Broken Rule (Leroy Jethro Gibbs x Reader)

Chapter 11

Reader's Point of View

It had been at least forty-eight hours since this non-stop pain began and it seemed constant. I was finally let down when Kepler was done beating me last night, after he left my chains on my wrist loosened. I was so weak that I couldn't catch myself and I slammed into the ground, hard. I was able to keep my head from hitting the ground, but my ankle that I dislocated popped again. 

"Fuck." I groaned, whimpering softly and dragging myself to the bed. The beating I took, made getting comfortable impossible. Nothing was broken, but I was covered in bruises and I couldn't sleep. 

When I was woken, it was by the chain on my ankle being tightened and that caused me to yelp. I was dragged off the bed and to where I was hanging the day before, then I was being jerked into the air again. Not as high today, though. The door behind me opened and Kepler called,

"Good morning, (F/N)!" Flinching at his voice, he laughed and approached me, his footsteps echoing on the walls. His fingers trailed up my thigh and when he got to the hem of my shirt, he ripped it. My stomach was now exposed and I could see the bruises forming, Kepler seemed to be pleased with this. 

"Beautiful." He muttered, pushing on a particularly deep bruise and I arched away, keeping my noises to myself. At first. 

He sprayed me with that water again and I had no choice but to be awake. Next, he grabbed a bigger knife with a smooth edge and I closed my eyes. 

"Oh, no, no, no. Don't want you to miss this." 

Kepler pressed the knife against my cheek first and cut deep, forcing me to glare at him. This made a smile appear on his face and he moved the knife to my legs, again. He cut a line from my outer thigh to my inner thigh on the opposite leg of the brand, his explanation,

"Don't want to mess up that brand."

The next cut was from my hip to the back of my thigh, connecting with the other line and going around my clothes. Even so, I felt more exposed than ever and the cuts weren't as deep as yesterday, but they were more. 

Next came the cut on my other leg from calf to knee, deeper than the other two. 

Gibbs' Point of View

"I'm going to kill this man when I get my hands on him." I muttered, watching him slice lines into (F/N)'s skin. The look on her face was that of agony and I couldn't stop myself from punching my desk. 

Vance came into the room and asked,

"Any news?"

"No, Bishop and DiNozzo are trying to follow Johnson's trail. Fornell is back at the FBI, trying to do the same. Abby is helping McGee. Jimmy and Ducky are going over the autopsies again." I replied, glaring daggers at the flatscreen as I watched Kepler tear the rest of (F/N) shirt off. She was only in a her underwear, bra, and shorts now. The more of her skin that was exposed, the angrier I got and the more my temper flared. 

Vance couldn't even look at the screen after watching his best friend get beaten for about an hour last night. I couldn't take my eyes off of the screen due to the fact that I wanted the ability to jump through the screen and kill Kepler myself. And I wanted to try to asses (F/N)'s injuries the best I could. 

Kepler had moved on to (F/N)'s arms and I noticed that she was now on the ground. The chain on her ankle pulled tight and her arms pulled up so that he didn't have to strain himself. 

"Go to the infirmary for that hand, Gibbs." Vance's voice caught my attention, making me look down at my hand and I huffed, replying,

"It's fine."

"It's purple and swollen."

"I'll get Duck to look at it." 

"Now."

"..."

"It's not a request, Gibbs. The longer you stare at that screen the worse off she is and you are." 

"...Fine. Fine." 

Heading down to autopsy, I finally felt the pain in my hand and I heard (F/N)'s screaming still. Closing my eyes, I shook my head and walked out of the elevator, into autopsy. 

"Duck." I called, catching their attention and he greeted,

"Oh, Jethro! We've only just got...What happened to your hand?"

"I hit it."

"On something hard it appears."

"Might have punched my desk."

"I see. Well, let me have a look." 

He took off his gloves and his face shield, motioning for me to give it to him. Letting him look at my hand, I winced when he felt around and he hummed,

"Hm. Must've hit it pretty damn hard."

"A little bit."

"Well, it doesn't feel broken. Just severely bruised. And I mean severely. Ice on that and don't punch your desk any more."

"..."

"Jethro? Did you hear me?" 

"Huh? Yeah, yeah. Ice."

"Right...Let's go somewhere to talk. Mr. Palmer!" 

"Yes, Doctor?" Jimmy called back, trying to hide his stress and failing miserably. 

"Take over. Yes?"

"Yes, Doctor." 

"Right, let's go." Ducky ordered, pulling me with him. We went back upstairs and into the bullpen, using the stairs. When we sat down at my desk, Ducky started,

"Jethro, what's going through that head of yours?"

"Nothing, Duck. I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're far from fine."

"Look, part of my team is being beaten, cut up, tortured. Anyone would be a little out of it."

"She's more than just someone from your team, Jethro. She's more than just another agent to you."

"Duck-"

"Don't start with me Jethro."

"..."

"Everyone knows how you feel about her and her about you."

"Duck, she's there. Wherever the fuck she is. And I can't help her. I need to help her. Every time I close my eyes...I hear-"

"Stop! Just stop! PLEASE!" (F/N)'s voice cut through our conversation, she was screaming and I ducked my head, continuing,

"That! I hear that. I can't lose another one. I can't do it." 

"We won't lose her."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because you're here."