Hey guys

Hey guys! I just got inspired to do an angst fic. It might become Tim/Tony, I'm not sure yet. Since this is my first NCIS fic, I don't believe any of you will have read my style before (or at least, the chances are slim). I must warn you that even if it is a very depressing, dramatic story, I will still have humour in it. I also switch from first person to third… and a bit of second. I do denote the changes though, so it shouldn't be too confusing. I also keep it consistent with each character; Abby will stay in third the entire story, for example. I just don't like writing her in the first; it sounds weird.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS. If I did, Tony and McGee would so be together.

Chapter one


The sunbeam practically hit her face like a sledgehammer. Abby bolted upright with narrowed eyes, a predatory manner denoting her search for a culprit. However, in the land of wakefulness, light cannot hit you, and so she realized she was being illogical. She wanted a Caf-POW! to rid the remnants of slumber, but decided that the POW! bit would remind her too much of her traumatic waking. So she made do with a thermos of cocoa (incredibly viscous, of course).

The drive was mostly uneventful. Abby soon arrived at her favourite place, without even having to speed as her fellow coworkers did (Ziva). She bounced merrily in, because well, how could one be unhappy with loads of sugar and being in the same vicinity as one as great as Leroy Jethro Gibbs?

Although, Gibbs wasn't in her lab at the moment. She would see him later though, even if there wasn't a case she would make an excuse. She needed her Gibbs intake! But perhaps seeing Gibbs today wouldn't be such a bad thing. The young Goth's day was going so great already.

Only it would be better if McGee had hung out with her on the weekend. Not being one to pry, she didn't search his apartment, but she did call approximately 14 times at home, and 37 times on his cell. Why did stupid McGee turn his phone off? There were only so many messages his voicemail box could hold! Well, she'd lecture him today sometime; right now she had work to do.

She cranked the tunes and swayed away.


Dammit, where was probie? He was half an hour late, which is really unusual. I mean, I don't think his sister was accused of killing anyone lately; I could be wrong. She was pretty hot for someone related to McGeek. Maybe she's adopted. Then I could go out with her and probie couldn't do anything… wait, maybe being adopted counts. I guess I should ask Abby if they are related. Abby's got a really hot tattoo. It's this girl twined around a pole and-

WHACK. "Dinozzo!"

"Ow Boss, what was that for?" I whined, rubbing the back of my head. Well, it wasn't really a whine. It was a manly complaining…ness. Ha, McGrammer can't correct my English because he can't get in my head!

"That was for thinking dirty thoughts. You're at work Dinozzo, you should know better." Though I must say, Gibbs comes so close to mind-reading, it's scary.

"How do you do that Boss?" I asked in awe. He grinned a little, but it faded instantly when he looked at Probie's empty desk.

"Where's McGee?" he asked. Though he sounded commanding, like it was only his job to make sure everyone was there on time to do their job, I knew he was worried. Sometimes, I think my teammates forget that underneath that tough marine mask lies a compassionate and empathetic person; who'll kick your ass if you mess with the people he cares about.

"I actually was thinking the same thing myself. It's unusual for Probalicious to be even a minute late."

"For whom to be late?" Asked a slightly Israeli accented voice. "I was not aware of someone on our team with that name." A slight smirk graced the features of one Ziva David, the craziest woman I have ever met. Besides McGirl.

I grin. "Unlike some people, who show up three hours late… after lunch!"

She scowled. "You know full well I had a meeting Tony. And you did not answer my question." She looked over at the person-less desk. "Where… oh I see, you were referring to McGee! Why did you not say so?" The expression on her face was quite accusatory.

"Why Zee-vah, I did mention Probie… just it was a nickname. I've only altered it like, a hundred times before for you to get it."

A roll of eyes. "Yes Tony, anything with any part of the word "delicious" in it could refer to McGee." Something dawned on her, and she smiled suggestively. "Well, Tony, do you think McGee is-"

"Don't finish that sentence Ziva." Gibbs grimaced. "Look, just tell me where the hell he is."

"Dunno Boss. Maybe he went to an MMORPG convention." I chuckled at my cleverness.

"Ziva, you got an intelligent answer?"

"To be fair Gibbs, that actually was a reasonable response. After all, he does seem to have an unhealthy obsession with computer games." She acquiesced under his gaze. "Perhaps we could simply call him and ask?" and again "Or I could actually do that." She whipped out her cell phone and hit speed dial.

"Oh yeah, you might want to check your email Boss. He might have even told you he had a dentist appointment or something, completely ignoring the fact that you're technologically illiterate- I mean, um…"

Luckily Ziva saved me. "It's going straight to voicemail. He must have it turned off."

We all frowned collectively. "He's practically got wires coming out of him he's so connected to electronics." I state slowly. "Why would he turn it off?"

Gibbs picked up the phone and punched some numbers. He perked up, than held the phone away from his ear and winced. The innocent phone was then forcibly placed back on its cradle. I felt for Gibb's electronics; they suffered at his uncaring hands.

Oh my god, my worry for McGee is turning me into some sort of weirdo nerd.

"That was McGee's sister. She's in class and perfectly fine." He absently rubbed his damaged ear.

"Hence the sound bite. Alright, I guess we should put out a BOLO." Gibbs nodded assent.

"Do it." I ignored Ziva's indignant hissed rant at the other end of the squad room. She couldn't complain we didn't worry if she didn't show up; if we did, we'd all be walking mental cases, since she does it almost every day. Probster was a different story.

The BOLO out, all we could do was wait, gazing at the light streaming in through the windows.


can't get a hold of the leads that I need
there is no end to the streets I'm on my knees
and I wish some day things will get better
I've been trapped in this black hole for too long
can't understand a word of what you say
I never bother to listen anyway
and I know some day things will get better
I've been trapped in this black hole for too long
trapped in I've been trapped in I'm furious over the state I'm in

I can't really bob my head to this music, but I listen intently. It's a song that I heard when I was at one of Abby's friend's parties. I don't usually listen to punk, but I really liked it. I can really relate to the song.

Can't get a hold of the leads that I need

I don't think the song is talking about working a case, but lately I feel like I can't do anything right. All the leads I follow end up dead, if I even find any to begin with. If Gibbs asks me what my problem is one more time, I'm gonna go crazy(er).

There is no end to the streets I'm on my knees

I think I passed knees and went straight to crawling a while ago. I barely make it through each day.

And I wish some day things will get better

All I can do is wish. I keep hoping someone will see that I'm hurting so bad. Or that these feelings of despair will dissipate and I can live again.

I've been trapped in this black hole for too long

It's been a year. My whole life I've felt like this at points, but never this bad; never perpetually.

Can't understand a word of what you say

I don't get how everyone can be so happy when I'm so miserable. Can't they see how bad life is?

I never bother to listen anyway

You don't notice; it's kind of funny how I can tune out and you just keep blabbing like life matters.

And I know some day things will get better

Exactly. Things can't be like this forever. I'd kill myself before long, and that won't happen.

I've been trapped in this black hole for too long

I feel so helpless… like some cosmic power has a bear trap of pain around my soul. It tightly clamps down and destroys my happiness, and rips my core to shreds. I cannot fight like this.

Trapped in I've been trapped in I'm furious over the state I'm in

The rare occasions I do feel something other than pain and nothing are when I'm angry. I think it's ironic that the song is talking about a state of being, while I'm actually angry at myself for crossing the border three states away. I shouldn't run. I shouldn't turn back on my job, or my friends. But I want to handle this myself. They all treat me like some little kid, and if I tell them, it will only get worse. Maybe by overcoming this myself, I can prove my mettle.

I can only hope it doesn't kill me.


Heh… that was kind of disjointed. Sorry guys, that's what reading Salman Rushdie does to you. The song was "Trapped In" by Division of Laura Lee. Funnily enough, I just listened to it today for content, and I realized it would be a perfect, non cliché song for this fic. If you listen to it, you will get a better feel for the story.

If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. I know this is kind of confusing, but it will make more sense in later chapters.

Have a great day everyone!