Title: The Town That Takes All
Rating: T
Spoilers: NCIS' Hiatus arc. Nothing specific for Silent Hill.
Summary: Knowledge of the SH 'verse not needed to understand the fic. When Gibbs goes AWOL, an analysis of a message on his answering machine reveals the impossible. Now the team is heading after him, to the Maine ghost town of Silent Hill, to rescue him from destruction...

Author's Note: Takes place a couple of months after Gibbs gets back from Mexico. Started as a drabble meme response for Cassy. This is going to be expanded into a multi-chaptered fic for those who have no idea what Silent Hill is, you don't need to. Long story short: creepy, foggy ghost-town full of supernatural occurrances. It's similar to Centralia, Pennsylvania: the town that had to be abandoned in the 60s after underground mine fires began burning (and are still burning). Wikipedia is your friend. ;)

Abby

"Hey, Director." I look up from my electron microscope, smiling wearily. "What's up?"

When McGee, Ziva, Tony and Ducky all file in behind Jenny, my brain spots the missing piece in our puzzle and kicks into overdrive. "Did something happen to Gibbs? Did he go back to Mexico? Tell me he didn't go back to Mexico!"

"He didn't show up this morning, and we can't reach him." Jenny looks grim. "Tony and Ziva just got back from his place, and all of his stuff's still there. I don't think he's gone back, Abby."

I can't help but sigh with relief – it's only been a couple of months since he was reinstated, and a part of me is still scared he might decide he liked it better in Mexico. "Okay. Well… good."

Tony steps forward, his usual laid-back demeanour nowhere to be seen. "There's a message on his answering machine that we can't make sense of, though. Too much static."

I bite my lip, stretching out a hand to take the tape he offers. "I'll clean up the audio. Did you try to trace his cell?"

"Yeah," McGee answers, joining me in front of the computer. "He's a few miles outside Bangor, Maine."

"Maine?!" Aside from the distance from DC, and the fact that Gibbs has never once mentioned ties to that state, something else sets an alarm bell ringing in my mind. "But that makes no sense! Why would he go to Maine?"

"We're hoping that tape can tell us," Tony says, running a hand through his hair. "It's creepy, Abbs. Really creepy."

I locate the answering machine I use to play back messages from tapes brought in for evidence and set it up, glancing over at Ducky, the one who's known him the longest. "He's never said anything about Maine to you?"

He shakes his head, his brow furrowed. "Not that I recall."

"Oh my god, oh my god… Ziva, try to call him again?" I know it's stupid, but for Gibbs to take off without telling me is unheard of. He wouldn't. He knows I'd freak out.

A moment's silence passes while Ziva tries his cell, but then she shakes her head. "It is switched on, but he is not answering. We have left voicemail messages, but…"

Slipping the tape into the recorder, I hold up my hand, and she trails off. When I press the play button, the first message begins to play. "Probie!" Mike Franks' voice is instantly recognisable. "Gimme a call when you get the time. Nothin' urgent, just curious how you're readjustin' to life north of the border. Later..."

"Has anyone called him?" Jenny wants to know.

"I did," Ziva says. "He has not heard from Gibbs in a few weeks."

The second message on the tape begins, and the quiet hiss becomes the harsh, fluctuating static of white noise, like a de-tuned radio. Then, in between crackles, I hear faint voices: one high and reedy, like a child's; the other more adult, definitely female. I can't distinguish any words, only a few syllables here and there.

…eth-… elp-… he-… pl-… … … i-… ill-… hur-… ad-… sca- … an-… e! Pl-…

As the tape screeches into high, grating feedback, then goes silent, a full-on shiver chases down my spine. Whatever this is, I don't think it can be good. It doesn't just sound like a message gone wrong; it's not like any recording error I've ever heard, and there are a few frequencies in there that I've never heard in bad reception calls.

"Give me a couple of hours to work on this," I say to Director Shepard, trying to get a hold on myself. "It seems familiar somehow, but I can't remember… I'll call you when I have something."

Ducky touches my arm, seeming concerned. "Are you all right, my dear? You've gone white as a sheet."

I'm not exactly sure about the answer to that question, myself, but I force myself to nod. "Yeah. Just my imagination running away with me. I'm fine."

He doesn't seem convinced, but he drops the subject, patting my shoulder before joining the others as they file out of the lab. "Keep us updated."

"Yeah," I answer distractedly, staring down at the tape in my hands. Why does this seem familiar to me? Where have I read about it, and why does it make me want to crawl under my desk and hide?

An hour or so later, I'm still not able to make out the words on the tape. None of the logical methods have worked, and in frustration, I've started to isolate random frequencies in order to make sense of them. Aside from one noise that sounds like a wounded animal whimpering, it's all been random crackles and buzzing that I should have been able to filter out, no problem.

It's an unwelcome puzzle, and I don't like it. Not when Gibbs is hundreds of miles away, heading somewhere that, instinctively, I know is bad.

I have his GPS trace up on my plasma; he's driving up toward Millinocket, ME and still not answering his cell. Why would he go there? Why wouldn't he tell us? And why can't I get this damn audio file to obey the laws of electronics?

Aggravated, I hit a few random keys on my keyboard, dragging the mouse cursor over the program window at random. Unbelievably, the white noise recedes, and I forget to breathe as the audio clears; not entirely, but enough for me to hear the message beneath.

Jethro! Oh, god, help us… Find us, help us, please… We're in a town, a ghost town; the sign said 'Silent Hill'. They're hurting us–

The woman's voice is cut off abruptly with a cry of pain, and the voice of a little girl in tears replaces it. Daddy, I'm scared! It's coming, and it hurts, and Mommy's bleeding! Please, come and get-

The message ends there.

Impossible. Totally impossible. There's only one person who would call Gibbs 'Daddy', and she's been dead since 1991. So has her 'Mommy'.

Wait… Silent Hill?!

I grab the phone with numb fingers, already running a Google search on the town. "McGee! We have a big problem. Gibbs is heading for Silent Hill, Maine, because he got a message from Shannon and Kelly!"

There's a moment of silence on the line, and then McGee says slowly, "Uhhh… Abby, I think you need to lay off the Caf-Pow!."

More coming soon!