Chapter 3

Tim trudged into his apartment that night around 3 a.m. He and Sam had spent a couple of hours returning the clearing to normal, and agreed to get some sleep and begin research the next day. Too tired to change, Tim fell into bed and passed out.

"Get away from me!"

The officer ran through the corridors of the ship, trying to escape what was chasing him.

The sound of vicious barking reverberated throughout the metal corridor as the officer ran for his life. He hooked a right and started running for the stairs that led to the upper deck.

The barking got louder and closer, and he could hear the giant getting closer to him. Suddenly, he felt white hot pain in his back, and he was pushed down to the ground.

The officer screamed as he was torn apart.

"No!" Tim shouted, shooting up straight in bed. He was sweating bullets, and his heart was beating wildly. Rather than try to get up, Tim lay back down for a moment, to wait for his heart rate to slow down.

After a few moments, Tim pushed himself up and padded into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror.

Why is this happening to me? What the hell is going on?

He considered going back to bed, but he knew he'd be unable to sleep. He went out into the living room and flipped through the channels on TV until he came across a Night Court marathon.

Tim awoke to a combination of the Golden Girls theme song on his TV and his ringing cell phone near his head. He sat up and turned off the TV, and answered the phone.

"McGee... you're late."

Tim looked at his watch. It was 0730.

"I'm leaving now, Boss."

"Get your ass here."

Gibbs hung up, and Tim darted into his bedroom to change. He was ready and out the door in ten minutes.

He drove fast to the office, and arrived two minutes shy of the 30 minutes Gibbs had allowed him.

Gibbs looked up at him as he hurriedly crossed the bullpen.

"Not bad, McGee. Don't be late again."

"Sorry about that, Boss."

Before Tim could sit down, Gibbs' phone rang. He talked for 30 seconds and hung up.

"Dead body on the U.S.S. Liberty. Grab your gear."

Tim gulped as he followed Tony and Ellie to the elevator. He was really hoping it wasn't going to be what he was thinking.

"I found him at the bottom of the stairs leading to the upper deck," Commander Coleman explained to Gibbs as he lead them toward the body of Lieutenant John O'Neal. "It's terrible, Agent Gibbs... John was on the fast track to the top... he was one of the best under my command." They moved down the steps, and they all froze in place.

Tim observed his nightmare in real time... this Lieutenant was the man he'd seen being murdered in his dream.

How in the hell could this be...

Tim suddenly started to feel nauseous, and rushed back upstairs to the deck and down toward the way, so he could be sick in private. He leaned over the railing and let himself be sick. When he was finally through, he leaned there for a moment, looking down at his reflection in the water.

There's no way this is a coincidence... no one dreams about murders before they happen... except for me.

He scrubbed a hand across his face and blinked, and when he looked down again, another face had joined his in the reflection. Tim jumped and whirled around, to find a man standing behind him. He looked to be in his late fifties, wearing jeans and a black leather coat.

Tim whipped out his gun and pointed it at the intruder.

"You have ten seconds to identify yourself before I arrest you for trespassing," he said immediately.

"Timothy, you do not remember who I am?"

"I have no idea who you are," Tim said, his gun still trained on the man.

"Please lower your weapon. I have only come to talk."

Tim looked into the man's eyes. They looked honest... too honest.

"Tell me who you are."

"My name is James. I am your father."

Tim fought to keep his hands from shaking.

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"You carry the sign of the Nephilim. It has been branded to you since birth."

"I know about that. You're really close to being shot right now," Tim reaffirmed, his trigger finger starting to itch.

"I have the matching symbol."

James pulled down the neck of his shirt, to reveal a symbol tattooed onto his skin, that matched the one on Tim's lower back to the detail.

Tim holstered his gun.

"You shouldn't be here," Tim said in a low voice. "What if someone sees us talking? How am I going to explain why you are on a guarded Navy vessel?"

"Your premonitions have started, yes?"

"Premonitions? You mean - the dreams - and the murders -"

"It is one of the many gifts bestowed upon you at your birth."

"Gifts? I've had to watch two people torn to shreds! How is that a gift?"

"You must embrace this gift, or it will destroy you, my son."

"McGee!"

Tim looked beyond James and saw a shadow approaching from around the corner.

"My Boss is coming. You have to leave."

"If you need help, pray for me and I will come."

Tim nodded, and James vanished. Seconds later, Gibbs rounded the corner.

"What have you been doing up here, McGee?"

"I'm sorry, Boss... I forgot my Dramamine."

"Are you all right now?"

He nodded.

"I'm feeling a lot better."

"Good. Get down there and help Bishop with bag and tag."

"Yes, Boss."

Tim scurried away, leaving Gibbs alone with his thoughts. He knew he'd heard voices as he approached, but had only found his Agent when he rounded the corner.

Something hinky is going on here...

Shrugging, Gibbs made his way back downstairs to hurry his team along.

They got back from Norfolk later in the afternoon, and while Ellie delivered the evidence to Abby, Tony and Tim were subjected to Gibbs in the squad room. The Lead Agent doled out research tasks and went off on his usual coffee break.

Tim started a computer search he already knew was futile, and sat back as the computer ran through the Lieutenant's phone records. He knew he had to stop these murders, but how? He knew very well that once a deal is made with a crossroads demon, it cannot be broken. On the other hand, he couldn't let innocent people just die, either.

His phone vibrated, and he looked down at the text message. It was from Sam.

Found something. Call me ASAP.

Tim immediately got up and pocketed his phone.

"Where are you running to, Probie?" Tony asked, annoyed.

"The head... need me to draw you a picture or something?"

"No, I'm good, thanks."

Tim went off to the Men's room and quickly called Sam.

"What did you find?"

"The Demon."

"What?"

"I summoned it. We're having a chat about cashing in early on deals."

Tim heard a splash, and then a sizzling sound before screams erupted on the other end of the phone.

"Do you need help?" Tim asked.

"I can handle it."

"I need to talk to you about something else... call me after you send that thing back wherever it came from."

"Will do."

Tim hung up. As he turned to leave the Men's room, a splitting headache ripped through his skull, bringing him to his knees. As he grabbed the sides of his head, and tried not to scream out in pain, another vision came to him.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Gibbs said with a smile, handing a tip to the young Barista that always made his coffee for him. She smiled sweetly and took it. As he turned around to start walking back to the building, a man walked up and pulled a gun out of his coat, and pointed it right at Gibbs. Before he could react, a shot rang out, and Gibbs dropped to the pavement, unmoving.

"Tim! Tim can you hear me?"

Tim opened his eyes and found Tony looking down at him, concerned. He sat up and realized that he was on the floor in the Men's room.

"What the hell happened?" Tony asked. "Balboa heard you screaming and came to get me."

Tim suddenly grabbed Tony by the shirt.

"Gibbs is in trouble. Call him right now."

"Gibbs went to get coffee. He's fine."

"Call him now, damn it! Tell him there's a shooter in the Yard!"

Tony saw the seriousness in his partner's eyes, and took out his cell phone. He dialed his Boss immediately.

"What's the matter, DiNozzo?"

"McGee says there's a shooter in the Yard... he says you're going to get shot. Watch yourself."

"How the hell-"

"Humor me, Boss... he practically forced me to call you."

Tony hung up the phone and held a hand out to Tim.

"Ready to get off the floor?"

Tim nodded, and took Tony's offered hand.

"Thanks."

They left the restroom and headed back to the squad room. As they rounded the corner, the bullpen was alive with activity. Agents were running around, and Vance was in the middle of the bullpen.

"Director, what's going on?"

"Gibbs just apprehended a shooter outside in the courtyard," he said grimly. "We're locking down until we can figure out how the hell he got onto the Yard."

Tony nodded his understanding, and Vance turned to go and talk to Balboa. Tony turned and gave his partner a terrified look.

"How in the hell did you know that this was going to happen?"

"Can I explain later?"

"You can explain now."

Tim grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into the hallway.

"Before I tell you this, you have to promise me that you will keep this a secret."

Tony wanted to make a remark, but the seriousness in his friend's eyes stopped him.

"I promise."

"Earlier in the Men's room... I had a premonition - I saw Gibbs getting shot by the Coffee Kiosk in the courtyard."

Tony stared open-mouthed at his friend. He wanted to believe Tim was lying, but it explained why Balboa heard Tim scream, and why Tony found him on the bathroom floor.

"How-"

"That's a long story that I don't want to tell more than once. Let's go find Gibbs and make sure everything's OK."

Tony glared at him - something Tim hadn't been the recipient of in a very long time - and stalked off. Tim sighed and followed him around the corner to the squad room. The elevator doors opened at that moment, and Gibbs stepped out.

"Are you all right, Boss?" Tim immediately asked.

"Conference Room A... now."

Tim nodded and turned toward the corridor. Gibbs and Tony followed. When they were all in the conference room, Gibbs closed and locked the door. He immediately turned on Tim.

"I want to know how the hell you knew I was going to get shot, and I want to know right now."

"I... I sort of saw it."

"You weren't there, McGee. Stop lying to me."

"I saw it before it happened, Boss."

"Excuse me?"

Tony stepped up.

"He isn't lying, Boss. Balboa heard him screaming bloody murder in the men's room, and I found him on the floor when I went to check it out."

Gibbs turned back to his youngest Agent.

"You had a premonition?"

Tim nodded.

"I can't believe this," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I didn't ask for this to happen," Tim said.

"Have you had these premonitions before?" Gibbs asked suddenly.

Tim looked from Tony to Gibbs... and nodded.

"When?"

"The first one came two nights ago, and the second last night. I saw the murders."

"The murders we're investigating?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah. Believe me, you don't want to know what I saw."

"Did you see the murderer?" Gibbs asked.

"No... but I know what did it, and it's been dealt with."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean, McGee?" Tony said angrily. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything... just trust me when I say this case is closed."

Gibbs pointed to a chair.

"Sit your ass down and don't move until I come back."

Tim nodded and took a seat.

"DiNozzo, with me."

Tony followed Gibbs into the hallway.

"Take care of the paperwork to close the murder investigation. Make sure the report you give Vance is believable."

"On it." Tony glanced at the door to the conference room. "He really isn't lying, Gibbs. He had a premonition. I'm not sure how, but he did."

"I believe him. Just go take care of the case, and do not tell Vance about this."

"You can count on me."

Tony hurried down the hall to the squad room. Gibbs took a deep breath, and opened the conference room door. Tim was sitting dejectedly where Gibbs had left him. He looked up when Gibbs came back into the conference room and closed the door. Gibbs pulled out a chair next to Tim and sat down.

"Let's talk."

"If you're going to fire me, just tell me now so I can clean out my desk."

Thwack!

"If you were fired, your ass would have been out the door already."

Tim nodded, eyes still fixed on his hands.

"I want to talk about your premonitions."

He looked up at Gibbs.

"It's a really long, really personal story... I'm not sure you'd believe me."

"Try me."

Tim picked up his cell phone and googled a picture of the symbol on his lower back. He set it down on the table in front of Gibbs.

"This is the symbol of a Nephilim, or a child conceived by a fallen angel and a human."

Gibbs looked at the symbol, and then back at Tim.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

Tim stood up and turned around. He lifted his shirt to expose his mark to Gibbs. He waited a moment, put his shirt back down, and turned back to his Boss. Gibbs was sitting dumbstruck.

"This has to be some kind of - are you and DiNozzo playing some kind of sick joke on me?"

"This is real... I'm a Nephilim. I'm part Angel."

Gibbs stood up and started pacing, as Tim had seen him do when he was nervous.

"I'm still me, Gibbs," Tim reassured him.

Gibbs stopped pacing and turned to him.

"Are there other things you can do?"

"You might want to sit down. It's a long story."

Gibbs took his seat next to Tim and listened to his story.

- October 2009 -

Tim stepped out of his apartment building in his running clothes. He always took an early morning run before heading to the office. He headed down to the park near his house and took to the wooded trail. He loved the freedom of running. He didn't have to think about anything when he ran... he could clear his mind.

He took a break near a clearing to catch his breath. As he put his hands on his knees to let his breathing even out, he felt someone come up behind him. Assuming it was another runner, he turned to wave. Instead he met a man wearing a black suit, with an evil grin on his face. Before he could ask the man who he was, he found himself flying backward and slammed into a tree. His body was being suspended two feet from the ground, except there was nothing holding him there.

"Where have you been hiding?" The man said, that evil smile still plastered on his face.

"Who are you?" Tim asked, trying to escape the force that bound him.

"Don't speak unless you're spoken to, Nephilim!"

Tim looked at the man - or whatever the hell he was - blankly. What in the hell had he called him?

"You have no idea what you are, do you?"

Tim shook his head.

"You have angel blood in your veins... and I want it."

"I have what in me?"

The man chuckled.

"You're half-human, half-angel, kiddo." The man came closer to him. "I've always hated Nephilim... they're so... diluted. I want your angel mojo... and when I get it, I'm going to kill you."

Tim struggled viciously, but it was in vain. Whatever power this thing had over him was unbreakable.

"Let him go, Crowley!"

Tim whipped his head around to find a man coming down the trail, holding a sawed-off shotgun. He had it pointed at the man in black.

"Sam Winchester... so nice of you to join our little party."

"Let him go."

"And why would I want to do that?"

"I'll make a deal with you!" Tim shouted.

"You don't want to do that," the man with the gun warned.

"I'll give you my Angel mojo or whatever, but you have to let me live."

"Killing you is the fun part. I can't deny myself a little pleasure killing."

"Just take it and go... I won't come looking for it or you. Just, don't kill me. P-Please."

Sam stood with his gun pointed at Crowley, ready to shoot. Crowley moved closer to Tim, and smiled.

"I suppose I'm in a charitable mood today. All right, kid. I'll let you live. If you try to find your Grace, the deal is off, and you're dead."

"I understand."

Crowley stepped forward and planted a kiss on Tim.

"What the hell was that?" Tim asked in disgust.

"That's how we seal the deal."

Crowley held out his hand at level with Tim's chest. A blue light started to radiate from Tim.

"Shut your eyes!" Sam shouted, diving to the ground for cover.

Tim screwed his eyes shut as the blue light got brighter, and a paralyzing sound filled his ears, as if his ears were ringing at a ridiculous volume. The sensation that a part of him was being detached from his body followed the vicious sound.

The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. Tim fell limp to the ground, and Crowley tucked a vial into the pocket of his coat.

"Don't forget our deal, Timmy. I'm watching you."

With that, Crowley disappeared.

"So you're telling me that a demon took your angel half, or whatever you call it, and he's going to kill you if you go looking for it?"

Tim nodded.

"This is ridiculous."

"It doesn't make it any less true, Boss."

They sat in silence for a long time, neither of them knowing what to say next. Tim wasn't sure what Gibbs was going to say next.

"Okay... I believe you... but I still don't understand all of this."

"I didn't either... it took me a long time to accept what had happened to me, and what I'd learned about who I am."

Suddenly, Tim felt a tightening in his chest, as if the breath were being sucked out of his body.

"McGee!" Gibbs jumped up and went to Tim's side. He quickly realized there was nothing he could do to stop what was currently happening. After what Tim had just revealed, he wasn't sure whether to call 911 or pray for an Angel. As suddenly as the episode started, it stopped, and Tim collapsed onto the floor, sucking in much needed air. Gibbs dropped to his knees.

"What happened? Are you all right?" he asked. Tim nodded, still gasping for breath. "Just breathe, Tim. In and out... good."

"Boss..." Tim gasped. "Get out of here..."

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"Please... he's...coming... you have to leave now."

"Who's coming, Tim?"

TBC...