Probable Cause
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I own nothing except my demented sense of imagination.
Chapter 1
*24 hours earlier*
"I swear, McGee, if you ever do something like this again, I'll kill you!"
The bullpen area fell silent as all those present turned to stare in shock at their co-worker. Tony DiNozzo was on his feet, glaring at the target of his wrath, with his fists clenched in rage. While they had witnessed similar verbal threats from the agent over the years, this time it really sounded like he meant it. The witnesses shifted uneasily and turned back to their own work, but all kept an ear out for more trouble. Meanwhile, McGee sent a worried glance towards Ziva before trying to mollify the furious senior agent.
"Uh, Tony? What…what ever it is you think I did…"
"I know it was you, McGee. Who else would hack into my computer and hide my unfinished case reports? It took me nearly an hour to find them!"
"Tony, I wouldn't do something like that, I swear. Maybe you moved them yourself, and…" He caught the darkening of Tony's expression and switched gears. "Did you check your anti-virus software? It might be a worm of some sort, but I've never heard—"
"Automatic updates and scans, McGee, and a high security firewall. You ought to know since you set them up, which makes you the only one who could actually do something to it."
"That's not necessarily true…"
"Tony, you know that McGee would not do something like this. Besides, if he did, he would not be able to like about it. Look at him: he is not lying."
"Oh, so you were in on it, too?"
"Of course not! Tony, what is wrong with you?"
A strange look crossed the senior agent's face before he spat out a response.
"Nothing. I've had enough of both of you messing with my stuff."
The two younger agents once again exchanged worried glances.
"Tony, I swear to you, we didn't do anything. Let me look at least look at your computer and maybe—"
"Forget it. You just want to cover up what you did."
McGee sighed. "For the last time, I didn't do anything!"
Tony just glared at the younger man until he dropped his gaze and they all returned to their tasks. Finally, after several minutes of tense silence, Tony stood up.
"I'm going for coffee."
"Not now you're not. Gear up. We've got a dead Marine."
"Where?"
"Anacostia."
"I'll gas the truck," said McGee and headed for the stairs.
"I'll tell Ducky," Ziva added and followed him. Tony just huffed and followed Gibbs to the elevator. Tony started to make some comment that he "hoped McGee wouldn't screw that up, too" but the lead agent sent him a cold look and he fell silent, remaining so until the reached the evidence garage. Ziva was already in the center of the front seat and McGee was in the back. Gibbs sent the pair a questioning look and when they didn't respond he climbed into the driver's seat.
The group was uncharacteristically quiet all the way to the scene. Tony was still fuming, but also worried, which he was trying desperately to hide from his teammates. Ziva's question still echoed in his mind.
What is wrong with you?
The worst thing was that he didn't have an answer. He had been feeling ill at ease for the past several days but had been unable to pinpoint a cause. In addition to that, his temper seemed to flare recently for no apparent reason. He didn't know why he had been so quick to accuse McGee. Tony did know, rationally, that McGee would never have messed with such important files, but the fact that he couldn't explain it had driven him into an accusatory rage. The feelings of suspicion and paranoia couldn't be shaken, and in his worried state he had lashed out at the most convenient target.
Most of Tony's anger had faded by the time they arrived at the scene and he was able to carry out his duties without a second thought. He did notice that McGee was keeping his distance, and he did see the glances the younger man exchanged with Ziva, but he tried to ignore it. Finally the scene had been processed and he headed back to pack the truck. As he approached, he could see that McGee and Ziva were deep in conversation, and when they noticed him, they immediately moved away from each other and started to pack the truck. Tony felt a surge of anger.
"Plotting against me again?"
"No, we are not. Why would you think that?"
In the back of his mind, he had asked himself that same question, but he pressed forward.
"So what am I in for, now? More pranks, or something worse?"
Suddenly he felt Gibbs' hand connect with the back of his head. "Stop looking for trouble, DiNozzo. It's your turn to ride in the back."
McGee opened his mouth to protest but a glare from the Boss put an end to any further debate. He and Ziva quickly headed for the front of the truck.
"Boss—"
"Get in the truck, DiNozzo."
The ride back was equally silent. McGee and Ziva took the evidence to Abby while Tony followed Gibbs back to the bullpen. Once they were in the elevator and the doors shut, Gibbs flipped the switch and turned to his senior agent.
"What's going on with you?"
"Nothing, Boss."
Gibbs took a step closer and Tony felt an unfamiliar sense of rage as the older man invaded his personal space.
"It doesn't look like nothing to me."
Tony couldn't meet the man's intense gaze. He was afraid the eye contact would drive him to do something he would immediately regret.
"Just feeling a little under the weather, that's all."
Gibbs took a step back and stared at him, obviously trying to decide what to do about the blatant lie he had just received.
"OK, fine," Tony began in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "I had a bad night, I'm taking it out on my co-workers. Won't happen again."
"A 'bad night'?"
Tony felt the heat rise in his cheeks. "Nightmares, OK?"
Gibbs' eyebrows shot up in surprise. "How bad?"
"Bad enough. Look, Boss, I…it won't interfere with the job again. I promise."
"It better not." Gibbs flipped the switch again. "But next time, remember, my door is open. Don't let it get this bad again. Understood?"
"Yes, Boss."
When the elevator finally reached the bullpen, Tony went to his desk and sat down, briefly closing his eyes before he got back to work, relieved to have escaped further interrogation.
The nightmares to which he admitted having had been the worst he'd ever experienced and they had left him with a slew of unpleasant dredged up memories, some of which made their way to the front of his mind as he tried to work.
You'll wind up in the gutter…that temper of yours…
His thoughts were interrupted by the return of Ziva and McGee, who both immediately went to their desks and started to work without a word. The atmosphere was tense for the next hour, but soon started to relax as the team worked together to dig up the necessary evidence for their case.
Soon McGee discovered something and headed for Abby's lab, and Gibbs instructed Tony to go with him. Tony suspected the Boss was forcing a "talk" with the younger agent, and he admitted he felt a small measure of relief. Despite the grief he gave the younger man, Tony knew he would feel better after he cleared the air.
The doors had closed and Tony was about ready to speak when his phone rang. He checked the message and returned it to his pocket.
Wrong number. Weird.
McGee finally cleared his throat and turned to the older man. Tony almost grinned. He knew he Probie would break first…
A gasp of surprise brought him back to his senses. The elevator was stopped, the door was open, and Jimmy and Abby were looking at him with expressions of horror on their faces. He suddenly realized his body was facing the wall over the elevator and he was pressing his arm against something. When he turned his head to look he was staring into McGee's wide, terrified eyes. The younger man was backed up against the side of the elevator, and Tony's own arm was across his throat.
Tony immediately released McGee and backed away until his back hit the opposite side of the elevator. The horror at what he had just done flooded his senses, but before he could do anything else, McGee hit one of the buttons on the elevator and the doors slid shut, blocking the forensic scientist and autopsy gremlin from view.
"McGee? What…what are you…?"
"I'm taking you to Ducky," he croaked.
"Me? What about…" He could see the skin starting to darken at McGee's throat. "Jeez, McGee, why did I…?"
"You don't remember, do you? You blacked out?"
"How-?"
"I could see it…in your eyes. You weren't…it was like you weren't even in there."
Tony slid down the wall to the floor. "Oh my God…I could have killed you, Tim."
Tim stayed on his side of the elevator but he crouched down to Tony's level. "Tony, I know you weren't…I know you weren't yourself. I have to ask: have you…have you started taking anything lately? A new prescription, Maybe?"
"What?"
"Sometimes…sometimes there are adverse reactions, and…"
"You think I'm on drugs?" He saw a strange, sad look cross the other agent's face. "You do…"
"I'm not suggesting it was completely voluntary…" At that moment the doors opened, and they saw that Ducky was waiting for them. The M.E.'s eyes widened in surprise when he caught sight of McGee.
"Dear, Lord!"
"Ducky…" Tim's voice had grown even hoarser. "Tony needs to be checked out."
"And you as well. What happened? Abigail called and…" He looked over his shoulder just as Jimmy dashed into the room. "Mr. Palmer said you might need medical attention."
"I'm fine. We need to speak to you. Privately." He shot a glance at Palmer and before the young man could protest, Ducky dismissed him.
"I'll handle this, Mr. Palmer. Could you please go get some ice for Timothy's neck?"
"Y-yes, Dr. Mallard." Jimmy sent them one last worried look before leaving.
"Anthony, are you all right? What happened?"
"I don't even know, Ducky. One minute I was standing in the elevator with Tim, and the next thing I remember I was…I had my arm across his throat."
"I could tell he wasn't himself," explained Tim. "His eyes were…weird. Do you have any idea what could have caused this?"
"Nothing specific immediately comes to mind, but…"
"Maybe I'm just crazy." That temper of yours…
"While it may be some sort of induced psychosis, I do not think you have lost your senses."
"Come on, Tony. At least let Ducky take a look."
Tony looked up at McGee and finally nodded before pulling himself to his feet and staggering down the short hall into the autopsy suite. By the time he was sitting on one of the autopsy tables, Palmer had returned with an ice pack for Tim and managed to convince the younger agent to submit to a quick exam while Ducky worked on Tony. After several tense minutes, Ducky stood back and sighed.
"I don't see anything obvious from a medical standpoint, but my resources here are limited. I'm going to arrange for you to take a trip to Bethesda for more tests, Tony, and Timothy should undergo more diagnostic testing as well." He went to his desk to make the calls, while Tony remained on the table, swinging his feet. He had visited a cornucopia of ideas for potential afflictions by the time Ducky returned.
"Mr. Palmer?"
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Would you be so kind as to transport these two to Bethesda? I will inform the Director and Jethro of their absence."
"Uh, Doctor…"
"Don't worry, Jimmy, I promise I won't go psycho on you."
"But if it will make you feel better, Palmer, we can tie him up."
Tony turned to glare at McGee and caught his subtle smirk.
"Forget it, McKinky, I'm not into bondage, at least not with you two." He managed a grin and Tim chuckled, while Jimmy smiled nervously.
"Uh, OK. Come on, then." Jimmy headed for the door but Tim didn't move.
"I'll be right there. I need to speak to Ducky for a minute."
The senior agent followed the younger man to his car where they were joined by McGee a few minutes later, and were soon on their way to the Navy hospital. The trio remained silent for the entire trip, although Tony's thoughts continued to whirl.
There's something wrong…either you've finally lost it or something bad is going on inside your head…a big juicy brain tumor, turning you into the nut who tried to strangle his partner…
Finally they reached the hospital, where a friend of Ducky was waiting for them. Tim was shuffled off to an exam room and Tony was taken to the diagnostics section.
Several hours, and a multitude of tests later, and they still didn't have an answer. The doctor was not particularly helpful.
"All of the tests look clean, but I'll be sending the scans out for further examination. Right now it looks like you're the picture of health."
Tony snorted. Some picture.
"It will take a little longer for the blood tests, but as of right now we can't find anything."
"Great."
"I would recommend a couple of days away from work. It is possible that this is stress related, and you may just need some time to decompress. I'll schedule an appointment for you with one of our occupational psychologists as soon as possible. It can't hurt."
"Sure, OK. It there anything else, doctor?"
"No, but I'll let you know as soon as I have the results of the rest of your tests."
"Thanks." Tony went back to the waiting area and found McGee and Palmer. McGee was still holding an ice pack to his neck, but he did look a bit better. He looked up as Tony approached.
"Well?"
Tony winced. He didn't sound better.
"Still waiting on some tests, but the rest of them are clean. The Doc thinks it was stress-related."
"I guess that's possible," said Jimmy, and, after a brief pause, McGee nodded. Tony turned his attention to the younger agent.
"You OK?"
"Fine. I'll be sore for a few days, and on a mostly liquid diet, but I'll live."
"I'm sorry, man. Looks like I owe you big time."
"I'll collect, too, you know," Tim croaked with a smirk.
"I guess you guys need a ride back to NCIS? I spoke to Doctor Mallard and the Director gave you the rest of the day off." He saw the alarmed look that crossed Tony's face and paled. "It's OK, Doctor Mallard didn't give him the details. I think Gibbs knows, but…"
"Thanks, Jimmy. Let's go."
The left Bethesda and drove back to the Navy Yard, where Tim and Tony retrieved their vehicles and headed home.
Tony had been home for a little over an hour, debating the entire time on whether or not to go see Gibbs, when his phone beeped, indicating a text message. He checked his inbox and smiled when he saw the message from his partner.
Pizza and ice cream? My treat.
Tony just shook his head. He knew what the younger man was trying to do and felt a surge of guilt.
I really take him for granted.
He sent a message back. Be right there. He reminded himself to stop at the store for Nutter Butters to crush over the ice cream for Tim, gathered his wallet and keys, and headed for Silver Spring.
Bag in hand, he climbed the stairs to Tim's apartment. When he reached the door, he raised his hand to knock, imagining the delight Tim would show when presented with his favorite treat. The door swung open, and before he could step inside, everything went black.
When he came to, he was sitting on the floor, slumped against something solid. He looked around and blinked, trying to clear his head. He noticed an odd, yet familiar smell, and the feel of something wet and sticky on his hands. Finally he looked down and sucked in a breath.
His hands were covered in blood.
Breathing heavily, he looked around, almost afraid of what he would see. He was in Tim's apartment, his back against the divider between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment, facing the myriad of computer equipment that partially filled the small space. It appeared he was alone.
"McGee?"
He crawled towards the bedroom and stopped, horror stricken, when he saw what lay just inside the door. McGee was on his side, with one arm behind him and the other stretched out over his head. He, too, was covered in blood, and the source was clear: a large knife was sticking out of his chest.
TBC…