Author's Note: To the reviewer alix33, I think I may have misread your review. It was kind of hard to tell what you meant in your response. If that Crap! Was meant in a "Holy Crap, that's terrible that that happened to Sarah" then I am sorry for the message I sent you. Given that meaning behind your review, my message was rude. If you meant Crap! In a "Those paragraphs were crappy writing" way then I don't think that my message was all that rude and I would appreciate it if you didn't give me anymore nasty reviews. ~irishchic799

~~~~~NCIS~~~~~

The short ride to the hospital was silent. Tim gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that his knuckles turned white. Sarah sat staring out the window, watching the suburban streets pass by.

The parking lot at emergency room was fairly empty. So the NCIS agent easily found a spot to park his Porsche. Once the car was in its spot, the two McGee siblings exited the sports car and slowly walked towards the automatic doors.

"Why don't you wait here while I go talk to the nurse," the elder of the two suggested quietly to his younger sister. She simply nodded and went to a seat in the corner, away from the few other patients (mostly drunk and/or high homeless people) that were also in the waiting area.

"Excuse me," Tim said to get the triage nurse's attention. When she looked up from the computer she was clacking away on, he continued, lowering his voice for privacy's sake, "My sister needs a rape kit done and I was hoping that, maybe, there was somewhere private that we can wait for the doctor."

"Of course," the young nurse replied, paling slightly when she heard what the man's sister had recently experienced. "If you can just wait a minute, I'll find you a room and get a doctor to come as quickly as they can."

Tim nodded his thanks and went back to Sarah. He sat beside her and covered her smaller hand with his larger one where it rested on the shared armrest.

True to her word, the triage nurse returned quickly and gestured for the brother and sister to follow her. The two McGees did. One of the drunks yelled something about cutting in line. Sarah stiffened but her brother's arm made its way around her shoulders and the continued to follow the nurse.

She led the pair to the private room. She instructed Sarah that she would need to change into the gown set out for her on the gurney and that the doctor should be in momentarily.

"Let me know when I can come back in," Tim told his little sister before stepping outside so that Sarah could change.

A few minutes passed before Sarah reopened the door to the exam room and allowed her brother back in. They sat in silence, Sarah on the gurney and Tim in an uncomfortable chair, while they waited for the doctor to come. Ten minutes passed before the doctor arrived and Tim had to leave once again so Sarah could be given a sexual assault exam.

The exam, Sarah felt, was very similar to the reason for it. Of course, it was a doctor and a nurse trying to help her, not someone intent on hurting her and they were collecting evidence rather than creating it but that didn't change the fact that she felt so exposed and violated. She wanted nothing more than for this to be over. Each photo taken of a bruise or swab taken for fluids felt like a punch to the stomach.

Sarah closed her eyes tight and didn't reopen them until a very kind older black nurse said, "It's over, honey."

"Can you get my brother?" she asked, sounding, the nurse thought, much younger than the 22 years she had lived.

"Of course," the woman agreed in a soft voice. She went out the door but instead of Tim coming in, the nurse returned.

"Your brother said that he would come back in in a couple of minutes so that you can change into these," she informed the girl on the gurney.

"Thank you," Sarah replied in a near whisper as she accepted the sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.

"Don't you worry about it, sugar," the kind nurse told her patient as she patted the young girl's shoulder on her way out of the room.

Sarah quickly changed into her borrowed clothes. A few moments later, there was a light knock on the door that Sara recognized as her brother's. She called for him to come in and he did.

"I got you a Dr. Pepper," Tim said quietly, a bit of his poorly concealed sadness seeping through in his voice. "I figured you would be thirsty."

"Thanks," she answered. "I am."

As Sarah twisted the cap off the bottle until there was the tell-tale crack of the seal breaking and took a drink, the elder McGee spoke up again.

"Sarah," he said seriously, "there are two police detectives outside. They need to take your statement and make a report. Can they come in?"

The younger McGee child was silent, an unreadable look on her face. When Sarah didn't speak for several minutes and her eyes began to grow shiny, Tim spoke again.

"You don't have to make a report, you know," he told her quietly, "but I know that lots of women who don't report their rape end up regretting it."

"I want to report it," Sarah was adamant. "I'm not going to let him get away with wha-what he did to me. It's just-" Sarah stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath as if she was going to continue. When she didn't, Tim decided to do a little digging.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to get to the root of the problem so that he could do his best to help his little sister.

"I don't want to tell some random police officers everything that he did to me," the 22 year old answered.

Tim was at a loss for what to say. He seasoned law enforcement officer but he still had no idea what he could do or say to help her. Or was there?

"I could get it transferred to NCIS," he offered. "Technically, you are still a Navy dependent because of Dad. NCIS handles cases where the victim is a Navy dependent. I could get my team to handle it."

"Thanks, Tim, but I think that would be worse," Sarah admitted. "They'll see all those pictures that doctor took and I don't really want your friends to see that much of me and to think of that any time they see me."

Tim could understand that.

"You can let the detectives in," Sarah sighed. "I just want to get this over with."

Tim complied with his sister's instructions. The NCIS agent stuck his head out the door and a second later pulled it back in, holding the door open for the two detectives.

Both detectives were men. One was older, looking to be around fifty-five or sixty while the other seemed to be a few years older than Tim. Sarah wished that they had sent a woman.

"You'll stay with me," Sarah inquired softly, "right, Tim?"

"Of course, Sarah," he promised, walking over to the bed Sarah occupied to sit with her sister so he could sit next to her and offer whatever support he could.

"Hi, Sarah," the older detective said, "I'm Detective Markham and this is my partner, Detective O'Reilly. We're here to take statements from you and your brother so we can make a report and catch the man who hurt you."

"Ok," Sarah said quietly, looking down at her hands as she spoke.

"Alright, Sarah," Detective O'Reilly began, pressing the record button on the tape recorded he was holding. "Can you tell us what happened to you?"

The dark haired head nodded. It took the soon to be college graduate a moment but she began to share her scary, painful story.

"There's this used book store that I like to go to sometimes, Once Upon a Time. There aren't usually too many people so a lot of times I go there to study or write. A week and a half ago, I was writing a term paper when this guy came over to where I was sitting and started talking to me about one of the books I was using for my paper."

The young victim paused. She took a slow, deep breath and reached for the bottle of Dr. Pepper. After taking a drink of the caffeinated beverage, she took another deep breath and continued.

"We talked for almost an hour," Sarah informed the detectives and her brother. "He was and he was…well, he seemed nice, so when he asked me out, I said yes. I had my term paper to finish that weekend and my last few classes he next week, so I told him we couldn't go out until tonight, well, I guess last night."

Sarah paused again. Telling the police detectives about what had happened to her was hard. Telling her brother was harder.

"Do you need a break, Sarah?" Detective Markham inquired gently.

"No," she insisted, even as her eyes began to tear up once more at the thought of what happened to her.

Tim reached one of his arms around Sarah's shoulders and squeezed her into his side, hoping that, in some way, he was comforting his little sister.

"He to me to Meiweh Restaurant on New Hampshire," she continued. "Then we went down M Street a few blocks to the West End Cinema. We saw Iron Man 2." Another deep breath and a squeeze from her brother were what Sarah needed in order to keep going.

"After the movie," she sniffed as more tears filled her eyes. "We went back to my apartment. I have a studio in a building owned by my school, Waverly University.

"He walked me to my door. When we- when we reached it, he kissed me goodnight."

Sarah felt her brother tense and take in a sharp breath of air. Tim was trying to keep himself together, Sarah knew. Her big brother had always been a sensitive soul; she'd known that for as long as she could remember. It had bothered their father that Tim was so sensitive but it was one of the things Sarah secretly liked most about him. That part of Tim's personality was what made him such a good big brother. It made him loving and kind and protective and someone she would always be able to look up to.

"After he…kissed me, I got out my keys and opened my door. I heard footsteps and I thought he was leaving but then he-"

Sarah broke off yet again. Her throat closed up and her dark brown eyes began to fill with unshed tears.

"It's ok, Sarah," Tim whispered in her ear as he hugged her.

"Take your time," Detective O'Reilly to the young victim.

"He grabbed me from behind and cover my mouth with his hand," Sarah told the three law enforcement officers. The tears that had been collecting in her eyes began to fall as the story reached its apex.

It made Tim's heart hurt to hear his baby sister tell the terrible tale of what had happened to her only hours ago.

"He shoved me in the apartment and closed the door," Sarah divulged through her tear clogged throat. "I tried and tried to get him to let go of me. I scratched and I did every…" She choked up again, letting the feelings of guilt and shame at not being able to defend herself against the attack overwhelm her momentarily. "I did everything I could but he still wouldn't let me go."

Tim felt more tears well up and break the surface tension that help them within the confine of his eyes. The salty droplets made their way down his pale cheeks and fell into his lap. Swiftly, Tim wiped the tears away and refocused his attention on his sister heart wrenching story.

"He told me if I screamed he would kill me and pulled out a knife to prove it. The he let go of my mouth and started pulling off my clothes." Those words were followed immediately by a sob and the sob led to yet another tight hug from Tim.

"He, um, pushed me down onto my bed and p-pulled down his pants and boxers. He put on a condom and then he, uh…" Sarah trailed off, unable to go on.

"I'm sorry, Sarah," Detective Markham said morosely, "but I need you to say exactly what happened. We need to do everything carefully and by the book so that there's no chance of this case not following through."

The 22 year old nodded. She took a deep breath and, shakily, she continued.

"He…raped me and when he was done, he left my apartment," Sarah uttered, her pain palpable. "I waited for a while to make sure he was gone and then I got a cab and went to my brother's. We talked for a little it and then we came here."

"Ok, Sarah," the older detective said. "Now, I know that that was very hard but I need to know his name. Can you tell me that?"

"Dylan Mitchell," Sarah spat angrily. Tim was glad to see that his little sister still had her fiery temper. He'd been praying that despite this horrible ordeal that Sarah would still be herself eventually. That angry lilt in her voice was a sign that, even though Sarah had just endured a painful and terrifying assault, it had not crushed or broken her. What made Sarah, Sarah was still there underneath all pain and fear and shame she was feeling.

"I have his phone number, too," she told the detectives. The young woman grabbed her cell phone and, after pressing a few buttons, held it out to them. "Here."

While Detective O'Reilly copied down the number, Detective Markham spoke up.

"Thank you for telling us what you did, Sarah," he said. "Do you think you're up for doing a sketch of him? We can wait if you need to but the sooner it's done, the better so that the defense doesn't try to call your sketch into question."

"I can do it now," the tenacious brunette said, wiping the last remnants of tears from her eyes. "I just want to get this over with."

"Well, I'll stay in here with you and make the sketch," Detective O'Reilly said, "while your brother goes with Detective Markham to make his statement."

Both McGees agreed and went their separate ways. Sarah was able to give a good description of her rapist and Tim gave his statement with much better detail than the average witness due to his law enforcement experience.

Once the police had finished and said they would be in contact the moment anything happened with the case, Sarah and Tim left the hospital. The brother and sister than prepared to start the rest of the worst night either of them could ever imagine.