A/N: This is part four of my selkie series (Call of the Sea, On My Journey Home, Not a Wave of Trouble Roll). It's been a long time since I started it. I had a hard time getting it going but I knew it needed to be written. Tim's life and experience as a selkie was just something I felt needed one last bit. So this is the final part of the series (unless something really makes me come back to it).

Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever owned NCIS. I haven't watched the show in more than a year and I'm pretty sure they won't ever turn Tim into a selkie on the show. :) I'm not making money on this.

Before the Shining Shore
by Enthusiastic Fish

Chapter 1

The waves moved up and down, up and down. He moved with the rhythm of the waves, smoothly swimming, now below, now above. A deep breath and then down to the bottom. The dark waters beckoned to him, called him to come back.

He reached out, hopelessly...

Tim woke up to his alarm, after an extremely restless night. He felt awful. He couldn't get comfortable and he felt like he might have a fever.

He groaned.

"I can't go to work like this," he mumbled. "I feel terrible."

He didn't like to call in sick, but this was a day for it. First, he called HR (the only people who scared him more than Gibbs did) and reported his illness, telling them he was taking a sick day. Then, he braced himself for calling Gibbs. The phone rang twice.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, it's McGee," Tim said. "I woke up sick, today. I think I've got a fever. I couldn't sleep all night. I've already reported it to HR."

"You can't come in?"

"If I did, I'd be worthless," Tim said. "Honestly, Boss, I feel terrible."

"You need a hospital?"

"I hope not. I'm planning on staying in bed all day. If I still feel bad tonight, I'll see a doctor. Otherwise, I'm hoping it's just a passing thing. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

There was a pause. Tim knew Gibbs was deciding whether or not to force him to come to work.

"Fine."

"Thanks, Boss," Tim said.

Gibbs just grunted and hung up. It was a typical response. Tim wasn't surprised by it. He dragged himself out of bed to shower, hoping that would make him feel better. (It didn't.) Then, he dragged himself back to bed. He rested there before dragging himself to the kitchen to eat something, hoping that would help him feel better. (It didn't.) Then, it was back to bed with a glass of water and crushed ice and some saltines. His plan currently consisted of sleeping and watching TV. That would probably be the best medicine for whatever ailed him.

Tim slept through most of the morning, but around noon, there was a loud knock at his door.

He sat up and groaned, regretting the quick movement.

Another loud knock. Tim groaned again, thinking he knew who it was. Finally, he got out of bed and walked to the door. He looked through the peephole.

One more groan and he opened the door.

"What do you want, Tony?" Tim asked.

Tony smiled. "I'm just checking up on you, and you're not looking so hot, McGee."

"I'm feeling plenty hot," Tim said. "It's not that bad. I'm hoping it's just a minor thing and I'll be fine tomorrow."

"Yeah, but you're a little gray. It's not a good look for you."

Tim laughed tiredly. "I don't plan on keeping it. I slept all morning, and I'd still be sleeping now if you weren't here to check on me."

Tony laughed, too, and held up a sack. "Well, I did come bearing gifts. Gibbs didn't say that you were throwing up or anything..."

"No. Just feverish and tired."

"Then, I brought you something to eat for lunch. Nothing heavy or anything. But if you're sick, you should eat something."

"I'm not very hungry."

"Then, don't eat very much."

There was plenty of logic in that.

"Okay. Come in."

Tim stood back and let Tony come in.

"You can get back in bed, Tim. I'll bring it in."

"Okay."

Tim didn't bother protesting. He walked back to his room and crawled back into bed. Tony came in.

"It's soup, so don't spill," he said.

"Maybe I should get up and eat in the kitchen," Tim said, sitting up. "I don't want to spill on my sheets."

"No. You can handle it," Tony said. "I think you should stay down."

Tim leaned back, glad that Tony had stopped him.

Tony rigged up a lapboard for Tim and then set out the soup and bread he'd brought. It looked wonderful and Tim ate it all.

"I thought you weren't hungry," Tony said, grinning.

"I guess I was. Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it. Now, I'd like to go back to sleep."

"Sure. I can see when I'm not wanted."

Tim just smiled as Tony took away the remains of lunch. Once he could, he lay down and curled up under his blankets. The TV was on, playing something he wasn't paying attention to, but the sound was nice. He closed his eyes, ready to sleep again.

"If you aren't feeling better tonight, you'd better let us know, Probie," Tony said.

Tim didn't even open his eyes.

"Yeah, sure," he said.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Tim mumbled.

"Sweet dreams," Tony said.

"Yeah."

Tim knew Tony could let himself out, so he abandoned himself to sleep.

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

"How was he?" Ziva asked.

"Definitely sick, but it didn't seem too serious unless it lasts," Tony said, settling at his desk. "He ate everything I brought."

"That is good," Ziva said.

Gibbs walked in, raising a silent eyebrow.

"He really is sick, Boss," Tony said. "He's not faking it, and he wasn't acting weird. Just sick."

Gibbs nodded.

"I'm going to check on him tonight after work."

"I will come with you," Ziva said.

Tony nodded and they all got back to work.

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

Swimming through the ocean. It was home. The water was cool and smooth as he slipped effortlessly through it. Stroke after stroke. Deeper and deeper. Then, up to the surface, breathing in the salty air. One breath and then back down.

Freedom. Home. He strove to get there...

"Tim?"

A hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Hey, Probie. You alive?"

Tim reluctantly pulled himself away from the wonderful and yet painful dreams, opening his eyes just long enough to see Tony and Ziva standing over him. Ziva had a hand on his forehead.

"How did you get in?" he mumbled.

"Take a wild guess, Probie."

"What're you doing here?" he asked.

"You have a fever, McGee," Ziva said, sounding concerned. "Has it been like this all day?"

"Don't know. Was asleep through most of it," Tim said. He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, thinking that Tony and Ziva would just disappear.

The hand on his shoulder wouldn't let him.

"Tim, I think it is time to go to a doctor."

Tim shook his head.

"No. Just tired. Want to sleep."

He closed his eyes and tried to roll away again. Again, he was prevented. In fact, the hand started pulling him to sit up.

"Nope. It's time to get a checkup, Tim," Tony said. "Up and at 'em."

Tim let them pull him upright.

"Come on. Just tired, guys." It was really hard to wake up.

"Then, you can sleep at the hospital."

"Yeah, that's so much better than my comfy bed here," he mumbled.

Still, they seemed determined, so Tim let them urge him out of bed, out of his apartment and into a car. He didn't pay attention to whose it was. He fell asleep on the drive over, but they woke him up again to go into the hospital ER. Tim sat down between them and fell asleep again, leaning on one or the other of them. He couldn't tell which.

Then, he was being nudged to wake up yet again.

"Come on, Tim. It's your turn."

"I want to go back to bed," Tim said, petulantly.

"After this. I promise."

Tim let himself be led to an exam room where they let him lay down again. He fell asleep.

"Mr. McGee? Can you open your eyes for me?"

Tim blinked a few times and saw an older man looking at him.

"Very good. Now, just follow my finger with your eyes."

Tim did as he said, but he really just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Any other problems besides the fever?" he asked.

"Tired," Tim said.

"He said that he'd been sleeping all day." That was Tony. "And he didn't seem so bad when I brought him lunch in the afternoon."

"So the fever came first and then the drowsiness? Is that right, Mr. McGee?"

Tim yawned and shrugged. He tried to engage with the conversation.

"Don't know. I felt blah this morning. Called in sick and slept most of the day."

"Okay. Well, the fever is a little high and this drowsiness does have me concerned. I think we should do some tests."

"Don't wanna take a test," Tim said. "I want to sleep."

"You don't have to take a test, Mr. McGee. Feel free to go back to sleep, but we will be drawing some blood."

Tim heard the words but he was already letting himself fall asleep and the meaning was lost. He closed his eyes and lay back.

"Make sure you use the right crayon. No maroon for blood."

There was a chuckle.

"I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"Gray. Like a seal..." Tim said and fell asleep.

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

Tony and Ziva looked and Tim and then at the doctor, very concerned.

"What's wrong with him?" Tony asked. "I swear he was mostly coherent this afternoon. He ate some soup and went back to sleep. What's going on?"

"I'm not sure, but we'll get started on trying to figure it out. Given the situation, I think it would be best to admit him for tonight. We'll re-evaluate in the morning."

"It seems strange that it would be so sudden," Ziva said. "It seems to have come out of nowhere."

"Fevers can be like that. Usually a fever is a response to infection, but there are plenty of other causes and we'll check them. If he awakens tomorrow feeling better, it may end up being idiopathic."

"Meaning?" Tony asked.

"Meaning that we don't know the cause. But we'll work on it. For now, we'll get him into a room."

"Okay."

Tim was quickly moved out of the exam room and into a regular room. They put him on an IV, because some of his symptoms were similar to that of dehydration, even though he had not expressed any particular thirst. After all that was done, Tony and Ziva looked at each other and then at Tim who was still asleep.

"This reminds me of that night," Ziva said. "Only not so bad."

Tony knew what night she meant and he nodded.

"But he didn't say he was burning and why would it be happening again? What caused it couldn't happen again."

"I do not know. It just seems very strange to me."

"Do you want to call Gibbs or should I?"

Ziva smiled a little. "Since it is not our fault, either one of us can do it, but I will, and you can drive me back to my car."

Tony nodded and followed Ziva out of the room. They left the hospital and Tony listened as Ziva called to tell Gibbs that Tim would very likely not be back to work in the morning. She hung up after a minute or two and looked at him.

"What did he say?" Tony asked.

"Very little. Just that he would make sure Tim is on sick leave."

"Was he worried?"

"Probably, but he did not say so."

"Yeah. Would he ever say so?"

"No."

"All right. I'll stop by tomorrow morning and check on him, see if he's improved."

"Okay. Good night, Tim," Ziva said.

Then, they left.

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

For two days, Tim slept and woke in the hospital. The fever had not abated and the doctors were completely stumped. Tim missed most of it. He would wake up, complain about being hot and tired and then go back to sleep. The others were worried, especially when he started mumbling about the sea in his sleep. He didn't seem distressed, just irritable.

Tony went to visit before work on the third day and got a major shock.

Tim was awake, alert and smiling.

"Hey, Tony. They said you'd probably come by. In fact, they said you were here a lot. Sorry that I didn't notice."

"McGee! You're conscious and coherent!"

Tim grinned and nodded. He still looked a little gray, but his eyes were clear.

"Yeah. They said that my fever started going down around midnight. I feel like new, but they're not letting me leave yet."

"Well, it's been two days, Probie. You don't just shrug that off."

Tim shrugged. "I would if they'd let me, but they won't, so I'll wait until they do. I hope it's soon."

The door opened and a nurse came in.

"Good morning, Mr. McGee. Still chipper, I see."

"Yes. I feel great. I get that you don't want to risk a relapse or anything, but I'm fine, now!"

"Let us determine that."

Tim sighed but submitted as the nurse took his temperature and did some simple tests of Tim's brain function. He passed with flying colors.

"Your temperature is still a bit elevated, and it's obvious that your body was responding to something, Mr. McGee. But you are doing much better. It was surprisingly quick, I must say, and I'm glad to see it. We're going to keep you here for a few more hours. Your doctor will want to do a final check before he lets you leave, but if you continue on this track, I don't see any reason why you wouldn't be allowed to go."

"Excellent. I guess I'll try to be a patient patient, then."

The nurse chuckled and left.

"See?" Tim said. "I'm almost better. I'm sorry that I worried you guys so much. Really, for me, it was all a blur. I know that I woke up a number of times, but nothing really penetrated beyond that."

Tony sat down on the edge of Tim's bed and looked at him, closely. Tim definitely looked better. He seemed almost completely recovered, but there was something not quite right. Tony just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Is something wrong, Tim?"

"No. Something is finally right. Why?"

"I don't know. Something just seems a little off, a little different."

"I don't know what to tell you. But thanks for dragging me here. Ziva was there, too, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she was."

"I really appreciate it. I probably needed to be in the hospital, but I was too tired to realize it."

"Well, then, you just need to realize that you should stay here until they let you go."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just impatient," Tim said and smiled. Then, he looked down.

"What is it?"

"Thanks, Tony," Tim said, his voice low. "You guys have been there for me through a lot of things. This was pretty minor, but it's still something else you were here for."

"Hey, don't start getting all mushy, Tim. We're friends. That's what friends do. That's all."

"I know."

Tim looked up and smiled.

"Don't worry. I'm done."

"Good. I've got to get to work, but call us when you get out. We'll give you a ride home."

"Okay."

Tony left, thrilled that Tim was suddenly better but still feeling that there was something going on that he didn't get.

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

"Well, Mr. McGee, you defy medical explanation."

Tim smiled at his doctor.

"I try. You have no idea what happened?"

"None. The closest was dehydration, and I think that was part of it, but that wasn't really right, either. What I want from you is a promise that if your symptoms come back, you'll come back. We don't have any reason to keep you here, but you need to take it easy for the next couple of days and be aware of what's happening. Fevers like this could recur, especially when we don't know what caused them in the first place. Promise?"

"Cross my heart," Tim said.

The doctor chuckled and signed Tim out.

Tim managed to get home on his own. Because Tony had insisted that he call for a ride, Tim had tried, but they were all out at a crime scene. Quite frankly, Tim was relieved. He wanted to get home without anyone feeling like they had to stay with him.

He got a taxi, rode home and then went into his apartment and into the bathroom. Quickly, he took off his clothes and turned around so that he could look at his back, although he didn't really need to look at it. He had felt it.

There was a large gray patch in the middle of his back. He had discovered it when he had awakened in the middle of the night before everyone else had realized he was on the road to recovery. He hadn't told anyone about it and had been relieved to get into his own clothes (with backs on them) without any witnesses.

But now, alone his apartment, he looked at his back and took a deep breath before tentatively touching the edge of it.

He knew what it was.

His seal skin was growing back.