It's a feeling

~ anything ~

Toby Keith ~ American Soldier

"I'm an American soldier, an American,

Beside my brothers and my sisters,

I will proudly take a stand,

When liberty's in jeopardy,

I will always do what's right,

I'm out here on the front lines,

sleep in peace tonight,"

"That's overkill." I mumble, sipping my coffee then letting out an exaggerated 'ah.' As much as I was joking around, my statement held truth, whoever killed this man went extremely overboard. Jethro sends me a not impressed face most likely for my lack of professionalism causing me to pout, "I wanted to see your handsome face serious not mad." He just looks away, a small smile daring to break onto his face earning a 'humph' from me.

Dr. Donald Mallard chuckles lightly, "I see you and Jethro are getting along," Dr. Mallard was very fond of me, and I him. Us both having degrees in forensic psychology helped out in that field. I've known him for two days but he's taught me a lot, I quite like the man.

And James Palmer, he's absolutely adorable. Him and his wife are perfect for each other. It's a bit of a oxymoron that such a sweet man works with dead people if you ask me.

A smile at the medical examiner "Well, he is quite the gentleman." I comment, turning my attention to the dead marine, "COD looks to be a stab wound to the stomach," I pause, studying the rest of him, "That's odd..." I trail off, eyebrows squinted in confusion.

Ducky turns to me, "How so?"

"How so as in my conclusion of the COD or that the COD is odd?"

"Both." He asks, interested.

"Well," I nod towards the victims head, "Although he was shot in the head and neck most blood came from the stomach wound. The killers sadistic, that's what was odd to me. He most likely watched the guy slowly die before shooting him. Twice. It's almost as if he realized he had a job to do- this isn't good, Jethro!"

The team leader just hums in response not looking up from whatever he was doing, "This was a job. Like a hit. Although I'm thinking whoever hired him wasn't aware there killer was a sexual sadist."

"So he gets off on the pain he inflicts?" he questions, walking over to me.

I nod, "I can't be for sure until the autopsy is finished, but he most likely died from bleeding out. And it took awhile. The killer probably stood against that tree there," I point to the tree directly in front of the body, "And watched him slowly die. I wouldn't be surprised of the Sargent begged for help. Probably fueled the killers sadistic needs." I explain, nodding to the victim once again.

Jethro starts dishing out jobs well I tune him out. Walking back towards the car, I gain his attention, "Ay, Tavia!" I look up at him, eyebrows raised, "Where are you going?" He questions.

I smile slightly, "To sleep." I was exhausted, my nightmares were getting bad. So bad that it's getting to the point of no sleep.

He scrunches his eyebrows, "We-"

"Are doing your jobs, I can not do mine if I got no sleep so if you'll excuse me Jethro.." I trail off, continuing my walk to the car, "I'm sleepy."

*

Thomas and Sabrina stood eerily still, Ry not daring to take her eyes off of Jenna's dead body, her sickly white pale skin shining in the moonlight.

I glance from her body back to Mathew's, a blank look on my face. I left my job to avoid friends deaths, not to witness two more. I look up the the silent man, eyebrows raised, "So, what's the plan? You shoot us all on a marine base? Even if no one responds to the gun shots right away you won't get away any of this. There is 6 cameras just in this vicinity, you'll get caught before I have my midnight snack on Friday night." I state.

He was a need driven offender. A sadist. He needed me to fear him in order to kill me and as long as no one showed emotion, we would survive this.

A long sob vibrates through the empty field, Sabrina's body being held up my Thomas. She was clearly distraught, terrified for both her life and ours. Devastated. Defeated. The girl didn't stand a chance, and that thought was daunting.

"Please just." She sobs out, "We'll do anything pl-"

The man cuts her off, "Anything?" He questions earning a heavy nod. "Hmm," He drawls out, motioning the gun to Thomas, "Kiss your boyfriend." He instructs, his voice eerily gentle. Sabrina casts a glance at me. I shake my head, but she doesn't listen. This is what he wants. Control.

She looks up at Thomas, whispering a 'I love you' that was so quiet, if I couldn't read lips I wouldn't be able to tell she said it. He whispers it back, starring down at her with so much affection it was saddening to watch. Placing as shaky kiss on her boyfriends chapped lips she holds in a sob leaning her head against his shoulder. Before a second could even past another gun shot goes off, blood splattering across Thomas's face, Sabrina's lifeless body attempting to tumble to the ground only to be held onto by her boyfriends disbelieving hands.

This time I when I awoke, it was a start. My clouded mind didn't register my surroundings and in a half of a second I had someone's arm gripped tightly in my own, my forearm pressed against there neck. My hazel eyes meet oddly calm bright blue ocean eyes. Freezing, a let out a small shaky breath, slowly realizing that I was straddling Jethro his right arm held tightly in my left and my right arm pressed against his neck. I drop my arms to the side of him, my eyes slightly stinging with tears. I let out another breath trying to control my emotions. Agents don't cry. Agents don't cry. Agents do not cry.

"Agents do not cry." I whisper to myself without realizing. Jethro looks at me disbelieving before shaking his head.

"God what have they done to you?" He questions more to himself, tucking a piece of hair behind my chocolate colored ear. I swallow thickly, willing the tears to evaporate, leave me be, not make me seem weak.

I look down at my legs, "Sorry, I- I'm sorry, I uh, s-" he just quirky shushing me, pulling me in slowly and gently for a hug. A warn salty traitorous tear travels down my apple cheek, as I hesitantly placed my head into the crook of Jethro's neck. I've never hugged someone before, probably because I hate affection. I wasn't sure what to do, so I let Jethro just hold me as I silently sat there. I think I just needed to be held and he knew that. So that's what he did, held me as I urged myself not to cry.