Title: Dance with the Devil
Sequel to Bad Moon Rising, final part of the Truth series, for the Hope in the Darkness Challenge
Genre: Supernatural/Horror
Rating: T
Warnings: Violence, language, disturbing imagery
Characters: Tim, Gibbs and the rest of the team, previously used OC Wade and some new OCs
Summary: Tim and Wade deal with and pursue a possible cure for Tim's condition, while Gibbs and the rest of the team try to cope with Tim's absence. Can Gibbs prevent them from learning the truth? Starts about a week after the end of the previous story.
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own anything except my OCs.
Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?
The Joker, Batman
Chapter 1
Gibbs placed the well worn carving tool on his workbench and turned the small wooden object over in his hands, examining his handiwork. The miniature figurine that he had been working on for the past couple of hours was starting to take shape and he noted, not without some small satisfaction, that his skills were improving. His relative tranquility was brief, however, when he remembered why he had started the first of many such projects that now littered his workbench: It helped to keep his mind off of his current concern, his wayward agent and the circumstances that had led to his nearly two-week-long absence from the team. McGee only had two days left to his mandatory "vacation", and as the days had passed without word from his agent, Gibbs had grown even more concerned. He definitely owed the man a head-slap for breaking one of Gibbs' cardinal rules – never be unreachable – but at the same time the lead agent understood why. It had been hard enough for Gibbs to keep the rest of the team from trying to contact their friend, but if Tim had provided a working cell phone to track…Gibbs knew his job would have been that much more difficult. He just wished McGee had found some way of contacting him and letting him know the status of the "project" that started the whole thing.
Gibbs sighed. He had dealt with quite a bit himself over the past two weeks, although he had no delusions that his troubles had been greater than those of his agent. Most of the cases at Quantico had gone cold, much to the chagrin of Vance and the rest of Gibbs' team. The "dog" attack was written off as an isolated incident caused by the stray that had been – rather conveniently, Gibbs thought—dispatched and destroyed by a local. There had been some noise from the community leaders in the press about stricter animal control laws, but that had fizzled when no further incidents took place.
The attack on the Marine, however, had received greater attention, although the idea that they were looking for a homicidal human maniac had prevailed, much to Gibbs' relief. His team was, at least outwardly, toeing that line and had conducted their investigation accordingly, although Gibbs' knew their suspicions tended towards a less conventional explanation and was thankful that they hadn't voiced them to anyone except themselves.
The death of Sergeant DuChamp had proved to be the easiest of the cases to close, with all evidence pointing to suicide. Gibbs had his own suspicions about DuChamp's death, and he hated that the man's good name had suffered because of the outcome of their investigation, but there really was nothing he could do, other than keep the details out of the press and shelter the man's family from those details as well.
Gibbs was pulled from his musings by the ringing of his cell phone. He checked the number and almost didn't answer when he saw it was unlisted, but something told him to take the call.
"Yeah, Gibbs."
"Boss?" The voice on the other end was soft and hesitant, but still recognizable, and Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief as one of his unspoken fears was eliminated.
"McGee? You alright?"
"Boss, I…I need to talk to you."
"I'm at home. Door's unlocked." Gibbs kept his voice calm, although the worry he had held for McGee over the past couple of weeks was starting to resurface. He could hear a muffled exchange between his agent and another person and then McGee's voice returned.
"I can be there in about twenty minutes."
"I'll be here. What's going on, Tim?"
"I just…I'll tell you when I see you."
"McGee…" He started to demand an explanation when he realized that the call had disconnected. He closed his phone with a snap and stared at it, wondering just what it was that Tim couldn't tell him except in person. Finally he rose from his position at his workbench and slowly headed up the stairs to start a pot of coffee. He strongly suspected he'd need it before the night was over.
Twenty minutes later, Gibbs heard a soft knocking at the front door. "Come in, it's open." He heard the slight creak of the hinges and then footsteps in the hall. Two pairs of footsteps. He stiffened and reached for his gun that he now kept loaded and in full view while at home instead of locked away. Soon a figure emerged from the hallway and stood in the entrance to the living room. Gibbs stared at the large man in front of him and relaxed slightly when he finally recognized the intruder.
"Wade. Where's Tim?"
"Right behind me." He looked at the gun in Gibbs' hand. "And those things still make me a bit jumpy. Tim, too. You mind putting that away?"
Gibbs stood and carried the gun over to its storage case, opened the slide and removed the magazine before placing in the box and shutting the lid.
"Happy?"
"Nope, but that's a different issue. Come on in, Kid."
Soon the person Gibbs had been waiting to see joined Wade in the doorway, and when Gibbs saw him he stared at the younger man in shock.
"McGee? What in the hell happened to you?"
McGee was pale, paler than Gibbs had ever seen him, with dark circles under his eyes and hollowed cheeks, both of which spoke of sleepless nights and missed meals. His left arm was in a sling and he looked as if he was still in pain from whatever injury had incapacitated him.
"It's been…a rough couple of weeks, Boss."
Gibbs sense of worry increased and he expressed it in one of the few ways that worked for him: anger.
"Damn it, Tim, you were supposed to be staying safe. There's no way in hell you'll convince Vance or the Agency shrink to sign off—"
"I'm not coming back to work, Gibbs. Not…not now."
McGee's barely audible statement shocked Gibbs into silence. McGee hesitated for a moment before clarifying his statement.
"I…that is, uh, we… are going to need some more time."
Finally Gibbs managed to form a question. "It's still out there?"
"No, Boss. The…thing that killed Danny Smythe and Sergeant Armstrong, it's dead. We caught up to it about a week ago and…it's taken care of."
"Then what's the problem?"
"It wasn't alone," said Wade, breaking the silence he had maintained since McGee had started to explain.
"So…what? The other one has your scent now? You have to dodge it, too?"
"Right now, it's dodging us, or at least me. But no, we're not being stalked at the moment."
"I'll repeat: what's the problem?"
"After we, uh…took care of the one that had been hunting us, we thought it was over. We didn't know…there was another waiting for us back…back at the truck." Tim kept his gaze focused on the floor. "It caught us by surprise, and it attacked…me."
Suddenly the significance of what McGee was saying hit Gibbs full force and his breath caught in his throat. He didn't want to ask the next question, didn't want Tim to confirm the fear that was twisting its way through his heart.
"McGee…did it…?"
Tim carefully pulled his arm from its sling and pulled up the sleeve of the oversized jacket he was wearing. Gibbs saw the bandage that covered Tim's forearm and he felt the bile rise in his throat. He struggled to remain calm but it felt as if his heart had plummeted inside his chest.
"I'm sorry, Boss…I couldn't…I couldn't do anything to prevent it." He raised his head and finally met Gibbs' gaze. The devastation in his eyes was so profound that Gibbs felt his own crushing sense of loss, and he turned the anger that surged forth in its wake towards the only other available target.
"You were supposed to have his six!" He crossed the room in and instant and grabbed Wade's jacket in both fists. "You didn't do your damn job and-!"
"Boss, it wasn't his fault." Tim tried to come between the two men, but Wade held up a hand to stop him before looking down at Gibbs.
"You want to take a swing at me? Go ahead, if it will make you feel better, but it ain't gonna do a damn thing for your agent. You want to tell me how much I screwed up? It's sure as hell not gonna be any worse than anything I've told myself since it happened. But I am gonna fix this, if it's the last damn thing I do."
Gibbs froze at Wade's last statement and took a second to parse what the man had said.
"Fix it? You can…?" He let go of Wade's jacket and slowly took a step back.
"That's why we needed to talk to you, Boss," Tim replied, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two men. "We're going to need your help."
"How?"
"There's a way to treat the symptoms, and I have a line on a possible cure," Wade explained. "But neither one is quick or pleasant. We're going to need time…a lot more time, and Tim will have to be isolated. We need your help in presenting a cover story: a way to explain Tim's absence from NCIS and to keep everyone away."
"I kinda already did that."
"Yeah, but now I have something else set up. We just need you to sell it."
Gibbs turned to study the younger man who was watching his Boss with a nervous, yet hopeful expression in his eyes.
"How sure are you about this cure?" Gibbs hated to think that Tim, as well as himself, would be putting faith in something that could possibly only end in heartache.
"I have information from a very good source that the cure is genuine, and that it has worked before. I've seen enough snake-oil solutions on this job that I can recognize a real one when I see it."
Gibbs considered making a comment about Wade being able to see the threat that created the situation in the first place, but one more look at Tim stopped him. The poor kid didn't need anything else to upset him.
"What do you need me to do?"
He listened for the next few minutes as Wade explained what he had set up. Gibbs had to admit he was both surprised and slightly impressed with the cover that the older man had created in such a short amount of time.
"Somebody must have owed you one hell of a favor." Wade remained silent, but that was enough acknowledgment for Gibbs. "Alright. I'll do what you've asked."
"Thanks, Boss."
"Thank you, Agent Gibbs."
"I'm gonna need to talk to my agent alone for a minute."
McGee glanced at Wade, who nodded. "I'll wait for you in the truck, kid." He left and Gibbs turned to his agent.
"McGee…"
"I'm sorry, Boss. I wish…I wish there was some other way."
"You listen to me. You will get through this. Do you understand me? I…we are not losing you again. You will beat this thing. That's an order." Gibbs managed a slight smile after he had delivered that last statement, and received one from McGee in return.
"Yes, Boss."
He put both hands on McGee's shoulders, then reached up and gave him a gentle head-slap. "And if you ever do anything like this again…"
McGee nodded. "Got it, Boss."
"Good. Now go. Get some rest, Tim. You look like you need it."
"I'll try. Gibbs?"
"Yeah, Tim?"
"You guys…you guys are safe. No matter what happens…it was worth it." He gave Gibbs one last damp-eyed smile and left, gently shutting the door behind him.
Gibbs stood for a moment, going over everything in his mind before returning to the living room and sinking onto the sofa. He put his head in his hands and sighed, wondering how in the hell everything had gone so wrong, so fast.
TBC…
The deadline for this one is the end of the month, and then I'll get back to my WIPs.
