Disclaimer: I own nothing but the typos. If you recognize it, it isn't mine.

Author's Note: Wow, this took a long time. Sorry about that. I have no excuse other than real life kicked my butt. I hope a long chapter and FINALLY wrapping this story up makes up for it.

Enjoy

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"Meet at the usual place?" Dean asks.

Tim's wide eyes meet Tony's concerned ones. There's a split-second between them where Tony tries to convey something to Tim, but he doesn't understand. Before Tim can say anything, Tony shifts to glare at Dean in the rearview mirror. Obviously, Tony thinks Dean and Sam are just two-bit serial killers messing with him and Tim before murdering them.

But that doesn't explain how Dean knows Gibbs.

Tim's pulse quickens.

Unless he is pretending to talk to Gibbs and it's actually Sam.

After a short pause, Dean hangs up the phone without another word. Then, he puts the Charger in gear. Dean drives the Charger down the long, twisting driveway. Tim tries to catch Tony's attention, but the senior agent is too busy watching Dean.

Sam and the Impala follow the Charger closely. The muted rumble of the muscle car's engine is the only sound Tim hears. It serves as the soundtrack as his mind reels with what happened in that house. No matter how hard he tries, he can't wrap his battered brain around it.

If he didn't know any better, he might think a demon inhabited his partner and kicked his ass before the Winchesters exorcised it. But Tim is a rational man, grounded in science and logic and reason. Out here—in the real word, mind you—that explanation makes no damned sense. Just like Dean Winchester knowing Leroy Jethro Gibbs doesn't either.

But Dean did just call him, right? Unless the Winchesters are just screwing with them one last time before ditching their bodies somewhere off 495. Those sigils and talisman and the fireworks were likely nothing more than an elaborate ruse, a devious part of the serial killers' MO.

But how do they get Tony to play along?

That's the only part that doesn't make any sense: how Tony beating up Tim fits in. Despite his constant harassment, Tony wouldn't just kick Tim's ass for no good reason. And when he does—like the odd times Tony gets the drop on Tim at the gym—Tony crows and celebrates. Tony never lets him live it down until the next Tim ends up flat on his back on a gym mat.

Deep down, Tim knows Tony would never hurt him. Mess with him, sure. Super glue him to his keyboard. Steal the snacks out of his desk. Commandeer his take out. Mock his clothing choices. Knock him on his ass and run circles around him at the gym to prove that Tony is senior field agent. Anything and everything to reinforce his place in the NCIS team's pecking order. But Tony would never, ever actually hurt Tim.

The injuries Tim received in the house are worse than anything Tony ever dealt at the gym. Bruised, possibly broken ribs. Nasty double black eyes and deep bruises around his neck that he only caught a quick glimpse of in the rearview mirror. Shifting in his seat, Tim winces. He didn't notice the throbbing in his right knee until now.

The only explanation is inside that house, Tony wasn't Tony. Tim can't really explain it, but whoever beat him couldn't have been his partner. It couldn't have been his friend. While it might have looked like Tony, it didn't sound like Tony. And whoever—or whatever—the hell that was could not have Tony. No matter how much it looked like him. Yet, that doesn't make sense at all.

A shedim, Dean called it. Whatever that means.

Maybe it's better if I just don't think about it.

Tim sneaks a furtive glance at his partner.

Tony works at the cuffs behind his back, his jaw set like a spring. His eyes cautiously dart between Dean and the window as though there might be someone worth flagging down. Seeming to anticipate this, Dean sticks to the back roads. The world outside of the car is a patchwork of bright blue sky and dense forest, broken up by odd barren meadow. They don't see another soul.

"Where are we going anyway?" Tony asks.

Dean smirks. "Somewhere nice and private, Chief. I think you'll like it."

Tony makes a tsk'ing noise. "You really should rethink your approach, Winchester. Wining and dining works wonders. You probably wouldn't need the cuffs then."

To Tim's surprise, Dean genuinely laughs. "I don't think I need your help, but thanks."

"Right now, you're Charlie Sheen." Tony lets that sink in for a long moment. "That would make me Kristy Swanson. Not that I mind being Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but I would rather be Sarah Michelle Gellar."

The car swerves when Dean takes his eyes off the road. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Tim's eyes nearly roll out of their sockets. Of course, in the most inopportune moment, Tony has to quote a movie no one ever heard of.

"The movie The Chase. Charlie Sheen kidnaps Buffy the Vampire Slayer and makes a run for the border." Tony curls his lip in mock disgust. "I could see you being Charlie Sheen, but no one wants to be Charlie Sheen. Charlie Sheen probably doesn't want to be Charlie Sheen. Even if you do get to make out with Buffy." He considers for a moment. "Don't get any ideas though. I'm so not making out with you."

Tim half-expects Tony to quip, Though my partner might and waggle his eyebrows.

"Seriously, Chief?" Dean asks.

Tony pretends to hem and haw. "Nope. I'm still not making out with you."

"Yeah, I don't want to make out with you either." There's a moment when Tony appears affronted. Then, the car jerks as Dean studies Tony in the rearview. "Do I really remind you of Charlie Sheen?"

Tony nods without hesitation. "I think it's the hair."

Dean checks his hair in the rearview before trying to smooth it. The car swerves slightly. When Tim gives Tony a sidelong glance, the older man won't meet his eyes. At that moment, Tim realizes what Tony is doing: annoying the hell out of Dean Winchester so they forget about him. And as much as Tim hates to admit it, it seems to be working.

Suddenly, Tim blurts out: "What is a shedim?"

Dean's eyes flick back to the rearview. This time, Tim is the target. Tony kicks Tim in the shin, but he won't let it go. He shifts for a better look at Dean, who wears an amused smirk.

"Stand down, McGee," Tony hisses.

Tim continues: "You said we were attacked by a shedim. What does that mean?"

"It's a nasty cross-dresser, Sparky," Dean replies, laughing.

"No, it isn't a joke. That thing tried to kill me and my partner." Tim glances at Tony, who is glaring him down. His ribs start to throb. "It was my partner…I think."

"McGee, stop talking," Tony whispers.

But Tim can't let it go. "What happened back there? And what is a shedim? That…that thing – "

"Enough, McGee."

" – it…it knew Gibbs, Tony. That thing knew about the team. It – "

"Stop, McGee."

" – tried to kill us and Winchester said it killed our petty officer. And – "

Tony leans into Tim's personal space. "Tim. Shut up before he kills you."

Even though he wants to keep asking, Tim clamps his mouth shut. He doesn't even know what the hell to believe anymore. He glances back at Dean, who stares at the road ahead, his knuckles white against the wheel. Tim's heart drops straight to his stomach. The silence stretches for several minutes while Tony seems to start working on a plan. Eventually, Dean sighs.

"It's a serpent demon," Dean explains. "Usually, they just cause bad luck and general misfortune. But someone really, really pissed that one off."

"It said Gibbs did," Tim says.

Tony kicks him in the shin again. When Dean doesn't respond, Tim takes it as a sign that Gibbs has run out of living people to piss off. Now, he has moved onto supernatural beings.

Except there is no such thing as ghosts.

Sitting back in the seat, Tony rolls his eyes. "So you expect us to believe that some snake demon killed a petty officer to lure our boss to a crime scene. And you and your crazy-ass brother happened to be there and witness it. Then, when we hunted you down, this 'demon' – " Tim can almost hear the air quotes "— attacked us. Now, you have us handcuffed in the back of our car and you expectus to believe you?"

Dean half-shrugs. "Why not?"

"If that's true, then I'm Samuel L. Jackson starring in Demon Snakes on a Plane." The tone of Tony's voice is much gruffer than his words. "Here's how I bet it played out, Winchester. You and your brother killed that Navyman to get to Gibbs. Now, you're going to use me and McGee for the same. Am I close?" He glares at Dean again. "What do you have against Gibbs?"

Tim double-takes between Dean and Tony. If he hadn't witnessed that thing himself, he might not believe Dean. Hell, it doesn't even make any sense. But he saw it…saw that snake demon thing attack Tony with his own eyes. But hell, when Tony says it like that, his version makes so much more sense. Maybe Tim was hallucinating…maybe the snake demon with a Gibbsian grudge was all a product of his overactive imagination. Could the Winchesters slipped him some sort of drug?

Oh my G-d, they really are going to kill us.

"Oh no, you got me." Dean's face cracks into an easy smile. "I kinda thought you might believe the truth, Chief. I expected Sparky to be the skeptic, even after everything."

Tony chuckles. "And why would you think that?"

"You just look like the type."

"If the tin foil hat fits, Mulder."

And that's when the Charger slows to a stop. Tim glances out the window, surprised to see the open patch of grass that edges against a small jungle gym. They're in the parking lot of a small community park that is empty, save for another Charger at the opposite end. Tony spent so long verbally sparring with Dean that they ended up at their destination. And they don't have an escape plan.

Dean puts the car in park, then kills the engine. When he climbs out, a blast of icy air wafts into the car before he slams the door shut. He pauses to scan the park.

Tim glances at Tony, wide-eyed. "What do we do?"

"We knock him out and run," Tony says quickly. "There's only one of him and two of us."

"But Tony, uh…" Tim trails off at the sight of a familiar figure by the tree line.

The man waits for them, back ramrod straight and head fixed forward. Tim recognizes the black trench, the silver hair, the ice blue eyes. Blinking, Tim shakes his head as he tries to clear his muddled brain. If Tim didn't know any better, he would think Gibbs were here.

Which would mean…

Dean Winchester isn't lying about the demon.

Dean waves at Gibbs, who nods.

Tony doesn't notice because he is too busy harassing Tim. "Come on, McGee. Now isn't the time to freak out. Get your head in the game. Winchester is – "

"Talking to Gibbs," Tim finishes.

"Wha…what?" Tony snaps his head up.

Tony continues to sputter, speechless for once, as Dean opens Tim's door. With a tilt of his head, Dean ushers Tim and Tony out of the backseat. As soon as they're outside, Tony glances between Dean and Gibbs unsure what to do. Tim keeps his eyes fixed on his boss. Both of them stand awkwardly in the parking lot, still cuffed and unsure what to do, while Dean closes the distance with Gibbs.

"That is Gibbs, right?" Tony finally asks.

Tim nods slowly. "Oh yeah."

"What is he doing here? How does he know Dean Winchester? Was he really telling the truth about everything?" Tony blinks owlishly. "More importantly, how hard did I hit my head?"

Tim decides not to tell Tony that the snake demon wore him like a suit. When he doesn't say a word, Tony licks his lips and makes a face.

"'Well, that's good news. Snakes on crack.'" Considering, Tony shakes his head. "Demon snakes on crack because that's just what we need."

Quirking an eyebrow, Tim looks at his partner. "What are you talking about, Tony?"

"It's from Snakes on a Plane, McGee. Tell me you've seen it." Tim's shrug, which earns a scoff. "Figures you haven't. While it might not be Samuel L. Jackson's finest hour, it has some artistic merits in that…"

While Tony rambles about how wonderful a movie called Snakes on a Plane can be, Tim watches Dean Winchester cross the small patch of grass towards Gibbs. Dean extends his hand and instead of shooting him between the eyes, Gibbs shakes it. Then, they converse and while Tim can't hear it, they appear to be talking like they know each other. Like they might actually be friends.

Tim's mouth hangs open. "Are you what I'm seeing?"

Tony goes suddenly silent.

"Does Dean Winchester know Gibbs?" he continues.

"I bet Bossman is just lulling him into a false sense of security," Tony says resolutely. "You know, get him to cough up some juicy details about their murder spree. Gibbs is going to slap those cuffs on any second now. Just wait for it." The long pause stretches for several minutes. "Really, any second now."

They wait for a moment that never comes. When Dean says something, there's a twitch to Gibbs' lips. A hint of smile, nothing more, but it shows Gibbs holds some level of respect for the serial killer.

"I don't think Gibbs is going to arrest him," Tim surmises.

"Yeah, McGee, I'm starting to see that." Huffing, Tony draws himself to his full height. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this. Right now."

Without waiting for a reply, Tony lumbers across the park toward Dean and Gibbs. While he might be going for intimidating and imposing, he comes off as anything but.

Tim hangs back, feeling awkward and strange. It takes a moment to realize how odd he must look standing in the park, hands still cuffed behind his back and beat to a pulp. He makes a face at himself before trailing after Tony. If there is something he doesn't feel like dealing with right now, it is figuring out why Gibbs is being buddy-buddy with Dean Winchester, serial killer extraordinaire. Because that is far stranger than the snake demon—shedim, he corrects—that tried to kill them.

"…tell your father about it," Gibbs is saying when Tim arrives.

Dean nods. "Yeah, that shedim took it personal."

Gibbs half-shrugs. "It's an old grudge."

"Things from the other side are coming after you. Aren't you tired of pissing off things yet?"

Gibbs tilts his head as though to say no.

"Of course, you don't." Dean makes a huffing noise. "Shedims don't go after people without a good reason. You, of all people, know they aren't usually aggressive with humans. The worst you get if you cross them might be a stomach bug or a migraine. Maybe an ingrown toenail or two."

"It had information about the demon that killed my family." Gibbs locks eyes with Dean. "The one that killed your mother. It didn't want to talk, so…"

"So what, boss?" Tony blurts out.

Gibbs reels as though he didn't realize Tony was there. He doesn't say anything, so Tim finishes for him: "You killed its vessel. Some person, right? You killed the person carrying that thing?"

Gibbs bristles before he sighs loudly. "Only because we couldn't get it out. Usually can't get a demon out without destroying the vessel." He surveys Tony for a long moment. "Unless you're lucky."

Tony's mouth opens. Closes. Deepens into a frown. "What's going on, boss? Shouldn't we be, y'know, arresting Winchester and grilling him until he turns over his brother?"

The roar of a muscle car engine cuts through the still air. Seconds later, the Impala pulls into the parking lot. It idles near the Charger, engine growling. Sam Winchester waits, drumming his hands on the wheel.

"That's my cue." Dean shakes Gibbs' hand again before giving Tim and Tony a mock salute. "Sparky. Chief. Wish I could say it's been a pleasure, but it really hasn't."

"You did good, Winchester," Gibbs says.

Dean's bravado cracks for a split-second, a telltale flush creeping over his cheeks. "Thanks. Though, I think we're even."

Gibbs smirks. "Until the next time I bail you and your brother out."

With a laugh, Dean stalks across the grass to join Sam in the car. Once the Impala roars out of the parking lot, Gibbs finally uncuffs Tim and Tony. They stand, rubbing their sore wrists, both wanting—needing—to ask just what in the hell is going on. Gibbs checks them over. He spends several long moments staring into Tony's eyes before he pulls at the younger man's shirt to examine his neck. Tony shrinks back, perplexed. When he seems satisfied with what he did—or didn't—find, he sighs.

"How's the head, Tony?" Gibbs asks.

"It hurts like hell." Tony's eyes slide back to the parking lot. "Why did you let the Winchesters go, Boss? They have outstanding warrants in like ten states. The FBI has been looking for them for years."

"I owe their dad a favor."

Tony flinches. "You're kidding."

"Served in the sandbox with John Winchester. He got me out of trouble and I promised to return the favor." When Tony starts to protest again, Gibbs raises his hand. "What you see isn't always reality, DiNozzo."

Tony's eyes droop as the last bits of adrenaline leave. "I think it might be the head injury, Boss. But you really, really sound like a fortune cookie right now."

He is left rubbing his temples while staring back at the parking lot. As though he can no longer handle being upright, he sinks down in the grass. He drops his head in his hands.

Gibbs moves to Tim. He studies the bruises on Tim's face and the other visible marks.

"Are you okay, McGee?" he asks.

"I-I-I think so. Um, uh, yeah. I'm fine." Tim hitches a nod. "But Boss, what was that thing? It knew you. It took over Tony. It….it wanted to kill us, Boss. The shedim – "

"Is gone, Tim," Gibbs interrupts. "Dean banished it."

"How do you know that?"

"Been doing the same thing as the Winchesters for a long time." He nods. "It's gone."

Tim grasps at the last bits of a reality he already knows is gone. "You mean, you've been playing serial killer and breaking into abandoned houses?"

Gibbs' smile is wry. "Demon hunting."

Tim's laugh sounds more than a little deranged. "Come on, Boss. That's crazy. It's – "

"The truth."

Tim laughs again. Shifts his weight. Rubs the back of his neck. "But why tell me, Boss? Why not Tony?"

"You think he can handle it right now?"

They both glance at Tony, who sits in the grass. His eyes are screwed shut, his fists against his temples as though he could reach through his skull. It isn't until then, Tim hears him groaning.

"I'll explain when the time is right," Gibbs says.

"When will that be?"

"Soon. Tony is marked," Gibbs explains. "It is hard to accept, but it's only a matter of time before another one comes after both of you. The Winchesters might not be there the next time." There's a pause before he adds: "I might not be there."

Tim shifts his weight. "What do you want us to do, Boss?"

Gibbs shakes his head. "Stop the demons."

Tim half-nods. "Of course."

Stepping back, Tim pinches the bridge of his nose. In just a few hours, his entire world has been turned upside down. A snake demon—shedim—bent the very fabric of his very rational, very normal, very boring universe. And now? Now, his human boss is telling him that there are more things like that out there and he wants Tim and Tony to play Ghostbusters. While it might not be the craziest thing he has ever heard—he does work with Tony after all—it's close enough.

He feels just short of cracking up when he notices Tony still cradling his head in his hands, Gibbs still watching him intently. While Tony is a bane on Tim's existence, he is the closest thing to a brother the young man has ever had. Gibbs, the closest thing to a father. If a shedim—or some other sort of demon—is going to come after them, Tim wants to do everything he can to protect them.

He just needs to be ready.