Please read the note at the end of this.

Most of the time the MCRT will work on a case until they've figured out who the murderer was or who stole the cash - et cetera. But sometimes something came up that took precedence over everything else. Such as when a petty officer breaks into the home of an ex-girlfriend, threatens to kill her, shoots her in the leg and then ends up killing himself instead - and now her daughter is missing.

Gibbs had them all out of the building and in a car almost before they could blink - and speeding towards the address faster than his normal speed. Which meant he had two green-faced men stumbling out of the vehicle once they reached their destination. Ziva, of course, just thought she could've gotten them there faster.

So, it was the result of being nauseated that Tim hadn't recognized the drive, or the houses they were passing by. And he could be excused for not recognizing landscaping he had never seen in the front yard. But once they were inside the house, systematically going through each room, Tim realized where he was.

"Oh. Shit." He said, sitting down on the bed in the master bedroom. His legs had turned into the consistency of jelly and could no longer support him.

"What is it, McGee?" Tony said, poking his head out of the bathroom doorway. He had hoped to find Tim with a clue of some sort, but instead found his friend whitewashed and looking woozy.

"Probie!" he said, running to his side. His imagination flashed to a dozen different horrible things that might be going on with his friend. "You all right?" he asked, kneeling next to the bed.

Tim's mouth opened and closed in a futile attempt to tell Tony what was going on in his mind. A sudden sharp sting to his cheek brought the words back.

"Ouch, Tony!" Tim said, rubbing his reddened cheek.

"Sorry Probie, but you were a little out of it," Tony said, not really all that apologetic. He was more glad to see reality back in Tim's eyes.

But Tim ignored Tony and instead stood up and walked into the bathroom - his jelly-legs having been slapped out of him along with is inability to speak.

Tony hesitated for a moment before getting up and following him, and he found him on his knees next to the bathtub.

"Uh, McGee? What are you doing."

Tim didn't answer the question though. Instead he stood up and turned to Tony. "I think I know where the girl is," he said, and with that he brushed by Tony in the doorway of the bathroom and exited the bedroom.

Tony followed behind him - down the stairs, past the living room where Ducky and Jimmy were with the dead sailor, through the kitchen and down the stairs that lead into the basement. Tim walked past the laundry room, down a hallway and into a room that was being used as a rec room - with dart board on a hole-filled wall and air hockey table.

Tim stopped outside of a closet door. He eased the door open and then crouched and began speaking softly.

"Sweetheart, I know you're in there. My name is Tim McGee and I am a Navy cop. Your Mommy is okay and the bad man is gone. Your Mommy and Daddy are worried about you though. Can you come out?"

Tony moved over and peered around Tim's shoulder and saw no one in the closet. He was about to say so when a panel in the back of the closet began to move, and out popped a little girl of about five, who promptly jumped into Tim's arms.

As Tim straightened up and soothed the little girl in his arms it finally clicked for Tony. Either Tim was psychic - or he had been here before, and knew the home well enough to know there was a secret cubby hole in a closet in the basement.

As the weight of truth settled over Tony's shoulders he realized he was alone in the room, and he had no idea how long he had been standing there. He strode out of the room, up the stairs and got outside just in time to see Tim hand over the child to a man who was obviously her father. Tony ignored the frantically grateful thanks the man was showering over Tim and, grabbing Tim by the wrist, dragged the unresisting man around the side of the house and away from everyone else.

Tony saw the collapse happening and instead of stopping it he eased Tim's journey down to the ground, and followed him down as well, his own knees feeling a bit rubbery. They knelt there, knees-to-knees, Tony's hands gripping Tim's shoulders like they were his only link to reality.

"McGee - Tim - what is going on here?"

Tim looked up slowly, almost like he was just now realizing that Tony was there on the ground with him. And when he spoke, he spoke with the now-familiar tone he used when he spoke of things far off that never really happened.

"They decorated the bathroom in black and shades of gray rather than green - but the crack in the bathtub was the same - one that looks like Poseidon's trident. And they kept Abby's old coffin in that room in the basement. But she knows about the cubby hole and hides there during thunderstorms. She hates thunderstorms."

"She?" Tony asked, even though he was certain he already knew the answer.

"Gracie. My… his daughter."

And at that Tim crumbled and ended up with his forehead resting on Tony's shoulder. Tony hesitated for only a moment before wrapping Tim in a hug. He rubbed soothing circles across his back, unsure what to say to a man who just found out he had quite literally lived another life for three weeks - a life that was everything he had ever dreamed of - and now that life was as unattainable as a trip to Jupiter.

"What do I do, Tony?" Tim whispered several minutes later.

Tony's hands stalled as he tried to come up with an answer. But he realized there was no solution to this situation.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "But we'll figure it out - I promise."

Tim pushed away from Tony and nodded. Tony saw that his eyes - although quite red - were dry. He stood up and offered a hand to help Tim up, who gladly accepted it. When they reached the front of the house Tony made Tim sit in the car. Later Gibbs would be quite proud at the glare Tony gave him when he made a motion to make Tim get back to work. In the meantime though he sent a deadlier glare back, but one look at Tim made him decide to leave him alone, at least.

Later, Gibbs would spend a good portion of the drive back to headquarters sending looks to Tony in the rearview mirror that clearly said 'You will tell me what's going on.'

But Tony wouldn't, nor would Tim. There was no good way of telling your boss that you had somehow been magically transported to another dimension and while he was watching you fight through a coma you were for all intents and purposes playing with your daughter and laughing with your wife.

And Tony would not break Tim's confidence. Nor could he forget what he now knew. That in another dimension he and Ziva were together - blissfully in love. He didn't know how to live with that knowledge. He didn't know how to be around Ziva and not think about how he now knew that if things had been different, they could've been happy.

Later that night Tony showed up on Tim's doorstep with a six pack of beer in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other. Tim opened the door as if he knew he would be coming. They didn't start talking though until a quarter of the bottle of wine was gone and two beers were sloshing in Tony's stomach.

In the end - after barely a quarter of the wine was left and the sixth beer was opened but barely sipped at - they decided that the old cliché of taking it day-by-day would have to come into play for their situation. And that once one figured out how to live with such knowledge, would he please tell the other how it's done?

Reality stands at a multi-path crossroad every single second of every day. Once a path is chosen we cannot turn around and chose a different course. Rather we forge forward and hope that the next crossroad - the next choice - is one that will take us somewhere we would want to go.

Sometimes though, the course of your life lies not in the choices that you make, but in the choices that others make. Most of the time we don't realize when this happens. But when we do it's best to forget wondering about might-have-beens and the should've-could'ves.

When the universe screws up though and one person has to see - to live - a life that was never really theirs, then the universe owes it to them to correct the mistake.

Which was why the universe spent a good deal of its unending attention span on the life of one Timothy McGee, waiting for the moment when it could make a change that would set his life back on the path he should have been on all along.

But that? That is another story altogether.

Living With Never Was is complete - but the story isn't over! I came to the decision that I needed to split this story up. The story is starting to involve way more than Tim and - if you continue on to the sequel - you'll see that the entire focus of the story will change.

If you're satisfied with this ending then there is no need to move on to the sequel. But if you want more, then the sequel is called Living Never Was. (Okay, not so original with the titles, I know!)

If you're reading this as it's going up... then you only need to wait a little while for the first chapter of the sequel to be posted. It's written, I just need to get it up. (And - to give you fair warning - the chapter updates will be even fewer and further between then they were with this story.)

As for all of the reviewers out there: From the bottom of my heart - THANK YOU! You often made me chuckle and/or blush. But you always inspired me to write faster. (Yes, even during the longer periods between posting - I was writing, just not fast enough to get a chapter done!)

I wish I could thank each of you individually (and I am, in my mind) but I'm going to single three people out here:

.isabella.sabio and MoonlitInuko: At two different times during this whole process each of you just absolutely made my day because of something you said. Thank you!

alix33: I loved how you - nicely - pointed out my errors! I didn't make the changes here, but they were made in my master copy and on NFA. Thanks for reading so carefully - and thanks for your comments on the story itself!