I have a lot of stories going, but I couldn't stop myself!
Please R&R, and be nice. Constructive criticism is ok.
How Did This Happen?
This can't be happening. This can't be happening. Tony repeated to himself as he rocked back and forth in a tight ball and started rubbing his arm viciously hopping that it would take the sting from the needles away. They had poked and prodded him like a pin cushion, all against his will of course. This can't be happening. He thought again. But no matter how many times he repeated it, he still couldn't believe it. How had this even happened? Oh right. He accidently blew up his school. And it was also his misfortune that the police were already there to talk to them about 'stranger danger.'It really hadn't been his intention, but what else was he supposed to have done?
~Flashback~
"What are you gonna do now?" The bully sneered as he shoved Tony into the corner again.
But he did nothing. If there was one thing his father had taught him, it's that when you fight back, you get an even worse beating. So he kept his head down and tried to shut everything out. Last time his father had beat him the kitchen quite literally exploded. He hadn't meant for it to happen, but he was just so terrified and he didn't know what else to do. It's not like he could control… whatever it was he was able to do. He was soon brought out of his musings when the shift in his ribs position let him know the bully had pushed him again. Probably breaking his already cracked ribs. He finally lost his control when he banged his head against a locker. What followed next still confounded him to this day, but the next thing he knew his ears were filled with ringing and everyone who had been near him was now on the other side of the room, along with everything in the room. Not to mention the windows had been blown out.
He didn't know how long it took him for his body to be able to actually function at his brain's command, but that only resulted in his body trembling. And before he knew what he was doing, he pointed his hand at his backpack and without much thought it flew into his hand. By the time he was outside, the police were there and children were screaming and pointing at him. So he did what any terrified second grader would do. Started running. Unfortunately he didn't make it very far and was soon surrounded by police officers pointing their guns at him, screaming him to for him to get down. Which only proceeded to make things worse.
He started trembling again and was about ready to lose whatever control he had left, when he felt an electric pain shoot through his back. Before he landed on the ground the last thought that crossed his mind was this: What kind of person tazes a second grader?
~End Flashback~
So that led him to where he is now. Having no idea where he was, why and ready to burst into tears. Begging and pleading that this was just another terrible nightmare.
~NCIS~
"But why the hell do I have to go?!" Gibbs yelled.
"Oh come on Probie, suck it up." Mike said calmly from his seat across from the director.
"But I don't understand why they need us. It's not even a NIS case." Gibbs mumbled.
"Look they want the best interrogators the government has to offer. That's you two. This man is a threat to society, and it's your job to get to the bottom of this. Not to mention it will look fantastic on the NIS records." The director said calmly.
"Just what exactly did this guy do to gain this much attention from all the acronyms in the alphabet?" Franks asked sitting forward in his chair.
"He blew up a primary school and almost killed half the class." The director said with a cold conviction.
"He did what?" Gibbs demanded as his blood began to boil. How could someone try to kill innocent children like this?
"The thing is, he didn't have any kind of device with him, and it seemed to detonate from him, but he doesn't have a scratch on him. We are dealing with something completely out of left field. I want both of you over at the base as soon as possible. Keep your wits about you. Dismissed." The director said with a wave of the hand, signaling that the conversation was over.
