BIG A/N: I am such an anal retentative dork, lol. I re-read thru my chapters and realized I made at least 3 continuity errors. So I've gone back to change them so that everything makes sense.
"Ziva, sketch and shoot the apartment," Tony started spatting out orders. "McGee, bag and tag anything that could remotely pin down the bastards who did this. Ducky...you know what to do."
"Yes, I do, unfortunately," Ducky replied, pulling out his sampling bag, and beckoning Jimmy to his side. "Mr. Palmer, get a core sampling of the blood. Hopefully we can rule out that it doesn't belong to Abigail."
"Yes Doctor," Jimmy replied solemnly.
"I'll lockdown and secure the hallways and talk to Abby's neighbors. Maybe they heard something," Tony said, heading toward the hall. "Yell out if you see anything."
McGee pulled on a pair of latex gloves, biting back the sick nausea threatening to take over. He had to focus on the job...he had to remember that he was an NCIS senior agent investigating a crime scene. Not his girlfriend's apartment with her blood on the floor, and with her no where to be found.
He grabbed a large evidence bag, shook it open, and walked slowly toward the front door. Kneeling down, he carefully picked up a pale blue, Chinese pattern lamp...his Christmas present to her just a few months ago...and his stomach dipped once again when he saw a distinct blood spatter on the bottom corner. He had seen Ziva snap a picture of it as they entered, so it was clear to bag.
Sealing it up in the evidence bag, McGee took it over to Jimmy. "Here," he said, handing it to him, "there's another blood sample on this. Put it with the rest."
Jimmy looked up and gave a quick, sad glance at the bag. He recognized the lamp...he had helped McGee pick it out. "Sure, Agent McGee, I'll take care of it."
McGee gave a small nod of gratitude, then left the living room on his way to Abby's room. He met up with Ziva, who was just coming from taking snapshots of the destruction inside.
Ziva reached her arm out and stopped McGee and whispered to him under her breath, "You okay?"
McGee sighed, finally able to release some, albeit small, emotional energy. He then wispered back, "No, but I've got a job to do."
Ziva smilied and patted his forearm sympathetically. She watched him pause and draw a strengthening breath before stepping into Abby's trashed room. She continued back down the hall into the living room. She turned her NCIS cap backwards and put the camera up to her eye, snapping shots of everything in the room. The broken kitchen chairs, the overturned lounge chair, the blood spatters on the wall and floor, and the door.
Noticing something, Ziva called out, "McGee, come look at this."
Out in the hallway, now secured, Tony knocked at Apartment 49C right next door to Abby's. He waited, drumming nervously on the door jam, until a man on the other side opened it up until the chain stopped it.
"Can I help you?" the man asked.
Tony pulled out his badge. "I'm with NCIS, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"
The man nodded, shut the door, undid the chain lock, then exited to stand with Tony.
"Hey there," Tony said, familiarity beginning to set it. He'd seen this man once before on one of his many times visiting Abby. "It's Greg, right?"
Greg smiled. "Yeah, Greg Simms," he replied jovially, extending his hand. "And you're Tony."
"That's right," Tony replied, shaking Greg's hand.
Greg then noticed the activity going on in Abby's apartment through the open door. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"Actually, that's why I want to talk to you," Tony said, leading Greg away from the door and down to the other end of the hall. "Were you in your apartment all last night?"
"Yeah," Greg said. "Why? Is Abby hurt?"
"How well do you two know each other?"
Greg shrugged. "We're friends, I guess. She looks after my dogs when I'm out of town, and I go over there whenever she needs a bug killed."
"Did you hear anything during the night?"
Thinking back, Greg replied, "I heard some talking from outside, but that's not unusual. Guys come home at all hours around here."
"And when was this?" Tony asked.
"Um...around three. I had gotten up to get some water. Oh, and I heard a scream from Abby's."
Tony's eyes widened. "And that didn't bother you?"
"That's happened at Abby's a lot actually. The first couple times, I would go over to see if she was all right, but it was just her TV. I just assumed that it was the same thing last night," Greg relayed, feeling guilty for not realizing the problem. "What's happened to Abby?"
"She was kidnapped. We're looking for who might have done it. That talking you heard, were they men?"
"Oh God..." Greg whispered. "Oh, um...yeah, they were men. Two of them. Oh God, I should have checked on her..."
Tony tried to bring Greg's focus back. "Did they say anything specific?"
Greg shook his head. "I couldn't understand them. They were two rooms and several walls away, it was all muffled."
"Tony, come look at this!" Ziva and McGee were standing out in the hallway, crouched down and looking at the doorknob and deadbolt of the door.
Tony led Greg back to his apartment and handed him a card from his jacket pocket. "Call this number if you remember anything else."
After making sure he was inside, Tony moved next to Ziva and began looking at the door as well.
"What am I looking at guys?"
"No sign of forced entry," McGee said, moving his gloved hand across the deadbolt. "
Ziva continued, "If it were picked or jimmied, there would be visible scratch marks at the keyhole."
"So whoever did this knew Abby," Tony voiced aloud.
"It would appear that way," Ziva said.
"Not necessarily," McGee said, a thought dawning on him. He jumped up to his feet and reached above his head and gently felt the top of the doorway. McGee sighed harshly and brought his hands back to his side. "I thought so...her extra key is gone."
"So, the kidnappers used her spare key to get into her apartment, kidnap Abby, then locked it back behind them when they left?" Tony asked.
"To make it look like nothing had happened. It was locked when I got here this morning," McGee replied, his voice hollow.
Tony took a quick glance at McGee. His face was sunken, weighted down my anger, fear...and guilt.
"Okay team," Tony said quietly. "Let's go ahead and finish processing and get back to the squadroom."
Abby sat in the far corner in her holding cell, her knees tight against her chest. She had ample time to search her surroundings and try to figure out where she was. This wasn't a warehouse...the floor would have been concrete. This was a standward hardwood floor. She felt the walls...sheet rock. Although her room had no windows, she could hear a car passing every now and then. She was in a house, she had to be.
She was hungry. She had only been in that room for about 12 hours, but she the last time she ingested anything other than a Caff-Pow was two days earlier. Damn trial...it always preoccupied every second of her day. She was always too busy and too nervous to eat when she had to testify in court. Her stomach rumbled painfully.
She heard the doorknob rattle and she drew her knees closer to her as her stomach flew up to her throat. She stared out of the corner of her eye as the door swung open and Ben stood in the doorway. He seemed jittery...Abby made a mental note of it. Ben remained stationary and addressed Abby from the doorway.
"Are you hurt?" he asked angrily. Abby could tell though, that he was trying the best he could to sound intimidating, but it wasn't quite up to standard yet.
"A little," Abbt spat back. "Why do you care?"
"Jon just wants to know if you're comfortable," Ben replied sarcastically. "Can I get you anything?" Damn...if nothing else, he was good at sarcasm.
Without thinking, Abby muttered, "Some food would be nice."
"What was that!" Crap, he heard her. Her head snapped up and saw him rushing toward her. "What did you say!" He came down on her and he flinched back as he raised his hand to strike her.
It didn't come. Abby dared a peek from behind her knees. Ben still had his fist raised, but it was shaking slightly. His face was blached. He let out a sigh and dropped his arm.
What was this? Mercy...compassion? Abby raised her head and looked into Ben's. She could see the battle of his conscience ever-present in his face. She knew that this could be the best shot she had on getting out of this situation alive. She slowly stretched out her legs and turned to face Ben.
"This wasn't you're idea was it?" she asked quietly. "You didn't want to do this?"
Ben glaced cautiously toward the door then shook his head.
Yes! A connection!
"This was Jonathan's idea?" Ben nodded shortly.
"Look," Abby said, trying to engage him further, "you are better than this, Ben. It doesn't have to be this way, and you're the one that can end all of this."
"How?"
"Let me go," she replied. "Help me get out of here, and I swear to you that no one will come after you two."
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"
Both Abby and Ben leapt a mile from the bellow coming from the open door. Jonathan was glowering from the doorway and absolutely livid. He rushed and went straight for his younger brother. He pulled him up by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.
"You idiot!" Jonathan screamed at Ben. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"
Jonathan let a few more tirades loose on him that would have made a sailor blush. Abby was completely freaked out and her heart was beating a mile a minute. Her eyes locked on the door to the room, swung wide open. With a quick upward glance to see if Jonathan was still busy, she took off like a shot towards her escape.
Jonathan caught sight of her out of the corner of her eye and, yelling more obscenities, dove for her. He grabbed hold of her ankles, taking Abby down hard. Her arm was caught up under her at an awkward angle and she felt her wrist explode with pain when she hit the floor. Her face made contact with hardwood and she soon tasted blood.
"Ben, shut the damn door!" Jonathan screamed while trying to pin down and stay Abby's flailing legs.
As Ben ran to do so, Jonathan was able to flip Abby over so she was flat on her back and staring up at him. "Where do you think you're going?"
Abby began to squirm and fight to get free, but Jonathan let his hand fly, striking her hard across the face. He scooted forward so that he was completely straddling her waist, keeping her pinned. He then started a mass deluge of strikes to her head and face. Closed hand, open hand, back hand...all equally strong and all equally damaging. Weakened and delirious, Abby didn't notice her assailant get up off of her, but she soon saw a slight fuzzy face inches from her own.
"You do not talk to him, do you understand?" he yelled menacingly. "You're stuck here, and no sweet talking is gonna get you out!"
Abby coughed and groaned in pain and the rolled over to her side. Jonathan began to leave toward the door, but soon slowed to a stop. Without warning, he whipped around, made three bounding steps, and kicked Abby hard in her ribcage. She cried out and clutched her chest as the wind was knocked out of her and she felt one of her ribs break...maybe even two. Jonathan then just laughed maliciously and walked toward the door, shoving Ben through the opening, then slamming the door with a recounding thud.
Beaten and bloody, Abby continued to clutch her chest as she was able to start breathing once again. She knew at least one rib was broken and that her wrist was pretty screwed up, but all she could do at that moment in time was just curl up into the fetal position and sob hysterically. They were going to kill her, she was sure of it. Even if McGee and everyone else was out looking for her, she knew she wouldn't be alive when they found her. She was going to die.