report on the search for Greta Rollins, but they eagerly returned to work while Gibbs went upstairs to brief the Director, Ducky at his heels. 

Jenny was waiting for them.  "Jethro, did I see that Agent McGee came in with you this morning?"

"Safest place for him to be until we catch that nutcase."

"Nutcase, yes, but do we have any evidence that she's after him?  She could be in Mexico by now and living high on the hog with the money she took with her."  The Director wasn't totally convinced by her own words, but she needed some sort of justification for the manhours spent already.

"You mean besides my gut?"  Gibbs gave her a careful look.  "Rollins has spent too much time and effort grooming McGee to take the place of her dead son.  She won't walk away now."

"Just how much control does she have over him?"

"Not as much as she had.  We're working our way through it."

"Since when did you become an expert in deprogramming?"  When he gave her that look, she sighed and leaned forward on her desk, turning her attention to Dr. Mallard.  "Seriously, Ducky, how is he?  Is this something he can come back from?  And I'm not just talking about physically."

"We have three separate issues to address with Timothy's recovery, Director Shepard.  The injury to his wrist is healing well at this point, but his doctors cannot make a long term prognosis until they can remove the pins and he begins physical therapy.  The drugs he was given are continuing to work their way out of his system, but again, this will take time and he will need the support of his friends as he rebuilds his self-worth."

"And this condition he has?"

Gibbs was determined to make it a non-issue.  "He'll be fine, Jen.  All he needed was to know that we consider him worth the bother, and for us to pay a little more attention to him."

"Pay more attention?"

"You remember the day you sent us out after one of the Frog's men?  The camera was shot right off of McGee's head?"

"Yes."  Jenny wasn't sure where he was going with it.

"He worked the rest of the day with a piece of shrapnel imbedded in his scalp and nobody noticed."

Jenny stared at him horrified.  "My God."

"Yeah."

"Is it even safe for him to be out in the field with this condition?"

"Look at it this way, Jen.  He's probably the only agent we've got that could suffer an injury like he did and still hang onto DiNozzo."

"Has Tony realized that?"

Gibbs thought back to the way his senior agent had been taking care of McGee.  "Oh, yeah, he knows."

---NCIS---

Greta looked around, pleased.  She'd managed to get everything she needed on Craigslist, right down to a man with a truck to deliver it.  Table, chairs, sofa and a bed were all set up and ready.  Now, she just had to make a run into the next town and buy the last few items that she didn't want the locals to see her with.

---NCIS---

Jenny still had her doubts, but she decided to focus on the case.  "Any leads on Greta Rollins' whereabouts?"

"Nope.  She's got enough cash to stay off the grid for a long time.  No surviving family, no close friends."

Ducky took over from Gibbs.  "For all intents and purposes, her entire life was her handicapped son and then when he died, she apparently transferred all that devotion to Timothy.  When her obsession was discovered and she was denied access to him, she – well for lack of a better word – snapped."  Ducky shook his head, a troubled look on his face.  "I've been reviewing Tyler Rollins' medical records.  It appears that he was a happy and healthy child until the age of four, when his parents divorced.  From that point on, his health was in an almost constant decline.  The only sign of improvement was during the summers when he was with his father.  Unfortunately, the father died when the boy was nine.  I have my suspicions about the young lad's medical problems and I'd hoped to confirm them by reviewing his autopsy findings.  Unfortunately, Greta Rollins did not allow an autopsy to be performed on her son."

The Director already knew where this was going.  "You want the body exhumed."

"Yes, I do.  It may not help us locate Greta Rollins, but it may tell us exactly what she's capable of."

She was already on the phone with legal when the two men walked downstairs, quietly observing the activity in the squad room.  Tim was typing one-handed on the computer as he ran searches for another team's cold case while Tony and Ziva both searched for clues in Greta's past.  Just as Gibbs sat down, Abby arrived, demanding that McGee come down to work on the Mass Spec, which had shut down in the middle of a batch of tests.

Gibbs didn't give Tim a chance to feel guilty or pressured.  "Get a technician to come work on it, Abby.  McGee is on limited activity until he recovers."

"But Gibbs, I hate having strangers in the lab.  It's just the wiring harness, he can fix that with just one arm.  I'd even hand him the tools he needed."  When he just glared at her, she stomped her foot before leaving.  As soon as the elevator doors closed, Gibbs turned to McGee.

"Your health is more important than her getting her way."

Tim didn't say anything, but the slight smile on his face as he ducked his head down told what an impact Gibbs' words had on him.

After a slow and unproductive day, Gibbs called it quits at 1800.  One look at McGee's tired face and he just shook his head at Tony, who understood.  Sure enough, McGee was asleep in the car before they even left the Yard.

Parked in his own driveway, Gibbs woke McGee enough to get him moving under his own power.  He was pretty sure the younger man wouldn't remember any of it, but he steered him to the bedroom and got him stripped down and into the bed.  This time he shoved extra pillows behind McGee so that he wouldn't roll over onto his arm.  After a bit of snuffling, Tim settled down with his uninjured hand tucked under his cheek and his injured arm laid out on a pillow. 

Laughing softly at how young Tim looked, Gibbs brushed his hand over the almost blonde hair before tucking the blankets firmly in place, just like he used to do for Kelly, before retreating out to the kitchen.  Gibbs stared at the steak in his fridge before grabbing the peanut butter instead.  Once he'd finished eating, he made a second sandwich, poured a glass of apple juice and covered them both with plastic wrap before carrying them into the bedroom.  Finally he left the door ajar and turned the hall light on before retreating to his own pile of blankets on the sofa.

Chapter Text

It was almost daylight when Greta finished the last of the details and she carefully straightened the down pillows on the bed.  This would be a perfect home to start her new life with her little boy.  All she needed now was to bake some cookies so he'd have a snack when he came home from school.  It wasn't as good of a kitchen as she'd had before Tyler's father had left them, but she'd made the small kitchenette work. 

Happily she touched the petals in the bouquet on the table.  The hills outside were covered in wildflowers and soon her little boy would go outside to pick more flowers for her.  The timer on the toaster oven dinged and she pulled out the small tray of special cookies.  It felt good to be making her special cookies again; it had been a sad day when Tyler refused to eat any more of them.  She carefully lifted the cookies with a spatula onto the plate and set it next to the bouquet.  Now she was done.  Now it was time to go get her boy and nothing was going to stop her.

---NCIS---

Unlike his partner, McGee was a quiet guest, so Gibbs didn't even realize he was up until he smelled the coffee brewing.  He rolled off the sofa with a grin and padded into the kitchen just as the pot was finishing.

"Morning, Boss."

"Morning, McGee."  Gibbs carefully eyed the coffee as he poured his cup.  At least it didn't look like the watery brew DiNozzo would make before he was banished from coffee duties, but the first sip would tell the story.  Hot, strong and just this side of bitter, just the way Gibbs liked it.  "Not bad, McGee.  Might make a Marine out of you yet."

Tim grinned and sipped at his own cup while Gibbs looked him over.  He looked more relaxed and refreshed than he had since this whole thing started.  He was dressed, the only thing out of place was the loose shoe lace on his right shoe.  He'd been slipping them on and off, but now it needed to be retied.  Gibbs topped off his cup, noting the dishes in the sink that showed McGee had eaten at some point, before sitting next to Tim.  The younger man flushed slightly, but didn't argue when Gibbs bent down and retied both of his shoes.

Not used to feeding so many people as he had the last few days, Gibbs' cupboards were seriously bare.  They had plenty of time to stop for breakfast, but Gibbs thought of something that might be more fun.  "What do you say, should we shock DiNozzo this morning?"  Without explaining further, he stood, taking his coffee in with him while he showered.

Sure enough, DiNozzo was stunned when Gibbs walked into the squad room carrying a box of donuts.  Even Jenny joined them as they quickly went through the treats.  Since Gibbs was in a good mood with his coffee in one hand and a chocolate cruller in the other, she decided to make an introduction, waving a tall, lanky man over to join them. 

"Jethro, this is Special Agent Matthew Page.  He just finished up a tour as an Agent Afloat before transferring to the Navy Yard.  Since Special Agent McGee will be on desk duty for the next few months, I'm going to temporarily assign him to your team as a TAD.  That will give him a chance to get used to the way we do things around here and give you a full team out in the field."

Seeing the looks on both Gibbs' and McGee's faces, she turned to her injured agent.  "Ducky tells me that you should make a full recovery as long as you don't push yourself too hard.  This will give you plenty of time to heal and get your strength back."

Tim gave a small nod, but he didn't look totally convinced.  Gibbs was more direct.  "McGee is still part of my team, no matter how long it takes to get him back out in the field."  

Jenny was pleased with herself to have not rolled her eyes.  "Agreed, that's why we refer to the position as a TAD."

Gibbs just gave a grunt and Tony moved closer with a folder.  "Umm, Boss, we may have found something about Rollins' ex-husband."

Before he answered, Gibbs picked up a maple bar and handed it to Tim.  "Why don't you take this down to Abby and let her complain about the repair technician leaving fingerprints all over the lab?"  Once the napkin covered treat was safely in McGee's hand, Gibbs ruffled his hair as he sent him on his way.  Tony and Ziva grinned at the exchange while Page looked troubled.

As soon as the elevator closed, Gibbs was all business.  "Okay, what have you got?"

"Pete Rollins dropped dead of a heart attack when he was thirty-two in the middle of a custody discussion with his ex."

"That was convenient.  Let me guess, no autopsy?"

Tony laughed, but his heart wasn't in it.  "Not only that, she had his body cremated less than twenty-four hours after he died, claimed it was his wish."

"Riiiight."  Gibbs wasn't convinced the death was from natural causes, but she'd managed to cover her tracks.  "Hopefully we'll get something off the son's body."

Page chose that moment to get involved.  "If your suspect had her ex-husband's body cremated, why didn't she do the same with her son's body?"

"This is why."  Ziva put a picture up on the plasma of a very large and elaborate headstone with fresh flowers arranged at the foot of the statue.  Near the foot of the gravesite was a marble bench.

Jenny moved closer to study the details.  "So the ex is disposed of like last week's garbage, but the son is treated like an Egyptian Pharaoh."

"I gotta say it's kind of creepy, Boss."  Tony added his own search results to the mix.  "I checked with the cemetery.  Until she went off the grid, Greta Rollins visited her son's grave every day, sometimes twice in a day.  She may not have liked her ex-husband, but she was pretty wrapped up in her son."

Gibbs glanced over at Jenny before returning his attention to the team.  "That's good work, but I don't want Tim to know the details."

---NCIS---

Abby was recalibrating the Mass Spec when McGee walked in.  "Hey Abby, Gibbs and I stopped for donuts."  He set the maple bar down on her workbench, making sure it was centered on the napkin.  The last thing he wanted to do was to make her angry by smearing the maple glaze on her clean wor surface.  "Did the tech guy do a good job?"

"I guess, but he just wasn't you."  She scooped up a chunk of the frosting and popped it in her mouth before loading the last of her samples.  "So, did Gibbs let you out today or are you AWOL?"

Tim carefully checked the new wiring harness before closing up the side of the machine for her.  "They're talking about Greta, so he sent me down here."

"Are you supposed to be taking a nap, or can you work one handed?"  She grinned at him as she bounced on her heels.

Tim never could resist that look.  "What ya' need Abs?"

She was already herding him toward the door.  "I just need you to hold a light for me, that's all."

Fifteen minutes later McGee found himself in the Evidence Garage, holding a work light over Abby's head as she cut apart a car with a blow torch.

---NCIS---

Not finding Abby and McGee in the lab, Gibbs next went down to the Evidence Garage, knowing that Abby was dividing her time between the Rollings case and one Balboa's team was working on.  Upon arriving, he had to grin at the sight of his wayward agent holding a light over Abby and trying so hard not to look at her backside as she worked.  His amusement turned to horror, however, when he saw the burning metal hitting McGee's leg as it splattered.

"McGee!"  Dropping his coffee, Gibbs grabbed Tim around the waist and pulled him back.

Suddenly losing her light, Abby quickly turned around.  "Hey, where's my light, mister?" 

She stopped yelling at McGee when she saw Gibbs there, obviously not happy.  "Gibbs, what are you doing?"  Obviously surprised at the arrival of the senior agent, she watched in shock as he tossed the light aside and marched McGee over to a table and forced him up onto it.

McGee had just barely hopped up onto the table before Gibbs grabbed his ankle and lifted it, almost knocking Tim off balance.  "Boss?  Boss, what's wrong?"

Gibbs batted at the smoldering fabric before pulling the pant leg up to reveal a chunk of bright hot metal melted against the nylon sock and blistered flesh.  He yanked at the sock, popping the metal loose as Abby's eyes grew large.

"I'm sorry, Gibbs."

Ignoring her, Gibbs tugged McGee off the table and marched him to the door, heading for Autopsy, as Abby followed behind, still apologizing.

Chapter Text

Ducky looked up from Tyler Rollins' medical files as he heard the outer doors swish open.  "My goodness, Jethro, what's happened?"
   
"Bad burn, Ducky."  Gibbs didn't elaborate further as he helped McGee onto the nearest table.  Tim wasn't limping, of course, but he knew better than to refuse the help.  Abby was a few steps behind them, wringing her hands and still apologizing.

Palmer went to get the first aid kit without being asked while Ducky rolled his stool closer.  Once Ducky was looking at the burn, Gibbs stepped back, forcing Abby back also.

"What did you think you were doing, Abby?"

"I just asked him to hold the light, Gibbs, and..."

He saw the fleeting look of guilt that crossed her face before she looked down at the ground.  "And what, Abs?"

"I told him that if I caught him looking at my butt, he'd be in big trouble."

"Oh, that's great, that's just great.  Since he couldn't look down, he couldn't see any of the visual clues that he was in trouble, Abby."

"I'm sorry."

"What would have happened if I hadn't come in when I did?  Think about that."

Abby started to tear up as she bit her lip.  "That could have been bad, really bad."

"No could have been about it, Abs.  Do you know how I knew he was in trouble?"  He waited until she shook her head.  "I could smell it.  I could smell burning flesh when I came through the door."

Ducky certainly understood why Gibbs was so upset, but Abby was about to burst into tears and it wasn't helping his patient.  "Abigail, do you have the rest of those test results for me yet?  It's very important that I know the time frame that McGee was exposed to those drugs."

The reminder of the effects McGee was still suffering was enough to stop Gibbs and with a jerk of his head he sent Abby scurrying back to her lab.  He took a deep breath and scrubbed his hands over his face before returning to stand next to McGee.

"I'm sorry, Boss."

Gibbs bent down and cupped McGee's neck, pulling him closer until their foreheads were almost touching.  "I'm not mad at you, Tim, just worried.  After being in a war zone, that's something you never want to smell again."  In truth, he hadn't felt a moment of terror like that since Ari shot at Abby, but McGee didn't need the pressure of knowing that.

Now that he had Tim's attention, Gibbs made his point.  "Abby needs to learn not to run roughshod over people and you need to learn to stand up to her."

"But..."

"No buts, McGee.  If she's putting you in danger over something as silly as a light, I want you to tell her – no – alright?"

"Yes, sir."

Gibbs let the 'sir' slide as he turned to Ducky.  "How bad is it?"

Ducky had been cooling the wound with sterile water and now he was studying the damage through his lit magnifying glass.  "Luckily, the burn itself is quite small, but I won't be able to determine if it is a partial thickness second degree burn or a full thickness third degree burn for a few days at least."

"Why not?"

"Mr. Palmer, would you... ahh, that's a good lad."  Ducky smiled as his assistant brought him the supplies he needed and he carefully began to remove the fragments of metal and nylon that were melted against the damaged skin.  "The more severe the burn injury, the longer it continues to develop and the most obvious determining factor is the pain level because a third degree burn destroys the nerves.  Timothy, here," he clapped McGee's knee to make his point, "doesn't have the nerves in his skin to begin with." 

"Does he need a hospital, Duck?"

"I will need to monitor this burn every day for a while, but he'll only need a hospital if a skin graft becomes necessary and that's not likely if we keep on top of it."  Ducky carefully placed the gel bandage over the burn and added a second layer of gauze as protection before wrapping McGee's leg.  "Well, Timothy, since you are already on desk duty, I don't suppose we have to worry about you going out in the field, do we?"

"No, we don't."  Gibbs answered before McGee could even take a breath.  "Is he good to go?"

Ducky pulled off his gloves  "Of course.  Now if anything starts feeling odd, I want you to call me, Timothy.  Better safe than sorry."

"Thanks, Ducky."  McGee gingerly climbed down off the table just as a call came through on the videophone.

Hey, Ducky, how's McGee?

Still annoyed, Gibbs didn't let him answer. "Have you got something for us, Abby?"  Her voice was subdued as she continued.

Umm, yeah, analyzing the levels of the drug residues in McGee's hair and then taking into account how fast hair grows...

"Abby, how long?"  

He started getting dosed eleven, maybe twelve weeks ago.  It built up to a really high concentration and then leveled off about eight weeks ago.

Gibbs turned to McGee, watching as the younger man obviously thought back.  "Oh."  Gibbs waited some more, eyebrow raised, until McGee finally elaborated.  "I, umm, stepped on a nail.  It was the same day that we thought Tony had been blown up in his car.  They were remodeling that building and I went up on the roof to get some aerial shots of the scene.  Guess I was kinda distracted."

"Damn."  Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment, pushing the memories back.  "When did you realize what had happened?"

"That night, when I couldn't get my shoe off.  After that long it was infected, and with the blood poisoning a few months earlier..."

Ducky knew exactly what he would have prescribed.  "You were given high doses of an antibiotic by injection."

"But it wasn't an antibiotic, was it, Ducky?  That's why it took so long to heal."

He looked over at Gibbs, seeing the same realization on his face.  She'd been more interested in gaining control of him than helping him.  "I'm afraid so, lad."

Tim turned from Ducky to Gibbs as he finally understood the depth of her obsession.  "I'm sorry, Boss.  I thought she was my friend, I thought she was helping me."

Gibbs was furious with the woman who'd risked McGee's health for her own twisted reasons, had turned his desire to stay on his team into a weapon to use against him.  "It's not your fault, Tim.  We all need to be a lot more aware from now on."  Over McGee's shoulder he saw Abby still watching on the videophone and she nodded before ending the call.

---NCIS---

Once back upstairs, Gibbs walked McGee to his desk before grabbing an unused office chair for him to rest his leg on as he quietly told Tony and Ziva what had happened before sending them on the lunch run.  Page was told to do all of McGee's fetching for the rest of the day, but he didn't raise an eyebrow until lunch arrived.  Tony cut Tim's sandwich into fourths, so he could pick it up one-handed, while Ziva blew on the soup until she was sure it was cool enough.  While Page watched, Gibbs smiled indulgently and McGee just rolled his eyes and laughed.

---NCIS---

Ducky and Palmer were just finishing their lunch when the exhumed body of Tyler Rollins arrived and they quickly returned to work.  It took a full twenty minutes to break the seal on the casket, but then Palmer was able to swing the lid up and out of the way for their first view of the body.

"Oh, my, we do have a problem."

Chapter Text

"Agent McGee, I heard you were injured again today.  Did Dr. Mallard clear you to continue working?"  Jenny cut through the bullpen on her way upstairs.

Tim instinctively straightened up as he set down his coffee.  "Yes, ma'am, it was just a small burn.  I'm to check in with him every day until it heals."

"Excellent.  The SecNav has informed me that we will be getting a briefing on a technology upgrade tomorrow.  I'd like you to sit in on the meeting, tell me if this is something we really need and how it will actually help."

"Of course, ma'am.  If it's in regards to the cognitive-support system that the Corps has been beta testing as part of the Terror Organization Portal, you might want to read this over."  He plucked up a folder from his desk and handed it to the Director.  "I've reviewed the applications and have made some recommendations as how to best utilize the program as a civilian agency as our scope is beyond their strict anti-terrorism protocols."

Jenny bit back a smile as she took the folder.  "Of course you have, Agent McGee.  I look forward to your input."

Once she'd gone upstairs, Tony walked over to McGee's desk and playfully pinched his cheek.  "You're so cute when you speak techno-babble."

"Knock it off, Tony."  Laughing, Tim swatted the hand away before turning to Gibbs.  "Boss, if I'm going to be staying at your house much longer, I'll need to get more clothes from my apartment."

Gibbs was going to suggest they stop there on their way back to his place that night when his phone rang.  "Yeah, Gibbs."

Jethro, the body has been exhumed and I think you'd better get down here.

"On our way."  Once he set the phone down, Gibbs turned to Page.  "Take McGee back to his apartment for what he needs.  Keep your eyes open for Rollins.  You can ID her, right?"

Page stood, checking his weapon.  "Of course, Gibbs."  It was hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.  He'd only been shown the pictures of the frumpy, gray haired woman a hundred times.

---NCIS---

Halfway to Silver Spring, Page shook his head.  "Man, McGee, I don't know how you put up with it.  They treat you like you're a little kid.  That would sure piss me off."

"They're just worried, that's all."

"Because you broke your wrist?"

"Dislocated, actually."

"Hell, I dislocated my shoulder playing football in high school and it wasn't any big deal.  Coach popped it back in during half time."

McGee had heard enough macho stories to know bragging when he heard it, but he didn't see the point in debating the subject too much.  "Yeah, well, they can't pop a wrist back in.  They have to do it surgically, and there were some – problems – after the operation."

"If you're going to learn to be a field agent, you're going to have to toughen up, kid."

Now McGee was sure he didn't want to argue it anymore.  "I'll keep that in mind."

---NCIS---

"What ya' got, Duck?"  Gibbs arrived in Autopsy, Ziva and Tony on his heels.

Ducky handed over the death certificate.  "According to this, young Tyler Rollins hung himself.  The local doctor signed off on it."

"Yeah?"  Gibbs followed Ducky over to the body.

"If he hung himself, how do you explain this?"  Ducky pulled the sheet down, exposing the head.  A large, hand shaped bruise covered the lower part of the face.

"What the... how in the hell did they miss that?"

Ducky actually seemed excited by his find.  "Bruising that occurs right at the time of death can be very difficult to detect, Jethro.  A country bumpkin doctor wouldn't know what to look for, but the embalming process brings the bruise to the surface.  Unfortunately, by then, the casket had been sealed."

Ziva leaned closer for a better look, using her own hand to compare.  "This was a woman's hand, most likely.  You believe his mother hit him before he hung himself?"

"No, look closely."  Using the tip of his pen, Ducky pointed out the defined edges that showed the fingertips in the bruise pattern.  "The bruising is more substantial at the edges.  A slap would have had the greatest pressure at the palm, not the fingertips.  This was caused by someone applying pressure, most likely to stop his breathing. 

"Now look at the marks on his neck.  No matter how determined someone is to kill themselves, unless the hanging snaps their neck, there's always a bit of a struggle.  This is a clean wound.  He never so much as twitched."

Gibbs thought through what Ducky was showing them.  "He was already dead when he was hung."

"Precisely, Jethro."

"But, why?"  Tony started pacing as he talked.  "I mean, we've seen mothers snap before, but she cared for him for years, did everything for him.  If it was too much, why kill him after he was out on his own?"

"I'm afraid that it's possible that Greta didn't want to let go."  Ducky shook his head.  "If that's the case, then she's even more dangerous than we believed."

Ziva was still looking at the body.  "There are no signs of defensive wounds on his hands, was he too ill to defend himself?"

"Do we even know what was wrong with him, Duck?"

"I suspect that nothing was actually wrong with the poor boy, at least nothing of a natural cause.  I'll know more after I open him up."

"In Philly we had a case.  A little kid kept ending up in the hospital with symptoms that didn't make sense."  Tony sighed, he hated cases with children.  "The hospital got suspicious and videotaped the mom's visits.  She was putting castor oil down his feeding tube.  Docs said that the mother had a specific mental condition."

"Munchausen by Proxy, Tony.  Usually it's a parent that craves the attention from family and from the medical staff.  I've never encountered it where the parent was a nurse, but I'm afraid it's entirely possible.  In this case, after reviewing young Mr. Rollins' medical history, I'd say she didn't kill him because she was overwhelmed by his care.  I'd say she killed him because he tried to get away from her."

"It fits what she was doing to McGee, too."  Gibbs stared at the body for a moment.  "I need more answers, Ducky."

"Yes, well, you'll have them as soon as I have them."  Ducky pulled down his face shield and picked up a scalpel, ready to start, and the team left the room.  Instead of returning to the squad room, Gibbs led them to the lab.  "Let's see if Abby's got anything new."

---NCIS---

Walking across the parking lot, Page dug out a pack of cigarettes and McGee glared at him.  "You are not smoking in my apartment."

"Fine.  I'll just stand out in the hallway."

"That's your idea of a protection detail?"

"Hey, you're a big boy, even if your team treats you like you're five."  Page rolled his eyes and took the key.  "See, lock's intact, nothing's been jimmied."

He opened the door and stuck his head inside the apartment.  "It's clear.  If the boogieman tries to get you, just yell."  While McGee went in to pack his clothes, Page walked back out to the breezeway and lit his cigarette.

Furious, Tim pulled out his phone as he debated calling Gibbs.  He knew Page was toast the second Gibbs found out, but part of his still felt like a tattle-tale.  As he debated with himself, he walked into the bedroom and stopped, staring at a wheelchair sitting in the middle of the room.  Movement caught the corner of his eye and he spun around.  He felt a pressure against his arm and his knees buckled  as he fell, unable to move.

---NCIS---

"What ya' got, Abs."

Abby was staring at a blob of putty on her workbench.  "Not much, Gibbs.  All the fingerprints on the vials were Greta's, and the picture of McGee she had in her locker came from the same make of cell phone that in on her contract.  She wasn't getting a very good deal with her carrier, Gibbs.  Do you know how many people pay for services they never use?"

"And that relates to the case, how?"

"It doesn't, not really."  Forcing herself back on track, she pointed out the blob of putty.  "This is the only thing I'm still testing.  Major Mass Spec told me that it's regular old silly putty, the kind kids get, but that's it.  You can see the folds from where she stretched it out and then wadded it back up, but I don't know why yet.  Maybe she used it to lift a picture.  Did you ever do that, Gibbs?  Flatten it out and press it against a page from a comic?"  

---NCIS---

Matthew Page enjoyed his cigarette as he looked around.  From his vantage point he could see most of the complex.  It was nice and well kept, tempting for the freshly relocated man, but he didn't want to have to spend all his free time babysitting Gibbs' baby agent.  The view improved when a striking woman appeared at his elbow, struggling with a bag of groceries.

"Excuse me, could you help me with this?"

Something about her looked vaguely familiar, but before he could look past the short, bobbed hair and the brightly colored blouse, a knife was thrust between his ribs.  Gasping, he tried to pull his weapon, but she reached it first, kicking it down the stairs along with the canned peaches she'd taken from McGee's apartment.  Page could feel himself being dragged towards the open apartment door and wondered why he'd given up being an Agent Afloat.  Nothing like this ever happened to him aboard the Reagan.

---NCIS---

The team was all watching Abby carefully peel the layers of silly putty apart when Jenny arrived.  "Dr. Oliver finally sent over a list of additional drugs that are missing from their inventory."

"Nice of him to put such a rush on that for us."  Instead of chastising Gibbs for his sarcasm, Jenny handed the list over to Abby who immediately started checking on the computer for their properties.  As she did that, Ziva took over separating the putty.

"This is bad, this is really, really bad, guys."  Abby was practically vibrating.  Just as Gibbs was contemplating her first ever headslap, she started sharing what she found as she tapped on the monitor screen.  "This one is a fast acting paralyzing agent.  This one is a sedative and this one..."  Her voice trailed off as she stared at the screen.  "I don't understand why she'd have that."

"What is it?"

She turned at Gibbs' question.  "It's a chemotherapy drug, that doesn't make any sense."

Tony was frowning as he thought out loud.  "Chemo, nasty side effects?"

Abby started reading the details.  "Yeah, nausea, vomiting and anemia."

"Boss, she needs him sick so she can take care of him."

Tony's theory made sick sense, but before they could debate it, Ziva finally made it to the inner layer of the putty.  Instead of the print from a comic, there was the faint outline of a key.  Tony dug through his pockets and found his key to McGee's apartment.  It was a perfect match. Gibbs instantly grabbed his phone to call McGee while Abby quickly pulled up Page's number.  Both phones went to voice mail.

Chapter Text

  
Smiling as she pulled onto the freeway, Greta looked in her rear view mirror.  Unmoving and unconscious, her little boy was asleep in the back seat.  He'd have such a surprise when they got home and he found milk and cookies waiting for him.  She scrubbed her hand against her leg, rubbing at the blood she could still feel on her fingers.  She wasn't happy about that, Tyler knew better than to talk to strangers.

Despite the stranger that had stood in her way, her rescue of her son had gone exactly as planned.  The only thing that could have made it better would have been if Jethro Gibbs himself had been there, but of course he couldn't bother.  This just proved that she was the better caretaker.  Eventually she'd have to get rid of him just like her loser ex-husband, but for now she just wanted to enjoy being a mother again.

---NCIS---

With Ziva driving and using every shortcut she knew between the Yard and Silver Spring, the team arrived quickly, but not quick enough.  Greta was long gone with McGee.  Local LEO's had the scene contained and the team followed the paramedics up the stairs.  Slight drag marks and a small amount of blood showed the path the attack had taken.

"Why was Page out here, Boss?"

It was Ziva that found the partially smoked cigarette that gave them their answer.  Gibbs moved into the apartment and leaned past the paramedic that was working on Page to grab the agent by the chin. 

"What the hell happened, Page?"

"Changed her looks, Gibbs.  Didn't recognize her in time."

"Why weren't you with McGee?"

"Figured... figured he'd want to be treated like an adult for a change."

Gibbs stared at the injured man.  "He is an adult, what the hell are you talking about?"  The ambulance attendant arrived with a stretcher and Gibbs moved back for a moment to give them room.  Before they rolled him out of the apartment, Gibbs leaned over to whisper in his ear.  "Don't even think about dying before you can give a new description of her, you got that?"

Ziva had to smile at the threat, imagining Gibbs following the man into hell just to drag him back.  Other than the obvious spot where Page had been dragged in and dumped, the living room looked undisturbed, but when she looked over, DiNozzo was on his hands and knees, looking into the bedroom.

"What did you find?"  Ziva stepped closer, camera in hand, as she looked into the room.  There were several hypodermic needles, one on the floor and one on the dresser, but Tony was studying a pattern in the carpet.

"Do you see it, Ziva?"

She got down next to Tony, where the angle of the light made it easier to see.  Parallel lines crossed the carpet.  "Something with narrow wheels was rolled in and out of the bedroom.  A cart of some kind?"

"Well, I don't think Probie would have just walked out of here with her and she's not big enough to pick him up and carry him very far."

They backed up and noted that the lines continued through the living room, and out the door.  The pattern was definitely different from the multiple small wheels on a stretcher.  One of the emergency workers noticed what they were staring at.  "Was your missing man in a wheelchair?"

"What?"

"That's kinda what it looks like"  He shrugged as he picked up the last of their gear.  "We get a lot of calls to some of the older nursing homes that still have carpet.  You see those patterns all the time."

Tony was deep in thought but still managed to call out before he went through the door.  "Hey, thanks."

"What are you thinking, Tony?"

"We know that she's a nurse, right?"  Ziva nodded, but let him continue to think out loud.  "Okay, so we know that she's got a fast acting drug that can paralyze, plus a longer acting sedative.  As a nurse, she'd know how to move an unconscious patient and how to handle a wheelchair, even on the stairs."

Gibbs finished his call to Jenny and joined DiNozzo and Ziva.  "Talk me through it, what do we know so far?"

Tony started talking, his arms waving around.  "We know Page was having a smoke outside when she surprised him and I'm betting that he didn't properly clear the apartment.  She was hiding, waiting for McGee, and jabbed him with a dose of the paralyzing agent.  He might not have even seen her because there's no sign of a struggle."

Ziva picked up the narrative.  "She placed him in a wheelchair and injected him with the sedative, then just wheeled him out."

It fit what little they knew, so far.  "Alright, who was attacked first, Page or McGee?"

Ziva didn't know, but Tony answered immediately.  "McGee, then she went after Page to clear the way."  He pointed into the kitchen and the opened cabinets  "The bag of groceries she used to get close to Page came from Probie's kitchen."

Gibbs nodded, impressed.  "She had to have some sort of transportation lined up.  See what kind of security cameras there are around here and talk to witnesses because right now we don't have a clue even what direction to look.  Process what's most important, the Director is sending another team that can finish processing the scene."

---NCIS---

Abby was in the lab, ready for them when they returned and immediately started processing what they'd brought back with them while Tony and Ziva started reviewing all of the footage they'd brought back.  If any of the cameras around the apartment complex showed her car, they could issue a BOLO.

Jenny arrived in the lab just a few moments behind them.  "I've got an agent at the hospital ready to take Page's statement as soon as he's able and a sketch artist standing by.

"That idiot was sitting outside having a cigarette instead of watching McGee's back."  Gibbs was furious and started crowding the Director.  "He thought leaving him alone was a good idea."

"Was Agent McGee armed?"

"He's on restricted duties because of an injury to his dominant wrist, of course he's not carrying right now.  That was one of your new rules, remember?"

Jenny stood her ground.  "Don't make me the bad guy, Jethro.  Let's just concentrate on finding Agent McGee."

Raking his hand through his hair, Gibbs turned back to Tony.  "Anything?"

"Maybe.  Spotted a figure in a hooded coat pushing a wheelchair toward the back parking lot.  The apartment manager didn't put any cameras back there, but the business across the street has one.  It only shows about half of the parking lot, but maybe we'll get lucky."

Gibbs could not sit still and wait.  "Tell me the minute you find something.  I'm going to go check with Ducky."

---NCIS---

It was the awareness of movement that clicked in Tim's mind first.  Something soft cushioned his fall and he was vaguely aware of a pillow being placed under his head.  He fought to open his eyes as he felt a needle slide into his skin.  As he felt himself being pulled back under, a hand brushed his hair back and dry lips touched his forehead. 

"There, there, sweetheart.  They won't be bothering us ever again.  Mama's going to take such good care of you."

---NCIS---

"What can you tell me, Ducky?"  Gibbs stormed into Autopsy to find Ducky up to his elbows in the body.  Dr. Mallard glanced at him, but continued to remove the sample and drop it into the evidence jar Palmer was holding for him.

"Get those to Abigail posthaste Mr. Palmer, then see if Tony and Ziva could use an extra pair of eyes.  I can finish up here myself."

"Of course, Dr. Mallard."  Jimmy hastily screwed on the lid before gathering the rest of the samples and scurrying out the door, bypassing the irritated agent.

"Whatever that was is going to have to wait.  Our first priority is to find McGee."

"Agreed, Jethro.  However, knowing exactly what she did to her own son may help us save Timothy's life once you have found him."  He waited for Gibbs to calm down.

Recognizing the expression on the older man's face, Gibbs took a deep breath.  "So she was responsible for his medical problems?"

"This young man was tortured for most of his life, Jethro.  There is no other way to describe it.  I have found layers upon layers of scar tissue in his stomach and throughout his digestive tract.  It's no wonder his growth and development was so stunted – he was probably only able to absorb a fraction of the nutrition he was getting."

"Any idea what caused the scarring?"

Ducky pulled of his gloves as he moved closer to Gibbs.  "Some sort of caustic cleaning solution would be my best guess at the moment.  Probably given in small doses over an extended period of time so that his symptoms were chronic rather than acute."

"And you think she'll do the same thing to McGee?"  The very thought was making his own gut churn.

"He is the replacement child in her eyes."

Gibbs started pacing again.  "Where would she take him, do you have any ideas?"

"I've tried to analyze her, Jethro, I really have, but it's like a ghost.  She had no identity outside of those she cared for.  Her son, her patients and now Timothy.  I can't find any indication of the real Greta."

"What will she do to him?"

"I don't know."

"How long can he last with her?"

"I don't know."

Gibbs spun around with a shout.  "Damn it, Duck, what do you know?"

"That you will do everything in your power to bring him home safely."  When Gibbs' chin dropped down onto his chest, Ducky knew the point had been made.  "More importantly, Timothy now knows that, and I believe it will give him the strength to hold on."

"Thanks, Ducky."

---NCIS---

The next moment of awareness brought another shifting of position and Tim found himself restrained in a wheelchair.  Greta wasn't paying too much attention to him at the moment, so he risked a look around.  They were in a large building, but only the center was lit.  It reminded him of the stage when he was an extra in the school play.  Off to the side, under a strong light, was a twin sized bed, covered with rumbled dinosaur bedding.  With a small maple dresser and a toy box, it could have been any little boy's bedroom.  To the other side was an arrangement of sofa and chairs, also brightly lit, while he appeared to be sitting at a dining room table. 

Greta was happily vacuuming the rug under the sofa, her back to him at the moment, so he focused on his restraints.  A wide leather strap went across his chest, pinning his upper arms against his body, while other thick straps tied his legs to the footrest posts.  He tried to rotate the chest strap, or slide it up, but it was padlocked to the chair. 

He concentrated on how he was feeling.  He was struggling to keep his eyes open and his hands shook when he raised them.  Whatever she'd dosed him with was still in his system, even if he'd been able to get out of the straps, he was pretty sure he wouldn't get very far just yet.

"Hello, sweetheart, did you have a good nap?"  Greta appeared at his side, startling him, but she seemed unaware or unconcerned about his escape attempt.  "Mommy baked you some of your favorite cookies.  They have chocolate chips in them." 

He stared at her incredulously.  "Cookies?"

"Of course."  Smiling, she scooted the plate closer to him.  There was a faint chemical smell to them and they were an odd color.  "Would you like some milk to go with them?"

"No, I want you to untie me and let me go home."

She returned with a glass of milk.  "Home?  But we are home, Sweetie.  This is our new home, forever and ever."

He heard Tony's voice in his head.  Play nice with the crazy lady, Probie.  Don't piss her off.

Trying to look helpless, Tim sagged against his restraints.  "I'm too tired to eat.  Can I go back to bed, please?"

Greta stared at him for a long time.  There was something brittle about her now, something that convinced him she was more dangerous than ever.  "All right, Mommy will put you back to bed and you can have your cookies in the morning." 

Unbuckling his legs gave him no advantage.  He still couldn't raise up and he was too close to the bed to kick out.  As he'd feared, he was still too drugged to do anything when she released the chest strap.  Before he could react, she tipped him forward and he tumbled onto the bed.  A handcuff he hadn't seen was attached to the bed frame and withing seconds, his good arm was secured, then his other.

He struggled, but was unable to prevent her from pulling off his pants.  "No, what... what are you doing?  Stop, please."

"Now, now, silly boy.  Mama knows you need to go potty by now."  She pulled a sterile package out of her apron pocket and tore it open.

Remembering back when he broke his leg and was in traction, Tim immediately recognized the tubing in her hand.  "No, I don't need that.  I can hold it until morning."  He tried to twist away, to limit her touch. 

"Lay still, Tyler."  There was an echo in the room as she slapped his hip.  "Be a good boy and lay still for Mama."

Tim froze, not because he wanted to be a good little boy, but because she was already forcing the foley catheter inside him.  It didn't hurt, but he couldn't risk an injury that would prevent him from escaping.  Ashamed by the hands touching him, he turned his face away and feigned sleep, hoping she wouldn't dose him again.  It seemed to work, but he couldn't quite stop the shudder when she bend down to kiss his cheek.

Chapter Text

Tired and sore, Matthew Page was glad when they were finally done questioning him and the artist had left with the agent.  If that was how all victims were addressed, it was no wonder why the teams at the Navy Yard had such a hardcore reputation.  He had just closed his eyes when the door opened again.  Expecting the sour face agent that had been drilling him, he was surprised to see the Director standing at the foot of his bed.

"Ma'am, thank you, it's real nice that you'd come see an injured agent."

Jenny stared down at him.  Agent Walters had been quick to tell her that Page had expressed no remorse, that he still did not grasp the gravity of his error.  She had half a mind to turn him over to Gibbs, but finding McGee was the top priority.  "This isn't a social call, Agent Page.  This is your official notification of suspension, pending a full review of your actions earlier today."

"What?  You can't do that."  He struggled to raise up slightly as he argued.  Suspension meant no medical leave and therefore no pay.

"Actually, I can.  Before you ask, I've already reviewed the situation with legal and HR.  You were on a protection detail and walked away for a smoking break, thus allowing a woman that has already committed at least two murders to kidnap her next victim.  You might have been able to fly under the radar while aboard ship, but at the Yard, under my direct supervision, I expect a great deal more."

Now he was getting angry.  "I'm a screw-up?  Then how in the hell is that little pipsqueak even a field agent?"  The look he was given could have cut glass.

"Agent Page, are you aware of exactly how Special Agent McGee was injured?"

"He sprained his wrist or something."

Jenny continued on as if she hadn't heard him.  "Special Agent DiNozzo was knocked off a building.  He would have been killed in the fall, but Special Agent McGee grabbed his hand and eventually pulled him to safety.  The strain on his arm was enough to pull the bones in his wrist apart far enough to allow one of them to almost completely roll over.  The damage was great enough that if the doctors weren't able to repair it quickly enough, his hand would have been permanently paralyzed."

Page shifted in the bed as he thought about it.  The kid had mentioned it being dislocated, but he had no idea it was that bad. 

Giving him a hard look, Jenny continued.  "Special Agent McGee is not a jock, he's not overly muscular.  You think about what kind of inner strength it took for him to not let go."  

---NCIS---

"Got her."  Tony sat up, staring at the screen.  The security camera from the business behind the apartments had only caught a corner of the car Greta had loaded McGee into and all they had known was that the car was old, big and light colored.  There had been three possible routes away from the parking lot, and he'd finally spotted the same car on some ATM footage.  Luckily, an Oldsmobile Cutlass from the mid-80's was not a common car on the road, which made it easier to follow.

Gibbs rushed over to peer over his shoulder, patting his back at the sight.  "Good, that's real good, Tony.  Ziva?"

"I am already on it."  Jenny had gotten them authorization to link in with the city's red light cameras, they'd just needed to determine which street to start on.  With the location and the time stamp from the ATM video, they were quickly able to pull up the needed footage in MTAC.

Tony followed the car through Silver Spring, switching from camera to camera as needed.  He'd heard how McGee had done this for him, and was grateful for the chance to return the favor.  He watched as the car made a sweeping left hand turn and – "No, no, no!"  He slammed his hands down on the desktop in frustration.

"Damn it."  Gibbs bit back the urge to kick at a chair, since they were all occupied.  "Tell me there's another camera."

Tony shook his head.  "She dropped down onto the interchange, could have gone either direction on the freeway."

"And taken any exit or any other interchange."  Gibbs finished for him.  "Tony?"

"Find the clearest images of the car and send to Abby to clean up and hopefully get a license plate."

"Ziva?"

"Update the BOLO's and start contacting local law enforcement in every city on every possible path."

They both rushed to their assigned tasks while Gibbs made a phone call.  That was a road a lot of Marines traveled and right now, they needed all the eyes they could get.

---NCIS---

"Status report?"  Jenny came into MTAC looking for an update. 

"Last city traffic camera showed her getting onto the I-495 exchange, but there was no way to know if she was headed east or west."  Gibbs glared at the screen in disgust.  "From there she could have gone anywhere."

"All right, I'll start getting us access to state and federal highway traffic cameras."  Behind her, Jenny heard DiNozzo mutter about how McGee would have hacked into all of them by now and she turned toward him.  "Yes, Tony, but if he were here to do that, we wouldn't have a problem."

Ziva interrupted them as she brought over the map.  "How far would she go, Gibbs?"

He didn't know, that was the problem.  "Let's start with the freeway cameras in Maryland, Virginia and West Virginia."  

"What if she went east?  Do you want Delaware?"

"Yeah."  He studied the map some more.  "We'll focus on the tri-state area first, but get the ball rolling in case we need it."

---NCIS---

It was the middle of the night, and he'd managed to get stabbed, have surgery and destroy his career all in one day, so he should have been sleeping, but Matthew Page laid there, staring at his own wrist.  As he twisted and flexed it, he could feel the tiny bones moving.  He didn't even look up when the door opened.

"Ah, you are awake, Matthew."

"Dr. Mallard, what are you doing here?"

Ducky came in and sat in the visitor's chair.  "I called the nurse's station to check on you and they said that you kept staring at your wrist.  Since you didn't injure your wrist in the stabbing, I thought that, perhaps, you were coming to some sort of a realization."

Page nodded slowly before looking up at Ducky.  "Yeah, I guess I have, but there's just one thing I don't get."

"And what would that be, Agent Page?"

"Why aren't they treating him like a hero instead of a little kid?"

Details of McGee's medical condition had spread through the building since his kidnapping, but Page hadn't been around to hear them.  "Well, Matthew, let me tell you a story."

---NCIS---

"Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, I got the license plate."  Abby came running in, waving a piece of paper.  Tony snatched it and immediately ran it through DMV.  Once he had an address, Gibbs kissed Abby's cheek followed Tony out the door.

Abby looked lost, so Ziva pulled her over to help sort through the images as they came in.

---NCIS---

Greta watched from the shadows as her boy went from pretending to actually sleeping.  Not that she blamed him, change was always hard, but it was time to accept his new life.  She approached him and quietly slid the needle into his arm.  He didn't wake, didn't even flinch, which just proved how much he truly trusted her.  Satisfied, she went to work.

---NCIS---

"NCIS, open up."  Gibbs' banging on the door was enough to wake not only the occupants of apartment nine, but most of the rest of the building and several doors opened, not just the one he was pounding on.

"What do you want, man?  I got papers, I'm legal to work."

"We're not Immigration, buddy, where's your car?"

"My car?"

"Your car."  Tony shoved the picture in the man's face.  "1986 Oldsmobile Cutlass, beige in color, used to kidnap a federal agent.  That makes you an accessory."

Whoa, whoa, whoa."  Now awake and sober, he stared at the two agents.  "I didn't kidnap nobody.  I sold the car to some woman, she gave me seven hundred bucks for it."

A woman's shrill voice came from inside the apartment.  "Seven hundred, you told me you only got five hundred.  What you do with the extra money Paco?"

Gibbs poked his chest to keep him on track.  "When?"

"Tuesday morning, she gave me cash.  That's all I know, man."

"Was it her?"  Tony held up both the photo of Greta and the new sketch.  Paco went straight for the photo.

"That's her,"  He glanced over his shoulder as the woman inside continued to demand to know about the missing two hundred dollars.  "I helped you, man, now can you, you know, do something about?"  He shrugged his shoulder at the angry woman coming at him.

Gibbs gave a smirk.  "Consider it your punishment for selling a car to a psychopath."  He looked past him.  "Just remember, we might need him for a trial."

Bright purple fingernails latched onto Paco's ear.  "Don't worry, he'll only wish I'd killed him, officer." 

---NCIS---

Gunnery Sergeant Miles Lewis watched his men as they lined up for morning PT.  After the phone call from his old buddy late last night, he was glad his guys had been given leave the day before.  Maybe just one of them had seen something.  "All right you guys, listen up."

---NCIS---

"Good morning, Sweetheart, did you sleep well?" 

Feeling the effects again of a sedative, Tim groaned as he opened his eyes.  His mouth was dry and he was sick to his stomach.  He was also back in the wheelchair.  "What did you do to me, Greta?"

"Now, now, is that any way to talk to your mother?"

He bit back a retort and just glared at her before risking a glance around.  In the garbage can was some narrow tubing.  He glanced down at his body.  The hated catheter was still in place, but a baggy pair of boxers had been placed on him for a little bit of modesty.  The bag strapped to his leg contained dark fluid that told of his increasing dehydration.  More observation showed new punctures in his arm and on the back of his hand.  Another wave of nausea rolled through him.

"Stomach doesn't feel good."

She patted his arm and jumped up to push the chair closer to the table.  "Well, silly boy, you didn't have your dinner last night.  Now come eat your cookies.  I bet having some food in your tummy will make you feel better.  Now, don't those chocolate chips look good?"

The chocolate chips did look good, but it was the large blue pieces scattered in between the chips that worried him as they appeared to be the source of the chemical smell.  He decided on a half-truth.  "I don't like sprinkles."

"But I made them especially for you."  Her smile was becoming brittle again and her knuckles were white as she held the plate.  "I want you to eat these like a good boy."

"No."

"You don't want Mother to have to punish you, do you?"

He wasn't sure what kind of punishment she had in mind, but he knew that if he ate those cookies, he'd be in serious trouble.  "You're not my mother."

Chapter Text

"Incoming message from Quantico, Agent Gibbs." 

At the technician's words, Gibbs moved to the main screen and nodded.  A few seconds later the image of an old friend filled the screen, a young man next to him.  "Miles, it's good to see you again.  You have some news for me?"

"Maybe,  This is Private Long and he might have seen something that could help you."

"Agent Gibbs, sir."  The young man seemed nervous to be talking to his drill instructor's former DI.

Gibbs bit back a smile.  The soldier didn't look a day over nineteen.  "Just Gibbs, son.  Now tell us exactly what you saw."

"I was visiting my girlfriend yesterday and I passed a car that looked like the one you're asking about.  There was a woman driving it."

"Was anyone else in the car with her?"

"There was a guy sleeping in the back seat.  I wasn't next to them very long.  She was driving below the speed limit and I..."  He glanced over at his Gunny, "Umm, I wasn't."

It fit what they thought.  "Where was this, son?"

"Just before Centreville, sir, on the highway.  She was headed west.  I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think too much about it at the time.  Just thought she wasn't very good looking for a cougar, you know?"

"It's alright, you've helped us a lot."  Once the screen went dark, he turned to Abby and Ziva.  "Start pulling the camera footage for I-66 westbound."

"Would some extra pairs of eyes help, Jethro?"

He looked up to see Ducky walking towards him and he wasn't alone.  "Page."

Much to his credit, Page walked right up to Gibbs.  "I know I screwed up, Gibbs, but I'd like to help."

"Thought you were on suspension?"

"I am."  Page straightened up and looked Gibbs in the eye.  "I screwed up and I deserve the suspension, but I've got a good eye for cars and I owe the kid."

Gibbs got right in his face, but Page didn't flinch.  "You only get one more chance.  You screw up again with McGee's life on the line and yours won't be worth a plug nickle.  You got me?"

"I got it."

---NCIS---

The slap didn't sting, but it was still a shock and knocked his head to the side.  McGee waited to see what she would do next.

"I don't like to punish you, Sweetheart, but I won't tolerate that kind of backtalk."  Her hands fluttered around her head as she patted her hair back into place.  "It's time you ate your cookies, then Mommy can take care of you."

"Because they'll make me even sicker, right?  Is that why Tyler was always so sick.  You were his mother, you were supposed to help him get better, but you were the reason he was sick in the first place."

"No."  She started walking in circles, pulling at her hair.  "No, no, no, I took care of him.  I took care of him better than anyone else ever could.  I was his mother."

At the end she was shouting, but Tim just shook his head.  "That's Drano on those cookies, isn't it?  Mother's don't do that, not if they really love their children.  That means you never really loved Tyler."

"Stop it, just stop it."  She slapped him hard again, twice, but Tim was convinced it was better than eating any of the food she was trying to force down him.  At least it hurt her more than him.  He'd have to tell Tony that, if they found him in time.  His dad had given up on spanking him when he was a kid, one of the few perks of his condition.

---NCIS---

Gibbs, Ziva and Tony were gearing up when Ducky and Abby came back into the squad room.  Abby was wringing her hands.  "I finished the tests on Tyler Rollin's body, Gibbs.  Ducky was right, she was dosing him with low levels of lye for years."  Behind them Ziva let out a curse in Hebrew and pulled a few extra knives out of her desk.

"I am afraid that is not all we found in the body, Jethro."

Gibbs turned from Ducky back to Abby.  She was in tears.  "This woman is seriously sick, Gibbs.  There was evidence of both arsenic and mercury poisoning, long term poisoning.  You've got to get him back."

"I will, Abs.  Keep us posted."  It was almost an hour's drive to Centreville.  With any luck by the time they got there, the team at the Yard would have narrowed down the location.  Once the elevator door closed, Abby and Ducky returned to MTAC.  Ducky sat next to Palmer while Abby joined Page at one of the other monitors.

Page tried to give her a reassuring smile.  "They'll find him, Ms Sciuto, they have to because I owe him an apology."

Abby brought up up the feed from the camera they were checking.  "Yeah, me too."

---NCIS---

Greta stared at her unruly boy.  He'd not only continued to refuse to eat, but he'd managed to get his chair rocking enough to bump the table and knock his milk over.  "I'm going to have to punish you if you don't behave."

He didn't answer.  Instead, he stared at the milk as it ran across the table.  He'd seen the added ingredient in the cookies, but there was some sort of grit in the milk.  Convinced that his best chance at survival was to not eat or drink anything, Tim continued to defy her.  He'd managed to loosen the band around his left leg enough to lift the foot pedal out of the way and to reach his right arm down enough to release the brake on that side of the chair.  Now he let her rant as he worked his left arm down enough to reach the brake on that side.  He could feel some grinding, but tried not to bend his wrist any more than absolutely necessary.

---NCIS---

While every available person was looking at the footage from the various cameras, Jenny started calling the Chief of Police in every small town  along the road Greta had taken.  

Page and Abby spotted her car and Page gave a shout.  "Got a sighting.  She passed the turn-off for Haymarket, so she did not get on State Route 29."  An entire road and the adjoining towns were eliminated with that news, and Jenny called to the town of Marshall, the next small burg along her path. 

Marshall was a sleepy little town, not even incorporated, but Chief Hayes knew exactly who to ask when the call came in.  While Jenny listened in, he walked across the street to check in with the town matriarch.  Miss Julia watched everything that came through her town and saw the car parked at the hardware store the day before.  Hank, the owner of the hardware store, remembered the strange woman that had come in and paid cash for some used horse tack and a winch.  She had left Marshall the same direction she'd come in – from the west.  Jenny thanked him and turned to Ducky, who was quickly going through his notes on Greta Rollins.

"Ducky?  Do you have something?"

"Perhaps.  She has been methodical in her planning.  The day before she took McGee, she was buying what she needed and she did so in a strange town."  I suspect they will find her hiding out in a nearby town."  Ducky consulted the map again.  "Tell Jethro to start searching in either Front Royal or Strasburg, most likely Front Royal since it is the closer of the two.  She'd need someplace where she'd have privacy and she was probably planning for long term."

"An abandoned building?"

"Possible, but unlikely.  She is replacing her son with Timothy.  The building has to be something she'd be comfortable living in as a family.  Not an apartment, but a single family home on acreage is a possibility and she would have paid cash, probably several months in advance.  That way nothing will disturb her time with her new son."

Sitting next to the conversation, Abby shuddered.  "That's really creepy, Ducky." 

While Jenny was relaying the new information and Ducky's theory to Gibbs, Page started fast-forwarding through a particular feed.  Just as Abby was about to tell him to slow down and pay more attention, he stopped the stream.  "There, '86 Olds Cutlass, taking the cut-off straight to Front Royal."  When they all stared at him, he shrugged.  "I may not be good with people, but like I said, I know my cars.  She took McGee to Front Royal, it's the only town that direction.  If she'd been going to Strasburg, she'd stayed on the highway."

Juggling two phones, Jenny finished her conversation with Gibbs and called the local police.

---NCIS---

"Tyler, you stop that right now."  Greta had gone into the back room to get a feeding tube and when she'd come back, McGee had managed to get half way to the door.  "One way or another, you need to eat."

"No way, lady."  He kept scooting the wheelchair with his feet, trying to get as much distance between them as he could.  His nausea was increasing and he was rapidly weakening, but he was not going to let her pump anything into his stomach. 

He gained another few feet of protection, then the rear wheels snagged on an electrical cord across the floor.  Before he could force the chair over the obstacle, she was on him.  He was at the wrong angle to kick at her, but when she leaned close to grab his face, he head butted her with everything he had.

Greta screamed and dropped the feeding tube to clutch at her bleeding face.  Tim kept struggling to get away from her, but she grabbed one side of the wheelchair and deliberately tipped him over.  "You monster, you little monster, after all I've done for you, this is how you repay me?  I gave you every chance, Tyler, every chance."    

Chapter Text

Tim shook his head, trying to clear it as he felt himself being dragged across the floor.  The sound of the metal of the wheelchair as it scraped across the concrete was enough to cut through his confusion.  Greta was talking under her breath.

"You've got too much of your father in you, Tyler.  I can't have my sweet boy back until I whip that demon right out of you.  Then you'll know how much your mama truly loves you."

There was a flash as the light reflected off the syringe and Tim quickly went limp.  He could only observe as he was released from the chair and the straps were changed around.  Prior experience had told him that the paralysis would be brief and it was, the ability to move was already beginning to return as he was hoisted up by a winch.  Focusing, he could hang on with his uninjured hand, protecting his wrist as best he could.  His toes were barely touching the ground by the time she was satisfied.

"Greta, you don't have to do this."

---NCIS---

The black sedan slid to a stop next to the police car, the occupants jumping out before the engine fully died.  Gibbs held his badge up as he circled around the car.  "Gibbs, NCIS, what have you got?"

"Larry Radford, Chief of Police.  We've only got five realtors here in Front Royal, and only one handles rentals.  Her office is right over there."

Once inside the cramped office, Gibbs shoved the sketch of Greta under the lone occupant's nose.  "Did you rent a place to this woman?"

The woman leaned back and slowly took the picture.  "Why, that's Nona Jones, she's an artist.  I rented her the warehouse over on Seventeenth and Oak.  She said she needed a lot of space to get ready for her next showing.  Is there a problem?"

Gibbs didn't even take the time to glare at her before he was back out the door.

---NCIS---

"Greta, please, you don't have to do this."

"All I ever did was try to take care of you, Tyler, but you wouldn't listen to me.  You wouldn't eat the good food I fixed you, and then you moved away and wouldn't let me take care of you.  How could you let strangers do that?  They didn't know you like I know you.  They couldn't possibly take as good of care as I do.  Now, Mama's gonna whip you and when you've been punished enough, then we'll have a nice meal together just like we're supposed to."

The first strike with the whip whistled before it hit, spinning him partially around.  He concentrated on trying to move his legs, but it was still too soon.  After five or six hits he could feel moisture on his back and was afraid he was bleeding.  His right hand was wet also, but he was afraid to look.  Blood or sweat, either way it made it harder to hang onto the leather that suspended him, but he tightened his grip.  So far the brace on his wrist was protecting it, but he knew that if his right hand slipped, the results could be devastating.

She was screaming at him to beg for forgiveness, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction.  Finally, after one particularly hard hit Tim was able to lift his legs and let the momentum swing him around to face her. 

The one sport McGee had excelled in as a teen had been wrestling and he kicked out, wrapping his legs around her.  It was a strange version of a submission hold, but Tim held on as she fought to break free. Not even when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye did he let go.

---NCIS---

Gibbs stopped the car at the base of the driveway and the police cruiser parked next to him.  Two more patrol cars rolled to a stop along the broken down sidewalk.  Gibbs, Tony and one of the officers crept to the front entrance while Ziva took the second officer and the Chief around to the back.

Gun at his side, safety off, Gibbs worked his way closer, making sure he wasn't visible from any of the dirty windows.  About half way to the building he could hear the angry screams of a woman.  When he heard the sound of a heavy impact against flesh, he took off running, Tony at his heels.

He made it to a small window and smashed it in with his elbow.  Gibbs would have considered it justified to take the shot, but the blows were moving McGee around too much.  Cursing, he and Tony ran for the heavy door, the officer a few feet behind.  They were only able to pull the door open a few inches.  The officer dropped down and pushed with his legs while Tony wedged his shoulder in the small opening and joined in.  The barrier slowly gave way, but it was a horrifying few seconds as they watched Greta hit Tim over and over with a leather whip.

"Rollins, get away from him."

Neither Tim, nor his attacker, seemed aware of their presence and just as the door broke free, Tim managed to turn the table on Greta.  Her neck was tightly trapped by McGee's legs, but she was screaming and clawing at him, digging deep gouges in his calves.  His only grunt of pain was when she ripped the foley catheter out of him.

Her movements were slowing from a lack of oxygen just as the door broke free.  They ran across the room as she finally dropped to the floor.

"McGee."

"Probie."

The back door was securely chained and Gibbs just got a glance at Ziva climbing through a tall window, obviously being boosted by the two local LEO's.  He let the officer with them handcuff Greta as he and Tony went straight for McGee.

"Easy, kiddo, we've got you."  Gibbs gingerly supported McGee as Tony cut him free.  "It's all right, it's over now."

"Boss?"  Blinking as he struggled to stay conscious, Tim looked up at Gibbs.

"Yeah?"

"I'm... I'm suppose to tell you."

"Tell me what, Tim?"  Gibbs glanced over at DiNozzo, who looked just as baffled. 

Tim stared at Gibbs, not wanting to see the condition of his own body.  "I think she hurt me, Boss."

Gibbs couldn't help but bark out a laugh.  "Yeah, Tim, I think she did."

---NCIS---

"What is taking them so long?"  Abby paced back and forth in the waiting room at Bethesda. 

Jimmy tried to reassure her.  "Abby, the helicopter only landed a few minutes ago.  "They haven't even had time to evaluate him.

"Who's with him?  He shouldn't be alone.  Jimmy, who's with him?"  As her voice got louder, Jimmy tried to calm her down.  "Gibbs flew with him and Dr. Mallard met the helicopter, remember?  They're both with him.  Tony and Ziva are driving back with the prisoner and they'll be here soon.  The Director is getting her committed."

"She should go to prison for what she did to McGee."

"With any luck she'll spend the rest of her life in a facility for the criminally insane.  Let's just concentrate on McGee, okay?"

---NCIS---

Gibbs was forced to step out while the took x-rays of McGee's wrist.  He was still pacing in the hallway when Ducky arrived back from the lab.  "Well?"

"Good news, Jethro.  Timothy refused to eat or drink anything while he was her prisoner so he wasn't poisoned at all.  She did give him a rather strong dose of that chemotherapy drug that she'd stolen, but the effects are already starting to dissipate."

Gibbs let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.  "Thank God."

A nurse poked her head around the corner as the x-ray technician left with the portable machine.  "You can go back in now."

They followed her back through the maze of room as she explained.  "He's exhausted from his ordeal and from being drugged repeatedly and his muscles are quite stiff.  Luckily the worst of the damage is what he can't feel."

What he'd thought was terrible a short time ago was now a relief.  "So he's in no pain?" 

"Just some slight discomfort from the catheter not being properly removed."

Gibbs sat on the offered stool near the head of the exam table.  Tim was laying on his stomach as the doctors carefully cleaned each of the whip marks on his back and the fingernail gouges on his lower legs. 

Finally safe, Tim was drifting in and out, but opened his eyes when he felt the reassuring weight of the hand on his head.  "Boss?"

"Hey, McGee, how ya' doing?"

"I'm hungry."

Gibbs shared a smile with Ducky.  "We'll see about getting you something to eat as soon as they're done working on you, okay?"  Tim nodded and Gibbs watched him for a minute.  "That was smart, not letting her feed you."

Tim's eyes drifted closed, but he explained softly.  "I could tell she'd poisoned all the food she tried to give me.  I figured I'd be better off taking the punishments rather than risking whatever was in it.  Most of the time, she'd just slap me."

"What set her off at the end?"

"She was going to put a feeding tube in me because I wouldn't eat.  I couldn't risk it."

"That was smart, real smart."  Gibbs leaned close.  "I'm proud of you, son.  You did good.  Now, just rest.  You've earned it."