Special agent Chloe Gibbs
I needed to get out. Everything that was going on- I just needed to get some fresh air. Derek thought it might be good for me. Of course he said this in a hoarse voice, but I shrugged it off. I walked the trails behind the safe house, knowing I was safe as long as I stayed near the others.
We were staying with Andrew at his safe house, and he was a nice man, but my life had taken such a turn in the last couple of weeks that everyone I met seemed like a threat.
I had had enough fresh air, so I headed back to the safe house to go have lunch with the others. When I got there, nothing felt right. The house was the same as how I left it. Just without anyone in it.
I searched everywhere, but there was no Simon, no Tori, no Andrew; there wasn't even Derek. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I fell to the ground, crying. Where had they gone? Were they okay? Did they need help? What could I do? Then I found the note.
If you're reading this, then we're gone. I'm sorry, but it's for the best. For everyone. You should go back home, and we'll take care of the Edison group. We really are sorry for doing this to you. But Right now, we can't have anything slowing us down. I'm not saying you're not helpful; I'm just saying that you don't know what you're doing, and we can't have any mistakes being made. I'm sorry.
Stay safe, and don't do anything stupid.
By now the tears were coming fast, staining my face. I couldn't breathe. I didn't go after them. It was useless. They didn't need me. They didn't want me. I was just a weight to drag around. A burden; a waist. I couldn't help them win this battle, and I knew it. I just wish he had the guts to say it to my face, instead of being a cowered and running away.
I couldn't stay in this house. It reeked of them. I packed my things, leaving the sweatshirt Derek bought me before we got to the safe house, when we were still running. I wasn't going to listen to him though. I wasn't going back home. I would stay on the run as long as I could.
And if I got hurt- or worse…killed- then I hoped that they would find out and know it was all their fault. I could already hear the priest at my funeral saying, "She died a terrible death. And it's all Simon, Tori, and Derek's fault. We shun you."
I smiled at bit at that last part, but it soon faded. They really had left me. They really thought I was weak. They owed me, and this was how they repaid me? By leaving me to die? Derek by far owed me more than anyone. I stayed with him threw his changes, and helped him realize he's not a monster. Well, looks like he is. Just not in the way he thought.
I got to the bus station, and asked for one ticket to Washington. I don't know what I was planning to do there, but it seemed like the safest place to be. I kept on thinking about how weak I was. How I needed them. But I didn't. I didn't need them. I could take care of myself. I didn't need Simon to talk to, or Tori to take my side when something horrible (something to do with hair) happened to me. And I didn't need Derek to protect me. He may have the strength, but I had the brains.
I got off the bus, and found a place to sleep. An old loading dock with boxes, and blankets. I got into the biggest box, wrapping myself with a blanket. I closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep. I did- eventually- and woke up to a shadow looming over me.
I opened my eyes and saw a man in front of me. I started to back away in fright, when his blank expression turned into a look of sympathy. From anyone else, I wouldn't want it. But from him- it just felt right. He had old icy blue eyes, and a gray navy haircut.
"Hay, boss. I found—"another man, younger looking, came over. He noticed that it wasn't just him and his boss, and stopped talking. "Um, boss? There's a kid right there."
"Well yah, Dinosso. I see that," the man said harshly to Dinosso. He looked back at me and called over his shoulder, "Get this one a blanket." Dinosso ran away, and the man knelt down in front of me.
"I'm special agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS. What's your name?"
"Chloe. Chloe Saunders."
"And how old are you?"
"15. Almost 16. Sir." He smiled.
"Nice to meet you Chloe. Can I ask you why you're on the streets?"
Should I tell him, I thought. I don't know if I can trust him. What if I can't?
"It's okay, you don't have to tell me," He said.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"There was a murder last night."
A murder? I slept through that? And what about the ghost? Would I be seeing him anytime soon?
"W-what happened to him?" I asked.
He looked unsure, but said, "He was shot. The gun most likely had a silencer on it, so you couldn't hear."
"I don't know. But how about I take you back to my office, and get you cleaned up, and find you something to eat?"
"I would like that, sir."
He smiled again. "Just call me Gibbs."
*Beep- Beep- Beep*
I shot up in bed. I looked at my alarm clock. 7:30. I pressed the off button. That darn alarm clock always goes off when it gets to the good part. I crawled out of bed and went to the window. I looked out. I was on the second floor, and had a nice view.
I heard a knock at my door, and I yelled, "Come in."
Gibbs peaked around the corner. I could tell he was already dressed and ready, just needed his coffee. "Leaving in ten."
I nodded. "I'll be ready." I took a quick shower, and got on clean cloths. That's right, clean. I ran down stairs, and met Gibbs at the door. We slipped in his car, and drove to work. We stopped at a Starbucks. He got his coffee, and I got my breakfast.
We walked into the squad room, Gibbs in front of me.
"Hey boss," Tony, or Dinosso, said. "S'up Chloe."
"Hey Dinosso," I replied. I turned to the others. "Hi Ziva, Tim."
"Shalom, Chloe. Have a goodnight's rest," Ziva smiled.
"Yep, sure did. What about you McGee? Sleep well?"
"No," He mumbled. "I was up all night. The people below me kept me up all night with his rock music."
Gibbs answered his ringing phone.
"I don't get you Americans, with your rock music," Ziva said.
"That's why you shouldn't be an American Ziva," Tony said. "You can't be what you don't understand."
"Oh, be quite Tony," I said. "Ziva will make a wonderful American."
Gibbs slammed the phone down, and said, "Dead marine. Let's go." Everyone started grabbing their gear, including me.
I grabbed my badge, hat, and gun. That's right. Gun. My only form of protection.
I thought about my dream and how it had been a year since I saw them last. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up into Gibbs blue eyes.
"Chloe," He whispered. "You okay?"
"Yah, I'm fine," I said nonchalantly. "Just thinking of them." He nodded, understanding. Yes, he knows about them. The whole team does; including Abby, Ducky, and Jimmy Palmer. They also know about me being a necromancer.
We got to the murder sight, and I went straight for the body, Gibbs in tow. I had gotten a lot less queasy around dead people, and found myself being in more control of my powers. Ducky was examining the body, and Jimmy was helping him.
"Ah, Chloe my dear. How have you been?" Ducky asked, his British ascent thick.
"I've been fine. And you?" I said.
"Oh, splendid. Never better." I looked down at the body, and found it covered in tarp.
"Shall I get started," I motioned to the body.
"Well of course. Don't let me get in the way." Ducky backed up, but didn't leave. Neither did Gibbs. They knew I didn't like summoning without someone there.
I found that a dead body is just as good as having something of the desisted. Better actually. I knelt down, pulled the tarp away, and gasped.
"No, no. it couldn't be," I muttered.
"Chloe, what's wrong?" Gibbs asked. The rest of the team came over, wondering what was going on.
"I know her," I whispered.
"How," Tony asked.
"From Lyle house. She was one of the nurses."
"Who is she Chloe?" Gibbs asked.
It had been a year since I saw Chloe. Heard her laugh, saw her smile. It killed me inside, but it was for the best. She was safe were she was. AT HOME.
Someone grabbed my shoulder, and I turned to look at Simon. "I miss her too, bro," He said.
"At least she's safe," I said.
"Yah. Well. Time to go. Where to next?"
"The files said that they have a building in Washington. That's where we'll go."