Abby first dragged me down to autopsy, one of my favorite places to be when I was a kid. Ducky saw me, but I don't think he recognized me because he asked Abby who I was. I pulled back my hair and got onto my knees, sitting on my heels. "Quack quack." I signed. It was then Ducky recognized me. I got up and he hugged me.
"Ducky, I need your help. I don't trust anyone else with this." I wrote on his back. "Of course." He whispered before pulling back. "Abby, would you mind taking Mr. Palmer to help you with those samples I sent up earlier?" he asked. I gave Abby the look I would give her when I wanted to talk to someone alone that I gave her when I needed to talk to Gibbs when I was a kid. I took out my foundation, liquid and powder, so I could cover it back up afterwards and put it on one of the tables.
"What is it my dear?" he asked, concern laced in his voice. I walked over to the sink and washed the makeup off of my arms from the elbow down and my face. It revealed the bruises that were starting to heal on my face and the scars that were on my arms. I had left my jacket upstairs. His face immediately falls from one of confusion to one of deep concern. "My dear..." he said, getting closer. He put a blanket over the glass and locked the doors. "May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the shirt. I nodded, taking off the shirt.
"Oh my... I never thought that..." he trailed off, but I knew exactly what he meant. "How long?" he asked. I'm twenty two, so about "eight years" I signed. "Eight years of this? You never thought of escaping?" he asked. "Yes. I've thought about escaping and every attempt I made would just end up with another beating and another week without food. My last attempt was about a month ago." I signed. "My dear... Did your social worker know?" he asked. "She did. Said there was nothing I could do, but that I only had a few more years with them. She was wrong." I signed. He hugged me gently so not to hurt me.
Once he released me, I put my shirt back on and used my foundation to cover them back up. "The powers of makeup, huh Duck?" I signed. He chuckled before unlocking the doors and removing the blanket from the glass that was in the door. "Hey Duck. Mind telling me why this door was locked?" Gibbs asked. I shook my head discreetly enough for Ducky to notice. "It was nothing. Just something I needed to take care of." he said before he started discussing his findings.
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Probie
FanfictionA girl who was abused most of her life, to the point of being mute, comes to NCIS as a new agent on Gibbs' team. Will the team be as open as they were to everyone else? *WARNING!!! There will be explicit abuse scenes as well as some self-harm scenes...
