Thanatopsis

Chapter Twelve

Tony went as fast as he could, but the house was on the other side of the city. Gibbs and Ziva were even further away; still at headquarters when Tony hung up the phone. McGee only sat in the passenger seat, not saying a word. Tony was amazed by the way his gift was working for them. You wouldn't think it was an accident that caused it to happen, but fate. Of course, fate sure as hell picked the right person. In reality, if it had happened to Tony, he would have locked himself in his house and never left. It was kind of scary, to be connected with something so unnatural.

They arrived at the house just as Gibbs and Ziva pulled up. It was all over very quickly. Turner was inside, in the living room, staring at the north wall which was covered in literally hundreds of color and black and white photos. They seemed to be more faded towards the middle, as if they had been there a while. The photos were of women; white, with dark hair. Some seemed to be the usual type of stalker picture, far off and behind trees and fences, while some had obviously come from the internet and newspapers. Tony saw one on the end that looked like it was cut out from a high school yearbook. On the far top right corner was Chief Petty Officer Megan Waters. There was nobody else in the house, but there was blood in the basement. And more pictures, these of less appealing nature. McGee gasped at the sight, but Gibbs and Ziva just threw it off as a gasp of shock, rather than what Tony knew it really meant. While Gibbs and Ziva dragged Rick Turner out to the car McGee stepped up to the wall.

"I – recognize some of them. Not their faces, necessarily, but their…"

"Auras?"

McGee nodded. "I suppose that makes the most sense." He turned to Tony. "We should check the back yard."

The sight was sickening. The ground was recently disturbed. Very recently disturbed. And in many places. There were multiple shovels littered on the ground. And the smell. The bodies clearly were not buried down far enough, allowing it to seep up through the ground. McGee stood and stared, but Tony couldn't take it. The air felt so heavy and still, and combined with the smell and the hot sun on the back of his neck it caused Tony to become very, unpleasantly sick next to a nearby tree. That particular reaction hadn't occurred with him for over ten years. A hand on his back made him stand back up and wipe his mouth.

"Are you okay?" McGee asked him.

"Am I okay? You saw everything that he did to them, why aren't you freaking out?"

"You've asked me that before, you know."

"Yeah and I never got an answer."

McGee looked back to the yard, a serene look on his face. "Because I saw them again. All of them." He turned back to Tony. "They're finally at peace."

Tony and McGee had disappeared. Gibbs left Ziva to wait for the locals and walked through the house, past the wall of women and the door down to the basement ,or, as Gibbs would probably think about it for a very long time, 'The Gateway to Hell.' Maybe they were outside. He sure as hell didn't want to be in here anymore than he already had to. He walked through the kitchen, nearly empty. There was no food or cooking utensils in sight. The killer didn't eat here, but Gibbs didn't expect anything less. People like him liked to keep the normal parts of their lives separate from the bad parts. Some even thought of fasting as a cleansing process to prepare their bodies and minds for what they were about to do. It was sickening.

Gibbs didn't just not like finding these places, hated it. He knew the rest of the team did as well. This was quickly evidenced by Tony, who Gibbs saw through the window, hunched over, heaving on the edge of the forest. He started to go out the back door when McGee came up behind Tony and placed a hand on his back. Tony stood up quickly, a heated look on his face. Gibbs opened the door quietly, wondering why Tony might be mad. He wasn't quite yelling at McGee, but he could tell he was trying to holding it back. He spoke loud enough for Gibbs to hear, "Yeah, and I never got an answer." He wondered what they could be talking about. McGee said something quietly and Tony widened his eyes.

Gibbs stepped out of the doorway and asked, "What are you two talking about?"

They both visibly jumped and turned in his direction. McGee stammered out, "N—nothing, Boss." But Gibbs didn't believe him. It was clearly something that they had discussed before.

Gibbs was curious enough about it that later, when they got back to NCIS, he cornered McGee in the elevator. He flipped the switch, "All right, speak."

It looked like McGee was trying to act confused, but Gibbs caught the nervousness hidden just beneath the surface. There was some internal struggle. "It was nothing, Boss. Just an old argument that came up. Tony – it was just really bad timing."

Gibbs didn't necessarily believe him, but he could tell that it was all he would get from him. Damn, he taught the kid well. But that didn't mean he was done with him. "Is there anything else going on with you? You haven't been yourself lately."

McGee looked sheepish. "You've noticed, huh?"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "I'm not an idiot, Tim. You know you can come to me with anything."

McGee half-smiled. "It's – not really my story to tell."

"What do you mean? Tony? Is that why—"

"No. Not Tony." He looked uncomfortable under Gibbs' hard glare.

"Tell me, Tim. If it's bugging you that much, you can't keep it all inside. Rule four."

McGee nodded. "The second best way to keep a secret, tell one other person, if you must."

"Have you told anyone else?"

"No."

Gibbs thought for a moment, while McGee stayed stubbornly silent. There was only one big thing lately. Surely it wasn't…. "It's not Ducky, is it?"

McGee's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he tried to look away, but Gibbs grabbed at his shoulders, his own curiosity and frustration on the subject taking over. "McGee, what is wrong with Ducky? And why hasn't he told anybody where he's been?" he still didn't say anything. "Hey!"

He didn't mean to shout, and when McGee winced, Gibbs let go and took a step back. "I'm sorry, Tim. I'm just worried."

"That's completely understandable." He sighed. "I just don't know if he wants me to tell you. I tried to talk him into it, but he didn't want everybody to worry."

Gibbs had to fight not to show the anger he didn't want to feel towards Ducky. The man was never very good at sharing burdens. "Please tell me."

McGee closed his eyes tight for a moment. "Okay."

As Gibbs listened, he realized that he was completely right to be worried before. He just couldn't believe that Ducky had tried to handle the impending death of a friend on his own. He supposed he should be glad that he at least let Tim in. And he had to give Tim the credit for being more persistent than him. And loyal – no matter how much it was clearly eating him up inside.

As he told him about Daniel, though, it seemed as if he was holding something back. He stuttered a little, trying to work his way around the truth. Gibbs didn't want to push him any further, so he let it go. But when he got to the part about going back when Daniel passed, to 'be with Ducky,' as he said, Gibbs told him that in no uncertain terms that he was to go by himself. Both Ducky and McGee needed someone there. He could tell it was hitting McGee harder than he wanted to let on.

It looked like McGee wanted to say no, but then his resolve failed. "You're not gonna give up are you?"

Gibbs glared.

He took a deep breath. "Okay. Yeah, you can come."

Ducky hadn't called Tim again. He considered just going back to the hospital, whether Ducky liked it or not, but, quite honestly, it didn't seem an appropriate thing to do. He needed to spend as much time with Daniel as possible, and McGee would just be intruding.

As guilty as Tim may have felt about telling Gibbs about what was happening without Ducky's permission, he felt relieved to not have to hold it in anymore. Ducky needed the support whether he knew it or not. But that wasn't what Tim was most concerned about. In telling Gibbs he could come, it meant that he would have to tell him about his 'gift.' And he was a little scared that he wouldn't believe him, after all, look at how long it took Tony. He always knew everyone would have to find out eventually, he just didn't think it would be so soon. It was a stressful situation, no matter which way you looked at it.

The problem was getting up the courage to just tell Gibbs. McGee had put it off for days. Every time he started to talk to him, he got too freaked out to talk. He wasn't scared of Gibbs; he was just afraid that he would send him to see the psychologist. He would ask Tony – he would know what to do – but that would involve him having to tell another person about Daniel, and he didn't think he was ready for that. Tony knew about everything else. He could wait a little longer to find out about Ducky. At least until Ducky wanted to tell everybody.

McGee couldn't get those thoughts out of his head as the entire team sat quietly at their desks in the bullpen, writing reports, after yet another arrest in a seemingly endless stream of crime. He hadn't smiled in days; it had been nearly a week and a half since they took Rick Turner down. They didn't need a confession, the evidence was all there. The only thing a jury had to decide was whether the death penalty was necessary. McGee, for one, hoped that whatever happened, he suffered. The man deserved to feel all the pain that those women had to endure. As hard as McGee tried not to let things like that get to him, nobody had that kind of capacity to ignore the pain staring them right in the face.

He was suddenly jerked out of his reverie by the ringing of his cell phone. He answered without looking at the screen. "McGee."

"Timothy," came a strained voice.

McGee stood up quickly and walked over to stand behind the stairs to the upper floor. "Ducky, are you okay? What's wrong?"

Ducky took a shaky breath. "It's time, lad. He doesn't have much time left."

McGee was struck speechless for a moment. He wasn't expecting this to happen so soon.

"Timothy?"

"Yeah, Duck. I'll be there as soon as I can." He paused. "There's something else."

Ducky cut him off. "Don't worry. I know that you told Gibbs. He informed me that he forced it out of you." He gave an attempt at a laugh. "I would suggest you bring him as well."

McGee closed eyes. "Alright. We'll be there."

McGee stood for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. Fuck. He still had yet to figure out how to start the conversation with Gibbs, but he just had to face it like a man; nothing less would be accepted. Maybe if he seemed confident, the news would be easier to receive. Yeah, right, he thought.

He stepped back around into the bullpen. Nobody appeared to have noticed that he had left, being so caught up in their own work. He walked to the front of Gibbs' desk. He looked up. "Yes?"

McGee gave him a meaningful look. "Can I talk to you, Boss?"

He didn't give any indication that he knew what he was talking about. He stood up and led McGee to the stairs. Tony and Ziva's heads popped up from their paperwork and stared curiously at them as they passed. He could hear them whispering behind their retreating backs. Gibbs went halfway down a flight of stairs then stopped and turned to McGee. "Daniel?"

"Yeah. He doesn't have much longer. Ducky doesn't sound too good."

Gibbs took a breath and nodded solemnly. "Damn it." He looked back to the door to their floor. "Well, let's go."

Tony was sitting on Ziva's desk as they came back through. They were obviously talking about what they thought was going on. "Something up, Boss?" Tony piped up as Gibbs and McGee grabbed their stuff from their desks.

"No. Make sure those reports are done by tomorrow. We won't be back tonight."

Tony stood and tried to stop McGee who was behind Gibbs. McGee slipped past him and mouthed, "I'll tell you later." He knew Tony didn't like to be kept in the dark, but he nodded faintly that he understood.

Gibbs drove. Maybe working up the courage wasn't what Tim needed. In his experience, courage usually came out of nowhere; there was no preparation involved. So, ten minutes after they left, he blurted it out. "I have to tell you something."

Gibbs kept his eyes on the road. "You sure this is the right time for sharing, Tim?"

McGee sighed. "Yes."

Gibbs glanced in his direction, waiting for him to continue. "Okay. Well?"

It took a minute to get started. "It's – it's about Daniel. Well, it's kind of about Daniel."

"Get to the point, Tim."

If there was some way to work his way into it, he had yet to find it, and Gibbs was looking at him more than was really comfortable, considering he was going well over the speed limit. He closed his eyes tight and just said it. "I'm psychic."

Gibbs didn't make a sound, so McGee slowly peeled his eyes and looked over at his Boss. He had glued back to the road, almost looking as if he didn't hear him. But McGee knew better. He was trying to decide whether or not his agent had lost his mind. "I'm not crazy, Gibbs."

Gibbs blinked. "Nope. Crazy is definitely not the word I would use."

Well this was going just about as well as he had expected. "Look. I know how this sounds. Being – what I am – isn't supposed to be possible. Believe me, I had some serious issues with accepting it myself. So did Tony."

"So Tony knows about this too?" he made a cursory glance at McGee.

"Yeah. He does. He thought I'd lost too it when I first told him."

Gibbs shook his head slightly, like he was trying to shake some sense into his brain. "So when did this happen, McGee?"

He's patronizing me. "When I was shot and almost died. I had a – vision. It's actually why Ducky took me to meet Daniel."

"A vision? And Ducky knows too."

"Yes, our resident psychologist knows. And he believes me."

They stopped at a stop sign. Gibbs turned to look McGee in the eyes. McGee knew he was trying to believe him, but was finding it – let's just say difficult. A car pulled up behind them and honked his horn, causing Gibbs to stick his hand out the window in a rude gesture that McGee had never seen the man make before. He wanted to laugh, but he didn't think that doing so would help his case of defending his sanity. The car drove around them returning the hand sign and honking again.

"Tim—"

"Yeah, I know, you want to believe me, but it's hard to do. You're worried about my mental health. You think that it was just a dream that my mind made up when I was delirious, but you should know that it's happened again. I've seen ghosts – more than once. The Turner case. I got a little supernatural help on that one. Chief Petty Officer Megan Waters told me, let's go with 'from the grave,' to check Turner out. Do you really think I'm that goods at computers." He thought about that statement. "Okay, well, I suppose I am good enough to have figured out the connection, but it would have taken me a lot longer to do it. Ducky introduced me to his friend Daniel after I told him." Another car, another inappropriate hand signal. "Daniel knows a lot about this stuff. He used to have a friend with the same gift and he's met other people over the years. He asked me to…. He asked me to try something with him. He wanted me to attempt to connect with him, spiritually. I could feel everyone he ever knew there in the room with us, waiting for him. That's why I wanted to come back when he died. To see if I could sense anything else."

Gibbs didn't move for a minute; even when another car sped by, this time with a vulgar shout towards their car. It didn't seem as if he knew what to say (did he ever?) It was a lot to process and McGee didn't expect him to believe him all at once. He gave up for the moment.

"Look, we should just go, we can talk about it later. Ducky needs us right now."

Gibbs still didn't say anything, but put the car into drive and slammed his foot down on the gas, grateful for something else to do.

AN: Chapter thirteen should be up soon.