The last chapter.

Thank you all for reading this story and the positive feedback.

The last two chapters haven't been proof read but I sincerely hope I didn't commit too many typos or any flagrant grammatical errors. I'm not English.

Note: Episode Tag to "Grace Period" (S04E19)

You'll find snatches of that episode in this chapter.

Chapter 5: Twist of Fate

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May 2008 - Officers Memorial Day

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After the short memorial service in the FLETC Chapel in honor to the students who'd fallen in the line of duty during the past year, Tim slowly made his way to the Memorial Wall where he found Jim's name, engraved in one of the nine polished Minnesota granite panels.

Tim only heard half of what was being said at the The Peace Officers Memorial. His mind kept straying back to his days at FLETC. Hadn't it been for Jim Nelson, he might not have made it.

His marks had shown that, due to his dedication and tenacity, he had been able to master all that was needed to make a good NCIS Agent.

However, knowledge, the various skills and abilities necessary for his profession, also came coupled with physical prowess. To someone like Tim, that posed the hardest part. Thankfully, with the help of a staunch friend like Jim, Tim could eventually make it in the tough athletics training and improve to such a standard he passed all the physical tests.

They'd both been good enough to raise to that coveted status of Field Agents at two of the best MCRT's.

Now and then, words filtered through his thoughts.

"...Let's all pray for our fallen brothers..."

Tim couldn't think of the sacrifice made by other agents from other agencies.

There was only one.

"My Fallen Brother..."

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- -.-. -. . .

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September 2007

The news came like a bombshell...

The kind of news that had Team Gibbs end up working on a case too close to home for comfort... A case which might very well have been on them.

Tim shuddered.

He had drawn the shortest straw, so he was the one to make that call to Gibbs to tell him the sad news of the death of two Agents: Richard 'Rick' Hall and... Jim. Dead.

Paula Cassidy's team which included Richard 'Rick' Hall and Jim have been on duty two weekends in a row. The ironic truth was that this weekend, Gibbs' team was supposed to be on 'tip line' duty, but Gibbs had managed to get his team the weekend off.

So cruel fate had it that, instead of Gibbs' team, two members of Paula's MCRT had walked into an ambush, meeting their end by the hands of a suicide bomber inside a shop on Millstone Avenue.

Mercifully, Rick and Jim had been killed instantly. And that's also what Director Shepard had told Amy, Jim's young wife, and Tom and Mary Hall, Rick's parents. Alas, to their families this was but a small consolation.

To Tim, it was a gruesome sight that met his eyes as he haltingly walked inside the shop, his senses assaulted by the permeating acrid smell of explosives residue, charred metal, wet plaster and burnt flesh. His gaze was instantly attracted to the body half sitting against the wall close to the entrance and he just knew it was Jim's.

Jim was dead.

"It could've been us. It should've been me..."

As they were processing the bombing scene, Ducky caught Tim, perched on his haunches, gazing as if mesmerized at Jim's charred body.

Odd. Jim's right eye was still half open as if staring at forever.

Ducky knew Tim well enough to notice the subtle changes in the young man's behavior. It didn't take him that long to deduce what had caused those. Granted, it wasn't every day one got confronted with a charred victim of a bomb explosion. Yet, young Timothy McGee was no rookie and had seen his share of brutal death and destruction.

This could mean but one thing.

"Oh dear..."

"You knew him."

Tim forced himself to look Ducky in the eye, if only briefly. "He was a good friend of mine." He continued staring at Jim's burnt face. "I hate seeing him like this. It's almost like…" Gulping, he couldn't bring himself to go on.

Ducky nodded in understanding as he turned his attention back to the headless corpse of the suicide bomber. "It could have been you."

Gibbs joined them. "It almost was, McGee. We were supposed to work the hot line this weekend."

"Boss, you're serious about that?" Tony called as he made his way over to them from his corner amidst the devastation caused by the bomb.

A commotion at the entrance to the shop brought the conversation to an end. They would talk about this at some other time.

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- -.-. -. . .

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Later, down at the lab, Abby had found him sitting against the cabinet next to the fridge. He sat with his knees bent and his arms resting on them, staring into oblivion.

She hadn't heard him enter, intent as she was playing and replaying the tapes, comparing the tip-line calls. A small sound made her turn to the right very slowly.

"McGee? That you? How long have you been sitting there?"

Seeing Tim sitting there in silence with the saddest look on his face, freaked her out a little, truth to tell.

"Not long."

"I'm really… sorry about Jim Nelson. I know you guys were really close."

"I wouldn't have graduated from FLETC without his help." Tim replied with a slight tremor to his voice.

Her heart went out to her friend.

"Then we would have never met."

"Or maybe he'd still be alive. We were supposed to take the weekend shift. Those bodies downstairs should be us."

Abby sighed. Of course he would think like this. This was Timmy! McGee, who had the ability to make unrelenting self-criticism an art form.

Leaving her workspace, she went over to her best friend and, lowering herself to his level, she held out her arms as an invitation to a comforting embrace.

"Timothy, don't even think things like that, okay? Everything happens for a reason."

Closing his eyes, Tim accepts her support and leans into her surprisingly gentle hug.

This precious moment was broken by the rather untimely arrival of Gibbs and Paula.

"I'm not even going to ask," the Team Leader stated sarcastically at seeing his people in such close contact.

"Um, technically that was a squatting hug, or a "squg," if you will. But I digress." Abby said, getting up and scurrying over to her computer.

Gibbs stooped and held out a hand to Tim.

"Yeah, big time."

A little surprised, Tim accepted the hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. Still feeling a little in shock, he knew the job was waiting. He shuffled out of the lab on feet weighing tons.

"I have some paperwork to do," he muttered and made himself scarce.

They had a murderer to catch. A murderer still at large, as the suicide bomber...wasn't exactly a suicide bomber. Not since they'd found out he'd been dead for a day before he was blown to kingdom come.

But all he could see were Jim's eyes, half-lidded in death.

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- -.-. -. . .

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May 2008 – Back at the Memorial

All those months after the bombing, Tim could reflect on the past.

Like the day he'd first met the dark skinned boy with the ready smile and the good times they'd had at the competitions.

He would never forget Jim's invaluable support which helped him through FLETC when he himself had been close to giving up, thinking he'd never make it.

He recalled the day when Jim, bursting with excitement, had called him with the news that he was going to marry Amy, the girl of his dreams. He'd been Jim's best man at his wedding.

A few months ago, he'd celebrated with Amy the birth of their baby boy. Paul. Named after Jim's Team Leader, Paula Cassidy, who had sacrificed herself to save the lives of others but also because she couldn't live with the guilt at not having been able to protect her team members.

So here he stood, honoring the memory of his fallen friend; saying a prayer and promising Jim he'd look out for Amy and the little kid.

"Rest in piece, my friend. You've earned it."

"It should've been me."

He ran a finger over the carved letters.

Then he let his eyes go over the other two names: Richard Hall and Paula Cassidy.

Three more names added to the monument.

Three more brave people who had given the ultimate sacrifice in their fight against crime, in service of their homeland.

Then, he turned away.

One day, he would join them.

Right now, however, life would go on... Jim wouldn't want him to dwell on this.

Just like with that accident in the past, Tim had had no hand in Jim's death, nor had there been anything Tim could've done to alter the course of history.

What happened, had been intended to happen all along.

It was a fatal destiny.

It was part of the job.

Being a Federal Agent wasn't easy. The job was never completely safe with danger lurking around every corner. Tragedies were prone to happen. More names would be added to the Memorial... Friends might still be dying performing the job they loved.

He couldn't help but marvel at the mark Jim had left and smiled.

Tim had learned to persevere. He was a fighter and as long as he would believe in the job he was performing, justice would prevail.

He would continue "to investigate and defeat criminal, foreign, and terrorist intelligence threats to the United States Navy and Marine Corps, wherever they operate: ashore, afloat, or in cyberspace."

Tonight, he was going back to the club.

He would take up his sword again remembering Jim. And what better place than on the strip to reminisce about all he'd learned from a good man?

Lunge. Charge. Touché!

FIN

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