The first thing Tim registered was the pounding in his skull, like an afternoon after playing video games for 24 hours straight and running off of Red Bull. Problem was, Tim was 90 percent sure that didn't happen yesterday. No, he was pretty sure that he had been walking home from the take-out place and then-nothing.
Slowly opening his eyes, Tim realized that he was in big trouble. He was on the ground, tied to a support beam of some underground facility. Giving an experimental tug, Tim knew that there was no hope of him ever getting out on his own. Whoever had done this to him knew what they were doing.
When Tim's eyes landed on the messy pile of gooey something, he almost ralphed. Was that…? It almost looked like flesh. Taking deep breaths, Tim tried to calm down. Hyperventilating wouldn't help him. Thinking, Tim asked himself, "What would Gibbs do?" Tim almost laughed. Gibbs wouldn't be in this situation.
"Help!"
The echoes reverberating off the walls were like cruel jeers. Wherever he was, nobody would be able to hear him. Tim could only sit there and try and come up with a plan for when (because it certainly wasn't an if) his assailant came back. Maybe he'd get lucky and the team would find him before anything happened. It's a good thing that yesterday was Sunday.
Tony walked into the bullpen and was surprised to see that McGee had beaten him. Usually Tony was the first one there, with McGee coming in with only five minutes to spare.
"What's up, McProbster?" Tony asked, putting down his backpack before taking his seat at his desk.
"Nothing, I just had to finish the report for the last case," McGee said, typing away at his computer.
"Putting off work Probie? So unlike you," Tony tsked, taking a sip from his piping hot coffee.
"I wasn't feeling well," McGee said distractedly.
"Uh-huh, sure," 'Sick, my ass,' Tony thought. McGee had been sick as a dog two weeks ago and still stayed the extra hours until his report was done. Tony had felt so sorry for the guy that he had even offered to finish it for him. McGee had pointedly said no.
"Would you just lay off? It's done now," McGee said sharply, green eyes cutting over to Tony. 'If looks could kill,' Tony silently whistled.
"Sorry," Tony offered. What had McGee's panties in a twist? He was being so…un-McGee.
Kate took that moment to walk in, coffee and cruller in hand.
"Running a little late, Kate?"
Tony was met with a frazzled look. At least that was normal.
Crime scene. If what Ducky said was correct (and he almost always was) someone had decided to kill a petty officer around 0200 hours. It had been a home invasion; the once beautiful young officer had been tied to her dining chair and tortured for hours before she bled to death.
It was sickening, what people could do to eachother. This crime was sadistic, and by the lack of signs of forced entry, done by someone she trusted enough to let into her house.
Snapping photo after photo, Tony couldn't wait to catch the guy. He almost wished it was something supernatural that had done it. Then the crime, although still horrible, would make sense. Evil creatures do evil things. But humans are just as capable, if not more, of producing great violence. Tony silently promised Petty Officer Daniels that justice would be done.
"Hey, Tony! What do you make of this?" Kate motioned to a spot on the violet carpet.
On the carpet was what could only be described as a bloody piece of flesh. Taking a quick picture, Tony grimaced as he crouched down and delicately picked it up with a gloved hand.
"Looks like Petty Officer Daniels fought hard; our creep-of-the-week is missing an ear," Tony said, looking up at Kate from his crouched position.
This case was seriously bothering him. An ear isn't easily ripped off. Even if the ripping is being done by a strong, adrenaline-aided woman.
Tony rubbed the heels of his palms into his eyes, before dragging his hands through his hair. Something just wasn't adding up. Granted, it was the first night, but usually they had some suspect. Gibbs and Tony had interviewed a couple of people, but they just didn't seem to be the type. Maybe going through the crime scene photos again would help.
Clicking the folder of the current case on his desktop, Tony started to numbly go through the pictures. Almost skipping a picture of McGee and Kate that Tony had taken in the car ride to the case, Tony paused. McGee had been looking out the window when the picture was taken, but what little of his eyes that could be seen were whited out. A weird camera flare…but if it was a camera flare, shouldn't it have done the same thing to Kate's eyes?
A feeling of dread washed over Tony as he frantically searched for another picture of McGee. Damn! Tony hit his keyboard out of frustration when he realized that there weren't any more.
'Back up a minute, Tony. It could be nothing. Yeah, McGoogle has been acting a little strangely, what with the coming in early, the not gagging at the scene, blowing off Abby when we got back to base…'
Late hours at the office meant that no one else was there. 2200 hours…his brothers should still be awake. Pulling out his cellphone, Tony quickly dialed Sam.
Bring. Bring. Bri-
"Hello?"
"Sam, do you have a minute?"
"Yeah, give me a sec. It's a little loud in here."
"Hustling some poor schmuck out of his money?"
Sam laughed, "Got to pay for gas and crappy diner food somehow. What's up?"
"I think I might have something supernatural on my hands," Tony said quietly, keeping a vigilant eye out for anyone who might walk in. It was doubtful, but it could still happen.
"What are the signs?" Sam asked, interest piqued.
"I've got a gooey ripped off ear and a camera flare."
"Not much to go off of, but Dean and I can be out there in a day or two—
"No, no. That's not necessary—Boss wouldn't be too happy if you guys started interfering in the case. I can handle it. Do you have any ideas about what could be going on?"
"Well, I guess I'd have to say a shape shifter."
"Damn. I was hoping you wouldn't say that."
"They can be a major pain. Are you sure you don't want us to come? These things change costume like every day is Halloween."
"I know who it's pretending to be. If I'm not too late, I can stop it tonight," Tony got up from his desk, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the elevator.
"Oh, really? Who?"
"Yeah. He's pretending to be my partner, Timothy McGee."
Tim awoke to water being poured onto his face. Jerking away, Tim was shocked to see his own face staring down at him wearing an unfamiliar, sinister smile.
"What the—
"'Bout time you woke up. You know, you're a very heavy sleeper. And boring. Very, very boring. Do you know what's fun though? Working on the very crime scene you made."
"What?"
"You're going to be serving a life sentence or maybe even have the death penalty by the time I'm done with you. Your coworkers at first won't believe that you did it—that you must've been framed. But the evidence will keep stacking against you, and when a witness—me—reports seeing you leave Kate's apartment tomorrow night, right after her reported time of death, then there won't be any denying it anymore. They'll have to arrest you on the spot. Later you'll escape, leaving a trail of evidence leading to here. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination. I bet they kill you though, when they catch you with another would-be victim."
Tim swallowed a few times, "Why are you doing this?"
"Isn't it obvious? Because it's fun. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work before I'm late."
Tony should have expected that not-McGee wouldn't have been at Probie's apartment. He had spent the entire night trying to figure out where he would have gone, searching through sewers and vacant warehouses but coming up with nada. He'd simply have to tail the imposter after work.
Another body hadn't turned up, but that didn't mean the imposter hadn't killed again. The only way NCIS hears about a crime is if the victim was a marine or navy member. For the sake of the innocent, Tony hoped that not-McGee hadn't killed again.
The day had gone by quickly, with no leads. Which makes sense if Tony's theory was correct, which he was sure of now. McGee had been acting even weirder today, eyeing Kate in a way that made Tony want to pull out his silver bullet loaded gun then and there.
Tailing the shifter was going easy, and when he parked in front of Kate's building Tony had to suppress the urge to start firing. If he wanted to find out where the bastard was keeping McGee, Tony had to keep the thing alive.
Tony took the stairs two at a time as the shifter took the elevator up. Glancing at the elevator, Tony still had time enough to get into Kate's apartment before the shifter.
Tony quickly knocked on the door and was relieved when Kate answered quickly. Pushing his way in, Tony started to explain at a rapid pace.
"McGee's going to knock on the door any second, but it's not him. He's our killer, but trust me when I say it's not McGee."
"Tony! What are you—
There was a knock on the door. Kate glanced toward it, then back to Tony who mouthed 'Trust me.' Kate nodded slowly, and then answered.
"Can I help you Tim?"
"Yeah, I was wondering if I could talk to you about the case."
"Sure, why don't you come in?" Kate motioned him in.
McGee walked in slowly, Kate following him. Kate looked for Tony, but he was nowhere to be seen. If this was a prank…
"You know, Kate…I've been thinking about this since last night," McGee's eyes became almost reptilian like before he made a move to attack her. A loud cracking sound filled the room as Tony emerged from his hiding spot, gun freshly fired.
Tim was hit in the shoulder, the wound smoking. He screamed inhumanly, and turned toward and jumped out of the window in the living room.
"What the hell was that?" Kate freaked.
"Shape shifter. I'll explain everything later—go to Gibbs' place," Tony responded over his shoulder as he headed out the door and for the stairs.
The blood trail was easy to follow. The shifter was moving fast, not even bothering to shed his disguise. This was bad news for McGee—it meant the shifter was planning on getting to him as soon as possible. Tony would just have to be quicker than it.
Up ahead was a wider chamber in the sewer lines, and Tony thought he heard voices. Tony hurried, and could see a figure standing in the opening, blocking the light.
"Freeze!" he called. Stupid, Tony admonished himself, supernatural fuglies don't stop or halter at the voice of the law.
Tony fired twice in rapid succession. Not-McGee fell to the ground, dead. Tony had been sure to aim for the heart.
"McGee, you alright?"
"Yeah," Tim breathed, disturbed at seeing his image dead on the ground, "Yeah, I'm alright. What the hell was that?"
"Shifter. I'll explain when we get to Gibbs'," Tony responded, taking out his belt-knife and cutting McGee free.
The days following the shifter event were intense. McGee and Kate hadn't taken to the idea of the supernatural well, but couldn't deny the fact that it existed. Gibbs hadn't been happy that Tony had been quiet about his suspicions, or that the Petty Officer's family would never get closure.
In the end, Sam and Dean had swung by, unable to resist coming. Together, the three Winchester's taught the Gibbs team how to be 'Supernaturally Safe' as Dean put it.
It had been one of the more interesting weeks.
Now, Tony found himself at McGee's sharing a pizza and case of beer.
"So, how long have you known about all of this?" McGee asked.
"All of my life. I was raised in it."
"Does it get better?" Tim asked, staring at his hands.
"Does what get better, Probie?" Tony asked, taking a swig of beer.
Looking up, Tim clarified, "Does…do the nightmares get better?"
Clapping a hand on to Tim's shoulder Tony said, "Yeah, yeah, they do."
"Thanks," Tim smiled weakly.
"Don't sweat it Tim. Now let's kick back, drink some beer, and enjoy the game."
"Sounds great," Tim smiled, grabbing a slice of pizza. He saw Tony staring to move his legs, "But don't even think of putting your feet on the coffee table."
Standard Disclaimers
Notes: Time and inspiration are two commodities that are hard to come by. The stars aligned today however: I had plenty of time due to a snow day and was lucky enough that my muse was talking to me. :)
This was actually my first attempt at a case-fic. I hope I did it justice.
As always, thanks for every review, alert, or favorite. It means the world to me. Feel free to drop a note anytime.
Peace. Out.