Brief summarization of characters:
Ziva's team: Sarah Winchester (SFA) and Maxine Forrester became Ziva's team eight years ago when she took assignment in Paris. At the beginning of this story they got Johnathan Fitzpatrick as their new probie.
McGee's team: McGee became team leader three years ago when Tony and Abby left. His team includes Angel DeLuca (SFA,) Matt Jericho, and Shauna St. Clair (Probie) who has only been on the team for a year.
That Empty Feeling of Being Full -DeathOfSanity
Chapter 12: Angels
Angels - Jake Coco
Whenever I cried he would always make me feel like he would change the world if he could so it couldn't hurt me anymore. But now I'm crying and he's not here.
Angel woke in a daze of darkness and pain. She gasped when the wound in her leg throbbed from the cold. She attempted to reach her hand down to touch it, but only succeeded in pulling on the fresh cuts on her stomach and arms that she had gotten from crawling along the ground. It hurt to breathe; every deep breath she tried to take resulted in a sharp pain on the right side.
She looked up at the trees in the near dawn light. She was propped up on an exposed root behind a large tree, without memory of having gotten there.
She lay there, trying to keep her mind away from the inevitable. Shauna. Dead. 'Dave' had probably already found a dump site, cut the cross into her stomach, and positioned her just how he liked his victims.
And then he would come back for her.
She should have just told Shauna to run on her own from the beginning, as soon as she'd knocked 'Dave' unconscious. Maybe then she would have made it? Not that Shauna would have listened; she never did. She would have carried her if she'd had to.
A pair of headlights suddenly flashed through the treetops. A bold of fear struck through Angel's heart, and she took a breath, trying to hold back the tears.
She painfully pushed herself onto the side so that she could look around the tree she was up against, towards the barn. She appeared to have crawled about a hundred yards away from her former prison, and was hidden fairly well in the darkness. But how long would that last? 'Dave' would surely find her eventually.
The headlights continued to move silently closer from the other side of the barn as she watched. Maybe she could keep herself hidden long enough. Maybe McGee would finally find her.
Please let him find her.
The sky was getting lighter by the minute. She was running out of time. 'Dave' would find her in a heartbeat if he were to come out here now. The headlights were almost upon the barn, bringing her death with them.
But – No, wait! She could see it now. On the other side of the barn was a red tailgate, partially hidden from view. 'Dave' was already here.
McGee! He must have found her.
But...'Dave.' He was already here.
CRACK!
Dread flooded Angel's entire body as she slowly turned back over and saw him standing behind her.
He was white as a sheet and sweating profusely. He hadn't changed is clothes from before; the gray bloodstained shirt still clung to his skin, a shredded tear exposing the now infected knife wound. He looked desperate, ready to lash out at anything.
He'd never seemed more terrifying.
"Please," she tried to say, but her throat was so dry that nothing came out.
His expression did not change. He pulled her own knife from his pocket without breaking eye contact.
The car finally skidded to halt. Angel could hear four doors open and slam shut, followed by calls of "Angel!" and "Federal Agents!"
"I knew you were a cop," 'Dave' said, deathly quiet.
Angel daren't move, much less make a sound. If she kept him from strangling her for long enough, she might be found in time. She heard the barn's front door being pushed open. I'm out here! she wanted to scream.
"Lying bitch!" he said and kicked her in the injured leg. Pain exploded all the way up her body and she let out an unintentional scream.
Someone would have heard that.
Angel began to scramble, trying her best to get away. "Help! Help!" she shouted as 'Dave's' hand grabbed the back of her shirt. The front, already in tatters, tore away, but she continued trying to crawl away, her swollen right leg barely moving at all. "McGee!"
'Dave' picked her up by the middle and threw her onto her back in the dirt. He landed on top of her and placed his hands around her throat.
It hurt worse than the last time, as the previous bruises still had yet to heal.
She scratched at his hands and face with her nails, drawing blood. She wiggled and bucked in an attempt to throw him off, but nothing worked. She pulled on his hands, but he was too strong, no air could get through.
The look of rage on his face intensified as her vision grayed around the edges. At that moment, the sun broke through the horizon, lighting up the rapidly fading world around her.
Angel tried to keep fighting, but the lack of oxygen was making her head spin. Her body was beginning to weaken, when –
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Blood poured from the fresh bullet holes in 'Dave's' chest, and, gurgling, he fell on top of her.
Voices began shouting as Angel gasped for air, feeling finally finding it's way back into her body. Suddenly, Matt was there, pulling 'Dave' away. "Angel," he said, coming to kneel next to her, just as Ziva did the same thing on her other side.
Ziva held gently to her hand as she shouted for McGee.
"It's okay, Ange," Matt spoke softly, putting his hand gently to her cheek as she raggedly drew in air, his tears falling onto her face. "I never thought I'd see you again."
Ziva then stood up, letting McGee take her place. Angel grasped feebly at his shirt.
"Ambulance is on it's way, Angel," he said
"Bo-boss," Angel tried to say.
"No. Don't talk." McGee gripped her hand firmly, pulling it off his shirt and holding it against his chest.
Her voice was raspy, but she manged, "Boss, I – I'm sorry." She took in another heaving breath. "Shau-auna...dead...my fault."
"No. Shh." McGee shook his head. "It's not your fault. Just...just rest, okay? You're safe now."
Angel closed her eyes, her whole frame continuing to shake. Tim raked his eyes down her body and was horrified at what he saw.
The front of her shirt was ripped open, hanging on only by the sleeves. Her forearms and stomach were covered in bloody scrapes, mingling with dirt, and discoloring the once white bra. Bruises covered her neck and body in an array of different colors, her hair was matted with dirt and twigs, and, worst of all, a large gash on her right thigh, caked with dirt and blood, forming a sickening mud-like substance.
"God," Matt whispered.
"Ziva, where in the hell is that ambulance?"
"They were not far behind us." Headlights glazed across her face and she looked up. "There!" Johnathan stood just behind her. "Go tell them where we are," she said to him, and he sprinted away without a word.
The EMTs came running, mobile stretcher in hand. Angel appeared to have fallen unconscious, he didn't blame her. They quickly picked her up with the stretcher and got her back to the ambulance.
"Go on, Tim," Ziva said, pushing him toward the back doors. "I will take care of the scene."
"I need your help," said the EMT after they had started off. He handed Tim a bottle of water. "You'll need to clean those wounds on her abdomen. I'll to what I can for her leg."
Hands trembling – McGee couldn't tell if it was from happiness at finding Angel, or grief from losing Shauna – he unscrewed the bottle and began to pour the water over Angel's stomach, letting it drip drop to the floor.
He was glad she was asleep, because he was at a lost for what to say. It was partly because of Shauna that they found her at all. He couldn't do it on his own. He couldn't protect his own team.
What would Gibbs say? What would Tony say? McGee mentally shook himself. It didn't matter. He'd let his girls down. Shauna was gone, strangled to death by a psychopath, and Angel, left all alone in the woods, body broken and unable to defend herself.
But she as alive.
She was alive.
Angel gasped, hands shooting upwards and knocking the water to the floor. McGee quickly grabbed her hands and held them tight in his own. "Hey, calm down. I'm here."
"McGee?" Angel's eyes locked onto his and filled with tears. She croaked, "Did – did you –"
He put a hand on her cold forehead. "Did I what?"
"Did you find her?"
Slowly, Tim nodded. "Yeah, we've got her. Palmer's got her."
"I – I'm sorry. I should've –" she hissed as if in pain. The paramedic was still working to clean the wound.
"Sorry, sir. I have to do it."
"It's alright, Angel," Tim said, placatingly. "Just relax. None of this is your fault."
A small, pathetic sob escaped her dry throat, followed by a short coughing fit, and, finally, she seemed to relax.
"Go back to sleep," he said soothingly, brushing her dirty, tangled hair back with his fingers.
"Boss!"
Tim looked up and saw Matt walking hurriedly through the waiting room doors. "Boss, is she okay?" He stopped in front of Tim, towering over him and blocking out the ceiling lights.
"Sit down."
He huffed at the request, but he took the seat next to Tim. "How is she?"
"They just took her to get cleaned up. Said her leg isn't as bad as it looks, but they have to get the infection under control. The nurse said he'd tell me when we could see her. How'd you get here so fast?"
"I took our car as soon as Maxine and Sarah arrived. The techs are gonna be there all night. Plenty of murders to solve."
Tim nodded and sat back. They sat in silence for a few moments.
"I didn't want to shoot him," Matt said roughly.
Tim turned to him. "What do you mean?"
"I wanted to make him suffer. He killed Shauna." Matt rubbed his forehead as if he were fighting a headache. "He was going to kill Angel. He didn't deserved to be let off so easily."
McGee closed his eyes. It would be stupid of him to say that he hand't expected this. ‟No, he didn't, Matt. But that isn't what we do and you know it. You – we all just have to get over it. The past isn't something that we can change.″
‟Get over it!″ Matt said loudly, standing back up and looking down at him with derision. ‟You want me to get over it? Just like that? Like that bastard didn't just change our lives completely?″
Tim looked patiently up at him. ‟Sit.″
Matt's jaw was clenched as he stared him down. McGee pointed a finger at the vacated chair. He sat.
‟You know that's not what I mean,″ he said. ‟But being angry isn't going to help anybody. Especially not Angel.″ He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. ‟She needs us to help keep her on the ground. There's no way she's gonna get through it without our help.″ God, this whole being in charge thing was crap. He only wished he could be as angry as Matt. It would be so much easier.
Matt studied him for a moment, barely moving – probably not breathing – but then he finally sat back against the chair, slouching down and covering his eyes.
McGee's phone broke the silence. He checked the id; DiNozzo? He stood up. ‟Get some rest, Jericho.″
He answered it as he passed through the waiting room door. ‟Tony?″
‟Hey, McGee. Long time, no see. Picked up on the third ring, as usual.″
‟What?... Why are you calling?″
Tony's voice left the jovial for the more somber. ‟Ziva called. Told us what happened. We're so sorry. Please tell me you've found Angie?″
‟Umm – yeah. Yeah, we did. She's – well, she's not okay, but she's alive. Ziva called?″
‟Yeah. A few hours ago. Probably early morning for you guys. She said that you were about to go try and find Angel. But look, that's not why I called. We're coming up there.″
‟What? No! Tony, you and –‟
‟Nope. I'm having none of it, Tim. Besides, me and Abby have plenty of time to take off. And this is important. You need me. I know how tough it is trying to keep your team together after something like this.″
‟But what about Michah? She has school.″
‟It's already arranged. She's going to stay with our friend Carrie. Look, Tim, we're coming up there. She was our friend too. Besides, Abby's already packed and there's really no stopping her now. As a matter of fact, this isn't so much as the informative call as it is a warning notice. Expect a lot of hugs in your near fu – ow! Abbs!″
McGee couldn't help but chuckle quietly. ‟Alright, whatever. But only because I know you don't have the sack to tell her no.″
‟That hurt the feels, Tim. We'll be there about three your time, okay? See you soon.″
McGee actually felt relief. Maybe the weight wouldn't be entirely on his shoulders. And Tony really did know what he was talking about. If it wasn't for him, the team – then, Tony, Tim, and Angel – wouldn't have survived Gibbs' and Ducky's deaths.
Tim had talked about needing to keep it together to Matt, but in actuality, he was barely capable of not falling apart right then and there.
‟Uh, McGee?″
Tim twisted around, finally noticing Bobby standing right behind him. ‟How's she doin', Boss?″
Bobby looked so worried that Tim almost wanted to hug him. Instead, he put a hand on the young man's shoulder. ‟She's alive. The doctor said it's not so bad″
He smiled, relieved, but still, the pain did not leave his eyes. Shauna meant a lot to him. She had loved being down in the lab; and no matter how Bobby complained about her being in the way, he loved having her down there. His 'little helper' as he had taken to calling her, she always asked the most annoying, tedious questions, but he'd admired her 'tenacity in the face of so much math.'
‟But she'll be okay, right?″
Tim nodded, and watched as Bobby moved past him to go to the waiting room. He stood still for another moment in the middle of the hallway, desperately trying to cling to his sanity, before silently following.
AN: This was a tough one, but I finally got it out. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being such a cruel writer, but I thrive on drama. Though, it becomes a little more painful having to kill a character that you created yourself. But anyway, drop me a line. I'm flat out in love with constructive criticism, and pretty much reviews in general. Thanks!
-DeathOfSanity
