"Kyrie!"

She jumped, her head flying off the pillow out of the peaceful sleep she had been in before…

"Breakfast." Gibbs called up the stairs, his Marine voice jarring her awake.

The fright gone, she collapsed back into bed, her heart rate coming back down to a normal pace. Her room was still dark, only because the papers she had put over the window blocked what would be the normal morning light. She rolled out of bed, a headache immediately greeting her, and she hoped it was just from waking up so suddenly.

"I'm coming…" She called back, but she hadn't been fast enough because her door rattled – the lock the only thing keeping Gibbs from walking in.

"Why is the door locked?" Came the confused voice muffled by the door.

Putting her feet into her jeans so fast she had to jump to keep from falling over, she said, "Because I'm getting dressed." She threw on a random shirt she picked up from the cluttered floor, she called back to the man at the door, "Since when do we have breakfast?" Wrapping her long hair into a bun on her head, she tied it up with a hair tie she kept on her wrist. She grabbed the small bag off the floor and shoved it into her pocket.

She whipped the door open, squeezed out without letting him see how messy her room was – and other things – and pulled the door shut behind her. He towered over her, his grey hair and piercing blue eyes drilling down into her sleepy stare.

He did his little smile – the smile that wasn't really a smile, but to Kyrie, it looked somewhat jovial. "Since it's Saturday and you get to come to the office with me." He answered, gesturing down the stairs.

The sleep hadn't completely cleared her foggy mind, but she knew enough to recognize Saturday. She padded down the stairs, feeling him following right on her heels. "For real? Saturday? Come on. Not one day to sleep in?" She complained, pulling out one of the two kitchen chairs around the table.

He just shook his head. "Nope." And he looked at his watch and did his little smile thing again. "A few hours before you normally get up, though."

He eyes flew to the clock on the stove. 5:03. This time her eyes rolled and she sent him a glance that was much more hostile. He shoved a plate of hot food in front of her.

Well, if you can call this food She thought. A piece of microwaveable bacon and a burnt piece of bread. Just another well rounded American meal. She complained in her head, holding up the hard toast in front of her face. "What is this?" She said, and she felt her nose wrinkle up just a bit.

He turned away from her to grab a cup of coffee from the cabinet. "Eat up. You're gonna need all the energy you can get."

Something about the way he said it made her fear what her day was going to entail even more than just how processed her food was. Taking a small bite of the toast, she was surprised she had any teeth left. With her mouth full, she asked, "What are we going to be doing?"

He just walked out of the door, out onto the porch. That was weird, She wondered, until she saw him looking back at her, and he pointed to the car in the driveway. "Lets go." And he walked off to the car. What? Was all she could muster as she hurried to slide her shoes on her feet, and, her growling appetite propelled her to pull the bacon and leftover toast into her hands before running out the door behind him, not wanting him to get all growly with her for keeping him from the office at 5 in the morning!

She was barely in the car before he had the car on the street and speeding down the road. "Can I get my seatbelt on?" She asked sarcastically.

"Whatever you want." Was his reply.

Why am I even in this car? I'm not a get-up-at-the-crack-of-dawn kind of girl. And why now? After all this time he had been at the office, now he's so concerned about me? And her mind wasn't all that clear yet – and it wasn't only the early morning. She had been drug binging - the first feeling having caught her and enticed her - the freedom from reality had felt so good. The last few days had been a battle just to get up out of bed and go to school. And even at school she wasn't really wanting to be there, and yesterday she hadn't even tried to get up. Her eyes got wide as she had a thought. What if he saw the empty pill bottle in the medicine cabinet? The bottle had been full just a few days ago. Maybe he found it and… Her heart started racing. She still had a half of the bottle still left in a baggy in her pocket. Her hands fingered the pills, and she started to calm down a bit, just the security of having them with her enough to calm her. He would've said something if he had found them. She assured herself.

He had on what he normally wore to the office – a polo and suit coat. And jeans. Seemed an ok look for him, in her opinion.

Now a bit curious about what she was going to be spending her day doing, she asked, "So, what's the plan?" Her voice sounded a bit forced happy - but it was so early – and it was Saturday.

"Just some old paperwork to finish." He said.

She was perturbed. And her voice sounded perturbed. "You drag me out of bed on a Saturday to do paperwork?" She watched his face for any reaction. When she got none, she added, "I have homework and friends to be with." Again, nothing. This time she was a little bit louder, voicing her seeming injustices felt good, "Why today of all days after you haven't been home at all the past three weeks?"

He pulled off to the side of the road, braking so hard her head almost hit the dashboard. He threw the car into park, twisted his body to look at her square on, and said, "Got a call from your principal. Said you played hooky yesterday." His stare made her squirm. And He just kept looking at her.

She said, "Why does it matter?" Finally able to voice how abandoned she felt. "You're never home anyway. Why should it bother you?" She kept her eyes staring back at him, not looking away as she waited for his answer.

The smug smile came back for the third time that morning, "It doesn't matter." He said quietly, and looked back to the road and pulled back into traffic.

She was sure she had won. She made him feel guilty for not being there. Finally. She crossed her arms in front of her, and looked out the window, her own smug smile on her face.

Until she heard the icy words that wiped all the victory from off her face. "Just like it doesn't matter that you'll be sitting with me at work all weekend."

"What?" She exclaimed, before bringing her before cool and collected atmosphere back into check.

"Gotcha on that one, didn't I?" He said,

Her blood was boiling, imagining her entire weekend spent being watched by Gibbs. And she was still hopping mad when they pulled into a nearly empty parking lot. He shut the car off, grabbed his coffee, and shut the door, and she was still sitting in the seat. She was gonna throw as much of a fit about having to be here as she could – she just wanted to get under his skin. But she jumped when he opened the door, and stuck his head in.

He leaned in really close to her face, and said, "We can make this as easy or as hard as you want to." His voice was really low, and she tried to keep from looking afraid.

She rolled her eyes at him, and just looked straight ahead. Her red haired temper began to show. "How's that?" She hissed.

He stood up, and part of her thought that he was going to let her take her own sweet time to get inside. Until he clapped his hands right next to her ear, scaring her so much she jumped. Then he leaned back down and said, "Follow me inside or I'll arrange that you're here with me all day, every day for the next month." And then he finally walked away.

She didn't dare sit in the car. But she took as much time getting out as she thought she could get away with and still be classified as following him. But as she watched him walk ahead of her, she couldn't believe how upset he made her. How did he get under her skin? He made her so mad. She wished she could be back in her bed, under the warm covers, deep in sleep. Instead she found herself sitting at the extra desk in the office, with absolutely nothing to do but sit there and watch him read papers. She settled back into her chair, wishing that she could sleep – but the bright lights from the skylight above the desk blinded her. So she just sat there. Waiting. And watching his smug face every time he looked at her.

Finally she laid her head down on the desk, using her arms as a pillow. She closed her eyes, willing the early morning to leave her and let her ascend into sleep for a few hours. And soon, she was fast asleep, her even breathing not matching the horrendous dreams she was having.

Her mother. Stood. Hands outstretched. Kyrie wanted to run into her arms. Until she saw that her mother wasn't standing on the ground. She was above the ground. The picture started to take focus – it was window. Second story of a building. But Kyrie couldn't breathe as the blackness darkened, the smoke fuming out of the windows, her face was burning from the heat that was coming from the building. Kyrie reached out her hands, trying to find her mother's, and she was just inches away when her mother's eyes grew wide, and a scream echoed from her lips, her eyes piercing a wordless cry for help. And suddenly the whole building collapsed, flames eating through the walls, leaving embers flying through the empty air. Screams still echoed. Kyrie realized they were her screams.