Bad Moon Rising
Disclaimer: y'all knolw this by now. I don't own anything.
I'm trying to finish this one for a challenge, so hoepfully it won't be too much longer before I post another chapter. Yes, I know I still have to post the last chapter of HotD. Mea culpa.
Chapter 1
Tony stepped off the elevator and headed for his desk, ready, although not completely willing, to start his work day. His lack of enthusiasm had more to do with the early hour than the job, as well as his reason for arriving at work before dawn. His well-deserved slept had been interrupted by nightmares, an all too familiar occurrence over the past six months. He knew he'd be dragging by the end of the day as a result, never an advantageous condition while under Gibbs supervision and scrutiny.
When he entered the MCRT's bullpen, he was only slightly surprised to see one desk was already occupied by the person who had actually been present in Tony's nightmares. Images of this man lying wide-eyed and dead on the sidewalk with a bullet hole in his chest, or grey and silent in a morgue drawer had troubled Tony ever since he had seen those actual images six months ago. What caused Tony to awaken, heart pounding, from his nightmares was the sudden belief that it actually had been his partner who had been killed, rather than his double, and McGee's kidnapping and rescue had been the dream rather than reality.
Tony studied the younger man, who hadn't even noticed the senior agent arrive, and the concern he had felt when he first saw McGee already at his desk increased. McGee was paler than normal, with dark circles under his eyes and a pinched look to his face that suggested that he had neither slept nor eaten well in the past few days. Tony often wondered just how McGee was dealing with what had happened to him, and before him was evidence that however he had been handling those events, it wasn't working.
"Morning, McEarlyBird," Tony called with forced levity, startling the younger agent out of his state of intense concentration. "Trying to catch a few worms?"
Tim turned to glare at Tony for a brief moment, but the heat behind that glare was nowhere near his usual levels.
"I'm working, Tony." He glanced at the computer screen and his eyed widened slightly before turning back to Tony. "Why are you here so early?" He looked around the bullpen. "Did we get a call-out?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then why are you here?"
"What, you think you're the only one who can get in at the crack of dawn? Why are you here so early, Probie?"
"I…had stuff I needed to do."
"Looks like you'd be better off sleeping. What's going on?"
"Nothing. And you didn't answer my question."
Tony plastered on a fake smile. "I thought I'd get in early and avoid the traffic."
Tim snorted. "And they say I'm a bad liar."
"You are. 'Stuff I needed to do'? Come on, McGee—"
"Drop it, Tony."
"No, I won't." Tony lowered his voice and leaned closer, his expression now serious. "What's wrong, Tim?"
McGee studied his partner for a few moments and let out a resigned sigh. "I couldn't sleep, OK? No big deal."
"It doesn't sound like 'no big deal' to me. You look like crap, Probie."
"Not looking so great yourself, Tony," Tim muttered. He looked up at the senior agent and sighed again. "Sorry, man."
"We're kind of a mess, aren't we?" Tony asked, surprising himself. Tim chuckled weakly.
"Yeah, we are." He met Tony's gaze. "And it's my fault, too."
Tony immediately knew where McGee's train of thought was headed and gave him a gentler-than-normal headslap. "It's not your fault, Tim."
"If I had just—"
"You didn't know what you were dealing with, Probie. None of us did."
"And now we do know what's out there…and the world's a hell of a lot less safe than we thought."
"Never thought it was all that safe to begin with," Tony said with a grin, and felt the weight on his shoulders lift a little when he saw a genuine, albeit weak smile on Tim's face.
"True."
"Hey, listen, we both need to kick back and relax a little, right? Tonight, my place: beer, pizza, and we'll watch a movie that will be guaranteed to put us to sleep, like maybe Kenneth Branagh's four-hour version of Hamlet."
"I liked that one, actually," Tim replied with a slight grin.
"You would. We'll figure something out. Hey, I know, we can watch Van Helsing. That one never fails to put me to sleep."
Tim chuckled and nodded before his expression quickly sobered. "As long as we don't get a case."
"Maybe we'll get lucky."
"We can always hope… Hey, Tony?"
"Yeah, McGee?"
"Thanks."
"No problem. That's what partners are for, right?"
Tim smiled, nodded, and turned back to his computer, looking much less tense. Tony turned to his own computer and started it up, smiling to himself and believing the nightmares would be kept at bay for both of them, at least for one night.
They weren't.
XXX
"Gear up. We've go a body at Quantico."
Tim automatically stood and grabbed his bag, surprised when he saw that it was already well past 0800. He had been so absorbed in a cold case he was studying that he hadn't even noticed how much time had passed since his talk with Tony. The senior agent caught his eye and shrugged. Maybe the case would be an easy one, and they'd be able to stick with their plans.
"Another dead Marine, Boss?" Tony asked, his tone suggested he already knew the answer but wanted to be sure.
"Dunno, DiNozzo. They can't tell. That's why they need us."
Tim and Tony exchanged looks. This was going to be a bad one.
"What happened?" asked Ziva.
"Patrol found the body at the edge of a patch of woods near one of the housing complexes. The base commander is checking for UAs and missing dependents."
Tim felt a twist in his stomach. If it was a kid that had been killed, this was going to be really bad.
The team was silent for most o the trip, and when they arrived at Quantico the three younger agents moved to unpack the truck while Gibbs went to question the Commander. Soon Ducky and Palmer arrived with the M.E.'s van and the group was escorted to the site by no less than five armed Marines.
"Why the guard?" asked Tony.
"Your safety," one of the Marines replied, and Tony and Tim once again exchanged worried glances. Really really bad.
Soon they arrived at the scene and when they took in the sight before them, they froze, incomprehension and then horror crossing their faces.
"Good Lord…"
Both Ziva and Tony swore, and Tim felt his stomach do a slow roll. You will not get sick…you will not get sick… He had seen some horrible things on this job but this was definitely the worst he had ever experienced.
"Who…what could have done this?" Palmer managed to ask.
"We're really hoping it's not a 'who'," the base Commander replied as he arrived with Gibbs close behind. "If there's a person out there sick enough to do this…my Marines are very willing to shoot first and ask questions later."
Ducky was the first to approach the body, or what was left of it. He crouched down next to the remains and began to study them, not touching anything. After what seemed like eternity but could only have been a couple of minutes, he turned to the group with a worried expression on his face.
"This has the outward appearance of an attack by a large carnivore, but there are some aspects of the…dismemberment that seem a bit too methodical. It is possible that a human caused some of the post-mortem damage, but, unless they had some sort of assistance, no person could have been responsible for all of it."
"So you're saying an animal killed…whoever this is and a human scavenged the corpse?" the Commander asked.
Ducky winced. "Rather bluntly put, but yes. However, I would prefer to wait until I have examined the remains in autopsy before giving my final analysis." He gave Jimmy a pointed look and the young man blushed.
"Yes, Dr. Mallard. I'll…go get some more, uh, containers." He hurried off, accompanied by one of the Marines.
"Could the animal have been a dog?"
"It's possible, Jethro, but it would have to be one of the larger breeds or one with very powerful jaws."
The Commander turned to Gibbs. "We have a list of all the dogs on base. I can get that for you and have someone take one of your people around to see if any of them could have done this."
Flashing back to his first encounter with Jethro the dog, McGee shuddered. He knew this was just the type of task that he'd be assigned.
"I can do that," Ziva broke in before Gibbs could reply, her eyes on McGee. He gave her a weak smile and a grateful nod.
"Fine. I'll call animal control and see if there have been any other reports of animal attacks in the area. In the meantime we have a scene to process. Let's move."
The team spread out around the scene, which remained guarded by the Marines, rifles at the ready.
"Guess they're waiting for Cujo to reappear," muttered Tony as he started to sketch the scene. He glanced over at McGee and winced, obviously remembering the last time he had used that reference. "Sorry, Probie."
Tim just shook his head and started to photograph the evidence that Ziva marked. They all worked in silence, avoiding the area around the body as much as possible while Ducky and Palmer worked to document and then gather up the remains to package them for transport. Tim paused to photograph a lone sneaker and tried not to think about the fact that the owner's foot was still inside it, or that the presence of the shoe suggested they were looking for a dependent rather than a Marine.
A sudden commotion near the far edge of the woods, outside of the view of the scene briefly drew his attention. He could hear a woman screaming for "Danny" and cringed. It was possible they now had a name to go with the remains. Suddenly he felt a surge of anger. The boy's family would be experiencing something no one ever should: the violent and inexplicable loss of one of their own.
Tim stopped and took a few quick breaths to try and calm the feelings of rage boiling up inside him. He understood where this was coming from but that did not make it any easier. He bit his lip, hoping the pain would clear his head and get his mind back to the task at hand.
"Are you alright, McGee?"
He jumped slightly and turned to his teammate. "I'm fine, Ziva."
She cocked her head and studied him, and soon he felt himself blushing.
"I'm fine, Ziva. I need to get back to work."
She stepped up to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "If something was bothering you, you would tell me, yes? You would let me help you."
"I would." If I thought you could.
She continued to study him for a few more moments. "I want to help you, McGee. We all do."
Tim sighed. "I know. Just…I need to work this out on my own right now. OK?"
Finally she nodded. "Just know that we are here for you, McGee. No matter what."
"Thanks."
They both returned to their tasks and soon had moved out to the edges of the scene to search for more evidence. Tim noticed an impression in the ground and bent down to examine it. It was a footprint, likely from a dog, but larger than any McGee had ever seen. He raised his camera to snap a picture when something, some gut feeling, stopped him. He moved deeper into the woods in the direction the print had pointed and soon discovered another. Tim knew he was no tracker, but he remembered enough about the process to follow the trail. After a few yards, he noticed something strange about the tracks: the central pad of the track had started to elongate, and the impressions left by the toes had started to shrink. After another couple of yards, Tim froze when he saw the progression of tracks had ended in a perfectly formed, bare human footprint.
Oh crap…
Tim blinked, wondering if he had in fact finally gone crazy. He re-traced his steps and followed the tracks again, reaching the same spot and the same, horrible conclusion: what had been responsible for the body was definitely not a dog.
With a shaking hand, Tim pulled out his cell phone and snapped a few pictures of the prints. He knew he couldn't take pictures with his scene camera, as they would become part of evidence and there was no way in hell he wanted to explain these to the director.
Just as he had finished, he heard the crunch of leaves underfoot, followed by the sound of a twig snapping. He slowly lowered his hand to the butt of his weapon and turned in the direction of the sounds, struggling to slow his breathing and his hammering heartbeat.
A large figure stepped out from behind one of the trees and Tim sighed in relief. It was one of the Marines who had been guarding the clearing.
"Your boss is looking for you," the Marine said, his voice barely hinting at his annoyance.
"Thanks. I'm done here."
"Find anything?"
"Nothing useful."
"We better get you back to your team, then. Follow me."
The Marine headed back the way Tim had come and he meekly followed, avoiding the temptation to look at the prints again and thus draw attention to them.
He never noticed the pair of eyes watching him as he walked out of the forest.
TBC…
Van Helsing always puts me to sleep...
