I've been wanting to write this for a while now. I decided to do something different, so I wrote this. In this story, Kate is still alive, and Ziva is there, and Tim is five. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS

Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked at the crime scene before him and felt his heart drop. The house that once stood there had been reduced to a pile of ash and embers and smoke and flame. Ziva and Tony and Kate all felt the same way; the family that lived here had three children. But it stung Gibbs more. He'd known the McGees quite well. Although they hadn't spoken in almost six years, he and James McGee had been very good friends.

The firemen put out the last of the flames, and the embers had gone black. Now they could search for the bodies of the McGees. It was so sad, but a job that had to be done. Gibbs had no idea how this had happened, who had done it, or why, but he was determined to find out.

There was a fair amount of ground to cover, so Ducky and Jimmy recruited Ziva and Tony to help them search for the McGees. Gibbs had Kate asking the neighbors about the fire, or the explosion, or whatever had happened. It wasn't long before they had all six members of the family. The oldest, grandpa Leo McGee, seemed to have died in the most piece. He never knew what hit him. The father, James McGee, had taken the worst of it. From the looks of it, he'd tried to save his wife and kids. Melissa McGee, the mother, was eight months pregnant it seemed. She had died in attempt to protect her children. Anthony McGee was the oldest of the three children. He was fourteen years old. The worst of his burns had been on his back. He must have been trying to shield his sister from the blast. Twins, ten year old Isabel and Anibel McGee were hunkered down in what had looked to be the remnants of a closet. Poor girls. Must have opened the door to let her brother in, and then…

Kate stared in horror at the bodies laid out in the front of the smoking ash. Gibbs wrapped his arm around her.

"It never gets any easier, does it?" She asked. Gibbs just shook his head. "It's just… they're so little…"

Suddenly, Ziva's voice rang out. "Gibbs!" She called, and ran over to them. "Gibbs, the McGee's didn't have three children, they had four. Anthony, Isabel, Anibel, and Timothy,"

"One of them is missing?" Gibbs asked.

"Jethro! Come here, quickly!" Ducky called. Gibbs sprinted over to where Ducky stood. He and Jimmy crouched over a black and smoking board. Jimmy slowly lifted it up.

Underneath, a small, five-year old boy lay curled in a tight ball. His golden brown hair was smoking, and his eyes were shut tight. His face was covered in dirt and ash and burns, and tense with pain. His chest lay still.

"Is… is he alive?" Tony asked hesitantly.

For several moments, no one moved. Tony's question was answered when the boy took in a shallow, ragged breath and coughed, cringing ever so slightly.

"Is he going to live, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

Ducky examined the boy. "Jethro, he's got severe burns and several broken bones. He needs medical attention, and quick,"

Gibbs nodded. "Ziver, call an ambulance," He ordered.

Ziva nodded and was off.

Ducky moved the hair out of the young boy's face. "Hang in there, young Timothy. Help will arrive soon."

Like it? Hate it? Let me know! Should I continue? If I do, Tate or Tiva?