Chapter 5

"Ah...Bermuda!" Tony said gleefully. "I love Bermuda!"

"Tony, is there any island that you do not like?" Ziva asked sarcastically.

"Sure."

"Like what?" Tim asked.

"The Falkland Islands. Way too close to the South Pole for my tastes. Greenland. Baffin Island."

The others chuckled.

"Why can't we come to these islands on vacation? Why do we always have to be pursuing criminals?"

"You want a vacation in the tropics, DiNozzo? Pay for it yourself," Gibbs said as he strode past him. "We're here on the job. Don't think I don't know what you were doing in Puerto Rico."

"That was years ago, Boss! I've matured since then."

Tim snorted.

"Got something to say, Probie?"

"I don't think I need to, Tony," Tim said, grinning.

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

"What is these men are alleged to have done?"

"Killed a Navy lieutenant who discovered their drug dealing at Norfolk."

"Oh. Yeah, I saw them. They were down in the marina, looking to get a boat."

"Which marina?"

"King's Wharf."

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

"Did Probie-san forget to take his Dramamine?" Tony asked maliciously.

Tim swallowed as the cutter plowed through the waves. He was definitely looking green around the gills and Tony was enjoying it.

"There's a storm heading this way, Agent Gibbs," the captain reported. "It doesn't look too bad at the moment, but these things can worsen suddenly. We may have to stop and ride it out."

"Understood. We gaining on them at all?"

"Some." The captain saw Tim's face and grinned a little. "We're at max speed right now. We'll catch them, but it could take a while."

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

"There she is! Looks abandoned!"

"We're going aboard."

"Your man going to make it? He looks a bit unsteady, and it's pretty choppy as it is."

Choppy was an understatement. The storm was bad and the killers' ship rode pretty high.

"He's tough. He can make it," Gibbs said.

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

"Boss..." Tim began, looking distinctly ill.

"McGee," Gibbs said with resignation. Sometimes, it was a real trial have someone who got seasick on the team.

"Sorry, Boss," Tim said, whirled around and ran for the head. They had passed it just a few minutes ago as they cleared belowdeck.

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

The ship tilted alarmingly. "Whoa! What was that?" Tony asked.

"Where is McGee?" Ziva asked.

"The head."

"We should get off the ship. No one is here. They must have met up with their partners and escaped."

Tony was about to reply when the three of them were tossed against the wall.

"She's capsizing!" Gibbs shouted. "Run!"

Reeling like drunken sailors, they ran topside as the ship righted itself.

"Where's McGee?" Tony shouted. The storm seemed to have grown threefold in the short time they had been below.

"Look! There!" Ziva shouted, pointing at a shuddering figure on the deck. They ran and turned the man over. It was not Tim.

"Egner!" Gibbs shouted. The ship tilted again. "Where's my agent?"

Egner didn't answer and Gibbs picked him up and threw him against the side of the cabin.

"Where is he?"

Egner looked terrified. He wasn't a sailor. "Overboard! A wave took them and the lifeboat overboard!"

Tony and Ziva started to run for the side, but then, the ship began to fall, seemingly in slow motion toward the ocean. They looked at Gibbs. He looked out at the ocean, trying to find Tim, but the rain and waves obscured everything beyond the deck. They could barely see the Gallatin from there.

"Jump!"

"What about McGee?"

"We'll find him! Jump!"

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

"What are the odds, Boss?" Tony's whispered voice asked.

"The odds of what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked but knowing what he meant.

"Us finding him...before he died."

"Not high," Ziva said. "I am sure that McGee could tell you."

"More than likely," Gibbs said, smiling a little. They were in the medical facility, staring at Tim as he slept. It had been a couple of hours, but they had just waited while Gallatin made best speed for Bermuda. During the chase that had led them into the first storm, they had ended up 100 miles northwest of the islands. Tim had drifted or been blown another 100 miles in the second storm and then with the current he had been in. It wasn't quite in the Gulf Stream, but it was close enough that he'd been carried northward. He was badly sunburned on his face and arms and neck, and he was bruised over pretty much the rest of his body...in addition to the large bruise that graced his forehead.

It had been such a relief when they found the boat, although there was a moment when they had panicked. Tim had been lying so still in the bottom. They hadn't felt much better when he sat up and stared around, not seeming to even recognize them.

"He's going to be all right," the medic said. "We've got him on a saline drip to counteract the dehydration, and the only reason we're doing that is because he's unconscious...but that's not too serious either. We'll get him checked out more thoroughly in Hamilton, but he's going to be fine."

"Thank you, but we will stay," Ziva said.

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

"You should have stayed in the boat," the corpse said, grinning. "You're drowning. There's no ship. It was all a dream."

Tim mumbled and shifted. Gibbs sat up. They'd all drifted off, waiting. It was a few hours back to Bermuda, and they hadn't really slept all that much during the search. He was on the verge of waking up, it seemed...and whatever he was dreaming wasn't particularly pleasant.

"You're going to die...all alone. You can join me at the bottom of the sea!"

"No!" Tim sat up, shouting, "No!" and gasping for air. Immediately, Gibbs was beside him, pushing him back down.

"Calm down, McGee," Gibbs said. Tim looked up at him, not seeing him for a moment, tears blurring his eyes. Then, before Gibbs could do anything else, Tim looked at his boss and wrapped his arms around his waist, like a child hugging a parent. Gibbs almost started laughing, but the fear on Tim's face was too serious to laugh at.

"You're alive! You're alive!" Tim started to cry. "I saw...I saw the ship go down...I didn't...see you get away. I thought...you had all drowned. I thought you were dead...all I had was the body and..."

Tim didn't seem care about the fact that he was hugging Gibbs. No doubt it would be embarrassing later, but right now, he didn't care. His only care was that his friends were alive. He repeated the words over and over again, as if to make sure that they were really true.

Body? Gibbs sat down beside Tim on the bed, keeping his hands firmly on Tim's shoulders. "What body, McGee?"

"One of the guys we were chasing. Not Egner, but the other one. He got shot...with a harpoon."

"What?"

Tim sat back, still shaking a little. He wiped away the tears and explained. "I'm not sure where they were hiding, but Egner was on the deck when I got there. He dragged me up and I was..." Tim flushed and swallowed. "...throwing up too much to stop him."

Gibbs just smiled, too glad that Tim was okay to worry about seasickness.

"Either Egner was aiming at me and missed or else he fired it accidentally, but the harpoon killed the other guy. We both landed in the lifeboat..." Tim shivered in recollection. "I looked and looked for you guys, but...I couldn't see anything except the ship sinking and then, I got knocked out and when I woke up, there was nothing...nothing except the corpse in the boat. I was sure you guys must be dead..."

"We're not dead, McGee. Promise. How are you feeling?"

Tim sniffled and laughed. "Terrible."

Gibbs chuckled. "I can believe that."

"Probie!"

Tim barely had time to shift position before his back was being thumped much too heartily by Tony. Ziva, shifting smoothly from asleep to awake, sat at the end of the bed and patted his leg much more calmly, but she too looked overjoyed to see Tim awake and alive.

"It is good to see you, McGee."

Tim tried to wipe away the tears, but they kept getting replaced by more...Tony wasn't helping, Gibbs could tell, but Tim also seemed to be so happy that they were all alive...

"They kept trying to say that you were a goner, but we all knew that you'd stay alive just to buck the trend," Tony said, extremely happily.

"Tony...you're giving me whiplash," Tim said through his tears.

"Sorry, Probie. We're just glad to have you back alive."

Suddenly, Tim's eyes were haunted. "I couldn't see any way out of it...not when I was in the boat," he whispered and shivered a little. "The Atlanic is over 45 million square miles of ocean. Even if you cut it down to just the area I was...drifting in...that's..." Tim stopped and seemed to realize that he was babbling.

"...and I thought you were dead. I thought that, even if by some miracle, you had gotten out alive, there was so much empty space. Just me drifting in the water." Tim's voice was shaky, but no one interrupted, not even Tony. "I was hungry. I was thirsty. I was sharing a boat with a corpse." He laughed briefly. "Then...that second storm...I wasn't sure if I could make it. I got...knocked out of the boat, and...I almost drowned...and...I wasn't even sure if I wanted to make it by that time. There's..." Tim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Tony grabbed his shoulder in support, but he still didn't speak. It seemed more important to let Tim get this all out at once. "The only thing I could see coming was a slow, miserable death, all alone..." He laughed again, but rarely had his laughter sounded more hollow. "...I didn't even have the corpse anymore. It got washed away during the...the storm. I was so tired. I was sucking water out of my shirt while it was raining, just so that I could...drink something. Then, I was so cold. I didn't have anything left. The storm took too much away. I'd given up. It was easier than trying to hope. Hope took too much energy." He shivered again.

In a gesture that he knew was extremely paternal, Gibbs pulled the blanket up around Tim's shoulders and stood. "You need anything?"

"A bath, water, food...dramamine," Tim said, smiling a little.

"I would have thought that all your time at sea would have cured your seasickness," Ziva commented.

"No...I was sick the entire time."

Ziva smiled sympathetically. "I will see if they have some dramamine."

"I'll check with the medic and go to the mess," Gibbs said.

"Water's right here," Tony said and handed Tim a bottle.

Tim grabbed it and chugged it down, causing Ziva to pause before she left.

"Slow down, McGee," Ziva said and pulled down the bottle. "There is plenty more."

Tim nodded and tried to drink more calmly, but all too soon, the bottle was empty. Tony just grinned and held out another one. "Drink away, Probie."

Ziva rolled her eyes and left as Tim downed another bottle of water...more slowly this time.

Within an hour, Tim was sated, both body and spirit...and his stomach was calmed. With the team around him, he fell asleep again, allowing his body to heal from its recent abuses.

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

"You're going to die...you're all alone..."

Tim opened his eyes in a panic and sat up in bed, panting. For a moment, all he could see around him was the open ocean, just the neverending expanse of water...but then, his vision cleared. He was in the hospital in Hamilton. He had been admitted overnight, just as a precaution. Tomorrow, they'd be heading back to NCIS, suspect in hand, the same four who had left. Tim looked around the room. Gibbs was asleep in a chair next to the bed, his head tilted backwards. Tony's head was pillowed in his arms as he slept, slumped over the bedside table. Ziva was in much the same position, only her head was on the foot of the bed.

Tim smiled at the sight of them all there. It brought a lump to his throat...and it made him feel safe again. While he sat there, basking in the comfort of their presence, Ziva opened her eyes. His movement had disturbed her.

"McGee, are you all right?" she asked, whispering to keep from disturbing the others.

"Yeah, Ziva. I am. Thanks."

She smiled. "I was afraid that you would be lost forever...or worse, that we would find you just barely too late. I am not sure which would be worse."

"Neither am I."

Hesitantly, Tim held out his hand. Ziva scooted closer and took it in her own. They sat silently and then, Tim leaned back in bed and Ziva returned to her former position. They both slept.

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

"So...Probie, how do you feel about sailing now?" Tony asked, smiling widely as they prepared to board the plane.

"It's not fit for polite company, Tony!" Tim called over the roar of the engines.

"You weren't sailing, McGee! You were floating," Gibbs shouted over his shoulder. "You need a sail in order to go sailing!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Boss!"

When they were all comfortably settled in their seats, Tim leaned back. He wasn't fully recovered yet, but a few more days' rest would see him back to normal. He looked out the window as they flew over the Atlantic...and a song came into his head – the same song he'd been singing so hopelessly a day ago. He sang it very softly.

"Show me the way to go home
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
I had a little drink about an hour ago
And it went right to my head
Where ever I may roam
On land or sea or foam
You will always hear me singing this song
Show me the way to go home."

When he finished, he looked back and saw Gibbs staring at him. He smiled and shrugged, slightly embarrassed.

Gibbs pointed. "Home is that way, McGee."

"Yeah, Boss. I know." I'm going home.

FINIS!