Family Portrait
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.
A/N: Hello, fellow NCIS fans! This is not my first NCIS fic, but it is my first one in almost six years. (Yeah, I know. Long time not to write!) I was twelve when I wrote my last NCIS fic, so my writing has improved dramatically since. This fanfic is an AU where the team, including Kate, Ziva, and Tony, are children in an orphanage in Baltimore who witness a murder. Gibbs and Jenny (yep, I brought her back too) are NCIS agents who investigate the murder and meet the kids. I don't want to give the rest of the story away, so that's all for now. Hope you read on! The timeline is set in the present. I'm only eighteen, so my knowledge of the 21st century is better than the 70s or 80s. Please Read and Review! Constructive Criticism is welcome!
It was a clear, bright Saturday morning in early August. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and the heat came in waves. A beautiful weekend, and a team of Naval Criminal Investigative Service special agents were stuck indoors doing paperwork.
Mike Franks, the leader of the team, was up in MTAC talking to the director. Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and the new probationary agent, Stan, were sitting at their desks doing tedious background checks and various other paperwork. That is, until they heard the loud arguing coming from the top of the steps.
"With all due respect, Director, we don't need another agent. Our team dynamics work best with just us three, so I don't see why-"
The director of NCIS cut him off sharply. "Well, I do, Agent Franks. My decision is final." Turning to face Gibbs, who hadn't given any indication that he was listening, and Stan, who was openly staring, he said, "I expect you all to welcome Agent Jennifer Shepard to the team."
A beautiful woman with long red hair stepped out from behind the Director. Stan's jaw dropped, and seeing this, Gibbs glared at him and smacked him on the back of the head. "Quit staring at my girlfriend." Stan gulped and looked down.
Gibbs and Jenny had been dating on and off for three years, ever since they had been partners on an overseas case in Paris. She was the only exception to Gibbs' Rule Number 12: Never date a coworker. They lived together in a small apartment by the naval base. They had always kept their love life and work life separate, but Gibbs was happy to have a chance to work together. Along with being a beautiful woman, she was an excellent agent, and he missed working with her.
He could tell, however, that Jenny was nervous. She was always more concerned with keeping it professional in the workplace. But she would relax once she got used to the situation.
Just then, the phone on Franks' desk rang loudly. He answered. "Hello, Special Agent Franks." After a minute, he murmured, "Alright, we'll be there in the next twenty minutes or so." Turning to Gibbs, Stan, and Jenny, he said, "Gear up, team. Got a dead Petty Officer in Baltimore."
They arrived in Greenmount, Baltimore about twenty-five minutes later. The Petty Officer's body was located in an alley behind a dilapidated building named The Coldrock Orphanage.
"Check the body for I.D." Franks ordered. Stan found the victim's wallet, complete with a drivers license and a Maryland state identification card. Her name was Petty Officer Natalie Brooks. She was thirty-two years old. The pool of blood surrounding her corpse indicated a fatal stabbing, but they would wait for an official cause of death from the medical examiner, Jack Roberts, and his assistant, Donald Mallard. There was a disappointing lack of evidence. The next step was to try to find witnesses, and the most obvious place to look was the orphanage.
Just as Franks was about to tell Stan and Gibbs and to check inside the building, a small movement caught his attention. A grimy window was built into the brick wall of the orphanage, just about eye level with the crime scene. It must've been the basement of the building. Franks signaled to Gibbs to watch his back in case the movement was the murderer. Gibbs nodded and turned around quickly. His fast movement startled whoever was watching, and the team heard a loud bang as something came crashing down in the dark basement.
Gibbs and Jenny drew closer to the window and peered in. There, watching them from a heap on the floor, were two little boys. The older, a brown haired boy who looked about seven or eight, held the younger, a blond haired boy with taped up glasses that looked about five, tightly in order to protect him. The younger one's blue eyes showed absolute terror, but the older boy's hazel eyes glared at them in anger.
It had been hard to see into the dark basement through the grimy window, but from what Gibbs and Jenny had seen, the boys were dirty and skinny, and they both were bruised, although the older one was worse off. Gibbs was immediately concerned, and Jenny was also worried.
When Franks and Stan came to the window to look at them, the older kid pulled the younger kid to his feet, and both of them bolted from the room.
"What the hell?" Muttered Franks.
Stan shrugged. "It's just some kids being curious."
"If they saw us, they might've seen what happened to the victim. We should go talk to them." Jenny suggested.
The others nodded in agreement and headed toward the front door, climbing the stone steps and knocking hard.
Small footsteps sounded from inside as someone approached the door. A small olive-skinned girl, who looked about six years old, opened the heavy door. "Hello. Welcome to Coldrock Orphanage. How may I help you?" The girl spoke politely in a foreign accent that Jenny thought sounded Israeli. Her faltering use of the English language and heavy accent suggested she was relatively new to the country.
Gibbs made a mental note that she did not smile. She looked dirty and tired, and like the boys they had seen, she was small and skinny. Also similar to the boys, a few bruises were visible on her skinny arms and legs.
Jenny spoke softly to the girl. "Hello, sweetie. Can I talk to the owner of this place?"
The girl nodded curtly and ran down the dirty hallway just visible from the door. She returned a few minutes later with a crabby-looking middle-aged lady with dyed reddish-blond hair. "Yeah?" she asked, sounding bored.
Just as Franks was about to answer, the woman turned to snap at the girl. "Ziva! Where are your manners? Take their coats." Turning back to the agents, she added, "The name's Mack."
Ziva hurried over to reach a little hand out for their NCIS jackets. They smiled at her, but said they needed to keep their jackets on. She retreated quickly.
"Ma'am, we're NCIS special agents, investigating a murder of a petty officer. The victim was found in the alley behind the orphanage. Did you or any of the children here see anything suspicious?" Franks asked. Gibbs noticed Ziva's eyes widen slightly at the question.
"Nah, we didn't see nothin'." Mrs. Mack replied easily.
"The kids didn't either?" Stan asked. Ziva shifted uncomfortably.
"Nope, I don't –"
"Can we ask them?" Jenny interrupted.
Franks and Stan looked at her in surprise. Jenny wasn't the type to interrupt people. But she was clearly angry at Mrs. Mack for the way she treated little Ziva, so Gibbs wasn't surprised. He was angry, too. Mrs. Mack looked at Ziva with contempt and it showed in her voice.
The lady narrowed her eyes, but quickly pasted a fake smile on her face. "Sure. Right this way." She turned on her heel and headed down the hallway. The team and Ziva followed behind her.
About ten feet into the cramped hallway, a little boy was on his hands and knees, cleaning the floor with a dirty rag. Upon closer inspection, Gibbs recognized him as the younger of the little boys from the basement. He looked up and his face paled at the sight of them. Pushing his broken glasses up the bridge of his nose, the boy swallowed hard.
"Timothy! Go to the kitchen immediately." Mrs. Mack ordered. Timothy stood up and made as if to run to the kitchen. She grabbed the back of his shirt. "You will finish your chore later, yes?" Timothy nodded quickly. She let go and he ran, disappearing into a room on their left. Mrs. Mack seemed to scare Ziva and Timothy. She treated Timothy with the same rudeness and contempt as she treated Ziva. Jenny and Gibbs were clearly pissed off now, and Franks and Stan were getting angry, as well.
They reached the kitchen, which turned out to be a large room filled with less than a dozen children, all seemingly under the age of ten. Some of them were washing dishes, some drying, some putting away. Right away, Gibbs spotted Timothy talking to the older boy from the basement, whose cold green eyes were focused on the team. Standing next to him, talking with them, was a little girl of about seven, with brown hair and bright brown eyes. They were narrowed in suspicion as she looked at the team. Sitting on the counter behind her, a little girl of three or four years old with piercing green eyes and long black hair in pigtails smiled happily and waved at them before the older girl grabbed her hand and seemed to scold her gently.
Ziva ran over to them and started whispering, pointing to the team. Mrs. Mack cleared her throat threateningly and the room went silent. "Children, the police are here to ask you some questions. Answer them."
She had made as if to leave the room when all of a sudden a loud crash startled the occupants of the room. Every head swiveled around to look at the little girl with pigtails and the shattered remains of a plate at her feet.
Everything went deathly silent for a long moment as the kids all turned to look at Mrs. Mack in anticipation of the horror that would follow. Her eye twitched for a moment. Then all hell broke loose.
Mrs. Mack lunged at the little girl. In a matter of seconds, several things happened. The little girl with the pigtails screamed in terror. Ziva, Timothy, and the older boy all jumped in front of the little pig-tailed girl, as the older brown-haired girl clutched her protectively. The rest of the kids gasped. The youngest ones began to cry. And every NCIS agent drew their weapons on the woman. Mrs. Mack slapped the boys and pulled the girls' hair before Jenny wrestled her to the ground.
"Move and I'll shoot you." She growled at her. Gibbs, Stan, and Franks lowered their weapons as Gibbs went to handcuff the woman. The kids all watched in shock as she was led from the room by Franks and Stan, cursing at the agents and threatening the kids. Gibbs and Jenny stayed behind in the kitchen.
Ziva, Timothy, the older boy, the older girl, and the little girl with the pigtails stayed huddled together in one corner of the kitchen. Gibbs and Jenny turned to look at them.
"Hey guys." Gibbs said quietly, not wanting to scare them. "I am Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and this is my partner, Jenny Shepard."
The little girl with the pigtails smiled and waved again. The older girl caught her hand and gave her a stern look. The older boy glared at Gibbs and Jenny. Ziva and Tim just stared at them in awe.
Jenny tried next. "What are your names?" She asked softly.
The older boy and the older girl just looked at them. Ziva shifted uncertainly. Timothy looked up at the older ones, seemingly as if to ask for their permission to talk to these strangers. But the little pigtailed girl didn't even hesitate. She ran over to them before the older girl could grab her.
"My name is Abby and I'm four!" She exclaimed proudly, holding up four fingers.
"Hello, Abby." The couple chorused, smiling at her. Gibbs took an instant liking to this bubbly little girl. He felt a pain in his heart when he thought about a certain happy little girl from his own past…He mentally shook himself. Now wasn't the time. He had to keep these kids safe.
Timothy broke free of the older boy's grip and ran after Abby, pulling at her sleeve. "Come back here, Abbs!" He said, trying to pull her to the safety of their group. Jenny knelt in front of him.
"What's your name, sweetie?" She asked, even though they already knew. Timothy gulped, looking back nervously at the group.
Ziva and the older kids had joined Timothy and Abby by this time, and Timothy felt safer with them at his side. "My name is Tim." He said shyly. They smiled at him.
"Hey, Tim." Gibbs greeted him warmly.
"How old are you, Tim?" Jenny asked. Tim held up five fingers.
Jenny turned to look at Ziva. "Your name is Ziva, right?" Ziva nodded. "Such a pretty name, honey!" She told her, smiling at the scared looking girl. Ziva smiled shyly for the first time.
"How old are you, Ziva?" Gibbs asked.
"I am six years old."
They all turned to look at the older boy and the older girl, who looked at each other. "C'mon, Katie, tell him your name!" Abby whispered loudly, urging the older girl.
Katie sighed and acquiesced. "My name is Kate and I'm seven." She answered, squeezing Abby's hand and Tim's shoulder.
"Hi, Kate." Gibbs and Jenny chorused. They looked at the older boy expectantly.
The older boy shifted uneasily. "I'm Tony. I'm eight." He told them. Not a trace of a smile showed on his bruised face.
"Hi, Tony." Gibbs said to him. Jenny smiled and waved.
On the other side of the room, another girl, who looked about ten, stood with four other children- an African-American boy of maybe six years of age, a nine-year-old girl, and two toddlers – a little girl with blond hair and a little boy with curly brown hair.
Franks and Stan came back after transferring Mrs. Mack to the Baltimore police's custody. They looked around at all the kids and turned to the five on the opposite side of the room from Gibbs and Jenny. "Agent Stan and I will work with these five. You two work with those five." Franks ordered. Gibbs and Jenny nodded and turned their attention to Tony, Kate, Ziva, Tim, and Abby.
Stan and Franks approached the kids and knelt down beside them. "Hello, kids. I'm Special Agent Mike Franks, and this is my partner."
"You can call me Stan." Agent Stan told them. "What are your names? How old are you guys?"
The oldest girl answered first. "My name is Cassidy, and I'm ten. This is my sister, Paula. She's nine." Paula waved shyly.
The African American boy stepped up next. "I'm Gerald. I'm six years old." He gestured to the toddlers. "Ellie is three, and Jimmy is two."
"It's good to meet you all." Franks said gruffly. "We're going to get you guys somewhere safe."
"Can you come with me?" Stan asked.
They followed the agent out of the room and outside, where they talked as they waited for social services to pick them up.
Franks went into the office where Mrs. Mack worked and searched for the files for the ten kids. When he found them, he sat down at the desk to review the information, emailing a copy of each to himself so that he could share them with the team later. They needed the information in case these kids were witnesses.
Outside, the older kids were questioning Stan about the victim. How did she die? Who killed her? Why? Stan told them he didn't know yet. He asked them if they had seen anything, but they said they hadn't. But Tony and Kate had the trash chore yesterday, and since Ziva, Abby, and Timothy followed them everywhere, they had all gone into the basement to get more trash bags. When they had returned, Tony told Mrs. Mack that there was a dead lady in the alley. Then Abby had woken everyone with her screaming about blood when she had a nightmare last night.
So it wasn't Mrs. Mack who had discovered the body; it was Tony, Kate, Ziva, Tim, and Abby. Maybe they had seen something.
Meanwhile, Gibbs and Jenny were questioning the kids on the daily happenings in the orphanage.
"So, guys, does this happen often? Mrs. Mack hurting you?" Jenny asked, concerned.
The kids remained silent. All, that is, except for Abby, who made a face and yelled, "She's a big meanie! She hits us and she yells at us and she's scary! I hate her!"
"Be quiet, Abby!" Tim whispered loudly.
"You be quiet, Timmy!" Abby frowned at him.
"No, Tim, it's okay. Abby was telling us what we needed to know." Gibbs said. Abby stuck her tongue out at Tim. "They won't hurt you again. We'll keep you all safe." He added seriously.
"Pinky promise?" Abby asked, just as serious.
Jenny hooked her pinky with Abby's right pinky, and Gibbs hooked his pinky with her left one. "Pinky promise." They said together.
Her little face lit up. "Okay!" Timothy smiled, but hesitantly. The older kids looked more skeptical, but none of them challenged the statement outright.
Right then, Stan ran into the kitchen. "Agent Gibbs and Agent Shepard, can I talk to you for a minute?" They nodded and told the kids they would be right back.
"Guys, the other kids just told me that the kids you both are talking to reported the body to Mrs. Mack. She didn't find Petty Officer Brooks. The kids were in the basement, and the little girl, Abby, had a nightmare about blood. Do you think maybe the kids were watching the whole thing from the basement window?"
Gibbs looked at Jenny. "Looks like we found our witnesses."
They came back into the kitchen to question the kids about what they might've seen.
"So, Abby, I heard you had a scary dream last night. What was it about, honey?" Jenny asked the youngest child.
"I saw somethin' scary and I had a bad dream 'bout it." Abby said quietly. Whatever she'd seen must've scared her, because she looked like she was about to cry. Kate stroked her hair and soothed her.
"Did you see the lady outside, Abby?" Gibbs asked.
Abby nodded, sniffling. Kate glared at him.
"Did you see what happened to her?"
Abby burst into sobs. Tim started to cry next.
"Leave them alone. You're scaring them!" Tony yelled, holding Tim protectively. Ziva hid behind them.
"We're not trying to scare anyone. But we needed to know." Gibbs said calmly.
"Will you all come with us to N.C.I.S? We need you to tell us what you saw, so we know who to protect you from." Jenny told them seriously.
Ziva looked up at Tony and Kate with wide eyes. Abby and Tim had stopped crying, and they looked at the older kids in anticipation. Tony and Kate looked at each other again.
Meanwhile, the other children watched as a two cars drove up to the orphanage. A short middle aged man with a bow tie stepped out of one car, and the social worker got out of the other.
"My goodness! What on earth is going on, my dear Stan?" The man with the bow tie asked Agent Stan.
"Hey, Ducky." Stan explained the situation to the assistant medical examiner, Donald Mallard. "Why did you drive your own car? Where's Doctor Roberts?"
"The dear fellow asked me to meet him here. So what is to happen to the children?" Ducky asked, concerned with the children's welfare.
"Well, about half of the kids were witnesses. They're inside with Gibbs and Jenny now. But these kids out here are-"
"Headed for state care." The social worker finished the sentence. "But God only knows where exactly. I have no idea where to put them. The foster homes are all booked up. They'll probably have to head to an emergency shelter for now." She sighed, stressed beyond belief. "It's the little ones I'm worried about. Children that young can only thrive in home settings. No two or three-year-old should be in a shelter."
Ducky felt a tug on his bag of medical supplies. A tiny hand was pulling at it. Stan laughed. The blond-haired little girl smiled brightly, wiping her runny nose on her dirty shirt. "This one's name is Eleanor Bishop. They call her Ellie." Stan introduced them.
Ducky laughed. "Why hello, dear Eleanor. What a charming young lady."
Jimmy ran over to Ellie. He looked curiously at the bag Ducky was holding. He stuck a dirty hand inside and tried to pull the supplies out.
"You're a curious lad, aren't you?" Ducky chuckled again, zipping the bag and putting it back in the car so the kids wouldn't be hurt by the sharp instruments.
"That is James Palmer. Everyone calls him Jimmy, though." Stan told Ducky. Jimmy smiled shyly and sniffled. Ducky smiled back.
The smile faded once he got a good look at them. "They are rather small for two and three years of age, perhaps due to malnourishment or neglect…they are also rather dirty, and they look a bit flushed. They're sniffling, as well. Those might be the beginning symptoms of a cold."
"Oh, poor babies. They won't get much rest at that busy shelter, that's for sure." The social worker sighed.
Ducky looked at the young children and his heart went out to them. He cleared his throat. "Would it be terribly soon to ask if I may take them into my home?" He asked the social worker. "I have a fostering license, but as it is fairly new, I have no children with me. I am approved for up to two."
The social worker looked both surprised and relieved. "Umm, yes. That would be wonderful. I can conduct an emergency placement meeting at the Center. Can you pick them up in a few hours?"
"It will be my pleasure." Ducky assured her as the NCIS van pulled up.
Okay, guys, there's the first chapter! Sorry it was so long. My next chapter is probably going to be long, too, but the following chapters will be shorter, so that there will be less time between updates. Please Read and Review! Constructive Criticism welcome.