"Look up." Tony whispered in my ear. Though with my bird hearing, it sounded quite clearing in my head. Being extremely claustrophobic, of course, didn't help being trapped inside an extremely inclosed space. Tony wasn't helping either.

"Be quiet." I whispered back. I really needed to think. I replayed what happened in my head. The people I saw weren't Erasers, but they weren't whitecoats either. Hopefully they didn't know my secret and I'm not about to tell them if they didn't. Maybe they weren't after me.

"Gibbs is going to kill me. I mean . . . ." Tony went off on some tangent making an old movie reference. I glared at him. I tried to reach out to make sure I wasn't dealing with Erasers or whitecoats, but first I should deal with Tony.

I tried to sutely make him understand there were cameras watching us, in fact I'm sure he failed to see that. I decided to do it in a way he would understand. I could implant the thought, but that would raise too many questions, plus he would be bragging for weeks. Why did Jenny think I needed a babysitter, well actually I knew exacty why.

Six weeks earlier

I was flying over Washington, D.C. and I was hungry, so I decided to land in an alley, folding my wings in while tying my jacket over my shoulders, hiding my wings. There was a large house that appeared no one was home. There was a door in the back, so I decided to go in that way.

The door was locked, so as silently as possible I forced it open. Trying to find the kitchen, proved difficult. I tried to map out the floor plan in my head, like I did with the mazes. When I finally found the kitchen, my stomach was growling. I hadn't eaten in a long time. It seemed like days, for all I knew it had been.

I pulled open the fridge. There was a carton of strawberries. I quickly grabbed them off the shelf, but put them back when I heard someone enter. I swerved as she began talking, " You know you're leaving fingerprints." I didn't have fingerprints. She continued, "I could call the police, of course. . . " She stopped midsentence when she saw my face, "How old are you?"

"What's it to you. It's not like you'd care." Nobody had cared about me, just what I could do.

"I might if I knew you. You couldn't be more than fourteen."

"I'm fifteen." I protested. I was way too proud. She wasn't an Eraser or a whitecoat. Her thoughts said she didn't suspect a thing.

"And what are you doing looking through my fridge?" I was ready to knock her down and speed out of there, "Where are your parents?" I flinched at that word, my only true weakness. I had no idea who my parents even were. I pushed past the woman, speeding through the halls, trying to get out. The only problem was she knew this house better than me. She blocked my way, and she was holding a gun.

I stopped and answered her question, "I was hungry."

A million questions were running through her head, but she only asked one. "Where's your parents?"

"I have no idea," which was the truth. Plans were running through her head. She settled on one

Still holding her gun, "Come into my office." I followed her silently. She pulled out a pair of handcuffs out of a drawer. Then she handcuffed me to a chair. I started to hyperventilate. I hated being bound in any way. Though I didn't try to struggle, I had learned that much. Jenny pretended not to notice, but I knew she did. She dialed a number on her phone. After three rings, a man picked up his phone.

Jenny started, "Jethro, I need your help. I have a small problem," looking at me, "could you come over."

"Will I need backup?"

"No, I think you alone would be best. Please hurry. She's hyperventilating."

"She?" he asked.

"I'll explain when you get here." She smiled at me.