"Got anything?" Gibbs asked as he came walking into the bullpen.
"I do," Ziva replied. "There is an address of where Tim and Devon were kept when they were kidnapped. Well, it is not really an address. More like directions."
Gibbs sighed, "Where, Ziva?"
"Oh. It is an old storage facility out in the middle of nowhere. It had been owned by the same person for thirty years, but they never touch it. In the report it says that the facility went out of business twenty-six years ago."
"It had been empty for three years when Tim and Devon were taken there then."
"Yes, that would be correct math, Tony," Ziva snapped. She took a deep breath, "I am sorry. I guess I am getting anxious."
"We all are," Tony replied.
"Let's go," Gibbs said, grabbing his gear.
"Go where?"
"To the storage place."
"You don't think the guy would be stupid enough to take Tim back to the same place, do you?"
"No, not the same place, but one like it. Ziva, call the detective that worked on McGee's case."
"Elijah."
"Yeah, have him meet us there. He can walk us through this better then that file can."
Ziva nodded and grabbed her stuff, then she and Tony followed Gibbs out.
Tim was awakened by David throwing a bucket of water on his head. Tim jumped up into a sitting position, then gritted his teeth as to not scream in pain because of his injured ribs.
He spit, getting the water out of his mouth, then ran his fingers through his hair.
"Hello, Timothy," David said with a wicked smile on his face.
Tim looked up at him, "What now?" He asked.
"Oh, don't tell me you're tired of playing already?"
"You call this "playing"?"
"I call this fun." David left out of the room for a moment, returning with handcuffs and a hanky. "You try to fight me, you're only gonna make it hurt worse," He said as he wrapped the hanky over Tim's eyes. Tim wanted to move, wanted to fight back, but he couldn't. His ribs were hurting so bad that even if he did fight back, he knew there was no way he would win.
Now unable to see, Tim felt more vulnerable than ever before. He hated it.
David grabbed Tim's arms, which were badly bruised, and cuffed his wrists. Tim heard a chain being messed with and figured it was David unchaining him so they could go to another room… Cause, Tim remembered, that that's what he did before. Different rooms for different things.
"Get up," David said, jerking on Tim's shoulder to get him to stand. Tim did as he was told, keeping his mouth shut tightly so he didn't groan in pain.
David led him to another room. Tim counted each step it took to get there. 'Twenty-four,' He thought as they stopped.
"Turn around," David said. Tim did so, slowly. He wasn't exactly sure of how much he was supposed to turn. "Stop. Sit."
Tim, very slowly, sat down. He wasn't sure if there would be a chair there or not, but there was.
David uncuffed Tim's hands. However, the relief of being without the cuffs was short-lived as his arms were forced up above his head and re-cuffed.
His heart began to pound. It had been okay up until this moment… Sure, he had been nervous, but not like now.
The chair he was sitting on was quickly pulled out from under him. The force from falling so quickly almost pulled his shoulders out of socket.
He was now hanging there, his knees couldn't quite reach the ground, making it all the more uncomfortable. He tried to pull himself up so he was standing, but being unable to use his arms, and his stomach muscles being so bruised, kinda made it impossible.
David took off Tim's blindfold and Tim took a quick look around the room- at least a look at what was in front of him. It was exactly like the other room, besides the handcuffs hanging from the ceiling.
Tim looked at David's hand as he pulled a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket. He knew what was coming. He knew it was going to hurt. He knew there was ultimately nothing he could do to get away from it.
David lit the cigarette then looked over at Tim, smiling as he looked him straight in the eyes. "I can't tell you how long I've waited to have you back with me."
"Twenty-three years, you idiot," Tim mumbled.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"I wouldn't be making rude remarks if I were in your position." David came up to Tim and placed the cigarette on his arm.
Tim held his breath, holding in his urge to scream.
"I'm impressed," David said, pulling back the cigarette, "You have a much higher threshold for pain then what you used to."
"I was ten then."
"True." Once again, David took the cigarette and placed it on Tim's arm. And again, and again, and again. He kept doing it over and over until there was ten marks on both Tim's right and left arm.
Tim never screamed. He wanted to. A few times he just knew he would, but he couldn't allow David that satisfaction.
Tim could see the anger in David's eyes. He wanted Tim to scream and yell, he wanted it so bad. But there was no way he was gonna beg for it. He wasn't a beggar.
After a moment, Tim started to laugh weakly, "You're just dying for me to yell, aren't you?"
"Shut up."
"You hate that I'm not the same as I was when I was ten. You hate that I won't just give you what you want to stop the pain."
"I said shut up!"
"It's eating you up."
David took the cigarette and put it in one of the previously burned spots. Tim clenched his jaw. That hurt about ten times worse than the first burn.
"Why are you even doing this, David? You could have lived the rest of your life without ever being caught."
David took a step back, "What did you just call me?"
"David." Tim paused. He could see David's whole facial expression change, "Oh, I guess I wasn't supposed to know that. Dev- Evan told me."
David flicked the cigarette onto the ground and stomped on it. Then he turned around and left, leaving Tim hanging there.
"Evan! Evan!" David yelled as he walked down the hall.
"Yeah?"
"What were you doin' going into the room where that boy is?"
Devon looked down at the ground, like a little boy who had been caught taking a cookie from the cookie jar, "I'm sorry, Dad. I just thought he might need some water."
"That's not for you to decide. When he needs water, I give it to him. You don't go near him. You understand me?"
Devon nodded, "Yes."
"You better."
Gibbs, Tony and Ziva met up with Elijah at the storage facility. It was back in the middle of nowhere. Most people would never even know it existed.
They all made introductions and shook hands, then got right to work.
"Alright, so you just want me to show you guys around?" Elijah asked.
"Yes," Ziva replied, "We figure that hearing what happened would make it clearer than reading a report."
Elijah nodded, "Okay. Let's go inside. I don't think this place has been locked in years so we can just go right in."
They let Elijah in first, followed by Gibbs, Ziva, and Tony.
"So, we go down this hallway," They walked for a moment, "And into this door." Elijah opened the door and they all stepped inside. "This is where the boys were kept most of the time. Those iron bars there," He said, pointing to them, "The chains that were cuffed to the boys ankles were hooked onto that. Tim was on the right, closer to the door. Devon on the left. They would sleep in here, drink in here, and try to clean themselves up after… Well, we'll get to that in a minute."
"How long were they here?" Tony asked.
"One week and three days… Uh, there were six dead bolts on the door, which you probably already knew. That's basically all to this room. Let's go to the next."
"You remember a lot about this case," Gibbs said as they walked to the next room.
"It's one of those that you just can't forget. You know what I mean, right?"
Gibbs nodded, "Oh yeah."
"Here," Elijah said, stepping into the next room. "They had a bed set up in here. It's also where the woman, Maria Roberts, was found dead. We think both she, and the man who's name we don't know, slept in here. This is also where," He paused, taking in a deep breath, "This is where Tim was molested and we believe Devon was raped."
"Raped?" Tony questioned.
Elijah nodded, "Found blood on the sheets. It wasn't Tim's and it matched Devon's blood type. Also, by what Tim told us about Devon coming into the room, unable to sit up, and seemed badly hurt but with no bruises… We came to the conclusion that he was raped."
"Why wasn't Tim raped then?" Ziva asked. She knew it sounded like an odd question, but it was a legitimate one.
"Tim told us when they came into the other room to get him, the woman said she wanted to go slower with him. That was the first time he was molested by them. They made him come into this room, take his clothes off and-"
"That's enough," Tony interrupted. He couldn't handle hearing anymore about that. Just being in the room made him feel sick.
Elijah nodded in understanding. "There's one more room. Come on." He led them to the last room and they all went inside. "They had a tin bathtub in here that they'd fill with water. They'd take Tim and push him into the water, then hold him down. Sometimes until he'd lose consciousness. Tim never saw them do this to Devon, and he said Devon never came back to the room wet, so we believe they only did this to Tim. Both boys, however, were beaten in this room. Sometimes together, sometimes separately."
Tony took a deep breath, "My God," He said, shaking his head.
Ziva looked around the room, imagining what it must have been like for both Tim and Devon. She couldn't seem to speak. She was too angry.
"They were tortured," Gibbs said as he thought about all the things that were done to the boys.
"Yes, they were," Elijah agreed.
"So he's had twenty-three years to figure out how to take Tim, where to hide him, and what all he wanted to do to him," Gibbs sighed, "That's just great."
I wanted to update this this morning, but I didn't have time to finish the chapter before helping my grandma with her yard sale.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know :) Thanks for reading and reviewing!