Innocence Lost

Chapter One:

"Like father, like son," Ziva said.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Tony asked defensively.

"Oh come on, Tony," Tim said, "you've been framed for murder; your father's been framed for murder. How many families has that happened to?"

"If you guys can't find any work to do, I'm sure I could find some for you," Gibbs warned. He didn't even have to look up to know his agents were heeding his warning. The sounds of shuffling papers and fingers dancing across keyboards filled the bullpen. With no pressing case to work, the group was left catching up on old paperwork and by day two they were having a hard time staying on track.

Just as Gibbs finished reviewing Tim's report from the last case they'd worked, his phone started ringing. He snatched it off the hook and wedged it between his ear and shoulder. "Gibbs," he said as he signed his name to the report.

"Just because we've both been framed for murder doesn't make us bad people," Tony said quietly across the bullpen while Gibbs was occupied on the phone.

"Never said it did," Tim whispered back.

"I think Tony has a guilty conscious," Ziva said with a sly grin.

"Grab your gear," Gibbs said as he stood.

Once again his team jumped at his command. Within minutes Gibbs was in the Dodge Charger and Tony, Ziva and Tim were in the truck and they were all headed to a 7-Eleven not far from the front gate of the Navy Yard at the request of a DC Metro officer.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," a younger Middle Eastern man yelled as he came running out of the store waving his hands. "Do not park van in front of store. I will lose customer."

"We'll move it as soon as we're finished," Tony said after Gibbs ignored the man and walked right into the store.

Gibbs saw a Metro officer standing in the doorway of what looked to be a small office. Inside the small office he could hear a child crying. He flashed his badge as he walked up to the officer. "Special Agent Gibbs; what've we got?"

"Four year old male, Noah Tate," the officer said. "Apparently he wandered away from Tyler Elementary School and headed over here. The store owner caught him trying to steal food and called us. When we found out he was a Navy Brat, we called you."

"I don't understand," Tony said. "Why not just take him back to school?"

"Because of what else I found," the officer said. "Kid tried to run but I managed to grab him by the back of his shirt; ended up pulling it up slightly and, well, it looks like someone's been torturing him. He has big welts covering his back. I tried to talk to him about it but he's pretty upset."

"It okay, Boy, it okay. Do not cry. We help. We help." The Middle Eastern woman was having no luck calming Noah down. The boy sat in a plastic chair in front of a large messy desk and he appeared to be inconsolable. His face had turned a dark shade of red and his tears had plastered his messy blonde hair to his head.

Gibbs entered the room and smiled at the woman as he gave her a friendly nod. He took his hat off and ran his hand roughly through his hair as he squatted down in front of the little boy. "Hey Kiddo," he said calmly. "What's bothering you?"

"I not a'ppose a talk to strangers," the four year old wailed.

"You're right, Noah," Gibbs said as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his badge. "You're not supposed to talk to strangers but I'm a police officer and I just want to help you."

"You're the police?" Noah asked.

"Uh-huh," Gibbs said, sitting down in the chair next to Noah. He knew his knees would start aching if he squatted for too long.

Noah seemed to be even more distraught at the news of Gibbs being a police officer. He curled himself into the fetal position and cried even harder. Gibbs pulled the troubled child into his lap and hugged him, trying to provide some comfort. The little boy was crying so hard he was gasping for air.

"Noah, Buddy, try to calm down for me," Gibbs said, taking stock of the child's appearance. His clothes were a little small, as if he'd had a recent growth spurt. His t-shirt didn't quite cover his belly and his pant legs stopped well above his ankles. He had a nice tan left over from the summer months that made his blonde hair look even lighter. He was a skinny child; Gibbs was sure he could feel every bone in the little boy's body as he held him. To the naked eye, he appeared to be just like every other growing boy. "You're going to make yourself sick, Kiddo," Gibbs said. "Everything's going to be okay."

Noah sobbed into the sleeve of Gibbs' black NCIS jacket while the agent ran his hand down the back of his head. He wasn't sure the extent of the injuries on his back and didn't want to cause anymore pain or discomfort. "Can you try to answer some questions for me?"

"Can't," Noah said his voice shaky with tears. "I'll get-get in tr-trouble."

"Because I'm the police?" Gibbs asked. Noah nodded as he rubbed one of his eyes with his fist. His tears finally seemed to be subsiding. "You know what, Noah?" Gibbs continued. "I'm not the regular police; I'm a special agent and I help little boys and girls like you all the time. I'd like to help you."

With tears still trickling down the four year old's cheeks and his body still shaking from his meltdown, Gibbs gently lifted the back of his shirt so he could see the injuries on the boy's back. He realized right away that a trip to the hospital was in order. He'd never seen anything like it before. Large angry welts comingled with bruises and small open sores where Noah had rubbed and scratched at them, trying to get some relief. Gibbs realized he wasn't going to get anything out of the boy and decided it was time to go.

"DiNozzo, Ziva, McGee, find his mother and bring her in for questioning then get a search warrant and go through her house," Gibbs instructed. "And I want to talk to someone from Tyler Elementary. I want to know how a four year old managed to leave school and wander three blocks without anyone noticing."

"On it, Boss," they all three chimed in unison.

"We'll be at Washington General." Gibbs looked at the little boy in his lap. His tears had finally stopped and he sat exhausted, staring off into the distance. His head wobbled back and forth as if he might fall asleep at any moment. "Noah," Gibbs said gently, "you're going to come with me until we can figure some things out. I know you're scared and upset but everything's going to be okay."

"No," Noah pleaded as he shook his head back and forth, "no, please. I won't be a bad boy anymore. I will go back to school. Sorry! I'M SORRY!"

"Shh, you're not in trouble," Gibbs said. "Just try to relax; let me do all the worrying."

It was easy to see how exhausted Noah was as Gibbs buckled him into the backseat of the charger. As soon as he closed the car door, the little boy slumped over in the seat, completely drained of all his energy. Gibbs adjusted his rearview mirror so he could keep an eye on him then pulled out onto the road and headed towards the hospital.

Noah's fight or flight instinct kicked in when he realized he was at the hospital. His brain told him to run but before his feet could obey, Gibbs reached down and took his hand. The little boy stalled and dawdled as they walked through the parking lot but Gibbs gently led him into the Emergency Room and over to the check-in desk. Noah looked around at all the walls confining him and realized he was trapped. There was nowhere to escape to, no one to rescue him; he was on his own.

After checking in, Gibbs and Noah sat down in an out of the way corner of the waiting room near the TV. It wasn't terribly busy for a Tuesday morning but there were several other people around. Gibbs' attempts to get Noah engaged in books, magazines, puzzles, coloring pages or the TV all failed. The little boy seemed to have gone from incredibly upset to completely despondent in the short amount of time. He sat limply in his chair, his blue eyes only open a slit, his face fixed in a permanent frown. His stomach let out a long, noisy growl and he glanced nervously up at Gibbs.

"Are you hungry?" Gibbs asked.

Noah stared blankly at the agent then watched as he stood and walked the short distance to the vending machine. Gibbs returned with a bag of cheesy Doritos, opened it and held it out to Noah. "For me?" the boy asked quietly, unsure of why the man would be offering him chips.

"For you," Gibbs confirmed as he sat back down. "Eat up, we'll get some real food when we leave here."

Noah cautiously took the bag from Gibbs. Was this some sort of cruel trick? Was the bag empty? Filled with bugs? He peeked inside and saw there were chips in there. He glanced up at Gibbs. The man didn't look angry, he didn't look like he was going to hit him or snatch the bag away at the last second. He reached his little hand into the bag and took a chip out. After one last look at Gibbs, he took a small bite then braced himself. He waited for Gibbs to strike him, yell at him or take the food back but the agent just smiled so Noah took another bite and another. Boy did those chips taste good.

They didn't have to wait long before a nurse called their names and led them back to an exam room. Gibbs lifted Noah up onto the exam table with his bag of Doritos then stepped back out of the way. The young brunette nurse glanced at Noah's chart, put some rubber gloves on then smiled at Noah.

"Hi Noah," she said, "my name is Veronica but sometimes that's a big, long word for little guys like you so you can call me V if you want. Is it okay if Special Agent Gibbs holds onto your snack while I have a quick look at you?"

Noah reluctantly gave Veronica his bag of chips then watched as she handed them to Gibbs. He knew it was too good to be true. They were just teasing him with the food, just like his mother had done time and time again. He was trying to eat as fast as he could but it was hard with nothing to drink. His throat was dry and that made it much harder to swallow the chips. The little boy looked over at Gibbs and the bag of Doritos in his hand, wishing he could have just one more. Gibbs winked at him as the nurse stripped him down to his underwear.

As Noah's clothes were removed, Gibbs fought to stay calm and maintain control. His anger would only frighten the already scared little boy and he didn't want to give Noah the impression that he'd done anything wrong. His torso was covered in bruises that were in the shape of fingers and handprints. Welts and open sores covered his back and large carpet burns blanketed much of his chest. The little boy's bones were clearly visible under his skin; each of his ribs showed through and his shoulder blades stuck way out. Despite his battered body, Noah did have a small amount of muscle on his thin arms and legs.

Veronica sat down on a rolling stool so she'd be at eye level with Noah. She spoke to him with a soft, friendly voice and her touch was gentle. She explained everything she was going to do before she did it and, in an effort to ease some of the boy's anxiety, she let him listen to his heart and then hers, she let him tap his knees with the reflex hammer and play with her penlight.

After Veronica had finished assessing and recoding Noah's vital signs, she left to get Dr. Jamison. Gibbs moved over to the bed and fed Noah a few more of his chips, delighting the little boy. He'd eaten more in the short time he'd spent with Gibbs than he'd eaten in the last week at his house. As soon as Dr. Jamison and Veronica entered, Gibbs returned to his out of the way corner and Noah was on high alert again. He sat quietly and didn't put up much of a fight while the doctor examined him. Much like the nurse she was kind and gentle with him but he still watched her every move very closely.

"Ok Noah, you're doing such a great job," Dr. Jamison said. "We're almost done. I just need you to take your underwear off for me. I need to have a little peek under there."

Noah's eyes shot over at Gibbs and he grew visibly anxious. He started squirming around and fidgeting so Gibbs moved over and stood behind the bed in case the doctor needed help. Noah turned around and looked up at Gibbs, hoping the man would rescue him. "Do I have to?" he whispered.

"Just real quick, Bud," Gibbs said. "It's okay. She's a doctor and I'm right here with you. I won't let anything bad happen."

Noah's worried expression turned to a disapproving frown as he looked from the agent to the nurse to the doctor but he obeyed. They were all bigger than him so he knew they could easily force him and he didn't want to get punished for being naughty. As soon as he pulled his underwear off, the doctor saw what he'd been trying to hide. The swelling and bruises clearly told her physical and emotional abuse weren't the only things Noah had been suffering through.

"Veronica, we're going to need to do a sexual assault exam," Dr. Jamison said calmly as she glanced up at Gibbs. She wrapped Noah in a blanket and smiled reassuringly at him then started getting things set up while Veronica left to get the needed supplies. Gibbs stood at Noah's bedside and handed him the rest of his chips.

Noah struggled through the invasive exam, with Gibbs staying right next to him, reassuring him at every step. The little boy's fear of having people poking and prodding at him were manageable but as soon as Veronica got a needle to draw his blood, Noah decided he'd had enough. He started scooting away from her on the bed until he ran into Gibbs' chest.

Gibbs ran his hand through the boy's hair as he stood behind him, preventing him from both falling and escaping. More than anything, Noah wanted the agent to wrap his strong arms around him and take him away. His little body started shaking uncontrollably as soon as Veronica ran the cold alcohol swab over a spot on his arm. Noah decided he'd been brave long enough. The little boy couldn't handle the stress of the situation any longer so he pulled the blanket over his head in an attempt to hide. He flinched when he felt Gibbs rest his hand on his back.

"What's wrong, Noah?" Gibbs asked. "Why are you hiding under there?"

"I don't wanna do this anymore," the boy said, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks.

"We're almost done, Honey," Dr. Jamison said as Gibbs removed the blanket from the boy's head. "You're being such a big boy."

"No," Noah pleaded, his eyes widening when he saw the needle Veronica was preparing. He stood up on the bed, turned around, wrapped his arms around Gibbs' neck and literally climbed into the agent's arms.

"I know, Buddy," Gibbs soothed as he wrapped Noah in a tight embrace. "We just need you to be brave for a little while longer then you and I can go get some ice cream since you're being so good."

"I not good," Noah wailed, "good boys don't cry!"

"There's nothing wrong with crying," Gibbs told him as he ran his hand gently over the boy's beaten and bruised back. "Veronica's going to take a little bit of your blood and you'll be all done; we can leave."

"It's just going to feel like a little pinch, Noah," Veronica said.

Noah seemed to have tapped into a fresh well of tears as Gibbs sat down on the exam table with the boy in his lap. He tightened his grip around Gibbs' neck, not calming at all as the agent swayed gently back and forth. Dr. Jamison managed to free one of the boy's arms and once again cleaned it with the alcohol swab, making Noah scream even louder. While Gibbs held the boy and the doctor held his arm still, Veronica drew enough of his blood to be able to run the necessary tests.

"Okay, Noah," Veronica said running a hand softly over the boy's back, "you're all done now, Sweetheart."

Gibbs pulled the blanket up and covered the back of Noah's head while the four year old sobbed on his shoulder. Hiding under the blanket seemed to provide some measure of security for the little boy and nothing else Gibbs had done seemed to be comforting him.

Dr. Jamison left to make copies of her report for Gibbs while the nurse retrieved a hospital gown and helped get the little boy dressed. His clothes had been taken into evidence and that was the only thing the hospital had that would fit him comfortably.

"I hope you get whoever did this to him, Agent Gibbs," Dr. Jamison said as she handed him a folder containing her report.

"I will," Gibbs said and that was a promise to Noah, to the doctor and to himself. He shook Dr. Jamison's hand and Veronica's hand then turned to Noah who was sitting on the exam table. "Are you ready to go, Big Guy?" he asked wiping the boy's tears and nose with a Kleenex.

Noah nodded his head as he sniffed his nose, his crying once again slowing. He had no idea where they were going next but it couldn't be as bad as where they were. He couldn't wait to get out of there and he never wanted to come back.

Gibbs stood the little boy on the floor next to him and took his hand. The long, stressful morning had been overwhelming for the four year old and Gibbs knew he couldn't handle much more. He grabbed the folder the doctor had given him then led Noah towards the exit.