Disclaimer: No, I don't own NCIS.
Been working on this for several months now, and finally got it all finished. :) For those of you waiting on updates to my multi-chapter fics, they are being worked on. :)
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"I didn't want them to do that. You know that, right?"
His companion turned from where he was watching the road. "I know."
The two men lapsed into silence for the rest of the drive home, the only sound breaching the thick silence being their breathing. Once they were home they split up, one heading towards the kitchen while the other wandered aimlessly around the house before settling in the living room.
"You want something to eat?" He asked. The other man jumped, having been lost in his own little world as he stared out of the window at the children playing in the street. He shook his head no.
"You sure?"
He nodded, turning back to the window as he heard footsteps behind him, signalling that the other man had retreated.
In the kitchen, the tall thin man sighed, gripping the counter with white knuckled hands. His partner/best friend/lover had been through hell today, so he couldn't blame him for not wanting to eat but still... he worried.
The other man had been missing for six hours and when the team had found him, had been a state, covered in blood from head to toe and shaking like a leaf. The five men who had taken him lay around him. Two had broken necks, one had had his head battered so badly it was a mass of blood and mush. The other two were simply unconscious, but their wounds had been severe. One had ended up in a coma.
They had discovered on arrival back at NCIS that the majority of the blood covering his lover wasn't his own, and the injuries they found were consistent with a beating so no further questions had been asked. The story had stuck, near identical each of the five times it had been told to various personnel before he'd finally been able to take his partner down to the locker rooms to get a much needed shower. While there, he'd discovered evidence of what else had happened there, what the other man hadn't said.
Not one of them had suspected that. His lover had been acting so... so normal when he had been found that none of them had thought to question it, even though they should have, considering what had happened to the three men before. The three men that had died from their wounds in the week that they had been chasing down the killers. His lover had been so stoic, asking what had taken them so long to find him, so casually stating that is was 'only a beating'... he felt like hitting his head against the wall, would've if he'd thought it would make any difference, would do anything if it would just make what had happened to his lover go away.
He'd do anything to make that look go away, the haunted look in the other man's eyes that no-one could see unless they knew those eyes so well that they could tell even the slightest shift in emotion. The two of them could have an entire conversation without speaking, much to the bafflement of the team but they had to keep them on their toes. That was half the fun, he remembered his lover saying once.
Shaking his head to clear it, he made his way back into the living room, perching on the end of the couch and watching his lover watch the window, dinner long forgotten.
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What may have been several minutes, or several hours later the other man finally looked away from the window, starting as he saw who was sitting on the end of the couch. He stood, watching as the other man did too before asking if he wanted to go to bed. He did, and they made their way up the stairs slowly, undressing and climbing into the bed.
He lay down, letting his lover settle himself on top of him as he always did, before stroking his back with soft, gentle hands that contrasted the rough, painful hands that had ran over him earlier that day. His lover didn't flinch, but he was tense even though he was trying to avoid all of the places where he was hurt. Where he was hurt, he thought, his blood boiling with rage as he thought of what his lover had told him hours earlier. What had really happened during those six hours. What he didn't want the others – anyone else – to know. Gentle reassurances on his part had managed to coax the entire, chilling story out of his partner in dull, flat, lifeless tones. He shuddered inwardly, continuing stroking the other man's back to calm himself down.
Nearly an hour later and his lover had finally relaxed. He thought for a moment that the other man had fallen asleep, but then he spoke.
"I didn't want them to do that..." were the last words he heard before the other man fell asleep.
Tony kissed the top of Gibbs' head. "I know."
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Thoughts?