Warnings: Slash, het, violence, gore, Papa!Gibbs, Family!Team, and McNozzo. Lots and lots of Hurt!Tim.

Pairings: Tony/Tim, OMC/Ziva (Maybe), Jimmy/Abby (Implied), Gibbs/OFC (Maybe).

…completely and utterly unbetaed. I have no excuse for this.

The Twelve Secrets of Timothy McGee

Secret 7

"The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one." - Margaret Atwood

It was a ridiculously cold morning and Tim hated the cold something fierce, but other than that he had no idea that his life was about change. And change radically in a way that it hadn't since he was nineteen.

Because, you see, there was a lot about Tim McGee that his co-workers didn't know. Out of boredom (and some sort of morbid curiosity) Tim once made a list of them. They were quite a few secrets, to his surprise, and being the methodical person he was Tim came up with a system to rate them. He placed the biggest ones at the top of the list and the smaller ones at the bottom and even went so far as to add little sub-bullets when needed. He promptly destroyed the list – he couldn't risk anyone ever finding any of them out, really. But the list still lived on in his head.

One of the perks of being a genius.

The morning started off pretty normally. Gibbs was practically growling at his computer as he drank his coffee. Tony and Ziva were throwing things at each other whenever they though the boss wasn't looking and McGee paging through a seemingly never ending list of request of aid emails. At about ten they received a call of a dead body. Again, fairly normal. They all filed out to go to the scene, except for Ziva who had a conference call with her superiors, Tony muttering evilly and still smarting a red mark from where Ziva's pen had hit particularly hard. Tony had ridden with Gibbs, which (thankfully) allowed Tim to drive the van with Ducky and Jimmy out to the scene.

The scene was gruesome, to say the least, being a double homicide. Both were women tied up and still on their knees, large gaping holes in their heads from where they'd been shot. There was blood and brain matter everywhere. There was a working construction site at the other end and many of the orange and green clad men were just standing around watching them, much to Gibb's irritation. Tim helped categorize the evidence and took pictures, his mind several miles away from the dead women and on what he was doing that evening.

It wasn't that the young agent didn't care or wasn't shocked by violence, it was just that the gore was fairly common by now and if Tim let himself get upset by it or think too hard on it he'd embarrass himself. Considering he'd been doing a fairly good job of not doing that as much as he used to in the last few months, Tim was eager to continue the trend.

So he decidedly did not think about the dead women, or that they were both blondes and most likely had been very pretty. He did not think about the fact that he had to step over rather large puddles of blood, bone and urine, nor did he allow himself to be caught up in Ducky's rather morbid verbal line of thinking. No, Tim thought very much of the pub he'd be going to and of the friends he would see that night and was it possible to sneak out early if he could only just avoid Gibbs and Abby?

He was doing such a good job of ignoring everything that he missed the fact that Tony had been calling his name until the other agent appeared in his face, hazel eyes flashing. "Jeez, what is wrong with you, Probie? I've been calling your name for like a minute."

Tim blushed, realizing that Gibbs were staring at him in annoyance, letting the camera fall limp against his chest before bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

"Sorry, Tony. What's up?"

"Don't be sorry, pay attention." The other agent snapped, nearly dragging him over to where the Gibbs was standing. "We need you to go down there."

He was pointing at a small, dark hole in the top of an oversized industrial pipe. It was one of the very old ones made out of ceramic and was probably going to be dug up and replaced by those same group of gaping construction workers. Only the very top of the pipe could be seen, the rest buried too far into the ground. The latched cover to it was open and the hole was barely large enough for him to squeeze into. Tim felt dread begin to pool in his stomach.

"What?" His voice came out raspy and utterly startled.

"There's a cellphone down there and we need it. You should just be able to crouch down and crawl to it." Tony said with a roll of the eyes – as if it was somehow obvious despite the fact that Tim could not see a phone, or anything, in the dark hole.

"How do you know?" It could easily be a mistake. And then no one would have to go down into the dark hole.

"We heard it, McGoo. Lit up the hole when it was called, too."

"W-Why do I have to do it?"

"Aw, McGee, I'm flattered you think I can fit in there with my girlish figure but I'm afraid you're the perfect size." Tony pushed a flashlight into his hands. Tim looked desperately at his boss but Gibbs only shrugged.

"Need that phone, McGee."

"Have fun, Goldilocks."

Tim stood completely still, staring blankly at the hole. Still doesn't mean still, though, especially when dealing with someone who thought as fast as Tim McGee did. But no matter how many different scenarios he ran he couldn't come up with one that didn't make him look incredibly bad in front of his boss and friend. With a sigh, the blonde pushed the flashlight and his camera at Tony and slipped his jacket off and then after a moment of consideration his sweater as well.

He crouched down next to hole, shining the flash light down and figuring out the smoothest way to jump into the oversized pipe and see if he couldn't ID which direction the phone was in before he went down. There was, in fact, a horrendously pastel pink cellphone way down to the right and so with a long suffering sigh, Tim slowly slid himself through the opening. It was a tight fit, he had hold his breath to get through, but once Tim dropped down the blonde found he could crouch quite easily.

"Okay, McGee?" He looked up and blinked in surprise. With the morning light behind him, Gibbs looked almost like he had a halo around his silver head.

What an incredibly odd thought.

"Yeah, Boss." Tim answered. He forced himself to take a deep breath and not think about the last time he was in a hole like this. After all, this was completely different. There was an exit and light coming through it and his own flash light. He trusted Gibbs and Tony with his life and neither one of them would ever leave him here and if he started to freak he could just go back to the hole and they would pull him out.

Nothing like last time. As far from last time as possible.

No reason to freak out. None at all.

He was fine. Perfectly fine.

He half waddled/half crawled through the space until he made it to the cellphone. Tim checked it over, frowning as he glanced at the 45 missed messages seemingly from the same guy. The first new message had arrived in only thirteen hours ago. Who the hell could be calling so much in such a short time? A stalker willing to blow someone's face off? Probably.

Cellphone in hand, the blonde (who was decidedly not freaking out) started his way back towards the hole only to freeze when the ceramic around him shook. It was a small vibrating, sounding like something had been dropped on it. For a moment Tim didn't move, didn't dare to breathe as he listened for any other sounds. Eventually though the sound and vibration died away to nothing and cursing himself for his cowardice, Tim began to head towards the small patch of light again.

He'd barely made it a few steps when the ceramic around him gave a horrendous groan, the pipe shaking one more, great time and then the light was gone.

Tony stared in horror at the shattered ceramic and dirt that filled the area that had been the pipe's entryway. He shared one panicked look with Gibbs and then his boss was moving, sprinting over to the backhoe that had un-wittedly backed into the pipe almost fifty feet away. The vibration from the impact had sent a wave like shudder through the length of the pipe and the already cracked portion that held the entryway had almost immediately collapsed in on itself.

"McGee!" Tony shouted fanatically, afraid to touch the pipe for fear it would collapse further but desperately wanting to listen for sounds of his friend.

The majority of the pipe was still holding together and Jesus, Tony hoped that Tim hadn't been in the section that collapsed. He could see Gibbs gesturing frantically at them to the construction workers and then fifty some odd guys were sprinting towards them with shovels. They were half way there when the screaming began.

Tony knew it was Tim, it had to be Tim, but it wasn't a sound that he ever thought McGee could make. With a strangled sound Tony threw himself at the pile, shoveling out dirt and ceramic with his bare hands, pipe integrity be damned, because it was suddenly horribly clear by the muffled sounds that McGee was buried. The sharp ceramic cut his hands and the dirt mixed and clumped with his blood, stinging like mad, but Tony barely noticed.

"McGee! Hold on, Tim!"

The construction workers were on top of him a moment later, ripping him out of the way as they dug in, Gibbs at the front. Seconds later so was Tony, commandeered shovel already slick with the blood from his cuts. They were both shouting, trying desperately to comfort their friend and stop those god awful screams. Somewhere in the background Tony could hear the alarmed voices of Ducky and Jimmy, but that screaming – that terrible screaming – as dampened as it was seemed to deafen everything else. And then suddenly the screaming stopped. Both NCIS agents and construction workers froze mid motion, staring at the now silent dirt pile with wide eyes.

"Don't stop!" Gibbs commanded, attacking the dirt pile with a whole new type of furry. Tony rejoined him seconds later, digging frantically. All he could think was shades of 'nonono' and 'notlikekatenotlikekate' and a long stream of 'I'msuchabastard.'

It was all taking too long – Tim had been buried for at least five minutes. He had to be unconscious at least or…or…Tony couldn't finish that thought. This was all his fault. Completely and utterly his fault. He'd seen how afraid McGee had been. Why had he made him go down there? If he died Tony would never forgive himself. Eventually they threw away their shovels, too afraid of carving into a body and began to dig with their hands.

Moments later Gibbs let out a cry, his hands disappearing underneath the dirt before yanking a frightfully still Tim. It was clear within seconds that McGee wasn't breathing.

"Don't you dare, Tim!" Gibbs snarled, throwing himself into CPR. Ducky pushed him away seconds later, he and Jimmy moving methodically over the still body. There was the sounds of sirens in the distance and seconds later an ambulance came screeching to a stop in front of them. They defibbed him on the spot, eyes dark and mouths thin lines as Ducky spat medical jargon at them in a quick, harsh tone.

It took till three times to bring Tim McGee back to life. On the third, green eyes flashed open, body snapping upwards like a cut rubber band, mouth open in a not so silent scream before he dropped backwards. His eyes roved wildly, mouth wide and gasping before rolling backwards and going completely still once more.

Tony cried out in alarm at the same moment Gibbs started forward, only to be held back by an eerily calm Ducky.

"It's alright," Ducky said softly, rising with the paramedics as they transferred Tim to a gurney, "meet us at Bethesda."

And then they were gone, leaving two thoroughly worried agents and fifty-two slack jawed construction workers behind.

When Tim came to again, the horrible weight and darkness was gone. He took a greedy in-hail of air before opening his eyes. He winced against the gloriously bright light before trying to sit up. Hands immediately pushed him down.

"Take it easy, Tim."

He knew that voice. Weakly he turned his head, more than a little surprised to find his boss standing next to his bedside, blue eyes dark with worry. Tim felt brows furl in confusion.

"B'ss?" Was that raggedy thing his voice? A plastic cup was pressed against his lips and Tim eagerly drank nearly half of it in one go. He wrinkled his nose - his mouth still tasted like dirt. When the cup pulled back, Tim tried to articulate his confusion once more. "How…why are you here?"

A look of something – it could have been hurt, or was it guilt? – flashed across Gibbs' face before disappearing behind the mask of stoicism he was so well known for. "One of my best agents almost died in the field, Tim. I wouldn't be anywhere else."

Oh. That's right.

Memories of the pipe filled him then and suddenly Tim felt very stupid. He'd been thinking – Lord only knows why – that he'd been back in Boston again. But that was impossible, because that had happened years ago. Another lifetime ago, really.

"I called your sister. She's on her way."

"Ah. Thanks." The blonde answered awkwardly. Tim let out a sigh at the thought of Sarah, not looking forward to explaining this debacle to the feisty brunette. It was about then that his scattered brain realized that he didn't even know what he would be trying to explain. "What happened, with the pipe, I mean?"

"One of the backhoes hit it." There was a long silence. "It took us too long to get you out, McGee. You…died."

Tim didn't have the heart to tell his so obviously distraught boss (and didn't that make his heart warm nicely?) that dying was not such a foreign concept to him. There was a sound of a snore from next to him and Tim turned, stilling in surprise to find a head of dark hair asleep on his mattress, inches away from his thigh. He blinked; bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes but when he brought it down Tim found Tony DiNozzo still practically sleeping on him. And behind him, curled in a very uncomfortable looking chair was Jimmy Palmer. Ducky, Abby and Ziva were crowded on an equally uncomfortable looking couch.

Come to think of it, this was a huge private hospital room.

…Did his insurance cover this?

Tony let out a grunt-snore and Tim grinned, tentatively laying a hand on top those brunette locks. They felt softer then he would have thought with all the hair gel. The clock above the door read four-thirty and with the ward so silent and dark it wasn't hard to guess it was in the AM. "You guys all came."

Tim couldn't keep the awe out of his voice.

"Of course we did." There was an odd tone in Gibbs voice and Tim turned to look at him but his boss only gave him a small smile. "You're one of us."

His heart felt like it was going to melt right of his chest and the blonde ducked his head, aware that his face was unbearably red at the comment. A hand rested over top his own and when he looked up again Tim found himself frozen by the intensity on his boss' face.

"Too close, Tim."

He let out a soft sound of agreement. This was the second time he'd almost died from being buried alive. Not that he said anything. Because that was a secret and Tim didn't share his secrets. Honestly, most of his others were worse.

Right now, though, he was just really tired. And Tony's hair felt stupidly good under his hand. So Tim closed his eyes and settled back against his wonderfully warm bed with its heated blankets and fuzzy, unbelievably soft hospital socks and let himself drift off again.

"Night, boss."

The hand holding his squeezed. "Goodnight, McGee."

Secret 7: Timothy McGee is deathly afraid of small spaces.

There will be 12 secrets in all but not necessarily so many chapters. Like said, main pairing is a slash.

AN: I've just finished the second chapter and will upload it soon if there is interest. ::Cackle:: I just need to edit and make sure I still like it after a few hours of sleep. Damn muses, keeping me up until all hours.