A/N: Okay, folks. The rating for this story is what it is because from here on, the content requires it.

So, buckle your seat belts and hang on.

After sending Tony and Ziva home, with the promise that he'd keep an eye on Tim and stay in touch with the young man, Gibbs headed out – in need of a face to face conversation with his long-time friend who now knew more about his obviously troubled agent, than he did. And while this fact didn't sit well with the Team Leader, it was the fact that the young man was obviously going through something more alone than he needed or even wanted to, that bothered Gibbs the most at the moment. He needed answers and he wasn't gonna settle for any more cryptic crap from Ducky about it.

Briskly knocking on Ducky's door, Gibbs wasn't surprised to find he didn't have long to wait before he was ushered into the older man's kitchen and handed a fresh hot cup of coffee. "You were expecting me." He found himself softening in his anger toward this gentle soul he'd long regarded as a close personal friend.

"Yes, Jethro, I was. I do apologize for hanging up on you so, earlier, but I'm afraid your news rather alarmed me and I wasn't quite myself for a moment." Ducky humbly offered.

"Yeah. I got that, Duck. Talk to me." Gibbs gently pushed.

"Jethro, I cannot violate Timothy's confidence! Surely, you can understand that?" the M.E. was beginning to get upset again at the very idea.

"Ducky. I will not sit here and let something happen to him for the sake of keeping his secrets! You, of all people should understand that!" The Team Leader wasn't about to back down even if he had to upset his friend to get his point across.

"Have you spoken with him?" Ducky asked pointedly as he allowed himself to calm down in the face of the Team Leader's genuine concern for his agent.

"I had Ziva call him. She had him on speaker, but he didn't know it." Gibbs informed him.

"I take it the conversation left too many unanswered questions." Came the M.E.'s observation.

"Ducky, he said he had to talk to me but that he couldn't do that to me. Something about not willing to cause me pain. What the hell's he talkin' about?" Gibbs shared his confusion.

"I'm uncertain, Jethro. We did not discuss his need to talk with you." Ducky answered in return.

"Said something about needing to talk to me like a…but he wouldn't finish the thought."

Ducky's brain slid the pieces together. They slid into place and the picture took shape. In all likelihood knew the answer Jethro was searching for, but he couldn't do anything about it. He could not violate Timothy's trust in him. If he gave Jethro what he believed to be the answer, Timothy would undoubtedly take that as his trust in Ducky's confidence had been violated But,Jethro had a valid point as well. Timothy's welfare and well-being were not optional sacrifices to be made in the name of that trust.

"Jethro, sit. I shall call him and we will see what we can gather of his well-being. Will that suffice?" Ducky offered in hopes of accomplishing both goals.

"For now." Gibbs relented as he took a seat at the table and waited with bated breath as Ducky hit the speed dial number in his phone for Tim and set his phone where they could both hear the young man through the speaker phone.

"Hey, Ducky." Tim quietly answered the phone.

"Timothy, I just received a disturbing phone call from Jethro."

"About me?"

"Yes, apparently, your teammates were most concerned about you and attempted to go to your apartment and check on you."

"And when they found out I moved, they went straight to Gibbs. Great! I'll bet he's really mad at me now!" Tim lamented.

"Timothy McGee, he is concerned. You do not give him enough credit! I gather you did not inform anyone of this change, young man?" Ducky asked sternly.

"I told Director Shepherd about it when I handed her my change of address form. I know the Agency has to know where we live, Ducky."

"Timothy, what about Jethro's rule to never be unreachable?"

"I'm pretty sure that applies to our cell phones. If it applies to knowing our address, I swear I didn't realize it. Ducky, you know I would never violate one of the boss' rules on purpose!"

"Timothy, might I suggest you talk to Jethro about this as soon as possible, in the event that this rule did apply to your address as well? We wouldn't want him to think you were in fact deliberately breaking his rule."

"I guess you're right. Although, if he doesn't know me well enough by now to know I'd never do something like that, I don't…"

"Rest assured, young man, Jethro does know you that well. I do believe it will be of great service to both of you, just to have that discussion, so that no miscommunication is possible?"

"Okay. I'll talk to him about it on Monday."

"Timothy, are you still taking your trip in the morning?"

"Yeah. Ducky, I have to do this. I have to know."

"Yes, well, as I said before, I completely understand. Although, I still do not like it that you will not allow any of your teammates to accompany you or even be told where you are going."

"Ducky, I already explained this to you. I can't do this as an Agent. Can't risk it becoming publicly known either. And I refuse to put anyone else at risk"

"Yes, well, while I completely understand your motivations, Timothy. I do not like the fact that you are disregarding your own safety in this matter."

"Ducky, I'll be fine."

Tim's attempt to pacify the M.E. didn't even settle Gibbs' sudden qualms about the situation. Given that he didn't even know half of what was going on, this was no surprise.

"You will check in with me, every two hours throughout your trip, young man!" Ducky returned in his no-nonsense tone as he steadily held Gibbs' gaze in an effort to assure him that he would keep the young man grounded in physical support complete with a safety line.

As Gibbs' eyebrows marched up to his hairline, Tim's solemn vow came through the phone line

"Okay. That, I can do."

"I mean it, Timothy. One missed call and I will have your team track your phone, privacy be damned!"

"Ducky. I promise you, I will stay in touch. Nothing's gonna happen to me. I'm just gonna drive up there, take care of it, and drive right back." Tim vowed.

Yes, well, do not think that I shall sit idly by while you run into trouble! Do not forget, every two hours, young man!"

"I promise. Ducky?"

"Yes, Timothy?"

"Thank you. I can't thank you enough; for talking to me about it last night, for sitting up while I finally slept through a night. You didn't have to do that. Thank you."

"You needed a good night's sleep. It was as simple as that, young man. And you're quite welcome. You just take care of your business and get back here safely and everything will be fine."

"I will, Ducky. Thank you." Tim ended the call.

Gibbs was pacing now, having lost the battle to stay still while having to keep his mouth shut during this call. This was just getting more unsettling by the minute. "This is what you were talking about when you said I needed to stay alert this weekend." He reasoned out loud.

"Yes, Jethro, it is." Ducky admitted sadly.

"And you won't tell me anything more unless he gets himself into trouble. Kinda like too little too late, don'tcha think, Duck?" Gibbs asked with genuine concern.

"Jethro, there is nothing else I can do." His friend reminded him.

"Yeah, okay. I hear ya. But, I don't have to like it."

"I don't like it, either, Jethro. However, I promise you, the minute he is late for his check in call, I will alert you."

"Gonna have to do something more than that, Duck. Damn it! Abby's not here to track his phone. Guess, Tony'll have to do it. I'm puttin' him on standby, just in case. Thanks, Duck. Appreciate you lookin' out for him."

"Of course, Jethro. After all, he is one of us, is he not?"

"Damn right he is." Gibbs answered as he saluted his friend and headed back out. He had a call to make and some things to think about. As he headed to his car, he hit the speed dial number for his Senior Field Agent.

"Hey, Boss! What's up? We got a case or something?"

"No, Tony. I need you to be on standby tomorrow. I might need you to come in and track McGee's phone."

"Track Probie's phone?"

"Only if you hear from me or Ducky, Tony.

"Okay. Got it. I'm glad Abby and McGee brushed me up on how to do it so that I'm almost as fast as they are at it."

"Thanks Tony."

"Sure thing, Boss. Goodnight." Tony replied, even as he heard the boss click off the call. His gut was churning now, but he began to hope with all his might that his gut was wrong.

Sat – Dec 16th

Tim left out early the next morning intent on reaching his destination without any traffic issues. It was gonna be a harrowing enough day as it was. He didn't blame Ducky for being worried. Quite frankly, he was worried, too. Although he couldn't figure out if he was more worried about Gibbs' reaction if he ever found out about this or about something bad happening to him on this trip. Thank goodness the weather was unseasonably mild today.

Getting in was no problem, but as he walked to the visiting room, and was seated at the table waiting for the man to arrive, Tim's heart was in his throat and his breath was becoming ragged as his nerves began to get the best of him. Man, he wished he could have brought some moral support. But, no. this was an entirely personal mission and he didn't want to be responsible for anyone else's well-being. So, here he sat, waiting. Impatiently.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the door at the other end of the large visiting room opened and the man in question was escorted in. As the scruffy looking scrap of humanity with cold, uncaring eyes sat down across the table from him, Tim had to wonder if he was doing the right thing. Still, he had come this far, it was much too late to back out now and he damn sure wasn't going back without the answer he'd come for. He'd find some backbone from somewhere down near his boots, and pin it in place if he had to.

"Lucas Martin?" Tim asked, suddenly needing verbal verification that he was talking to the right man.

"Who the hell are you?" the scruffy looking man demanded after watching this neatly dressed young man squirm silently for a long minute.

"Well, from what I've been told, there's a real good chance – that I'm your son, Mr. Martin."

"Yeah? So what? You want something from me because a that?"

"No. I mean. Yes. I'm here to ask if you'd be willing to give me a strand of hair or something that I can use to run a fresh DNA test. The results I've been given are old and I'd really appreciate it if we could run a fresh test – to get valid results with the newer, more capable machinery we have nowadays." Tim explained as he glanced at the man across from him. Internally, he couldn't stop sending up silent thanks that the man wasn't sitting here unguarded. Somehow, Tim felt safer with that knowledge remaining front and center in his mind while he waited for the answer.

"So, you think I'm your ole man, huh?" the unkempt man scoffed.

"That's what I've been told." Tim answered him evasively.

"Well, there's only one way that's possible!" Suddenly, the man's face split into a huge maniacal grin that sent chills up Tim's spine as he reached up and yanked out a patch of his hair and threw it down on the table in front of Tim. "Yeah, you can have your hair for your DNA test. I got nothin' to loose. And you got nothin' to gain! Ain't like you're gonna git nothin' from me if I am you're ole man!"

"I won't be asking for anything more from you – even if you are." Tim nervously tried to placate this monster of a man who was supposedly his father. Internally, he prayed with all his might that all of this had been one huge seemingly endless nightmare that he would soon wake up from.

"Yeah? What name she saddle you with?" Lucas demanded.

"Tim." The NCIS Agent answered almost automatically, as if the boss had asked the question.

"Tim, huh? You got a last name?" Alarmingly, Lucas' question came with a change in demeanor as he became less agitated and began to settle, almost as if he was taking a genuine interest in what he was hearing.

The question from the hardened criminal, along with the marked visible changes in his body language made Tim's skin crawl and it took every ounce of discipline within him for him to answer the man. "Yes. Yes I do. But, that's not important. I really need to head back. It's a long drive. Thank you. I really appreciate your cooperation." Tim got up from the table, scooped up the hair, placed it in a baggie he'd brought with him and turned to leave.

"HEY! Don't cha wanna know what I meant when I said there was only one way you could be my kid?" the man shouted as Tim reached for the door handle.

Tim turned to look at him and waited for the answer he knew he really didn't want to hear.

Twenty minutes later and shaking with emotions he didn't realize he had or even know what they were, Tim had somehow managed to make it back out to his car and send Ducky a text message. He was too upset to talk to anyone and had no intention of trying. Somehow, after texting Ducky that he was safely on his way home, Tim managed to drive himself safely away from that place and even for another hour, even so far as finding the interstate when he needed it. From seemingly behind a fog, he soon found himself pulling off the interstate and checking into a hotel. Using his book name and not asking for any room service, Tim put the "Do not disturb' sign on the door, and locked himself in before sinking to the floor in pained disbelief and shock.

Ducky checked his watch. Timothy should have called him by now. The last text message had been two hours ago and he was reaching for his phone to call Jethro, when the next text message came through at 5 pm

Staying overnight at the Interstate Motel – exit 37.
Going to bed now.

Ducky sighed with relief and called Jethro to update him as to Timothy's plans. After reassuring the younger man that Timothy was indeed safe. Ducky allowed himself to enjoy a quiet evening at home while his mother fell asleep early. Eventually, at nine, he took himself off to bed and even managed to fall asleep without a problem.

Gibbs gut was churning. Something was wrong. But, Ducky had just given him his word that Tim was fine. Not even close to being tired enough to sleep; the Team Leader spent a restless night working on a new boat; something he'd thought he was finished with. The fact that he felt driven to start a new one did not bode well for what the future held.

Sun. – Dec. 17th

Morning found Gibbs still hard at work on his boat, but anxiously listening out for his phone to ring. This being Sunday, he realized Ducky went to church. As he got himself ready to go to his own church service, his gut was still telling him something was off. He'd go talk to the M.E. after church and that was the best he could come up with that would ease his worry enough that he could get through the church service.

As he left the church service, he called Ducky to ask for an update on Tim.

"Jethro, he sent me another text message 30 minutes ago saying he was home now." His friend reassured him.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, Jethro. He's fine."

"Thanks, Duck." Gibbs offered as ended the call.

Getting into his car, he called Tony and told him that he was no longer needed on alert. He'd called him last night and updated him but had kept him on alert until Tim was back home safe and sound. Although it wasn't his normal way of handling things, he had decided on the course of action knowing that this whole situation was so far away from normal that he'd felt compelled to handle it with caution.

He couldn't help but hope this was one of those times his gut was wrong. Since it hadn't stopped telling him something was off, he couldn't exactly just blow it off. Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the Navy Yard, intent on keeping his mind occupied with something constructive – like work. The urge to work on the boat paled in comparison to the urge to be here on the yard.

Looking at the stack of cold cases, Gibbs let out a deep sigh of frustration and snapped the first one off the stack – opened it up – and got busy delving into it. Before he knew it, it was late. His phone had been silent all day and it was almost nine PM. Where had the time gone? Packing up, he closed up his work station and headed home.

Tim spent the early part of Sunday morning curled up on the hotel bed, not moving, not giving in to the emotions that battled to get out, barely even conscious of breathing; although he hadn't had to struggle with that. No, what he was struggling with; was himself. Of who he suddenly had become and what the hell he was supposed to do about it. He'd worked so hard to bury this within the last few weeks, but now, not only was it was front and center again; but now, it was so devastatingly painful, it was almost paralyzing; because now; it revolved completely around his relationship with his mother; something he'd completely disregarded for the first time in his life; in a moment of blinding anger and sense of betrayal.

The only times he'd forced himself to move was when he had to text Ducky in order to keep him from worrying and when he'd picked himself up off the floor just enough to curl up on the bed. When Housekeeping had come knocking on the door and roused him, he'd finally managed to drag himself up and out and get headed back home.

Driving had given him something to focus on, allowed the rest of what had thrown him completely off balance to be shoved to the back corners of his mind. Despite the now bitterly cold weather that had come back, the snow had held off until now and when he glanced out of the window, he noticed the white dusting that was gradually getting thicker. It was, after all, only six days til Christmas and they'd had a remarkably mild winter until now. Luckily, the roads were not a problem and getting home wasn't a challenge.

When he reached his apartment, he'd somehow managed to text Ducky one last time, before he flopped down on his bed, once again, allowing the nothingness to swallow him up. Time lost all meaning and quickly ate up not only the daylight, but also the night, as Tim sat frozen in the fog, unwilling and unable to move or think outside of it as it completely enveloped him.