Chapter 3

Author's Note: There's another revelation about James' previous life in this chapter. However, I hope it shows that James is starting to trust Gibbs.

Disclaimer: I own none of the NCIS characters.

Gibbs' first thought was to strangle the bastard who had done this. He yet again marvelled at the kid's ability to talk through what must be a heck of a lot of pain. He decided to take him to see Ducky. James looked worried at the expression on Gibbs' face.

'Don't be mad.'

'I'm not. Not at you anyway. You need to see a doctor.'

'No. I don't do doctors.'

'It wasn't a request.' Gibbs had to remember that, the statement had a lot of effect.

Gibbs opened the door to find DiNozzo there, where they both escorted him down to autopsy. Gibbs announced to Ducky, 'Got a live one for you here Duck.'

'Ah hello my boy - What's your name?' Ducky asked.

'James.'

'You're British! How exiting! A fellow Briton to talk to!' James looked amazed at the ageing man's ability to pick up on this so quickly.

'Uh. Yeah.' At this, Gibbs cleared his throat to bring Ducky back to the task in hand before he launched into stories of his youth.

'He's a patient Duck. He needs examining.' James stuttered but Gibbs glared at him, so he settled for scowling instead. Gibbs motioned for him to sit on one of the steel tables.

'DiNozzo - help McGee.' Gibbs ordered. DiNozzo left the room.

'Mr Palmer, please take these samples to Abby.' Ducky asked.

'Yes Dr. Mallard.'

Gibbs explained that James' ribs were majorly bruised whilst James looked awkward and appeared to be trying to melt into the steel table.

'Yes thank you. I shall examine him now.'

'Right then my boy. Let's take a look at you. Could you please remove your shirt?'

James shook his head. 'Matthew - ' Gibbs warned.

'Ahh. I hate this stupid day. Can't I just lift it up - not take it off completely?' he almost pleaded. Gibbs hated that - it was the most desperate emotion he'd seen.

'James, despite what you may think, I'm not forcing you. But I know you must be in a lot of pain and Ducky can help.' He said gently.

'Dr. Mallard?'

'Yes that's me. Call me Ducky.' he replied, as James continued to consider. He hesitated a few more seconds before looking at Gibbs and repeating-

'Don't be mad.'

James shrugged before relenting and slowly removing his shirt. He had a long sleeve top on, and the reason was obvious. On his left arm was a bandage that had been roughly tied on in an attempt to stop bleeding.

'Why didn't you tell me! I never would have questioned you so long!' Gibbs said, on the verge of becoming angry. James shrugged and Ducky removed the bandage. There was a millisecond of a wince.

'Never mind now. I can help him here.' Ducky said passively. Ducky proceeded to prod James in various places, asked him to stand up and he even checked for a concussion. He declared there was no signs of internal bleeding.

'But my boy, I am surprised how you managed to talk, let alone walk easily, with these ribs of yours. They are not broken but they've swelled up quite badly.' Ducky paused, then continued, 'I'm just going to check his medical records. How about you get some coffee?' he directed at Gibbs.

Gibbs nodded and said to James, gently but firmly, 'Listen to me James. Ducky's going to patch you up and you'll do as he asks. Then he's going to give you something for the pain.'

'I don't need anything.' James argued.

'It wasn't a suggestion. If you're lucky, Ducky might have some tea with you afterwards. I'm guessing you like tea too?' James nodded, sensing his defeat. Gibbs said goodbye to James and turned to leave.

'Jethro?'

'Jethro! That's your name?!' James laughed, it wasn't fake this time, and Gibbs grinned back at him.

'It says here James that you were tested for insomnia at age 6?'

'Yes.' All traces of laughter were now gone.

Ducky printed the paper out, wrote something down on it and passed it to Gibbs, who read it, nodded at James and left the room.

In the elevator Gibbs struggled with his emotions and hit the emergency stop. He hadn't wanted to leave, but he had to get out of there before he said something he may have regretted. The paper had said that nothing was prescribed for James as the clinic thought he was faking insomnia. Bastards, Gibbs thought. Why would a 6 year old fake insomnia? He reminded himself to get Ducky to give him a sleeping pill later so hopefully he could get a couple of hours rack.

'Did you get any sleep last night James?' Ducky asked kindly.

'Trust the record. Everyone else does.' He replied bitterly.

'I believe you.'

James didn't reply, so Ducky thought he would ask the question again later. Perhaps with Gibbs there. Ducky busied himself with James. He cleaned the cut on James' arm before putting a few stitches in it (James eventually let him use a numbing gel to ease the pain) and put a bandage on it. After a while, James realized he had eased up on the questions and relaxed slightly as Ducky reminisced about another patient he'd had. Jimmy returned and cleaned the pipettes - again. Ducky then moved to his ribs, where he applied cooling lotion, before wrapping them tightly to prevent further swelling. As Ducky moved around to check for injuries on his back, James prepared himself for the inevitable question.

'My dear boy! How...'

'Please. Don't.' James asked, looking Ducky straight in the eye.

However, Ducky being Ducky, continued, 'This is serious. Please tell me how it happened.'

'No. Dr. Mallard. Please.'

Ducky gave up. He had a feeling 'please' wasn't something James said very often. Thinking about how stubborn James was he deduced that the welts were a couple of years old. However, he took one last shot at a question.

'Ok James. Last question about this. Please just tell me if these were inflicted by the same person who caused the bruises?' James shook his head, and Ducky continued to chat away as though nothing had happened.

Ducky finished and decided to make tea for them both (he sent Palmer on another errand) and James brightened up. As he made it he asked, 'You like tea then? Is it because it's British or the taste? Or that it contains caffeine? Or perhaps that there's an art to making it?'

'What do you mean, an art to making tea?' James asked.

'Ah, my boy, there is an art to making tea. You need a good pot, and it needs to brew for exactly 3 minutes...' It wasn't until later that Ducky realized James hadn't even answered that simple question. Attempting a psych analysis would be difficult.

...

Back near the squad room, Gibbs realized he'd gone the wrong way to get out of the building. That just reminded him how angry he was as he crossed the through the squad room, past his team who anticipated his need of information.

'Save it.' He told his team, 'I'll be back in a thirty.'

He took the stairs down to get out of the building, needing the physical exertion despite his very slightly dodgy knees. He was desperately trying not to break rule 10.

...

Gibbs returned to autopsy in 28 minutes where Ducky was still talking about his school days as a boy.

'Ah Jethro! I've just been telling young James here about when...' Ducky explained, but after catching sight of Gibbs' face he said, 'But never mind my dear fellow - I shall finish my story another time!'

'James, I got you some clothes. You can put them on now.' Gibbs passed him the bag.

'You didn't need to do that.' James said.

'I wanted to,' replied Gibbs swiftly, 'Palmer! Show him where he can change.'

'Yes sir. I mean Gibbs. Sorry sir.' James surprised himself by following Jimmy, who began telling him how often he showered in the nearby bathrooms. At that, James nearly turned around, but a pointed look from Gibbs changed his mind.

Gibbs turned to Ducky - 'Something bothering you Duck?'

'Oh yes. The poor lad's been through hell and back.' he answered. Gibbs raised his eyebrows - Ducky rarely used words like that.

'Well yeah Duck. He's obviously being abused. I am going to find the bastard who did.'

'I know. But he was being abused before he was abused - if you catch my drift.' Gibbs looked at Ducky to elaborate, which he did, ' There's welts on his back Jethro, They look about four or five years old.'

Gibbs lashed out at a nearby cabinet with another one of his famous phrases.

Ducky frowned at him. 'Temper Jethro. He'll be back any moment. You don't want to lose the little trust you've earnt.'

'I don't think he trusts anyone at the moment Duck.'

Ducky was stopped from replying due to arrival of Jimmy and James. James was clad in a new red t-shirt, blue zip-up hoodie, jeans and socks.

'Thanks Gibbs - this stuff is awesome!'

Gibbs smiled at him and told him to put his shoes on.

'Duck, he needs some painkillers. Or sleeping pills. Just something.'

As Ducky returned with some foil sealed pills he said, 'This should do the trick. These particular painkillers should let him sleep for at least 3 hours.'

Gibbs nodded his thanks and gave James a Gibbs-stare to stop him arguing about taking the medication. After asking James to follow him, Gibbs left the room.

...

James was just thinking about how he surprised himself by following directions again when Gibbs hit the emergency stop. There was something James noticed about the familiarity of the action that caused him to prepare himself.

'Why do you prefer James over Matthew?' Gibbs asked. There was no response.

'Do you have any relatives apart from Jack?'

'No.' James simply said, adopting the technique he used in the interrogation room - staring at the walls. Gibbs was half-pleased they were getting somewhere.

'Did Jack do this to you?' There was still no response but there was a change of tactic - James proceeded to look at Gibbs with amusement.

'What caused the welts?' Gibbs saw it again - the flicker of fear. It was gone in seconds and almost undetectable to the untrained eye. As James returned to look at the wall, Gibbs not wanting to bring back vivid memories, decided to give it a rest. He also realized James had reached a limit, so he hit the stop button and the elevator began to move again.

Back in the squad room, James was introduced to the rest of the team. Considering his attitude, James could also be quite polite. He chatted easily with McGee about computers - who he took a shine to. This surprised Gibbs seeming as he had more in common with Tony. Gibbs let him talk for a moment. He didn't dare talk about the case - he knew James wouldn't miss a thing.

'Hey.' Gibbs said, but not unkindly, 'Let's go.' and he beckoned for James to follow him. Gibbs grabbed something from his drawer before leading James to a conference room.

Gibbs pointed to the sofa, 'Sit.'

'What, more questions?' James asked sarcastically.

'How are the ribs and arm?'

'Shut the f**k up.'

'Lose the attitude.'

'Could be better, could be worse.'

'I want you to take these pills. They'll help the pain and give you a couple of hours sleep.'

'I'm not tired.'

'You will be once you take the pills. You can sleep here but you're not allowed to be left unaccompanied in the building so there will be an agent outside the door.'

'I don't need a babysitter.'

'I know - that's why he's posted outside.'

'I wont be able to sleep with... you know...' James stuttered. Gibbs suspected he wouldn't be able to sleep with anyone close so told him,

'The door locks from the inside. So you can unlock to come and see me when you wake up.' Of course, Gibbs had an outside key for emergencies, but James didn't need to know that right now. James was struggling to find a comeback and by the looks of things not coming up with any decent ones.

'I'm still not tired.' he tried.

'Enough,' Gibbs said, ' Here's some water and the pills. I'll leave once you've taken them so you can lock the door and grab some sleep on that couch.'

Eventually, after taking the pills, James smiled at Gibbs. Gibbs could tell it was genuine this time.

'Gibbs?' Gibbs turned around and looked at James.

'Thank you.'

Gibbs smiled back and left the room.