Disclaimer:- NCIS and its characters do not belong to me and any copyright infringement is unintentional.
A/N - This story was created for one purpose - entertainment. The first chapter is the lead-in and the next will have a lighter, more humorous overtone.
McSticks and Stones
The ding of the elevator drew the anxious medical examiner like a moth to a flame. Silently urging the doors to open quickly, he sighed in relief as the woman he was waiting for stepped from the car.
"Dr Mallard," she greeted with a cordial smile.
"Doctor Cranston, thank you for coming at such a late hour," he replied taking her elbow and leading her further down the corridor. "It's this way."
"Gibbs' message was typically short on detail," Doctor Rachel Cranston replied. "Care to fill me in?"
"I'm afraid we are still attempting to fit the pieces of this dreadful puzzle together," he said walking with such urgency that Rachel struggled to keep pace. "To the best of my knowledge, neighbors heard a gunshot and called 911. Fortunately, Metro PD was in the vicinity and were able to gain control of the situation before my expertise was required rather than yours."
"Did they give you any indication what caused this?" Rachel asked.
"I'm afraid not, my dear," Ducky said. "According to the officers' report, our young man was in such a blind rage that it took two of them to subdue him until the EMT's could arrive and sedate him."
"Have you talked to him?"
"Both Jethro and I attempted to speak with him, however, our presence seemed to deepen his agitation," he said, concern etched deeply on his face. "He is completely overwrought, quite…lachrymose, if you will. Of course, I do not have your experience in such matters, my dear, but it appears as though the lad may have suffered some form of emotional breakdown."
"What's the condition of the victim?"
"Thankfully, the bullet just grazed his bicep, however, he took a rather forceful blow to the head," Ducky replied. "He regained consciousness a few moments before you arrived."
"And?"
"As you can imagine, he is quite shaken. Jethro and the doctor are with him now," Ducky said with a nod towards the door. "They're in here."
Ducky opened the door and steered the psychologist inside. From where they stood by the door, the patient was blocked from their view as the young resident finished his examination.
"You're lucky," the resident said. "Couple of inches to the right and instead of sutures and a sling we'd be fitting you for a body bag. There's no sign of concussion but you've got yourself a sizable lump on the back of your head. I'll get you something for your headache and then you're free to go."
"Thanks, Doc," the familiar voice replied.
The resident nodded a silent acknowledgment to the others as he left the room and Rachel's brow furrowed in confusion as she recognized the man on the bed.
"Doctor Kate's sister," Tony greeted with a forced smile. "I had a feeling we'd be seeing you before too long."
Rachel turned to Ducky.
"I thought you said he had to be restrained and sedated?"
"I gotta tell ya, Doc, I'm a little hurt,' Tony said attempting to hide behind the humor. "Ducky tells you someone's lost their marbles and you automatically assume it's me?"
"I do apologize for the confusion, Doctor, but Anthony is the victim…not the perpetrator," Ducky clarified.
"I don't understand," Rachel said. "If it's not Tony, then who is it?"
Tony's eyes darted quickly to his boss as they exchanged a sobering glance. Walking to the far end of the room, Gibbs drew back the curtain revealing a one-way window into a padded cell. With an audible gasp, Rachel recognized the man mumbling to himself as he rocked back and forth rhythmically. His red-rimmed eyes darted wildly around the room as if he was expecting someone or something to jump out at him. Unable to hide her shock she exclaimed.
"McGee?"
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Gibbs reached for Tony's jaw and tilted his head toward the light to gauge his pupil response for himself. He listened intently as his agent continued his passionless recital of the events that occurred earlier that evening. The absence of the younger man's usual flamboyant personality was a definite indication that the attempt on his life, at the hands of his partner and friend, had shaken Tony to the core.
After closing a long and difficult case, he and McGee had decided to meet later that evening for a meal and a few drinks. Agreeing that McGee would swing by Tony's apartment to pick him up, they'd left the Navy Yard separately. Exhibiting his usual punctuality, McGee had knocked on Tony's door at precisely twenty-one hundred but Tony had been running late. He opened the door and told McGee to make himself at home while he finished dressing. As he made his way back to the bedroom he heard the distinct metallic click of a safety being released.
"I turned back and McGee was holding a gun on me," Tony said quietly. "At first I thought it was some kind of joke, I mean, this was McGee, right?"
"What happened next?" Gibbs prompted.
"I asked him what was going on but he wasn't making any sense. Said that I had it coming and he was gonna kill me. I saw his finger tighten on the trigger and I made a grab for the gun…it went off. We struggled, I managed to disarm him; told him to stand down but he kept coming."
Tony raised his hand to the back of his head and hissed as his fingers made contact with the large lump behind his ear.
"Last thing I remember before the lights went out is Metro PD kicking in my door."
"Cops who broke down the door said McGee made a lunge at you," Gibbs said, filling in the blanks. "You cracked your head on the coffee table…was all they could do to keep him from killing you."
Tony turned to face his team leader, the confusion clearly evident in his eyes.
"Boss, I swear I don't know what caused this."
"You're sure he was fine when you saw him last?" Rachel asked.
Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose trying to stem the throbbing headache.
"He was fine, he was normal, he was…he was McGee."
"Whatever happened to trigger this obviously happened between leaving the Navy Yard and arriving at your apartment," Rachel concluded.
"Trigger?" Gibbs asked.
"From Tony's description it sounds like McGee may have had what we refer to as a psychotic break."
"Psychotic?" Tony repeated. "McGee? No way!"
"Many things can cause temporary psychosis, environmental triggers, such as losing a loved one or excessive stress. You said yourself that you'd just closed a difficult case…sometimes, when reality becomes unbearable the mind just breaks with it. There may have been a pre-existing vulnerability that we-"
"DiNozzo's right," Gibbs said dismissively. "Not McGee."
Rachel folded her arms across her chest defensively at the agents' refusal to consider all possibilities. Meeting Gibbs' hard stare with one of her own, she continued.
"There was no family history of mental illness when I reviewed his file for my team evaluation."
"Mental illness!" Tony exclaimed. "Come on, Doc, this is McGee! Dependable, responsible, can-hack-a-computer-with-one-brain-tied-behind-his-back, McGee! Whatever this is, it is not mental illness!"
"Then how do you explain the fact that he tried to kill you tonight?" Rachel asked Tony. "How do you explain that?"
Rachel pointed to the padded room where McGee's body heaved in shoulder-shaking sobs. With his eyes never leaving his partner, Tony's face paled noticeably and he stepped away from the glass, visibly shaken.
"There's gotta be another explanation," Gibbs insisted.
"Okay…we'll need to rule out excessive alcohol, drugs, fever…" Rachel replied.
"Timothy's blood tox results were clear of any traces of drugs or alcohol," Ducky replied, thoughtfully. "However, a drug like Scopolamine can leave the victim in a state of compliancy where their mind is totally controlled and open to suggestion."
"You think someone drugged McGee and programed him to kill DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.
"It is merely a hypothesis," Ducky replied.
"Who would go to those lengths to kill Tony?" Rachel asked.
"How long ya got, Doc?" Gibbs quipped.
"Hey!" Tony objected.
"Scopolamine metabolizes very quickly and is often undetectable in standard blood and urine tests," Ducky added.
"That's true but the effects would have worn off by now," Dr Cranston said.
"We need to get the blood sample to Abby," Gibbs told Ducky. "Tell her to test for everything."
"I thought you'd say that," Ducky replied with a glance at his watch. "I took the liberty of sending the sample to Abigail earlier. She should be receiving the sample right about…now."
"If McGee was drugged, it had to be between leaving the Navy Yard and arriving at DiNozzo's apartment," Gibbs said turning to Tony. "Any idea where he went?"
Tony shook his head grimacing as his headache ramped up a few notches. His eyes widened as a thought occurred.
"Need his iPhone," he said. "Probie doesn't take a potty-break without referring to his electronic diary."
"It's not with his possessions," Ducky replied. "I signed for them myself."
"We find that, we find out where he went in those few hours," Tony added turning for the door. "I'll check his apartment."
"You'll do no such thing, young man," Ducky warned. "You have just suffered a head injury."
"I'll drive," the team leader said stopping to look worriedly at McGee in the padded cell.
Rachel placed her hand on the lead agent's forearm.
"Gibbs," she said gently. "McGee's best chance right now is if you do your job and I do mine."
Nodding his head he followed Tony to the door.
"Keep me informed."
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TBC