Karon watched Tim trying to crawl on the ground, the agent perfectly knowing there wasn't a lot he would be able to do in order to escape…he tightened the fabric between both hands and angrily approached McGee.

— Wait…no…

If only he could have said so much more than this…but maybe it was only the lack of energy, or maybe he was just too scared to dare speaking again…maybe he wasn't the agent he had always hoped to be.

— Now this is really the end…Karon said, half-breathless. You filthy animal, you killed my family, so now this is your turn…

Tim stared at the fabric with terrified eyes, knowing he didn't feel strong enough to keep fighting back, knowing he would soon stop being able to breath…
— — — — — — — —

(At the same time…)

— Wait, boss, stop !

But Gibbs didn't care staying where he was anymore. They had heard a few additional groans coming from the other side, although they were pretty sure there was no dead yet, but he was definitely decided to make a change.

— Gibbs ! Tony repeated, but Ziva simply put a hand on his wrist, indicating him to follow Jethro and shut up.

It was as if they had a veil if front of their eyes, as if they had completely forgotten they had backup firing at the enemies as well from behind…all they did was raising their guns and throwing bullets in the opposite direction, tired and wishing to the bone that everything would end up alright.
— — — — — — — —

Karon kicked Tim's ribs and raised the shower curtain in front of him, the young agent feeling the blood staining his face and the energy leaving him softly…he painfully breathed in and out, his heartbeats' rhythm increasing like a time bomb.
A sound escaped his mouth as the wet fabric got pressed against his head, and he prayed for death to come the soonest possible.

« A feeling, McGee ? You told me it was over, you looked at me in the eyes, telling me these 'feelings' would disappear with the cases you had promised to not work on again.
— Well, that was before you forbid me to come to the interrogation… »

Tim didn't know why silence was bringing back painful memories to his mind when he was only supposed to fight back, or face death. But that was how it was : forced silence was making him fall into deep, dark nostalgia…
A kick right between the legs, exactly where it was painful. Simple, but direct. Tim had pushed his foot stronger than he had expected. In fact, if he had to be honest, he hadn't expected to do anything at all, but it was like his body was fighting for him from time to time, and this, whether or not he was feeling alright with that decision. Karon's upper teeth reflexively hit the bottom ones as he tried to resist the blow, but it was hurting too much, so Tim tried taking advantage of the situation by 'letting' his body drive him out of here, at least a bit further from that now awful bathroom.
'Take back the guns' he thought. But standing up again and rushing to that bedroom was almost like a suicide mission in his mind. Even Karon himself hadn't cared at all grabbing his own weapon again, simply deciding to hurry to the bathtub, his victim under control...his soul, if he had one, only driven by violence, pure hatred, and the wish to make someone suffer instead of quickly killing him with the help of a gun... But a minute later, Tim was already standing up. Painfully, obviously, but still not really acknowledging how he had managed doing so…survival instinct, yes, now he guessed that was what it was. A fist suddenly hit his head and pushed him against the wall, Tim's palms barely cushioning the impact. A second fist attacked him right in the stomach and he then felt something crack under his skin, something incredibly scary to experience.
He momentarily thought of the other agents, probably outside…yes, according to the gunshots he was now hearing, all coming from the other side, people seemed to be fighting against some others. But why didn't he have noticed them before ? He didn't wait for an answer and refocused the best he could. Now there were only three possibilities : there could be someone from NCIS down the road, who might be trying to kill Karon if it happened for him to be easily fired at, or the Agency could accept the sacrifice of risking killing one of his agents in the process, if they really had the opportunity to get rid of a very dangerous terrorist they had been looking for since forever, or…
'Oh no' Tim thought. 'I'm gonna have to kill him, myself.'
He felt the adrenaline take a sweet control of his body again, knowing he was too exhausted to keep using violence…but he had to face reality. Yes, if he wasn't, at least, trying to do the job himself, NCIS or Karon would almost have the same chances to decide to make him disappear from the earth's surface. Tim stopped thinking and watched his arm throw a fist at his enemy, in turn, then hit the opposite head with his own.

Survival instinct…

Survival instinct.
— — — — — — — —

A man hit Gibbs' head with a gun and watched him fall along the wall, ready for some more.

— Freeze ! Ziva ordered.

But the man didn't try to stop his action, raising his weapon in from of him, so her bullet went out.

— Tony, watch out ! the woman added as a second man got ready to shoot him, but one of the other NCIS agents fired at him from afar, saving his life.

— Come on, boss, Tony helped Gibbs standing up again when no one seemed to be around. Man, this corridor is way too small for us, he forced a smile.

Jethro stood up as expected, but it still seemed to soon for him to say anything, yet. Wow…so even 'Gibbs the Machine' could be shut down from time to time, with a hard knock ? The thought of it made him clearly smile again, but he refocused on the situation and wondered why it was suddenly turning so calm. They had barely noticed the silence, but now…

— NCIS ! Hands up ! Agent Turner pronounced from his spot, checking if there was anyone else conscious enough to react on the other side.

Tony, Ziva and Gibbs instinctively raised their guns right in front of them, now more awake than ever, waiting…until Jethro noticed the small fingers' sign of Agent Turner, who was trying to send him a message. There still was another man in the building.

— NCIS ! Hands up ! Agent Turner repeated, nervouser than before.

But Gibbs suddenly put an index on his lips, indicating the others to be silent, now listening to the slight, very slight rolling sound…

— Everyone, fall back ! Ziva brusquely almost shouted, the group of agents immediately obeying the new order.

What looked like a marble rolled to a wall angle and didn't take a lot of time to explode. Pieces instantly fell to the dusty floor, the corridor's material enduring the new destruction, but Ziva didn't wait for the situation to get better to shoot at the enemy again. Bullets were definitely coming from both sides, but now she was decided to bring that situation to an end.
— — — — — — — —

…Tim was enduring an umpteenth blow when what looked like a small bomb exploded on the other side of the apartment, extremely close to his door. Both men jumped and fell down as they got surprised by the outside detonation, and Tim took that opportunity to fight back another time. He raised a fist to Karon's head and tried reaching his desk again, hoping he wasn't too near the broken window, hoping he wouldn't be near enough to be killed by his own Agency down the road…Karon hit the floor but grabbed the opposite ankle in the process, McGee hitting the floor as well, so Tim raised a hand in the closest seat's direction and tightened his fist around the leg of it, clumsily throwing it and making it rolling against the man's body. A deeper groan escaped Karon's lips before he wrapped his bloody fingers around a glassy bottle on a small table nearby, ready to break the young agent's skull with his new, improvised weapon, but Tim kicked him the best way he could with the help of one of his painful feet and managed rushing to the bedroom, desperately looking for his gun. He had almost forgotten how it was to use a gun.
He tried increasing his pace as he approached the bedroom, but he ended up falling down at the entrance of it, too tired to stand up normally, and it was more like a zombie walk when he started moving again like half a human, dizzily approaching the mattress and guns around...now he had real troubles to breath, and a damn blood taste inside his mouth. His heart jumped under his skin when he finally saw one of the dark weapons and grabbed one between fingers, knowing he now had a chance to be safe.
A crack around his wrist. A hole in the ceiling. Karon by his side, as if he'd never left and never would. Why did he seem to have all these small blackouts, almost forgetting things, and watching himself do things when he thought he'd rather be dead and in peace ? McGee managed getting rid of Karon for a second after they both fired at the ceiling numerous times during the fight…and he finally raised the gun in front of him, becoming the one to decide.

— What are you waiting for, Timothy McGee ? the man angrily asked, breathless, cleaning his mouth.

Tim painfully swallowed, that same taste of blood along his tongue making him want to throw up…he could notice the slight shaking of his hands as well, although he knew it was due to tiredness, this time. Yes, he had been way too far, now, to feel scared again of anything, or anyone.

— Shoot ! Karon insisted, a tired smile on his lips.

Tim nervously blinked, but didn't wait to obey the criminal. Now everything would be over. For ever.
He faced the one responsible for all his suffering and heard the click of the weapon...but there was no bullets left. At least not inside the gun he had in hands.

— No…he instantly mumbled.

Karon revealed a wide smile, this time, before turning very serious again. Both damaged hands painfully, although violently, opened the thick belt around his trousers and let the young agent discover what could be inside...

— I guess it's gonna be my way, then, Tim's future murder said, revealing a small knife.

Tim didn't get a second to move away, nor hide, and it hurt so much he couldn't speak. Instantly falling to the floor, he weakly blinked once or twice before closing his eyes...a sharp knife planted in his shoulder.