Disclaimer – Unfortunately, I do not own any of the NCIS characters featured or mentioned in this fic. All of the unrecognised characters are mine.
I should also add that I am British and, as such, words will be in the UK spelling, not American. Please let me know if I have gotten anything wrong or you think something should be changed. Please note, though, that this doesn't mean that it WILL be changed – I might have written it that way for a reason.
There will be a lot of medical terminology in the chapters to come and although I work in a healthcare setting and will have researched these terms/conditions/injuries, I might still get things wrong.
Lastly, this is not my first fanfic, but it definitely is my first NCIS fanfic! So please be nice, but if you can't be nice, be constructive! Thanks!
Chapter 1
Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs finally felt himself rising through the familiar feeling of unconsciousness. Wait a minute, why was he unconscious? The marine remained motionless with his eyes closed as he struggled to get his sleepy brain to understand what had happened and provide him with an explanation. He recalled previously waking up, but had no memory of his current situation. Surfacing a little further, he remembered getting up that morning, changing, and then heading out for his usual morning run. But then nothing. Nothing but a steadily growing pain throbbing in the left side of his skull and a bubbling anger at having been rendered unconscious without being able to recall any sign of danger.
Years of marine training kicking in, Gibbs lay perfectly still despite feeling the need to physically explore his headache. Without opening his eyes and potentially alerting any captors to his now conscious state, he focussed fully on his other senses to give him a picture. Immediately, the agent was aware that he was lying on a cold, probably stone, floor. Combined with the absence of any breeze and the odour of mould and dampness, Gibbs decided he was inside a building, possibly an abandoned warehouse or similar. Concluding that there was nothing more he could do whilst feigning unconsciousness, the marine was a split-second away from opening his eyes when he heard the distinct sound of a door opening, a key in a lock and the creaking of old hinges long in need of oiling.
There was a set of heavy footsteps combined with a constant shuffling, similar to someone dragging something. As Gibbs waited, he listened as the footsteps stopped and a chain rattled. Without missing a beat, the footsteps seemed to head back the way they came, the key sounded again in the lock, and the door slammed shut.
Finally opening his eyes, the hardened marine felt his heart nearly stop in his chest. From the sounds he had just heard, he had had the mental image of a fellow captive being brought in. But nothing from previous experiences of being held captive or his two tours of war could have prepared him for the sight he was met with.
Separated from him by solid metal bars was, indeed, a fellow captive. But this was no ordinary situation. Chains surrounded the wrists, thin through malnutrition, and held the body upright. It was obvious that they weren't conscious by the way the feet trailed on the floor, and the head lolled against the chest. Gibbs felt his blood roar with anger as he took in the condition of the captive. Long hair obscuring the face led the agent to assume the figure was female. Her jeans, scuffed and blood-stained, hung loosely from her tiny frame and purplish black hand-prints stood out against her white skin. But even that didn't come close to the one thing that the marine couldn't get his head around.
This girl couldn't have been more than eight years old.
He pushed himself into a sitting position, fighting back a groan as his headache protested to the change in equilibrium. He knew he'd need assistance in getting himself and the child out of their captivity, and his thoughts moved to his team. He always went for a run before heading to the Navy Yard, a fact known by his Senior Field Agent. On occasion, DiNozzo had ended up staying at the boss' house, usually after a hard case, or when recovering from some injury or another, and the two would complete the run together.
The marine was known throughout the office as one to always arrive early. By habit, he usually reached his desk by 0600hrs at the latest, coffee cup in hand. He was a creature of habit, his routine could be set in stone and he ordered his day with a military precision drummed into him in the Navy. As such, he had full confidence in his team to be able to track and find him. The silver-haired agent almost smiled as he pictured Abby throwing herself into his arms before holding him at arm's length and lecturing him into next week about scaring her half to death.
Reality came crashing back as there was movement in the accompanying cell. The marine swiftly rose to his feet, ignoring the creaking in his bad knee, and approached the bars separating the two cells. The father in him ached as he watched the kid pull one foot, then the other, underneath her to take the weight off her wrists. He could hear her breathing now, shallow and laboured and wheezing. Memories flashed of his senior field agent struggling for breath under blue lights, but he squeezed his eyes shut and shook the images away.
"Hey, kiddo," Gibbs said, his voice soft and non-threatening. She immediately stilled, obviously having been unaware that she wasn't alone. Trembles shook her small body and only added to the fire growing in the marine's heart. "You're ok. I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Gibbs, I'm a cop, can you tell me your name?"
As the agent watched, she lifted her head slightly, revealing a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth and a terrified expression, but she said nothing. Keeping her eyes to the floor, Gibbs wondered if she had even heard him. Could she be deaf? It seemed unlikely since she had suddenly stopped moving as soon as he had started talking, but just to make sure, he moved to his left, further into her line of sight, and repeated his words, signing at the same time.
"Hey," He whispered, smiling softly as just for a split-second, her eyes met his. As soon as she looked up at him, she looked away, seemingly even more frightened than before. The marine frowned as he watched her shift from foot to foot, her head shaking in the negative but before he could attempt to calm the terrified child, the door to the cell block was thrown open and bounced back on its hinges.
"The hell kind of operation you running here?! Kidnapping and abusing kids!" The lead agent couldn't hold in the anger any longer and all NCIS training of 'don't rile your captors' went out of the window. There was nothing on this earth which was going to stop him from getting in the way of this sicko. Hell, he'd give up his own freedom if it meant that she would be left alone.
