Disclaimer: I do not own them. If I did, Kate would be alive, and this story would NEVER reach the scriptwriters, because I would not feel compelled to kill anyone.
Tetris does not belong to me. However, the fictional nurse and Doctor Warner does. And Jarvis. Various random names you see belong to me (well, technically Jarvis is my friend's name, but we'll ignore that...).
Author's Note: Yay! Reviewers! Even for such a grisly story- but okay. Yes, I killed the hot guy. Are you gonna sue me? Because he and Kate are still alive in my head, and I pretend she died just in my story and not on the television...
6/7/05
Gibbs sat up, scanning the empty, flaming field. He could hear McGee a ways away, still in shock.
"Ducky?" McGee's cries had faded into whimpers, and Palmer was unconscious- if from shock, pain, or injury, Gibbs didn't know -but McGee had dragged himself over to Jimmy and furiously checking for a pulse.
Gibbs stood up slowly, not knowing what to expect. The flames were small fires now, the field's grass wet and not good kindling. As he walked to the burned body, he was fighting the impulse to cry. If the already-dead body was burned, Ducky's body was unrecognizable. The explosion had obviously been meant for him, since it was on a trigger, as it was evident as soon as Ducky had pulled out the thermometer, it had gone off. The flesh was burned and peeling, and the skin had been completely melted away from his right hand, which had the thermometer in it.
He turned away from the scene and walked over to McGee.
"Ducky?" he said hopefully, even though he could see from where he was that there was no way the doctor could've survived.
Gibbs shook his head. "Palmer?" Even after the question escaped his lips, he knew the answer. He wasn't dead. That was obvious. He was breathing. But his skin-
He'd been caught by the explosion. He had rolled over onto his burned back after the explosion, but he'd fainted, and McGee turned him back over again. His shirt was burned away, and the back of his head, his back, his legs- everything, was red, oozing, and peeling away. It was not a pretty sight.
"He'll make it- if we-" McGee was stopped mid-sentence as Gibbs pulled out his cell phone (as he should've done initially) and dialed 911, furiously barking out orders and directions, telling them the field also happened to be on fire and that he was from NCIS and they better get the hell down there. He started pacing, around the field, around the bodies, around McGee and Palmer. Around the burned M.E. and around the flaming field.
The sirens started, still a ways off, and Jimmy was alive and breathing. A good sign.
McGee swallowed as Palmer's eyes opened and he coughed.
"Did Ducky- did he-"
McGee could only manage a shake of his head, and he noted, somewhere in the back of his mind, that another member had died, and it was another Tuesday.
6/11/05
Abby was not in the best of moods. She had gone to three of her best friends' funerals in the past three weeks, and Gibbs was making her have a guarded escort. Plus, on Tuesday, she wasn't allowed to leave the office. It was for the best, she knew, but it was damned annoying. And poor Jimmy- still in the hospital, with multiple skin grafts. He was feeling better, and getting much better, and was going to survive. So the explosion was only going to get one of the team. He was scheduled to be released Tuesday, but Gibbs had automatically vetoed that, having the hospital keep him until Wednesday.
Abby had reasoned that perhaps Ari was going to strike, oh, Monday, just to make it different, but then had countered her reasoning. It would put them in constant fear, but the regular Tuesday killings was overwhelming, by them knowing every week someone else was dying.
They all knew that if the pattern continued without them catching him that Gibbs would be last. It was an unspoken agreement, and even Ari followed it. He- and they -knew that it was bothering Gibbs the most, and that he'd be the last to die. They just didn't know how Ari planned to get the rest of them. He was running out of options and opportunities to kill them off, and Gibbs made sure that they went around in pairs. He was going to be staying with Jimmy on Tuesday, and McGee and Abby were hanging out in Abby's lab. That way, he couldn't blow anyone up without killing two people, and there'd be another person to shoot them if perhaps Ari appeared and pulled out a gun. It was a slim chance, but it was about all that was in Gibbs's power. Of course, Jimmy was in no position to actually handle a gun, but Ari wouldn't kill Gibbs this early off. Oh no, he'd wait until the last week, or maybe kill him on a Wednesday, Saturday, or Monday. Just to shake things up, because there would be no more people close enough to him to torture.
Director Morrow was doing everything possible, getting as many teams as he could spare on this case, not wanting to lose any more people. Ari left no clues, but they all knew it was him anyway. They, unfortunately, didn't have any ways to track him down, or to charge him with anything, because he left nothing -nothing- to lead back to him-
Abby sighed. This was getting her nowhere. The only thing she could do was process everything that came her way. That meant everything, and so far nothing had yielded the slightest result.
She was quieter now, and her music hadn't been on since Kate's death. After Tony's, she'd stopped being the slightest bit cheerful, and now, after Ducky's, she was about ready to take a gun and shoot something- a dead body, any random person off the street, or even herself -just to get her mind off of Ari and the situation at hand. Of course, that was not going to happen, because she and everyone else knew no one would stop thinking about it while his deadly plan was in action. It wasn't going to disappear, and every Caff-Pow she drank was not going to make it go away. So she resorted to throwing herself at her work.
And it wasn't working. She miraculously was getting headaches without the music, and if she turned it on, it just made her that much more angry, and made her head hurt that much more. She hadn't yet come to alcohol, but she was about to chuck everything and go running out the door, throwing herself upon the sidewalk and scream. Scream, kick, shoot- have a complete juvenile tantrum, as if "I didn't get my way" or, a more adult version, "Damn you, Ari".
Yes, she decided, that would be better. That wasn't going to happen either, though.
So she was slumped over her computer, her tired fingers typing again and again, and her ears ringing with the imaginary music.
How the mighty have fallen, she thought scornfully. How they have fallen indeed.
6/14/05
12:28 PM
Abby's Lab
"Abby?" McGee's voice floated through the open glass doors. "Abby, you okay?"
She smiled, but it was not a usual Abby smile. It was an empty, lifeless smile, one that clearly said no, I'm not okay, but leave me alone. "Yeah, McGee, I'm fine, what's up?"
"Uh, Gibbs's orders. We're staying here for the next twelve hours," he said, grinning back, but dying inside.
She scoffed. "Well, I don't have anything else to do. I've been here for the past seventeen hours and I can't go home?" Her voice adopted a whining tone.
McGee stared at her. She was not Abby. Abby did not whine. At least for real. Ari had changed her into a disorganized, empty soul. "Gibbs's orders," he repeated feebly, giving her a pitiful look. "No, sorry, you can't."
She pointed at the armed guards at the doors. "Are they really there to help us?"
"What?" McGee did a double take, following her gaze to the eight men stationed outside of the door, with their guns drawn and ready. "Abby-"
"Are they going to get us? Are they holding the keys to the locked doors? Are they holding us hostage?"
If he didn't know better, he'd think she was drunk. But he'd seen her drunk, and she was not drunk. She was paranoid. He tried again as she stared at him fearfully.
"Abby, remember? It's Tuesday." Nice choice, McGee, he reprimanded himself as she drew into herself, still huddled in the corner. "What I mean is, it's the day that they're needed the most- of course they're here to protect us, Abby!"
And yelling wasn't helping. She'd gone to see Jimmy yesterday, and he was bright and alert, ready to get out of there. Gibbs insisted- no, Wednesday, he's not going out of that hospital on the 14th -and the doctors complied, only too happy to keep an extra eye on him. The whole back of his body was painful, and he'd been sleeping on his stomach. There were about three different IVs stuck in the back of his hand, and he didn't look very good at all. Abby hadn't been too positive of this whole situation, and seeing him like that-
Abby, now, was looking way from him, silent tears coursing down her cheeks as McGee bent down to comfort her.
It was going to be a long night.
7:16 PM
Jimmy Palmer's Hospital Room
Jimmy's eyes fluttered open, only to see Gibbs staring out the window. Gradually his gaze turned to Palmer, his worry evident in his eyes.
"You okay, Jimmy?"
Palmer nodded, swallowing hard. "What time is it?" he managed to rasp out.
Gibbs glanced a look at his watch. "About a quarter past seven. Don't worry, we'll make it."
"Where's- Abby- and-"
Gibbs cut him off. "Abby and McGee are in her lab, accompanied by eight men with guns. They'll be fine, Palmer, don't you worry."
He smiled. It felt good to smile.
Gibbs knew he was lying. He knew that someone wasn't going to make it, whether Ari would bombard the lab and manage to get all eight of the guards and possibly kill one of his agents and knock out the other one, or if he'd come through the hospital door and shoot Palmer through the head, or Heaven forbid, shoot Gibbs. But the whole point of this was to make Gibbs paranoid.
And it's working, Gibbs thought as Palmer readily sat up. The nurse was entering with the dinner rounds.
"Ooh, dinner," he said as he picked up the plastic spoon that was offered.
"Yum," Gibbs commented, his eyes traveling over the nurse's tray of dinners- the diabetics, the special ones, and the ordered ones- and a thought occurred to him. "Nurse? Could he have a different one?"
Both Palmer and the nurse stared at him. "What? A different what?" the nurse asked, confused.
"A different dinner," Gibbs answered, his tone controlled. "We're afraid for his health at the moment."
The nurse looked from one man to the other, clearly not sure if she should comply or not. "You're in a hospital, sir-"
"I'm an NCIS agent," he interrupted, flashing his badge.
She nodded, biting her lip. "I guess it would be okay," she said uncertainly, "but you know I'll have to bring it up with my supervisor."
Gibbs nodded. "Well, we've got about four and a half hours."
That made the nurse even more puzzled. "Yes, sir," she finally managed, pressing a button on the phone in the room and calling the doctor.
Palmer was eyeing the dinner trays, licking his lips.
"Well, Doctor Warner says it's okay," she told them, putting the J. Palmer, Room 121 tray on the second shelf of her table. "What's your preference?"
10:42 PM
Abby's Lab
"Are Gibbs and Jimmy still okay?" Abby asked McGee, out of her corner, and much more cheerful.
"I'm sure someone would've called if they weren't," McGee replied, absentmindedly looking at the computer screen.
She came up behind him. "Oh, that's just a lead I'm following that Jarvis's team got," she told him as he looked at her in question. She exited out of the fingerprint scan window.
"Found anything yet?"
She stared at him. "No. Otherwise we'd be out there following it. It's like he's...untouchable. A snake. He goes in, strikes, and leaves us to bleed as we search for him. With no avail." Her eyes became clouded. "And we can't catch him. Never."
"We'll get him, you know we will," McGee reprimanded her, clicking away and minimizing various screens. "You know Gibbs won't stop for anything."
She nodded, looking up at him. "Until he's stopped. Until Ari gets him too."
He sighed, looking away from her eyes. "Abby, don't think about that."
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You're right." She commandeered the mouse. "Up for a game of Tetris?"
11:43 PM
Jimmy Palmer's Hospital Room
"We're gonna make it, Jimmy," Gibbs said, leaning in to whisper into Palmer's ear. "We're gonna make it."
Jimmy was smiling, his eyes bright. "He didn't get us- he didn't get us!"
The nurse entered the room again but hung by the doorframe. "Sorry- am I interrupting anything?"
Gibbs shook his head.
She smiled. "Good then. I've just gotta change Mr. Palmer's IV." She went over to his bedside, where his IV was indeed almost out.
Jimmy grinned at her. "Call me Jimmy."
She returned the gesture. "Well, you're getting out tomorrow, so I suppose there's not much opportunity to talk to you anyway, Jimmy." She paused. "And you've been out since about Sunday. You're improving greatly."
Palmer was blushing- and Gibbs was in much better spirits. It was seventeen- sixteen! -minutes until Ari had no chance to kill them on a Tuesday. Then, perhaps, he was keeping them all in suspense by not getting them today- but Gibbs could only benefit from that. Another day, another clue...
11:53 PM
Abby's Lab
Seven minutes.
Abby was much happier too. Gibbs had just called- no casualties on his end, and nobody was dead in her lab either. All eight of the guards were alive and well, and she'd creamed McGee in three games of Tetris. She had the sneaking suspicion that he'd let her win, but she didn't care. She was happy, for the first time in three weeks.
That little voice in the back of her mind was annoying, saying, Happy because you aren't dead, because three of her best friends were, and she consoled herself by assuring herself that she was happy that Ari hadn't struck and killed her or McGee, Gibbs, and Palmer.
Six minutes.
McGee was watching the clock, like a kid waiting to get out of school. He'd stay in her lab until about a quarter past twelve, just to make sure, and then he'd be much happier. He knew that Ari might strike tomorrow, and that he'd be even more paranoid for the next month if he did, but at least he would make it through today.
Five minutes.
Now Abby was watching the door while McGee looked at the clock. The guards were all awake- probably wired on caffeine, she reasoned -and their guns still drawn. She'd give them a big hug after this was done, in addition to the amount of money Director Morrow was paying them, she'd give them a generous tip.
Four minutes.
As she was watching, she realized that a shadow was coming around the corner- and a familiar face appeared...
11:57 PM
Jimmy Palmer's Hospital Room
Jimmy was asleep. His breathing was becoming deeper and much more relaxed.
Gibbs was about to fall asleep. Tomorrow, he told himself, tomorrow you can sleep in. Remember? You don't work anymore. You don't have to worry about work anymore. The Director's already paying you on a holiday, though you're not on holiday at all.
Well, they were about to be. Morrow had ordered them all to take a nice long vacation in a different state, a different country, hell, a different planet. They had tickets- the four of them, Gibbs refused to get three -to four different places: Florida, Minnesota, Nevada, and Texas. The Director had put their out-of-country idea down- it would be much easier to find out-of-country flight records than in-country. Gibbs was going to Minnesota. He would be retired tomorrow, and he never really liked the warm states anyway.
They'd remain in constant contact, of course, just have different names, identities, and lives- Abby's hair wouldn't be black anymore, for one. They dreaded the change, not being able to be there for one another, but it was a direct order, and it was necessary.
As he watched Jimmy, he was mentally counting down.
Two minutes.
A phone call interrupted his thoughts. He took out his cell, and it said, quite clearly, Abby.
And one of them didn't get to see the beautiful June sunrise.
Author's Note: Well, I'm taking bets on who died...no, that's horrible. Just review- please -and maybe I'll update more quickly.
By the way, I live in Minnesota...and previously in Florida...and I went to Texas. And Nevada was the whole Las Vegas thing- sad, that I liked it there...but that's me. Isn't it amazing (and sad) that I'm bored and it's only the third day of summer vacation?
