Point of a Needle, Head of a Pin

Hangman prize for Shinju90. Multi-chapter.

NCIS/Supernatural Crossover


Chapter 3

"Call me Zachariah."

Tim stared at the man, barely able to suppress the irrational feeling that he wasn't a man at all.

"What do you want?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

The man chuckled. "Your boss might enjoy using this place for meetings, but it's far too cramped for me. Time to move this to a more…suitable location." Before Tim could react, the man stepped forward and placed two forward fingers against his forehead. Tim dropped his phone in surprise as darkness swirled around him, and suddenly he found himself falling quickly followed by a soft thump as he landed on his butt. The ground beneath him was soft but cold, as was the air around him, and he soon found it much more difficult to breathe. He looked around, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in his surroundings.

"Where…"

"The summit of Mt. Elbert, in Colorado. Tallest mountain in the state, 14,440 feet above sea level. Really gives you an appreciation for God's work, doesn't it?"

Tim felt a shiver course through him, which had nothing to do with the cold or the fact that he was sitting in snow. Please tell me I'm dreaming…please tell me I'm dreaming.

"Now enough of that. I already told you, this isn't a dream."

"How…how did we…?"

"Neat trick, isn't it? Teleportation. For humans, the stuff of fantasy and science fiction but a simple thing to accomplish for an angel."

"You…you're an…an angel?"

Zachariah snorted. "And they said you were one of the smart ones. Yes, I'm an angel, or at least the form of one that you can actually see and survive. An angel needs a human vessel to walk the Earth, which is why we need you. We did ask before, you know. You do remember?"

Suddenly Tim was sucked into his memories from a year ago: the strange dreams, a voice in his head, painful at first, asking him to join the battle, to accept his role in the war.

"I…I said no."

"Yes, we know. As you did last night, when we asked again. Stubborn little mud monkey, aren't you? But never mind that, we've decided we have slightly different job for you now, one that you might find a little more agreeable."

"I don't…understand any of this."

"Of course you don't, and you don't need to understand it. It's beyond the comprehension of pathetic little lifeforms such as you humans. If it was up to me, I wouldn't bother with you, but it's not. I answer to a higher power."

"You mean…God?" At this point Tim had already decided he had probably lost his mind, so it couldn't hurt anything to play along, could it?

"Well…no. He doesn't have much to do with things these days. Doesn't like to get his hands dirty, I suspect."

"Then who?"

"Michael."

"Micahel…the archangel?"

"That's the one. You see, he has his eyes on his own destined vessel, but that little mag…individual isn't cooperating. He's hidden from us. We need to find him, and that's part of why we need you."

"W-what can I do?"

"You have ways of tracking people down. Access that we don't have, unfortunately. We need a direct visual to locate our target, and we need you to get that for us."

"That's all?"

"No. You see, we've had such a problem in the past with that… 'free will' thing you humans try to exercise that we've decided that you'll need some extra supervision. A co-pilot, if you will."

"You want me to…?"

"You are still a vessel, and we need you for that, but we're willing to give you a little more of a free reign. You'll still be mostly there, and in control, because we do need your human skills, but when the time comes…well, someone else will need to take the wheel."

Tim's gut was screaming at him that this was wrong, all wrong. Even if he wasn't crazy, which didn't look like a likely option at this point, the idea of allowing something to take control of him…he didn't want to accept it.

"What…what would happen to me when someone else takes over?"

"Well, you're in luck: it's not an archangel that needs you. They tend to be quite rough on their human hosts. If all goes well, once your task is done, you'll be able to go back to your normal, if somewhat boring, existence."

"But…why do angels need to walk the Earth? Why now?"

"To stop the Apocalypse."

"What?"

"Already started, but it can be derailed. We wouldn't want it to continue, now would we? Imagine, all of this—" He spread his arms and turned his back to Tim. "-would be gone. I'd hate to see all of my father's hard work go to waste, wouldn't you?"

Before Tim could answer, he thought he heard a slight rustle behind him and felt a strong hand cover his mouth. Suddenly the darkness returned.

XXX

Zachariah smiled. He was pretty sure he'd sold it this time. This particular human was different than those damn Winchesters, much less cynical, yet conditioned to try and please someone in authority. He allowed his own vessel to take a deep breath and spoke in his most winning tone. "What do you say, Timothy McGee? Do we have a deal?"

He turned and froze in surprise. The potential vessel was gone. The angel moved to where the man had been sitting and looked down to find a pair of footprints in the snow, directly behind the marks left by his guest. Immediately he knew what that meant and felt a surge of fury.

"Son of a -!"

XXX

Jimmy Palmer carefully balanced the sample containers and clipboard in one hand as he used his other to press the elevator button. Dr. Mallard had instructed him to take the samples up to Abby, hoping that maybe she could make some sense of the strange state the body of Lieutenant Pruitt was in.

The doors slid open and when he stepped inside, he noticed a phone lying of the floor of the elevator. He picked it up and examined it, remembering that he has seen McGee with a phone that looked just like this one. Maybe the agent had dropped it on his way to see Abby? Jimmy tucked the phone in his pocket and pushed the button for the next floor up. If McGee was still in the lab, he could just return it to him, saving him the embarrassment of searching for it later.

Once the doors opened again he went straight to Abby's lab, but was surprised to find her alone.

"Hey Abby, Dr. Mallard sent these samples." He placed them on her lab table and handed her the clipboard to sign. "Was McGee here? I think I found his phone in the elevator."

"I haven't seen him, Jimmy. Are you sure it's his phone?" He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. She checked the number and a puzzled expression crossed her face. "It's his. I'm surprised he hasn't missed it already."

"I guess I should go take it to him. Unless you want to…?"

"Too much to do here, Jimmy. These samples from the scene today? Seriously hinky."

"How hinky, Abs?" asked Gibbs as he walked into the lab and placed a Caf-Pow! on her desk.

"Hinky as in Major Mass Spec can't tell me what this stuff is made of. It's not in his library, which is weird. I can't even get what elements are in this stuff… But I'll figure it out."

"Is McGee down in Autopsy?" Gibbs asked as he turned to Jimmy.

"Uh, not that I know of, Agent Gibbs."

He turned to Abby. "Call him, we need him back upstairs."

"Gonna be kind of hard to do that Gibbs. Timmy dropped his phone in the elevator." She handed it to the lead agent and he frowned.

"Maybe...he's looking for it now," offered Jimmy.

"He's supposed to be here. When did he leave?"

"He never got here, Gibbs. When did you send him down?"

"About ten minutes ago." He pulled out his own phone and dialed a number. "Duck? Is McGee there? If he shows up tell him I'm looking for him. I have his phone." He ended the call and dialed another number. "DiNozzo? Where's McGee? What do you mean he's not there?" Gibbs swore. "Where in the hell is he?" He listened. "No, he's not in Abby's lab. Because I'm here. Find him." He snapped his phone shut and turned to Abby who was watching him with wide, worried eyes.

"Where could he have gone, Gibbs? Maybe he got sick."

"He was acting weird earlier…not that I should say anything about that. I'll check the bathrooms on this floor," Jimmy stammered and rushed out under Gibbs angry gaze.

"I'll help. We have to find him, Gibbs." Abby hurried after Palmer and Gibbs shook his head. He left the lab and headed down to Autopsy, where he found Ducky still working on the body. He listened to Gibbs question and frowned.

"I'm sorry Jethro, but I haven't seen Timothy since this morning…I certainly hope something hasn't happened to him."

Now very worried, but still hiding it, Gibbs called the evidence garage, storage area, and motor pool. No one had seen the agent. Gibbs made a call to security to and when he learned that McGee had not signed out, he told them to put the building on lockdown. Finally he called DiNozzo.

"Still haven't found him, Boss. What's going on?"

"I wish to hell I knew, DiNozzo. Keep looking."

Fifteen minutes later DiNozzo reported in: McGee was nowhere in the building. The agent had somehow vanished from a secure building without a trace.

XXX

Tim felt a solid surface beneath his feat just before he tipped forward and nearly face-planted on the dirty wooden floor. He barely managed to catch himself and collapsed, wondering why the world seemed to have suddenly gone insane. He rolled over on his back and looked up, surprised to find a roof above him and walls surrounding him, all painted with strange symbols.

"Where am I?"

"Five miles west of Pontiac, Illinois."

Startled, he turned towards the speaker, different from the man who had just been speaking to him on a snowy mountaintop. This man had a full head of dark hair and intense blue eyes. He was dressed in a suit with a loosely knotted blue tie and wore a rumpled tan trenchcoat.

"W-who…?"

"What did Zachariah want?"

"H-how…?"

The man looked up, as if he were listening to something, and paused for only a moment before moving forward and crouching down in front of Tim. "They're looking for you. You need to remain hidden." He quickly placed his hands on Tim's chest and the agent felt like he was on fire as a burning agony surged through him, which dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the young man gasping in its wake.

"W-what d-did you do t-to m-me?"

"Enochian protection symbols. They won't be able to find you now."

Tim looked down at himself but saw nothing. "W-where…?"

"I carved them into your ribs."

"Oh…" Tim was quite sure now that his sanity had left the building.

"What did Zachariah want with you?"

"He…said he needed me to find someone. And that…I'd have a…co-pilot."

The man tilted his head and studied Tim, which did nothing for his state of mind.

"Did he say who?"

"N-not an archangel. But I'd be helping…M-michael."

An odd look crossed the man's face, almost as if he was not sure what emotion to display, or whether he should show it at all. Finally Tim ventured to ask a question to which he was pretty sure he really didn't want the answer.

"Who are you?"

"Castiel."

"Are you…an angel, too?"

"Yes, but Zachariah and I are not on the same side."

"So you're…a f-fallen angel?"

"No. Not like Lucifer, if that is what you mean. I am…rebelling, but not against God. Only against the angels like Zachariah, who want the Apocalypse."

"But he said he wanted to stop the Apocalypse."

"He does not."

"Angels can lie?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Tim collapsed back against the floor and covered his eyes. "I don't suppose there's any chance that this is one very bizarre nightmare…or that I'm really, really sick and this is just a fever dream."

"No."

Tim laughed, wondering if hallucinations at least told the truth.

"Then I'm just crazy, right."

"You are in complete control of your faculties, Timothy McGee."

"Just…call me Tim, please."

"Fine. Tim. You are not crazy. All of this is very real. I am sorry you were pulled into this war."

"War?"

"For the future of the human race. If Michael and Lucifer are able to take hold of their vessels, then the battle will begin, and mankind will suffer. Billions may die. I am part of a…small team trying to prevent that from happening."

"How can I help?"

Tim opened his eyes and saw that the angel was looking down at him, an almost thoughtful expression on his face. "You are willing to join our cause?"

"I think I'm kind of already in the middle of this. The other side already tried to recruit me…more than once. They dragged me from my normal…safe life, and…I don't even know if I can go back. I'm still not sure I can trust your side, but…I'm going with my gut on this one."

Castiel's gaze traveled to Tim's mid-section and the puzzled expression returned. "I do not know what your stomach has to do with your choice, but I am grateful you are willing to take a chance. Come. I'll take you to the rest of the group." Without further warning, Castiel put two fingers to Tim's forehead and he felt the now familiar sensation engulf him. The next thing he knew he was laying on his back in the middle of what looked like a wrecking yard.

"Castiel?"

The angel was nowhere in sight. Tim pulled himself to his feet and saw, a few hundred yards away, a rather run-down looking house. He staggered towards it, hoping there was someone inside who could at least make some sense of all this. Nearly all of his strength was gone by the time he reached the front steps, but before he could raise a hand to knock, the door swung open and he found himself gazing down the twin barrels of a sawed-off shotgun. Slowly he raised his hands in surrender.

The man holding the gun looked to be about Tim's own age, but something in those dark green eyes made the agent think he had seen far worse things during his comparable lifetime.

"Who the hell are you?" the man growled, and Tim saw that he had been joined by another man: taller, younger, and just as dangerous judging by how he held the pistol he had aimed at Tim's head.

"I'm…" He couldn't even begin to explain why, or how, he had wound up on the porch. Before he could attempt to form an answer, he heard a soft rustling sound behind him and the man's eyes widened as he gazed over Tim's shoulder.

"Cas? What…who is this?"

"Someone who wants to help."

The man's gaze flickered between Tim and the angel before a bemused expression crossed his face.

"Please tell me this isn't God."

Finally, everything that had happened suddenly caught up with the agent, and Tim did the only thing that made any sense.

He passed out.

TBC…