A/N: hey everyone. Thanks for the reviews. First I want to apologize for the graphicness of the last chapter. Believe it or not but I had rewritten that chapter several times before I finally posted it. I edited it as much as I could but if you have any suggestions of how to edit it better without sounding confusing, please let me know.

Well, just letting you know that this story will not be as graphic as chapter one. Also, there are a few things in here that I don't know if they happen the way they do but I just wrote it anyway so bare with me. Thanks. Well here's chapter two.

Disclaimers are in chapter one.

Chapter Two: The Warning

Tim sat up as his clock screeched its annoying alarm at him. He didn't get any sleep at all last night. He tried everything from reading to writing his book to watching TV to surfing the net. He even tried just walking around his apartment for a while drinking warm milk but nothing seemed to work. He just couldn't get to sleep.

Sighing, he turned off his alarm, got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He turned on the water to the shower, stripped off his clothes and stepped in. he winced as the water hit his back, the force of the spray hitting against the bruises that had formed there. Flashes of the day before played through his head as he soaped up his body.

*Flashback*

He had felt so dirty and uncomfortable but most of all, he felt humiliated. His body ached as he dragged himself home. When he got to his apartment, he shut the door and made sure to lock it before going around and locking all of the windows, even though he was on the fifth floor. Then he had gone into the bathroom and showered, letting the hot water burn away all traces of the past several hours. He could feel the bruises starting to form as he washed the cuts clean. The cuts stung from the soap as he washed himself, taking extra care to clean every inch of his body. But no matter how hard he scrubbed, he just couldn't feel clean.

When the water finally started turning cold, he got out of the shower and went to the sink. He grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and spent a good twenty minutes brushing his teeth. No matter how long he brushed, he didn't think it made any difference at all. Finally, he rinsed the brush and set it down. As he looked up, he glanced in the mirror and winced. He hardly recognized the body as belonging to him, it was so badly beaten.

Cuts marred his upper body and several bruises had already formed deep purple blotches on his light skin. For some reason unknown to him, his face remained untouched, as if they had purposefully avoided it. Wincing again, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off before heading into the bedroom. There, he grabbed a pair of boxers and sweats and put them on. Then he curled up in bed and waited for the sleep that never came.

*End Flashback*

Feeling like he was as clean as he was going to get, he turned off the shower and stepped out. Grabbing a towel, Tim started toweling himself off when he saw his reflection in the mirror and groaned. Black and blue and purple blotches had almost completely taken over his skin. Larger, blacker blotches covered his ribs and he winced in pain as he felt the tender skin. Last night, the pain in his ribs had him thinking that some of them might have been broken. Now, seeing the bruises and feeling them throb painfully, it seemed he was right.

Refusing to go to the hospital for fear of the doctors finding out what had happened, he finished drying off and headed into his room to get ready for work. When he finished dressing, he went into is kitchen, grabbed a banana, his work bad, and his keys and headed out the door, making sure to lock on his way out.

When Tm entered the parking lot, he froze, as panic surged through his body. His car was gone. Thinking rapidly, he remembered that he had taken his car to the shop yesterday and had planned on taking the bus to work. However, the panic intensified as he realized that that meant he had to walk down the street to the bus stop, which was just in front of a particular alley he would rather not be anywhere near.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his visibly shaking body as he headed down the street to the bus stop. As he stood next to the sign, waiting for the bus, he couldn't help constantly looking over his shoulder at the innocent looking alleyway. He was so nervous, he didn't even notice he had completely squished his banana until it oozed out of the sides of the peel and down his hand. He tossed the remains into the trash can next to the pole and wiped his hand on a napkin from his jacket pocket. As he threw the napkin in the trash, he glanced at the alley again. It remained empty the entire time he waited but by the time the bus pulled up and he had grabbed a seat near the back, he was practically hyperventilating.

When the bus finally reached his stop, he jumped from the bus and forced himself to relax as he walked up to the gate in front of his work building and approached the security guard.

"Good morning, Special Agent McGee." The man said with a smile.

"Good morning, Nathan." Tim greeted back. He pulled out his I.D. and handed it to Nathan, who scanned it and handed it back.

"Have a good day, sir." Nathan said as Tim entered through the gate. As soon as the gate closed behind him, Tim relaxed a great deal. On this side of the gate, he was safe.

* * *

"McGee, you're late." A male voice called to Tim as he walked through the elevator doors and into the office. The voice belonged to a man who looked to be in his late thirties to early forties, sitting with his feet on the desk and arms behind his head. His eyes narrowed as he studied Tim. "And you look terrible."

"What?" Alarmed, Tim looked down at himself, thinking that he had seen a bruise or something. Nothing seemed to be showing; he looked back at the man.

"You look like you haven't had a wink of sleep all night." He clarified.

Tim inwardly sighed in relief at the clarification and then glared at him. "What do you mean I'm late?" He glanced at his watch as he walked to his desk and set his bag down. "I still have about eight minutes left."

Tony grinned. "Yeah but usually you're the first one here, then Ziva, then me, and then Gibbs. Ziva and I got here before you, so technically you're late."

Tim looked at the desk across from Tony's, which was empty, and then glanced at Tony in puzzlement. "Where is Ziva?"

"Bathroom." Said Tony with a shrug.

Tim nodded and turned on his computer. As it booted up, he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out some paperwork he had been neglecting, feeling that now was as good a time as any to get it done. Plus, he could use something to distract his mind from other thoughts.

As he multitasked in opening up programs on his computer and working on the papers, a woman walked passed his desk and nodded to him. "McGee is here." She said. She had dark hair pulled back in a long ponytail and dangerously dark eyes. Tim still felt a bit of fear around her; she definitely looked like a Mossad assassin.

"Hi, Ziva." Tim said, nodding to her. She nodded back as she sat down, and then narrowed her eyes at him, studying him. Tim shifted uncomfortably, not liking the look she was giving him. Finally he couldn't take the uncomfortable feeling anymore. "Ziva?"

"Are you ill?" she asked.

His eyes widened in surprise. "No, why?" he asked.

She continued to stare at him. "Are you hurt?"

Tim felt his heart racing as he shook his head. Could she know? "No, I'm fine. Is something wrong?"

Suddenly she shook her head and blinked, as though snapping out of a trance. "No, nothing. It's nothing." She turned her attention to her computer but Tim could tell she wasn't going to let it go. He glanced at Tony, and then glanced away when he noticed Tony studying him too.

Just then, their boss, Special Agent Gibbs, walked through the elevator doors with his usual cup of coffee and headed to his desk. As he sat down and glanced around at his team, his gaze lingered on Tim. "You alright?" he asked.

As Tim was about to answer, the phone on his desk rang. Feeling relieved, he merely nodded to Gibbs as he answered the phone.

"So, Boss." Tony said, sitting up and placing his feet on the ground. "Any cases today?"

Gibbs finally tore his eyes from Tim and looked at Tony. "Not yet, but that's bound to change, so don't get comfortable."

Tony started leaning back in his chair but stopped at Gibbs's words. "Right, Boss." The three of them glanced at Tim, who seemed to be staring quite intently at his computer screen as he listened to the person on the other end of the call. "What's up with him?"

"If he knew, Tony, he wouldn't have asked McGee if something was wrong." Ziva said.

"You never know." Tony countered. "He could just want to see if McGee will say it or if he needs to beat it out of him."

"No, Dinozzo, I don't know what's wrong with him." Gibbs said, facing Tony. "If something is wrong, he can tell us on his own. Last I checked, I wasn't his mother."

"Uh, well, uh, I wasn't trying to say you were… um… I just meant…" Tony stuttered.

Ziva chuckled at Tony and glanced at Tim when he hung up the phone. Her chuckle died instantly when she saw his face. His expression looked haunted, as if whoever had called him had told him a family member had died. "McGee, are you alright?"

Tim didn't answer. He just stared at his computer screen, not really seeing it.

"McGee?" Gibbs asked, worry edging into his voice. When he still didn't answer, Gibbs raised his voice. "McGee!"

Tim jumped and slowly turned his head in Gibbs's direction, the haunted expression still in his eyes. His breathing had quickened and his heart thudded painfully in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, then quickly turned and threw up in the trash can next to his desk. He couldn't believe it. They had called him. The men from the alley had called him, threatened him, reminding him not to say anything about the other day. How did they know where he was? How did they get his number? Are they spying on him? Are they watching everything he does?

Gibbs, Ziva and Tony jumped up and rushed to Tim as he struggled for air. "McGee." Gibbs said, reaching him first. He pulled him from his chair and down on his knees, bringing him closer to the trash.

"Is he alright?" Ziva asked.

Tim struggled for breath through his heaving and panic. He slowly took deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. Are they watching him right now? Did they know that he was being questioned by his teammates and his boss? He took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder. They weren't anywhere behind him. Could they be outside? He looked out the large windowed wall. They were too high up for anyone to be looking in without a plane or something. Did they bug him? He started to check but stopped when he realized that if they did bug him and he found anything in front of the others, he would have to tell them how he got it and who put it on him. That would lead to the explanation of yesterday. No, he won't do it, he won't tell anybody anything. He can't.

"Breath, McGee." Gibbs said. "What happened? Who was on the phone?"

Tim used his struggling for air to think of what to say. He could tell them he was feeling sick. It wouldn't be a total lie, since he did feel sick now. Then he can go to the bathroom and find anything they could have used as a bug. But what about the phone call? How was he going to explain that? Maybe he could say that one of his college friends had died? No, Gibbs would know he was lying. Maybe he could kind of tell them the truth. Maybe he could say that someone was threatening cops and had just threatened him? But then they would want to know where he got his information. Well, maybe he can just say it was nothing. That his throwing up had nothing to do with the phone call. Yeah, that might work. It was lame, but he had to say something.

"McGee, what's going on?" Tony asked.

Tim gasped for more air before speaking. "I'm - gasp – okay. I think I'm coming – gasp – down with something. I just got – gasp – really sick all of a sudden." Tim lied.

"What was with that phone call?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, McGee, you looked like you just got a call from you dead grandmother or something." Tony said.

Tim shook his head. "It was nothing. It was just a call about some financial thing, I wasn't really paying attention. I've been feeling sick lately and it went away this morning. It came back doubled just now. I just need to get to a bathroom real quick." He couldn't believe how easily the lies came. He wasn't proud of it but he couldn't tell them the truth. Instead he stood up and headed in the direction of the bathrooms.

"Tim." Gibbs said, grabbing his arm and stopping him.

"I'm okay." Tim said, surprised that Gibbs had called him by his first name. He must be really worried about him if he used his first name. "Really." Then he turned and headed to the bathroom. When he got there, he rinsed out his mouth and then went into one of the stalls. Quickly, he checked his clothes over but couldn't find anything that looked like it could be a bug. Sighing, he exited the stall to find Tony leaning against the bathroom door.

"What's up, Probie?" Tony asked.

A/N: well there you go. I'm trying to post this story as quickly as I can while it is still fresh in my mind. Please read and review and let me know how I did. Thanks.

By the way, this is probably one of the longest chapters I have ever written. I think I have a headache now. Must lie down now.