Chapter Two:

Dr. Mallard closed the door behind him as he entered the Summerville home. He kept the action as quiet as possible, but it still seemed to cause a deafening echo throughout the large house. It seemed impossibly, however, that the twenty-one residents were sleeping, except perhaps the younger children. He turned to the hooks beside the door, noticing that every single hook bar one was filled with a jacket. Nobody had left the building besides himself. Everyone was here. Either that, or they had decided to go out without a jacket. The latter seemed unlikely, maybe because nobody would dare face the torrential rain outside without some cover, and he knew that Jethro and Jenny wouldn't have left the children tonight. It was why he had been the one to speak to the police and the doctors - they wanted to be with the children. They needed to be there for them because in all legal and emotional manners, they were their parents.

"Duck,"

He turned at the use of his nickname, the one which was rapidly becoming more used than his given name. He remembered when Anthony had first arrived, very sick from the condition he had arrived with them in, and he'd needed to spent plenty of time nursing the youngster back to full health. Anthony had been withdrawn, and it seemed unlikely for a while that they would ever see the boy smile. 'Did you know', Ducky had told him one evening when his coughs were gradually beginning to reside 'that a mallard is a type of duck?'. Tony had coughed through a tiny laugh. 'You're a duck' he'd decided. Since then, the name had stuck, even with Jethro and Jenny. It was only one person, however, who called him 'Duck' as opposed to the more zoological term.

"Jethro," he greeted. The silence was resumed again, as he turned to the other man, standing at the far end of the hall, right near the entrance to the kitchen.

"Coffee," Gibbs told him.

"Please," Ducky nodded, even though it hadn't been a question.

He moved into the kitchen along with his friend, the two of them standing around as the kettle boiled for a second time. The mug that Gibbs held was still full, so it was no surprise that the water didn't take long to reach the boil.

"All of the paperwork has been sorted," Ducky spoke into the silence. "Caitlyn will remain at the hospital tonight. Tomorrow morning it will be taken to the local morgue to await the funerary arrangements." Gibbs nodded, but said nothing. "Have you contact her siblings?"

"It's late," Gibbs said simply. "I'll speak to the new parents in the morning."

Of course, it wouldn't be as simply as that. They had no contact details for her elder siblings, Jacob and Matthew. All the knew was that Jacob was at college, and Matthew had never been at the home since he was at college when their parents had died. There was no doubt that somebody with Gibbs' connections could find them, but they hadn't seen Kate for many years now. Matthew had children of his own, no doubt. Veronica and Shaun would be another story. They were easily contactable because of the records they held at Summerville, but whether they would want to attend the funeral of the sister they hadn't seen in seven years.

"She's with Daniel now," Gibbs said, drinking his coffee.

Ducky nodded solemnly. "Yes, I recall how close she was to her brother. It is comforting to think they are together now, wherever that may be. How are the other children?"

"Sleeping, mostly," Gibbs told him.

"Mostly?"

"Some are awake," he said vaguely, as if his attention were not all there.

"Abigail?" he questioned.

"She's still shook up," he confirmed.

"She's not alone?" Ducky checked.

Gibbs shook his head. "Jen's with her. Tony, too."

"Timothy?"

"Sleeping, last time I checked in," he nodded. He left out the tiny details, mainly because his mind was too exhausted to explain.

Jenny had spent hours coaxing the younger children back into their bedrooms once the paramedics had arrived, making noise and waking them up. While Gibbs had dealt with the technicalities, Jenny had made sure that all the children remained in their bedrooms as they removed Kate's body from her bedroom. Joshua and Jacob, the five-year-old twins whom had been with them for three years after they had been taken from their mother by social services, had decided once they were awake that they kept needing the bathroom. Jenny had carried them one by one down the hall, holding them to her and insisting that they hid their faces in their shoulder so that they didn't see the blood around Kate's bedroom.

With Jenny distracting the younger children long enough for them to get back to sleep (although how Gerald Jacskson had slept through the commotion being only three doors down from Kate's bedroom had been a wonder to them all) Gibbs had set about settling the older children. He'd found Tony and Abby embracing in her bedroom, Abby dangerously close to crying. He'd sent Tony to take a warm shower, noticing that even though he'd changed into dry clothes he was clearly still soaking wet from the rain underneath his sweater, and his hair was still dripping as well, even though he'd dragged a sweater over it. Once Tony had headed into the bathroom, he turned to Abby, who seemed lost without somebody to hold onto. He'd given her the hug she needed, holding her until her eyes started dropping, before moving her into her bed. She'd suddenly woken up sharply, insisting that she couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep, and might never close her eyes again even to blink. Tony had returned and the two of them had moved down into the TV room.

When they had gone downstairs, Gibbs looked at Tony's door, closing it where he had left it open and ignoring the pile of unwashed clothes he'd let gather at the end of his bed again. They'd deal with laundry tomorrow. On one side of Tony's room was Kate's bedroom, but he turned to the bedroom on the other side of his: Tim's room. The door was ajar, just like Tony's had been, and he stuck his head through the gap. Tim had been sleeping, under the covers with his head on the pillow in a way that he knew Tony and Abby wouldn't be sleeping tonight. In fact, the only sign that something was amiss in this room was that the school books and adventure novels were piled all around the bed. Usually the only book left on top of the blankets was the one he was currently reading. Instead, there must have been every book he owned piled around him, just in case his distractions weren't enough and he needed a change of pace quickly. He removed the books from the bedcovers and put them on the ground, out of the way in case he moved in the night and tripped over them, and then he closed the door behind him.

Once back in the hall, he'd found fifteen-year-old James Palmer walking back to his bedroom. He'd stopped and stared at Kate's bedroom door, and then frowned at Gibbs. When his mouth opened to ask a question, however, Gibbs put his hand on his shoulders and guided him in the direction of his own door. "Back to bed, Jimmy," he'd said softly.

"This was not your fault, Jethro," Ducky told him quietly.

"Wasn't it?" he asked in retaliation.

"Caitlyn made this decision."

"She shouldn't have had the means to make it," Gibbs argued. "The knife she used…it wasn't one of ours."

Ducky frowned. "Illegally acquired?"

"Tony came to me a few days ago, said she'd been hanging around a 'rough kid' at school."

"Surely Caitlyn wouldn't…?"

"I don't know anymore, Duck," Gibbs said quietly. "If he gave her a knife, what else did he give her?"

Ducky shook his head firmly. "Caitlyn was very intelligent, Jethro. She would know not to get herself caught up with illegal substances." He put his hand on his shoulder. "Somebody would have noticed that change in her, of that, I am certain."

"Yeah, you're right, Duck."

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Morning had come all too quickly, mainly because Tony had no sleep the night before. Abby had fallen asleep around three in the morning, an hour after she'd started to let the tears fall once again. He almost wished he had school as a distraction, but there was no such luck as they were greeted with a strangely glorious Saturday morning. Saturday - weren't Kate and Abby supposed to go shopping today? Never mind. Gibbs had somehow carried Abby upstairs and put her back into her bed for a few more hours sleep once the younger ones had started barrelling downstairs, completely ignorant to the events of the night before as they headed straight for the TV room for the Saturday morning cartoon run.

The elder ones were slightly more aware, and much more disheartened. Tim had come downstairs in his sweat pants and a t-shirt with a strange slogan on - apparently in his 'geek speak' it made sense, but Tony hadn't the time to bother understanding. He'd collapsed onto the couch, not complaining as Josh and Jake had piled onto him as a substitute chair. Usually Abby saved him from this fate, but she was asleep upstairs and wasn't there to put her hands on her hips and gently scold the twins for jumping on her Timmy, only to end up with the twins jumping on her, to which she had no complaints. Jimmy came down as if looking for something he was missing that he couldn't quite explain. Michelle, also fifteen, was silent as she bought her one year old sister, Amanda, downstairs with her. Jenny followed them, so it was more than likely that it was Jenny who had dressed and changed Amanda again.

Tony had no heart for the loud chatter of the younger children or the exaggerated noise of their television choices, and had stood up once they turned up the volume. Gibbs usually came in at this point and told them to turn the volume down - a Saturday morning tradition on his way to making the third cup of coffee - but he didn't. He was probably out. Surely he had plenty of arrangements that needed to be made?

He headed out to the stairs that lead away from the front door. Everyone was downstairs, but while upstairs would grant him complete privacy and peace, he didn't want to feel that detached from everyone. He took a seat three steps up and pulled his cell phone, waiting for an answer the other end.

"Chrissie….hi. Yeah, sorry I didn't call last night, something came up…no, I'm not just using that as an excuse…no, really….Look, Chrissie, I had a situation to deal with here last night…yeah, babysitting, whatever…anyway, I'm not going to be able to make our date this afternoon…no, Chris, there isn't another girl…I've just got my hands full here…You know I'd rather have my hands full with you…Well, I can't help it…sometimes, I just have to picture you naked…"

And that's when he noticed he wasn't alone.

Standing on the other side of the stair banister was a teenage girl, and it wasn't the one who was usually eavesdropping on his conversations. He'd expect to see Abby there teasing him about the girls he called, but this wasn't Abby. She just stared at him through the banister and he stared back at her.

"…Chrissie, I'm gonna have to call you back…" he spoke into the phone slowly, closing the phone without listening to the protests she screamed back at him. With that, he turned his full attention to the girl beside him. "Hi. I was just…"

"Having phone sex?" she questioned.

She wasn't local, that much was certain. Her voice was husky, tones of an accent overpowering the way the words rolled off her tongue as if she regularly asked unsuspecting teenage boys that question.

He tried to laugh it off, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he leaned on the stair above him to prop himself up. "Phone sex? No….uh….charades," he corrected.

"Charades?" she questioned. "Like, uh…." she moved her hands as if she were running an old-fashioned video camera.

He smirked. "You've played," he realised.

She just raised her eyebrows at him. "Never on the telephone."

"Oh, yeah," he said enthusiastically. "I was going to meet a girl tonight and she and I were coming up with quotes."

The stranger nodded at him, clearly not believing a word he was saying. "You play charades on a Saturday night?" she asked him accusingly.

He frowned, not liking her teasing. "To kill time before I go clubbing," he said rather grumpily. Not that he could go clubbing, legally. Not that he even played charades, to be honest. "Who are you?" he asked her, not losing his frown as he tilted his head to one side.

"Ziva David," she greeted. Ah, so the stranger had a name. A nice name. An exotic name. Like Xena, he thought. Warrior princess.

"You're not from around here," he assumed.

"No," she confirmed. "I am from Tel Aviv."

"Israel," he nodded.

"Very good," she praised falsely. "You have clearly seen a map before."

"Hilarious," he mocked. "What can I do for you?"

"I am here to see Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Jennifer Shepherd," she told him. "They run this facility, yes?"

"That would be correct," he nodded, sitting up properly. "Look, we got off to a bad start. I'm Tony DiNozzo, and I wasn't playing charades, I was trying to…convince my girlfriend into a certain type of date…"

"A naked date?" she accused him.

"No," he said quickly. She just raised an eyebrow at him. "Look, I'm not the only guy who does it."

"Girls do it, too," she said. "With good looking guys…" He scoffed at her and checked his phone, pressing the 'ignore' button when he saw Chrissie trying to call him back. "And even the occasional girl…"

He looked up sharply, seeing the laughter behind her eyes. "Now you're teasing me," he realised.

"And your girlfriend does not tease you?" she asked.

"Not about sex," he said bluntly. That was his own fault, really. You couldn't assume that a girl who's father was a priest was going to jump into the back of your friend's car with you. "Well, we're not entirely exclusive…"

"She is not attractive?" she asked.

"Not really…." That was a lie. Chrissie was smoking hot.

"Then why did you imagine her naked?"

She'd been here for five minutes, and already she had one-upped him. He glared at her, choosing not to answer her. The answer was obvious anyway - he thought about Chrissie naked because he was a sixteen-year-old brimming with hormones. He rarely got the chance to go out on dates thanks to the Summerville Curfew, something that Gibbs had laid down years ago and something he still wasn't entirely brave enough to break. He was ashamed to say that even though he was never without a girl hanging off his arm, his innocence was still intact despite what he bragged to everyone.

"Look, Ziva, right?" he asked. She nodded, so he continued. "Gibbs isn't here right now. So maybe you can tell me what you want and I can help?"

"Can you take me to Jenny Shepherd?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he said. "If you tell me why you've suddenly materialised here."

She smirked at him as the smell of warm toast filled the air from down the hall. Ziva's smile grew. "She is making breakfast, yes?"

"I guess so," he realised.

"I am sure I can find my way to the kitchen myself."

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Abby sat out in the garden, the sun beaming down on her white paper. She wasn't an amazing drawer, but she could hold a pencil pretty well, and she couldn't help but feel that if Kate were here she'd have been outside in the sun, drawing away. She'd plugged her I-Pod into the portable speakers she'd borrowed from Tim and was playing her music out of it. Tim also sat at the garden table with her, his chemistry book in front of him as he copied out the notes he needed for the test he had on Monday morning. While he was used to Abby's choice of music, this was a play list that he hadn't heard before.

Eventually, he threw his book down with a groan. "Abby, what is with this music?" he asked her.

She didn't look up from the paper she was doodling on as she answered him. "I'm playing it out of respect for Kate," she said simply. "It's what my biological family would have done."

Tim frowned. "But your biological family is in New Orleans," he pointed out.

"So?"

"Don't they play jazz at funerals?" he asked.

She looked up, her eyes narrowed in a scowl. "Coming from the cemetery after the body has been buried," she confirmed. "On the way to the cemetery, they play a dirge. Do you know what a dirge is, Timmy?"

He looked at the speakers for a moment. "Creepy music?" he asked.

"Can you go back inside and let me have some peace and quiet?" she asked him harshly.

He looked at her awkwardly. "I can't."

"Why?" she shot back.

He mumbled his response. "…Gibbs told me to watch over you."

"Oh!" she realised, turning back to her drawing with a small smile on her face. "That is so sweet, Timmy!".