Title: Pack Bound
Characters: Tim and the team

Genre: Supernatural
Rating: FR15

Crossover: The Mercy Thompson Novels

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: "I had never told my team that I was a werewolf. Before the Marrok had revealed the werewolf's existence last year it had been because of the rules forbidding regular humans the knowledge. But now that we were out, it was just because I was scared."

Author's Note: I'm trying my best to be sure that even if you haven't read Mercy Thompson series the story is understandable, since this is mainly an NCIS story. I will probably include a few characters from the original story, but not many, just the setting. This story takes place somewhere during season 7, in the middle somewhere, before the Reynosa cartel stars stirring the shit.

Reviews are always appreciated.

Pack Bound


I was a child when the lesser fae were revealed to the public by the Gray Lords. I can vaguely remember sitting on the couch with my mother watching the trial of Kieran McBride, a gardener accused of murdering his elderly billionaire employer with a pair of garden shears. When the prosecution had finally been goaded into asking Kieran to hold the shears he had taken them; and promptly dropped them as his hands began to smoke and blister. My mother and I leaned forward on the couch, holding our breath with the rest of the watching world as Kieran showed his mangled hands to the jury. Then on a cue from his lawyers he dropped his glamour that hid his true appearance from the human eye.

That had been the first time that real magic was ever revealed to the public, in the most public way possible, live television. And I had learned later it had all been planned to work to the fae's advantage. Fearing that they couldn't hide their presence in the new age of cold iron, technology and forensic sciences the masters of the fae, the Gray Lords, had forced the weakest and most attractive into the public eye.

For a short while people had been enamored with the magical beings. I could remember going to the theaters to watch a new version of Peter Pan starring a real pixie and a boy who could really fly. But inevitably people began to remember the older fairy tales, where the fae weren't always nice and friendly. Hatred and fear forced most of the revealed fae into living in four large reservations spread across the United States. It had been that way for nearly three decades now. People began wondering about other supernatural beings of old stories. Werewolves and Vampires were sought for by foolish humans, but other than the fae, no more supernatural beings stepped into the lime light.

Not until last year that is.

It was only a matter of time after all. Werewolves are much harder to hide than the fae. Or rather, the aftermath of werewolves is harder to hide. For the most part werewolves are controlled by the packs and the packs are controlled by the Alpha wolf in charge. In charge of all of the packs and all of the Alpha's is the Marrok.

No one is really certain how old the Marrok is, I've heard rumors that he came to the United States from Wales in 1800's with a Welsh fur trapper and map maker. It's believed that he is far older than that. But I've also heard rumors that he is omniscient and an all powerful mega-wolf so I'm not sure I should pay too much attention to the rumors, I've never met him myself. The Marrok and his pack live in Montana, much further west than I've ever traveled.

Of course I discovered the world of werewolves much earlier than the rest of the world. I know that they aren't all the military heroes that the Marrok uses as poster boys. If it could have been possible I would have preferred to stay in the dark, but I guess that would have meant that I'd have died fifteen years ago. Although sometimes, when life really sucks I can't help but think that wouldn't have been such a bad thing.

Becoming a werewolf isn't so simple as being bitten. No, to become a werewolf a person has to be mauled so thoroughly that they are left an inch from death. The bodies immune system rejects the wolfs magic and it has to be completely torn down for the magic to slip through and take over. If by some chance the person survives the initial attack they begin to heal, at an amazingly quick rate. They think that the terror of their nightmare is over and for awhile it is, until the full moon rises into the sky and their wolf is called to the surface.

Most of the time people are changed by family members, people who care about them and are there to help them survive. But every now and then a rouge wolf will come around and loose themselves to the madness of the predator inside. Those wolves don't live long. The packs hunt them down and execute them, for the safety of everyone, human and wolf alike. But they leave a trail of destruction in their wake and lots and lots of bodies.

As a celebration for being accepted into MIT and finally getting the cast removed after my crash, my uncle had taken me camping. It was late in the year and the air was beginning to chill, other than us the campground was empty. Our first day out was wonderful, since Dad was deployed at the time I hadn't had a male role model for awhile. Uncle Thomas took me hiking and fishing and we cooked our spoils over the campfire. I remember getting ready for bed, unzipping my sleeping bag. Uncle Thomas heard a noise, he had brought a shotgun with him, to deter bears. I remember him grabbing it, then nothing.

I woke up the neck morning, naked in the county morgue with a tag around my toe. Uncle Thomas was on the table next to me, he didn't wake up.

I think I scared the coroner so bad he wet himself, I was extremely worried when Duck had a similar experience. But he seemed to handle it okay. They wanted to hold me at the hospital after I finished healing two days later, it was miraculous they said. They pestered my mother for our genealogy, kept asking if there was any fae in our blood. I was confused, Mom was confused and grieving, I was discharged against medical advice and we hurried home. The local Alpha and his second were waiting for us when he got there.

Pack hierarchy is determined by how dominant a wolf is. The most dominant of all is the Alpha, he is in a dictator like position, no on in the pack is allowed to go against his will. Some wolves are so dominant that their very presence makes less dominant wolves fall onto their bellies, turning over to expose their vulnerable necks.

After the Alpha the next two wolves that are most dominant become his second and third. The are his right and left hand men, in charge when he is away or incapable. After that the dominance wars continue until you reach the submissive wolves. There aren't many. To survive the change most wolves have to have some amount of dominance in them, they think that the gentle people that would become submissive wolves don't have what it takes. I think that some people just have an extraordinary will to live.

Being a submissive wolf sucks. Everyone in the pack is in a higher position than you. Everyone except the unmated females that is, female werewolves are just about as rare as submissives. Although to be fair when a female takes a mate she takes her position from him, he has a chance to advance in the world, unlike me.

After my attack I had a summer to learn to control the beast inside me. I was accepted into a pack in Massachusetts pack, close to MIT. Worst decision ever made for me, in my life. There were no other submissive wolves in that pack, no unmated females. I was situated at the bottom of the totem pole, submissive to everyone in the pack.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the Alpha in charge was a good Alpha. He would have had control of the others, kept them from playing their dominance games on someone who would never fight back. But he wasn't a good Alpha, he had only taken that position recently because the last Alpha had died in an accident. Not only did he not have control of the pack, he didn't seem to care about our well being. For four years I lived in hell, until the Marrok caught wind of the situation and sent his second, his son Charles, in to clean up the mess.

Charles Cornick was the second most powerful wolf in the United States. He was enforcer and executioner, he was a force to be feared. When he arrived during a pack meeting unexpected there was chaos. Fearing for his position the Alpha had attacked, with his second and third close behind. None of them lasted a minute.

I remember the panic in the room being overwhelming. People began shifting forms against their will as the wolf inside fought for it's survival. Then Charles took control, all by himself, of the remaining fifteen wolves. After everything had calmed down he informed the pack that it was official dissolved and we would all be reassigned to other packs. I was the last to be reassigned by the time Charles reached me, we were the only wolves left.

He had looked at my bruises and frowned at my skittishness. He asked where I planned to go after I graduated from MIT. He promised me that wherever I wanted to go he would find me a pack with and Alpha that would take care of his pack. It's hard for wolves to look more dominant wolves in the eye. They tend to take things like that as a challenge and the instinct to survive is deeply ingrained. That night I looked into Charles eyes and asked him if there was any other option.

Lone wolf.

I had always heard the term. Hell, I'd been called it a few times back in high school! But now that I had been changed it had a new meaning. Lone wolves lived outside of the pack hierarchy. On the bright side I would have no one dominating me on a daily basis. But on the downside, I was alone and the wolf is not a solitary creature.

Charles and I talked for a long time, he told me that he was the go to guy for information on lone wolfing it. He gave me all the facts, straight with no sugar coating. I would be my own boss, do things on my own time. But I would be constantly alone, with no one to comfort me or protect me. The security that a pack ensured would be gone. Although after the previous four years, solitude sounded heavenly.

So I became a lone wolf. I attended Johns Hopkins, after gaining permission from the local pack to live in the area. I constantly had to skirt around their presence, but a predator doesn't enter another predator's territory unless he is looking for trouble. It wasn't difficult to avoid them, it was just more instinct.

As a child I had always wanted to be in law enforcement and now I actually had a chance of making that dream come true. After I had finished at Johns Hopkins I applied at FLETC, werewolves thrived in law enforcement and the military. However I wanted to apply for a position where there would undoubtedly be very few other wolves, NCIS. Naval Criminal Investigative Services. Werewolves didn't to do in the navy. It probably had something to do with the fact that we sink like stones in the water. Our muscle mass is much to heavy and dense for us to swim well.

It was probably a little reckless, but I knew that to be positioned as Agent Afloat they only took volunteers. I didn't doubt that I would have to get on a boat at some point in time, but I would be extremely cautious when that time came. Case Agent at Norfolk hadn't been my first choice of where I would have liked to be placed, I wasn't a field agent, but it wasn't something I would complain about. There was no local pack for miles around Norfolk, I didn't need permission to live there or have to avoid certain locations. It was great, for awhile.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

It was hard to believe that one man could have been the undoing of my perfect lone wolf lifestyle. Let alone a man who was one-hundred percent human! I had heard stories around the office about Gibbs, he was practically a legend to a green probie like me and when he arrived on scene for that first case, he took a perfect position on the pedestal I had built him in my mind.

At first I had wondered, how would these people act towards me if they new what I was? Agent DiNozzo and Agent Todd would probably not have hazed me as much as they did, out of fear that I would eat them. Gibbs though, I never had any doubt that Gibbs wouldn't have changed a thing. At first he had completely ignored my presence. For all that I was a fellow NCIS agent, I was just as stuck in the background as the base MP's. But not for long.

"You'll wanna avoid Captain Veitch. Well, I met him once, before, he can be very…difficult."

I'd never seen a human whip around so fast. For the first time he actually looked at me, got right up in my face and looked me straight in the eye. For a moment I had been afraid, afraid that the my wolf would for once in his life take up a challenge. I didn't want to hurt Agent Gibbs, but I had no doubt that I could have.

"And you don't think, that I can be difficult?"

My eyes had dropped, of their own accord. I had to plant my feet so that I wouldn't drop to the ground. This was a man before me, a man who was one-hundred percent human, and it took every ounce of my being not to just roll over and give him my throat. I had stuttered back a response, barely. They left without me which I was thankful for. I took a quick minute to get my bearings back before I followed them.

After they returned to DC I did something I had never done before. I took the night off and jogged out into the middle of nowhere. After I was sure that I was completely alone I had taken off and hidden my clothes and shifted.

The change isn't quick or easy. Your bones and have to completely reshape themselves. Sometimes it takes as long as fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of pure torture. Fifteen minutes that would go by so much faster if you have a pack shifting with you. When I was finished I shook, sending sandy brown fur flying in all directions trying to get used to my other form. Then I ran, I ran away from civilization, as far as I could get. Eventually I stopped, exhausted. And then I cried.

My howls shook the trees and frightened away all the birds and animals in the area. In the distance I could hear my native cousins cry in sympathy, but they would not approach. No wild animal is stupid enough to approach a werewolf.

I cried for a long time. Before I had never known what it really meant to be part of a pack. When I was first learning the ropes I was only there to learn, I wasn't part of their pack. And when I was part of a pack, I was only a punching bag. I'd never known what a true pack felt like. I had my family sure, they were great and I loved them with all of my heart. But it wasn't the same.

But that day I had gotten a taste of what being in a pack was like. Sure they weren't wolves, Gibbs and his team were as human as it came. But they were a pack, a family and I had never realized until I met them, just what I was missing. So that night I cried my loneliness to the beautiful moon high in the sky and the next morning I arrived at work with a new determination. I would work hard and I would become a member of Gibbs's team.