McGee found that it took him a while to extract himself from Abby after dropping that bombshell on her. She had a million questions, of course, but she rarely waited for the answer before either asking a new question or spurting out homespun theories. Tony had to remind her twice that processing the evidence was a matter of urgency, before she shooed them out of the lab, acting like they were the ones disturbing her in her work.

Gibbs and Ziva were in the bullpen, Ziva was just hanging up the phone.

"Anything good?" McGee asked her hopefully.

"Perhaps," Ziva said. "A farmer about two miles from the prison has reported that his car has been stolen. There's a BOLO out and all the roadblocks have been notified. If we're lucky, he will be apprehended quickly." She shot him a kind smile.

McGee appreciated the attempt, but he wasn't about to let his friend make a fool out of herself just to appease him. "Thanks, Ziva," he said. "But you know just as well as I do that a stolen car and that kind of head start means that Denny is most likely miles away already. It's looking more and more probable that he was long gone from the area before the alarm even sounded."

Ziva frowned at him. "Don't be negative, McGee. It does not suit you."

"Does anyone have any idea of how he got out yet?" Tony asked, sitting down at his desk.

Ziva shook her head. "I talked to prison security while you were emptying out Denny's cell. They are working on it, but there is nothing obvious. No holes in the wall or anything. They have him on camera walking through a door he is not supposed to have access to, but they don't know how, yet. But they said he was a model prisoner. Hardly ever in fights, and even when he was he was never the instigator. He kept to himself, no obvious gang or group affiliations. He hasn't spent a day in isolation in 15 years. Worked in the kitchen and the infirmary. Never any trouble."

"So basically, they stopped watching him that closely," Tony concluded.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Ziva said, nodding. "He didn't make any trouble, so they didn't expect any trouble. Really came back to bite them, huh? Is he smart?" She turned to McGee who blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"You are smart," Ziva explained her thinking, "Went to college while you were still in diapers, right? Well, is he the same? How elaborate an escape plan is feasible here?"

"Oh," McGee nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I suppose he was—is smart. His grades were awful his senior year, but that was because he didn't even try. Too busy murdering people, I suppose. But I would say he is smart."

"Hey, focus," Gibbs was noticeably irritated. "I don't care how he got out. That's the prison's problem. I care about getting him back in! We're leaving the area around the prison to the FBI, they can do the legwork. We are figuring out where he's going." He looked expectantly at McGee.

McGee just shrugged. "I couldn't tell you, Boss."

"Does he know where you live?" Ziva asked. "Would he come looking for you?"

Again McGee shrugged, pulling a face. "I doubt it. We haven't kept in touch. He probably knows where mom and dad live since mom still writes him now and then, but I don't really see any reason why he would be interested in us."

"Revenge, maybe?" Ziva speculated. "You did put him in jail." She could immediately see that the thought shocked McGee.

"No!" he protested loudly. "He would never… I mean, he was probably very angry with me, and yeah, maybe he even blamed me, but he wouldn't hurt me. I know he wouldn't hurt me."

"Are you sure?" Tony asked, looking a little concerned. "You said it yourself, you don't know him anymore. And we know he's prone to violence."

"But he's my brother," McGee said, brows furrowed. "I just can't imagine…"

Gibbs looked thoughtfully at his agent. He had been expecting this. He had known that McGee wouldn't be able to stay as emotionally detached from the case as he had claimed he would, it wasn't in the younger man's nature. "You be careful, McGee," he warned. "I've seen brothers do worse to each other. You can't predict what will happen if it comes down to a situation where you are the only thing standing between him and freedom. And you have to mentally prepare yourself to aim a gun at him, with the intention of shooting to kill, if worse comes to worst. If you can't do that, you will be a danger to yourself, the team, and anyone else who might be present. If you can't do that, I will dismiss you here and now. "

McGee swallowed hard. "I know, Boss," he said slowly, processing his thoughts. "I still don't think he would hurt me, but you're right, I shouldn't take it for granted. If I'm the one who has to do it, I can and will take him down." After all, I've done it before, he thought. "I promise, Boss," McGee said, remembering the woman he had seen die at his brother's hand. He would never let that happen to anyone ever again. Not if it was in his power to stop it. "I won't put you in danger. I would never do that to you."

Gibbs nodded curtly. "See that you don't."

McGee turned around to go back to his desk and saw that Tony had pulled up a picture of a man on the plasma screen. It took him a few steps and a few moments before he registered who it was. He stopped midstride, and just stared.

"McGee?" Ziva asked after a few moments, when he still hadn't moved.

"That's him, isn't it?" McGee asked rhetorically, still staring. "He's so old! There are even gray streaks in his hair…"

"Well," Tony said. "You haven't seen him since he was 18. What did you expect?"

"I don't know," McGee said uneasily. "I hadn't really thought about it, I suppose. You know, I don't think I would've even had recognized him if we had met on the street… It really has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"You're still looking at him with a kid's eyes," Gibbs remarked. "You're both grown now."

"You're right," McGee said, tearing his eyes away from his brother's photo. "Of course you're right. It's just… weird."

"Timothy!"

McGee looked up as he heard his name being called. Ducky was standing on the landing outside MTAC, calling down to him.

"Yeah, Ducky?"

"I wondered if I might have a word with you?"

McGee looked quickly at Gibbs who nodded. "Sure," he answered.

"Wonderful," Ducky said. "Meet me in the elevator?"

"Okay."

When the elevator arrived at his floor, McGee stepped in and nodded a greeting at Ducky. He waited until the doors had closed before he spoke. "So you've heard?"

"Yes, I heard," Ducky confirmed. "I feel that I must extend my sympathies to you. I can only imagine how traumatic these events must have been for you at such an early age and I appreciate how very difficult you must find the situation you are now in."

"Uh… thanks," McGee said uncomfortably.

"I have just come from a meeting with director Vance—"

"He's the one who told you?" McGee interrupted. Maybe the director gossiped after all.

"Aye," Ducky said. "As there is no need for my medical expertise in this case, not as of yet anyway, the director has asked me to turn my mind to creating an apt profile of your brother."

McGee snorted. "I hate to burst your bubble, Ducky, but it's already been done."

"Oh?" Ducky's eyebrows rose. "How so?"

McGee's eyes wandered about the elevator car for a bit, before settling on the older man. His shoulders hunched and he seemed to shrink into himself, obviously uneasy with the subject. Ducky frowned, concerned with his behavior.

"He's already been checked out from here to Timbuktu," McGee explained, crossing his arms defensively. "Even before the trial started every profiler and forensic psychiatrist in the world wanted to get their hands on him and figure out what made him tick. Apparently he was something of an enigma. There's a plethora of scholarly articles written about him, even more non-scholarly articles and at least three books, that I know about anyway. And some awful TV-movies."

"Yes…" Ducky said ponderingly, reaching out to put a hand on Tim's arm. "Yes, I imagine there would be. But for the moment, we are not interested in why he did his deeds, are we? We want to profile what made him leave his prison, and where he is headed. What his motive for escape is. But I will need to look into his past motivations too, of course. Is that something you could help me with?"

The doors of the elevator opened down in the basement and they exited and walked into the autopsy room.

McGee shook his head. "I've never read any of the articles and I've never looked up the old case files. I've never wanted to know. I'm sure I could help you find them if you wanted, though," he said, gesturing towards Ducky's computer.

"No, thank you, Timothy," Ducky said, moving closer to his desk, McGee following him. "I can do that myself, I'm a quite competent scholarly researcher, you know. You have much more important things to do. It's your personal reflections I'm interested in." He sat down in his desk chair, patting the corner of his desk invitingly.

"Whatever I can do, Ducky, but I haven't had any contact with him since I was 12," McGee shrugged and sat down on the desk. "I'm not sure I can be of much help."

"That is fine, Timothy," Ducky assured him, leaning over and patting him on the knee. "I never meant to make you uncomfortable."

"It's okay, Ducky," McGee smiled shyly at him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my boy," Ducky said, pulling back again. "Of course. Go right ahead."

"Well…" McGee said. "Could it be that Vance has asked you to do a little profiling on me too?"

"He has asked me to suss you out a little, yes," Ducky said carefully. "He does have the unfortunate task of thinking of the political ramifications should this investigation go any less than stellar. No matter which attitude you take towards the case, your participation will always be challengeable."

"So he wants to know what my attitude is?" McGee asked, exasperated.

"Oh, we already know your attitude," Ducky assured him. "What Vance wants to know is how likely it is that your attitude will change and swing towards compassion towards you brother. He trusts you right now, because of your known character and your exemplary record, but family is always a difficult matter."

"I'll never change my stance," McGee said harshly. "I know what my brother did, because I saw it with my own two eyes."

Ducky startled with surprise. "You saw it?"

But McGee wasn't listening to him. "This is a difficult situation for me." He stood up and started pacing. Ducky swiveled his chair to keep looking at him. "I turned him in, Ducky, and got him sent to prison and it tore me apart. It took a long time to come back from that and I never in a million years imagined I would have to do it again. Maybe I won't have the strength to slap the cuffs on him myself, but I will never let him get away as long as it is in my control. I promise you that. But it's only been a few hours since I found out, Ducky. My head's still spinning. Not only will I have to confront my own long-suppressed demons, I have to show them to everyone else too."

Ducky reached out a hand and snagged McGee's sleeve to stop his movements. "What is your biggest fear, Timothy?" he asked once he had established eye contact.

"My biggest fear?" Tim huffed unhappily. "That Denny will murder someone before we can catch him, of course. I'm scared, okay? He's a pathological serial killer who has been denied his needs for more than 20 years. I'm really scared that he'll start killing again. I don't want to go to that crime scene. I don't want to stand over the dead body of another woman and look at her wounds and know that my brother did that to her. I don't want to interview her family and know that it was Denny, I don't want know that someone I was once so close to is capable of hurting other people so much. I don't think I could handle that. It was hard enough the first time." He swallowed hard. It felt like all the air had left his body.

"That is understandable," Ducky agreed sympathetically, "And I share your hope that that will not be required of you. But I was thinking about your biggest fear for yourself. How this will impact your life, your work, your family, your relationships."

Behind him McGee could hear the automatic doors opening and he glanced back, seeing the whole team, including Abby, entering autopsy. He turned back to Ducky. "What you have to understand is that all this happened 22 years ago. Things are different now. Circumstances are different. It was the first couple of years that were the toughest, but my I've built a new life. I was only 12. Look at what I've done with my life since! My family has moved on. Mom's worked at the same school for almost twenty years. Dad rose all the way up to Admiral. Once Sarah was well again and we moved to Virginia, everything changed."

"Once Sarah was well?" Ziva asked from behind his back. "Was she sick?"

McGee sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, summoning up the extra strength he knew he would need for this. It was no coincidence that they were all here. Most likely it had been staged. Gibbs had sent him down here with Ducky to soften him up because Gibbs wouldn't wait forever. The few hours of reprieve he'd already given McGee was by far the most patient Gibbs had ever been when it came to extracting information from someone. Not that McGee hadn't already known that this would be inevitable. So, no time like the present, right?

It was story time.

xxx

TBC…