If you're not familiar with my Tim sagas, take a peek at my profile on fan fic net for my personal Tim McGee canon. I also have a group of original characters that usually appear, but I'll only use a few in this one. Some of them have already appeared in the first three chapters, NCIS agents Rick Carter, Jim O'Brien as well as former shelter manager Luella (Lu) Morgan and the pack of friends who are really Tim's extended family, brothers, including Rob, Geordie, Bill, Barry, Freddie and Jose (aka Joe). There are a few new OCs in this story but with the possible exception of the two agents on Tim's team, they'll only be in this story. So…don't worry about the names, please!

Notes in the Key of Life

Chapter 1

Tim McGee crouched down, retrieving yet another piece of evidence in Gibbs' living room, or what had been his living room. It was a mess, the entire first floor, a large portion of the staircase to the second floor, the stairs to the basement and the basement itself were shot to hell. Worse, there was blood in the basement and although there wasn't a lot, it still meant someone had been hit. This wasn't the first time Gibbs' house had been attacked but to Tim it felt worse and he wasn't sure why.

Grimacing when his phone chimed, he looked at the caller ID, quickly accepting the call from Bethesda Hospital, his gut roiling and his heart thumping. He was on Gibbs' notification list when he was injured. He'd moved up the list as first Ziva, then Tony, then Abby left. Ducky was the first one on the list and since their return from Paraguay, Tim was second. Gibbs trusted them to notify the Director.

What he heard on the call was far more personal and in shock, he turned to leave, catching the eye of Evan Fuller. With the house as damaged as it was, Tim had asked for Fuller's help. He no longer felt he could trust Bishop to do the job as thoroughly as it should be. She had a disturbing tendency to reach her own conclusions without voicing or discussing them with anyone else and go haring off on her own.

As he ran out the door, he called out, "Fuller, you're in charge. Bishop, Torres, do what he says. I have a family emergency."

Torres opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he saw his Senior Field Agent's face. Instead he turned and nodded to Fuller.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

Tim prayed all the way to the hospital. For once there were no crashes, no construction zones shutting down lanes and he covered the 24 miles in 37 minutes, a personal best.

Once there, he found a parking space within a block of the entrance, another rare occurrence. In the lobby, he was told his wife was being prepared for surgery and he was needed to formally identify the other victim of the accident. A police officer escorted him to the morgue. After seeing his badge and agency ID, he told Tim what he could about the accident.

"From what I know, the other car blew a red light and was trying to turn left from the cross street, ramming into your wife's vehicle as she turned left from the main street onto the other side of the cross street. Your wife must have seen him, looks like she might have sped up, so the hit wasn't square on the front passenger side of the car. However, the other woman, your mother-in-law?" Tim nodded and the man continued, "Still took most of the impact. I'm sorry."

"Was she declared dead at the scene or here?"

"Here."

They walked into the outer and then inner doors of the morgue. Thankfully feeling numb, Tim identified his mother-in-law, Elizabeth Ava Brown Fielding Sprague, and signed all the forms, selecting the Slater Funeral Home for her funeral. That was Breena's family's business and he knew they would take good care of everything. Asking for a moment, he stood by Elizabeth's body, praying for his wife who'd been badly injured in the crash.

When he turned to go, he was handed his mother-in-law's personal effects. He asked to leave them at the morgue as his wife was in surgery and he wouldn't leave the hospital until she was at least in recovery. He did remove the contents of her wallet, driver's license, health insurance cards, money, credit cards, a gift card they'd given her for her birthday last month, photos of the twins, a sheet of postage stamps, coupons and a somewhat tattered lottery ticket, leaving the rest to be temporarily stored.

The officer walked him back up to the lobby where a volunteer gave him directions to the waiting room for those who had family or friends in surgery.

Before he went upstairs, he made a few calls. One to Director Vance to let him know he would be here at the hospital for several hours, another to Delilah's boss at the Department of Defense, a third call to Mrs. Webster, who took care of the twins when neither Tim nor Delilah could get home before the daycare closed, a fourth call to Jimmy, with Ducky also listening in, to tell him about Elizabeth and his hope that the Slaters would take care of her. The next call was to Gibbs' cell but no one answered. He left a message, although he didn't tell him about the accident.

His last call, for now, was to Luella Morgan in Baltimore. The manager of the shelter he and his siblings had stayed in during their childhood remained a good friend, known as 'Grandma Lu' to the twins, and he didn't want to be alone. When Lu heard the news, she said she'd be there in a half hour.

With both his sister and younger brother studying in the UK, Tim decided to send them an email later, once he knew Delilah's condition. The call from the hospital said 'critically' injured and he prayed that the shrapnel still embedded in her body from the Gala attack hadn't been affected.

While he waited, he returned to the first floor, checking to ensure Gibbs had not been admitted here. His badge and his name on the man's medical notification list helped with that and he walked away at least knowing Gibbs hadn't been a patient here.

Before going back upstairs, he spotted a coffee cart outside and bought a large cup of dark brew. Finally in the waiting room, he picked up a magazine he used to read regularly, before the twins were born. Now he couldn't focus on it and was glad when Lu arrived, surprised and happy to see his friend Bill, the quietest of their extended family, with her.

Both gave him hugs and Bill handed him a tablet.

"Here, that's mine. My girlfriend left hers the other night so I brought that for me."

Tim nodded. Lu pulled out a Kindle and the three of them sat down together, trying to keep busy as they waited.

Ten minutes later, Tim stood up again and Bill went out into the corridor with him. "Want to talk about what happened?"

"You know Dee's mom died in the crash?"

"Yes, Lu told me. I'm sorry, she was a nice lady."

Tim nodded, "Thanks, she was and I loved her, so did the twins."

"Any chance you'll take some time to go see the kids?"

"I thought about it but it takes too long to get back and forth. They're at the day care center until 1800, then Mrs. Webster will pick them up and take them home with her. They've done that several times so I'm hoping they won't be upset, or more upset than usual. She'll send a text when they're at her place and I'll call them, have some FaceTime with them. I hope I'll know more about Delilah by then, so I can tell them when she's coming home. They might only be two years old, or just about, but they always seem to know when there's something going on."

"Smart kids, get that from their parents."

The two men looked up, startled at the comment, to find Ducky standing there. "I had to come, Timothy. Hello, Bill. Has there been any word yet?"

"No, Ducky. I'm glad you're here."

"Since she's not an employee of NCIS, I don't know if I'll be given the same courtesies I have been in the past, but I'll try. With any luck, her employment with the DoD will help."

"Thank you."

Ducky patted his arm, nodding to Bill as he turned away.

When Lu joined the two men, Tim told the others what he knew about the accident. As they were quietly talking, Delilah's boss called, hoping for news and wanting to help in any way. Tim told him about Ducky's mission to find information and thanked him for his offer of help.

"I don't know what all this is going to mean; how long she'll be here or off work."

"Don't worry about that, Tim. We'll always have work for her, you, too, should you ever decide to leave NCIS. I just meant, well, you're right, you won't know until the doctors give you more information."

"I'll let you know."

They disconnected, Tim running his hands through his hair. Biting back a smile, Bill, taller by a couple of inches, patted it back down again.

All three sighed in relief when the elevator disgorged Ducky. He hurried to them, "Let's find somewhere with some privacy."

Tim didn't like the sound of that but obediently followed his friend. When the good doctor updated him with the information he'd been given, Tim stared at him. "The shrapnel? What are they doing with it?"

"Very carefully trying to manipulate it away from her organs without doing any further damage. Timothy, I'm afraid this is much more serious than we thought. If they're not able to move enough pieces away from her internal organs, those pieces left will damage them."

"And she'll die if or when they damage her heart or kidneys."

"Or a few other scenarios, yes, my friend, I'm so sorry."

"Ducky, if they can't do it here, is there someone somewhere, a specialist, who can help? It's been a few years since her original injury, maybe there's been progress?"

"I don't know, Timothy. We can certainly pursue that. Now, they've stabilized or repaired her other injuries, her left ear was torn where it slammed into the window next to her, her right arm and foot are broken, several ribs are cracked or fractured and parts of the right lobe of her lungs are badly bruised. If they're successful in moving the shrapnel, then her surgery will run several more hours, as long as her vitals remain stable. If they're not successful, she'll be in recovery within 90 minutes."

"And then what?"

"We'll search for that specialist and pray that there is another means of helping her."

Tim thanked his friend, realizing how hard it must have been for the older man to hear and then have to relay the news. Already sitting, Tim buried his head in his hands. He knew he wasn't alone but right now he needed Gibbs. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on praying for his beleaguered wife, his children and his missing and possibly injured boss.

By the time Tim left the hospital late that night, he knew the worst. The shrapnel from Benham Parsa's attack was once again threatening her life and this time no one knew if there was any way to help. When he and Ducky asked about a specialist, one of the surgeons' frown had deepened. He finally said he'd read an article about a surgeon having some success removing shrapnel but would have to do some research to find it again. Once home and on his laptop, Tim quickly found the information online and read everything he could find on the doctor and the surgeries. The man's success was limited and he was particular about what patients he would treat. However, he did exist and he had saved lives. Not caring if he was ignoring niceties or medical protocols, Tim sent the man an email, begging him to review Delilah's case and operate on her.

After he'd sent that, he was calmer, continuing to pray for help. He sent an update to Director Vance, there was no way he could return to work in the morning, probably not the rest of the week. He saw and spoke with his children using FaceTime, reading them two stories, listened to them say their prayers and watched Mrs. Webster tuck them in. In the morning, he'd pick them up and spend part of the day with them. Then he'd take them to day care or to Mrs. Webster's. He'd already been told Delilah would be kept sedated for at least today and probably tomorrow.

Breena called to confirm that they'd transported Delilah's mother's body to the mortuary. When she asked about a service, he realized he had no idea what to do or when to have it, even who to invite. Dee would want to be there which didn't seem possible anytime soon. He finally told Breena he had no idea; he'd have to wait until his wife was conscious and well enough to think about a funeral for her mother. He knew Elizabeth didn't have any other relatives, the woman's only sibling had died the year before he met Dee and her husband, Dee's stepfather, died shortly after Dee returned from Dubai. Dee's father was alive, he was Fielding and the 'Charles' of Tim's son's middle name. Tim would call him.

By the time the twins were 18 months old, their personalities were becoming more established and they were learning new words seemingly every hour. Morgan, named for the man who'd sacrificed his life the day she was born, announced she didn't like her name and wanted to be called 'Lizbethanny' from now on. Eventually, she'd changed that to 'Lizbet' with 'Annie' as a second middle name. Accordingly, her name was now Morgan Lizbet Annie McGee. She also declared that her brother should be called 'Jace', pronounced 'Jase', for John Charles. The little boy, previously called 'Johnny', happily agreed. And so the twins became Jace and Lizzie, or Bets, although the little girl preferred Lizbet.

Tim's morning with the kids flew by too fast. He picked them up before they'd eaten breakfast, took them home and made them their favorite, scrambled eggs with cinnamon toast. He always cracked up with the cinnamon as his son and daughter called it 'cimmamen'. That was all right, they didn't have some of their sounds right yet. They called one grandmother Gwama Wiz and the other one Gwama Wu. So far, the only grandparent name they could pronounce was 'Poppy', Gibbs' name.

Explaining Delilah's absence was not easy, Tim told them their mommy had been hurt and was in the hospital. They knew about hospitals, they'd visited Mrs. Webster when she had her gall bladder out last summer. When told their mommy would be sleeping for a couple of days, they nodded, they remembered Mrs. Webster doing that too.

One of the things Tim did the night before was research kids' grief, what to tell them about Grandma Liz and how to help them. He'd also ordered a few books for more guidance. Mrs. Webster also offered to help. A retired preschool teacher, she was also the mother of 3 young adults and she hoped grandchildren were in her future. She teased that she was learning how to be a grandmother by taking care of the twins.

Remembering that, Tim took his babies back to her home in time for their afternoon nap, helping them lie down and cuddle with their favorite plush toys. Waiting until they'd dozed off, he sat down for a cup of coffee with Mrs. W. Telling her about the specialist on whom he was pinning all his hopes, Tim also asked her advice about the service for his mother-in-law. While Elizabeth didn't have relatives, she had close friends in Chicago, where she lived, and Tim realized now that he needed to let someone know. Her best friend was named Missy, 'Aunt Missy' to Dee. They had her contact information somewhere at home, he'd let her know and ask her to notify the others.

Finally Tim pried himself away from his sleeping children and drove to the hospital. As he parked and walked to the entrance, he was surprised to be joined by Director Vance. "Timothy, how are you doing?"

"I'm…I really don't know, sir. Maybe numb? Did Ducky tell you about Dee?"

"With your permission, yes. I made a phone call or two, that specialist you found is a former Navy physician. Have you heard back from him yet?"

Tim quickly checked his email before shaking his head. "Not yet. Is there any word about Gibbs?"

"No, sorry. Although we have confirmed his visitor was Ziva."

"I know he wasn't seen as a patient here. I'm on his notification and medical proxy lists so I was able to get that information. I hope that means he isn't injured and not that he's ignoring his injuries or went somewhere else."

"I also hope that he's able to make those decisions, McGee. From what recent information I've heard about Ziva, she's…well let's say she's changed a great deal. Or maybe reverted to her former self."

Tim took a deep breath, muttering something rude in Hebrew no less, about his former teammate. "I wish I could help but…"

"You have your hands full as it is. How are the kids?"

"They're upset that Dee's hurt, can't come home and they can't come to see her. And I haven't told them about their grandmother yet. I did some research about handling kids' grief and fears when they're so young but I still don't know how I'm going to tell them. I know what I need to say but not how because until I know more about Dee, I can't give them the time they'll need."

"Perhaps you could ask Mrs. Webster or Ms. Morgan for help."

Tim nodded, he liked the idea of asking Grandma Lu. He just hoped the kids didn't ask for their poppy.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

The answer from the specialist came that afternoon, a conditional 'yes'. He wanted to talk with his potential patient but when told she was still sedated, he settled for speaking with Tim, at least until Delilah recovered consciousness.

The doctor wanted to know Delilah's general outlook and health prior to the accident and what she'd done since the bombing. Tim told him about Dubai, their marriage, her pregnancy and delivery of the twins. He also talked about her work, although nothing too specific. He gave him the contact information for Dee's boss and then sent the man a text that a potential medical specialist for Delilah might be contacting him.

Told that Dee wouldn't be weaned off the sedation until early the next morning, Tim picked up their little ones and took them home. While they were playing in their backyard, Tim sat outside watching them. Finding the contact information for Aunt Missy, he called her. She was horrified at the news about Liz and her honorary niece Delilah. Once she understood the situation, she asked if Tim would consider having Liz shipped home so her friends could give her a proper farewell. Knowing it would be weeks, if ever, before Dee could attend any kind of service, Tim agreed. He'd already discussed the idea with Mrs. Slater, Breena's mother, Lu and Mrs. Webster and all approved, saying that seemed the best solution and the kindest thing Tim could do for his mother-in-law.

Once that was in the works, Tim could concentrate on his wife and children. Friday morning when Tim arrived at the hospital, Dee was beginning to wake. He spoke softly to her as she struggled to regain full consciousness, the medical staff close at hand to provide help as needed.

Once she was fully awake, the medical staff evaluated her, assessing her pain levels. After she was given enough pain meds to be somewhat comfortable, she looked at her husband.

"Did we get hit by a car?"

"Yes, sweetie. The other driver was drunk and ran the red light, hit you broadside."

"Mom! She was with me, is she all right?"

"I'm so sorry, Delilah, she didn't make it." He comforted her the best he could, telling her about Breena taking care of Elizabeth and her Aunty Missy's request for her friend to be returned home.

"Did you agree?"

"Yes, I did. I didn't know how soon you'd be able to attend a service or feel like putting anything together and I felt it was what Liz would want."

"Do you know when their service will be?"

"I don't, but I'll find out. Maybe we can attend via FaceTime or Skype."

"I won't be able to go? Not even if it's next week?"

Tim shook his head. "No, hon. You have broken bones, fractured ribs and a badly contused lung. Your body is pretty messed up."

Her primary physician walked in. "Excuse me. Good morning, Delilah, I'm glad to see you awake."

"Thanks, Dr. Brady."

"I was sorry to hear about your mother."

"Tim just told me, I'm still in shock."

"I can imagine. Now, despite the sad news, you, Tim and I have some things to talk about as soon as possible. I need to tell you what's going on with your body and make sure you understand. Then I believe there are decisions to be made."

Tim wanted to scream at her to stop talking! She'd just awakened to find her mother was dead, couldn't she have a few minutes to mourn her, to let the news seep in? He opened his mouth to object but it was too late.

Dee looked at the doctor, frowning, her face still wet with the tears she'd shed for her mother. Gently Tim wiped them away, kissing her.

The doctor explained her new reality. Because of the accident, the shrapnel still in her body now threatened her internal organs and bodily functions even more than it had before the accident. The surgeons had tried their best but what they'd done hadn't been enough.

Basically, as she explained it, Dee's options were limited. Tim had found a specialist, a former Navy surgeon, in Southern California who had some success in removing shrapnel . Dee smiled at that, trust her Tim to find someone who could help. Dr. Brady emphasized that this was very risky surgery, that the survival rates were low.

Dee blinked, saying, "Ok, so that's surgery. What are my other options?"

Tim swallowed hard as the doctor explained that to prevent the shrapnel from shifting again, she would be confined to a hospital bed.

"Forever? How will I live? What about uh, hygiene?"

"You'll have a catheter and aides who will take care of your other bodily functions."

"Aides? You mean I'd have to wear a diaper."

"Yes."

"Could I sit up?"

"You'd be able to sit up a bit, enough to eat but not enough to drink without a straw."

"Can I safely move my arms to hold my kids? They're only 2, they're not going to understand not to bounce on the bed and crawl on me! And I'm their mom, I'm not giving that up!"

"You can move your arms a bit, you'll have training so you'll know what movement is safe and what isn't. Two is young but not too young to learn."

"Would I have to be in a nursing home?"

"You'll need aides and nurses 24/7. Most people's health insurance won't pay for in-home care for an unlimited time."

Dee stared at the woman, "I feel like you're condemning me to life imprisonment in a hospital bed."

Brady nodded, "Our estimates are 18 to 24 months before the shrapnel damages your internal organs beyond repair."

Tim was crying and all he wanted to do was take his wife into his arms to comfort her. But he couldn't because that would hurt her even more.

Delilah looked at him, then tugged on his hand to get him to move closer. "Okay, let's go back to the risky surgery. How many patients have survived, what are the doctor's statistics?"

Tim told her, including the doctor's response to his email and his request to interview her. "He selects his patients, says they have to have the right attitude."

Dee raised her elegant eyebrows, "If having no other viable options is the right attitude to be a candidate for surgery, that's me."

"All right, we'll call him today."

"As soon as possible, Tim. What day is it?"

"Friday."

Delilah frowned and then looked at her doctor. "Is it okay to move my head?"

"Yes."

"Good. Honey, let's call him now, so we can get things moving. And can I please see the kids?"

The doctor nodded, "Yes, as long as Tim or another adult supervises them."

"Tim, what about work?"

Looking confused, he finally said, "Yours or mine? Your boss knows and said not to worry, your job will be yours as long as you want. And I'm on leave, Dee."

"All week?"

"Since the accident, yes."

She smiled, "I love you so much."

With a smile, he leaned in to kiss her. Dee looked up after they parted, "Dr. Brady, no sex either, right?"

"Right, sorry."

Tim wanted to laugh when Dee muttered that the risky surgery was sounding better every minute. But he didn't because he was terrified.

By 1400, Delilah and the shrapnel surgeon, Dr. Ogden, had spoken and the specialist agreed to take Dee's case. As there was a fair amount of pre-surgery work to do, he asked that she be in San Diego no later than Tuesday with her first surgery scheduled for Thursday. To somewhat alleviate the risk, Dr. Ogden had decided to do at least three surgeries, with several weeks between for recovery.

This story is dedicated to my sister.