Trauma Queen: A NCIS Fanfiction

Chapter Three

I looked at the dead body on the ground and I shuddered. No matter how many dead bodies I'd seen, it never got any easier. Our marine was lying supine with his eyes open and a single gunshot wound through his left chest. I sighed as I put on a pair of gloves and followed Timothy towards the body.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, giving me a sideways glance.

I nodded. "Seeing dead bodies doesn't get easier."

He nodded in agreement. "You will get used to it, don't worry." He had a camera around his neck which I assumed was to take photos of the scene.

I knelt down next to the body, reaching in his pocket for a wallet. He was on the concrete of a parking lot in the middle of some podunk town and kneeling on the ground was anything less than comfortable. There was no wallet, but there was a military ID card. Brian Davis. I stood up and held the card up for Gibbs to see. He took it from me and bagged it in a see through bag with EVIDENCE written across the top.

"Help Ziva out with processing the scene. She'll show you what to do." And with that, he was off to do something important.

"Come on," Ziva said with a smile.

I followed her around the scene, placing yellow tabs with numbers on them on random objects. To me, there seemed to be no method, but then again this was my very first crime scene so I didn't exactly know how this stuff worked. There was a bloody footprint, a gun, a watch, some money, and cigarette butts. I could only assume the gun was the murder weapon, but then again, I could be wrong.

Some older man, who was definitely older than Gibbs, stepped out of a large van with a younger man. The van had MEDICAL EXAMINER written across both sides. The older guy was dressed like a cute old man with a suit and bow tie and I smiled looking at him. The younger one seemed disheveled in a white button down and slacks.

"That's Ducky, our medical examiner. And the other is Jimmy Palmer, his assistant." Ziva nodded in their direction.

"Ducky?" I was very curious about the strange name.

"Doctor Donald Mallard. We call him Ducky though."

According to Ducky, our marine had been dead less than twenty four hours and the gunshot was the most likely cause of death. No matter what I was busying myself with, I was unable to keep my eyes off the body. He looked like he was in pain and he didn't seem to be at peace. Something about his demeanor seemed off, even though he was dead.

"Hey, you all right?" Gibbs seemed to come out of nowhere and was suddenly next to me.

I nodded. "Shaken up."

He handed me the keys to his car. "Go sit down. When McGee is done with pictures, I'll have him drive you home."

"Thank you sir. I'm sorry." I smiled sheepishly at him.

"Never apologize. It's a sign of weakness." He walked away after pointing me in the direction of his black car.

Once I got in the passenger seat of the sedan, I just started crying. Never had I ever cried after an EMS call. Not even when the four year old girl was thrown from her dad's vehicle. Not even when my patient fell off his roof in front of my eyes. It was the training in me that taught me not to get emotional over a call because if I wasn't stable, I couldn't help someone.

And now, I couldn't help our marine.

I was wiping the mascara that was streaming down my face when Timothy opened the door to the car. He had a very worried expression on his face and I immediately turned my face away from him. I never liked when people saw me cry, especially if I barely knew them.

"You all right?" He asked, staring the car up.

"Fine," I said flatly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." I didn't know what to say. "Thank you for driving me home. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah of course. Where do you live?"

"1786 Mintwood Place." I smiled, thinking about my apartment. I absolutely loved where I lived. It was a single bed and bath apartment with a full kitchen and living room which I decorated with all dark wood furniture and a black couch. I had a huge bookshelf lining the back wall of the living room because I was a huge nerd and loved to read and write. I was currently really into crime fiction, but that was mostly because I was excited about my new job. I had a desk in the middle of the room which had three monitors which I used mainly for gaming. I also had a small laptop which I used for my writing; I really loved writing and had been writing fiction since I was a little kid. Although it never went anywhere, it was one of my favorite hobbies.

"Wait, seriously?" Timothy asked, shocked. "I live in that complex. Which apartment are you?"

"Two. Which are you? Why have I never seen you around?" I asked. I didn't know a single person in my building so it was nice to know I had someone there.

"Three. We're literally across the hall from each other. When did you move in?"

"About a year ago. What a coincidence."

"Oh okay. I moved in a few years back; I've been here for a while now." He smiled.

"You should come over for dinner one night. I can't cook, but we can order pizza or something!" I was so happy to be making friends with Timothy. He seemed like a really kind person and like someone I could really get along with.

"Yeah sure. That sounds good."

We pulled up to our apartment building and I thanked him as I got out of the car. He drove away before I had even opened the door to the building and I sighed as I went through my bag to find my keys. I had a terrible habit of misplacing or not being able to find my keys ever. When I finally found them I let myself into my apartment and grabbed a case of Redd's. Finally home, I was able to change out of my uncomfortable clothing and into some pajamas. I threw on an old MIT teeshirt that was way too big on me and didn't even bother putting any pants on because I wasn't going anywhere for the rest of the night. I plopped myself down on the couch and sifted through my shows on Netflix and settled for Friends. It was one of those shows that I could watch anytime without needing to really pay much attention. I cracked open a beer and put my feet up, letting my body sink into the couch.

I must've fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I remembered was hearing someone knocking at my door. I groggily rubbed my eyes and looked at the time. Twenty-one hundred. I slowly stood up, combing through my hair with my fingers to make myself look somewhat presentable. I had no idea who could be knocking on my door at this hour.

I opened the door to see Timothy standing there, clearly in his pajamas. He looked exhausted and like all he wanted to do was go to bed. I noticed his eyes a little wide and I was very confused as to why he was staring at me like that.

"Oh hey Timothy. What's up?" I rubbed my face with my right hand, still trying to wake up.

"Uh um I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You know, after today." I could tell he was trying desperately to keep his eyes on my face.

I looked down and immediately realized I wasn't wearing any pants and my shirt fell just below where my underwear was.