A/N: It took me a while to understand where this was going, but I'm here. There is a lot of energy in this chapter and I hope you like it. Please let me know how I did. Sheila

Surviving Winter

Chapter 14

Tony backed into McGee as hard as he could when he heard the two shots. There was something instinctive in him that refused to allow another McGee death. The moment passed, but Tony didn't experience the jolt and the shock that came with being shot. He looked at Tilson who just stood there as if contemplating a deep issue. Tony dived for his gun on the floor and rolled ready to pump the entire clip into the Sergeant, but Tilson was in the process of dropping to his knees. Dunham crumpled onto the ground beside him. Tony watched in fascination as Tilson then hit the ground face first with a thud.

He scrambled over to Tilson and rolled him over. There were two large wounds square in his chest. Tilson looked up at him, but Tony had no words for this man he'd never met. Then there was a hitch in the man's chest and his breathing stopped. CPR wasn't going to make a difference; one of the shots looked to have already pierced the heart.

Tony moved over to Dunham who was holding his head and groaning. "Good work, my friend. Two shots straight to the chest."

Dunham winced at him, one hand pressed against a cut on his temple. "I didn't shoot him. My gun is outside somewhere. It feels like that asshole dropped a bowling ball on my head."

Tony looked around wildly. Tim was still in the same position, his eyes half closed. For a moment, Tony couldn't figure out what happened, and then he saw the singed hole in the blankets around Tim. He got up and pulled blankets off McGee and found that he was clutching a Marine issue handgun. "McGee! You shot him."

McGee nodded and spoke slowly. "I've been holding this gun for two days. Kept waiting for him to discover it. Guess he didn't think I could be a threat to anyone."

Tony closed his eyes and shook his head. For a long moment, no one said anything.

"I killed a Marine," McGee said finally.

Tony glared at him. "Shut up, McGee! Give me your gun."

Tim opened his hand and let the gun slide onto the bed. Tony snatched it and looked at Dunham. Then he grabbed a towel from the wall, emptied the remaining clip, and started rubbing it down.

Tim shook his head. "I'm not sorry I did it. It was self-defense. I would do it again. But I'm not going to cover up a crime. Don't know that I can live with that."

Tony handed the towel and gun to Dunham who rolled the gun in the towel tightly and stuffed it in his backpack. Tony's cell phone rang. They all knew it was Gibbs. DiNozzo was tempted to grab it and spill everything, but Dunham shook his head. The area was filled with snooping equipment, most of it CIA, trying to listen in on conversations.

Dunham was still rubbing the knot on his head, but managed to get to his feet and look at Tony. "We drive north one hour. It's no man's land. Dangerous, but we need to take the risk. We drop him behind a hill. Six months later, someone might trip over some bones, but nobody's going to care much."

Tony rubbed his hand over his face. "I don't know."

Dunham shrugged. "We leave him here, they'll find him by smell within a day. Not sure if that's going to give us enough time to get out of this sandbox."

"I know but I…just…don't know."

McGee realized that he was nothing more than a spectator to this drama. He was fevered, but the tension had sharpened his senses. "You don't know, Tony, because it's not who you are. We don't dump bodies so they can get eaten and torn apart by animals, especially Marine bodies. When we kill it's because we have to and we face it."

Tony pointed a finger at him. "McGee, I'm running this! You don't say a word without my say so. You'd just love to confess to this."

"It was self defense, Tony."

"You confess and you will die in this country! It will give Winter just the leverage he needs to keep you. It won't matter what crimes the man committed. Sec Nav will back him on this, and he'll keep you and you'll die here. I've already been through that with you, and I'm not doing it again. Not happening! Do you understand?"

McGee blinked. "Not really."

"Are you my Probie?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me?"

"With everything," Tim whispered.

Tony nodded, his expression softening. "You're sick, Tim, and there is a lot going on here that you still don't understand. Winter told us you were dead. He wanted to keep you long enough for reinforcement techs to come, and we were impeding his ability to use you as he chose. There was never any need for you to do training here. You weren't supposed to leave Afghanistan alive."

Tim shook his head, mouth open. "That can't be true."

Tony knelt in front of him, holding McGee's eyes in his. "I don't have time to explain the whole thing to you. I have to figure out what to do and then you have to follow my lead."

McGee stared. "You all thought that I was dead?"

Tony patted his cheek. "It's okay now because you're not, Timmy, and it is my job to bring you home so we can heal some very broken hearts. Trust me like you always have."

"I'll do whatever you tell me to do."

Tony smiled, his eyes wet, and rubbed McGee's head. "I missed you so much, Probie."

Tony's phone rang again. Tony looked back at Dunham. "Can you pick it up? Tell Gibbs we'll be there in the next hour. Tell him I ran out to get the Humvee."

Tony turned back to McGee. "I'll take care of everything."

…..

The faded blue jeans fit her perfectly. She loved that the knees were worn and the hem frayed. David McGee gave her three pairs of Tim's most lived in jeans and three of his oldest t-shirts. She knew it had been an odd request, but David convinced her that she should have something of Tim's before the family began to pack up his apartment. When she thought about it, none of his collectibles or electronics interested her. What got caught in her mind were memories of Tim on the weekends in his MIT t-shirts and blue jeans taking Jethro for walks or meeting her at coffee shops. Within her grew an immense desire for the clothes that Tim wore when he was most relaxed.

David McGee hadn't even blinked an eye when she asked. He seemed to understand her need for this. She was so grateful. It felt almost spiritual when she wore his things like she could feel his presence, but she was careful not to say anything to anyone. She worried that it might make her come off as instable again.

Commander McGee came to visit her daily. They would walk upstairs and talk to the Marines. Each time they stayed longer, and told more stories about Tim and learned more about the lives of these young people.

Once Sarah brought Tim's mother, Lila, to the hospital, and Abby was so happy to meet her. Lila was tall and graceful with beautiful green eyes. Abby could see Tim in her every time Lila looked at her. It would've been nice to spend more time with her, but Lila seemed too fragile to stay long. After that visit, David explained that his wife suffered from major depression, and needed extra anxiety meds to control her grief. It explained the dullness in her eyes and the way her conversations drifted. Abby was happy to see Sarah too, but the girl was so consumed by her mother's inability to cope that she did little but focus on her. David explained that Sarah's caretaking was a coping strategy in handling her pain.

Abby wondered how Tim's dad was able to take care of both of them, and still have time to come and see her every day. Abby was ready to go home, but Ziva had insisted that she stay with her, and at the moment, Ziva was deep into the tracking of Hussain's people in Georgetown. Sister Rosita and the girls were in retreat, and so Abby couldn't find support there either. Abby was happy to go home by herself, and she was desperate to get back to her lab, but everyone still treated her with kid gloves.

"Are you ready, Abby?"

She looked up and smiled at Commander McGee. "They're going home tomorrow."

"I know. I'm going to miss them. All of them are good soldiers and good people."

"I'm sad for Joe Miller. He really doesn't have any family. Where is he going to go?"

"Well, I have some ideas, but it really depends on Joe. He just might want to explore options on his own. We'll talk to him about it, today."

"Have you heard anything from Director Vance?"

He sighed. "Vance says they haven't been in contact for almost two days. I suspect that Agent Gibbs is running his own game over there. Must be driving Winter nuts."

She smiled. "I like that. I hope they kick his ass."

She slipped her arm in his, and they made their way upstairs for one more visit.

….

Gibbs knew something was off. Dunham had mumbled a few things on the phone, but none of it reassured him. He, Ducky, and Wilson stayed near the field hospital waiting for them to arrive. It was all Gibbs could do to not start pacing, but it was important that they not draw attention to themselves.

He'd called Vance, and told him that McGee was alive. The always reserved Vance had actually let out a shout of excitement. Finding McGee alive hadn't even been among the range of possibilities. Gibbs told him that McGee was sick and they were going to need transport out of Afghanistan as soon as possible. McGee's survival was the strongest evidence yet of Winter's wrongdoing. Both men knew that as long as McGee was still in country, Winter could get to him. Vance promised he would pull out all the stops to get them out of the country.

Duck grabbed his arm, and Gibbs saw the Humvee with Tony and Dunham coming to a stop at the field hospital. The look on Tony's face told him that things were definitely not right. Tony hopped out without a word and opened the door to the backseat. McGee was sleeping under some blankets. He was more fragile looking than Gibbs had imagined he would be. Ducky scrambled in the back, and started checking McGee's vitals. He threw Tony a cross look. "His vitals are terrible. Do you get any fluids in him?"

Tony solemnly shook his head. "It wasn't possible."

Ducky pulled McGee's torso up, hugging him tightly. "We'll need to carry him inside."

Gibbs was there, taking his agent from Ducky, and holding him in his arms. McGee smelled from days of neglect and sickness, but Gibbs paid no attention. Ducky hustled him toward the field hospital. Tony exchanged a glance with Dunham and followed them.

Wilson had opened the car door to find Dunham with half of his head swollen up purple. "What the hell, Dog?"

Dunham winced. "We got a helluva problem, Smallberries."

Wilson ignored the teasing. He gently touched the bruising and Dunham howled. "We gotta' get you inside, Chad. You're going to need some x-rays."

"Nope. We got a problem. Can't leave the jeep."

"Want to fill me in?"

"McGee shot Sergeant Tilson. We got his body wrapped up in the back."

Wilson jerked back. "You brought it here!"

Dunham sighed. "The NCIS boys want to sleep at night. Wouldn't toss him in the desert. We oughta' try that sometime, Wilson. You know, doing the right thing even if there are consequences. What do you think?"

Wilson shook his head. "I'll tell you after we're sentenced to 20 years by a military court."

"Got any ideas? Body's going to start stinking. My brain is a little off center right now. You got to do the thinking for me, my friend."

…

Medics grabbed McGee from Gibbs, and lay him on a gurney. They disappeared down the hall. Gibbs grabbed Ducky by the arm and pushed DiNozzo into the nearest empty room. "Out with it, Tony. What happened?"

Tony leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. "We weren't ready for Tilson. Got sloppy. I was too wrapped up in finding McGee. The Sergeant took us by surprise. McGee shot him dead before he could kill all of us."

"McGee killed a soldier?" Gibbs said breathlessly.

"I know, Boss, but we have to find a new story. It was self-defense, but I know that's not going to sell around here. I have the weapon. It's been wiped clean."

"Where's the body?" Ducky said in a whisper.

"Couldn't drop it in the desert, Boss. McGee wouldn't have it and I knew it was wrong. Couldn't leave it in the tent. They'd find it too quickly."

Gibbs' eyes widened. "It's in the goddamn Humvee."

"Oh dear!" Ducky blinked in surprise.

"I'm trying to talk myself into taking it back into the desert."

Gibbs shook his head. "Your first instincts were right. This will come out eventually, and dropping it in the desert isn't going to look good."

"Boss, the better idea is for me to report the incident and confess. It was self-defense. We can keep McGee out of it. Get him back to the states. You'll get me a good lawyer. McGee and Dunham are witnesses. I can do this."

Gibbs dropped his face into his hand.

"They'll prosecute me in the States. We'll hire M. Allison Hart and we'll pretend she's as beautiful inside as she is outside."

Gibbs shook his head. "Shut up, DiNozzo! Nobody's confessing to anything right now."

"But Boss—"

"Shut up!"

"We have a dead body in the backseat, Boss!"

"Keep your voice down!" Gibbs hissed. "Let me think."

DiNozzo dropped into a chair. Then he noticed something. "Where did Ducky go?"

…..

Ducky walked into the refrigerated morgue and saw bodies stacked everywhere. It was what he'd hoped. He spotted a couple of Corporals sitting at a desk and approached. "Hello, my dear fellows. I have a bit of a problem, and I'm hoping you can help."

They blinked in surprise at the older gentleman with the pronounced British accent. Ducky smiled. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dr. John Smallberries of the British Royal Navy. I'm retired, of course, but recently I've been consulting with the CIA. Love to collaborate with you Americans. Anyway, we were on the road today, and stumbled upon a corpse about two hours north of here. It's a Marine. Couldn't find any other I.D. He has two bullet holes in his chest. Went quite quickly, I'm sure. Since he's one of yours, we'd like to drop him with you."

"Smallberries? Never heard of a name like that." One of the Corporals responded, his eyes narrowed. "It isn't regular protocol to just drop off bodies. You need to complete an A57-2 form and go through the investigative division."

"Oh, I have, my dear boy. I spoke to the investigators on the phone, but you can understand that they don't want the body at their division headquarters. They asked me to drop it here and then go there to finish my report. And as for my name, it is quite a distinguished name in my corner of Great Britain. It pains me that you've never heard of the Earl of Smallberries. Quite famous even though he was overshadowed by that silly Earl of Sandwich."

"Yes, sir. Didn't mean to cause no offense."

"Where shall my driver deposit the corpse then?"

The Corporals looked at one another. Then one of them pointed at the least populated corner of the large room.

Ducky raised his chin. "I'll need one of you to help. Too much weight for one man, and I'm afraid I am too ancient for manual labor."

One of them got up reluctantly. A few minutes later, he returned helping Wilson carry the body. Once deposited, Wilson and Ducky disappeared quickly.

…..

Gibbs was waiting outside the hospital waiting for the Humvee to return. When it drove up, he didn't wait for it to stop. He opened the door. "What the hell did you do, Ducky?"

Ducky pursed his lips glancing at Wilson. "Well, we couldn't very well leave him in the car here. The smell alone would draw a crowd. James and I took him to the morgue where he belonged."

Gibbs's mouth dropped.

"I was Dr. John Smallberries on loan to the CIA. The morgue is overflowing, and from the looks of it, the two Corporals running things aren't going to think about him again until an investigator comes to pay a visit, and since no one will be investigating the crime, that should take awhile."

Gibbs sighed. "You hid the body among the bodies. Brilliant, Duck, but you should have told me."

"You and Tony were too busy fighting over who was going to fall on their sword. It would have taken you too long to allow me to do the most sensible thing."

Wilson leaned out the window. "I'm going to disappear this Humvee back into the Motorpool."

Ducky nodded. "I'll check on Chad first thing."

Gibbs looked up at the sky. "Wish I knew how Vance was going to get us out of here. Winter could find us here any minute."

"Jethro, the boy is alive. We'll have to take our miracles one at a time."

….

Vance stood before the MTAC screen, arms folded. Sec Nav glared at him. "Your agent is alive and you want me to arrest Colonel Winter for his resurrection?"

"He was found with one of Colonel Winter's men. We believe that Winter faked his execution so that he could use him as he wished."

"That's not evidence, Vance. I'm surprised at you."

Vance shook his head. "Right now, all I care about is getting all of them out of there safely. I spoke to the CIA Director, and he has volunteered one of his company transports already in Afghanistan to bring them back to Washington. Two of his agents went off the grid to find McGee. Winter will have them arrested if we try to use official transport."

"Which is exactly what Gibbs did when he got there after I expressly forbid it."

Vance stiffened. "Sir, it is my contention that your regard for Colonel Winter makes it imposs…difficult for you to see his criminal actions. Gibbs would not have found McGee if he stayed within official parameters."

Sec Nav reddened. "You have given me accusations only. Find me some evidence and we'll talk. I resent the implication that I can't see the forest for the trees."

"Yes sir. I would apologize if I didn't fully believe what I just said."

"Get them out of there. If Winter catches them first, then I'm going to have to get involved, and I promise you that nobody is going to be happy then."

….

It was a couple of hours before McGee wasn't being fussed at by a number of medical personnel. X-rays were taken, blood was taken, and IV's were inserted. A nurse tried to explain to Gibbs the concept of visiting hours, but he wasn't listening. He sat in a chair in the corner of the room and couldn't be moved. Apparently, medical personnel had some experience with particularly stubborn Marines, and so no one attempted a power struggle. Wilson and DiNozzo were in communication with CIA making arrangements for the company jet to fly from Kabul to Kandahar. Dunham was enduring some x-rays on a possible skull fracture and Ducky was trotting back and forth between patients, reading charts and consulting with doctors. He had to make sure that both Dunham and McGee were strong enough to travel.

Gibbs let his head rest on his chest and sleep for awhile, but he stayed attuned to every noise. He heard the first groan McGee made as he was waking, and then he was up on his feet, leaning over the young man. "McGee?"

McGee looked around in confusion as if trying to orient himself. Then he settled on Gibbs. "Am I home yet?"

Gibbs shook his head. "We're getting closer. We're trying to get you ready for a long plane ride."

McGee nodded. "As long as I'm not flying it, I think I'll do just fine."

Gibbs placed the back of his hand on McGee's forehead. "You still have quite a fever."

"Pneumonia, Boss. I'll be fine." His words were soft and ran together. It was clear that McGee wasn't anywhere near fine.

Gibbs pretended his agreement with a nod.

McGee's brow furrowed. "Boss, I got something to tell you, something you're not going to like. It happened after Tony and Chad found me."

Gibbs shook his head. "Don't say it, McGee. I already know."

"It was self defense."

"I know."

"Still it was a Marine, and I understand if that changes things between you and me."

Gibbs blinked in surprise. "It doesn't change anything, Tim. Nothing. He was going to kill you, and you did the right thing. I don't want to hear another word about it."

McGee nodded. "I understand that there will be consequences."

"Look at me, Tim. You will not talk about this again until I say you can. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Boss."

Gibbs relaxed.

"I believed everything. I believed that you knew I was okay. I believed most of what he told me."

Gibbs nodded. "Before we were told that you'd been killed, I was waiting for you to return because I wanted to tell you something. I wanted to tell you that you were a real soldier in my eyes. I wanted you to know that."

Tim shook his head. "I didn't get in the fight."

"Listen to me. A soldier is someone who sacrifices himself for the greater whole. That's what you did. And when you do that, you have to trust that your sacrifice will be respected. A real soldier can't always be looking around to make sure his back is covered. You sacrifice and you trust that your sacrifice will be honored and it wasn't. None of that was your fault."

McGee's eyes watered. "I don't know what to say, Boss."

"Just rest, Tim. We gotta' get you home. Everyone has missed you. I can't wait…Abby…it was really rough…it will be very good for her to see you again."

McGee closed his eyes. He knew better than to ask for details.

Gibbs patted his arm. "Don't worry about anything. We're going to get you home, and in a couple of weeks, I'm going to be barking at you at another crime scene."

McGee swallowed and nodded. For awhile, the two men sat there, Gibbs' hand on his arm, both imagining a welcome return to the mundane. Then there was a loud ruckus out in the unit. Voices were raised and there were sounds of boots running. Gibbs cursed and grabbed McGee's arm. "Remember everything I just told you, Tim."

The door burst open and Marines with guns ran in. An officer followed. "Special Agent Gibbs, you are under arrest for several breaches of security and acts of sabotage."

Gibbs stood up and didn't resist as they roughly handcuffed him behind his back. Gibbs kept his eyes on McGee until they shoved him out of the room.

….

"We got a text from Dunham 15 minutes ago. They've all been arrested. No one got to the plane."

Vance waited until the image of the CIA Director disappeared before he cursed loudly and threw his pen at the screen. Brownie groaned as the pen pierced the expensive screen. Ignoring him, Vance grabbed his phone and hit a number. "Hey, it's Vance…Get your ass over here…I got a story, and right now I need all the access and chutzpah you have in you…Hurry up!"

…..

TBC

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