Everybody Lies, Chapter 6.

"He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost"
- Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare

A sigh escapes his lips as he watches you. You look right back at him, unwavering. As long as he wants to do this, whatever 'this' is - some sort of staring contest, you guess - you'll do it. You aren't backing down, not this time. You backed down so many times before, back when you were still "Their Kate" - that's what you've decided to call yourself, or at least the way you were four years ago - but now you aren't Their Kate anymore, you're... Who the hell am I?

Ari's Kate? Mossad's Kate? Life's Kate? It could be any one of those and so many more, but you want to be Their Kate again. You can't be and you won't be and you know that, but you still want to be.

Finally, he switches his gaze from you to his coffee cup. As soon as he does this you know that you've won. No, not won. Maybe it just proves that you've lost. You've lost who you used to be and essentially who you are. You have lost everything that ever made them like you, that ever made them want to be around you, and that ever made them want them to be your friend. You are lost.

But you've proven yourself. You've proven to Gibbs and to anyone sitting behind that mirror that you are different. Their Kate would have tried to do what you just did, but failed. Their Kate always gave in to Gibbs, always let him win, always did what he said. Their Kate let go of her morals, went against her beliefs, on more than one occasion because Gibbs said so. That's not you anymore.

Because you just succeeded in out-staring Gibbs. The almighty Gibbs who used to be scarier and more intimidating than anybody you knew. You didn't give in, you didn't let him win, you didn't look away. He looked away, he gave in. You're not doing what he says anymore, and morals? You don't have any morals anymore, and you aren't so sure if you can believe in anything, either.

"Look, Kate, I didn't bring you in here to--"

"What was it you wanted to know about?" you interrupt, not wanting to hear him tell you he doesn't want to 'interrogate' you. Or 'make you uncomfortable' or whatever the hell it is he was going to say. You just want him to get to the point.

"I wanted to..." He trails off, his expression unreadable as he stares at his coffee. Then his eyes move up to meet yours. "I just wanted to talk," he says lamely. "I wanted to see how you were."

"You wanted to question me about the mission."

"Not like that."

You scoff. "Like what, then, Gibbs?"

He just looks at you. If the staring didn't prove that you aren't the same, well, he's certainly starting to realize that now. You feel bad, just a little bit, but you can't help it. "What can you tell me about Washburn?" And there he goes, changing the subject. Fine. You can deal with that.

"What kind of information are you looking for?"

"Anything. Motive, personality issues, signs of disorders. Anything helpful."

You shrug. "I don't know anything. He's a soldier, Gibbs. I'm sure there's tons of motive."

"Did he ever say anything to you about killing anybody?"

You rack your brain, trying to think if maybe, maybe he did mention something. Somebody he hated. Somebody he wanted to see dead. You don't know why he would tell you something like that, but maybe, just maybe he did --

The man in front of you looks at you in disbelief. The anger and disgust is evident all over his face. You can't believe you just told him that, you can't believe that you just let somebody else know about something like that happening to you. There are tears in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. You instead focus on the tensing of his muscles, the way his fists are getting tighter and tighter with each passing moment, the fury flashing through his eyes, the way his jaw is clenched --

"I can't fucking believe that," he says, his voice low and nearly murderous. "That's - God, people like that deserve to fucking die."

You just shrug at him, telling him there's nothing anybody can do about it. Michael shakes his head, says there's always something that can be done, and then asks you a few questions.

You answer each of them honestly, or at least as honestly as you can bear to, and then he nods. He accepts your answers, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as the information processes. You just told him about the way you were taken, about how they chose you, about the people who took you. And that rage is still resting in his eyes, but you don't think anything of it.

"Who was the victim?" you ask suddenly, and you're sure that Gibbs can tell you know something simply by the way you changed the subject.

He watches you carefully, but answers anyway. "Petty Officer Rol--"

"No, no, not the name. Name doesn't matter." You sigh. "What's his race?"

"He's an Arab, I think," Gibbs answers. "He was born in New--"

"Family in Israel?"

"Yes." He looks annoyed at being interrupted twice, but he also looks interested and concerned. "Do you know something, Kate?"

"I know that I need to go." And with that, you stand up and dart out the door, leaving a stunned Gibbs in your wake. You run straight to the stairs, hearing the door open up behind you and Tony yell something. You ignore him and take the stairs two at a time. You have to get out of here, you have to find Michael, you have to make sure he didn't do what you think he did...

You push open the door and keep running until you're in the bullpen. You go straight for your phone, go through the contact list until you find the number you need, and press send just as the elevator doors open.

With the receiver pressed to your ear, you're practically begging him to answer as Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, and McGee come closer to you. It's still ringing and you need, need, need him to answer, you need to know...

Tony's the first one over to you and he reaches for your phone. You twist away from him just as Gibbs tells him to wait and you hear Michael say "Hello?" in your ear.

"Hey, Michael, it's Kate," you start, noticing how rushed and anxious and desperate your words are as they leave your mouth. You only hope he can understand you.

"Oh, Toddie!" he realizes. You forgot that he started calling you that, because you refused to let him call you Katie. "Something wrong?"

"I just - has anybody from NCIS contacted you yet?" You glance up at the others, take a step back, and pray like hell that they let you finish this phone call.

"Uh, no. Why would they?"

"Suspect in a murder case, your fingerprints on a gun," you spill out. He has to be able to understand that. "You didn't - you didn't do what I think - what you said..." There is silence on the other end and you can't hear anything but the pounding of your heart in your ears. "Michael! Just tell me that you didn't..."

"I can't do that, Toddie," he says softly. Your breath hitches in your throat and you take another step back. "I told you, didn't I? They deserve to die, there's always something that can be done..."

"Something like that could ruin your life!"

"Something like what they did already ruined two."

Your hands are shaking and you're struggling to get words out, struggling to find words to even use. You can't wrap your mind around it, he was such a good guy and he just wanted to make the world a better place.. Why would he do something like this? Why would he decide to do that? It wasn't fixing anything, it just gave him a place behind bars...

"I'll turn myself in, okay, Toddie?" He cares. He really, really cares about you. You can tell from his tone of voice. He just wanted to help you... "I've got something to show you, too. I'll be there soon, alright?"

"Alright," you whisper, even though he's already hung up and you're practically speaking to the air. You close your phone and let it fall to the ground. They all still stare at you. Waiting.

"What did he say, Kate?" Gibbs finally asks.

"He's coming." You stumble towards the wall, just to have something to lean on. "Don't - don't arrest him right away. Let him... Let me talk to him first, okay?"

"We can't --" Tony starts, but Gibbs cuts him off.

"Okay."

And then you wait. In silence. Tony takes to watching the elevator. Gibbs goes to his desk. McGee and Ziva just stand there and watch you.

You don't want to tell them. But you know Michael will come in, and he will end up explaining, or what he has to show you will have something to do with it and then you'll be screwed. You're trying to prepare yourself but you know it won't work all that well. At least you have the tears under control, finally.

It feels like years before the elevator doors finally slide open and Michael walks in, followed by a police officer. "He says he has a confession to make," the officer says, to which Tony nods. Tony takes Michael by the shoulder and shoves him in your direction, earning a glare from you.

You aren't sure what to say, so you both just sort of stare at each other for a few moments. Then Gibbs intervenes, shouting "We don't have all day!" from his desk. You open your mouth to speak but Michael beats you to it.

"Toddie," he says slowly. Tony looks at him in disbelief, more than likely at the nickname, which already has tears springing to your eyes. "I'm sorry, I was trying to help..."

You nod. "I know, Michael." You really don't know what to say to him, but you tense up when he reaches into his pocket, pulling out something white.

He hands you the folded-up envelope. "I found this in the guy's house," he says. "It's how I knew..." You can see him swallow hard as he runs a hand through his hair. "There's a picture and some letters in there."

"Is it...?"

"Yeah. It's him, Toddie, it's definitely him." A small smile breaks onto his face. "He's alive. I don't know if it's a good thing --"

"No, yeah, it's a good thing." A tear slides out of your eye as you grin at him. "Michael, I..."

"I know." He pulls you into a hug, squeezing you so tightly you feel like he's about to crush your bones. But you hug him back just as tightly as you can, breathing him in. He doesn't deserve to go to prison, not like this.

"I'll visit you. I promise," you tell him, noticing hot tears start running down your cheeks. Why the hell am I letting him see me cry? you ask yourself, but you already know. It's all in the envelope. He was trying to help you. He was trying to make everything seem a little bit better for you. If he hadn't done this, you know you would have been great friends; he already feels almost like a brother to you. You don't know why, but he does.

"I'll hold you to that," he jokes, a smile still gracing his face as you two separate. Michael takes a step back, like he's going to give himself to Tony now, then he stops. "Oh, and Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"They don't plan to." He puts his hand on your arm, rubbing up and down. "I don't know what they're doing, but they aren't hurting him. Probably raising him in father's footsteps, but... They aren't hurting him."

"Thank you," you whisper. "I don't know how to repay you. You shouldn't have to go through all of this..."

He just shakes his head. "I would have wanted somebody who was willing to do this with Robbie and Rachel." You had almost forgotten that his wife and son had been kidnapped and killed. "I would do it over again in a heartbeat. You don't have to repay me."

"Thank you," you repeat. There's nothing more that you can think of to say. The tears are blurring your vision, but you can still tell that he's smiling sadly at you.

Michael takes a few steps back and offers his hands out to Tony, who wastes no time in handcuffing him. Tony forces him roughly back towards the elevator, no mercy at all in the way he's pushing. McGee follows him slowly, sending you a confused and sympathetic but still unbelieving glance.

The elevators open, and Tony tries to push him in. Michael resists, though, turning back to look at you with a disgruntled Tony trying to pull him through the doors. "Bye, Toddie," Michael says softly, giving you one last smile before stepping into the elevator with Tony and McGee.

The doors slide closed and you look down at the envelope in your shaking hands. You can't believe this, you can't believe he's still alive...

"What was that all about?" Gibbs asks as he makes his way towards you and Ziva. You hadn't noticed her since before Michael came in.

You wave the envelope slightly without lifting it any higher than it already is. "This," you say absentmindedly. "It was all about this..."

"What is it?"

You carefully open the envelope, then pull out the photograph Michael had been talking about. A young boy, nearly three years old, stares back at you, an obviously forced smile on his face. You can barely make out the stains of tears on his dirty face, but his green eyes are sparkling with a light you are sure yours no longer possess. His short brown hair looks more like Ari's than yours, and you hate that, but he definitely has your nose and your ears and your eyes. He's big for his age, tall, with skin a slightly darker color than yours and a slightly lighter color than Ari's, and extremely skinny - you doubt that they've been feeding him enough, and that simple knowledge is enough to make your blood boil.

You're careful to keep the picture far away enough from your eyes so that your tears don't get on it. You don't want your only picture of him to be ruined.

"Who is that?" Gibbs asks, and it's in that moment that you realize he's been asking you questions ever since you opened the envelope.

You don't say anything.

"Kate!"

The force in Ziva's voice makes you turn around to face her. "What?" you demand weakly.

"The Director wants to see you," she says, but the way she says it and the way she's messing with her hands lets you know that she's just providing an out.

Everybody lies, and sometimes it's the only way out.