To recap: Alex got tortured by Dr. Three and is put in a coma for 36 days. When he wakes up he's instantly sent to America where he thinks he's going into Witness Protection. He's also wheelchair bound- at least until a doctor clears him. Instead of Witness Protection he meets Tony and the rest of the team. The team is sent on a case and Alex wanders away…

"Alex, is that you?"

Alex nearly jumped a foot in surprise, cursing himself for his lapse in concentration. Forgetting about his leg he jumped up before it buckled underneath him, "Agh!"

Gibbs appeared behind the man who had startled Alex, gun drawn, "Step away from him and-"

"Dave?" Alex asked from where he was now sitting on the ground holding his leg.

"Alex, please have your friend drop the gun."

Alex thought about it for a few moments before nodding, "Agent Gibbs, this is David McPherson. We went through training together."

Gibbs lowered the gun slightly, but did not put it away, "What's your business here?"

"It's graduation," Dave told Gibbs as though he were a bit slow.

"Boss!" Tony came running over. "We found another camera."


After the second camera had been found Gibbs had helped Alex back into the wheelchair and ordered the team to pack up and head back to base. Another team would finish securing the scene.

Meanwhile, Alex had managed to secure a time to talk to Dave in two weeks at a café a short distance from NCIS with Gibbs's permission. Both SEAL's had been a bit irritated about the sudden need for departure.

Now Alex sat twiddling his thumbs as Gibbs and his team went down to speak to a woman named Abby. Another NCIS agent from one of the other teams was currently babysitting Alex, his hand twitching towards his gun every time someone spoke or moved into his field of vision.

Alex smirked to himself, recognizing the agent for what he was: Green. "Relax. If you twitch at everything you'll just tire yourself out. If you're at all tired you'll be in no condition to defend against an attack."

The agent sneered at Alex, believing him to be just a kid here because something happened to his parents. "I'm doing my job- watching for any signs of danger."

Alex laughed, "Kid, have you ever been in a situation like this? Take the advice. A senior field agent would tell you the same thing."

"You're just a kid. What would you know about 'situations like this'?" the agent sneered.

"First, I'm not a kid. I am twenty fucking years old and a Navy SEAL. Second- I've been dealing with this shit since before you even thought about joining NCIS."

The agent paled, "You're a SEAL?"

Alex smiled- maybe he had gotten through to the man. "If you're worried about being able to react quickly, keep your gun in your hand. Stop searching for specific sources of danger and focus on the area as a whole. Look for figures that are acting strangely or are paying just a bit too much attention."

The agent soaked in the information, his gun now in hand. He felt steadier, more able to adapt to any situation without having to worry about getting his gun out.

The elevator pinged and Gibbs stepped out, "Porter! Let's go."

Alex frowned, "Where?"

"My house."

Alex nodded in acknowledgement, "Alright. I assume your orders are to keep me in sight at all hours, correct?"

Gibbs didn't reply, but Alex hadn't expected one. It was rather obvious from Alex's twitchy green agent that was 'guarding' him while Gibbs had met with the forensic scientist.

"Any leads on that note?" Alex asked, hoping the man would drop a clue as to it's content. They boarded the elevator.

"We've got the situation under control," Gibbs avoided.

Alex rolled his eyes but didn't press. He had no doubt he'd figure it out soon. It was just the nature of his luck. If there was something hidden he always managed to get dragged into the situation, whether of his own volition, by force, or his sheer bad luck.

After Gibbs helped Alex into the car and stowed his wheelchair in the trunk, the set off. It only took ten minutes of driving for Alex to drift off to sleep.

Gibbs drove in silence, thanking his good fortune that Alex had fallen asleep. He needed to think without worrying about the boy, and now he had the time. The note they had found at the crime scene was disturbing. That, paired with the two cameras, had Gibbs and the team concerned.

He was sure Alex wanted to know the note's content, and was careful not to give anything away. He thought back to the conversation he had had with the British official in regards to the young SEAL. The specific threat had been obscured, but it had been made clear that Porter was not to be left alone at any point. The only thing Gibbs knew about the threat was that a terrorist group was after the SEAL.

When they arrived at the house Gibbs called Alex's name in an attempt to wake him up. Alex's eyes shot open, filled with a wariness and alertness that was tinged with something else: Fear.

The moment passed as he took in the neighborhood in a swift glance at their surroundings. The fear changed quickly to relief and then even quicker to a neutral expression, "How long was I asleep?"

"About a half hour," Gibbs informed him. He helped Alex into the wheelchair and into the house. "This is my house. There's an old TV in the living room. Normally I'd give you my room, but since it's upstairs you've got the couch. It also makes the guard rotation easier."

Alex sighed, "I'm guessing your British meeting this morning was about me? Specific orders on not letting me out of your sight for an instant?"

Gibbs frowned, "Yeah."

"I don't know whether that's for my sake or his…"

Gibbs gave him a questioning look.

"Everyone who knows me well knows I have a habit of… finding trouble… I'm the type of person who follows a drug dealer home before bringing them to the police myself. Never really occurs to me to just call the cops…"

Gibbs stared at the boy appraisingly, "So our job is to basically keep you where any damage you do can be controlled?"

Alex laughed at the wording, "Yeah. That sounds about right."

"Go to sleep kid," Gibbs told the boy kindly, helping Alex onto the couch and putting the remote within the boy's reach. Alex nodded and closed his eyes.

Gibbs walked into the kitchen and pulled out a beer before calling Tony and asking if the team would come over for dinner so they could discuss watch schedules for Alex.

For three hours Gibbs sat in the kitchen in a chair that had a clear view of the living room where Alex slept. When the door swung open Gibbs saw the boy bolt upright in alarm and turn his head towards the door.

"You should really lock your door boss," Dinozzo's voice called from the entrance.

Gibbs let out a small huff, "Don't have to worry about covering other entrances if the front door is open."

Alex let out bark of laughter, "Who are you dealing with? Petty thieves? You're dealing with a fucking terrorist group with a blood feud against me. They use all possible entrances to infiltrate a location."

Gibbs met Alex's gaze for a few moments before shrugging, "Still no point locking the door."

Alex inclined his head in silent agreement. To both men's surprise, Alex pushed himself to his feet, using the sofa for support, "Getting shot hurts like a bitch. I had forgotten how much I hate getting shot." He gingerly took a step towards the wheelchair and groaned.

He staggered the last two feet to the chair and nearly collapsed into it, "Alright. Now I understand why the doctor said no walking."

The men just raised their eyebrows in disbelief, both wondering what the boy had hoped to accomplish. Just then the door opened again, "Hey boss? You should really lock your door- especially with Alex staying here."

Ziva followed McGee in through the door, "No. If someone's here for Alex, locking the door won't help."

Alex laughed so hard he nearly doubled over while the Israeli tried to figure out what was so funny.

They all went into the kitchen and Dinozzo was told to order pizza.

"What kind do you want Alex?" Tony asked.

"Pepperoni and onion," Alex replied, surprisingly nervous. "Ummm… What if it's poisoned?"

Tony nearly dropped the phone in surprise, "Poisoned?"

Alex blushed. "It's happened a few times over the last two years," he told Tony honestly.

"SEAL's can blush!" Tony said in shock.

"We are human, Tony," Alex told him.

"So what would you suggest for food then?" Gibbs asked.

Alex smiled and pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number, "Hello, this is Devil's Luck. I'd like to place my usual order, dropped off at the docks. One of my associates will pick it up… Yes, I'll wire it tonight. Thanks Jimmy."

Alex looked into the shocked faces of his companions, "There's a place in Georgetown that makes food for paranoid schizophrenics so that their customers aren't afraid of being poisoned. Most customers pick a code name. I got mine because as I picked up my first order I nearly got mugged. It was actually quite funny."

"Being nearly mugged is funny?" Ziva asked incredulously.

Alex smirked, "It is when the mugger thinks they're attacking a teenager and then find out they're facing a SEAL. He wasn't exactly subtle."

McGee looked at Ziva, "He reminds me of you when you first got here."

"Anyway," Gibbs cut in. "Watch schedules. Here."

They each took a copy of the schedules and looked them over. Alex watched each of them carefully. Ziva nodded her quick acceptance. McGee shrugged. Tony…

"This means no drinking!"

Gibbs slapped the back of his head, "We've all got Saturday and Sunday off. Drink then if you must."

Alex glanced at the clock, 'You should leave in about ten minutes to pick up the food. It'll be at the marina near base."

"That's a forty minute drive each way!" Tony protested.

"The food's worth it. Trust me."

Tony snorted in disbelief but volunteered to pick it up anyways.

AN: Dave will be in the later chapters, but I realized during one of my twenty some odd attempts at this chapter that I could not advance the story with him actively in play so early. Also the note is driving me crazy! I still don't know what is in it exactly! I know what I'm using it for, but beyond that- I really don't know.