A/N: Trooper Cam gave me some important feedback. I am getting some of the military things wrong. My brother was a Marine helicopter pilot for 10 years, and he's helped a little. I know where this story is going, and I am afraid that I will need to engage in some artistic license to get there. I understand if the mistakes are distracting, and I understand that some will not want to read because of my misunderstanding of military procedures. For those of you still able to enjoy the story, I really get inspired through your feedback. Thanks, Sheila

Surviving Winter

Chapter 4

McGee finally raised his head. The dorm was empty save him and a man sitting in a chair beside him. He focused on clearing his vision. "Dunham?"

"Hey McGee. Just working on some reports here."

"How'd you get in? Does Winter know? He wasn't crazy about you hanging with me."

"It's all good. Nobody's mad. Winter likes to control everything, but he can't mess with you on your leave time."

McGee blinked. "I have leave?"

Dunham chuckled. "Not really. Sergeant stopped by and told me to tell you that they're stuffing you in an MRAP going west at 2200."

Tim squinted at his watch. "That's in 6 hours."

Dunham shrugged. "Basically, you have 6 hours of leave."

McGee rubbed his hand over his sleepy face and sat up. "How long was I out?"

"I reckon you fell asleep sometime yesterday."

"Did he say how long I would be gone?"

"Nope. But I'd pack for a week if I were you. You never know."

Tim ran his fingers through his hair. "I gotta' think."

"McGee, go take a shower. Then I'm going to take you out for some real food and we can talk."

"Not sure I should leave base."

Dunham narrowed his eyes. "Not sure you remember that you're a civilian. You're not under anybody's orders, you know."

McGee winced. "Okay, okay, but no spicy food. My stomach is pretty sensitive right now."

….

McGee looked at the hamburger in his hands. "Looks like a burger."

"Well, we reckon that it doesn't actually contain any beef. We've been arguing about that since we got here. Some say it's mostly goat. Some say it's yak. I'm thinking camel."

McGee groaned.

"Come now, eat it. We all have. It ain't killed none of us yet, and you need some groceries in you boy."

McGee took a bit and chewed. "It tastes weird."

"Yeah, what around here doesn't taste weird. Come on now, eat up or I have to call Gibbs."

McGee glared at him. "It would be nice if I had one corner of my life where I wasn't being controlled by someone."

Dunham chuckled. "Okay, brother, I hear ya', but you got to eat something."

McGee took another bite.

"Is it growing on ya?"

McGee ignored him, but did his best to eat up the burger.

Dunham crossed his arms and watched him. "Gibbs wants to invade Afghanistan all on his own, you know, only his objective is Colonel Winter."

Tim looked up. "Ever been the youngest?"

"Yeah, my first assignment was in Somalia. I was quite a bit younger than everyone else. Took a lot of hazing."

McGee nodded. "I've been the youngest for a very long time. It started in middle school. Got teased and bullied plenty. Went to college. I was 2-3 years younger than everyone else. Got to NCIS and I looked like a kid, but I worked my ass off, and the best special agent in the Navy wanted me on his team. I never stopped working. Took hazing like you wouldn't believe. I mean, you know DiNozzo, right?"

Dunham chuckled.

"I survived it. I've grown. It's been seven years, but I'm still the youngest."

"You think Gibbs is being overprotective?"

"I think that if Tony or Ziva were over here doing this, there wouldn't be this amount of fussing. The danger would be understood, and they would have been left alone to finish their mission."

"Yeah, but you have to admit that Winter is kind of a whack job. I mean, that has to dial up the anxiety for Gibbs."

"Winter is intense, manipulative, selfish, and possibly, cruel, but he isn't wrong. I can make a difference, and he's using me to do that. And the truth is my life isn't worth any more or less than anyone else's."

"Winter's a bastard."

McGee colored and looked around to see who was listening. "Yeah, he's that, and he's going to grind me down to the nub, but I think a good leader has to do that for the good of his men."

"Tim, I think you'd defend your own executioner if you could."

McGee sighed. "Come on, Chad. Right now, you're the only person I can talk to. Give me a break."

"I can put you on a screen with Gibbs in the next twenty minutes. It'll make both of you feel better."

McGee shook his head. "No more arguing over a video feed."

"Alright. What do you want me to tell Gibbs?"

McGee leaned over. "Tell the Boss that this is my mountain to climb, and he can't do it for me. I mean, a lot of this is my fault. I'm McGee with the delicate skin, the bad stomach, the asthma, the phobias, and the innocent look on my face. I trust too easily. I always try to do the right thing. I can't lie worth a damn. I feel guilty about everything that's left undone. Guy like that needs protection, right?"

"Nothing wrong with being a good guy."

"Boss worries that a 'good guy' like me will get swallowed up in a place like this."

"McGee, he's going to worry. They all are. There was a whole crowd of them on the comm including a very pretty forensic scientist."

Tim smiled. "That's Abby. She's my, uh…she's amazing."

"Yeah, well, from the look on her face, the feeling's mutual."

McGee looked down at the table. "I have to finish this, Chad. I'm gonna' do this thing for me. And I'm going to show everyone including me that sweet, sensitive McGee isn't a kid anymore. Tell them I'm going to be okay."

"You sure you need three months running around Afghanistan to prove all that?"

"No, but it's the challenge in front of me, and I'm not leaving."

Dunham grinned. "I like you, Tim. You're a good man. I can see why they want to watch after you, and it don't have nothing to do with how you hold up. I think we all know you can go the distance."

…..

Dunham had a phone link to the states. He'd offered it up to McGee, but Tim kept waving it away. Dunham got ready to leave and McGee grabbed his arm. "One phone call."

Chad grinned and handed him the cell. McGee dialed and put it to his ear. He expected voice mail. By his calculations, it had to be 4 a.m. in D.C. He seemed startled when a sleepy voice picked up. "Who is this?"

"It's me, Tony. Sorry to call so early."

"McGee! Good to hear from you. How are you? Where are you?"

Tim smiled at his enthusiasm. "I just have a few minutes. I'm going to be out in the field for a while. Don't imagine there will be time for another MTAC feed."

Tony laughed. "Watching you on the screen the last couple of times tells me you're pretty relieved at no more MTAC feeds."

"I just wanted to talk to someone who…knows I'm gonna' be okay. Someone who is not worried about me every little single minute."

There was some hesitation. "Well, that's me, Probie."

"You understand what I'm doing, right?"

"I think so."

"Boss is too worried, and I think it might be rubbing off on Abby and Ziva and Ducky and…I thought maybe you could be the one who's really confident in me and…I think it might help."

"I got your six, Tim, but you need to know that everyone here has a lot of faith in you. Boss is reacting to that asshole Winter, not you. We know you're kicking butt over there."

"Nothing's going to happen, and I need you to know that."

"You're keeping your head down?"

McGee swallowed. "All the time. You're checking in on Abby for me?"

"Every day."

"You're like a brother to me, Tony." McGee blurted out. Then he winced. He hadn't meant to say that.

"You are my brother, Tim."

McGee flushed. "Gotta' go. Sorry about waking you."

"A lot of people are thinking about you right now. We need you back here safe and sound."

"See you soon, Tony."

"I'm counting on it, Probie."

McGee ended the call and handed it to Dunham. "Thanks."

Dunham grinned. "DiNozzo isn't so bad afterall."

…..

Tony showed up at Gibbs' house. It was 5 a.m. He figured the boss would be up soon, getting ready for work. He opened the door and walked in. Went over and put two coffees down, and then collapsed into the sofa. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Gibbs was standing across from him sipping on one of the coffees. "What do you got?"

"Talked to McGee a little while ago. They're sending him back out into the field."

"He didn't call me."

"He's got a little bit of a chip on his shoulder about how worried you are for him."

Gibbs sat down in the chair across from him. "I know. I know what it looks like, and I can't seem to get a handle on it. I have such a strong feeling about this."

Tony cocked his head. "You think Winter's going to get him killed?"

Gibbs looked down at the floor and shook his head. "Man's a menace. He's going to put McGee in the middle of something bad. McGee's too damn decent and I worry that he won't see it coming. I got this feeling and I can't shake it."

A chill ran down Tony's spine. "You can't be right all the time, Boss."

"I don't want to be right about this." Gibbs growled. "I want it to be all about one stubborn Marine needing an alley fight with an egomaniac. I'm trying to convince myself that's all this is."

Tony swallowed. "My gut isn't right about this either."

"Gotta' hide it, Tony. Can't let Abby see it. Even Ziva. She's been off since he left."

He nodded.

Gibbs worried his lip for a moment. "I've never let Tim go through the door first, have I?"

"Don't think so, Boss."

"Has McGee ever said anything to you about that?"

Tony thought for a moment. "He knows that busts aren't his forte."

"Sending him through the door first just a few times might have built stronger confidence in him. I bet he would've felt like I had more faith in him. He might not feel the need to prove himself in Afghanistan."

Tony shrugged. "Boss, you're really making a leap in logic there. He never complained to me about how you organized us out in the field."

"I bet he noticed though. That's exactly the kind of thing McGee would notice. Then I overcompensated by not following my gut and arranging for him to go." Gibbs' frustration played on his features.

"Boss, don't worry about it. I think it was an opportunity that McGee couldn't resist. End of story. Really."

Gibbs thought for a moment and sighed, "We don't really have a choice here but to let Tim play this out. I can't engage Winter in any sort of meaningful way without hurting McGee."

"All right then. It's McGee's show. We're going to have to put on happy faces until this is all over."

Gibbs frowned. "In the meantime, I wish you would figure out what the hell you are doing on that damn computer. Didn't realize how much the Elf Lord really does for us until I had to rely on you for things."

…

McGee had a deep respect for the men and women who served in the military in war zones. He was on his third week in a row out in the field, and he'd never experienced so much discomfort in his life. Even the food tasted like sand. Most nights, he slept next to the equipment on the ground. Showers had become urban myths. Only the sun ever alerted him to the possible time of day. He never knew if he was going to be working from the small outpost or from an MRAP out in the desert. There were times when he considered emailing Abby or Tony or Ziva about his experience but he couldn't imagine what he would actually say.

The communications techs were young, but he'd grown quite fond of them. These were kids who were generally too young to be contemplating issues of life and death, working 20 hours a day in horrific conditions; their lives always at the mercy of the next set of orders from headquarters.

McGee knew what it was like to be the kid, and so he gave these young people every bit of attention he could. He trained, he mentored, he listened to their stories and their fears, and many nights the floor of the communications tent was littered with the bodies of sleeping techs who were looking for a place of peace. McGee was learning that the real heroes in war were the ones who had the courage to get up on their feet every day in the midst of madness and work. Sometimes, he wondered when they were going to send him back to Kabul, but he didn't fight for it. There was always too much to do, and it was natural for him to just bury himself in the middle of the work around him.

When they ordered him to join an MRAP mission one morning, he didn't think too hard. He just grabbed his stuff and climbed in with everyone else and held on as the armored vehicle disappeared on the rocky terrain.

…

Three hours on the road and an explosion hit the MRAP without warning. McGee was thrown forward, his arms and legs entangled with those of the soldiers around him. Everyone was shouting, but McGee could make out very little. Smoke started to fill the space, and then the large vehicle jerked and fell over on its side. McGee was trapped in the bottom. Soldiers started clawing and kicking their way back to the top. McGee could feel the panic in them. McGee shouted for calm, but it fell on deaf ears. The first two to the top jumped out. The sound of automatic gunfire erupted, and one of them fell back into the MRAP shot through the head. McGee grabbed the dead man's weapon and headed for the opening. He urged the others to stay back. It would do no good to just jump out the hatch. He had been pinned down before, and knew how to handle a situation like that. He threw a loose helmut out the top, and gunfire erupted. He was able to determine that the shooting was coming from the west. The trick would be to evacuate soldiers to the east. A sergeant crawled up beside him, and McGee shared his plan. The soldier nodded. On the count of three, McGee and the sergeant sprayed fire to the west. They dropped back down. It took 7 seconds before the guns to the west felt safe to respond. McGee nodded at the sergeant. "They have 5-7 seconds to scramble over the top to the east. The MRAP should give them enough cover."

The sergeant nodded. The two of them laid down covering fire and then threaded soldiers through one by one. Finally it was the two of them. McGee was prepared to argue with the sergeant, but he caught the look in the man's eye. Going through last was what the man was trained to do, and McGee know to respect that. Once out of the hatch and over the side, he provided cover for the sergeant. The sergeant was preparing to jump over the side as well, but got caught in a hail of bullets. McGee knelt beside him as he fell from the top of the vehicle. There were wounds all over the man's torso. His eyes were open, but his faint pulse quickly faded away. McGee leaned against the side of the MRAP. Around him there were four soldiers crouching. None of them was older than 21 or carried a rank above Corporal. Before McGee could formulate a plan, he heard a gun cock. He twisted his head and found himself staring up the barrel of an automatic rifle. The Afghani man was tall, and wore garments that distinguished him as a member of the Taliban. There was a gasp, and McGee turned his head to see that Taliban soldiers had popped out everywhere, all of their guns pointed at him and the four American kids with him.

…..

Abby put the number 43 up on her collage. Two days ago, she'd added an 8 x10 picture of Tim she printed off her computer. She liked that his head was almost life size. It made it seem as if he could hear her when she talked. And so she talked to the photograph quite a bit. Ducky had shown up this morning, arms folded, to observe her interact with the photo. After a few minutes, she got annoyed and told him that talking to photographs was a helluva lot less creepy than talking to dead bodies. He took the hint and disappeared.

Abby was a sensitive and brilliant woman. She travelled a path that only she understood, and she liked it that way. She loved what she did, and she loved the people around her. In the midst of this sterile government building, she'd found a family and she protected it fiercely. They were all special to her in their own way especially Gibbs, and she worried every time they went out into the field.

McGee was special in a different way. He was part of her family, but the two of them shared a special bond: a deep understanding and appreciation for one another. No one accepted who she was like Tim McGee. To say she loved him was obvious. It was much more accurate to describe what they had as a completion of one another. He matched her brilliance and adored her uniqueness, but he also grounded her. She introduced him to the possibilities beyond the routine behavior he'd always relied on. She was an adventure, and he never tired of it. Tim worked to protect her innocence, and was kind enough to understand her goodness. She knew his feelings for her were powerful, and the independent part of her resisted him, but she really believed that he'd always be there. She believed that Timmy would never leave her.

So every day, she drew a new number and put it up on her collage. She talked to his picture and she imagined him talking back to her. Tim was a part of her. One day, she would allow herself to understand what that really meant. In the meantime, she felt secure in the notion that reliable, sweet Tim McGee would always be within her reach.

…..

TBC