After having scouted the neighborhood for witnesses, none of them had been successful in finding a single person who'd seen or heard anything of McGee's disappearance. It had been too early, too quiet.

Sam, Dean and Bobby searched the area where it seemed McGee had been standing before vanishing. They found no sign of demonic presence; no sulfur and no hex bags. And after Gibbs, Ziva and Tony managed to scour the entire parameter of the outside of the house with fine-toothed combs, they came to the agreement that there was no sign of struggle.

"I don't understand," Tony said in barely a whisper and he aimlessly looked far off up the street. "How does someone just disappear?"

"They don't," Gibbs replied before turning into the house. Tony followed him, hoping he might have some idea as to what was going on and was just being cryptic about it, as usual. "Ziva, call Vance. Tell him we've got a missing agent and we need a BOLO. Tony, check out his laptop. See if there's anything in his email; threats or anything else suspicious."

"You think this is a kidnapping?" Tony asked.

"Gibbs, what's going on?" Abby asked as she hurried down the stairs.

"Abs, I need you an' Duck to go back to the Yard. McGee's missing."

"What?" her eyes widened in horror. "How? When?"

"I don't know, Abby!" he shouted. "I don't know how. I need you...to go in to work." After a moment of hesitation, Abby went back up the stairs to wake Ducky. Gibbs turned to Dean, "Where's Castiel? He said this house was safe, damn it!"

"I haven't seen him since last night," Dean told him. "But I'll try and call, see if he knows anything about this," he pulled out his phone and turned to dial.

"Boss," Tony called out from where he sat on the couch in front of McGee's computer. "You should take a look at this." Gibbs crossed the room and sat on the edge of the couch beside Tony and squinted at the screen. "About an hour ago, he created a new document. Looks like he was writing out a dream he had. Starts out with...what happened last night," he glanced at Gibbs. "Can you see it, or ya want me to read it out loud?"

"Just read it, DiNozzo," he replied without hesitation.

"On it, boss. Uh...okay:

"The wolf was gone, now, and I could hear Loki laughing at me. I turned to look at him. Saw him staring right at me. Then I heard him speak, though his mouth didn't move. He said 'It's not over,' and then Tony was beside me.

"I told him...or I tried to, anyway. I told him he'd have to finish it. But I guess I'm not exactly sure what that means. Then I woke up. Or I thought I did, anyway. I sat up and turned on the light and Castiel was sitting in the chair. It scared the crap out of me, but he didn't seem to have meant to. He said he'd been waiting for me to wake up so he could ask me what Loki said to me. How he knew that it said anything to me, I don't know. But I told him. He said we have more work to do. Then he just kinda...disappeared."

"That part probably wasn't a dream," Sam said from where he had been standing, listening. "Cas was probably here talking to him."

"Well where the hell is he now?" Gibbs demanded as he stood from the couch. Sam turned to look at Dean who was still on the phone.

"Cas, where the hell are you, man? We've kinda got a situation. Did you zap McGee someplace with you? If ya did, ya gotta warn people, ya know! Answer your damn phone! Or well...call me when you get this," he slammed the phone closed.

"You think Cas took Tim?" Sam asked his brother.

"I can't think of any other explanation at this point. Can you?" Dean asked. "Damnit, Cas...where the hell are you?"

11 00 11 00 11

"You have no idea what you're doing," Castiel told the woman who paced the room around him. He was trapped in a ring of holy fire, forced to stand there with no where to go.

"I know what I'm doing," she replied. Her short, fiery-red hair didn't sway when she walked, as it was held in thick clumps with product. "I'm following orders."

"Orders in which you have no means to understand the outcome. You are human. What do you stand to gain by doing this? Whose orders do you follow?"

"You really think Loki didn't have a back-up plan?" she grinned. "You ask what I stand to gain... Yeah, you're right; I'm just a human. After this is done, the one I'm following orders from will give me the one thing I've always wanted. To be a powerful witch."

"The only thing you will receive is death," he told her. "Demons lie."

"Demons?" she laughed. "Loki's children aren't just demons, Castiel. They're gods. They can do whatever they want."

"But I can guarantee you that they will not give you what you want. You're a pawn. You have no idea what you're doing; what you are allowing to happen."

"I know enough," she replied. "Don't worry, Castiel. You won't be here forever." With that, she smiled and left the room, leaving Castiel by himself.

11 00 11 00 11

Tim exited the cab in a daze. The driver didn't seem to care about the fare, unless he'd prepaid. In whatever case, McGee couldn't remember. As he watched the cab drive away, he realized he was across the street from NCIS.

Did I drink last night? I feel like I might have drank last night... he thought as he approached the security gate.

"Agent McGee?" the guard came out of the hut and came toward him.

Tim looked at the man and was slightly surprised at himself when he flinched away as the guy tried to take his arm. "'Course it's me, John. Who else would I be?" he replied.

"Whole agency's been put on alert," he told him as he picked up his radio. "Someone alert the Director I have Agent McGee at the front gate," he spoke into it.

"What's going on? Why have we been put on alert?" Tim asked.

"John, you've got the okay to bring him inside," a voice sounded over the radio.

"Come on, Tim," John told him. "Let's get you in to see Dr. Mallard while we wait for Agent Gibbs to get here."

"W-why do I need to see Ducky?" he asked as he hesitantly followed him toward the building.

"You're obviously hurt, man," he told him.

"What?" McGee glanced down at himself, realizing he was still in the clothes he'd worn to bed. Only, now they were torn and dirty with small specks of dried blood. His arms had bruising on them and marks around his wrists. Suddenly, the aching all over his body became evident whereas he hadn't even noticed it before.

"Tim, you've been missing for three hours." John's words made his stomach ache and his eyes grow wide with confusion...

11 00 11 00 11

Gibbs and Tony rushed into autopsy after having rushed to NCIS upon hearing of McGee's unexpected arrival. The younger agent was sitting on one of the cold tables; clad in only boxer-shorts; arms wrapped around his naked torso. His eyes met Gibbs' then Tony's as they approached him.

"You okay, Tim?" Gibbs asked in a soft voice. McGee answered only with a small nod.

"What happened?" Tony asked as he appraised him for damage.

"I don't remember," he replied in a hushed voice.

"Ducky, what's his damage?" Gibbs asked the M.E who walked back toward them from his desk.

"Superficial wounds, Jethro. Some mild bruising and contusions scattered about his body. Certainly nothing life-threatening. But as for why anyone would do this, I cannot begin to guess."

"No concussion?" Tony asked.

"Not that I can tell," he replied. "They must have drugged him, which would explain the memory loss."

"You find anything on him?" Gibbs asked.

"I took a blood sample; sent it up to Abigail with his clothing. Other than that, I've not been able to find anything indicating who might have attacked him," the doctor explained.

Gibbs and Tony turned their attention back to McGee. "You don't remember who took you?" Gibbs asked.

Tim shook his head, "I...remember going outside to my car," he said. "Then showing up here in a cab." He briefly closed his eyes as a tremor ran through his body.

"Are ya cold?" Tony asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

McGee jumped at the contact and nearly fell off the table, had Gibbs not caught him. "I- I'm sorry," Tim stuttered. "Don't know why I'm so damn jumpy..."

"Got reason to be," Gibbs said. "Duck, ya got somethin' he can put on till we can get him back to the house?"

"Certainly, Jethro," he said as he turned to go to his desk.

"That is," Gibbs turned to look at Tim again, "If you feel okay about goin' back there?"

Eagerly, McGee nodded, "Yeah, boss, I'd like to go." He slid down off of the table, dropping his hands and exposing his abdomen for the first time since the two older agents had been in the room. Tony grimaced at the fist-sized bruises that painted the pale skin of his stomach. But Gibbs was the one to notice Tim's face just as it turned a sickly shade of green, sending him quickly toward the double sinks before he vomited.

Gibbs put a hand high on he agent's back, which seemed to immediately sent another tremor through the kid's body and cause him to heave again. Gibbs looked over at the doctor who was returning to them with a navy-blue M.E jumper. "You sure he's okay, Duck?"

"X-rays proved he doesn't have any breaks or internal bleeding. The blood-tests shouldn't take much longer. Once Abigail has the results, you'll be the first to know."

11 00 11 00 11

"Ziva," Gibbs said as he entered the bullpen, "A cab dropped McGee off at the front gate. I want the security footage."

"Already looking at it, Gibbs," she said from her computer, then decidedly clicked on the program to put it up on the big screen. "There is no clear shot of the driver, but it looks as though he did not charge him a fare. The license tags are fake. I ran them, myself."

"So chances are, whoever was drivin' is the one who took him in the first place," Gibbs said as he squinted at the screen.

"How is McGee?" she questioned, turning he body to face him.

"He's okay. Shaken up, but not seriously hurt. DiNozzo's bringin' him back to the house."

"Abby says he does not remember anything."

"Yeah. He was likely drugged," he said just as his phone rang. "Yeah. Gibbs." There was a pause as he listened to the voice on the other line. "We'll be right down," he ended the call. "Abby has somethin'."

11 00 11 00 11

There was a pointed silence up to the halfway point in the car. McGee had been gently wringing his hands, focusing on a small smudge on the passenger window, in thought.

Tony, however, was stewing in the silence. It was killing him. He had barely recovered from the unadulterated fear of having lost the kid that morning, and now neither of them knew what the hell happened to him while he was gone.

"You sure you're okay?" he finally asked.

Tim didn't look away from the smudge, "Yeah. I'm fine." His voice was small and lost.

"Do you remember talking to Castiel?" That got his attention; McGee's head turned to look at Tony. "I just uh...when you vanished, Gibbs had me check your computer. I read about the dream," he glanced at him. "Sam doesn't think your little talk with the angel was a dream, though." After a moment, McGee turned his focus back on the smudge, leaning his forehead against the window. "So, I guess we've got more work to do, according to Castiel...and your dream."

Tim closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, slowly releasing it. "I don't wanna do this anymore," he whispered.

"McGee..."

"I can't, Tony," his eyes opened, but they fixed out the window. "This...stuff we've been 'chosen' to do; the ghosts and demons and gods... I could do that. I could deal with those things, with everyone on the team. But disappearing for three hours and not knowing what the...hell..." his eyes darted around.

"Yeah, Probie, I know..." Tony said in a tone that seemed broken to McGee. The younger agent looked at him once more. "No more leaving the house without use of the buddy-system," he told him. "And whatever it is we gotta do, if you need to sit it out this time, that's completely okay."

"Thanks..." his replied quietly.

As they began to pull into the driveway, they saw Dean working under the hood of the Impala; Sam leaning back against the passenger door, keeping him company as he worked. But once the Winchesters saw them pull in, they abandoned their tasks and headed toward Tony's car.

"Hey, man," Dean opened McGee's door and held out a hand to assist him out. "Abby called once they found you. Glad you're okay," he closed the door once he was out. "She said you don't remember anything?"

"No...sorry."

"It's okay. Just that we still haven't heard back from Cas. I don't know what to make of all this, ya know?"

"You an' me, both," McGee answered before starting toward the house.

"Bobby's fixing lunch, if you're hungry," Sam told them as they followed them.

"If it's okay with you," Tim said, "I'm pretty tired. I think I'm just gonna go upstairs and get some sleep." He paused at the door after Tony opened it, and he looked down at the threshold with a strange feeling of dread.

"McGee?" Tony questioned when he realized the agent's confused look. Tim looked up at him, then back down before stepping inside.

"Just a couple hours," he said quietly before retreating up the stairs...

11 00 11 00 11

"I found traces of chloroform in McGee's blood sample," Abby told the agents when they came into her lab. "I've been attempting to find DNA on his clothes that doesn't belong to him. But so far, I haven't found anything. Chances are, whoever did this, if it even is a who and not a what... they were wearing gloves."

"Sam and Dean found no evidence of demonic foul-play," Ziva told her. "They said there would have been sulfur near by."

"Yeah well it doesn't really make much sense that anyone, much less a demon, would just up and take Timmy and beat the pulp out of him...not even very well, I might add, then drop him off at work," Abby said. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"Unless they were trying to get some kind of information out of him," Gibbs thought out loud.

"But what could they possibly want to know from McGee?" Ziva asked. "I was out running for over an hour and no one made an attempt to grab me. I know as much as he does."

"Maybe," Gibbs said. "Won't know much unless his memory comes back."

"It might not, Gibbs," Abby said. "The amount of chloroform they had to have given him, between abducting him and dropping him off, there's no way to tell how much or how often they did it."

"Ziva, you stay with Abby and help her keep searching his clothes. I want answers, and until I get them, I don't want anyone off by themselves," he turned to leave the lab.

"What about you, Gibbs?" Ziva asked. But Gibbs didn't reply. Instead, he continued to the elevator and up to the bullpen. Just as he'd presumed, Vance was there waiting for him.

"Any luck?" he asked the lead agent.

"Whoever took him used chloroform," he replied as he sat down at his desk. "Don't know much more than that."

"And what about the wild dog attack? I heard you handed the case back over to the unit."

"Yeah. We were wrong about the hit," Gibbs casually picked up a file and opened it on his desk.

"After all the arguing to the contrary..."

"Better to know for certain, Leon. Wouldn't have wanted it to happen again just because there were special ops security protocols."

"I suppose I'll have a report on my desk by the end of the day on how, exactly, you were able to ascertain that it wasn't a hit?"

"I've got an agent out of commission right now," he looked up at him. "And another keepin' an eye on him. The rest of us are tryin' to figure out what the hell happened to him. You really want me to do some BS paperwork so you've got your files straight, right now? Or can I do my job?"

"Part of your job, Agent Gibbs, is making sure that paperwork is done; keeping me informed of what it is, exactly, that you and your team is working on. But somethin' tells me there's been more goin' on then you've been letting on."

Gibbs tilted his head up, "What makes you think that, Director?"

Vance matched his glare for a moment. "My gut."

"Well maybe you're gut could be better used to figure out who took my agent this morning," he said, cocking his head to the side. "Or has it already told you something about that, too?"

Leon narrowed his eyes at the agent for a long moment before turning his back to him and heading to the stairs. "I want that report, Gibbs. Before you leave here today."

Tbc...