It had gotten all a bit too much.
The team had received a call about a body on Bethesda that morning, and they were going to check it out. McGee had been left on the back side of the truck, as always, but this time it was extraordinary the way in which he was thrown around. After all those years he should had gotten used to it, but the truth was it felt even worse than the first time. And no one, had apologized to him, of course, and if he said something about it the others would call him a whiner, and probably laugh at him. So he had to stomach it as best as he could.
Something about the death they were investigating got to him specially. It was just a kid, a boy who had entered the navy only ten days ago and was filling some paperwork when he'd been shot, point blank. Like that, no warning, when he was just getting his life started. Such a sad thing….
The people he had to interrogate had been really rude and had refused to cooperate with him in the very least, so he came back empty handed. Gibbs blamed him for this, of course, asked him to do it over and get results and couple more impossible things due to the next two hours. All paired with that look of disapproval and disappointment. Great. Just great.
His team did not make his day any better. Tony's insistent talking and slightly hurtful jokes were more irritating than ever, Ziva seemed to be consciously ignoring him and Abby spent most of the time they shared talking about her new boyfriend. More joy.
Usually, Tim went on through days like that without any problems, hoping the next day would be better, trying not to give it much thought. But not today. No. He'd had enough. Enough of the laughter, enough of the mock, enough of the violence, of the death, of the endless hours of work and empty hours at home, of never being fast enough, or interesting enough, or being called boring, freak, you damn cop.
When Tim finally got home he locked his apartment door, and rested his head on the door. He knew being sad was useless. He knew tears wouldn't solve anything. He knew he should be stronger, and not let the bad stuff get so powerful. He knew that there were people out there who actually cared about him. He knew all of this things, but felt none of them. He only felt the lump in his throat getting bigger.
Deciding he deserved a bit of time for himself, Tim turned off his cell phone, disconnected the house number and every other way to contact him and threw himself face down on the couch, dead to the world.
Tomorrow it would be a better day, he told himself. He would help making justice for that poor boy, give his family some closure. He would make Gibbs tell him "good job, Tim". He would answer Tony's jokes with smarter jokes and be the winner of the battle of wits. He would ask Ziva if there was anything wrong. And he would tell Abby that, even if he was happy for her, knowing all those details kind of hurt. Yes, he would make everything all right. It was going to be a great day.
But the next morning came, and Timothy McGee was nowhere to be found.
A/N: What has happened to poor McGee? How will the rest of the team react? I hope you liked it! Pleaseeee tell what you think of the start of the story! You know you want to review!