A/N: Just as a friendly warning. This is a totally AU story...and it's new territory for me. I've taken the NCIS characters and put them in 1968 Vietnam. This idea sprang out of a desire to do something about the Vietnam War after playing and singing "Goodnight Saigon" by Billy Joel. As of right now, it's not quite finished, but with my one chapter per day pattern, that gives me a month to finish it, and I'm almost done. :) I am not an expert on the Vietnam War. I'm a medieval and ancient historian, but I've done my best to get the dates right and some of the details. I hope that anyone who does have experience in Vietnam is not offended by any errors. I have a lot of respect for those who serve in the military, and I do not want to cause anyone pain by getting something horribly wrong. I am aware that the language I'm using is not as...authentic, but I don't swear and I'm not willing to start just for fanfiction. :)

I hope you'll all give me some leeway in this experimental AU. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, the characters or "Goodnight Saigon" by Billy Joel. I'm not making any money off this story.


We Would All Go Down Together
by Enthusiastic Fish

Chapter 1

"You're getting a new guy tomorrow, Gunny."

Gibbs looked up at the voice and sighed. A new guy. It seemed like they were all new guys. And as soon as one fell, another got put in his place. Pacci had died last week. Everyone in the platoon knew he'd be replaced. Now, here was Major Morrow telling him that the replacement was on his way.

"When did he get here?" Gibbs asked. "Last week?"

"Last year."

That got Gibbs' attention. He straightened and actually gave Morrow the benefit of his attention.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I thought that would interest you."

"What do you mean? Sir?"

"I mean that he's already been here for a year. His first battle was at Hill 881."

"His first?"

"Yep. Came out of it without a scratch, did his part. Baptism by fire...like lots of them get. He's a good Marine."

"Then, why am I getting him? You never give me the good ones. You give me the greenies."

"That's because you're good at helping them learn to survive. If you weren't such a pain in the butt, I'd force you to take a platoon."

"So why am I getting this one?"

"Because he doesn't want to go home and no one else wants him."

Gibbs stood up.

"What do you mean? Everyone wants out of here."

"Not everyone. Not this one. His squad was killed on assignment. He's the only survivor. Just got cleared for duty again. A bit of a loose cannon, people think."

"Is he really? I don't need a loose cannon. DiNozzo gives me enough trouble."

"He would be under anyone else."

"But not under me?"

"I don't think so."

"Why doesn't he want to go home?"

"Don't know."

"What happened to his squad?"

"Typical. Reconnaissance. Ambush. Driven into a landmine. Your man was behind and he was protected by the ones in front of him."

"All killed?"

"Three survived initially, but he's the only one who made it back to report."

"You sure he didn't just run off and leave them?"

"As sure as we can be. He has an exemplary record up to now."

"So exemplary that no one wants him?" Gibbs asked.

Morrow smiled. "Special request from Major Vance. Don't know what the guy told him to keep him here where he probably shouldn't be, but it worked and no one will have heard of him over here. So we'll take him and you'll use him. If he doesn't work out, then, we send him packing."

"Before or after he gets my men killed?"

"Preferably before."

"And what's this cannon's name?"

"McGee. Tim McGee. It's been decided, Gunny."

"Understood, sir." Gibbs saluted and then watched Major Morrow walk away.

"What did Morrow want, Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked over at the other current member of his unit. As one of the Scout Sniper teams in the STA platoon, he only had to work with a few people at a time. All the better as far as he was concerned. He'd had a kind of revolving door new members of his unit. Some were killed, others just transferred. It seemed like as soon as he got them into a state where they were any good, they left. They'd at least left him Tony.

"Pacci's replacement."

"Oh." Tony didn't look happy about that. They'd both liked Pacci. Green, he may have been, but he'd learned fast...until one of the Viet Cong got him.

"Gotta happen."

"Well, who's the greenie this time?"

"Not a greenie."

"Really? We get someone with experience? Who?"

"McGee. Tim McGee. Been out here for a year already."

"Why do we get him? What did he do wrong?"

Gibbs smiled a little. They complained about the revolving door to each other often enough. Tony couldn't help wondering if they were being punished for something.

"Nothing. Just transferred to us."

"Yeah, whatever. I get it. You don't want to have me judging him before he gets here, but we both know that something must be wrong with him...otherwise, we wouldn't have got him in the first place."

"Yeah."

"When do we get cleared for duty again?"

"You complaining, DiNozzo?"

"No way. I'm happy hanging out here. We're not right on the DMZ, we've got the beach...sort of. Some good-looking nurses...some of those Vietnamese girls aren't bad, either. Not too many rockets lately. All in all, you can take as long as you want to heal. I'll be happy to hang out here."

"Ducky'll clear me in a day or two."

"Or you'll make sure he regrets it, right?"

Gibbs said nothing for or against what Tony suggested. It was a running gag with them that Tony was only here for the girls and Gibbs was only here to kill things. Sure, it wasn't very funny, but they took what they could get out here.

"I met one of the new nurses. I think they should reconsider not having women fighting. I think she could take down any Charlie with her bare hands."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Ran into her when she was unpacking some stuff. Someone tried to take it from her and she went ballistic on him...threatened to kill him and leave no trace."

Gibbs laughed.

"Seriously, Gibbs. She rivaled you in bloodthirstiness."

"What's her name?"

"Sciuto was on her tag. First name's Abby."

"And?"

"And I may have chatted her up a bit. She didn't mind that. She just doesn't want people fiddling with her equipment...and yes, she says it's all hers."

"Interesting."

Sometimes, Gibbs got the feeling that Tony talked so much to keep himself from thinking about where they were and what they did. It was hard not to hear about the things people were saying about the war back home. It was hard not to think about how out-of-place they were in this conflict.

...and it was hard not to hear the rumors about the Americal Division and what some were saying they'd done at My Lai. It seemed like everyone had heard but no one was talking about it. As if not talking about it could make it go away. No one knew just how many they'd killed, but it hadn't been the Viet Cong. It hadn't been the North Vietnamese Army. Civilians. That's who they had killed.

And we're supposed to be the good guys here, Gibbs thought grimly to himself.

"...and so I think I'll keep talking to her. She's different. That's for sure...and different is good sometimes."

"Yeah."

"Good afternoon, Jethro! I see you're recovering nicely."

As always, the British accent of the doctor who had taken it upon himself to make sure that Gibbs healed well...it just felt so strange. As he had explained to Gibbs and Tony at their first meeting, he was an American citizen, but he had grown up in Scotland. Still, the accent was too proper for where they were and what they were doing.

"Am I ready to go out again, Duck?"

"Let me see. The infection was finally healing itself, but you never know in this climate. The humidity and the rain..."

He tsked a few times and then took a look at Gibbs' leg. Long slashes with stitches, finally healing over. It had taken a long time for it. Too much time to sit around, thinking.

"Give it another day or two, I think. It would be safer before you go traipsing through the jungle again."

"We're getting a new guy," Tony said. "We'll have to hang out for a few days anyway."

"Ah, good. Filling the ranks, again, are you?"

"For now."

"Of course. I hope this one fits in with you...or that you both are sent home."

"Can't go home with the job not finished, Ducky," Gibbs said.

"You're assuming that it can be."

"You saying you don't think we'll win?" Tony asked.

"I'm saying nothing. That is not my job here. My job is to save as many as can be saved...and send those home who can be."

They didn't say anything more. That was something they didn't talk about and for good reason.

"I'll give you a look over again in the next day or so. You'll be able to go out again."

"I know," Gibbs said.

Ducky left it there and headed back to his duties.

"Does it still hurt, Gibbs?" Tony asked.

"Nah."

By silent consent, they weren't discussing what had led to Gibbs' injury...and Pacci's death.

When the night came, even on the base, there was a certain amount of tension. It was much more obvious that they were foreigners. A different country. A different history. A different culture.

But Gibbs slept well, like he always did.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Gunny!"

Gibbs limped out at Major Morrow's call. Tony came as well.

He got his first glimpse of his new Marine.

Tim McGee stood motionless, at attention beside Major Morrow.

"Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs, Corporal Timothy McGee, reporting as ordered, sir!" he said.

"Welcome, McGee."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Morrow who just smiled.

"At ease, Corporal."

Tim relaxed slightly, but that was all. He was extremely formal.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll leave you to it. Good luck, Corporal," Morrow said.

"Thank you, sir."

Morrow silently wished Gibbs luck as well and then walked away. Gibbs looked at the man he'd been given and resisted the desire to roll his eyes. He heard Tony clear his throat, suppressing a chuckle. They hadn't seen someone so formal in a long time. Even the greenies were generally more relaxed than this Marine who had apparently been here for a year. How had he survived like this?

Like it or not, though, they had him.