A/N Hey guys, did everyone have a nice christmas?

Alright,first off, I'd like to apologize for it being so long since the last chapter, but with christmas and revision, I've barely had time to sleep never mind anything else LOL :)

Disclaimed: I dont own NCIS, and any characters that you recognise are simply borrowed for a while :)

Please Please PLEASE R+R because I really would like to hear people's opinions/suggestions/ideas/criticisms about this :D

Ok, I'm going to shut up rambling now and just let you all just read it haha

Thanks again,

xoloveJBox

Chapter two.

It was almost five am when the team pulled up outside of the apartment building that housed Tony and Lana's home. When they had decided to go and see what evidence they might be able to retrieve, Gibbs had tried desperately to make Lana stay at NCIS, but she had simply given him a look that said 'that's not going to happen', and clambered into the car with everyone else.

"Lana, you're car's here." Tim observed, surprised, when he saw Lana's battered red truck.

"Of course it is Tim, where else is it going to be?" Lana replied, quietly, wondering what returning to the apartment would show them.

"I thought you went Gibbs?"
"I did." Lana answered simply, not completely sure when Tim's thought process was taking him.

"Well, how did you get there?"

Lana had to stop and think for a minute before answering. Though it had only been about two and a half hours, it felt like days since Lana had woken up on the kitchen floor, blood sticking her hair to her face, her fingers feeling like white hot thorns were being continuously stuck into them. It had taken a few minutes of calling for her to realise that she was alone in the apartment, and less than a second after that to know that it shouldn't have been like that.

"I ran." She finally answered, shrugging her shoulders casually.

Tim stopped in his tracks, mouth slightly agape.

"You ran? That's all the way across town."

"I couldn't find my car keys." She admitted, though it was not the whole story. After she had realised that Tony was gone, and her mind had unfuddled the events of the previous few hours, Lana's brain had immediately told her to go to Gibbs. She had spent a few minutes frantically searching for her keys, but then she started listening to the logical part of her brain that had told her that she couldn't drive because she had hurt her hand. She had looked for the keys for another minute or so, before eventually giving into reason and taking off down the stairs. She had not really thought about where she was going as she ran; only that she had to get to someone. Lana had only begun to slow when rain started to fall, stinging her face and bare arms as she moved.

However, Lana didn't feel like sharing that part of her morning with her colleagues, despite their badgering for more details. She had come to the conclusion that it wasn't relevant, so she kept it locked inside her own mind, burying it with other things that had been deemed unimportant.

The four of them-Lana, Gibbs, Tim and Ziva- rode the elevator in silence, none of them really feeling like talking.

When they reached the apartment door, it didn't matter that Lana didn't have her key; the door was open a little bit anyway. She could vaguely remember pulling the door closed behind her, but she couldn't recall hearing the click of the lock. If anyone else had looked at the door, they wouldn't have noticed that it was open; Lana only knew because Tony had warned her straight away that it might look closed and not be, so to be careful of leaving it open. Lana took a deep breath, and pushed open the door, peering inside before entering. None of the others really knew how they were supposed to act around Lana, so they simply let her lead them into the apartment, not wanting to argue with her.

Inside was utter chaos. They almost tripped over the wooden kitchen chairs that had been broken up and thrown into the hallway. Books had been strewn across the entire apartment, hundreds of loose pages littering the floor. The mirror that had hung in the living room had been smashed, and the pieces lay underneath. The couch had been upturned, and the TV looked like it had been hit with something, the screen having a hole in it.

If Lana had thought the living room was bad, the kitchen was worse. The dishes that Lana had been in the middle of cleaning were all in fragments on the floor, a few of them remaining in a considerably large puddle of blood. At seeing the red in the ground, Lana's hand instinctively went to the cut on her forehead, knowing that it was where it had come from.

"What are you thinking Gibbs?" Tim asked, noting the look of concentration on his boss's face as they all looked around.

"I'm not sure." Gibbs replied, his eyes flickering to Lana who looked at him expectantly. "Maybe a robbery turned sour."

"No," Lana answered quickly, "Nothing's missing."

"Lana," Ziva called from the other side of the room, near the dining table, getting everyone's attention. "Look at this."

Lana immediately went over to Ziva, to see what it was she was looking at. When she saw an immaculately white envelope with her name written in perfect cursive handwriting, Lana snatched it up and tore it open, not even thinking about the evidence that might have been pulled from it. She quickly read the words, as there were only a few, and Gibbs went cold as Lana's face paled.

"Lana," he said, taking a step towards the girl. "What does it say?"

Lana chocked out a violent sob before speaking.

"It says," she stuttered " 'The game's only just beginning.'"