a/n - That wasn't too long of a wait was it? After this chapter's been up for a day or two, I'm changing the rating to an "M" because we're just abot at the end of what I would consider all right for a lower rating. You've been warned :) I'm also changing things to only accept signed in reviewers. Sorry about that, but I'm really done playing with the troll. However, you might enjoy the new gen story that I'll start posting on Monday. I know you'll enjoy the villain.
Voices downstairs woke Gibbs, but he didn't move, allowing McGee to continue sleeping. Familiar footsteps came close before Ducky spoke. "They're about twenty minutes behind me, Jethro."
That woke Tim and he shifted back off of Gibbs' shoulder. "Sorry, Boss."
Gibbs didn't let him move very far. "Hey, does that help you sleep?" Tim didn't say anything and he didn't look up, but there was a slight nod. Gibbs gently cupped the back of his head. "Then that's the way we sleep. Now, do you want to take a shower before they get here?" Another nod, this one a little stronger and Gibbs helped him out of the bed. At some point during the day, McGee had put on a pair of boxers and once inside the bathroom he shed them before climbing into the shower. He seemed to need the grounding presence of the older man, so Gibbs stayed in the bathroom where McGee could see him.
It wasn't until McGee tried to raise his arms up to wash his hair that he ran into trouble, the hours he'd spent chained leaving his muscles too stiff to move that much.
"Let me do that." Without a second thought, Gibbs pulled off his shirt before taking the shampoo from McGee. He worked the shampoo into Tim's hair, momentarily losing himself in the sensation of running his hands through the fine hair. He watched McGee visibly relax from the scalp massage, so when it was time to rinse, Gibbs didn't say anything, just turned him with a slight pressure on his shoulders. He cupped the side of Tim's head with one hand as he tilted his head back and with the other hand he made sure that all the lather was rinsed away. Next he switched to the body wash and carefully started with Tim's face, working his way down. From his waist, Gibbs moved down to Tim's feet, kneeling down on the wet tile, and working the suds up his legs. Once he reached Tim's groin, Gibbs stood and watched Tim's face carefully.
Tim's eyes had been closed but when Gibbs moved closer, they opened. Never breaking eye contact. Gibbs slowly and methodically washed every inch of Tim's private areas, ignoring how soaked his own jeans were becoming. When Tim's breath deepened and his shaft began to thicken, Gibbs gave him an encouraging smile.
"That's good, Tim. That's real good. I was worried that they'd caused internal damage. Does it hurt?" As he asked, he ran his thumb around the glans and then over the tip before sliding his hand down to shaft to cradle his scrotum.
"My..." Tim swallowed hard. "My balls still ache. They twisted them really hard, Boss."
Gibbs lifted his hand slightly. "Does the support help?"
"Yeah." Breathless, his answer was almost felt more than heard and Gibbs kept the palm of his hand still even as his fingers tenderly stroked the healing flesh behind them. With his other hand he reached up and turned off the water.
"Let's get dried off."
Voices could be heard downstairs as Gibbs dried Tim's body before peeling off his own wet jeans and socks. His boxers were reasonably dry, so he left them on, not wanting to be naked in front of McGee. A quick dig through his dresser found a jock strap and he helped Tim step into it. The sounds from downstairs were increasing, causing Tim to withdraw, so Gibbs carefully adjusted the jock. His fingers traced each strap, making sure they were exactly placed, before holding out a pair of sweatpants. When given the choice between a t-shirt and a long sleeved sweatshirt, Tim opted for the coverage, despite the warm temperature in the house.
-NCIS-
Kort's plans to slip away to the basement were thwarted when Tony blocked his path. "Hey, hope you like Chinese. We didn't know what was your favorite, so we got extra of our usual order plus both egg rolls and spring rolls."
"You don't have to feed me, DiNozzo."
"Perhaps not, but we do owe you a great deal." The feminine voice caused them both to turn. Ziva joined them, kissing Kort on the cheek. "We can never thank you enough, the least we can do is buy you dinner."
"Yeah, man, if Stephenson had been successful... let's just say I'm really glad we didn't have to find out what would have happened." As Tony shook his hand, the sound of heavy boots could be heard approaching.
Kort flinched, his back starting to sting as the numbing agent wore off. "She's not going to hug me again, is she?"
Grinning, Tony moved to intercept the excitable Goth. "Nah, we'll protect you. It's the least we can do."
-NCIS-
Gibbs quickly pulled on the unused t-shirt along with a dry pair of jeans before taking McGee's hand and coaxing him down the stairs. He was trembling by the time Gibbs had him downstairs, but the rest of the team chalked it up to his injuries.
"Here, McGee, you should sit down." Abby was patting a chair, but Gibbs could feel Tim tense up.
"Maybe the couch? Would that be more comfortable, McGee?" Gibbs took him to the sofa and sat next to him. It was apparent to Tony that McGee was using Gibbs as a buffer and he tugged Abby back enough to slow her down.
Abby realized her mistake almost immediately and she quickly backed off, handing over a blanket to cover her movements. "Are you warm enough?"
"Thanks, Abs." Tim took the offering, left over from Kort's nights on the sofa, grateful for the extra layer of protection.
Despite her best intentions, she found herself leaning forward. "We brought Chinese food for dinner and plenty of it. Is Gibbs feeding you enough? You need more than just coffee and..."
Gibbs cut her off with a smirk. "I'm right here, Abby, you know, and I'm quite capable of fixing more than just coffee."
"Absolutely, he warmed up soup last night."
Thrilled to see even a weak attempt at a joke, Gibbs played along. "Hey, I even poured it into a bowl for you. Not everybody gets that."
"And tonight we get plates." Ziva came out from the kitchen with a stack of dishes and silverware, Ducky following behind with the box of cartons, Kort with drinks.
"Hey, Boss, I didn't even know you had that many plates." Tony's joke was strained, but he was happy to see the ghost of a smile from his Probie when Tony received the expected head slap.
The cartons were set out for people to serve themselves, but Ziva filled plates for McGee and Gibbs along with silverware. "Your wrists are probably too sore for chopsticks, McGee."
Tim froze at the comment, realizing that they had probably seen the photos of his injuries. Suddenly even more self-conscious he pulled his sleeves down further before he began picking at his food.
Watching him work around several large chunks of meat, Gibbs reached over with his own fork and broke them in half. He knew Ziva had meant well, but McGee didn't need the reminder of just how much they knew about what had happened. The silence was strained, but just as Abby was winding up to start asking questions, Kort sidetracked her with his own questions about his people's handling of the two vehicles. Given a chance to discuss the technical aspects of the case, Abby was easily distracted.
For his part, Tony tried to act casual as he watched McGee. The younger man glanced over at the wall clock every few minutes and Tony could tell he'd set himself a goal as to how long he could handle being downstairs and surrounded by people. "It's okay, Tim." When McGee looked at him, Tony explained. "Being down here, surrounded by all of us, it's too much, too soon. We just needed to see you for ourselves, even if it was for just for a minute, and it's okay if you need to go back upstairs."
Tim nodded as he poked at his food. "In my head I know you guys aren't going to hurt me..."
"But the rest of you hasn't caught up yet?"
"It's stupid stuff." Tim tried to answer DiNozzo's question. "Hearing all your footsteps... One of them wore all these chains that rattled and kind of sounded like Ziva's key ring. One of them wore the same cologne you wear. One of them had eaten sweet and sour earlier because I could still smell it on his breath."
A glance at Tim's plate showed the sweet and sour pork carefully scooted to one side, and Tony groaned at the inadvertent reminders their visit had brought. "Damn, Tim, I'm sorry. We're all sorry."
"No, it's not you guys, it's me. I can't go through the rest of my life expecting everyone to not clomp around or not listen to the music they had playing, or not wear a cologne."
"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you have to deal with it all tonight either. You haven't even hit the forty-eight hour mark, have you?"
"I guess not."
Tony gave him a sad smile. "In the meantime, we're your friends and if not stomping around in heavy boots and not wearing a certain cologne helps you cope, then it's something we're willing to do. Okay?" Behind him, Abby and Ziva looked equally heartbroken at the thought that they even remotely reminded McGee of what happened.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, me too. Especially since if I'd been more on the ball that night, maybe I could have stopped this whole thing from happening."
"No." Tim glanced at Gibbs, remembering their earlier conversation. "No, he was too committed. I barely questioned him and he me hit over the head the second my back was turned. Besides," Tim shrugged slightly as he confessed. "In a way, you helped saved my life that night."
"How... how do you figure that, Probie?"
Tim stared at his hands, unable to look any of them in the face. "When I woke up naked and hanging from those chains, I knew what they were going to do to me and I knew they sure as hell weren't going to let me go when it was over."
Abby stilled while Ziva swore in Hebrew under her breath. Mouth suddenly dry, Tony rubbed at his jaw as he tried to swallow. After taking a shaky breath, McGee continued as Gibbs rested his hand on his back to help ground him.
"They were punching me and biting me and a couple of them had whips. One of them was claiming first go at me because their last toy died before he got to have him, and then a couple more agreed with him. They said they should be next after him because the last time, the toy had stopped screaming by the time they got their turns."
Another shaky breath and Gibbs wrapped his arm around McGee's shoulders, pulling him closer. "You're doing fine, Tim."
"Anyway... I... I remembered once when we were teasing Tony about always knowing what to say when he was in trouble." Tim finally looked up at DiNozzo. "Do you remember?"
"Yeah, I..." Tony had to clear his throat and try again. "I said that I'd just start mouthing off and eventually the right words would pop out."
"That's what I did. I started talking about how they didn't want to do that, how they were going to regret hurting me and they just laughed and asked who was going to make them regret it. I guess, deep down, I remembered about a club Abby took me to once and I told them my Master would make them wish they'd never laid a hand on me. A couple of them backed off for a second, so I just kept at it. Telling them how my Master would hunt them down and kill them. If they were lucky, they'd never see it coming. They were looking at each other and then one of them asked who my Master was."
"That gave me an opening, and I took it." Kort joined the conversation to fill in the rest. "I've been working the club for about two years, but the CIA has used the cover story of a mysterious master for five or six years. He doesn't lower himself to play at any of the clubs, but he occasionally sends in an underling to conduct business for him."
Putting the pieces together, Tony was able to figure out the rest. "You claimed that McGee belonged to this shadow master."
"Stephenson was pushing too hard and too fast to get into the inner circle, they were already suspicious of him. It was easy to feed on that suspicion, convince them that by giving them Master Gareth's stolen treasure, he was setting them up somehow."
She might not understand the club scene, but Ziva did understand the risk Kort had taken. "If they had not been convinced, you would have suffered the same fate as McGee, yes?"
Kort didn't answer, but he didn't need to. The flicker of unease that crossed his face said it all.
-NCIS-
It was apparent that McGee was almost to the end of his rope, so the team quickly said their goodbyes and left. The three of them had carpooled and Ziva asked to stop at a local home improvement store. Curious, Tony and Abby climbed out of the car to join her, following her to the paint department where she quickly made her choice.
"Dip it? What's that?" Abby picked up another can and started to read the label. "Oh, I remember this stuff now. My dad used to dip the handles of his tools in it to give them a rubber coating. It made them more comfortable to grip."
"In Mossad we use it to coat things we do not want to make noise." Ziva smiled when Tony also picked up a can. "It will not take much to coat the handles of our keys, we can share this can."
Decision made, they returned first to Ziva's apartment. She gathered a handful of clothespins and clipped one one each of her keys, covering the teeth, and then dipped the handle end of each key into the liquid rubber. The clothespin allowed to key to sit above the surface of the table as it dried and a newspaper from the recycle bin caught any drips. Once Ziva's keys were done, Tony and Abby went next to her apartment to repeat the process with Abby's keys.
Tony was the last to arrive home and after he'd finished with his keys, he walked into his bathroom and threw his bottle of cologne in the trash before stripping off his clothes and getting in the shower. He scrubbed until even his imagination could no longer smell the expensive fragrance. That lasted until he went into the bedroom and realized he could smell traces of it on his sheets. Angrily he stripped the bed and took everything down to the basement laundry room of his apartment. Unable to sleep with no bedding, he started on his closet, pulling every garment out and separating them out. The things that needed to be dry cleaned would have to wait until the cleaners opened in the morning, but there were three more empty washers downstairs.
-NCIS-
Gibbs used the excuse of walking Ducky out to ask about the autopsy results, but the medical examiner shook his head. "I'm sorry, Jethro, I wasn't able to start it."
"Why not?"
"Balboa's team caught a murder case this morning. They're already curious about why they have it and not your team. Do you want them to also see Stephenson's body? Carter and Adams were in and out of Autopsy all afternoon."
"Damn it." Gibbs rubbed his forehead, knowing that Ducky had made the right call. Larry Adams was a competent agent, but a horrible gossip.
Ducky patted his arm. "Don't worry, Mr. Palmer's night class will be finished shortly and he's meeting me back aboard the Yard. We'll have the autopsy done and Stephenson tucked away before Adams is even aware that it's morning."
"Thanks, Ducky. Gossip in the agency is the last thing McGee needs to worry about right now." The truth was that he didn't want McGee worrying about anything, and as soon as his old friend was on the road, Gibbs headed back inside to make sure of it.
