Season: None, Pre-series, AU
Warnings: Scenes of death and gore, but nothing too graphic
Rating: T for language and later violence
A/N: I've seen also of fanfics like this, but all of them are about Tony. Don't get me wrong, I love Tony, but I thought that Tim should have a go for once. Anyway, I hope you like it! ^^
Reviews are gonna be worshipped... also they will get cookies!
~ Through a child's eyes - Chapter One ~
Timothy McGee sat alone in the open trunk of a police car, his legs dangling out of the car, too short to reach the pavement. A thick, grey blanket was wrapped around his shacking form, holding a Styrofoam cup filled with hot chocolate, which he had gotten from a nice policewoman a little while ago. He wasn't shacking just because it was the middle of January and very dark out. Even though he had already taken a few large gulp of the hot beverage, it as still unable to remove the sour, bitter taste in his mouth and the back of his through, and its strong, sweet spell wasn't enough to mask the strong sent of the two liquids that he still had on him. Looking around, he saw many police vehicles and even more policemen arriving on the scene, putting 'no not cross' tap around a certain area.
"God, would you look at this mess!" a red haired policeman commented, rubbing the back of his neck.
"First time?" asked a policewoman, tacking a sip of coffee.
"Yeah… How long do you think we'll be here?"
"This is nothing compared to a lot of other ones. I think we'll be done by the end of our shift," she smiled, patting the man on his back.
"Kinda feel sorry of the kid though. No 8 year old kid should ever see something like that."
Tim began to tremble again and quickly dropped his gaze onto his drink, watching the milk slowly spins and mixes into the hot chocolate. This was nothing?! How could that be nothing? He couldn't help to think back to the events that lead him to this.
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Tim ran down the street as if the devil was on his tail. He didn't want to, but it wasn't his really his choice, he was being chased. Again, for the third time that week. It was the bullies from school again. It was a small group of boys, around 6 of them, all older or bigger then him (though that wasn't hard as he was often mistaken as a 6 year old). He wasn't sure why they picked on him; they just did, practically every day. When it first started his mother had told him to not pay any attention to them and they would stop. He did just that, no matter what they did to him, he didn't say anything, but it didn't really help him very much. It wasn't just the name calling, but if they could they would push him over or kick or punch him, but it was all right, Tim could handle it. One time when they had caught him on his way home from school, he had to go to the hospital because of a broken arm. He had lied and told his mother that he had fallen over and crushed it under his body. She bought it, but he wasn't sure the doctors had. He never told on them. He was too scared of what they would do to him. Besides, it wasn't that bad, he could tack a few hits now and then.
He quickly dashed down a small alleyway and crouched down behind a garbage can. The gang of boys ran past him, unaware of him. He could just about hear what they were saying.
"Where'd he go?"
"I don't know! How can someone that small run that fast?"
"We were so close this time. I was starting to get that rush, ya know?"
"Lets just forget about that little geek, he's not worth the hassle. Besides, we'll get him later!"
With that, he could hear them walking further and further away. He waited a few minutes before creeping out from behind the dumpster, patting the dust of his clothes. He was wearing plain, blue jeans and a red top. Tim was never really one to be into fashion very much, anything that fit him and was comfortable was fine by him. He quickly noticed that it was starting to get dark and started to head home once again. But knowing that it would take him longer then usual because of his little 'detour', he decided to cut through the park to save some time. It wasn't the kind of park with swings and slides, but more like a huge field with trees and bushes dotted around everywhere. The little kids used to play there before one of the adults found dirty needles and smashed up bear bottles laid in a heap somewhere. After that none of the adults would let the kids play there. But Tim wasn't playing, so it would be okay, right?
As he passed a large huddle of trees and bushes, he suddenly heard something. Stopping and listening closely, he could just make out a muffled conversation between two men, which was accompanied with the occasional low grunt. Tim couldn't help but wonder what was going on. He was never one for danger or adventure, but when it came to mysteries, he couldn't help himself. Licking his lips nervously, he slowly advanced towards the voices. He quietly knelt down by one of the trees and silently crawled halfway into the bush, so that they wouldn't see him, but he could see them through the mess of leaves. He thought that maybe it was just some teenagers drinking or a couple making out or something like that, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.
The first thing he noticed was that there was two men standing up, arguing in hushed whispers to each other. They were both fairly tall and muscular, completely dressed in black, which included their ski masks. The slightly taller one was holding a wooded baseball bat that looked rather old and battered. Tim's eyes suddenly widened when he spotted something on the bat. A think, red liquid, dripping slowly to the grass covered ground. Blood.
There was a low grunt, like he heard before. Looking down at the ground where it came from, he almost vomited. Laid on the ground was a middle aged looking man in an expensive looking suit, but that wasn't what Tim was staring at. He was covered in blood and fresh, ugly, purple bruises, his arms, one leg and his jaw looked like they were broken, as they were twisted in a sickly angle. He looked almost like he was out of a horror movie, just barely alive, moaning in pain. Tim was surprised that he was still alive; surly no one could take a beating like that and live. This was bad. Very, very bad. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him to run as fast as he could, just get away from it, but he was frozen with fear, staying perfectly still, not even daring to breath. The only thing he could do was listen to the two other men.
"Did you have to go that far!" asked the smaller man, who was shifting his weight from foot to foot, obviously nervous.
"Look, we were told to get the guys wallet, we got his wallet," snapped the larger one who was holding the bat.
"But did you have to… you know, beat him as hard as that?"
"Well, duh! Look, if he can't tell anyone any of this cos I broke his mouth, that's good! We were actually supposed to kill him, so he got of lucky! We needed to get those codes and keep him wait, were done here!"
Suddenly, the man on the ground gave a loud coughing noise, making a large cloth of blood splutter out of his mouth. Afterward, he became incredibly still and his brown eyes went glassy. Tim clamped his hand over his mouth to stop himself from gasping or screaming.
"See, look, he's dead, now can we go before the fuzz shows up?" snapped the man, who turned towards Tim's directing, about to walk away. He stopped for a second, looking over near Tim. His eyes were piercing green, like cold emeralds. Tim wasn't sure if he had saw him or not, because the man quickly looked away, distracted by what sounded like police sirens.
"Damn it!" he muttered, dropping the bat and grapping the others upper arm. "Come on!" And with that, they sprinted of thought the bushes, just missing him.
Tim stayed there, perfectly still, his breathing shaky and uneven. Tears rose in his eyes and his whole body began to tremble. After that, his mind went blank, his body giving into panic. He didn't think about what he was doing, he just acted on instinct. Scrambling to his feet, he rushed over towards the body and knelt down beside it. He clawed at the man's suit, shacking him roughly.
"Co-come on… wake up, wake up…" he pleaded desperately, his voice coming out a lot higher then usual, large tears spilled down his cheeks. He couldn't really be dead. He just couldn't!
"Please! Wake up! You have to… you… have… to…" Tim suddenly lost control, his crying turned into heavy sobs, his face leaking many different fluids. He turned his head away from the body, unable to look at it any longer. He expelled the contents of his stomach until it turned into a sickly, vile fume. Everything was spinning and then everything went black.
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Tim shuddered again. He had tried to forget it ever since he had been woken by a police officer. But it kept on floating to the top of his mind, like a bubble. He just wanted to go home, to his mother and sister and forget that any of this ever happened. He had tried to convince the police that he should go, but they weren't having any of it and made him stay. Tim brought his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. He couldn't help but wonder… what now?
A/N: I hope you like it, please tell me what you think