I do not have any rights on NCIS!

The plot is, however, made up all by myself.

I don't know if this story will be able to offend somebody. I hope not. If it should - sorry, I didn't mean to do this.

The plot is set somewhere in season 8 and I might make reference to those seasons.

Please excuse or try to overlook the mistakes I made in grammar and spelling. I tried my best but the longer I type the more mistakes I make. I hope you can understand everything, though.

I am glad about every comment left to my story. Criticism is very welcome, too. Don't be shy to point out mistakes if you notice some.

So.. enjoy!

Until I was five years old I lived in a house made of red bricks with my mom, dad and my dad's parents. We had a large garden with hardly any flowers but a lot of thik grwoing, green grass that made the ground as soft as cotton wool. It was a nice neighbohood we lived in and my best friend lived across the street. I would come back from kindergarden and be excited about playing with my folks in the garden, having a BBQ at the weekends in summer or lying on the grass, my had in my grandma's lap, listening to her telling me stories about the family, her youth or sometimes just a fairytale I loved.

We didn't went to church regularly, none of us really cared. Gran'pa used to pray every night but I never learned a lot about religion. However - this house, my place, was what I imagined paradise to be like. I knew that if someone died, he or she would wake up at a place that was exactly like this I already had. That's why I was not afraid when mom told me that grandma died. Because I knew where she went to.

However, I had to learn as well how it feels to loose paradise when this was exactly what happened. Gandpa suffered a heart attack on the funeral and moved to a nursing home.

My parents had not the money to keep such a large house all alone while caring for him as well, so we sold it and moved to a smaller house which looked very classic with its veneer which was made from white-painted wood. I liked that house but it was small and living on the naval base wasn't as great as living in the neighborhood I knew. I got along well. I made friends, I got enrolled in school and did a good job there. We went to visit Grandpa and even though we both missed his wife and he was too weak to play with me the way he did in the past - we rememberd the old times, we talked and laughed and he taught me how to play Uno, Poker and canasta and we had good times together.

I stared and the building in front of me and realized that my hand were shaking. I saw it red venner and couldn't believe that I was so afraid of entering. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and started to walk, while tring to keep my steps just as brisk and calm as I have watched my parents do it and I got angry with myself for doing this. I never wanted the Navy to know my name. Not it was the only hope I had left.