A/N: Well, my muse is back. And right in the middle of my half-yearlies. These tests could determine my life, and my mind wants to write stories! Ah, well, at least I'll do alright in English. I'm in Year 11, if anyone wants to know. I started this story in Year 10. See how bad I am at updating? I was supposed to be studying when I wrote this. Shh, don't tell anyone.

It's kinda weird having to write Kate again – I've gotten used to Ziva. Her personality might be a bit off, 'cause I haven't seen her in ages. I blame it on the emotional roller coaster she's riding. I know you hate Kate right now (points to angry reviews) but here I offer an explanation, so don't get too fired up.

Kudos to possiblycrazee, whose collaboration helped me out!

Enjoy!

It had been a week now.

An entire week, and still she hadn't caught him.

Every time he had a seizure, it seemed like he was daydreaming. She just couldn't tell he difference. And by the time he shook his head, grinned, and said "What?" it was too late.

Abby was watching her much like an over protective mother would watch the neighbourhood 'bachelor'. She knew it had been a bad idea to confide in the lab technician. She just didn't understand.

Gibbs was giving Tony an unusually wide berth as well, which resulted in him hanging out with Abby most of the time.

Kate drummed her fingers on her desk. At least here she was safe.

'But Abby has no idea of the danger…'

This thought disturbed Kate greatly. Something had to be done. She checked her watch. 'Just in time.' Frowning resolutely, she grabbed her coat and made her way toward the elevator.

The Father will still be at church.

"I dunno, Abs, it's like all of a sudden they hate me."

Abby ducked her head guiltily, pretending to be mesmerised in the DNA test she was running.

"Well, give them some time."

"It's not like they have to make major changes! I'm still trying to do my job properly, the least they could do is help me out!" Tony waved the folder that had been 'handed' to him by Gibbs in the air. "Look at this! I can't carry a gun, I can't drive – I took the damn bus to work today! My baby's sitting at home, just waiting to be started up, and I pay to ride in a mass transport vehicle that reeks of human excrement."

Abby frowned, concentrating hard on finding new and exciting patterns in the blood she was analysing. "Well… they probably just don't want to rub it in your face that they can do those things." Man, she sucked. She felt Tony's disbelieving eyes boring a hole into the back of her skull, so she turned and faced him, finally giving up on playing join-the-dots with red blood cells.

"Alright, so maybe they just feel awkward. After all, it was a bit sudden."

Tony didn't look satisfied. "Still, they could at least say something. I mean, I'm still the same guy!"

"Not according to Kate, you aren't."

"What?"

Oops.

The wind whipped around her , tearing at her hair and threatening to push over her slight frame. Pulling her heavy coat tighter around her, she made her way up the steps, into the cold, stone church.

"Father Adams? Are you here?" Her voice echoed around the walls of the room, emphasising her size and location, making her feel more and more exposed.

But then, that's what church is for, is it not? To 'expose' yourself.

"Miss Todd?" Father Adams emerged from seemingly thin air, causing Kate to jump. "What are you doing here now, in this weather?"

"I have to talk to you."

Father Adams looked Kate over. Her hair was windblown, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes held nothing if not despair. He sighed in resignation.

"Alright, come and sit down." His Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup would have to wait.

They sat in the pews, trying to make themselves comfortable and ignore the howling wind outside.

"Father Adams…"

"Yes?"

"Do you remember the incident I reported to you about a week or so ago?"

He smiled, recalling the details of his little house call. "Yes, I remember it quite clearly."

Kate fidgeted with her scarf. "Well, I still haven't found an opportunity."

Now, this surprised him. He believed that if the boy was demon possessed, Miss Todd would get him quickly, as he would most likely be having frequent re-lapses.

"I'm not sure," continued Kate, oblivious to the Father's confusion, "but I think it would be good if somehow we could have him under surveillance or something. Do you have a room – like a cellar - here you could lock him up in… or…"

It was one of those moments. Those moments where you suddenly stop and go 'What on earth am I thinking?'. Everything up to now had made perfect sense in her mind. It was as if she had been walking around in a fearful daze, and then suddenly woke up to find herself requesting that her colleague be locked up in the church cellar.

Next thing she knew, she'd be leading a witch-hunt.

"Oh, my." Her eyes widened as she realised what she was saying.

Father Adams just sat serenely, understanding now what was going on, and not about to stop her new self-discovery route.

"I – I didn't mean that. I just… I think I need to… think." Kate looked thoroughly flustered, as she stood, confusion seeping out of every pore.

"Katie."

She stopped.

"Sit down."

She obeyed.

"Has he been treated by a doctor, Katie?"

"…yes. But – "

"Katie."

Silence.

"What did the doctor say?"

Silence.

"What did the doctor say, Katie?"

"He… he has Epilepsy. Seizures… no known cause… they just come…" She suddenly turned violent. "But that can't be it! There's a cause for everything! They're wrong!"

"Katie!" She quietened. "You of all people should know that many things happen without any explanation. Not everything can be slotted neatly into categories."

"But…"

"Some fits are brought about by demon possession, true. But a lot are brought about by medical conditions. I can only help with one. I'm no good with the other."

"But…"

"But what, Katie?"

Kate bowed her head, ignoring the tears flowing freely down her face.

"It has to be possession."

"Why?"

Kate looked up, frantic, pleading.

"Then you can fix it! It can stop right now! Today! And it'll be the same as it always was! We can do jobs together, I'll make fun of him, he'll tease me back. He'll make sexist remarks, and everything will be fine!"

Father Adams reached out, and hugged Kate, who curled up, sobbing, on the pew.

"Wishing doesn't make it so. You can still have all those things."

"But he'll die, I know it! He can't take care of himself! He always jokes around too much for his own good! He'll die, just like James!"

Ah. He had forgotten about James. He was, bright, intelligent, witty. He was her cousin, whom she loved like an older brother. The poor boy had a brain tumour. But that's not what killed him. The symptoms of a brain tumour include seizures. He had decided he wanted to spend his last days with his family. With Kate. But travelling home with her, waiting on the deserted platform for the train, he had a fit. He fell onto the tracks. She jumped down, and tried to move him, of course, but…

He was shaking too hard. He was too heavy.

She was just a girl.

And it had to be that one time that the train wasn't late.

"Listen to me. He won't die. He isn't doomed to the same fate as James."

"The shaking…"

"You're older now. You're stronger. Stick with him. Take care of him. Because of you, he might avoid ending up like James."

Kate turned to Father Adams. Yes… That made sense. By taking care of Tony, she could redeem herself for loosing James.

She refused to loose them both.

She broke into a wonky smile through her bleary eyes. A bit shaky, true. But the first true smile she had smiled in a while.

No-one there.

Tony sighed, sitting at is desk, looking at the conspicuously empty desks of his colleagues. He used to love work, but now it just seemed a burden. The walls seemed to close in, and the fans to suck up air instead of circulate it. He knew this wasn't good for him. 'Stress is one of the triggers. So is hyperventilating. So, if you value your scull, chill, and quit breathing like that!' He reprimanded himself.

Maybe he should quit. He could only do research now (Although he was pretty damn good at it, even McGee said so. Not that McGee's praise meant anything.) He was good at what he did, and he liked the people he worked with. But he just felt incompetent. Compared with what he used to be able to do, he felt like… a probie.

Oh, new, cruel, sick, twisted circles of Hell.

Sighing in defeat, he shut off his computer giving up on his report. He'd do it some time later.

Getting up, he lifted his lead limbs over his head in an exaggerated stretch, even though he had no audience, grabbed his backpack, and turned to the elevator.

And stopped.

How long had she been staring?

"Um… Kate?"

Tony didn't remember getting on the floor. At first he assumed he had another seizure. But the absence of any pain (at least, in his head), and the presence of a sobbing Caitlin on top of him quickly ruled out that option.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Something was definitely wrong. She was acting all… off.

"Kate? What – "

"I promise I won't ignore you! I'll take care of you! I'm sorry! I just freaked out!"

Ah.

"Shh, Kate." He self-consciously hugged her, brushing down her hair. "It's fine. It's okay."

"I treated you horribly!"

Tony paused. If he tried to comfort her by saying she didn't, well, that would be lying. Man, what to say to an emotional co-worker – no, friend – to make her feel better in a situation like this?

"I'll let you perform an exorcism on me, if it makes you feel better."

A/N: Please review, so I know whether to bother attempting the last chapters. It's gonna have either one or two more chapters if there's still interest. Otherwise I might take the story off the site.