Chapter 7

"What if this never ends?"

"It will."

"What if it doesn't?"

"It will."

"How can you know?"

No reply.

Silence fell again.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"This is Tim's blood?" Abby asked, very concerned.

"Yes, and the faster you can process it, the closer we might be to figuring out what's wrong."

"He's really saying that he can't control himself?"

"That's correct."

Abby got to work on the sample.

"So...could we suggest demonic possession and get an exorcist?"

Ducky smiled slightly.

"I'm fairly certain that's not the problem."

"Is he really trying to kill someone?"

"It seems so. He's admitting it."

"This is really hinky, Ducky. This kind of thing doesn't just happen."

The doors to the lab opened and Ellie came rushing in.

"What's going on? Vance was asking about it and I didn't know what to say; so I came down here. Ms. Ubica is in one of the conference rooms wanting to know why we think she shouldn't be calling her husband."

"Timothy is down in Autopsy, handcuffed, being restrained by both Anthony and Jethro because he feels compelled to kill this woman, although he claims that he has no idea why."

Ellie furrowed her brow.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I agree, but it seems that we will have to work with things being senseless for the moment. Abigail is analyzing a blood sample. Hopefully, that will give us some direction. All we know for certain is that Timothy went to receive his scheduled allergy shot before heading off to kill his doctor's wife."

"Really? That's weird. Well...I doubt I can help hold McGee back. I'll see what I can dig up on Dr. Ubica. Tony said that we should always suspect the wife. I think the other way can work, too. Look at the husband before searching for strange coincidences. At least, now, if Director Vance starts asking me questions, I can say something."

Ellie nodded and headed back up to the bullpen.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It wasn't right that Tim should be so normal-sounding. Tony kept complaining about that in his head. He didn't like that Tim could be that badly off but at the same time be able to hold a normal conversation about how he didn't remember things that he should easily remember and how he wanted to kill someone but didn't. All in all, it was really weird and off-putting. They'd been down here for a couple of hours, now, just waiting for something to give.

"How long are you going to keep me here?"

"Until we figure out what's wrong, McGee," Gibbs said.

"Maybe you should take me to a loony bin or something. I'm clearly crazy right now."

"You still feel it?"

"Yes. The only reason I'm not trying is because I'm hoping that you'll let down your guard long enough that I can get free...but you can't do that because I don't want to kill her."

Ducky came into Autopsy.

"Abigail has found something. I think you all should see it," he said, sounding very grave.

"I don't want to leave here, Ducky," Tim said. "The closer I am to her..."

He started to pulled against Tony's grip. It was so sudden that he almost lost his hold, but Gibbs caught him as well and held him back.

"I have to kill her! She has to die! That's reality and I can't refuse!"

"Calm down, Tim!" Tony said, redoubling his grip. "Remember that you don't want to."

Tim tried to get away for a few more seconds before stopping himself, but again, he was panting as if he'd just run a race.

"You can't let me get to her."

"We won't," Gibbs said. "Let's go."

Tony took one side. Gibbs took the other. They walked, guided, dragged and pushed Tim out of Autopsy and to Abby's lab. By turns, he would try to run away from them, pull back from leaving, try to attack them, and just walk, occasionally. All in all, it was a strange situation, but perhaps, they were going to get some answers.

They got into Autopsy and Abby looked at Tim for a long moment.

"Abbs, what is it?" Gibbs asked.

"Maybe it is demonic possession," Abby said.

"It's not. You found something," Gibbs said.

"Yes. Yes! I did. And it's a lot of something. I don't know what it is, but Tim, your blood is chock full of something."

"What? What is it?"

"I don't know! I've never seen it before, but, Tim, you've got so much in your blood that I'm surprised it hasn't killed you. I mean, there are different dosages of different medications that you can take, but generally, you don't take this much of anything at once. If you'd had this much of most illegal drugs, Tim, you'd be dead of an overdose."

"That's...not comforting," Tim said.

"But that also means that maybe this will go away when the drug leaves your system."

"But how long will that take? I can't just sit around waiting to stop wanting to kill someone!"

As if the word kill was a trigger, Tim started to struggling to get away again.

"Knock it off, McGee," Gibbs said. "Is there anything you can do to get rid of this?"

"I'm not sure, Gibbs. There's a part of it that looks like it could be scopolamine, but it's been changed, and I don't know because scopolamine interacts with other medications, but...some people think that it could be used as..."

"As what?" Tony asked.

"Well, in Colombia, it's been used to drug people into a passive state so that they can be robbed...and some have theorized that it also makes them suggestible. So that they can be made to do things."

"But that's a far cry from what we're seeing here," Ducky said.

"I don't care what it is," Tim said. "I hate it!"

He closed his eyes again and started shaking his head.

"No, no, no, no," he muttered through clenched teeth.

He tried to hurl himself at the doors to the lab, but Tony and Gibbs kept hold of him. This time, however, all three of them were pulled to the ground by the force of Tim's attempt.

There was a quick scrabble and then, Tim was back on his feet, firmly restrained by Tony and Gibbs.

"I wish...I wish I was completely out of my mind," Tim said. "I hate not being able to control myself and knowing that I can't."

"What could cause this, though?" Tony asked. "I mean, sure, okay, it might make him more suggestible, but why can't we just suggest that he not kill her? Why wouldn't it work that way?"

"I have no idea," Ducky said. "You told me about a dream of killing someone, Timothy..."

Tim nodded.

"That was over a month ago. Did you continue dreaming it even after you spoke to me?"

"I don't know. I think so."

"This may be a case of building up over time. Training your body to react a certain way, forcing your mind to accept the commands until you become completely controllable."

"But how?"

The doors to Abby's lab opened up.

"And even if we knew how, who would be able to just make up some drug to do it?"

"Try Dr. Gerald Ubica," Ellie said from behind them.

"What?" Tim asked, he tried to turn around, but this time, Gibbs and Tony had a good grip on him.

"His research was part of a program set up to create a drug that would be a real truth serum. There have been a lot of attempts, but they've all failed to get an unwilling mind into the desired state."

"I'm not trying to spill secrets, here," Tim said. "I'm trying to kill someone!"

Again, he started trying to get away.

"I have to kill her! I have to shoot her! Let me go!"

He managed to get free but only got two steps before Tony tackled him. There was yet another minor scuffle before they got Tim under control again.

"Man, Tim. Stop it! Fight it!"

"Don't you think I'm trying?" Tim said. "If I wasn't trying, she'd be dead already!"

Gibbs gestured to Ellie who gulped nervously and then nodded.

"It's not a far stretch to go from being willing to answer questions to being willing to...follow instructions."

"How did you find this out?" Abby asked.

"I might have asked some...friends."

"Okay...then, why?" Tony asked.

"Well, it turns out that Shelby Ubica is loaded. She's the only beneficiary of her father who just happened to be an oil tycoon on par with the Koch brothers. She sold the company, lock, stock and barrel, after he died and she's pretty much rolling in the dough, and guess who is the only beneficiary on her life insurance policy? Her husband."

"It always comes down to money," Tony said.

"You're saying that he's using me as his hired killer?" Tim asked. "He could hire someone, pay them! This has to be the hard way of doing it."

"But you couldn't even tell us who made you do it. There would be no reason and no one would think about it," Ellie said. "You did it on your own. You weren't being paid for it. He might be looked at, but in the end, what's the evidence? ...if you'd gone through with it, that is."

"What about the results of his blood test?" Abby asked.

"When would they think to look?" Ellie asked. "We have no idea how long this will stay in his bloodstream. If he got away for a few days, it might be completely gone. No evidence of an altered state, and really, Tim, except when you were fighting with Tony, you seem almost normal."

"Great," Tim said. "Just great!" He looked at Ducky, trembling. "You said that there's a monster in all of us. Why me? Why can't I stop this?"

Ducky smiled sympathetically. "You already stopped yourself once, Timothy. And this is not you. The monster in you has been placed there against your will. It's not something you wanted."

Tim's head dropped and he shook it again.

Gibbs caught Tony's eye. He could tell that Gibbs had something in mind...but if it was a plan to stop all this, why wasn't he saying anything?

"Okay," Gibbs said, finally. "Tim, we're going to lock you in Interrogation for a little while. Someone will be watching you the whole time. Someone will be guarding the door, but we need to figure out some plans and we can't do that while we're holding you."

"Okay. I don't think I can refuse."

"That's true. Let's go."

They dragged him to the elevator, up to Interrogation and, to Tony's surprise, Gibbs removed the handcuffs.

"That's not a good idea, Boss," Tim said.

"Just for now," Gibbs said.

Then, he hurried Tony out of the room and got the door closed just as Tim hurled himself at it. They felt the vibrations through the door from the impact.

"Boss, what's going on?"

"Get everyone up to Vance's office. We've got some plans to make."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Waiting for you to send some agents to watch the door and the window."

"Right."

Tony ran off, hoping that whatever Gibbs had in mind would work.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tim felt like he was a trapped animal, like when you went to the zoo and saw the tigers walking back and forth along the walls of the enclosure. He had hoped that the feeling of needing to kill would fade, but it hadn't yet. He didn't know how long he'd been in this room, but he couldn't stand it.

Kill her. Kill her. You have to kill her. She has to die. She has to die. This is reality. It's not a suggestion. You have to shoot her.

There was no outside stimulus to counteract the voice, only the strength of his own mind, and that fight was getting harder and harder. Finally, he couldn't stop himself. He ran at the door and broke it down. He was surprised that it opened, actually, but he couldn't think clearly enough through the never-ending voice in his head to consider what that might mean.

He started running. He knew where she should be. He bypassed the elevators. They might be able to trap him that way. He took the stairs up to the bullpen.

When he got in there, he ran to the desks and found a gun. It was loaded. Perfect. He figured they must all be upstairs or downstairs, making plans. He wouldn't have much time. He had to find her. He had to kill her.

Kill her. Kill her.

Part of him was still saying no, but he'd been resisting for so long that he couldn't fight it now. His mind was exhausted with the effort. The voice was winning. He just had to go. He had to find her. He had to obey the voice.

It was reality.

Kill her. Kill her.

He paused. Where would she be? Upstairs? No. They wouldn't have her in on whatever plans they were making. A conference room? Maybe.

Suddenly, he heard movement behind him. He turned. There she was. He didn't even have to go looking. She was right there.

"Agent Gibbs, I..."

She stopped, shocked at his appearance.

"No," she said. "No, don't, please."

"I'm sorry," Tim said. "I can't not do it. I don't want to."

He raised the gun and fired three times. She staggered backwards and fell to the floor.

He stared for a moment. He'd killed her. He'd done it.

The voice faded.

In the silence, he didn't know what to do, now.

Then, the voice came back.

Run. Run. Run. Run. You have to run. You have to run. Don't let them catch you. You have to get away.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Tim said, one more time, looking at the unmoving body on the floor, tears coming into his eyes.

You can't let them find you, catch you, question you. You do what it takes to get away. You will die rather than be caught. Run. Run.

He dropped the gun and ran for the exit.