Ducky was waiting outside when Tim left Tony's room. The nurse had returned, informing both of them that Tony needed to rest and that he could have more visitors the next day. Tim promised he'd be there and even promised he would sit through the first two Godfather movies with Tony.

"I hope all is well?" Ducky asked.

Tim nodded. He had a strange look on his face. "Yeah…it was good. I needed that."

"I agree. I'm glad you came. Shall we go home?"

"No."

"No?"

"Not yet. I still have to do one more thing."

"And what is that?"

Tim was silent. He didn't want to say what it was; he knew Ducky wouldn't approve.

Ducky waited patiently for Tim to respond. He saw the abashed expression cross Tim's face and it clicked in his mind. "Timothy, no," he said firmly.

"I have to."

"You do not have to. You need to leave well enough alone."

"I have to know, Ducky. I have to understand why."

"You know why, as unpleasant as it may be. I don't think this will do you any good."

"Maybe not, but…but I know I need this, just like I needed to talk to Tony." Seeing the older man's concern, he added, "I need closure, Ducky. I promise I won't be long."

"She is a manipulator," he warned. "Be very careful. You must not let her get into your mind."

"I won't, I promise."

"Would you prefer I come in with you?"

Tim shook his head. "I want to do this alone."

"Are you certain?"

"I'm not a kid, Ducky. I can handle it."

Ducky sighed in resignation. "Yes…I suppose so." He wasn't happy with Tim's bizarre request, but he knew he could do nothing to stop it. Tim's jaw was tightly set in determination. He didn't have the same stubborn streak that many of his co-workers had, but when he wanted something badly enough, he made sure he got his way. This was one of those times. "I will wait outside should you need me. And, Timothy, be alert: Miss Schultz has become physically aggressive many times in the past few days. I don't recommend getting within arm's length."

Tim had no intention of getting any closer to her than necessary. He wasn't even sure why he had decided this was so important to him. If someone had asked him to visit with her even two hours prior, he would have balked. But now it seemed like the only answer, the only way to truly move on from this.

There was nothing on TV. Not that it mattered to Imogene. She wasn't a big fan of television. She preferred to be alone with her own thoughts; they were far more entertaining.

The handcuffs were beginning to chaff, something that was further exacerbated by her constant yanking at them, trying in as many different ways she could think to slip them off. So far she'd had no luck. But she wasn't a quitter.

She heard the door knob turn. It was probably that buck-toothed nurse coming in to check her wound. With luck, she could grab a scalpel and jab it into the nurse's chest. She didn't particularly hate the nurse, nor did she particularly like her, but she needed to get the pent up anger out. Besides, with the nurse incapacitated, she might stand a chance at getting out.

When the door opened, her eyes darkened; for the person standing before her wasn't some ugly nurse, but, rather, the person who, in one split second, had gone from being the love of her life to being the bane of her existence. He looked just as he had that night. The only difference was that the bags under his eyes seemed to have gotten larger.

She hoped it was because of her.

"What the hell do you want?"

Tim stood in a stony silence, not sure what to say to her. His mind was a smorgasbord of emotions, ranging from anger to fear to sympathy even. She looked quite pitiful lying there in the hospital bed, locked in place by the twin handcuffs.

"Are you going to talk or are you just going to stand there?" she asked with a snarl.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why did you do those things?"

Imogene rolled her eyes. "I told you. I did it for you. And now I wish I hadn't. I wish I'd just left you to the wolves. No good deed goes unpunished, huh?"

Tim almost choked in response to her comment. "G-good deed? Are you kidding me? How can you think that what you did was in any way a good deed?"

"I was performing a public service," she snapped back in retaliation. "Those men were monsters and they deserved to be put down."

"They were human beings, not animals."

"Whatever."

"No, not 'whatever.' What you did was wrong."

"And you think you have no part in it? You're the reason all of this started, remember? I'd never have known about these men if it wasn't for you."

Tim felt his resolve crumbling, felt that same self-consciousness rising up inside of him. But he stopped it just in time. He wasn't going to give her the upper-hand.

"I never asked you to do these things."

"Maybe not verbally, but you implied it."

"How?" he asked. "How did I ever give you the impression that I wanted you to kill people? Until last Friday, I had only ever talked to you once for all of three minutes."

She snorted. "Fine, deny it all you want. But you were asking for my help. The way you looked at me? The way you talked to me? You wanted me just as much as I wanted you. You saw that I was vulnerable and you used me to do your dirty work. Now I'm the one paying the price."

"You're delusional," he said softly. "I feel sorry for you."

"Fuck you and your pity. I don't need you to feel sorry for me. I feel sorry for any woman who has the misfortune of crossing paths with you. You'll use her just like you used me. I hope you cross the wrong woman one day, though; the kind who won't hesitate before putting a bullet in your brain."

He winced at the thought.

"So am I to assume you just came here to torture me? To show me how stupid I was to fall in love with you?"

"You didn't fall in love with me. I think you fell in love with the idea of me, maybe, but not with me. You couldn't have. You don't even know me."

"I know everything about you."

"But you don't know me. If you did, you'd never have done the things you did."

She twisted her mouth into a frown, not sure how to respond to that. She usually had a quick retort to any comment, but this one left her at a loss. "Do you dream about me?" she asked.

"Sometimes."

"Don't lie."

"Every time I've slept these past few days."

"Good. I hope I never leave your dreams."

"You will."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Just a…a gut feeling I've got." He had a half-smile on his face, more to himself than to her. "I'm going to get past this."

"So why are you here?"

The answer came to him then. "Because…" He stopped and brought his eyes up to meet hers with a steady gaze. "Because I wanted to see that the monster really wasn't that scary."

With that, he turned and walked out, ignoring the barbs she threw behind him.

Ducky smiled at him wearily as he exited. "Now, shall we go home?"

"Yeah, Ducky. My home."

The last time he'd been inside his apartment, Tim had been lying on the floor with a wounded Imogene nearby and an unconscious Tony tied to the bed. Entering the place now seemed almost surreal, like something out of a dream. It looked…normal. Not at all like a recent crime scene. Abby and Kate had both come in and cleaned. They'd also taken the liberty of stocking his fridge so he wouldn't have to head out anywhere for at least a week.

"You don't have to stay here the night, McGee." It wasn't Ducky voicing his concerns this time, but Gibbs. He'd helped Tim pack the few items that had been brought to Ducky's house and had given him a ride back to his apartment.

"I'll have to eventually," he said with a wry grin "I mean, it's my apartment and I'm still paying rent on it. I may as well use it."

"But it doesn't have to be this soon. You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

"I'm not doing it to prove anything, boss. I just want to get on with my life."

Gibbs couldn't fault him for that. In fact, he gave Tim a lopsided grin and a gentle pat on the back. "Far be it from me to try and talk you out of it."

Tim dropped his bag at his bedroom door. He looked longingly at his bed. It was late and he was tired, not just from the day, but from the past few days, from the very moment they'd found Wickmar's body.

"Promise you'll call if you have any problems."

"I promise."

When Gibbs was gone, Tim kicked off his shoes and fell onto the bed. There were new sheets to replace the ones that had been bloodied. He would have to thank Abby or Kate or whomever had done that for him. The last thing he needed was a reminder of what had occurred atop this bed.

He reached his hand into the pocket of his pants and felt the paper that was still there. The names Dr. Clayton had given him. He'd meant to throw it away, but he hadn't, despite having many opportunities to do so. Even now, he couldn't bring himself to toss it out. Deep down, he knew why, even if he didn't want to admit it. Slowly, he drew the paper out and placed it on the night table, right beside his cell phone. He'd call the next morning. He promised himself he would.

After slipping off his clothes, he slid under the covers. He hadn't the courage to turn out the lamp yet, but he had checked to make sure the window was closed and locked. Just in case.

As he slept, he dreamt of her again, but it was different. She wasn't the aggressor anymore; she was just a sad person, grasping at any straws available, trying to make herself happy by any means possible. Tim couldn't even get past the pity he felt to even fear her.

It wasn't perfect, but for now it would do.

AN: And that's the end of this story! Thank you all for reading and reviewing. Just to let you know, there is a sequel in the works for this, so keep an eye out for that!