A/N: This was written as a semi-songfic for the NFA: I Need A Hero Challenge. McGee had to save Gibbs from certain death. I had too much fun with it probably. :)
Disclaimer I don't own NCIS or any character except the bad guys (as usual). I also don't own the "I Need A Hero" lyrics. Those belong to Bonnie Tyler. I'm not making money (pity) and I'm only doing it for fun.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The Inspiration of Bonnie Tyler
A solitary figured sat a computer doing incomprehensible things. His shoulders were hunched and he had effectively tuned out the world while he searched and searched for something that would tell him where Gibbs was. He couldn't figure it out. If whoever they were hadn't torched Gibbs' latest boat on his front lawn, no one would have realized there was something wrong. He had his own personal inspiration to help him out... he hoped it would work.
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight.
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light.
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life.
The music blared through Tim's headphones. He'd never admit to liking Bonnie Tyler, but that song just got to him. It was lame, but he had to admit that it was what he wanted to be. He wanted to be a hero. There was just nothing he could do to achieve that elusive goal, at least as far as this case was concerned. It seemed that the solution wouldn't be found in the computer, Tim's one specialty.
Tony and Ziva had gone chasing down a lead. It was a weak possibility, but Gibbs had now been missing for three days. They'd take anything. It had to be related to their latest case. Gibbs had become obsessed with finding who had killed the wife of a Marine. She had been living on base, and he had theorized that she had known something that was going on. Now, Gibbs was missing as well. He sighed. What they really needed was a break.
------------------------------------------------------
An hour later, he had given up on the computer, not even Bonnie Tyler had helped him, and was sitting listlessly when his phone rang. He jumped out of his seat before he realized what he was hearing. Immediately, he picked up the phone.
"McGee."
He winced as he heard a distinctive shriek that told him Ziva was doing the interrogation.
"Ziva?" he asked tremulously.
"McGee. Our lead panned out. My friend Zachary here is going to tell us what he knows. Aren't you, Zachary?"
Tim winced again as he heard a pleading voice, "I don't know anything! Please, stop!"
Ziva came back on the phone again. "As you may have noticed, Zachary is a little shy. We are trying to help him break," there was a pause and a crack to fit with her word, "out of his shell."
"Um, Ziva? I don't think that's legal. Where's Tony?"
"Don't ask, don't tell. Isn't that the code of the military, McGee? Tony is searching Zachary's car."
"That's the code regarding homosexuality, Ziva, not torture."
"There is no torture going on here, is there Zachary?"
Tim heard a softer voice whisper weakly, "Nope. No torture here."
"See?" she asked. "Now, Zachary. We know that you have information for us. Tell us quickly."
"They'll kill me," he whimpered.
"No," Ziva corrected cheerfully. "They might kill you. I will kill you if you do not help us and rest assured, it will not be painless."
Then, Tim heard Tony's voice. "Ziva, there's nothing in his car except for a knife with blood on it. It could be Gibbs'." Tony's voice became hard as he continued, "I'd really like to know."
"You hear that Zachary? Tony wants to know, too. I think McGee does as well. Don't you, McGee?"
"Uh, Ziva?"
"Don't you, McGee."
"Yes. I do, but..." Tim trailed off, knowing that Ziva would probably kill him if he didn't agree.
"We all want to know, Zachary. Tell us who has him."
More whimpers. Tim decided that he could go his whole life without knowing exactly what Ziva was doing and would probably sleep better for his ignorance.
"Jerome had him, last I saw."
"Jerome who?"
"I can't..." Zachary's voice broke off into another shriek. "Jerome Anders! Jerome Anders had him at his old house!"
"Did you get that name, McGee?"
"Yes. I got it." Tim put the name into the computer and got only one hit. Thank heavens for small favors. "It's not far from headquarters. I'll head over and scope the place out. I'll meet you two there."
"Don't mess this up, McGee," Ziva warned.
"I won't."
"See you there." Ziva hung up without saying good-bye.
Tim looked around, gathered up his stuff and headed out at a run.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The place looked deserted when Tim pulled up just north of the house. He got out and surreptitiously crept to the window. It was definitely not deserted inside. He was treated to a view that made what he had heard from his phone call with Ziva pale by comparison. Gibbs was chained to the wall by his hands and feet, suspended about six inches above the floor. Clad only in tattered pants, he was very obviously battered and bruised, but just as Tim started to fear that he might be dead already, he lifted his head and looked toward the door. It crashed open and Tim pulled back quickly to avoid detection.
"How did you know, Gibbs?" a man asked as he stepped in the room. "How did you know to look for me? Who have you been talking to?"
Somehow, Gibbs managed to smile at his captor. "Maybe I'm just... smarter than you, Anders."
Anders punched him hard in the stomach. "How did you know?" he screamed.
"What? Can't you accept that some people know more than you do, Anders?" Gibbs gave a breathy chuckle. "I know lots of people more intelligent than you... most of them work for me. You should be worried."
"Worried? Why?" he sneered.
"Because they'll find you and when they do, you'll wish you were dead."
"I don't see anyone here right now."
"Well, I don't think your eyes are any too good either," Gibbs said, his voice slurring into a slight Southern drawl. It was the first time Tim had ever heard Gibbs talk that way. It was interesting in a horrific kind of way.
Tim winced as Anders kicked Gibbs in the gut and then punched him a few times for good measure. At the same time, after he stopped, Tim could see that Gibbs had made him worried. Even chained to a wall and beaten to a bloody pulp, Gibbs could intimidate people. He was absolutely amazed.
"I'm going to walk around the house once, and if no one is here, then you die."
"Giving up already?" Gibbs taunted. "You people always did have a problem sticking it out." He leered, giving an already insulting statement more than a hint of innuendo. "I can see why they kicked you out of the Marine Corps. You'd have been an insult to the uniform."
Anders roared in anger and fell on Gibbs, beating him without mercy. "I hope your people are good at putting body parts together because that's all that'll be left of you!" Anders shouted. He ran out of the room and returned with a very scary-looking knife in his hand.
Tim looked around. "Come on, guys. Where are you?" Suddenly, incongruously, the words to the song he'd been listening to flashed in his mind.
Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods?
He straightened.
Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?
Tony and Ziva weren't here. He couldn't wait for them. Gibbs would die if he didn't do something.
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night, I toss and I turn and dream of what I need!
He couldn't live with himself if he hesitated again. Last time he had hesitated, Gibbs had at least been armed. Gibbs was the real hero, always ready to fight and always ready to take down an opponent. Tim knew he wasn't that kind of person, but he'd been trained by the best. He'd been trained by Gibbs. He didn't waste any more time thinking about what he would do. He ran toward the front door of the house, unconsciously humming the chorus of the song, hearing Bonnie Tyler screaming in his head.
The door was locked. With the adrenaline rushing through his veins, Tim hardly noticed. He tried the knob once and then kicked in the door. If he paused, Anders would either have time to hide or he would kill Gibbs. Tim didn't want to give him time to do either and he knew if he stopped think, nothing would get done. Once he got inside, he mentally mapped out the most likely route to the room where Gibbs and Anders were and proceeded. His mind was divided into about three different and individual lines of thought. One line was analyzing how long it would take him to get into the room, one was worrying about what he'd do when he got there, and the last was strangely rocking out to Bonnie Tyler. It was like he had his own soundtrack, his own theme song.
Up where the mountains meet the heavens above
Out where the lightning splits the sea
I could swear there was someone somewhere watching me.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Gibbs had held Anders off as long as possible, but now, as he looked into his crazed eyes, he knew it was over. They just hadn't had enough time to find him. Ah well. It had been a good run. Might as well go out in style.
"Hey, Anders..." he cut off as he heard the front door slam open. There was no shout of "NCIS!" or anything, just a soft humming. What was that song and who was humming it?
Through the wind and the chill and the rain
And the storm and the flood
I can feel his approach like a fire in my blood.
Anders turned, distracted by the same sounds. Then, the door burst open and Tim was there, with his gun drawn and his face a picture of concentration. Gibbs didn't even dare say anything encouraging for fear of distracting him. He was still humming that song, whatever it was, and Gibbs found himself ready to laugh at the strangeness of the situation... or maybe it was just blood loss.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Tim kicked open the door and found Anders, with his back to Gibbs, the knife still in his hand. For a moment, he couldn't think of what to do.
I need a hero!
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night!
Oh, yes. "NCIS! Drop your weapon!"
Anders didn't appear to hear him. He just laughed and said, "Dream on, kid. You're no hero!"
That smug and dismissive expression and the purposeful way he held the knife as he started to turn back to Gibbs sent another surge of adrenaline through Tim's body and his mental music ratcheted up a notch.
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight!
"Drop your weapon!" he shouted again. Anders ignored him and lifted the knife in the throwing stance Ziva had tried to teach them. Tim aimed and fired, seeing only Anders, only the man trying to kill his boss. Bonnie Tyler continued to scream in his head. He hit him in the shoulder, thinking that maybe he could just wound him, but Anders turned back to Tim with a shout, more of anger than of pain, and threw the knife toward him. Tim fired again just as the knife left Anders' fingers.
Still high on adrenaline, Tim felt a flash of fire on his arm but ignored it for the moment. He advanced on Anders cautiously, Gibbs forgotten as he checked to see that he was dead. The music was on the fade out section of the song. Just a lot of oohing. He nudged Anders with his foot. No response.
"I'm pretty sure he's dead, McGee."
Tim looked up, startled. "I wanted to be sure."
"That's all well and good," Gibbs replied, "but very few people survive head shots."
Tim looked at Gibbs in surprise. "Head shot? I never hit the head shots."
"Take a look if you don't believe me."
Tim turned Anders over. Sure enough: a head shot. Tim shuddered and then turned his full attention on Gibbs.
"Sorry, Boss. I'll get you down... somehow." Tim looked down and saw a key hanging from Anders' belt. He took it and tried it on the locks. Thankfully, it fit. He unlocked Gibbs' feet first and then his wrists. When he unlocked his left wrist, Gibbs put his hand on Tim's shoulder and Tim was surprised to feel how much pressure Gibbs needed to exert. He paused only for a second, though, and continued with the last lock. Gibbs almost collapsed onto Tim once all the restraints had been removed.
"Sorry, Boss. I got you," Tim said as he helped Gibbs down.
"Stop apologizing, McGee."
"Yes, Boss."
"See if you can find my shirt, please."
Tim nodded but first unassumingly helped Gibbs out of the room and into the hallway where there was an old beat up bench. He lowered Gibbs to the bench and went searching through the house. He found one shirt, an old Budweiser t-shirt.
"Um, Boss? This is the only one I could find."
"That's not my shirt."
"I'm sorry, Boss. There aren't any others." Tim hesitated. "Um, but I do have a shirt in my car."
"Why are you waiting then?"
"It's, uh, one of my MIT shirts. I wasn't sure if you'd want to wear it."
"Go get it, McGee!"
"Yes, Boss."
Tim ran to his car and grabbed the shirt. It was clean, thank goodness. He was back in under a minute, Gibbs still leaning on the bench.
"Here, Boss."
"Thanks, McGee." He pulled in on, wincing as he did so. "Now, help me out of here."
"Shouldn't we get an ambulance?"
"No. Just get me out of here. We can hang around until Ziva and Tony arrive. They are on their way, I assume?"
"Yes, Boss," Tim answered. He put out his arm and Gibbs levered himself onto his feet once more. They walked out of the house and over to Tim's car.
"That's far enough, McGee."
"Okay, Boss."
"He got you, didn't he, McGee." Gibbs pointed at Tim's arm.
"Oh." Tim looked at his arm and was surprised to see blood there. "It's just a scratch. I hadn't even noticed it."
"Adrenaline rush, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"So, what were you humming?"
"Humming, Boss?" Tim started to blush. He hadn't realized that the music was anywhere but in his head.
"Yes, you were humming as you came into the house. It distracted Anders almost as much as it distracted me."
"Oh."
"So what was it?"
Tim hedged. "J-Just a song I was listening to earlier."
"And that was?"
"'I Need A Hero' by Bonnie Tyler," he admitted, blushing more furiously.
Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Let me get this straight. You were getting ready to burst into a room with a crazed felon threatening me with a knife and you were humming an '80s song?"
"Y-Yes, Boss." Tim winced, expecting a head slap. He was, therefore, very surprised when Gibbs burst out laughing.
"Of all the songs I could imagine for an NCIS soundtrack, 'Holdin' Out For A Hero' is not even close to being on the list," Gibbs said.
Tim smiled, his blush fading a little. "I-I guess I find it something to aspire to."
"You would, wouldn't you, McGee," Gibbs said, but without any mockery, although he was still chuckling. "Well, you were the hero."
Tim laughed himself. "Thanks, Boss."
---------------------------------------------------------
Ziva and Tony pulled up a few minutes later with a very sad-looking thug in the back seat.
"Boss, are you okay?" Tony asked as he got out, noting with interest the shirt he was wearing.
Gibbs looked over at him, still laughing.
"I'm fine although there's a man in the house who is not."
Tony and Ziva looked at Gibbs, his many injuries quite obvious and Tim with a bandage on his arm, and then at each other.
Gibbs noted their glances and said, "Well, what took you two so long?" He levered himself up again and turned to Tim. "McGee! Coffee! Now!"
"Yes, Boss." Tim said.
Gibbs looked over at the other two. "You can process the crime scene. McGee and I are done for the day."
"Yes, Boss," Tony said, in confusion.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Once they got into the Porsche, Gibbs relaxed a little in the seat.
"We're not really getting coffee, are we, Boss?" Tim asked as he started the car.
"Of course we are, McGee. There's a nice coffee shop on the way to the hospital." At Tim's surprised look, he added, "I've been without coffee for three days. Do you really think that I'd go to the hospital first?"
Tim smiled.
"Now, put on your theme song."
Tim started laughing as he turned on his sound system. Of course, Bonnie Tyler was on it. Gibbs started to sing along and Tim joined in. They could barely get through the first line without laughing. Tim put the car in gear and they headed off, both laughing their heads off about the ridiculousness of the song.
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night.
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight.
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light.
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life.