Author's Note: And we pick up from the evil cliff hanger! And the italics in this chapter are flashbacks, so be warned.

Chapter 4:

Jarrett let out a hiss of pain as Ducky attended to his cut on his eyebrow line, dabbing at it softly.

"Easy, doc. That stuff stings." He couldn't help but whine. Tony grinned and he came up behind the blind man.

"And I thought I complained a lot." He muttered, making Jarrett frown. Jonathan had freaked out, finally feeling the pressure of being closed in. Jarrett had been in the middle of a question when the junkie lashed out, sending a bone crushing punch to his eye, making him jerking backwards. Kayla had frozen up, her eyes wide, her hands shaking. As Jonathan took advantage of the situation, Jarrett tried to bring his sister out of her mind daze.

"Kayla! A hand, please? It'd be--" He was cut off as Jonathan's hand crushed his mouth. Kayla lapsed into a state of mind, her eyes wide and sweat running down her face. In her minds eye, it was her instead of Jarrett, and him instead of Jonathan. It felt real. She could smell, see, hear, taste everything. The exact same thing she had endured when it first happened. It barely registered to her when Gibbs, Tony, Kate and McGee came in, guns held. Jonathan had his hand wrapped around Jarrett's throat, his eyes wide in a manic state. There was a gun shot, then everything stilled. No one moved or spoke. Jarrett broke the silence. His hands slammed down hard on the cedar desk, his unseeing eyes bearing into Kayla's.

"I called for you... Why didn't you help me?" His voice was full of acid as he said this, before he turned and walked off, Tony on his heels, ordered by Gibbs.

"I can't believe she did that, though. I mean, she knows I'm blind... I was helpless." He whispered, his invisible gaze aimed at his hands. Neither Tony nor Ducky had anything to stay to the blind man.

Kayla broke through the doors of the NCIS building, tearing off in the direction of the main road. Stopping at the side walk, she looked from left to right, seeing if any cars were coming, and then sprinted across the road, heading for a destination unknown. Just any where away from the pain of shame. She felt horrible for doing that to Jarrett. She had to be the worst sister ever. He was Blind, for Christ's sakes! She should have been able to help him. But she couldn't. All because thoughts of him came rushing back to her, blinding her with pain and excruciating shame. She nearly avoided getting hit by a passing car, and frowned, her eyes narrowing. How dare she do that to her very own brother? He'd been there for her when he needed him most.

She felt familiar, warm hands on her cheek, bringing her back to the present, and causing her to startle. Her arms flung around in a dazed throe, her eyes wide with terror. No! She wouldn't go back there! She rather die than face that! She struggled to get out, and now that she did, she was about to go right back in.

"Kayla! Kayla, calm down! It's me! Kayla!"

"Kayla?" Wide blue-grey eyes sprung up and looked around wildly, only to find that the familiar voice was right in front of her. He was tall, lithe, with crazy dull green spiked, unruly hair and if Jarrett hadn't made her watch Andromeda, she would've never come to the conclusion that he resembled Harper a bit. He was wearing tight black jeans, and a shirt with a doll on it that said 'You left me like a broken doll' and to prove that point, the doll has a crack on his head. Kayla desperately wanted to say 'Give me that shirt', but decided against it.

"Hey, Marc." She said instead. She walked into his suddenly open arms of an offered hug and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"G'da see ya, Kay." He said, pulling back and holding her at an arms length away, looking her over.

"You look good, mate." His Australian brogue washed over her and she knew it was really Marc McCreaux.

"You too."

She didn't know how she got there, but she was. It smelled of antiseptic, and the rooms were sterilized in white. She looked around, her eyes catching onto the IV in her arm, and she let out a terrified shriek. She jerked away from it, tearing it from her arm and feeling the rip of flesh and vein in the process. The nurse had come in, coaxing her to calm down, but she wasn't listening. She screamed, uncertainty making her heart beat so hard it hurt. She was aware of people holding her back, and her throat burning with the strain of her screams, and a familiar voice soothing her but nothing registered. She only saw his face.

She didn't know how she got there, but she was. One hour they'd been talking about everything, catching up and having a grand old time that had actually cheered her up a bit, and now they were in a bar, dancing as happily as could be, laughing and giggling on somewhat of a drunk level. They swayed in time to Faith Evan's True Love, and when it was over, Kayla laughed aloud.

"I'm gunna take a break." A girl had sauntered over and tapped Marc on the shoulder. The Australian turned around with a smile and answered Kayla's confused look.

"I know her." And she nodded, before walking off to the bar, turning around as Marc and the girl began to dance to Toby Keith. She ordered a Scotch and settled herself on a nearby stool. She hadn't even gotten through her second drink when the Bar Tender approached her.

"That man over there," He pointed out a man with scruffy hair and a thin mustache, "bought you a drink." He slid over the Bourbon Vodka, and Kayla gave a smile, but shook her head. "No thank you," and that was it. It wasn't till an hour later did she begin to feel like she was loosing it. Her world swayed in front of her.

They had let her sleep in her own bed now, IV and needle free. A familiar voice would wake her every hour to ask her the same questions, and she retaliated with the same answers. Every time he'd leave, she felt alone, and she hated to close her eyes, because she would keep seeing him. Hear his laugh, taste his sweat, see his joy, feel his touch. Sometimes she would wake screaming and that familiar voice would sometimes calm her, others would be a long and troubled trait. She hated closing her eyes...

Blue-grey eyes focused open, and she struggled with her surroundings. The bed was as hard as a cot, and the blinds were torn. The room was tacky and filled with almost nothing. She sat up, rather groggily, her head throbbing.

They landed hard on the bed, a giggle sprouting from her throat as their hands surfed along each others body, feeling and touching with eager greed. Lust filled their bodies and they couldn't seem to get enough of each other. Lips pressed together in a heated kiss, tongues fighting for dominance and mimicking sex as hands blindly ripped off clothing. Teeth clashing and saliva exchanged, they rolled into the other.

Blinking against the little sunlight peeking through, she glanced down at the blanket that hid her sore body, and thrust it away. Her hips were bruised yellow and blue, and cousins green and black were highlighting around those. Little bite marks and outlines tainted her torso, and her stomach was lined with love bites.

Bare flesh rubbed against the other, and his tongue glided down along the line of her stomach, down to her groin, and she moaned as she arched into the attention it received. Her hands flew through his hair, straggling it, and let out a sharp yelp at the sudden pressure on her hips from the man's hands.

Suddenly, all the things that had happened rushed back to her in a frenzy, and she couldn't hold back the urge to vomit. It spewed over the floor in front of her, splattering against her feet somewhat, but mostly getting the carpet. Her stomach churned at the thought of what had happened, and before she could think anymore, she had dressed and left the room. Who ever had done that had left her in a hotel room, too. How humiliating. Her day didn't get any better when it started raining. And she had to walk back, too. Fucking b-e-a-utiful. Isn't that just wonderful. But the time she reached home, it was noon. And she had woken up at 6. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She was greeted by a more than angry Jarrett. It was as though he could smell her. Their eyes met, even though Jarrett couldn't see, but it was as if he knew it was her.

"Bůh zpropadeně, Kayla, kde člen určitý do prdele mít tebe been? Do prdele, proč didn't tebe čerpat!" He always spoke Czech when he was pissed. This was one of those times. She sneered at him.

"I was with Marc." She said, her voice exuding sarcasm. Jarrett shut up.

"You saw Marcie?" He asked, this time softly. She nodded, before correcting herself.

"Yeah. He looked a bit skinny, but it was Marc." She said quietly, and Jarrett's face seemed to grow a grin.

"We should go ride sometime." She silently agreed. Jarrett led her inside, but unfortunately it was into a wall. His hands flew up to cover his mouth, dull blue eyes wide.

"Oh god! I'm sorry!" He said, and Kayla opened her eyes from ignoring the pain.

"Whatever." They still had their job to go to later that night.

That night at said job, Kayla noticed that Jarrett had developed purple markings under his eyes, and felt guilt. He was tired, and she bet anything he was up the whole night crying, along in that hotel room, worrying himself three weeks to Sunday. Poor guy. But oddly, she almost didn't feel sorry for him, even though it was her fault.

She had become isolated in her own world, barely registering what was going on around her. It was like she was on auto pilot, letting life go by her in a blur. She would think to herself that the familiar voice had gone through something similar, yet he was so strong despite the fact. And she was weak and sobbed. It made her sick. She couldn't even shut her eyes...

Kayla woke from a deep sleep, bolting from her bed and reaching for her piece that she kept underneath her pillow. She looked around the small space that was her bedroom. Beads of sweat traced down from her forehead in an uneven path and dropped into her wild eyes, causing her to blink several times, trying unsuccessfully to rid herself from the pain of the salty liquid. She heard no noise and cursed explicitly to herself, her eyes returning to there normal deep gray-blue.

"Get a clue you damned fool, there's no one here. It's just you and Jarrett, you know, your blind brother." Kayla walked over to her dresser draw and pulled out her bottle of scotch from Scotland. Jarrett didn't know that she had it but she never really drank anymore. Only when she was stressed. Dammit all. She was fucking stressed enough. She couldn't take all of these nightmares anymore. The moment she closed her eyes, it all appeared to her once again. Everything that had happened that night. And then it was like a sequel when she would dream of the months that followed after that night, and what had happened to her. Taking a gulp from the fiery liquid she winced as it burned a trail down her throat. Taking two more swigs from the bottle she gasped and placed it back in her drawer. She felt dizzy but more calm, more in control of her jumbled nerves. She sank down onto her bed and breathed deeply. Tears streaked down her face and she couldn't keep it all inside anymore. She knew what she had to do. And she knew that it could ruin everything for her and Jarret. But she couldn't lie anymore. She had to come out with it. She could live a lie no longer. With that resolve firmly in place, she left her bedroom on silent feet and padded into the living room, seating herself on the couch and pulling her legs up underneath her so that she could get comfortable. Kayla just sat there, caught up in her thoughts and rambling emotions that just kept on mixing and tangling themselves up into an impossible knot, right at the core of her heart.

"Kaywa?" Kayla's head shot up at the childish nickname.

"Jarrett! What are you doing up?" She suddenly felt guilty and a pang course through her. Jarrett walked towards the sound of his younger sister's voice. He had one hand rubbing the sleep from his eye like a little kid and the other feeling around him to make sure that he didn't hurt himself. He bumped into a chair and a table before reaching her. Kayla just stared at him, in awe of what was going on. He sunk onto the couch tiredly and curled up, his head resting in Kayla's small lap.

"Jarrett? Why are you awake?" She asked once again, her hand automatically going to her brothers messy mat of hair, smoothing it our gently. Jarrett mumbled something sleepily that she couldn't quite understand.

"What?"

"'Woke up 'cause I heard crying. Wanted to make sure you were alright." Within moments Kayla heard soft snoring, signaling that her brother was once again sleeping soundly. Tears clogged Kayla's vision and in a flash she remembered this morning, waking up in that hotel bed, clothing torn from her body, and angry marks marring her body, mainly her thighs. She winced as she felt Jarrett's arms snake around her waist, hugging her tightly and putting force on a large bruise she had on her hip. She didn't move though. Jarrett was tired and she was all ready ashamed for waking him up once. The purple smudges under his eyes proved his fatigue. It still hadn't gone away. She allowed the tears to flow freely down her face. Knowing that all the happiness that she and her brother had found here in Washington could very well end tomorrow. And she found herself thinking about the team. Tony and Gibbs flashed before her eyes and she smiled at the image in her head of Tony saying something stupid and then wincing at the hard contact at the back of his head as Gibbs's hand swatted automatically. Abby and Kate, both great people, with the most amazing hearts. Ducky. What could she say, he said it all for her! She would miss they're long conversations if this all went down wrongly. And McGee. A fresh onslaught of tears fell from her eyes to cascade in a shimmering river from her face to waterfall onto her brother's smooth hair. She was really going to miss him. She remembered the day that they had both met and had to choke back a sob at the happy memory. It was times like these that Kayla McCleaven wished that things could be differently in her life. It was times like these that she wished Rick had finished the job that he had started out to do that fateful night. When she had lost everything. Gathering her thoughts, she came to a decision.

She only spoke with the familiar voice's dog rather than her psychologist, and the best part was, the dog was better than the psychologist because it didn't understand a word she said. But she began to feel like she was going crazy. It was that night when she tried to finish it, everything. Herself, her horrible life, that she and the familiar voice shared a stronger bond than ever. The familiar voice caught her. They talked, and the familiar voice confessed how he too wanted to end everything when the suspect had gotten him and played him like a broken doll, but how he had a reason to go on, and wasn't ready to give in to the fact that moping was the best thing to do. It was to go on and continue to protect what you really care about. It was like taking chances for the things you cared about, the familiar voice claimed. And she wasn't afraid to close her eyes again.

Bullpen

Kayla watched everyone through the day, watching out they interacted, and silently debated when a good time to come forth was. When the gang was present. She glanced over to Kate and Jarrett, who were engaged in a heavy conversation, but she couldn't hear what about.

Kate shot a glance over at Jarrett's sister.

"She's acting weird." She finally said, and Jarrett made a non-committal noise in his throat.

"Those are the times when you need your eyes to see, hun." It was a habit Jarrett had to call all the girls he knew 'hun' now, and neither Abby nor Kate declined to that preference. It was quite adorable, really.

"No, no. You can hear it in her voice, too. Now, unless you're deaf, you really don't understand your sister well enough." This made Jarrett stumble with his coffee, spilling it over his crotch. He gave hiss of pain, but nothing further. The heat spread to his bad thigh, and he shut his eyes in a wince.

"Actually, I understand my sister very well, thank you very much." He said, a little under a growl, making Kate giggle at how foolish he sounded. A small noise of someone clearing their throat caught their attention, and everything seemed to focus of Kayla. The young, petite girl seemed somewhat nervous, but more frightened. Tony frowned, and Gibbs sat stoic, his eyes never leaving his work, but that didn't mean he didn't hear the young woman. McGee had stopped writing, even though his pencil was posed to. When Kayla spoke, the tone told Jarrett everything his sister was about to confess.

"Guys, I need to tell you something."

TBC...

A/N's: First, translations:

Bůh zpropadeně, Kayla, kde člen určitý do prdele mít tebe been? Do prdele , proč didn't tebe čerpat! - God dammit, Kayla, where the fuck have you been? Fuck, why didn't you call!

Another Cliffie! And omg! We finally got it done! WHOOO! ((parties with Sexc before kissing her)) Fweee! We got sit done. ((dances the Squee Dance)) Yeah, enough celebrating lol. Sorry for the delay and the shortness of it, I've been lazy, and omg guys, get this: I got a detention for being Bisexual. Our school is so homophobic, is sad. Who agrees with me? Yeah. Yeah, so, the reason for all the angst is because right now, Jarrett is like the Resident Puppy Slut, getting all the attention. So, some mystery to Kayla thrown in their and the perfect crime! Eh? Eh? Who agrees with me? I'm starting to sound like Sexc now, eh? lol sorry. Feedback would be lovely, my little reviewers! And who knows? We may even post a new chapter early!