Epilogue

One year later...

Tim's phone started ringing as he was trying to get his keys out of his pocket...with both arms full of groceries, Jethro weaving excitedly around his legs...and a locked door in front of him. He struggled to get the key in the lock but the phone stopped ringing before he succeeded. Quickly, he opened the door, set the groceries down, tossed his keys on the counter and pulled out his phone.

One missed call.

He looked at the ID, but nothing came up. So it wasn't a person he worked with and it wasn't someone else...or some random guy dialing a wrong number. ...well, it could be someone dialing a wrong number.

His phone started ringing again. He answered on the first ring.

"McGee," he said.

"Watch the news tomorrow morning. On ZNN. It'll be there."

"Tobias?" he asked.

"ZNN."

Then, there was a click and Tim stared at his phone in surprise. That had definitely been Fornell. What was it?

Then, suddenly, he knew what it had to be. Slowly, he set his phone down and then sank onto a chair.

Tomorrow morning. That meant they were sitting on the release. How they had managed to do that was beyond his ken, but they had. Absently, his hand moved to his hip and he began to rub the scars he knew were still there.

Tomorrow.

He didn't really do anything for the rest of the night.

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

Tim woke up early the next morning and turned on the TV, tuning in to ZNN.

He only had to wait for about ten minutes.

"In breaking news, the FBI has released reports about an armed takedown of a domestic terror cell based in Los Angeles. The group allegedly had plans to destroy the United States Courthouse in Los Angeles as a protest of corruption in government. Matthias Terreton is on scene outside the FBI office in LA."

"Thanks, Lisa. The plans for this takedown go back three years when..."

Tim stared in avid fascination, not noticing the passage of time. He listened to the story of this group as they had developed and grown. ...but that wasn't what he cared about most. There was only one thing he wanted to hear.

There was a knock on his door as he watched, and he stood up only reluctantly, walking backwards to the door. When he got there, he looked through the peephole, remembering belatedly that no one was supposed to get in without being buzzed in by him. Then, he opened the door, revealing Fornell.

"It's on," he said unnecessarily.

"They say it yet?"

He shook his head.

"Go on back to it, then. It'll come."

Tim didn't wait. He went back and sat down in front of the TV, barely noticing when Fornell joined him. The history completed and the actual takedown explained, the newscaster in the studio began to ask some seemingly-extemporaneous questions.

"This group seems to have been working on these things for a long time, Matthias."

"They have. Allegedly, they're responsible for a plane crash two years ago. Members of various federal agencies were on their way back from a conference here in LA when an alleged member of this group tried to crash the plane in order to stop them from giving information to the FBI about their movements. He failed to do that, but four people on the plane were killed trying to stop him."

"I remember that. It was said to be the work of one man."

"Yes, but the FBI now is claiming that he was a part of this group and the deaths were due to their intention to take down parts of the U.S. government."

"What does that mean for these people?"

"Well, I asked FBI spokesman, John Miles, about that very thing, and he says that they were heroes. The public just didn't know that, and now their sacrifices can be revealed."

"I'm sure that's some comfort to their families. Thank you, Matthias in LA. I'm sure you'll have more information for us."

"Lots more as the day goes on, Lisa."

Tim reached out and turned off the TV.

"That enough, Tim?" Fornell asked.

Tim smiled. "Almost."

"It'll never be really enough, you know."

"I know. I try not to think about it much."

"Good. Don't."

"Easier said than done."

"I know."

"How?"

"You think you're the first person to be obsessed about getting justice?"

Tim was quiet for a moment.

"How did you get over it?"

"Day by day. That's all you can do."

Tim looked at his watch. "I'm going to be late."

"Yep. You can blame it on me. Gibbs wouldn't be surprised."

Tim laughed. "He'd know I was lying."

"Sure, but he wouldn't mind laying the blame on me. My last act as an FBI agent."

Tim turned to Fornell in surprise. "What?"

"Retirement. Thank goodness. I stayed on a bit longer than I'd planned originally, but now I'm ready. I'm giving my notice as soon as I can."

Fornell met Tim's concerned gaze and just grinned mischievously.

"Thank you, Tobias."

"My pleasure. You'd better get to work...and so should I. I don't want to give my bosses any excuse to cut off my funds...or at least no more excuses than I've already given them."

Fornell got up easily and walked to the door. He paused and looked back.

"Take it from one who knows, kid. You've got more than a lot of people get. Let it go."

"I'll work on it."

"As long as you do that, you'll succeed." He walked out the door.

Tim stared at the closed door for a long moment and then he took a breath and finished getting ready for work. He pet Jethro and, on his way out the door, called the walker and let her know that he hadn't had a chance to walk Jethro at all; so he'd be extra frisky today.

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

"Probie's late!" Tony announced when Tim got off the elevator.

"Fornell's fault," Tim said in return.

"Fornell? Why?" Ziva asked.

"He stopped by my apartment. Distracted me."

"Doing what?"

Tim shrugged and pointed to ZNN which was rerunning the story from that morning. Tony and Ziva both looked at it for a few seconds and then back at him.

"You all right, McGee?" Tony asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?" Ziva asked.

"Positive. I'm not...great, but I'm okay. This is what I wanted."

"Not really."

"Close enough...and since I'm late, I'm sure I have work to do."

"Always work to do," Gibbs said, breezing through the bullpen. He paused right by Tim. "This works for you?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does. Maybe in a few months, I'll be able to say that and really mean it."

Gibbs smiled briefly and then continued on with the day. No one mentioned it at all the rest of the day (well, Abby did, but only for a moment)...and Tim liked it that way. It was better not to dwell on it. He was glad to have some resolution, but he needed to move on.

After work, the others persuaded him to join them for drinks even though he wanted to go home. He enjoyed himself for a while and then extricated himself from their well-meaning clutches. He went back to his apartment, fawned over Jethro for a while to make up for neglecting him earlier.

Then, he went to his computer and opened up a file. It was one he'd avoided for quite some time, knowing that there could easily be a negative effect on him if he focused on it.

It was a folder of pictures. Not many. Just a few from the conference. Johnson, being the newbie she was, had brought a camera along and insisted that they pose at various moments. Then, she had emailed them to everyone. Tim had opened them and promptly filed them away. Out of sight. Out of mind. Now, he opened them and flipped through, smiling as he remembered their antics.

He stopped on one, a picture of the five DC geeks. There they were, grinning like idiots at someone who'd been willing to take their picture. Tim had thought it silly at the time, but now...

...now, he was glad he had the pictures.

"It's over, guys," he said softly. "It's finally over."

...and it was. The story was finished as far as Tim was concerned. It still wasn't ever going to be what he really wanted, but it was what it had to be...

The end.

FINIS!