A/N: Chapter 4 is up! I'd better warn you now, this has a lot of violence and some strong language in it, so if you don't like it, don't read it. I changed my writing style in this chapter as I thought it suited in better. It's in Abby's POV, and it's like she's telling it as it's happening. Once again, this chapter was written late at night, so I'll just apologise in advance if anything's off. Also, thanks to everyone who's reviewed; they sure beat all of the sales pitches and constant Facebook notifications that appear in my inbox! (Yes, I am 12 and on Facebook, and no, it is not illegal like my dad first said. I actually know an eight year old who's on it!) I really appreciate the feedback so keep reviewing please!
Disclaimer: Is it in the closet? No. Is it under my bed? No. Is it hiding in the mound of clothes on my floor? No. Do I own it at all? No.
Chapter 4: Abby
Abby's POV (as if it's happening now)
I have to go; if I don't they'll drag me and hurt me. Gibbs says I'd be okay, and I trust Gibbs. They lead me into the room next door, which was probably once a study. A small rickety desk stands in the middle of the room, with an office chair like the ones Tony, Ziva and McGee have opposite each other. On the desk there's a tape recorder and a small package wrapped in a grubby cloth that has what looks suspiciously like blood stains on it. At a closer inspection, I can see that there is blood on the table and the chair furthest away from me. My heart speeds up and my mouth feels dry – I'm scared. Joe Harper and the two men dressed in head to toe black enter behind him. He gestures for me to sit in the chair stained with blood and I obey, almost immediately. Harper sits in the chair opposite and takes the package in his hand. I can't help but gasp as I see what's in it; three knives – one small, one medium and once big – all coated in blood. The two men each produce a pair of handcuffs and brutally force my hands down to the arms of the chair and fasten me there. I can't move – not even to brush my hair out of my face; not even to wipe away the tears that have began to fall down my face.
"So, Miss Sciuto, are you going to cooperate?" he asks, the look on his face menacing.
"I-I don't know a-anything about what…what happened," I manage to stutter, shaking uncontrollably.
"I don't believe you." His tone is becoming quieter; more dangerous.
"B-but please," I beg. "I wasn't there. I-I'm just a forensic s-scientist."
"YOU LIAR!" he shouts, so loud the desk wobbles. The tears come faster as he pulls out the smallest of the knives and waves it carelessly in front of my face.
"I-I'm not!" I whisper, still avoiding his cold eyes. He walks over to where I sit, laughing evilly as I cower further away from him. He pushes further so he's right in my face, his breath stale and smelling of alcohol.
"Tell me what, you know or die bitch," he murmurs, so quiet even I can barely hear him, but the threat's there. And then I'm not sure what to do, and a million and one possibilities run through my head, along with a million and one scenarios, but they all come to the same conclusion – if I keep quiet and save Ziva, but he doesn't believe it, he'll hurt me; if I give Ziva up, he won't hurt me, but he'll kill her. I make my decision in a second. I didn't like Ziva when she first came to NCIS, but now she's one of my best friends. And there's no way I'll let her die.
"I already told you, I wasn't there, and I know nothing." My voice is stronger now, and I'm determined to stick this through.
"Yes, well I don't believe you. You may not have been there, but I'm not convinced that you know nothing. One of your precious teammates could have told you who shot my brother, and if you will not tell, then I will just have to make you," he said, his voice stronger than mine, his face still pressed up against mine. I make to turn away, but his grabs my head in his grubby hands and jerks it back so our faces are practically touching. It makes me feel physically sick, and it's all I can do to stop myself vomiting over his smug little face right then.
And I can't breathe. All I can do is watch in horror as he turns to one of the men and orders him to release one of my arms. I want to punch him, to fight back, but I know I can't. As he draws the knife back, I can't move my arm out of the way; he's holding on too tight. My vision blurs then, and I think it can't be real; it's not happening, not to me; it's all a bad dream and I'll wake up in a minute, in my lab probably. But I know it's definitely real as the knife enters my arm, slicing through my flesh instantly. At that point, I can't hold it in and I let a massive scream escape – one I don't realise I've been holding back until the shrill tone of fear echoing in the room. It doesn't affect Harper, who chuckles callously and sharply removes the knife from my arm. He must be an expert at this, I think. He knows how to create maximum pain, but still leave me conscious and sane enough to interrogate. He leans into me again – I flinch away, but he once again grabs my head so his lips brush against my hair which has long since fallen out of the bands that held it up – and whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my neck and sending uncomfortable shivers of disgust down my spine.
"Ready to tell me yet?" he whispers, in a voice so sickeningly sweet it makes me want to slap him. I shake my head violently, my lips pressed firmly shut. He tuts lightly and picks up the next knife size up. "Well maybe you need a bit of persuasion? Do you Miss Sciuto?" I shake my head this time, still averting my gaze from the gash in my arm. I can tell that it's bleeding heavily, and the pain is worse than anything I've ever felt before. The dull thud of my blood dripping onto the cold stone tiles of the floor accompanies the shaky breaths of my lungs gasping for air, the whispers of Harper and the barely audible hum of hushed conversations from the room next door.
Using the slightly larger knife now in his hand, he moved back to the cut he made before and made another somewhat deeper cut in my already bleeding arm, crossing at a perpendicular angle. Again, I can't hold in the anguished screams as they escape my body. The almost silent buzz from the next room stops as I sob uncontrollably begging him to stop. And at that moment, I don't care about anything. It sounds so selfish and childish, but I don't care about anybody in the next room; I don't care about how they're feeling – all I care about is the pain shooting up my arm. I don't realise how scared I must sound until I register the pounding on the walls and the shouts of my name coming through the flimsy wall. And then I regain feeling and scream for them, calling out their names in turn, the tears on a seemingly endless flow down my face. I turn to Harper, who's laughing with an amused smirk on his face.
"Ah, well, it seems you really are clueless," he drawls, looking so relaxed, despite that his shirt is covered in my blood. "I should have known that your colleagues wouldn't tell you anything. They don't trust you. You're just a stupid little lab-rat. You're not really part of the team, are you? You don't go out with them, do you? You just sit in your little lab, waiting for the evidence to come to you. You're pathetic!" He spits out the last words; his spittle spraying my face as I once again pull away, the my face now soaking in the salty liquid running from my red eyes. As the words sink in, I almost believe what he's saying, and a small voice in the back of my head is telling me that what he's saying is true and that they don't want me. That feeling lasts only a second though, as the voice of reason cuts over the top, reminding me that they do want me and that if they really didn't care, then they wouldn't be hammering on the walls.
"You're wrong," I say simply, taking everyone – even me – by surprise. "You're wrong. They do trust me; they do need me. They're my family and I love them. Just because you don't have one anymore, doesn't mean everyone's as sad and lonely as you are."
Upon hearing and registering my words, his face contorts with rage. He looks angrier than before and for a moment I think he's going to kill me.
"How-how dare you?" he splutters, before regaining composure. "Well, that just earned you another." I regret what I said as the draws the biggest knife and once again inserts it meticulously into my arm, but this time I don't scream as loud and I don't cry. I think he can tell that it's not getting to me as much now, as he looks directly at the two men and nods once – obviously a signal of some sort. I confirm the truth in that unspoken statement as one of the men returns to my side and un-handcuffs my arm from the chair.
"Miss Sciuto, you are free to go," he states, without lifting his head. He has taken a cloth out of his pocket and is cleaning the knives. My stomach churns when I remember that the next person he uses the knife on will be one of the team.
The men carelessly fling open the door and shove me inside. Immediately, I'm enveloped in the arms of who I soon realise to be McGee and Gibbs. The sit me down on the bed, (Ziva's now moved to the couch with Tony) and gasp as they see all of the blood pooling on my arm. I even gasp myself as I look down and see three perfect cuts that have sliced through my flesh. Dizziness starts to settle in as I realise how much blood I must have lost. I can hear voices talking to me but they're faint whispers in the distance. Vaguely, I notice McGee pulling at the bedcovers, ripping off thin strands and Gibbs wrapping them tightly around my arm, stopping the bleeding. I feel better a few minutes later, and Gibbs asks me what happened in there. Just as I begin to relive the horrible ordeal, Harper returns.
"Timothy McGee? You're next."
A/N#2: Well it's not really much of a cliffy, as you all know what happens next (probably the same as Abby, just from his POV) but since it's now exactly 2am, I'll leave it there. I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, and it's a little rushed towards the end, I know, but I've re-written it so many times and I'm never really happy with it tbh. But anywho, there you are, and I'll try to update ASAP. Any ideas for the next chapter would be greatly appreciated!