A/N: Right, so this is Chapter 3! If you've read the other chapters, you should know that I have a unique way with words (geez, I sound like my English teacher Miss Gray now – scary thought!) which can sometimes be quite effective at times, but can also be a bit weird. It's a matter of opinion, so sorry if you think it's rubbish. Anywho, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Dear Santa, for Christmas I'd like a Blackberry, a new pair of converse, those gorgeous jeans in Primark… and NCIS! Okay, since that last one probably won't ever happen, I don't own NCIS and I probably never will!

Chapter 3: Joe Harper

Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was white. At first, she thought she was in heaven, until the pain resurfaced and snippets of conversation reached her ears. Her head was throbbing, her ribs felt bruised and the pain in her hand was excruciating. She could hear talking, hushed and fearful; she could distinctly make out the panicked sound of Abby's voice and then the rest of the team too. Immediately regretting her decision as soon as she made it, she sat up, and the pain shot through her ribs causing her to gasp loudly. The team's attention shifted to her, as they gathered around where she lay, worry taking over their expressions. It was then she began to take in where she lay. It felt soft, something she wasn't used to after been kidnapped. She looked around.

She was lying on a bed, the hideous floral covers matching the garish wallpaper. An old-fashioned writing desk stood to the left of the bed; a chest of drawers to the right. Abby and McGee were huddled on a small chaise at the foot of the bed, Gibbs sat on the coral carpet leant against the door facing them and Tony sat on a chair next to the bed. Once upon a time, the room would have been spectacular, but now the faded splendour was obvious, and every surface appeared to be covered in a thin layer of dust.

Upon seeing her regain consciousness, the team smiled huge smiles of relief, and began filling her in on the events that had occurred while she was knocked out. Their happiness was short lived, however, as faint clicks made their way through the slowly rotting walls, followed by a loud clang as the door suddenly flew open, startling the team. A man walked through the door, a knife in his hand, and looked at the team with cold hatred embedded in his black eyes. He had short black hair, a short beard and a wide jaw. He looked familiar, and although none of the team acknowledged that face verbally, everybody was aware that their teammates shared their opinion. Still stood by the door, he spoke.

"Ah, you're all awake now I see." His voice was smooth and had a slight southern twang to it. They recognised the voice too. "My name is Joe Harper. You probably don't know me, but you know my brother. Michael Harper. Last month, one of you shot him dead. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, and one of you killed him! So I've taken you, and I'm going to torture you, until someone tells me who. Because somebody saw something and they will tell me." He turned to leave, but stopped just before exiting. "Oh, and whoever did shoot him, I'll kill them. An eye for an eye; a tooth for a tooth. A life for a life. Have a good day!"

As the heavy door swung shut, the team turned to face each other, panic etched upon their all knew the shooter, and they all knew why they'd shot. That day was still firmly embedded in their memories, even Abby's as she watched on the security cameras she'd tapped in to. The team had been led to a dark warehouse in pursuit of a suspect, but when they got there it appeared they'd interrupted the meeting of a group of drug dealers. The felons all fled immediately, but Michael had a gun, and had shot at Tony before running too. Almost a reflex by now, Ziva shot back at him and caught him in the back of the head, killing him instantly.

They all knew that, but if Joe Harper ever found out Ziva would be dead. Abby finally broke the silence, her voice trembling.

"What do we do Gibbs?" she asked, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Nothing. We don't say anything. We're family." Gibbs replied sternly.

"But Gibbs? They'll torture us! I'm scared!"

"Abby. Listen to me. You're a forensic scientist. You work in a lab. Everybody knows that you can't have been there, and that you definitely didn't pull the trigger. They have no reason to torture you."

"But they don't need a reason! They're sick twisted psychopaths who torture people for fun!"

"This is stupid! I will not let you be tortured for something I did! I killed him, and I will take the punishment," Ziva said sitting up and resisting the urge to wince as pain shot to her ribs.

"No!" Tony surprised everybody by standing up so forcefully that the chair clattered to the ground. "Ziva he will kill you! There's no way that we'll let him kill you. Right?"

"That's right DiNozzo," Gibbs confirmed. "As long as everybody claims that they don't know, we'll be fine."

Cutting off whoever was about to speak next, the now familiar clunk of the door swinging open sounded again, and Joe Harper strode in, followed by two large men, still dressed in black and still wearing ski masks. Harper pulled a sheet of paper from the back pocket of his jeans and read from it.

"Ah, so first for interrogation is Miss Abigail Sciuto. Please either follow me quietly, or I will have my two friends here 'help' you," he said, an evil smirk forming on his face.

Shaking, Abby stood and made her way over to where Harper and his two men stood. Like he requested, she silently followed him, tears now streaming silently down her face as she turned back and mouthed the words 'I'm scared' just before the door slammed shut again.

The atmosphere in the room had changed. It was almost as if they were mourning for Abby, even though she was only in the next room. The hardest part was hearing her screams come echoing through the flimsy walls, shouting and swearing and cursing from Harper; sobs and screams and repeated cries of 'I don't know' from Abby. Ziva looked at Tony, and he could sense the guilt that she felt. It was one of the little things that made them such great partners – their abilities to sense what they were feeling. And although his eyes told her it wasn't her fault, she couldn't stop that overwhelming feeling of culpability flooding through her veins.

What had she done?

A/N#2: Hope you liked it; the next chapters will be the torture from each of the teams point of view. I hope this is okay, I'm actually writing this a 01:12am and I've just finished it so it won't be my best work. I've also been working on a couple more FanFics – one for NCIS and another for CSI: New York, and I might post them up too once I've gotten a bit further on with this!