A/N- Hey! New one! This is a oneshot so it is complete! Please review! =D

Written for the NFA 'Hors de Combat' and 'O'Dark Thirty' challenges!

Timothy McGee sat at his typewriter, staring at the blank page.

How was he supposed to do this?

Attn. Director Leon Vance,

December 14th, 2010

Dear Director, I regret to inform you that I must resign from NCIS, effective immediately-

He sighed and pulled the paper from the typewriter and fed it to his shredder.

This was a lot harder than he thought it would be.

Director Leon Vance;

December 14th, 2010

Director Vance, the decision I am informing you of is not one that is easily made, nor is it one being made on my own accord.

I regret to have to tell you that I am resigning from NCIS, effective immediately.

As I said, this decision was not easily made. How I wish I could stay with NCIS until the day I retire, which would have been quite a long time from now had circumstances permitted.

Sadly, they did not and this is why I must leave. I am sorry for any inconveniences my sudden resignation will cause, but I must leave as quickly as possible.

Again, I am terribly sorry,

Regards,

Timothy McGee

McGee sighed, again and pulled the paper from the typewriter. He re-read a couple times before carefully placing it next to the machine. One down, six to go.

Dear Abby,

Abby, I'm sorry that I have to inform you of this in this way. I would have done it in person, but I don't think I can. Perhaps I'm being a coward, but I truly do not know any other way.

I'm leaving, Abby. By the time you read this I will be hundreds of miles away.

I don't by any means want this. This was not my doing and I really don't want to leave.

But I must.

Just know that I have loved every minute we've ever spent together. You've taught me many life lessons that I will forever hold close to my heart. The brief period we dated was the happiest time of my life, and when we broke up, I was overjoyed by the fact that we could remain so close long after it. You're like a little sister to me, Abby. I will always love you, until the end of my days.

With love and highest regard,

Tim.

Another letter added to the first...

Dear Ziva,

How do I write this, Zee? How do I tell you this gently enough so you don't come after me with a paperclip? I don't suppose there is an easy way, so I guess I will just outright say it.

I'm leaving NCIS.

I don't want to. I really don't want to, but I have to.

Ziva, when you joined the team, I know and you know that not everyone was particularly happy about it. But just so you know, I harbored no bitterness, alright?

I knew you were not involved with Kate's death, not directly anyway, and that it wasn't your fault we were grieving, therefore you shouldn't have paid the price for it.

You've always been supportive of me, and there for me when Tony or Gibbs seemed to fail to do so, and I thank you for that.

I have grown closer to you in quicker than I have anyone in NCIS. Quicker than Gibbs, Tony, Ducky or even Abby.

I hold you at the highest respect, Ziva, and it's not just because my parents raised a gentleman.

I'll never forget all of the car rides we shared to and from work, and all of the good times we had throughout the years.

Always,

McGee.

And another...

Dear Ducky,

Boy, this is not an easy letter to write, Duck. Over the years, you've been the only one to ever really truly accepted me as an agent, in the field or otherwise and I am so grateful for that.

As of today, I will no longer be working at NCIS.

Since I started on Gibbs' team, you've always had a story for everything.

Forever the entertainer, aren't you Ducky?

I'll miss your re-tellings of your days as a 'lad' in Scotland, and your time in the military, and your early years as an M.E. I'll miss it all, and I just want to let you know that I'd stay around to hear any story you'd want to tell if I could.

But like I said, I can't.

Best wishes, Ducky,

Timothy

Only three more...

Jimmy,

Well, Jimmy, where do I start? I suppose I don't truly know you that well, and I will forever regret not getting to know you better.

I say this because I am leaving NCIS, as of today.

I know you don't like being called Jim, and that you used to be scared of me because I yelled at you, what was it?

Six years ago?

I don't think I ever apologized for that, so I'm sorry.

But beyond that, I don't truly know you.

I suppose now is a good a time as any to admit to you that I did in fact base Pimmy Jalmer in my books off of you, but I want you to know that every story line within the book was fiction and I do know that you are not a necrophiliac.

I think highly of you, Jimmy, and I'm sorry I never told you that before now.

Sincerely,

McGee.

McGee sighed and looked over at his clock. It was 0300 hours, and he'd already been at this for two hours.

Only two more to go...

Hey Tony,

I was going to start this letter with 'dear Tony,' but I figured that might sound a little strange.

Like I was with Ziva, I suppose I must be blunt as I tell you this news.

I'm leaving NCIS.

I would do anything to be able to stay; to continue 'fighting crime' with my team, but I cannot.

There are so many things I want to say to you, Tony.

I hate you, but you were my hero once and still are.

I can't stand being around you sometimes, but I'm forever grateful for how much you've taught me in life, and in the field.

You're like the brother I never had Tony, and I cannot think of a better person to fill that role. When I first met you, and you made me call you 'sir', I admit I wanted to strangle you.

But you humbled me, Tony, and since then you've shown me that I can't always rely on my 'smarts' to get by, and that sometimes feeling your way around is a good thing.

I will never forget you, Tony, and because I can't seem to come up with a salutation that fits, I'm just going to end this letter with this:

I love you, Man.

Tim 'McGeek, Probie, Mc-whatever' McGee.

McGee felt the tears spilling from his eyes, but he made no attempt to wipe them away.

He knew this was going to be hard.

He knew it this would be the most excruciating thing he would ever have to do.

But he never dreamed it would be this bad.

"Last one, McGee." He whispered to himself as he put another piece of paper in the typewriter. "Last one."

Gibbs,

By now, you might have already figured out that I'm leaving NCIS. You might even have known before I did, really.

Trust me when I say I don't want this. I fully expected to last much longer in the agency, but this is completely out of my hands. I couldn't tell any of the others this, Gibbs. I couldn't handle it, even though I wasn't really the one who would have to 'handle' it. I'm dying, Boss.

Remember when I took that month long leave a few months ago?

I told you it was because my mother was sick, but it was because I was in Chicago, seeing a neurologist there.

I have an inoperable, untreatable, malignant brain tumor. It is too close to my pituitary gland to cut out, and my body is rejecting chemotherapy and radiation isn't shrinking it.

My doctor told me then that I have six months, at the most, so that is why I'm leaving.

I'm going home to spend my last days with my family. Once I'm gone, I would be honored for you all to attend my funeral

If you could please tell the team, it would be greatly appreciated.

Gibbs, I can't even begin to tell you how much you've shown me. You taught me to trust my gut and to believe in myself, and because of that I made it to where I am today.

I'm going to miss you all so much, and I won't ever forget everything we've been through.

Cordially,

Tim.

P.S. Jethro could use a good home, and I'm sure he'd fit right in with you, if you'd want.

McGee sighed and carefully put that letter with the others. The clock now read almost 0400 hours, and if he wanted to deliver these he'd better get going.

He separated the letters and put each of them in individual envelopes and then set them in a stack on his desk.

After getting dressed, feeding Jethro and gathering the letters and his keys, he headed out the door and to his car.

He reached NCIS in relatively good time, pulling into the parking lot around 0445 hours.

The sky was still completely dark as he entered the building, showing his ID to the sleepy security guard and getting on the elevator.

He fingered the letters in his hands as the elevator slowly rose three floors, seemingly taking forever before the doors 'dinged' open. He walked into the darkened squadroom, looking around forlornly.

He would be leaving all of this soon.

After nearly eight years, it would all be...Gone.

Memories danced through his mind. Him and Kate and Tony bickering while Gibbs watched them, irritated, before head-slapping Tony and reprimanding him and Kate.

Then once Ziva came, things were nearly the same, though head-slaps were delivered all around.

He had done so much here, and it hurt so much to have to leave it.

But like he told everyone in their had no choice.

He carefully laid the envelopes on Tony's, Ziva's and Gibbs' desks, lingering on each of them before slowly going toward the stairs that lead to the Director's office.

All of the lights were off and Cynthia's desk was obviously empty. As the Director's door would be locked, McGee laid his letter of resignation on Cynthia's desk, and turned to leave.

An elevator ride down to autopsy had him laying Ducky's and Jimmy's letters on each of their desks, respectively.

Another elevator ride brought him to Abby's lab and another painful letter drop.

He sat it against her keyboard and stared at it a moment.

Why did this happen to him? Wasn't he, as a federal agent, supposed to go out valiantly in a hail of bullets or something? Or perhaps in an explosion, but only after he saved the lives of many people, right?

Even a car accident in which McGee puts his own car in between the reckless driver that started the wreck and a mini van full of children.

Right?

Not wither away in his last months of life with a brain tumor he had no power over.

The letters were delivered, and his life at NCIS was official over, and he exited the building slowly, savoring every last moment.

It had come down to this.

Him walking through Willard Park, alone, a tumor in his brain that was killing him, and the night sky casting an eerie glow over the ground.

As he again thought of all the memories he had, he realized something.

Nothing in the world could ever compare to his times here at NCIS.

He'd made lifelong companions, and it just so happened his life was near gone.

And he could live with that, he realized. He'd had a full and successful life, and while he wished with all his heart that it could continue just a little bit longer, he was ready to accept that everyone dies some time.

In the wise words of Mrs. Gump, "dying is a part of life."

McGee inhaled deeply, and let the breath out slowly. He knew he had to get going, he had a plane to catch.

And besides, the sun would be rising soon.