A/N: All right-y, guys and girls! This is supposed to be a two-shot for a series of NCIS/Supernatural crossovers that I plan on writing. If you plan on reading this or the continuing series, you should be familiar with AT LEAST seasons 1-2 of NCIS and seasons 1-4 of Supernatural. I don't know how much creative license I'm going to be taking so I don't know if I'll include elements from further seasons of either shows. ^-^" Enjoy!
Tony tiredly followed Gibbs's exit with his eyes, pulling air into his lungs harshly as he fought to obey the man's order. He was disoriented and sick and so very very tired, but he wasn't giving up for any reason. He didn't realize that in his attempt to stay alive and breathing he was hyperventilating. He didn't realize anything. Not even Dr. Pitt coming in and stabbing him with a sedative.
All he could think as the world went black was how he was ordered not to die and how disappointed Gibbs was going to be when he found out that he had failed.
'Please forgive me, Boss,' Tony thought dizzily, slipping into unconsciousness.
-/-
Hours later, when Tony finally awoke, he was greeted by a dark private room and the incessant beeping that every hospital stay provided. He wondered what woke him up when he felt the itching that accompanied being observed. Casting his gaze around the bland room, he noticed a figure standing in the shadows near the door.
"Hello?" Tony called quietly, not wanting to alert the nurses to the fact that he was awake in fear that they would sedate him again. He coughed roughly for a moment before continuing, "Who's there?"
A fluttering sound broke through the still night as the figure came closer to the bed, just enough to be illuminated by the moonlight coming through the window.
Tony assessed the man in front of him. He was short in stature with dark messy hair and piercing blue eyes that reminded him of Gibbs since they seemed to read his soul. The newcomer wore a rumpled suit with a trench coat covering most of it. He didn't seem to be carrying any sort of weapon. That coupled with his aura of innocence and calm let Tony relax just the slightest bit.
Meeting the stranger's eyes, he asked again, "Who are you?"
The man reached out a hand and laid it on Tony's shin, shocking him with it's warmth. "My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord."
Tony gaped. "A w-what?"
Tilting his head, Castiel repeated, "I am an Angel. I know you are not unfamiliar with us, Anthony."
"No. . ." the man in the hospital bed let his voice fade. "If you are who you say you are, then why are you here?"
"I assure you, I am who I say I am," Castiel said calmly. "I am here to help you."
Skepticism flashed across Tony's pale face. "Help me with what, exactly?"
Castiel shifted absentmindedly and Tony caught sight of a black shape stretching across the window. 'That can't be. . .' he thought. 'Is that. . .It is! A wing!'
"In a week's time," Castiel began, breaking Tony out of his musings. "A member of you're team will be murdered."
Tony's face drained of what little color it had.
"You must stop this from happening," the Angel pressed.
"You're damn right I have to stop this!" Tony agreed vehemently. "Who and where?"
Castiel shook his head, "Anthony, I am afraid I cannot give you that information. I am risking everything by telling you what I have so far."
Shaking his head, Tony replied, "You haven't told me anything!"
The air chilled with Castiel's expression. "I am sorry, Anthony, but that is all I can tell you. One of you're team will be murdered in one week and you must stop that from happening."
Tony closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek to hold in a groan. Opening his eyes again, he said, "Can you at least tell me if it's someone on the actual team or if it's someone like Abby or Ducky?"
Castiel gazed out the window then turned back toward the man on the bed, nodding slowly. "It is someone on the actual team."
Faces flashed through Tony's mind—McGee. . .Kate. . .Gibbs. His eyes dropped closed in pain as he coughed, fear tightening his lungs.
"W-what. . .do. . ." Tony gasped harshly. ". . .I. . .do?"
Shuffling closer to Tony on light feet, Castiel put his hand on the man's cheek. He forced their eyes to meet and held that connection as he said, "You stay on guard. Stay alert. And don't let them die. Any of them."
Tony searched Castiel's icy stare and answered, "You said 'them'. That means you do not know which one of them is going to die. It could be any of them. All of them."
Dropping his gaze, the Angel said, "Depending on which circumstance unfolds, yes."
This time, Tony couldn't hold back the groan. "Why are you telling me this? What do you want from me? I can't believe you would give me this information for nothing."
"There is something coming. Something terrible," Castiel said quietly. "We will need your help and the help of your team. The individual powers that can be found in each one of you-and in your Abigail and your Donald-could be the thing that decides the fate of the world."
"When will this happen?" Tony asked, his eyes wide and frightened as he gazed up at the ceiling. There was a quiet hitching in his breathing as he waited for the Angel's answer.
"You will be called when it is your time," came a soft answer before another flutter.
Scanning the room, Tony found himself alone. No Angel in sight.
He sighed. 'First the Plague and now this? DiNozzo, you have really stuck your foot in it. And just how are you going to get it out?'
A/N: So, what did ya think? Should I go ahead and continue? REVIEW! (please and thank you)