Way to Kill

An NCIS/Supernatural Crossover fanfic.

Disclaimer: Not intended for money making, copyright breaking, or world domination purposes.

Notes: Kate's still alive, Palmer's the ME Assistant... Sam's away at Stanford... etc etc.

Part 13.

Duct tape, paper clips and chewing gum. Anything else: unnecessary.

Four hours.

It had taken four god-damn hours to finish shopping.

Oh, not because they weren't sure exactly what to get, or because the items and ingredients they needed were rare or hard to find.

But because Abby Sciuto,eccentric that she is, had to ask questions about every freakin' thing in every freakin' shop. He'd never known there were so many occult stores, and he was pretty sure he never wanted to step foot in one again. He'd even heard DiNozzo if there was a way to psychologically un-see something, which had gotten a chuckle out of the older man.

They managed to get everything they needed- some things, they had been required to go to more than one store, not because they couldn't get it there, but because there wasn't enough.

Vaguely Dean wondered how the place was going to smell, and if it would be anything like that time their dad had taken them to a park camping and the guy in a tent site over from them had been using weed, but burning hay to 'disguise' the smell.

One thing he knew for sure: he was so glad he wouldn't need to be part of the clean up crew. For once, they could pin the mess some obscure ritual required on someone else. DiNozzo grumbled about making them stay to help with the evidence until Kate pointed out that it would be a 'gross breach of protocol' and if Dean didn't wipe the smug look on his face off right now, she would.

"Deeeaaaan. I said I was sorry!"

When Abby's latest plea was met with another glower and an increase in walking speed, the gothic woman humphed and kept walking alongside Gibbs and Tony, both of whom, along with Kate and everyone except Dean were smiling slightly.

Finally, someone who didn't cave to Abby's puppy eyes.

Granted, Ducky thought, young Abigail had put the poor fellow through his paces, asking questions incessantly, much akin to a small child at the 'why' stage. Ah well, they were finished their 'shopping mission' now, and Ducky was looking forward to this whole case being over and done with- he only hoped this 'Bobby's' idea that the corporeal body of Marchosias would indeed have left trace evidence they could match to each crime scene, and that the body itself would remain once the demon was dealt with.

If it didn't... Well, he shuddered to think of the paperwork. Or Gibbs' attitude when he would be forced to leave a case somewhat open.

Yes, Ducky was well and truly looking forward to the end of this case, though he would be sad to see Dean go. Such an entertaining young man, despite his troubling life and inclination towards reckless actions. He had enough reckless men in his circle of friends to look out for and lecture, after all.

Caleb and Dean spent the night checking that the agents knew what to do, and cleaning, sharpening and priming all their weapons. Of course, Caleb also had to memorise the exorcism. Normally, he would be more than keen to let Dean (or any other hunter) deal with that part, but with Dean's voice still not being totally clear, with being slightly sick still, the two men had decided they didn't want to take any risks in taking this demon down for good (or at least a few more millenia in Hell, cursing their existence).

"You ready?"

Caleb looked up at the younger man's question, to find everyone (well, the NCIS agents, at any rate) standing around in Gibbs' living room, each holding their own backpack, which he knew contained everything any of them would need. Ducky, Abby and Palmer had not been involved in the evening's prep, as they needed to be able to be called into work after Gibbs and the team apprehended the 'criminal' after a hot lead came in that night.

Or, you know, whatever they thought of once Dean and Caleb's part of the case-hunt was over and done with.

Caleb was so glad he wasn't having to stick around for the paperwork.

Grinning, he answered his young friend.

"Let's do this"

Sitting in a car, waiting for someone else to finish his job had never been Gibbs' idea of a good plan. However, he recognised the risk that demanding to be actively involved in this part of the case (or hunt, as Caleb and Dean called their 'jobs') would be even worse. He'd seen first hand, during the poltergeist-ghost-whatever deal, the kind of consequences that could (and would) face Dean and Caleb if they were there.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

So here he sat, cooped up in a car with his team, each of them with their sigs and backpacks (filled with spare clips, holy water and a herbal bag each... and M&M's in DiNozzo's case) at the ready for their part.

"DiNozzo, stop it"

"Stop what?"

"You know what, cut the crap Tony!"

Kate's indignant growl, mixed with Tony's amused come backs soon filled the car.


Briefly, the former marine wondered if this was what it was like to be a knidgergarten teacher.

If it was, he'd shoot himself in the foot with his own gun before he became one.

"Both of you! Shut the hell up, sit there quietly, or so help me, you'll be filing the whole team's reports for the next two months! And DiNozzo- stop throwing M&M's in Todd's hair. The next one that lands anywhere but your mouth will be the last!"


Gibbs sipped at his thermo-cup of coffee.

This, is how stakeouts and observation and (if he had to) waiting should be.


They'd been sitting in the car for three hours when Gibbs' phone went off, an exhausted sounding Dean on the other end.

"Uh, you can come in now" the younger man stated gruffly, noises in the background implying that things maybe hadn't gone quite as easy as they'd hoped.

"You might wanna tell Ducky to bring some of those crime scene booties"

Gibbs sighed. Unlike DiNozzo, he couldnt' tell if Winchester was serious or not. And there had been a lot of messy crap bought that afternoon. Well, he'd leave it to the kid to wave in Duck, then. For all that the young hunter was obviously a bit of a joker, he'd seen the way he talked to Ducky, and knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to pull a sly one on him.

"Alright, Winchester, start packing up"

Signalling to the two in the car with him, and telling Kate to dial McGee to bring the NCIS evidence truck around, he stepped out of the sedan.

The scene that awaited the NCIS team in the Camiere's house (well, his grandmother's house) was nothing like Kate had ever seen. Camiere was there in the living room, tied to a chair, which is where he'd apparently been since the beginning of the ritual- almost four hours ago, now. Caleb was leaning up against the wall, looking around him as if he wasn't in the middle of a very weird (and totally creepy) crime scene.

Chicken blood (apparently not a cliché) was sitting in six bowls (pewter in make) that were evenly spaced around a white circle, which now contained the body- no, 'vessel', according to the older hunter, Kate thought to herself, of Marchosias.

A demon.

From Hell.

And the two men in front of her had disposed of it with chicken blood, crime scene chalk, and kitchen herbs.

Oh, and magic words.

Okay, so maybe Kate wasn't as ready to have her faith tested as she thought.

She may even need to call her sister in a professional manner after she sorted through all this in her head.

McGee looked like a mix between pale and excited as he gazed around the crime scene. Ok, the creepy dead guy who looked a little familiar wasn't great, neither was the young-ish man (Camiere) that Dean and/or Caleb had apparently tied to the chair and then duct taped his mouth shut (which, judging from the glares they were getting was probably a good idea) but everything else... Well, for once, he agreed with Tony- it really was like a scene from a movie.


After Gibbs and Kate (who looked kinda pale, Dean thought) had taken his official statement (Caleb didn't need to give one, as he wasn't technically involved, which he was rather happy about), Dean waited around picking up the last of their things from the ritual. It had been a tiring, gruelling experience- in reality, the ritual wasn't overly complicated, and the exorcism wasn't as long as the standard ones, even, but it seemed to wear on the two men more than any other hunt they'd been involved with. Dean blamed the fact that the body Marchosias had created was totally creeping him out.

No one should look like that, not even a fake-demon made human body thing. He was kinda glad it didn't just disappear into demon-smoke or dust or something, though.

It made leaving the hunt- and the NCIS team's case reports- a lot easier to sort out and deal with.

Between ex-demon-body and Camiere (the stupid, stupid idiot, who knew some very interesting if not disturbing and possibly physically impossible suggestions), they would probably find it quite easy to wrap up.

Caleb and he had done the heavy lifting, after all.

And damn it, after this, he was taking his baby, finding somewhere out of the way with a good bed and crashing.

Caleb saw his friend rub at his eyes tiredly. he knew that everything would catch up with him after the rush that a hunt always brought ended, and he wanted to at least see him safely somewhere, if the kid wouldn't come back to his place for a while.

Especially since he knew no one, save maybe Bobby (who was busy organising Jim's affairs, a sad and sorry thing that it was, as he'd been a good hunter, but an even better friend, and a damn good priest to his parish) would be checking on him anytime soon.

Gibbs looked around him as DiNozzo happy-snapped, raising the morbid feel of the room with his quips and movie references, as was his manner, and couldn't find himself to be annoyed at his SIC's behaviour. Kate was standing in the doorway, evidence bag hanging limply in her hand, pale in the fluorescent light, swallowing as she took in the scene, one that really did look like it was out of a movie. He sighed (something, he noticed, that he'd been doing more often, ever since this case had been dumped on them). At least one good thing came out of it- he'd be able to rub their success in Tobias' face, as NCIS once again solved a case the FBI couldn't.


Gibbs looked up at the younger man who'd just broken the relative quiet of the crime scene.

"So" he replied, steady blue eyes locking with tired green ones.

"What do you want me to do?"

"You two packed up everything you touched?"


"Then I want you to take it, put it in Caleb's car, and wait outside for Ducky. You can leave once he arrives. I'll call you if we need another statement" Gibbs stated firmly.

Dean looked worried for a moment, then nodded, following Caleb (who finally pushed himself off the wall and picked up the two black duffels at his feet) outside, calling over his shoulder"I really wouldn't recommend taking the duct tape off. That dude has one serious case of potty mouth. His grandmother would be ashamed!" and with a short laugh, the younger man pushed the partially open front door aside, following his friend outside in the cool night air. Gibbs briefly wondered if or how long it would be before he heard from the young man again. He'd pulled him aside before they left for the ritual, quietly letting him know his door was open, should he need it, and though the younger man's green eyes had looked a little wary of the offer, grattitude had also been clear in the (so not) slightly choked voice.

Not for the first time, Gibbs had wondered if he'd like or hate the boy's father, should they ever meet. there was no doubt the kid had been trained well, sure, but he wasn't sure that he liked the glimpses of the fathering side he'd seen in the kid were something he could accept.

Not much later, Ducky's van pulled up outside, the older gentleman grumbling as usual about his assistant's lack of directional skill, as the pair pulled out the body bag on its usual trolley, and headed for the house.

"Oh my"

The unseeing eyes of Marchosias' vessel-body stared out blankly as Ducky kneeled down beside the corpse, unable to feel the connection he usually did with the deceased.

"Young Mr Winchester was correct, indeed" the doctor stated, snapping his gloves to ensure they were on correctly, and had no bubbles or wrinkles.

"What about, Duck?" the younger voice of Tony called as he continued photographing the scene.

"He really does look a little like Elvis."

It was mid morning by the time Gibbs could let his team - and himself- go home. With the evidence collected and logged awaiting Abby's eager examination, the bodies- and Camiere - taken to NCIS headquarters (one to the morgue, the other to interrogation), Dean's statement logged and their preliminary notes for their reports completed, Gibbs felt they deserved a few hours sleep in their own beds.

Of course, they had orders to be back at work later that afternoon, for a couple of hours. But no one ever said he wasn't a bit of a bastard.

Returning to his home, he found a loose piece of notepaper on his kitchen table, with a phone number, different to the one he'd used for Dean during the case, an email address and PO Box number in South Dakota.

"So long, Winchester."

Tucking the note into his pocket, he headed upstairs to catch some sleep.

After all, even he couldn't live on cases, sawdust and bourbon.

AN: Finally.