Title: By the Pricking of My Thumbs, Part 2
Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda

Other stuff: See previous chapter. Yep, still Sergeant Conley's fault


The question that sometimes drives me hazy:

Am I or the others crazy?

-Albert Einstein

Saturday

"I'm afraid…that Timothy is dying."

The silence that followed Ducky's statement was, to Jimmy, almost as bad as the words themselves. He expected exclamations of denial, or weak attempts at levity, but this…this was horrible.

Finally the silence was spoken by Gibbs, speaking so low that Jimmy almost didn't catch it.

"What the hell happened, Duck?"

"It pains me to say that we don't yet know, Jethro. Preliminary tests have turned up nothing. I asked them collected duplicate samples for analysis in our own lab, hoping that, if it is a drug or some other poison, that we may be able to pin it down. Right now all we can do is wait and hope that we can determine the cause of Timothy's current condition."

Jimmy could se that the M.E. was devastated by his inability to do so thus far. He could also see the guilt behind that devastation, and he wished he could tell the older man it wasn't his fault, but Jimmy doubted he would be believed. Dr. Mallard could be stubborn that way.

"But…but we'll find something, right? I know we will, just wait until I get started, me and my babies will figure this out, and...Come on! We're not giving up this easy, right?"

"'Course not, Abby. Probie is not going to die, not on my watch, and I think Gibbs might have something to say about that, too." Tony was trying to act as if he totally confident in what he was saying, but the opposite was painfully obvious.

"May we see him?" asked Ziva. She was, as always, much harder to read than the others, but Jimmy could see that she was quite shaken by the news.

"They are doing a few more diagnostic tests on him right now, but as soon as those are done and he is sufficiently recovered from the procedures, his attending physician informed me that we will be able to visit him. He believes that it would be beneficial for Timothy's mental state to have friends nearby.

"Does he know?" asked Jimmy before he could stop himself.

"We have not said anything, directly, no, and he has not been fully conscious for much of the time he has been here, so it is possible he does not know. We would prefer to keep it that way for now."

"Uh, yes, Doctor Mallard, understood."

The sound of approaching footsteps distracted the group from Jimmy's faux pas and they turned to see a doctor walking towards them with a small cooler and clipboard in his hands. He stopped in front of Abby. "Ms. Sciuto?" She gave a shaky nod. "Dr. Abernathy. I believe these are for you. Please sign here." She took the clipboard and hastily scrawled her signature on the form before accepting the Styrofoam container. He then turned to the rest of the group.

"I'm guessing that Dr. Mallard has told you what we know so far. Rest assured, we are doing everything we can to slow Agent McGee's deterioration and determine the cause. We're currently checking for all known viruses, although the symptoms are certainly atypical, as well as bacteria infections, heavy metal poisoning, and other toxins. We've sent samples to the pathologist to check for malignancies and other abnormalities, but so far we've only obtained negative results. We don't know what this is, yet, but I'm confident we will."

"How much time does he have to you to figure this out?" asked Gibbs.

"We have him stabilized and the care he is receiving has slowed the process-."

"A number, Doc. A month? A week?"

"There are a lot of unknowns here, and I really don't want to speculate…" he caught Gibbs' glare and sighed. "Possibly as long as a week, but realistically, maybe two to three days. We really just don't know." He surveyed the group of anguished faces in front of him. "In the meantime, we've arranged for someone to be allowed to be with him at all times. You may work that out amongst yourselves, but it should be no more that two people at a time. It can be overwhelming for a patient in his condition to be exposed to more than that. Again, I am sorry that I can't tell you more."

"But as soon as you do know something-."

"You will be the first to know, guaranteed. Dr. Mallard, thank you for your help. Ms. Sciuto, I'll look forward to hearing from you."

"You will. I'm going to figure this out. For Timmy."

Abernathy smiled faintly and headed back down the hall. They all returned their attention to Ducky and he nodded.

"I'll take you to Timothy."

XXX

They decided Abby and Ziva would go first so Abby could get back to the lab. As the rest waited in the hallway, Jimmy continued his study of the group as his own guilt gnawed at him.

I should have told them…what I saw. He could almost hear his father's response to that line of thought.

They wouldn't have believed you. Then where would you be?

The worst part about it was that Jimmy didn't know if he believed himself. What he had seen that day at the house, and then the next day in the bullpen, had seemed like a glitch; a faint stirring of imagination and nothing more. But then, at McGee's apartment, it had been much clearer, if only for a moment. Unfortunately he still didn't have any idea what it was. It was unlike anything he had seen before, and that was saying something…

Finally, Abby and Ziva emerged from McGee's room. It was obvious that both women were upset, but Abby seemed to have focused her grief into finding out what was wrong. She announced that she was going back to the lab, that she didn't have a minute to lose. Ziva merely leaned against the wall and bowed her head, waiting for orders.

Gibbs and Ducky went in next, and when they came out, Jimmy felt even worse. Gibbs wore an expression he had only see a very few times on the man's face. It was the same look he had seen after Agent Todd had been killed, and then, after Tony's car had been blown up and they all thought the man was dead. It was a look that said Gibbs was at a loss. His internal compass which normally drove him to his task was gone, or at least temporarily out of order, and he was floundering. It was not a pleasant sight in the least.

Ducky looked like someone had kicked him and stolen something that he believed he could never get back. It scared Jimmy to see the two strongest people he knew in such a state. He couldn't even imagine what Tony was feeling.

Jimmy hesitantly followed Tony as he walked into McGee's hospital room and once inside he stared at the pale form lying on the bed in front of them and felt his heart sink. McGee looked even worse than before: the skin was now almost gray and the dark circles under his eyes had deepened, and Jimmy could see a faint purplish tinge at the tips of McGee's fingers. The medical equipment surrounding McGee didn't help matters any, as the monitors recorded the too-slow beat of his heart and other vitals which Jimmy could see were not at the levels they should be. The only positive thing about what he was seeing was that whatever Jimmy had thought he had seen before was no longer visible. He didn't know if he should be more or less worried.

Finally Tony spoke, and his voice echoed the worry the whole team was feeling, even though it was obvious that Tony was trying to hide it.

"Hey, Probie," he said, and took a step closer to the prone figure. McGee's eyes opened slightly and he stared, groggily, at the older man before responding.

"Hey…" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Just so you know, you still owe me a game."

His mouth twisted into faint smile. "Don't…think I'll be…able to make…it."

"Of course you will. You'll be fine."

"Doc seems…to think differently."

"Hey, what does he know? Gibbs says you'll be fine. He's the only one you should listen to, right?"

McGee remained silent.

"Give Abby and the rest of the lab rats time to figure out what you were exposed to and we'll get you back on your feet in no time. Docs will fix you right up."

"Tony…please. Just…stop." McGee's voice was growing weaker.

"Not going to happen, Tim. You should know that by now."

"Not even…to let me…die in peace?"

"Not going to let you die, period. Are we clear?"

"We…clear."

"Good. Get some sleep, OK? I'll be back later. We'll…" Tony's voice trailed off as both men noticed that Tim was asleep.

"See ya," Tony whispered as his voice finally cracked and he walked out the door. Jimmy turned to follow and a flash of movement caught his eye. He stopped and slowly turned his head.

What he had seen before was back: a dark shape swirled around McGee's shoulders, working its way down his chest and around his back out of sight before reappearing around his head. It pulsed in time with the beeping of the heart monitor and for a brief moment Jimmy thought he could hear a faint whisper of words he couldn't discern. The shape hovered around McGee's face before eventually retreating and vanishing from sight.

Jimmy let out a breath he hadn't realized he been holding and backed towards the door. He hadn't imagined it, but that still left one major problem: he had no idea what it was or what to do about it.

He intended to find out.

When he exited the room, Gibbs was still there, waiting for him.

"Palmer."

"Agent Gibbs?" He was sure the lead agent could hear his heart hammering in his chest.

"Tony left, but I don't think he's going to get far. I'm staying. Make sure he gets home and doesn't do anything stupid, OK?"

"Of…of course."

Gibbs turned and walked back into McGee's room. Jimmy wanted to give him a warning, but once again his father's voice stopped him.

He won't believe you. You know what you have to do, Jimmy. You're on your own.

When Jimmy got to his car Tony was waiting for him. He unlocked the doors and climbed in, waiting for Tony to do the same. The older man was uncharacteristically silent as Jimmy started the car and started back towards McGee's place. He waited for Tony to say something, anything, but he never said a word. Finally Jimmy spoke.

"Tony? Are you OK?"

Tony snorted and replied in a biting tone. "Oh, sure, just fine. My partner is dying, and no one has a clue why. I'm just…peachy." He slammed his fist against his knee and Jimmy jumped in surprise. "Damn it! He's younger than I am. This isn't supposed to happen. He's supposed to be the one who gets a normal, long life, and…" He turned away from Jimmy but he could still hear the anguish in the man's voice. "It's not…it's not right."

"No, it's not. Tony?"

"What?"

"I…" He wanted so desperately to tell what he had seen, but the caution that had been driven into him since he was a child won out. "I really hope they figure this out soon."

Tony turned to him and gave him a small, apologetic smile. "Yeah, me, too, Jimmy. Me too."

XXX

After dropping Tony off at his car and obtaining assurances that he would go straight home and call before going anywhere, Jimmy drove back to his own apartment. Once inside, he went straight to his bedroom closet and pulled out a small footlocker. He dragged it to the middle of the room and opened it, staring at the contents before reaching inside and pulling out several books. He had never shared the fact that he possessed these books with anyone outside his family, nor the reason for having them. He couldn't even imagine the response of his teammates if they learned his secret.

Normals don't understand, James, his father had said. And what they don't understand, they mock, or fear, or even eliminate. You don't want to be in that situation, son, trust me.

Normals. His family, and others like them, used the name for people who couldn't see what they could, specifically entities, spirits, and other things considered "supernatural". Jimmy knew, as his family had known for generations, such things were very real. Asa child, he had listened to the tales of "ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties" and "things that go bump in the night". He had quickly learned that the things he saw, most people could not, and the tradition of secrecy carried on. As a teenager, he had read the first person accounts, legends and folklore his family had collected in order to learn more about the things he could and had seen. He learned that, for the most part, spirits were harmless, and those that were not were so rare as not to be a concern, or else easily dealt with. These spirits were also easy to see and to distinguish from the living.

The thing he had seen in McGee's room was something different. He was sure it was the cause of McGee's illness, but unfortunately he didn't know what exactly it was or what specifically it was doing. He hoped to find something he might have missed in these books, the most regarded volumes from his family's collection. He needed to find information to the nature of the entity that was currently attacking his colleague, and then he had to figure out how to destroy it and help McGee.

Several hours later, he had found very little. He knew he needed to go to a source with a much larger range of information, but he decided that, if nothing else, he could at least narrow the possibilities by getting a better look at the entity itself.

He reached into the locker again and withdrew a wooden box. He opened it and stared down at the object within. It was a flat iron disk, the size of a camera lens cap, with a penny-sized clear pane of polished diamond in the center. Both sides of the disk were inscribed with symbols from a language that hadn't been spoken in five hundred years. It had been made by one of Jimmy's ancestors in order to see things even his "enhanced" sight could not discern completely. Jimmy had never used it, but his father had explained how it worked.

He drove back to the hospital and when he got to McGee's room he saw Ziva sitting next to the bed with a book in her hands, reading aloud. She paused when she saw him enter and gave him a weak smile.

"Hello Jimmy. Tony should be here soon for his turn. I hope you can…keep him in line."

"I, uh, I'll try."

She looked back down at McGee, whose eyes were barely open. "Look who is here, Tim." He didn't respond and she stared at him sadly for a few moments before turning to Jimmy. "He…he is not doing very well. I really hope…Abby has not had any luck yet but…"

Jimmy stared at the woman and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He wanted so much to tell her that he was working on it, too, and maybe he'd have better luck, but he couldn't. He knew what would happen, especially if he failed.

"Why don't you take a break, Ziva? I'll keep him company."

She considered his suggestion and eventually nodded.

"Thank you, Jimmy. I will be right back." She rose from her chair, placed the book on the stand next to the bed, and left the room.

"Hey…McGee. I hope you can hear me. I'm going to figure this out, OK? I promise."

McGee's gaze slowly tracked towards the younger man and those expressive eyes fixed on him. Jimmy didn't have to hear the man speak to know what he wanted.

Save me…

Jimmy removed the disk from his pocket, removed his glasses and held it up to his eye. Through the hole, he finally got a clear view of the entity, and he almost dropped the disk in horror at what he was seeing. He fumbled and managed to catch it before it hit the floor, and he took another look.

This…creature was unlike anything he had ever imagined.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was roughly spun around to face his attacker. It was Ziva.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

"I-."

She grabbed the disk from him. "What is this?"

"Ziva, please, I can explain…well, actually-."

"Why were you…?" She looked at it and then, before he could stop her, she looked through it at McGee. Here reaction was immediate and he barely managed to catch the disk as she flung it towards the floor.

"What the hell was that?"

"Ziva, I-."

She grabbed his shirt and pulled him close enough that they were practically nose to nose.

"Explain. Now."

"I…OK, but not here. Please."

She glared at him for a moment before letting go and stepping back. "Fine. Let's go." She started to walk out of the room just as Tony appeared in the doorway. He stared at the both of them for a few seconds.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing. I need to speak to Palmer for a few minutes, alone. We will be right back."

Tony's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he glanced at McGee. "Is he…?"

"He…" Her expression softened slightly. "He has not improved. I am sorry. Please, excuse me for a few minutes."

Tony glanced back and forth between the two and finally gave Jimmy a look that said "I'm getting the full story, later" and returned his attention to the silent figure on the bed.

Ziva grabbed Jimmy and practically dragged him down the hall to a closet, opened the door and, finding small room unoccupied, shoved him inside and closed the door. He flicked on the light and found himself once again nose to nose with the irate Israeli woman.

"Tell me. Now." She reached into his pocket and pulled out the disk. "What is this?"

"It…it allows someone to see things they normally can't. You saw it, that thing on McGee, didn't you?"

"I…I do not know what I saw."

"Makes two of us." He saw a flash of fury in her eyes and tried to explain.

"You remember the case in that weird old house a couple of days ago? And McGee went down into the basement to search?"

"Yes, but what-?"

"When he came back up, there was something with him. I barely got a look at it before it disappeared, and I wasn't even sure I had seen it. I saw it again, just briefly, before he left work yesterday, and then this morning, when we went to McGee's apartment. I saw it again. It was just a shadow, but I was pretty sure. And then later, when we went to see him, it looked like it was gone, but just before I left I saw it and that time I knew something was definitely there."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Who would have believed me? I wasn't even sure what I was seeing! I went home to read up on it, but I didn't find anything, so I decided to come back and get a better look. With this." He held up the disk. "It allows me to see things better, and a Nor…a regular person can see things that are really there but they wouldn't normally see at all."

"What sort of…things?" He turned away but she forced him to look at her again. "Tell me."

"Spirits and, uh, other supernatural entities." She raised an eyebrow and he sighed. "Yes, I see dead people, among other things. I always have, and no, I'm not nuts, contrary to common belief."

She stepped back and stared at him while he waited for the explosion. It never came.

"I believe you."

"You do? But-."

"Part of my training. Not everything can always be easily perceived. But I do not understand why you did not at least try to tell someone."

"I told you, no one would have believed me. Nor…regular people…well, most regular people don't accept stuff like this straight off the bat. They would have said I was crazy, or worse, and locked me up. Then I would have had no chance to help McGee."

"Do you think you can help him now?"

"I…yes. I have an idea, but I need to get started, and-."

"I will help."

"Ziva-."

"No! I saw that…thing, what it was doing to McGee. I want to kill it, whatever it takes."

"OK, but first we have to identify it, and I do know how to do that, at least. After that…you said you'll do whatever it takes? Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"OK. Let's go." He opened the door and they stepped out into the hall, ignoring the strange looks they were getting. He headed for the exit and she grabbed his arm.

"Wait. I…I want to check on McGee. Then we can go."

"What about Tony?"

"I will handle him. Come on."

They walked back to McGee's room and Tony turned as they entered.

"Everything OK?"

"As good as can be expected. How is he?"

"I don't think he's really awake, but I'll keep talking to him. It's—"

"What you do best. Or you could read to him." She pointed to the book.

"I'll pass. 'Still Life with Crows'? Sounds like a winner."

"It is actually very good." She managed a weak smile and took one last look at McGee. "I will see you later, Tim. Goodbye, Tony."

Before he could respond, she dragged Palmer through the door and they both hurried towards the exit

XXX

McGee was only vaguely aware of the activity around him. He had recognized the voices and even a few of the faces in the rare moments when he had built up enough strength to open his eyes. He could tell that they were worried, and in his mind he pleaded with them to help him, to break the grip of whatever was dragging him down into eventual oblivion.

He tried to stay awake, to focus on the people he knew were there, but he was just so tired.

Eventually, after fighting as hard as he could, he lost his grip on the last threads of consciousness. The last thing he heard was a soft, whispering voice which spoke only one word.

Mine…

XXX


A/N: Still Life With Crows is a real book, by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. It really is good, but a strong stomach is required. Trust me.

One more chapter to go.