Author's Note: Well, I guess I'm not really the author. I'm just uploading it for charlie009d since she doesn't have Internet. But I'm pretty sure there will be torture later on in the story. At least that's what I was told. Anyway, enjoy! And don't forget to review!
Disclaimer: I don't own the amazingness that is NCIS.
Blackness lay over the room like a familiar blanket. Warm, murky air seemed to come from every corner and crack. The room was small and not at all fit for living conditions. Mold was all that the room was capable of keeping alive. Four unmoving figures took up the little space the room provided. At first glance, one would think they were dead.
A short gasp echoed through the room. The smallest figure, a female about thirty years old, lifted her head and surveyed her unfamiliar surroundings. Panic began to rise in her chest. She quickly scolded herself for getting scared so fast and easy. She was a trained killer. A damp room shouldn't have scared her as much as it had.
Ziva slowly rolled onto her back, making sure she wasn't hurt in any way. The whole right side of her body was numb. She slowly closed her eyes and shifted her position to check for any broken bones. A small rattling sound caused Ziva's eyes to snap open. She lifted her head to find her ankle was chained to the floor. Deciding she was fine, she sat up. The air she was breathing caught in her throat, almost causing her to choke. This time she let the fear take over.
Her team, her friends were scattered through the tiny room, most in unnatural positions. Blood seemed to be natural in this environment. Ziva choked out the sob stuck in her throat. She then held her breath to make sure it didn't happen again. Crying was a sign of weakness.
"Tony…" Ziva whispered.
Tony was laid on his back. His eyes were closed, and his arm was bent behind his back at a weird angle. Fresh blood rested on his bottom lip. Bruises covered the left side of his face. A low moan escaped from him. Ziva let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Tony rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around his body.
"Five more minutes, mom." he groaned.
A small smile formed on Ziva's face despite the situation they were in. Ziva reached out her hand and slapped him on the back of the head. Tony's eyes immediately snapped open, but closed again just as quickly.
"Sorry boss, I won't fall asleep in the office again."
Tony opened his eyes again, but instead of seeing Gibbs, he saw Ziva kneeling in front of him.
"Hello, Miss David," he said under his breath.
Ziva gave Tony a knowing glance. "What was that, Tony?"
I said you're not Gibbs and this isn't the office," Tony replied.
Ziva helped Tony sit up. Tony rested his back against the wall and looked at the situation they were in. He placed his hand on his head and groaned.
"We are in a cucumber? Yes?" Ziva asked from beside Tony.
Tony rubbed his read and rolled his eyes. "It's pickle, Ziva. Pickle."
"A pickled and a cucumber are the same thing. Are they not?" Ziva asked in a matter of fact tone.
Tony sighed and gave up. Tony looked out onto the room. Tim McGee lay on his stomach, and a large bruise was visible on the back of McGee's neck. Tony got on his hands and knees and began to crawl toward Tim. He pressed his fingers to McGee's cheek, and drool poured out of his mouth.
"Probie, wake up." Tony said in a sing song voice.
McGee groaned and absentmindedly swatted at the air. Ziva shook his shoulder.
"Wakie, wakie, eggs and toast." she said softly.
"It's eggs and bacie." Tony corrected.
Ziva rolled her eyes. "I think we have more important things to worry about than correcting my English."
Tony pushed himself up. "You should have tried this first." Tony leaned forward. "Elflord…" he called softly.
McGee's eyes snapped opened. He struggled to stand up, but was flung back down due to the chains. McGee turned his neck side to side, cracking it.
"Where are we?" he finally asked. Tony and Ziva exchanged glances.
"Well, Probie, we're in the magical land of unicorns and butterflies." Tony said sarcastically.
McGee shot Tony an irritated gaze. "This isn't exactly the time to kid around, Tony." He replied.
"Well, McGeek, if we knew where we are, we have got up and left you here.
"Even if you did know where we are, you couldn't have left. Because, if you haven't noticed already, we are chained to the freaking floor!" McGee spat.
Tony rolled his eyes and slumped back onto the floor. "Yes, Probie, I've noticed."
"Something's wrong." McGee said. It wasn't a question, but a statement.
"Yes, well, as you pointed out-"Tony began.
"No, that's not it." McGee said slowly.
Tony sat up straight and gave McGee the best Gibbs stare he could muster. "Then what is it?"
McGee sat cross legged on the floor, cupping his chin in his hand. "The fact that Ziva hasn't gotten in on this yet."
Ziva wasn't even looking at them. Her gaze was fixed on something on the other side of the room. The fear was back, but it didn't only affect Ziva. This time it clung to all three of their hearts. Laying face down, unmoving, was Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Blood poured down his face from a wound in his head. All three agents were terrified.
Tony cleared his throat, "Boss." It ended up coming out as a hoarse whisper.
Gibbs didn't move. Fear began to dissipate and panic rose.
Ziva opened her mouth to speak. "Gibbs…"
Gibbs didn't respond. He just laid there, unmoving. Still as death.