AN: This chapter comes from a suggestion from Precious Pup. Thank you! I love getting suggestions from readers; it really, really makes the creative cogs in my head get going.

I was notified multiple times of my mistake about the nightshift being morning until night. I have fixed to be night until morning. Thanks for the help!

Thanatopsis

Chapter Ten

Another case. A car accident – supposedly - with a lot of blood and very little to go on. NCIS was investigating because of some extremely special circumstances. The sailor, a Chief Petty Officer Melanie Waters, was privy to some top secret information. She was a microbiologist, working on something very important to the Navy; something they hadn't been let onto, yet. McGee squatted down next to the open door of the car and took pictures as Palmer did his initial inspection. The car was an older model Chevy – unlikely to have an anti-theft tracking device. No way to tell where she had been in the hours before her death. The victim appeared to have hit her head on the steering wheel. McGee snapped another photo. She had congealed blood on her face from where the wound had bled until she died. From the amount, it appeared to have taken her a while. Her clothes were dirty, and she had some cuts and bruises that practically screamed struggle.

There were no witnesses to the actual crash, being that it was on a scarcely used highway. However a couple had come by a few minutes after the accident. According to them, the wreckage was still smoking when they arrived. The car looked as if it had hit the guardrail full force. Tony was interviewing them now. Ziva was inspecting the skid marks on the road, or lack thereof. The longer they were there, the less it was looking like an accident.

Gibbs suddenly came up behind them. "TOD?"

Jimmy looked up, putting his liver prove away. "About six hours ago."

Gibbs nodded, jotting it down in his notes. "So what do you think, Palmer?"

Palmer pointed at Water's mouth. "See the foam there? That could indicate a seizure of some kind."

"Caused by what?"

"At this moment, I'm not exactly able to tell." He stood up and faced Gibbs. "Although, if she has no history of epilepsy, I would start considering an outside force as the cause of this seizure."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"

Jimmy seemed a little unsure of himself. "I don't want to completely send you guys off in the wrong direction, but-"

"Spit it out," Gibbs demanded, not too harshly.

"She may have been… drugged," Palmer said. "But like I said, we'd need to make sure that this wasn't a preexisting condition. It doesn't even have to be preexisting; this might be the first occurrence, or just a fluke."

"McGee." Gibbs turned to where McGee had been messing with his smart phone.

"No history of epilepsy on her records, Boss."

Gibbs looked back to Palmer. "So you're saying she was drugged—" Palmer started to protest, "may have been drugged. Then while she was driving, she had a seizure because of it, crashed her car, and died from what? The drugs or the crash?"

Palmer went back to the body. "Only a high dose of drugs could make her have a seizure like this, and there really isn't that much blood." He thought for a moment. "Unless there is some serious head trauma that I can't see, the drugs are looking like the cause."

Gibbs nodded his thanks to Jimmy and walked back to the Challenger. "Ziva, you're with me. McGee, get Abby to do a tox screen as soon as you get back."

"Where are you going, Boss?" Tony called, coming back under the crime scene tape.

"To her lab. I wanna know what she was working on."

Tony came over to McGee and Jimmy, grumbling. "Why does Ziva always get to do all the fun stuff?"

McGee was puzzled. "What's so fun about going to a lab to interview scientists?"

Tony looked at him, annoyed. "They're not just interviewing them. They're hunting down a lead, grabbing on and not letting go, turning on the intimidation, in your face, hardcore police work."

McGee and Palmer both stared at him as he continued on his little rant. McGee finally stopped him. "Tony, are you okay?" he asked.

Tony snapped out of his rant, only slightly. "I'm fine. I'm just bored. We haven't had a really interesting case in a week, not unless you count that doped up Marine who gave me one hell of a headache. And that was only fun for you." he glared at McGee.

Clearly, Tony didn't remember it the way McGee did. "Tony, I was two inches away from killing you the entire time you wouldn't shut up. I – " McGee looked up to the sky, trying to gain back his composure. He placed a placating hand on Tony's shoulder. "Look," he steered him over to the autopsy gurney. "Why don't you help Palmer with the body and I'll finish documenting the scene. There'll be plenty of action soon enough."

Tony nodded, reminding McGee of a child being told he couldn't have his favorite toy. McGee rolled his eyes as he watched Tony help Palmer to lift the body out of the car. As soon as they were cleared, McGee started taking photos of the now empty driver's seat. He scratched at an itch on the back of his neck and then rolled his head around. It was too early in the morning for this. Nearly everybody who had been here before had left, only two cop cars now stood nearby, with four local LEOs left to guard the scene, on either side of the crash site.

McGee walked around to the front of the car, were there was an impressive dent that nearly caved in the engine block. That and the lack of black tire markings in the road held water to Palmer's theory that the Chief Petty Officer did not have control of her vehicle when it came to an abrupt halt. McGee suddenly winced slapped his neck in a natural response as he felt something bite the same place that had itched a minute ago. There was nothing on his hand. He must have missed it the first time.

A strong breeze of air blew past his face. He looked up to the sky. Strange, it hadn't been blowing before. He waited for another one to come, for something to rustle the trees, but nothing happened. He looked around everything was completely still. Had nobody else felt that? Something started to feel off in the back of his mind. He rubbed at the back of his neck again. It was starting to feel hot; maybe that bug had stung him. He searched around for the sting, finding nothing. He was just about to ask Tony, busy getting the gurney stuck on the edge of the autopsy van, if he could see anything, when it started to tingle. No, not tingle, vibrate. That can't be right, he thought. Wait. This felt awfully familiar, it was that warm, vibrating sensation he'd had that day with Daniel.

McGee spun around. Tony knew, but he didn't need all these people to see him spazing in the middle of the crime scene. There was no privacy on this road; the guardrail in front of him led about ten feet down at a small angle before it flattened out. He figured that was his best chance if he didn't want to be seen. He easily jumped the barrier and quickly made his way down away from the highway. He still felt incredibly exposed, and his neck and shoulders were covered with the reaction to the supernatural. His knees grew weak and he was forced to sit down on the slight incline, and he prepared himself to be 'communicated' with. The warmth had made it almost all the way down his back when the outside world was cut off from him.

It was different than the last time. The atmosphere surrounding him told of pain and fear. It was a dark, angry energy. Like before, he couldn't see anything, but he could sense an entity close to him, as if it was trying to whisper in his ear. But it felt more like it was screaming; at least, it wanted to. He couldn't hear anything at first, but then, as if from some great distance, he heard someone yelling a name. Rick Turner. McGee wanted to ask what the name meant, but he was powerless to talk back to the spirit. Then the words being repeated changed. The back yard? He tried to ask why with all his power, but was met with only resistance.

The real world came back in a rush that left McGee feeling dizzy. He had to prop himself up against the incline so that he didn't fall back into the dirt. He could hear Tony calling for him from up above, and he attempted to yell back, but was having trouble finding his voice.

"McGee? Where the hell are you?" McGee could hear the glass crunching under his feet as he searched around. "Don't worry, the Autopsy Gremlin's already left, you don't have to hide anymore." A pause, then "McGee!" footsteps made their way down behind Tim.

Tony skidded to a halt in front of him and landed on his knees. He was erratic. "McGee, are you okay? Did you fall?" He placed his hands on McGee's shoulders and gave him a surprised look when he felt the cold sheen of sweat covering his body.

McGee opened his mouth. He was still shaken up and a little queasy, too. What the spirit had told him was disturbing, to say the least. Tony seemed to sense that what was wrong with McGee wasn't natural. He grabbed McGee's arms and pulled him up, and hauled him back over the rail and over to the crime scene van.

Tony finished collecting all the evidence by himself, told the local cops that the NCIS tow truck would be there within the hour and quickly took off down the road. About twenty miles away, he stopped in front of a diner along the highway and turned to look at McGee. "Spill."

McGee took a deep breath and cleared his throat. "I saw – well I heard something. It was a spirit."

Tony raised his eyebrows, waiting for more. When nothing came, he gestured for McGee to go on, saying, "And?"

"I got a name. Rick Turner. And a – suggestion." McGee chewed on the inside of his lip. "It said check the back yard."

"The – check the back yard?" he shook his head. "So a spirit wants you to go creeping around someone's house? For what?"

"It didn't really get that far, but I think it has something to do with the case we're on now?"

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling, I guess."

Tony sat back in the driver's seat. "Okay. So maybe run the victim's name with this Rick Turner guy back at the office and see what pops up."

He did. Gibbs and Ziva were still gone by the time they got back to the office. Tony took Abby the evidence while Tim headed straight for the bullpen to test Tony's theory. Maybe the two names had something in common. He sat at his desk and set up the search, running credit cards, memberships, airline and bus tickets, anything he could think of that two unrelated people might have in common. He also pulled up Rick Turner's file. Unaffiliated with the military, currently married to a Kathy Turner – no children, - worked in the loans office at a D.C. Metro back. He belonged to a Methodist church, and he had recently joined a gym. He was completely unremarkable.

Or so McGee thought when his screen was covered with matches. Credit card statements that said, starting about two months ago, the two often went to the same coffee shop, usually within ten minutes of each other. Also, the gym Turner had just joined, around two-and-a-half months ago, was the same one Melanie Waters belonged to for the past five years. Another match came up, in front of everything else. They had both vacationed in Baja at the exact same time, according to the matching hotel bills staring him in the face.

Tony's voice came out of nowhere, startling Tim. "Well, that can't be good."

AN: Thanks to everybody who had reviewed, favorited, followed, and read my story. You have no idea how important that is to me. It's so awesome. Love the reviews. So hit me with some suggestions, constructive criticism, or just a comment on how you think I'm doing. I'd love to hear from you. Thanks! -DOS