Rating: M
Characters: Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo, Tim McGee, Abby Sciuto, Ducky Mallard, Jimmy Palmer, Ziva David, Leon Vance, OMC, OFC
Pairings: Gibbs/Tony
Warnings: Rape/non-con, torture, violence, trauma, angst, slash, swearing, mild Ziva bashing (She behaved horribly towards Tony at the end of season 6. I never liked her after that.)
Spoilers: Parts of the end of season 6 and the beginning of season 7
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like to play with them.
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Tony's eyes popped open, his rapid, erratic breath battling to calm his trembling body.
The nightmares began 6 days ago. Images vividly painted in memory; the very thought of them enough to make Tony physically ill.
There were some cases that had stayed with Tony over the years. The cases that both strengthened his resolve to serve and protect, and made him wonder why he even bothered.
The murder of 14 year old Alisa Wyatt was one of those cases.
The image of her body stuffed into the freezer in the back of a shed belonging to 30 year old Paul Ellsworth remained etched in Tony's mind. He would forever be haunted by Derek and Marley Wyatt's primal cries of loss upon learning that their daughter would never be coming home.
So many lives destroyed by that monster. Not only had the Wyatts lost their only child, Paul's half sister Jennifer had also lost her best friend; murdered by the half brother who was also legal guardian to Jennifer and her 12 year old brother Mark, ever since their parents were killed in a car crash three years earlier. So what remained of the Ellsworth family was also torn apart. Having no other living relatives to go to, Jennifer and Mark were put in the foster system. And though efforts were made to keep them together, it didn't work out as they'd hoped. Eventually, the siblings ended up separated.
It was the first homicide Tony ever worked and, though he'd seen many dead bodies in the years since, it was still among the most disturbing in memory. His mind often turned to the Wyatts, knowing they could never recover from the pain of losing their daughter, but hoping they had found some kind of peace.
He also worried for the Ellsworth children. Especially Jennifer. Was she ever able to move on from the trauma of losing her closest friend at the hands of her very own flesh and blood?
That was probably the hardest part of the job to accept. Tony could help bring killers to justice, but he couldn't take away the pain and suffering left in the aftermath of the murders.
Pulling back the covers, Tony sat at the edge of his bed, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm his nerves. "There's no way I'll be able to fall back to sleep now," he thought. "Might as well head into the office to catch up on paperwork."
His mind made up, Tony stood and shuffled groggily into the bathroom. Perhaps a hot shower would calm his frazzled nerves.
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Gibbs glanced over at Ziva as she quietly worked. She'd been focused and diligent ever since the team had rescued her from Africa, and Gibbs couldn't help but think it was mostly a convenient distraction from the hurt at being left behind, and the sadness and loss at her father's betrayal. But he didn't dare bring it up to her. He wasn't much for words, and certainly not one for talking things out. He knew that Ziva was the same, and he respected that she would need to deal with her feelings in her own time, and her own way.
Knowing all this, he was surprised to see the Israeli stand up and tentatively approach his desk.
"Gibbs, I...well, these last several months have not been easy for me. For a long time, I was very angry; with my father, with you..." She looked down at her hands, shame just barely visible on her face. "In Israel, when I forced you to choose between Tony and myself, that...that was not fair to you."
Wiping away a stray tear from her eyes, she laughed awkwardly, as if to betray a sob. "I did not expect you to come and find me after that."
Setting down his pen, Gibbs finally looked up at Ziva. "It wasn't the same without you here. The whole team really fought to get you back. Even DiNozzo."
"Maybe I shouldn't have."
Gibbs and Ziva turned to see Tony standing by his desk, anger, hurt and betrayal clearly written on his face.
"She asked you to choose?" Tony asked in shocked disbelief.
Gibbs nodded. "In Israel. Before we got on the plane back home." There was so much more that Gibbs wanted to say; explanations that would sound more like excuses. Apologies he was too proud to make.
"And you didn't think to tell me that before I went to Africa and let myself be tortured so we could bring her back?! Because I think that's kind of an important detail!"
"Tony. Calm down. You're making a fool of yourself," Gibbs said sternly.
"No," Tony said darkly, shaking his head. "You made a fool of me, by keeping me in the dark. All this time, I've been working alongside someone who doesn't respect me, like me, or even want me around." He gave a joyless, bitter laugh. "Maybe it's my fault. I let her get away with treating me like a doormat for far too long. When I think back on the way she's treated me over the years...the way she treated me before we left her in Israel...You should have told me..."
Tony's voice shifted back and forth between angry indignation and sad betrayal, cracking with heartbreak.
"Tony - " Ziva began, taking a step forward.
"Don't," Tony warned, holding up his hand. Sickened by the sight of the ones who so casually disregarded his feelings, he turned around, walking towards the elevator as briskly as he could manage , while still maintaining a shred of dignity.
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Tony took a long, slow drink of bourbon, convinced he must be some kind of masochist. Choosing one of the drinks he most strongly associated with Gibbs might not be the best way to forget him.
The truth was, for a good part of Tony's life, most things felt temporary. There was no real stability, security or trust. People came and went, promises were broken. Hell, his own father couldn't even be bothered to parent him.
The only thing that felt real in Tony's life was work. More specifically, it was Gibbs. Sure, he was critical, demanding and sometimes mildly violent. But Tony always suspected that Gibbs pushed him so hard because he knew what he was capable of. He believed in him. And Tony was certain that Gibbs would always have his six.
But now, Tony didn't know what to believe. Everything that felt certain and true in his life was now being called into question.
Taking another sip, Tony felt himself slowly becoming numb, despite his very Gibbs-like choice of drink. Just as he was finally starting to make himself comfortable in his bubble of isolated intoxication, a man in his early 20s, who barely looked of legal drinking age, took a seat next to him at the bar and ordered a beer. He was tall, with an athletic build, dark brown hair and startling blue eyes.
"Looks like you could use a friend," the man said casually, looking Tony up and down.
Tony laughed bitterly, already intoxicated enough to let down his guard and be fairly loose lipped. "An offer of friendship from a stranger in a bar. Sounds about right. Empty, meaningless, and ultimately full of shit!"
The man held up his hands in a placating gesture, indicating he meant no harm. "If you don't wanna talk about it, I get it. Sometimes you just need to be alone."
"Alone. Yeah, I'm kind of used to that. "You know, for all the times I've been yelled at, slapped, humiliated and forced to work ungodly hours, I thought my boss respected me. At least a little, you know? I told myself it was tough love. He was only hard on me because he knew what I was capable of, right? Deep down, he cared about me. Right? Wrong! Turns out the guy can't even be honest with me. And after all that shit about the team being a 'family'...Sorry." Tony looked up sheepishly at his drinking companion. "The last thing you need is to hear me go on about how miserable my life is."
"No. It's okay!" the young man insisted. "I'm a psychology major. I'll just think of this as extra credit."
"If you insist, kid," Tony sighed, and proceeded to vent about everything from his father's abandonment to the team's insubordination when Tony was left in charge, to the fresh sting of betrayal that came with learning of Gibbs' secrecy. He was hurt, angry, and his social filter was now nonexistent.
20 minutes later, Tony began to lose his train of thought. Looking up at the stranger before him, he had to admit that he felt a lot lighter, having vented his frustrations to this kind young man. A man who continued to attentively hang on Tony's every word, even though what he said no longer made much sense.
"Y'rre good lissnnrrr," Tony slurred, giving the man a dopey, bleary eyed grin.
The stranger smiled good naturedly. "That's good to hear, considering the fact that I'd like to get paid to listen someday," he quipped, eyeing Tony's empty glass. "But for now, I'd settle for you letting me buy you another drink."
Tony looked at him uncertainly, slightly wobbling where he sat. "I dunno..."
"Come on. I'll even pay for your cab home," the man insisted.
Tony waved his hand permissively, and as he waited for his drink, he felt a wave of gratitude for the friendly stranger.
"Here you go." The young student said warmly, placing a fresh cup of bourbon in front of Tony. "One for the road."
Tony nodded his gratitude. Or, as least he thought he nodded. He couldn't be sure. Taking a swig, he felt the burn of alcohol course down his throat. In the company of a new friend- one who listened without judgement - he let the world slip away.
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Tony awoke in a haze, his head spinning. Blinking, he tried to make out his surroundings. But the room was too bright, and it was hard to focus through his pounding headache. Attempting to turn his head only made things worse, as a fresh wave of nausea washed over him.
"Mm'gonna be sick," he groaned, as he slowly sat up. Then, to his dismay, he realized he was naked.
A weak gasp was all that Tony could manage as panic tried to push itself through the fog of his mind, and his body felt boneless as his upper half began to drop.
But before he his back made contact with the floor, Tony was caught from behind in a strong, firm grip.
"Easy. I got you," a voice said, as the arms holding Tony eased him into the lap of the naked man behind him.
The words were hardly soothing, considering Tony's position. Beyond the fog, Tony was frightened and disoriented. He didn't like feeling out of control, at the mercy of another. Not like this.
As Tony felt the bile rise in his throat, the man holding him held a bucket under his face, petting him gently as threw up into it.
Even in his confused state, Tony knew that the supposed gentleness was all a manipulation. And as he felt the other man's growing erection strain into his backside, he quickly realized what his fate would be.
Driven by fear, Tony tried to break free of the man's grip and run off. But his heavy limbs betrayed him, and he only succeeded in falling flat on his face.
Rough hands pulled Tony up by the hair, and he once again found himself in the other man's lap. Now facing him, Tony recognized his kidnapper to be the young man he'd met at the bar.
"That's what I get for being nice," the man growled. "You just made things a lot harder for yourself, Agent DiNozzo."
Tony couldn't help the whimper that escaped him as long fingers made their way up and down inside his crack before roughly entering him without warning, wiggling around inside, finally making contact with Tony's prostate. He shook, sobbed and cursed, as the man worked up to three, then four fingers inside of him, his body overwhelmed with both pain and - to his great dismay - pleasure. He could feel himself tear, becoming wet with blood.
"Who...a-are y-you?" Tony squeaked, struggling to speak through the pain of the dry friction in his anus.
"You don't remember me?" the man asked in mock hurt, licking the nape of Tony's neck, and laughing at the whimper it elicited."Well, it has been a long time now, hasn't it?"
Removing his fingers from Tony, he lifted a bloodied index finger, painting lines across Tony's cheeks before forcing the digit into his unwilling mouth.
"I'm Mark Ellsworth, and I've been waiting a long time for this."