A Friend in Deed

Genre: Crossover - NCIS/Supernatural, Friendship

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Language, Character Death (canon)

Summary: When a strange attack occurs aboard the Navy Yard, McGee calls an old friend for help. Starts mid-Season 7 for NCIS, mid-Season 5 for Supernatural, with flashbacks to pre-series/earlier seasons for both (not related to A Friend In Need).

Standard Disclaimers apply. If I owned them SPN season 6 would have been way different.

This one is probably xenascully's fault ;)

XXX

"Gear up," ordered Gibbs as he quickly marched to his desk to retrieve his identification and weapon. "We've got a body."

"Let me guess: a Petty Officer in Rock Creek Park," snarked Tony as he grabbed his own weapon from his desk drawer and swung his knapsack over his shoulder.

"No," snapped Gibbs. "Aboard the Barry."

McGee and Ziva glanced at each other in surprise. It wasn't often they could walk to a crime scene. They quickly grabbed their gear and followed the other two members of the team to the elevator.

"Is it an agent?" asked McGee once they were inside.

"Don't know. I was told they're not identifiable, at least not on sight."

"Great…"

After a quick stop at the garage to retrieve the scene kits, they made their way over to the river where the USS Barry was docked. They arrived to find that security was already at the scene, keeping the curious onlookers at bay. When they reached the officer in charge, McGee noticed that he looked rather pale and slightly "green around the gills". The agent felt a slight twinge in his stomach. Just what they needed: another gruesome scene to start off the work week, with the promise of long hours and short tempers in the foreseeable future.

"Where?" asked Gibbs without preamble, and the officers pointed to the deck of the Barry. The team walked up the gangplank to the ship and stopped when they reached the top.

"Yikes," muttered Tony as they took in the tableau before them. They body, most definitely unidentifiable, looked as if it had had a run in with a threshing machine. It was still mostly intact, but the face, arms, hands and torso were essentially shredded.

"It looks like an animal attack," observed Ziva.

"Maybe we should check and see if the local zoos are missing any residents," Tony replied and soon winced as Gibbs' hand connected with the back of his head.

They scanned the area, looking for obvious signs of a four-legged attacker, but other than the body and its associated effluvia there was no immediately discernable evidence that anyone or anything else had been there. They soon retreated to unpack their gear and put on protective clothing and by the time they had completed their task, Ducky and Palmer had arrived with a gurney. The M.E. halted the conversation he had been having with his assistant when he caught sight of the body.

"Good Lord..."

Palmer fell silent as he stared at the mess in shock. "You don't think…a person did this, do you?" he finally managed to ask.

"Not unless it was Jack the Ripper's demented brother," said Tony with an evil grin. "Or maybe a werewolf…Thanks, Boss."

"Perhaps it was someone under the influence of drugs," commented Ziva. "I cannot picture a sane person doing something like this."

None of the group had noticed the blood draining from McGee's face as he listened to their theories. He carefully studied the scene again, looking for something to shed light on what could have attacked the unfortunate victim.

"I just hope whoever it was, they aren't still hanging around," said Tony and McGee flinched. He really hoped so, too.

"Security cleared the place before we got here, DiNozzo."

"Right."

Ducky carefully made his way to the body, followed, reluctantly, by Palmer. He pointed to the victims arms, covered with several long, gaping cuts.

"Those are defensive wounds. He tried to fight off his attacker, even though it was for naught."

"Did anyone hear anything?" asked McGee, finally breaking his silence.

"Not that was reported," Gibbs replied. "When we get done here-"

"-check the security footage. Got it, Boss."

Each of them set about there tasks. McGee took photos while Ziva and Tony collected evidence and Gibbs interviewed the security men who had found the body. Ducky and Palmer readied the body for transport, and by the time they had finished and had it loaded into a body bag and onto the gurney, Gibbs had returned from his interviews. McGee noted that he was in a foul mood and kept his mouth shut, even though he had noticed something quite disturbing: there were no foot prints, human or otherwise, anywhere around the body.

XXX

Back at his desk, McGee carefully went over the security footage from the previous night. The victim's wallet had contained a driver's license for one Gary Hamilton, a retired Petty Officer, and using the picture from the license he had scanned the video for any sign of the man aboard the Yard. Abby was running DNA to confirm the man's identity, since both his face and his fingers had mutilated to the point where visual and scanner ID were impossible.

With a frustrated sigh, McGee loaded yet another DVD and started to search through it. Suddenly something caught his eye and he paused the video. A man who fit Hamilton's picture had entered the frame at a run and he had turned to look over his shoulder. McGee forwarded the video frame by frame until he had a clearer view of the face and then zoomed in, and the image that appeared caused the agent to gasp in surprise. The man was definitely Hamilton, and he was quite obviously terrified.

"Find anything?"

McGee looked up to find his boss looming over him.

"I found Hamilton. Looks like he was running from something."

Gibbs moved around to stand behind McGee as he continued to examine the footage. On the film, they saw Hamilton run towards the Barry, but just as he reached the center of the frame the image cut out.

"What the hell?" McGee reversed the footage and tried again, but the same result occurred. He tried fast-forwarding through and suddenly the image reappeared, but Hamilton was no longer visible. He went back through it, slowly, but he could not get an image of Hamilton or his probable pursuer.

"Damn it! How did that happen, McGee?"

"Some sort of electrical interference? I'm not sure..." They were interrupted by the ringing of Gibbs' phone.

"Yeah, Gibbs. On my way, Duck." He placed the phone back in its cradle. "Let's go. Ducky says he's figured out how our victim died."

McGee followed Gibbs to the elevator where they met Tony and Ziva.

"We interviewed all of the security staff, Boss. No one saw a thing," said Tony when Gibbs and McGee joined them. "Where are we going?"

"To see Ducky."

"Oh."

As soon as the group arrived at Autopsy they saw the body, now free of it's covering of blood and shredded clothing, laid out on one of the steel tables. The wounds were no less horrifying but now they could see the actual number of cuts that had been made. McGee shuddered inwardly. He could almost imagine what Hamilton's last few moments had been like, and wished he couldn't.

"What do ya got for me, Duck?" asked Gibbs in his normal abrupt manner.

"A puzzle, Jethro, one that may be a bit more challenging than we expected."

"I thought you said you knew how he died?"

"Well, yes, I have been able to determine the cause of death."

"Don't tell me it was blood loss."

The M.E. gave Gibbs a sardonic grin. "No doubt exsanguination contributed to his condition, but it does not appear to have been the final cause." He pointed to the gaping wound in the man's torso. "It appears that massive organ failure, of one in particular, is to blame."

"He died of a heart attack?"

"Well, no, not in the normal sense. The heart itself appears to have burst."

"How the hell did that happen?" asked Tony, disgust apparent in his voice.

"Now that I do not know, but I have been able determine that it did indeed happen."

"What about the rest of the wounds?" asked Ziva. She had not managed to focus on the body for very long and was studying Ducky instead.

"Ah. It appears those were caused by an animal. The cuts themselves were made with a short, thick, pointed object, rather than a thing blade, and are quite jagged. For all appearances, they are consistent with mauling, say, by a large canid."

"A dog attack?"

"Yes, that is most likely, especially since there are no wolves in this area."

"What kind of dog?"

"I'm good, Jethro, but I'm not that good. Something with enough jaw strength to exert approximately one thousand pounds per square inch or higher."

"Narrows it down a little."

"Indeed. There is, however, one very odd thing. I did not recover any hair, or find any evidence of saliva in the wounds."

"So…someone staged it to look like a dog attack? How?"

"I'm afraid that is beyond my area of expertise. All I can tell you is that whatever was used, it was tooth-shaped, and wielded by someone who is extremely powerful or, more likely, had some sort of mechanical assistance."

"That's…"

"Hinky?" supplied Ziva. "Why would someone go to all of that trouble?"

"That's what you're going to find out. Tony, Ziva, start checking Hamilton's records, see if he had any enemies."

"Yes, Gibbs."

"Yes, Boss."

"McGee, get back to that footage. Let's hope at least one of the cameras caught something."

"On it, Boss." The group turned to stare at McGee, shocked at his subdued tone.

"Is there a problem, McGee?"

"No, Boss. I…I better get started." He turned and hurried out of Autopsy as he tried to give the impression that he was concerned with getting back to work. He headed for the stairs and as soon as the door to the stairwell was shut, he stopped and leaned against it in an effort to calm his racing heart. He had developed an instinct of his own over the years, starting before he even began working at NCIS, and he knew that they were going to need some extra help with this case. He had hoped that he would never need that kind of help on the job, but it looked like his luck had run out.

He ascended one flight of stairs and paused to listen. No one was following him, and he prayed for just a few moments of privacy to make one phone call.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number that he had committed to memory many years ago. He had checked periodically to make sure it was still in service in case he ever needed to call. He just hoped this time someone would actually answer.

He took a deep breath and initiated the call. It rang several times, and he was prepared to leave a voice message when a rough, yet unfamiliar voice answered.

"Yeah?"

After a taking a brief moment to recover from the shock of hearing a live voice on the other end of the line, McGee spoke.

"My name is Tim. I need to speak to John Winchester."

TBC…

Thoughts? Comments?