Set immediately after Witness.
With Kate and DiNozzo having left for the evening, McGee is finishing off his letter to Erin's parents.
A McGee-centric gen story.
Written: August 2008. Word count: 569.
McGee gave a heartfelt sigh of relief as, still arguing with one another, Kate and DiNozzo left the office.
Finally he had some much needed peace to allow him to finish the letter to Erin's parents.
When he'd started it, it had seemed like a good idea. In fact, it had seemed like the only thing he could do; the thing he wanted to do.
Now he wasn't so sure.
What did he say to them?
What did he say to the parents whose daughter had died because she had witnessed a crime and done the 'right thing' by reporting it?
What did he say to the parents whose daughter had died because she had witnessed a crime and he, Timothy McGee a trained Federal Agent, had failed to save her life?
Should he be even be a Federal Agent?
He had, after all, made one of the most basic mistakes when he'd gone to Erin's aid: he had failed to clear the room. Kate had told him it wasn't his fault Erin was dead, and he knew that, he knew that really, but it doesn't help.
If you’re going to shoot him, you should have done it while he was running! Clearly, too clearly, he heard Gibbs's words in his head. Had he really, even for a second, contemplated killing Pryor? Was that who he was? Is that why he'd become a Federal Agent?
Gibbs! Suddenly he realized his boss was still there. What would he think about him writing a sympathy letter? It wasn't the kind of thing Gibbs did; the kind of thing Gibbs would even consider doing. It wasn't the kind of thing DiNozzo would do, or even Kate. Was it the kind of thing a Federal Agent did?
He looked up and found Gibbs watching him. He swallowed hard. "Boss, I was just –"
"Writing a sympathy letter. Yeah, know that, McGee." Gibbs tone was not his harsh or sardonic one.
"You don't mind?"
"Why should I?"
"Well, it's not the kind of thing Federal Agents usually do, is it, boss? Tony would never –"
"You're not, Tony, Tim. Remember that. You're different and that's okay."
McGee swallowed again. "Er, yes, boss. The problem is, I'm not sure I can –"
"McGee. You got your report right first time. If anyone can write a sympathy letter, you can." And with those words, Gibbs stood up and grabbed his coat. "See you in the morning, McGee."
"Yes, boss. And thank you." But the last two words were said to an empty space where Gibbs had hitherto been.
Suddenly the right words came and McGee bent his head and returned to writing the letter.
Yes, he should be a Federal Agent. He might not yet be, he wasn't, as good a one as DiNozzo or Kate, but he was getting there. He was doing okay. After all, test or not, Gibbs had trusted him enough to send him to interview Erin in the first place. And had then accepted his word when he'd told him they should roll.
He was doing okay.
With the words coming easily and quickly, he finished the letter; read it through one more time; signed his name, put it into and envelope and addressed it. Then taking it with him, he wanted to post it himself, he picked up his own coat, turned off his desk lamp and left the building.
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