I figured I should probably start telling you guys when each chapter takes place. So, this takes place in season one of SPN and sometime in season three of NCIS. So, probably around Boxed In for NCIS and before Asylum/Scarecrow for SPN. I say before because during Scarecrow Sam makes a comment like: 'How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago.' So, yeah, that episode was set in May... or the writer's messed up, I don't know. So, before Asylum/Scarecrow.

Thanks for the reviews, alerts, and favs last chapter. You guys are amazing.

So, yeah, thanks for reading, I own neither show, and I should go.

BYE!

NCIS

2005…

"How many murders has there been so far?" Ziva asked as she followed Tony through an alleyway. Half the lights had blown out in that neighborhood, leaving both agents in almost complete darkness.

Gibbs had sent him and Ziva downtown to check out one of the earlier crime scenes again while he and McGee checked out another crime scene a few blocks away. It wasn't much of a lead, and they probably weren't going to find any suspects for the string of murders, but it was the closest they had come in a week.

"Five," Tony replied stepping over a puddle of some identifiable substance. He glanced back at his partner, still having mixed feelings towards her. She had been part of their team for a few months, and he had been through more crap with her than his first two years on Gibbs' team combined.

"As gruesome as the bodies looked, you would think this guy would have been caught by now," Ziva commented shining her flashlight across the ground.

"Not really," Tony retorted, "Jack the Ripper was never caught and his last victim…"

"Yes, but Jack the Ripper was alive before all this forensic stuff. You would have thought he would have left something behind."

Tony made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat and both fell silent.

They searched the area a few more minutes, finding nothing useful, and Tony suggested they split up to cover more ground. Ziva agreed and they went their separate ways, agreeing to stay in constant cell phone contact.

DiNozzo let his flashlight sweep across the ground, not finding anything remotely useful, and wondered if Ziva was having any luck. It was doubtful, and with their luck Gibbs and McGee were getting all the action while they most likely were going to run into a homeless person or something.

With a sigh, he was about to give it up as a bad job, when he heard someone shout, "Get off him you son of a bitch!"

Tony looked around, trying to pinpoint where the voice came from, and suddenly heard the distinct sound of fighting coming from directly behind him. He turned and raced towards the commotion.

He thought about calling Ziva, his cell phone actually in his hand, but ended up putting it away when he skidded around the corner of the alleyway and his flashlight shined on two figures wrestling on the ground while a third was struggling to get to his feet.

Tony stashed his flashlight in his jacket pockets and rushed towards the struggling pair. He managed to pull the two off of each other, holding them both at arm's length. For a split second, Tony thought one of the guys he was holding back looked familiar, but a sharp pain stopped him from investigating further.

He looked down, his eyes widening when he saw one of the guys' mouth clamped around his wrist, and he let both men go in surprise. The guy that bit him released his wrist and sprinted away from Tony and the other man. Instinctively, Tony grabbed his gun just as he was shoved to the side.

DiNozzo hit the ground, very nearly hitting his head on the dirty concrete, and heard the two guys start fighting again. He sat up, watching as the third figure soon joined the fight, and Tony knew he had to break it up before someone ended up hurt or worse.

He scrambled to his feet, firing two warning shots, hoping to get Ziva's, or anyone's attention. He then headed towards the fight, once again pulling one of the three men away from each other. He kept a loose grasp on that guy and grabbed a second, struggling to keep a hold of both, watching as the third sprang to his feet.

"You are letting it get away," the shorter of the two men, Tony was holding onto, snapped. "Sam," the guy said and Sam nodded, doing some freaking maneuver and breaking free of Tony's hold.

DiNozzo tried to grab him again while keeping a hold of the other one, but he was already out of his reach, picking up a pipe sitting on the ground. Tony watched in horror as the guy, this Sam, slammed the pipe into the retreating man's head.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tony shouted letting his charge go and stalking towards the other guy.

"Believe me, you wouldn't understand," a voice said from behind Tony. He turned, a part of him recognizing that voice, and struggled to get his flashlight out of his pocket. He flicked it on, letting the beam shine on the guy.

Dark hair, leather jacket, jeans, and biker boots: Tony had met this guy before; two years ago, in a graveyard, on the anniversary of his mother's death, fighting a ghost.

"You," he said softly.

"Agent DiNozzo?" the guy replied furrowing his eyebrows, shielding his eyes from the light's beam.

"Dean?" Sam moved to stand next to his-what to call him-partner. Now, in the light, Tony was able to see a shaggy haired brunette, possibly in his early twenties, standing next to the kid from two years ago; this Dean. For some, strange reason Tony felt the name suited him.

"What the hell are you two doing here? And why did you just kill that guy?" Tony questioned looking between the two guys. He glanced down at his sleeve, noticing fresh blood staining it. Now that he wasn't fighting, he was starting to feel a little dizzy.

"Hey, you okay?" Sam asked reaching out to check his arm.

"I'm fine," DiNozzo insisted pulling his arm out of the younger guy's reach. "Answer my questions."

"You remember a few years ago. Come on, you can't tell me you still don't believe in all this crap. We fought a ghost together," Dean said, smirking slightly, glancing over at the dead body. "That's like a ghost except it's-what's that word-corporeal. Yeah, it's corporeal."

Tony remembered the day he met Dean quite well. More importantly, he remembered waking up the next day, trying to convince himself it was all a dream brought on by alcohol. Until he looked in the mirror and saw how colorful his body was from the fight the night beforehand. It was around that time that he realized it wasn't a dream, he wasn't crazy, and he fought a ghost with some strange kid.

He also remembered walking into work Monday morning, covered in bruises and cuts, his head bandaged, and telling Kate and McGee that he had been mugged. They had asked if he had filed a report, but he had told them it wasn't worth it. They weren't going to find the perp, a report would be a waste of time, and he could easily 'cancel' anything that needed canceling. Then he had to make a show of calling up credit card companies, just to keep up the façade.

He had told Gibbs the same story, but he knew his boss never quite bought it, and Tony often wondered if Gibbs thought he and Senior got into it. However, since Gibbs couldn't prove Tony was lying or the latter had happened, he had to accept Tony's story as fact. Though, Tony noticed that his boss kept an extra eye on him for a while after that day.

"If it's not a 'who' then what the hell did you kill?" Tony demanded but both ignored him.

"I didn't know he helped you with a hunt," Sam stated looking back at Dean.

"It wasn't important," Dean replied softly as he slowly started collecting their supplies, getting away from the light from Tony's flashlight.

"And if it is an 'it' then why does it look like a person?" Tony tried asking again, but still neither guy acknowledged him.

"Not important? You ran into a federal agent a few years ago. How is that not important?"

"Sam," Dean said in a warning tone.

"Did he arrest you?"

DiNozzo watched as the two continued to, another wave of dizziness washing over him. He looked down at his arm again, blood drenching his sleeve and dripping onto the ground, and was about to say something about it when his legs gave out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean exclaimed racing forward to catch Tony before he hit the ground.

"It bit you, didn't it?" Sam asked moving forward also, checking Tony's arm.

"Yes," Dean replied keeping a grip on DiNozzo. Tony tried to get away from him, but his legs wouldn't cooperate, and Dean's arms were the only thing keeping him standing. Everything was getting fuzzy, his arm was still bleeding heavily, and he knew he had to get a hold Ziva as soon as possible.

"Look, we need to get you help or you could die," Sam said calmly, still holding Tony's arm, looking down at the blood.

"My car is around the corner," Dean commented getting a better grip on Tony, and leading Sam out of the alleyway. "We'll drive you to a hospital. Ghouls have sharp teeth and probably tore into something they shouldn't have."

"Wait, Ghouls?" Tony questioned trying to keep his eyes open.

"Dean," Sam said softly, warningly.

"He knows about this crap, Sammy," Dean responded digging in his pocket for his keys. "I told you, he helped me fight a…" Dean was shoved him from behind, cutting his words off. He and Tony slammed into the ground, Dean's head colliding with the filthy concrete while the air was knocked from Tony's lungs.

The thing turned the older of the two onto his back, looking down at him with a twisted grin, his teeth flashing. Tony looked up at the man, thing, struggling to take a breath in, smelling its awful, putrid breath as it leaned into him to take another bite.

The thing's, ghoul's, teeth barely grazed Tony's throat, when a sickening thud made it freeze. It turned, looking up at Sam holding a pipe, and jumped off Tony to go after him. Sam swung the pipe a second time, missing the ghoul, and was pushed back into a wall. He hit the brick, sliding to the ground, clearly stunned.

As the ghoul stalked towards the younger guy, Tony scrambled to his feet. His vision blurred for a second, his legs were unsteady, but that didn't stop him from moving towards the downed pipe. He scooped it up, took a mighty swing at the ghoul, and felt more than saw the metal connect with the thing's head.

It went down, blood pooling around it, and Tony dropped the pipe. His legs gave out on him again and he hit the ground, everything swimming around him. He thought he heard someone call his name, but he was unconscious before he could be sure.

SPN/NCIS

Tony awoke to fingers running through his hair. He slowly opened his eyes, giving his vision a moment to clear, and finally met Ziva's dark circled eyes. She smiled when she caught his eyes and said, "I have been wondering when you were going to wake up."

"What happened? Where am I?" he asked softly, looking around the room.

"You're in a hospital. Do you not remember what happened?" she responded giving him a worried look. He wracked his brain for a moment, flashes of the other night coming back to him. Although he remembered most of it, he dared not say anything about it. She'd think he was crazy, and it was too soon in this partnership for her to see just how screwed up he really was.

So, he cleared his throat and said, "I… I was attacked by a dog. I guess, I hit my head when I went down, must have blacked out.

Ziva's eyebrows furrowed, looking down at his bandaged wrist. He followed her gaze, looking at the white bandages himself. It seemed the ghoul had taken a large chunk out of his wrist.

"How did I get here?" DiNozzo asked hoping to distract her from any further questions.

Ziva looked away from the wound, meeting Tony's eyes. "I found you lying on the ground, your jacket covered in blood, with a handkerchief wrapped around your bite." Hey, at least Dean and Sam attempted some sort of first aid before leaving him by himself. "At first, I thought you were dead…"

"Well, I'm not," Tony replied giving her a small smile. He thought back to the ghouls, wondering how those bodies were going to be explained, and figured it would probably be blamed on the killer they had been investigating. Then he started thinking, what happened if these 'ghouls' were behind these killings?

"Tony, are you sure it was a dog bite?" Ziva asked and he looked her way.

"It was a dog bite, Ziva. Trust me."

She gave him a skeptical look, but he wasn't about to give anything else away. He didn't know why he kept protecting this kid, maybe it he saw something in the kid, something that reminded Tony of himself. Or maybe he had just been working for Gibbs for way too long.

As much as he believed it was the former, a part of him was convinced it was the latter. Maybe I should have joined the FBI, he thought shaking his head.

NCIS