A few days after graduation and the NCIS team left, I woke up in a panic. This time, it wasn't a nightmare about me killing Peter. It was about my friends. All of them. They had been killed. Sniper bullets through their foreheads.

I predictably couldn't sleep after that, so I got dressed quickly and crept out. I checked on Spencer briefly, then climbed out of the fire escape.

I walked around with my hands shoved in the leather jacket's pockets with no real destination in mind. I just wanted to get the image of their dead eyes staring at me out of my head.

Soon, I found myself next to my oak tree. There was a full moon tonight, and the light reflected throughout the lake. Thanks to the strong breeze, the waves moved with hypnotizing grace, throwing the moonlight every which way.

I climbed onto the tree and draped onto one of the thicker branches suspended over the lake. Then I pulled the leather bound notebook Gibbs had gotten me and a charcoal pencil out of my jacket. I made a quick rough sketch of the scene in front of me. Then I added details. As an afterthought, I drew a hoard of water lilies cascading over the waves, and wild iris on the bank.

I pulled out the colored pencils Tony had given me, and began to color in everything. When I was finished, I had another pretty picture depicting the lake. Though the picture itself was pretty, it did no justice to the gorgeous scene in front of me.

I sighed and flicked through the small book. In the month that I've had it, I've almost filled up the entire book with drawings. Only a quarter of the pages were left untouched. Some drawings were of the lake, some were of my friends, of Spencer, of my mother, of the NCIS team, and some of Nicholas.

I stopped at the page of Nicholas. Because I had done the drawing from memory, it looked similar to him, but it wasn't him.

I sighed and put the book and the pencils back into my pocket. After making sure they were secure, I put my laid down and put my head on my folded arms. Having done this numerous times before and not really worrying about falling, I closed my eyes. In seconds, I was asleep; lulled by the gentle sound of the waves.

Instead of seeing my dead friends, I saw fields of flowers, trees that reached to the sky and perfect for climbing, rivers and lakes perfect for swimming, and the smell of fresh air mixed with rain.

Criminal Minds

When I woke up again, it was to the sound of whining. Pitiful, broken whining that tugged at my heart.

I sat up, suddenly awake, and looked around.

The full mooning was beginning to dip beneath the waves, and, after snapping a quick picture, I leapt down from the tree.

The whining sounding again. It sounded like something young. A puppy probably.

I followed the sound until I came to a bush near the oak tree. I crouched and approached the quivering bush slowly and spoke, "Hello."

The quivering stopped, so did the whining. Growling replaced it.

I laughed and extended my hand towards the bush. "Easy. Easy there. I won't hurt you. Easy. Come on. Come out."

I felt something cold touch my fingers, and didn't move while the cold thing explored my hand curiously. I slowly drew my hand out of the bush, and the cold thing followed it until a puppy's head poked out of the bush.

I sat back on my heels and smiled at the puppy. It was mostly black, with a silver face. At least, I assume it was silver. It was too dirty to really tell. It had bright, icy blue eyes that regarded me warily.

I dipped my head and extended my hand again. "Easy there. I promise, I won't hurt you. Won't you come out?"

The sun was beginning to rise up, and with it warm morning air was intruding on the chill.

Slowly, the puppy began to step out of the bush. It was limping, and when its front legs appeared from the bush, I figured out why. A jagged wound stretched from the back of its neck, across its left shoulder, and down to its paw. It was bleeding sluggishly, and looked like it had been made by a knife.

I gasped softly and the dog's ear came up. It looked like a husky hybrid. Intelligent eyes stared up at me as it finished detangling itself from the bush.

I quickly took off my leather jacket, then the gray hoodie underneath. The cold air stung my bare arms, so I quickly shrugged the leather jacket back on.

I slowly reached for the puppy and brushed its uninjured side lightly. He pushed into my touch and whined pitifully at me, blue eyes wide and pleading. I softened and gently wrapped my hoodie around his small frame. He can't have been older than 6 months. He was too small, and too young looking. Why would someone do this to such an innocent thing.

I pulled the puppy to my chest and stood up. "Don't worry. I know how you feel with the whole knife thing." I rubbed my cheek as I walked away. The scar had faded, but the thin silver mark was still there, and it was still noticeable. And, even had it not been, my ear would always be.

"But I'll take care of you. I'm sure that Spencer will let me. And if he doesn't, I'll go out and get myself an apartment or something. How does that sound?"

The puppy licked my cheek, but whined again as it strained the injury. I shushed it, "Easy. Don't move too much, or it'll hurt worse. I know from experience."

Surprisingly, it listened. It had no collar, so I assumed it didn't have an owner. I'd have to get it vaccinated, and give it a bath ASAP.

Thankfully, I had gotten a job at a local bookstore/café that paid well, so I could pay for it myself.

The dog was a him I think. I had always wanted a dog, even done research in case I actually got one. I had always wanted a husky or a German Shepherd. Maybe even a pitbull. I wanted a protective dog. That was all I was certain of. That and that I refused to ever even entertain the idea of having a toy dog, the yapping would drive me insane.

I walked across the street and hastened towards the apartment.

I wasn't sure if the building would be open at this hour, and hadn't taken my keys with me earlier, so I awkwardly climbed up the ladder to the fire escape with the dog in my arms.

After several minutes of hoisting myself up with one arm, I finally reached the window. I slid it open and climbed inside.

When I turned towards the kitchen, I smelled coffee. Spencer must have been up already.

I walked into the kitchen and Spencer heard me. Without turning around from his position next to the microwave, he said, "Morning, Kiles. Do you want some coffee?"

He turned around to look at me, and sighed. "Let me guess. You want to keep it."

I beamed at him. "Yep. I'll buy everything he needs, I'll train him, and I'll get him to the vet today."

Another sigh. He glared at me grumpily, opened his mouth to start an argument, though better of it, and turned around mumbling, "I need coffee. Fine. Keep the dog. But it's your responsibility, Kiley! I'm not taking care of it."

I looked at the dog happily and chirped, "Thanks, Spen! You won't regret it."

I pranced to my room with the dog in my arms. I heard Spencer sigh from behind me and mutter, "At least she'll have something to do."

I locked myself in my room, then walked to the bathroom.

I began to fill up the bath and left the puppy on the ground as I went in search of my med kit.

I came back with it in my arms and some injury friendly soap that I found after dealing with my own injuries. It got the dirt out, canceled out chance of infection, and didn't feel like I was cauterizing the injury. I kept some in the med kit in case I'd ever have to use it again.

I unraveled the puppy from my hoodie, kicked the garment away, pulled off my leather jacket and threw it back into my bedroom, then slowly lowered the puppy into the warm water. He whined pitifully at first, and bit my hand trying to get away. But once he got used to the water, he stopped and let me wash him.

I scrubbed gently at the injury, which earned me another bite to add to the growing list. It took at least 20 minutes before I had a very clean puppy in front of me instead of the thing caked in dirt I had dragged in.

I dried him off with a towel as gently as I could, but it bit me yet again. That was three bites on my hand I'd need to take care of once I was done with him.

Once he was dry, I held him down and applied some anti-bacterial cream, as well as painkilling cream, to the injury and wrapped it tightly with white gauze.

With my task finally complete, I looked down at the puppy. I'd take him to the vet later today, I'd need to call actually, but I would also have to get him a lot more stuff.

He'd need puppy food, dog bowls, a bed, a collar, maybe some toys, training pads, lots of time, and, most importantly, a name.

I bit my lip, staring into the icy blue eyes in front of me. "What would be a good name for you, hmm? You're a survivor obviously, but I can't call you that. It's too long. Maybe a book character…. A Musketeer? Yeah. You could be a Musketeer. But the question is, which one? Aramis, Porthos, Athos, or D'artagnan. Hmm….. I've always like D'artagnan. But Athos was always pretty cool too. In that new show, Athos has blue eyes. His are a bit darker, granted. But he has blue eyes. So, I'll call you Athos. How does that sound?"

The puppy blinked at me, then laid down on my lap.

"Alright. Athos it is."

Athos huffed, but didn't do anything else. I giggled and picked him up.

Standing, I carried him over to my bedroom with a fresh towel. I put it on the floor near the window, then set him down on it. "Get some sleep, Athos. I'll take you to the vet later. I'll have to call work, tell them I can't come."

I opened the door and walked out. Spencer was now ready for work, and munching on a bagel covered with cream cheese.

"So, what did you name him?" He asked around the bagel. Actually, it sounded more like: 'Sew, whad fid yu rame em?"

I smirked at him, "Wasn't it you who taught me manners? And, I named him Athos."

Spencer grinned at me. He swallowed his bite and said, "I thought your favorite was D'artagnan."

I shrugged and grabbed a bagel for myself. "It is. But, D'artagnan had brown eyes. Athos had blue. The puppy has blue. And he kind of acts like Athos."

Spencer smiled at me, "Well. On that note, I have to get to work. Take, Athos, to the vet today. Get him vaccinated so neither of us get sick. And wrap your hand before you go digging around, bleeding, through the fridge."

I smiled bashfully at him, "Oops. Forgot about that."

Spencer rolled his eyes and waved before walking out the door.

With a sigh, I washed my hand in the sink before going back into my room to get the med kit. After wrapping it similar to my puppy, I pulled out my phone and called the book store I worked at. Musket Books. They would definitely need to know I wouldn't be at work today until this afternoon.

Sapphire here! So, did anyone catch the thing I put into this chapter? I love the Musketeers, so, naturally, I have to go looking for more stories of said Musketeers. One set of stories I stumbled upon is mentioned in this chapter. Does anyone else get it?

Also, Athos is a really good name.

And no, I won't put any mention of actually going to Musket Books. That story is not mine, and, unless the author grants me permission, I won't put someone else's work here.

I realize how hypocriticalthat sounds. Shut up.

ST