Disclaimer: I don't own anything from MI-5/Spooks, or NCIS. This is just a story made for my amusement, and hopefully all of yours as well. This will mostly revolve around the NCIS universe, with strong elements from MI-5. There will small elements from Nancy Drew: Silent Spy (which I don't own, disclaimer here), but just bits of the storyline from the game, no actual characters from Nancy Drew will be present.)

Summary: Kelly Gibbs is very much alive, but she has miles of baggage she is carrying, and the ever present danger nipping at her heels.

Pairings:

Evelyn(Kelly)/Lucas North

Gibbs/Jenny

Tony/Ziva

Abby/McGee

Warnings: Mentions of Torture, PTSD, Violence, Language, and Sexual Situation and brief mention of drug use. This is NOT the same as The Girl in Memory. It will share the same basic plotline, and have some similar parts, but it IS a different story entirely.

Thank you Ants nz, Calista Mason, Cavill, Curiouser-and-Curiouser101, DS2010, Fantasyfictionwriter, FourHorses, JrSnape, Lady Isabelle Black, MDDC26, Mary Artemis, RedEyedSurprise, Rianna Hunter, ShadowGuardianAngel, Sir-Tannin, SpecialAgentLeonie, Stars2008, Tehyariddick, adrienmaciel, andrewjeeves, Soccergirl0388, aprilalvinsmith, craftygirl26, joe bob billy bob, jrfan2383, Okaloosa, skeeter88, tammy henson, thedudewithoutaname, x-xLittle-Miss-Brown-Eyesx-x, LeleChaos, KStover, HeartBreaker989, RidingAngelxspy, Sammyangel, CandyHearts22, azreal angel of death, laurabhouse7, disneynut98, BlainX, vampire-lover96-biteme, Safara Bellamy, kendog52361, Funfawn5, daytimesun99, redhouseclan, EmmieRaeJean, emergency70, LegalAddiction20, saji235, Noriko333, rockrose, lucksby92, reader29, jenny14, haeraquill, SnowLeopard167, jayesh, Dreamsb223, Storywriter905, EQfan74, katrin lily, Voldymoldy666, DarkPhantom101, toreadornottoread1, Beam-me-up-life, bedonk, AnonymouslyFanficky, EvilDuoMom, Role with life, Karyn Cartwright, Ulquiorra-Schiffer-4, vblair25, DoodleBugNY, sobreyra274, NiennaFawlivrin, FictionWriter09, Kitten6168, beckybakeroo, RoxyMoxy7625, Ladyofasgard, lyra2908, SMSJES718822, triscell, Seraphis88, MonMonMuffin2714, MarieSeleneArroyo, Green3yedGirl13, Anime-Niakz, RiaReads, VictoriaEther95, WhiterTiger24 and xLyraCharlottex for the follows!

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I would like to also like to thank 'Children of Gibbs' and The Favorite Stories of Kendog52361 to adding me to their community. That made my day.

And a special thanks to the reviewers, DS2010, CandyHearts22, Guest, ljcolic, Guest 2! Thank you all so much! I really appreciate it.

Guest Reviews:

Guest: I'm glad that you like it! Thank you so much! It makes me happy that everyone still enjoys this even though I haven't be able to update on it like I wish I could.

Guest 2: Glad you found the story and enjoy it! :D

Inspired by the song:

"Black Clouds" by Hidden Citizens

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"The Scars On Us"

Punk rock music blared through the speakers in Abby's lab when Palmer walked in with the evidence, and the goth gave him a beaming smile while hitting a button on her computer to lower the volume of her music. "I love getting souvenirs from Ducky," she said, happily taking the box of evidence out of his hands and setting it on the metal table. "What did he send me today?"

"A pair of mud boots and some fibers," Palmer replied.

"Hmm," Abby picked up the petri-dish of fibers, examining with her eyes before moved over to the microscope and she set the bag down to put on a pair of gloves to avoid any and all possible contamination. "So have you heard from Evelyn lately?"

Palmer startled, slightly. "Me? Why would I hear from Evelyn?"

"Because Evelyn and Ducky are like two peas in a pod meaning that she visited the morgue a lot. She isn't the kind of person who just ignores other people. She must talk to you, too," Abby reasoned, her tone light. She placed the petri-dish underneath the scope, and started to twist the dials to bring the image of the fibers into focus on her computer screen.

"Well, she does. Not about important stuff like she talks to Ducky about though. She just usually asks how I am doing, and how my girlfriend is. We aren't so close that she would call me though, especially not about all that's going on," Palmer said, with a little shrug of his shoulders. He nervously shifted on his feet, and fidgeted with the edge of his latex gloves. "It's all kind of exciting, isn't it? I mean, not the part where Evelyn got stab. That was bad, but it all has a very James bond vibe to it."

Abby pulled away from the microscope and gave him a look. "This isn't a movie, Palmer," she scolded him, with a frown. "And it's more like a soap opera anyways."

Palmer nodded his head. "All that are missing are the evil twins, and someone having an affair. Not that I, uh, watch soap operas," he added, with a flustered look on his face when Abby arched a brow at him.

"I bet you're a General Hospital fan," she accused, with a good-natured smile.

Palmer didn't answer, but the tips of his ears went bright red. "Ah, I better get going. I have to help Ducky finish up the autopsy and paperwork," he said, prepared to turn and heel and flee after she so accurately pinned him as a GH fan. He was almost to the door when a serious question from Abby made him stop cold in his tracks.

"Do you think we should be mad? Or have a right to be mad?"

Palmer frowned. "About what?"

"Evelyn lied. To all of us, to Gibbs for months. She built friendships with us, we trusted her inexplicably and then learned not only is she really Kelly Gibbs, but also a former spy that might have been involved in some not so good things," Abby commented, a twist of her lips. It was gnawing at her, the contradicting emotions inside of her. On one hand, she was just grateful that Evelyn was alright. On the other, she was so mad that Evelyn hadn't come to them and trusted them.

"Abby," Palmer scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I don't think I am the right person to answer that. I'm not as close to Evelyn as you all are, and I—"

"Which makes you better at seeing without bias," Abby cut him off, her lips pressed into a thin severe line. "You know Evelyn, but you aren't so clouded by your friendship that you are having trouble making head or tails of what to do next. Are we supposed to forgive and forget? Are we supposed to stay mad and demand explanation? Because I honestly can't decide on one."

"I think…I think this is a situation that you have to look at from a bigger scope. Yes, Evelyn lied and it was a mistake, but she did the best that she could in what honestly looked like an impossible situation. It couldn't have been an easy to hold back the truth because I know that all those friendship, even the one that she built with me, are true and that she cares for all of us," Palmer answered, his tone honest and clear. He looked at Abby with an understanding smile, and clasped his arms behind his back. "And she wants a place to belong, but because of the monsters in her past, she felt like she didn't deserve it. So maybe she kept the lie to punish herself. And don't you think that she's been punished enough without having her friends angry at her?"

Abby was a bit speechless, watching Palmer walk off.

The room was so quiet. It was a recreational room for the men to use when they wanted to unwind, but now because of the suicide, it was empty with not a soul in sight, save for Ziva and himself. His keen eyes looked around the crime scene, trying to make sure it had been undisturbed as the Petty Officer who showed them the way had reassured them multiple times. His phone beeped with an incoming text message, and he pulled out of his pocket, checking it. "Ducky just sent a picture of the victim. Quite a handsome guy—wouldn't you say, Ziva?" Tony commented, holding the phone so Ziva could see it, too.

Ziva's brow shot upward. "Not bad. Considering he's been day for two days," she added, dryly. Her dark eyes then flickered up to the noose that still hung there. "The Admiral must have quite a reach to have the scene tapped off despite it having be declared a suicide, but I suppose if I were in his shoes, I would want to know what happened to someone I cared for."

"Even if all the evidence pointed to it being a suicide?" Tony asked.

"Even if," Ziva nodded, grabbing a nearby chair to stand up on and take the noose down. Tony got an evidence bag, the largest kind they had with them, and she lowered the noose carefully down into it. "If there was even a single chance of foul play, something should be investigated to the fullest no matter what it appears like on the surface. If we did not then that means the chance of a killer getting away, and everyone deserves justice."

"That's quite the speech there, Zee-va," Tony said, after a moment. He drew out her name like he always did to lighten the mood, or annoy her, but it had not effect on her this time. His hazel eyes grew somber with concern, and he studied her tense posture. "Look, Ziva, we need to talk."

Ziva immediately tensed. "No, we don't."

"We are partners. We have to trust each other, and we can't keep things unsaid between us," Tony stated, watched her drop down off the chair. His jaw was set tight, and his hazel eyes were grim and serious. "We almost died the other day. That can change a lot of things, and puts a lot of doubt inside a person's head."

"I don't have doubts. Nothing has changed," Ziva assured him, her tone clipped.

"Then why are you keeping me at a distance?" Tony demanded, sharply. "Ever since then, you haven't been yourself around me. No jokes at my expense, you go out of your way to avoid me when you can and I am just trying to figure out why. Was it something I said? Was it something I did?"

Ziva ran her fingers through her hair, and released a hefty sigh. "Tony, it is not what you did. You hold no blame for my actions. I am the guilty party," she told him, her shoulders slumped. She looked up at him, her dark eyes shining soulfully. "It is my burden. My thoughts and my wants, I cannot share them with you."

"If can't share them with me, then who can you share them with?" Tony asked.

Ziva gave a sad smile. "With no one."

"Ziva…"

"Let's finish collecting evidence. Gibbs will be wondering what is keeping us," she said, ending all chance for conversation. She turned on her heel and started to move around carefully, looking for any more evidence that could prove useful.

Tony grabbed the camera out of the bag, wondering what vital clue he was missing here and why he felt so damn torn up about it.

Morning had arrived, and chased the rain away. Evelyn was in a cocoon of warmth and happiness with blankets bundled up around her, and she hummed in the back of her throat snuggling back into the hard chest at her back. Lucas's body ran like a furnace, and to someone who always liked to be warm, it was absolutely wonderful. A small smile pulled at her lips when she realized Lucas in his sleep had placed a possessive hand on her bottom, and she bit her lower lip to repress a giggle. She didn't want to laugh, and wake him up. She intended to savor these quiet and still moments as much as she could. She laid there so long that she almost fell back to sleep when she felt a sudden shift in the man in her bad, and she felt him coil up tight, a breath stutter through him.

Evelyn sat up, turning towards him. "Lucas…Lucas," she said, pressing a palm against his cheek. Her heart clenched tightly when he flinched back, eyes scrunched shut and his pulse hammering in his throat. He was in throes of a very violent nightmare, and a helpless feeling swelled up inside of her. She needed to pull him out of the nightmare, but touch only seemed to make it worse. It could also trigger a violent reaction, as she knew from experience, and a knot swelled on the back of her throat. Taking a deep breath, she reached out for regardless of the consequences and shook his shoulder. "Lucas, it's a nightmare! I need you to wake up!"

Lucas jarred awake, his blue eyes snapped open with a wild and unfocused gaze. Evelyn recoiled back, startled by the sudden burst of motion and let out a small cry. His head whipped around to face her, and she placed her hand over her mouth. She felt the tremors of his body quake the bed, and her heart ached deep inside of her. She wanted to reach to hold him and reassure him, to ease away the pain and agony etched onto his face, but right now he was like a caged and wounded animal. She would only get bit, and she knew this because she went through the same thing. Whatever he saw in her expression made him throw the blanket back, and flee into the adjoining bathroom. Pulse hammering in the nape of her neck, Evelyn slid out of bed and followed him, her footsteps soundless against the floor.

She found him leaning against the thick glass panel of the shower, staring inside of the large black and white marble tile stall with the overhead faucet spraying down a steady stream of hot water. He didn't make to move in the shower, he just stared at it and his entire body was still like a statue. He was barely breathing, and he held the handle to the shower door in a knuckle white grip.

Evelyn wrung her hands together, and then whispered his name, "Lucas…"

Lucas let out a sigh, the muscled coiled tightly in his back moved ever so slightly. Evelyn walked forward until she was within inches of him, and she waited until she was sure that he was alright with her presence before she leaned into him. "If you want to tell me, I will listen," she whispered, pressing her forehead against his shoulder blade. She ran her fingertips gently down his arms while she stood there behind him, silently willing her strength into him. "I'm here for you. I won't run away."

She felt the breath that shuddered through him, and he felt like he was made from granite, an impassive mountain that she had no hopes of scaling to see the view at the top. And then he softened underneath her touch, in little increments until he was slumped back against her. His hand slid away from the handle of the shower door, and it shut with a soft clap, muffling the noise of the water.

"Sometimes…" He spoke up, his voice rough as if his throat had been scraped raw with sandpaper. "Sometimes, I have nightmares of what happened. Of what Anatoly did to me…"

She waited, patiently. She knew he had to work through this in his own time, and in his own words.

"I just want to be clean. Wash it all away, but then," he said, his throat bobbed with a great swallow. "But then the water from the shadow hits my head. My entire body seizes up, remembering how it felt being water boarded. It is like trading one torment for another, and I am stuck in an endless loop unable to find my way out."

Evelyn felt pain burn through her heart. She knew how being violated shook a person's entire life. It was an act similar to death, but the survivor had to somehow live on afterward. The life that they could have once had, forever altered and changed. It didn't mean that a survivor couldn't live a normal functioning and happy life, but their rape was a scar that remained with them in some way.

"I tried to bury myself. After I was returned to MI-5 on an act of good will from Russia," he spat off, his voice dark and angry. "I tried to bury myself in my work. I tried to force myself back into the mold of the man I was before, and when that didn't work, I looked for fulfillment in other places. I started a relationship with a CIA agent, Sarah, but she was a double agent and had been using me."

"That must have been awful," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair soothingly.

"It felt like I had just replaced Anatoly with her. Another tormentor with a mask, this kind face that I had grown attached to and I hated it," Lucas growled out. The relationship between a torturer and the victim was an intimate one. The torturer would peel the layers back on a person, through painful techniques and offering just a little bit of sweetness in someway to appear benevolent. To earn the victim's trust as twisted as it sounded. A person's mind was like a series of boxes, everything is compartmentalized. But how does one compartmentalize being tore apart at the seams?

It was the mind's way to keep from breaking. It didn't know where to put all these painful and agonizing feelings, and did the only thing it could. It put them in the place of feelings and connection because it had nowhere else to put it. The torturer was essentially the victim's only access to the outside world, the only face in their isolated little whole in most cases. Not unlike Stockholm syndrome.

And the aftermath was the worst. Trying to understand how this connection came to be, and feeling ashamed of it. Evelyn hated that there was a part of her soul tethered to Tarasov, binding them in the bloody hell that he had made her life when she was imprisoned. "What happened to Sarah?" She asked, after a moment.

"I shot her. She was going to kill Harry, and I…" Lucas ran a hand down his face. "I shot her straight between the eyes, and I couldn't stand the guilt of it. I turned my anger towards MI-5. I intended to betray them. In the end, I didn't, but a last second decision isn't enough to put out burning bridges. And the only thing that kept me there had been Maya."

"Maya?"

"I fear I repeated my old pattern. Trying to salvage my past from the ashes. She was an old flame, and I convinced myself if I just made one good thing come the shithole that my life was then it would all be worth it. Instead, I got her killed by convincing her that running away with me was a good idea," Lucas sighed, heavily.

"Did you love them?" Evelyn asked. She hadn't been celibate her entire life, and she wasn't about to judge Lucas for his romantic entanglements, especially when her own were not so cut and dry.

"I wanted to," Lucas said, with a long and ragged breath. "Maya, there had been something there so long ago. And Sarah, I thought there had been a future. Sometimes, I am wondering if I had been fooling myself. A man like me filled with such wicked and dark things is no place to house love."

Evelyn rested her chin on his shoulder. "You cannot see the good in you, can you?"

"Do you?" He countered.

"I know your heart," she said, gently. "It may have shadows, but shadows don't exist without light. It may have been a long time since you have seen it in yourself, but it's still there."

"After all I just told you," Lucas breathed out, "how can you say that? How can you believe in me still?"

"Because, Lucas, if I gave up on you…that would mean giving up on myself."

He stared at her, with this look in his eyes. A look of despair and hopelessness like a person that was adrift a dark and stormy sea with no way to get back to shore. Evelyn shifted, and rose up with his hand entwined with hers. She led him into hot shower, the warmth of the water not as painful to his sense as it would have been if it had been cold. Still he startled, and Evelyn pulled him close to her. "Just feel me. I am here, and you are safe," she whispered to him, taking his face in-between the palms of her hands. They stood there, clothed underneath the scorching hot water wrapped up tight in one another.

The evidence report and medical report were on his desk by Monday morning. Sipping from a cup of coffee so hot that it scalded his lips and left his taste buds numb, Gibbs surveyed the findings with a critical gaze. He dismissed the first findings of suicide from the previous investigation because he didn't want it to cloud his judgment on the evidence before him. The father of the murder victim deserved to know what truly happened to his son, suicide or otherwise. He pinched the bridge of his nose at the end of Ducky's autopsy assessment. The results were that of a homicide. The fractures in the neck were indeed caused by a rope, but were not indicative of a hanging.

Instead, Ducky had found that they were more like that found in strangulation victims. A sticky note pinned on the back of the paper was a hastily written message from Abby saying that she was running simulations to figure out just how the victim had been strangled. The ringing of the phone jostled him from his thoughts, and he picked it up out of its cradle. Pressing it to his ear, he said, "Gibbs."

"It's Evelyn," she said, and he couldn't help but to smile. "I saw you called this morning. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. Just checkin' to make sure you were doing alright."

"Everything is fine. Just very on edge. I just want this to be over with," she confided, her voice very soft. "Sleeping with one eye open is tiresome."

"We'll sleep sounder when Tarasov was behind bars," Gibbs replied. He could see her expression, the blankness that flashed across her features at the name of the man who had tortured and brutalized her. Gibbs already had a bullet with the bastard's name on it.

"I really wish I shared your confidence that we'll succeed in getting him there. He's like a boogeyman, a shadow. I'm not sure he'll go into a cell and stay," she shared, a slight hitch in her voice. "I'm really afraid that this is going to end in bloodshed, and a lot of good people hurt."

"Kelly," he said, his tone firm and quiet, "don't borrow trouble. I'm not going to lie and say that it won't be a possibility, but we have a good team. We have a lot of people on our side, and we will do our damnedest not to let this become a worst case scenario. But anticipating a bad outcome, doesn't mean constantly drowning yourself in fear. You got to hold onto a little hope along the way."

There was a shuddering breath on the other end of the line. "That was…surprisingly inspirational and a bit philosophical."

"I have a lot of time to think when building my boats," Gibbs joked, with a small twitch of his lips. "Promise you will call if you need help. It doesn't matter with what. Anything you need, and I'll be there."

"I will. I promise," she said, her voice wobbly a bit. "Take care. Please be careful."

"Always."

*LINE HERE*

Noon rolled around, and Evelyn had made some chicken enchiladas while Lucas worked on his laptop coordinating with Fornell about patrol formations and searches throughout the surrounding cities, looking for any hint of activity that put them on Tarasov's trail. Her hair was tied up into a messy and wet bun from their shower, and she had found one of his shirt to wear. The hem of it falling just below her bottom, barely keeping her modesty. Lucas looked more relaxed, dressed in a pair of loose slacks and sitting there comfortably in the kitchen. The shadows that had plagued him chased away for the time being. Neither one had brought up what was discussed there on the bathroom floor, and Evelyn felt that it needed to be Lucas who broached the subject. It was, after all, his past.

Placing a plate in front of Lucas, she sat down in the seat beside him just as he snapped the phone shut. "I am assuming everything is still alright," Evelyn said, slowly. She couldn't outright ask about the investigation, since she was toeing a very thin line here. She might have been born American, but she had been a spy for the United Kingdom. If that wasn't a conflict of interests she didn't know what was.

"So far everything seems to be well enough. Other than the mishap with the NCIS agents, Tony and Ziva?" His blue eyes flickered to her for confirmation that he remembered their names right, and she nodded her head. He continued, "Other than that, Tarasov seems to be keeping a low profile though I shudder why. We can only hope that your files on Revenant, and the biological weapons that they intended to use will help us prevent an oncoming disaster."

"No pressure, right?" Evelyn said, with a sarcastic edge to her voice.

The two ate in comfortable silence. Lucas had his arm draped over the back of her seat, his fingertips playing with a strand of her hair. The scene was almost domestic if it weren't for the military grade computer, and guns that sat on the table along with their enchiladas. "You know it occurs to me that I know nothing about your past lovers," he stated, his tone almost idle. There was a playfulness in his deep blue gaze however that gave him away.

"Oh? Why would you want to know that?"

"Well, you know mine," Lucas smiled, slightly. "Seems only fair I know yours."

Popping a piece of chicken in her mouth, she arched a brow at him. "I suppose since it only fair," Evelyn commented, dryly. She was glad that he wasn't emotionally pulling away from her. She knew that what he had divulged to her earlier had been painful for him, but the fact that he didn't shy away from it now was encouraging. "I've had a couple of loves in my life, I guess you could say. One was Deacon who…who was killed shortly before I was captured. We weren't serious, but he was my best friend. If anyone could have claimed my heart, he had a good shot at it."

"His loss must have been a painful one," Lucas said, placing his hand on the small of her back. The pad of his thumb rubbing a soothing circle along her spine.

"It was."

"And the other love in your life?"

Evelyn stopped short, her blue eyes flickered up to him. There was hesitance in her expression, and she gnawed on her lower lip. The other love in her life was the man sitting right beside her, but she didn't want to admit that just yet. The waters between them were still uncertain and choppy, and she knew that they would have to speak about the night she discovered that he had been sent to spy on her. To clear the air between them and finally bridge that hurt, but she wasn't ready. Maybe she was being stupid or stubborn. Maybe she should just own up to her feelings, and take things from there.

But Evelyn never got to the make the decision.

A red dot appeared on the side of Lucas's face, and the sound of shattering glass followed.

END OF CHAPTER!

Author's Note: I know I am horrible. I finally update this story in FOREVER, only to leave you with a cliffhanger like this. But I do have some good news. I have been wanting to start new fan fictions, but have been forcing myself to wait until I got some done. This is one of the stories that I intend to finish up, so that means more updates! Yay! Don't throw food at me please.

Rrs are appreciated. :D