4

He stood behind the glass so transfixed that the Gibbs' infamous seventh sense didn't pick up the presence of his most trusted agent. McGee cleared his throat. "Dee is finally asleep. Probably the last good sleep either one of us will get for another 18 years."

Gibbs nodded, the ghost of a smile on his face. His eyes were still glued to the boy and girl in the ICU.

Tim touched the glass. "They are early and underweight. Going to be here for about a week. Kills me that I can't be in there every minute. I got some weird, heavy feelings right now. I've cried, laughed, and I'm scared as hell all at the same time."

"It's been a day, Tim. You're a dad, but before that, you were a hostage, and then you watched a good man die."

McGee wiped at his eyes. "I sort of can't control my emotions right now."

Gibbs chuckled, patted his back, and went back to staring through the glass.

McGee sniffed and blinked back tears. "What do you see when you look in there?"

"Probably what you see, Tim," Gibbs shrugged. "Two of the most beautiful and lucky kids in the world."

McGee watched him. "You sure that's all you see?"

They knew each other well, but two months on the same concrete floor had deepened their bond to the point that a simple movement expressed a mood, and so when Gibbs stiffened slightly, McGee felt the discomfort acutely. "Sorry Boss. Didn't mean anything."

Gibbs shook his head. "Sometimes, we went days without food. I know I hallucinated."

"Still no reason for me to bring anything up. Those were your private thoughts."

Gibbs looked at him. "No. It's okay. Talking is good. And I don't need to have secrets from you. Don't trust anyone more than you in the entire world."

McGee's eyes got wet again and he grimaced. "God, I can't stop the waterworks for the anything."

Gibbs laughed. "Don't worry about it, Tim. There is nothing like looking at your child for the very first time."

McGee scrubbed at his face. "Were you seeing her when you looked in there?"

"Kelly? Shannon?" Gibbs sighed. "I'm sure I talked about them a lot when we went without food. They are never far from my thoughts."

McGee nodded. "Of course."

"The problem I'm having tonight is that time is a devil. I'm trying to remember that little face and those tiny fists, and the look on Shannon's face when she saw her daughter for the first time, and it feels like it's all fading. It's been so many years. I can't quite picture her in the nursery. And I'm trying so hard. Do you realize that if Kelly was alive, she'd be only 5 years younger than you?"

McGee said nothing. The thought of losing these tiny miracles was more than he could process. He felt moisture pooling in his eyes and he blinked madly.

"You going to start leaking again?" Gibbs gave him an amused look.

McGee shrugged.

"You should go get some sleep, Tim."

He shook his head. "I came down for a reason."

"They're doing fine. The nurses are doing a good job."

McGee looked at him. "I came down here because I knew you'd be here."

Gibbs' eyebrows went up. "Really?"

"Figured you were still here. You need less sleep than any human I've ever met."

"Okay. And you figured I was done here trying to remember the night Kelly was born?"

"I just figured you were here."

Gibbs nodded. "Alright. So, what can I do for you? Your leave starts now. I don't want you to worry about a thing. We got it."

"Not worried about that. With the kids here in the hospital, I am going to stagger my leave so I can start it full time when they get home."

"Perfect. Not a problem. Consider it approved."

McGee nodded. "Still not why I came looking for you."

Gibbs shook his head. "How long you going to keep me in suspense?"

"I want to tell you a story."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Okay."

"Been thinking about this so…just let me tell it."

"Not standing in your way."

McGee sighed. "I was kind of a lonely kid. I liked computers and reading. Plus, I was, you know, a geek. Didn't make friends easy. And then there was the responsibility of being the man. Seriously. Dad would always tell me that I needed to be the man, and I thought that meant something. I tried to help mom and I ran herd over Sarah. And believe me, she needed it."

Gibbs studied him carefully but said nothing.

"When my dad would leave, I used to get a twinge of excitement. I hate to admit it, but it was the truth. You see my dad didn't get along with my grandpa Nelson McGee. Apparently, it's a family tradition to have complicated relationships with your father." McGee shook his head. Grandpa Nelson was a retired admiral, and when my dad went to sea, Grandpa Nelson could come and visit."

McGee sighed. "I loved him like crazy. He was amazing. He'd take me fishing or we'd go explore the Navy yard at Bethesda or we'd just go to a park and walk. I could tell him anything. No pressure. He believed I was exactly the kid I was supposed to be."

"Unlike your dad."

Tim nodded. "We both know he wanted the best for me. He was just stuck about me needing to maintain the McGee legacy."

"You're not going to be your dad."

McGee shrugged. "I'm a lot like him."

Gibbs snorted. "Not in the ways that count when it comes to being a dad."

"I'm worried."

"Of course you are," Gibbs smiled. "You're you."

"My dad is dead. Delilah's dad has passed as well. Morgan and Johnny need a Grandpa Nelson. I'm not asking, Gibbs. I'm telling you that you're Grandpa Nelson."

Gibbs started to say something but stopped.

McGee squeezed his shoulder. "I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to be my dad, but there are going to be times that I'll need you to help me remember that."

Gibbs nodded. "We're already family, Tim."

"We're work family, Gibbs. I want my kids hanging over the couch looking out the window like I used to do when Grandpa Nelson came. I want them to know that they're going to see you at Christmas and that they can count on Grandpa Gibbs for trips to the park."

Gibbs' smiled but there was a color rising in his cheeks. "Sounds like you're looking for some cheap babysitting."

"I'm trying to formalize a thing here, Boss. I need my kids to have what I had."

"I'm touched, but it's not necessary, Tim. You're not going to be able to keep me away from these babies."

"Seriously?"

Gibbs locked his steel blue eyes with McGee. "We're not just work family, Tim. We survived what we did down in Paraguay only because we were family- the real kind- the kind that is together through all the joys and tragedies. I'm not here just feeling wrecked that I can't remember Kelly's first moments. I'm also feeling crazy excitement about what's coming for all of us."

McGee teared up again, but didn't look away. He pulled Gibbs in and hugged him tightly. Gibbs held him for a long moment. "Go get some sleep, Tim. I'm going to stay for a bit. Remember a little about what was and think about what's coming."

Tim pulled away, nodded, and then, in an odd move, ruffled Gibbs' hair. Then he turned, eyes red and wet, and headed for the elevator.

Gibbs turned back to the glass. He felt the moisture grow in his eyes. And when the first tear fell, he let it roll untouched.

The End