Summary: What looked to be an open and shut case turns out to be something bigger. Now, the team must poke through McGee's tragic past, even if things start to get more deadly then ever in the process.

Author's Note:

I do not own NCIS, blah blah blah. Okay, move on. Also, warnings: Cursing, may have sexual content. Not really sure yet, so just beware.

Chapter 1: Skeletons in the Closet


"I got him! Go!" McGee yelled towards Tony as he ran towards the Navy Lieutenant, Aaron Sanders. He had been involved in hiring a contract killer to murder his wife, a well-respected First Class Petty Officer. Tony and him were supposed to come here, to his cabin in the middle of the woods, to arrest him. The only thing is, they didn't expect him to have another meeting with the contract killer: Luke Garza, which was why Gibbs and Ziva weren't with them, sense they were heading towards Garza's place to arrest him now.

Well, guess that won't happen. McGee thought, hoping that the call to Gibbs he'll have later will be to tell him that they got both suspects in custody, instead of telling them to get over here for some help.

Yeah, he really hoped they wouldn't need the extra help. But McGee knew very well that it was a likely possibility, especially given that it was a two on two fight, and they had both went running in separate directions into the woods.

McGee could only groan in annoyance at this guy - at this case. He didn't like it one bit. Something about it sent a shiver down his spine, and it wasn't because the weather was in double-digits below zero. Maybe it was the cold-hearted, brutal, murder of that innocent wife who thought she married someone that would be there for her for the rest of their lives. Maybe it was because the Petty Officer was expecting, and even when she was eight months pregnant, Sanders and Garza still didn't mind the fact to stab her to death twenty times to kill her and the baby.

It was a cold-hearted, brutal, killing, and everyone on the team wanted to catch these scumbags, and McGee definitely wasn't going to leave without them.

He felt his feet run faster through the three inches of D.C. snow, as he watched as Sanders run into his cabin that he had been heading towards when Tony and him spotted him in the first place. McGee couldn't help but wonder why go back to the cabin, when he could easily get trapped there. That is, unless he has an escape plan. Or worse - something in there that can lead McGee in a trap. Though, it wasn't really in Sander's M.O. to kill with brutal means. In fact, this case was surprising to many people sense it didn't seem to fit Sander's psych profile.

Something about this case seemed off to McGee, and he was intent on finding out everything he could. Still, it didn't stop from hating this dirtbag in the first place. Even if this guy didn't do it, why would he run? Why was he meeting Garza? Why here?

The thought that Sanders had something planned sent another shiver down McGee's spine as he rushed into the cabin. He could only grow more worried as he noticed that Sanders didn't even try to lock the door, and as McGee looked around, he could see that this cabin was a lot bigger than normal cabins. Instead, it was more like a...house in the middle of the woods, versus a place to go camping. But judging by all the pictures hanging on the wall of Lieutenant Sanders and his wife and family, it definitely belonged to him.

Looking around, McGee strained his ears to attempt to listen for Sanders as he searched the ground floor. He stopped for a moment when he heard the soft, faint, sound of something creaking - like a door.

Perking up, McGee was quick to rush towards the stairs as quietly as possible. He started to sneak up, gun raised in case a surprise attack, before he started to search all the rooms. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as the adrenaline pumped through his system - it was the way he felt every time he chased a suspect, but he knew this was different. Something about this case was just different.

His gut turned, and McGee's instinct screamed for him to turn around and run - but he knew he couldn't do that. He had to keep chasing the guy. He wasn't going to stop until the guy was in cuffs.

Yeah, Timothy, that's how people get killed. McGee thought to himself, By ignoring their instincts.

But he could also see it now if he turned back and run, and had to face Gibb's wrath.

Why didn't you arrest him?

Right, boss, my gut was just telling me to get the hell out.

What kind of Federal agent would be be if he turned around and ran out of fear? Then again, what kind of agent would be be if he didn't follow his gut instinct?

McGee was torn, but instead of thinking about the subject, he decided to just focus on the task at hand as he walked slowly to the last door at the end of the hall, knowing Sanders had to be in there. He lowered a shaky hand to the door knob, a part of him wondering what brought on the sudden anxiety, as he twisted the doorknob and suddenly busted in.

Trusting his training, McGee was quick to check behind the door. Before Sanders could even throw a punch, McGee had elbowed him in the face sending him falling backwards onto the hard ground. He looked down at him, about to jump on him to finally arrest the bastard, but something in his mind told him to stop and look up.

When he did, he couldn't help but freeze at what was in front of him. His green eyes suddenly widened, his heart sinking deep in his chest as he looked at the pictures pinned to the wall.

Before McGee could even comprehend what was happening, the Lieutenant's fist collided with McGee's face. He flew to the ground, knocking the gun out of his hand as it slid across the room. Jumping up with the adrenaline still running through his system, he faced Sanders who instead of running, faced him to fight.

He had to take that as a good sign, McGee guessed, because maybe he could arrest the guy. But, McGee knew, this case was more than hiring a killer to kill his wife.

Sanders must have knew who he was - which was why he ran inside this house. Why he picked this room - to catch him off by surprise. McGee groaned at the fact that it worked, but he wasn't going to let that affect him now. His focus was all on Sanders, knowing he could focus what was pinned to the wall beside him later.

As Sanders suddenly rushed towards him, McGee was quick to dodge, his years of NCIS training finally feeling like they paid off. He was quick to turn around and punch Sanders by surprise, knocking him down. Jumping on him, he held him down to cuff him but the Lieutenant was bigger, heavier - stronger.

Sanders knocked him back by surprise, flicking him off him as if he was lightweight. Falling backwards, McGee was quick to jump up. He could see the gun that was behind Sanders, but he didn't look interested. Instead, he looked more interested in hand-to-hand combat, as if knowing he could beat McGee.

McGee could only figure that was a good sign. A punch to the face was better than a bullet any day.

Charging towards him, Sanders went to throw a punch at him, but McGee was quick to duck, hit him in the leg and make him almost lose his balance. But, Sanders didn't budge. Instead, he was quick to grab McGee and basically throw him into the wall.

McGee groaned out in pain as he slid down and hit the hard ground, but the pain subsided quickly with all the adrenaline, and he was quick to get back up to his feet. He didn't waste any second as he rushed over towards his gun, not wanting to waste anymore time with this hand-to-hand combat crap.

Before McGee could even get to his gun, he watched as Sanders started to charge him once more. McGee felt himself raise the gun, and everything seemed to happen in fast motion.

One minute, He heard the gunshot echo in the small room, and he felt Sander's heavy body hit his like a bull. The next, he could hear glass shattering and his body start to fall, the cold air hitting him as his back suddenly crashed through something hard before he took a mouthful of cold, freezing water.

For a moment, he was too shocked at what even happened, before he started to swim, begging for air. He swore he could hear his name being called in the distance, but sense it sounded like Gibbs, he had a feeling it wasn't.

Ignoring the sounds that sounded a world away, McGee gasped as he felt himself suddenly being dragged down into the cold waters, forcing him to swallow the pond water. His head felt like it was going to explode in that moment, and he tried to hold his breath and shake his leg, trying to loosen the grip of Sanders.

He felt only partially aware of everything. He knew he was in freezing cold water - but he still wasn't exactly sure how. He knew he fell - but he still couldn't even remember there being a window.

He knew that he pulled the trigger, but he didn't know if the bullet ever pieced through flesh. He wouldn't be surprised if he ended up shooting himself though, with the searing pain that raced through his body, and the sight of red floating in the water around him.

Everything seemed to have been in slow motion now, with Sanders pulling at his leg and McGee trying to wiggle free. He felt helpless and weak, and he hated that feeling. He hated that feeling more than anything in the world.

Looking down, he could see Sander's cold-hard expression stare at him. It was full of anger, rage, vengeance. He wasn't sure where that came from - or why, because as far as McGee knew, Lieutenant Sanders was a good, well-respected man before the murder of his pregnant wife.

Now, he was just a monster.

But McGee knew Monsters weren't made over-night, and he was still greatly confused on what tripped Sanders off. Then again, he knew he might never know if he doesn't fight.

He might never explain those pictures hanging on the wall if he doesn't fight.

Feeling a sudden burst of adrenaline in him, McGee found the strength as he kicked Sander's hard in the face. His grip around McGee's ankle loosened, and McGee started to swim to the top. He could see the surface of the water, rippling above him. He could see the dim sunlight peaking just behind the surface of the water, and it almost looked like he could see a blurred face.

For a split second, McGee wasn't sure if he was going to reach the surface. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get another gasp of air, or if he would ever say goodbye to his little sister, to his family, to his team, to his girlfriend.

For a split second, he thought he was going to die. He felt his body grow even more weaker as if giving up, even though he know that his fight or flight instincts should be kicking in so hard that it would make him stronger to fight for air. But instead, his body didn't seem to care. It just wanted to stay, witness the end, and fall into a peaceful slumber.

But McGee wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to let that happen.

With one last bit of strength, McGee fought harder to swim to the top, and suddenly, his head broke through the surface of the water as he gasped loudly for air. He coughed, as he heard the soft, reassuring 'you're okay's from his teammates, pulling him towards solid ground.

When he found himself lying down on the cold snow, McGee looked up at the grey sky above him. He looked up at Tony's looming, worried, face starring back down at him. He could see Gibb's concerned stare, the wind rustling through his silver hair.

"You okay, probie?"

McGee coughed once more, before letting a small smile take over his face.

"Peachy." He said. In that moment, he couldn't be more glad that he was alive. He couldn't be more happy that he had air to breathe, a family to love and...

His mind suddenly stopped, and his smile suddenly turned into a frown as he was reminded of the pictures hanging on the wall in the house he had somehow fallen out of. McGee was quick to sit up, now starring at the pond in front of him, Sander's body somewhere beneath the cold waters.

"Whoa, slow down there, McGee." Tony said, a warm hand on his shoulder as he shivered in the cold.

"I-I-" He stuttered stupidly, unable to explain anything as he jumped up. Tony and Gibbs looked at him in shock, and he could only guess that Tony got Garza, because Ziva was no where in sight. She was probably bringing him back to NCIS.

McGee couldn't focus on that, though. Instead, while ignoring the concerned glares and yells of protests from his teammates, he turned around and burst into a run back towards the house. He could hear his name being called by Gibbs, but he ignored him as he kept running.

His lungs burned, and he knew it probably wasn't a good idea to run in the freezing cold after falling out of a two-story building and nearly drowning, but he felt like he had no choice.

Ignoring the searing pain that sparked through his entire body, McGee raced up the stairs as he headed towards the room he had fought Sanders in. Once he got in, he stopped, his eyes widening once again.

His heart could only beat faster as he stepped closer towards the wall of pictures.

His heart was racing so incredibly fast, he was pretty sure he was going to have a panic attack - or worse - a heart attack, right then and there. But, instead, he only stood still as he looked up at the pictures.

"Man, Probie, you run-whoa." Tony stopped as he entered the room, looking up at the wall of pictures. He stepped towards the younger agent, but his eyes wasn't focused on him. Instead, he was looking at the hundreds of pictures that were pinned on the wall.

He only knew one person on there, and it worried him. It worried him, because Tony knew that this case was more than a husband hiring a contract killer to kill his wife.

No.

It was just the tipping of the iceberg (Er, maybe not the best analogy). It was the beginning of a much, much, bigger case.

A case that none of them could ever expect.

Because on that wall, were pictures of McGee. Pictures of him as an NCIS field agent, pictures of him back in Norfolk. Pictures of him what looked like college, and even grade school.

But they weren't all of him. The other pictures that were scattered on the wall was of a pretty brunette woman, and some others where what looked like her kid.

"Who is she, McGee?" Tony questioned. As he looked over at the younger agent, he could see that he wasn't starring at his own pictures. He could see that he didn't even seem to be worried over his own safety. Instead, he seemed to be worried over the woman's.

"Talia." Was all that could be heard as McGee unintentionally shivered.

"Who?" Tony questioned, just as Gibbs entered the room so quietly, that he was sure McGee wasn't even aware he was there.

"My ex-fiancée."


Author's Note:

Yeah, kind of a short chapter, and I feel like this was poorly written. It's kind of...-looks at the clock and gasps-

Oh shit, it's 4:50am.

Well, you get my point. Anyway, I'm sitting here wondering if I should post a chapter a day, or just post all of them at once when I'm done. Like...what will make me post more often? I'm not sure. Problem is, I have a habit of not finishing things.

Well, I'm going to try to post a chapter a day, but sense this story has been in my head for a really, really, long while, I actually feel like I'll finish it.

I'm planning to have the chapters short sense it seems to make me post more, but just have more chapters - ya feel me?

Also, Reviews are good! Constructive criticism is good too, but you know, not stuff like "this story sucks" or...eh, I can't think of another example. My mind isn't working properly right now.

Well, that's it so...bye