Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from NCIS.

Author's Note: A few more complications ahead as we move toward resolution. We still have Tony's letter to read and Kort isn't out of the picture yet.

Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews! I love to read each and every one. I've tried to reply to everybody, but tonight I'm pretty exhausted from work, kids, and typing, so I think I missed a few. My apologies, and know they were still appreciated. I'll do better after this chapter, promise!

Childers stopped in front of a door and waved the gun he was holding, indicating for Gibbs to enter the room first. The lead agent walked where the professor pointed, halting in front of the man. His steel blue eyes sliced into the doctor.

"Whatever you're planning, I won't make it easy."

Childers remained unfazed. "I never expected you would. Step inside, please."

The two men entered a small room bordered by a row of large windows. The glass provided viewing into an area below.

"I thought you might want to see for yourself what I've been doing with Tony. We've been at it for a while now; the fun is really getting ready to start."

Gibbs didn't hesitate; he wanted to know exactly what was happening so he could do everything possible to help DiNozzo. He was still somewhat unprepared for the sight in the adjoining room.

Tony was strapped to a chair and squirming as if trying to escape from the images being displayed on the screen in front of him. His ears had small wires trailing into earbuds; Gibbs suspected unpleasant sounds were assaulting his senses since whenever the agent closed his eyes he would shake his head violently like he was trying to dislodge them. There were various monitors attached to his head, neck and chest; an IV line pumped some unknown substance into his veins.

"I won't do it, I won't hurt him, I don't care what you do to me! You might as well kill me now because I'll never do what you want!" the agent yelled.

Fight them with all you've got, Tony, Gibbs silently encouraged, even as the bottom dropped out of his stomach at having to witness the scene before him.

Somehow they had created pictures of the team dying in various graphic ways; images of Tony himself bleeding and lying dead were flashed on the screen in front of him. Pictures of Gibbs appeared and disappeared intermittently.

Andrew was standing behind a small device; he adjusted a setting and Tony screamed, his arms jerking against the straps holding him in place. "My fucking head is going to explode! You have to stop!" His hair was plastered down from the beads of sweat that covered his pale and blotchy skin, his eyes searched desperately for someone to make the agonizing pain end.

Gibbs placed a hand on the glass and stood stock still, wishing there was some way for Tony to know he was there with him. He turned with a deadly glare toward Childers, who continued to hold the gun toward him. "Ah, ah, ah, Agent Gibbs. Don't try to interfere."

The lab assistant wrote a few notes on a chart before moving back to the device and making another adjustment. Andrew watched Tony's response with a neutral expression.

"Noooo, no, no," Tony yelled, riveting Gibbs' attention to the room below. He could anticipate what was coming before it started. The field agent's body twitched then spasmed in the tell-tale movements of a full-out seizure. His corded neck bulged and twisted with the painful-looking muscle contractions. After several minutes spent straining against the restraints, he sighed and collapsed against the chair, unconscious, his head limply rolling to the side.

Even though seeing Tony lose consciousness frightened him, Gibbs was grateful that for the time being the torture was over and his friend wasn't suffering anymore.

"Being able to turn someone's character and personality upside down in two weeks was quite an accomplishment, don't you think? This time I was hoping to get him to turn on you in a matter of days, but I will have to concede I don't think that is going to work out. He's rather attached to you. Oh well, I'll just have to keep trying. I have a few more ideas up my sleeve."

Gibbs didn't turn around to look at the man behind him when he quietly spoke. "I will kill you, Childers, if it's the last thing on this earth I ever do."

The professor laughed. "You are such a marine! All those threats and posturing! We'll see Gibbs; right now I have the advantage. Come on, I think we need to move you to some new accommodations."

The lead agent reluctantly turned from where he was watching Andrew remove the monitors from Tony's grey skin. He wondered how much of this torment DiNozzo had been forced to endure; it was amazing he had been able to hold himself together at all.

The former gunnery sergeant's jaw clenched tightly. "That wasn't a threat Childers, it was a promise."

The doctor forced Gibbs toward another door that could only be opened with a code. Punching in the numbers, the professor smiled. "Tony was quite used to this room during his previous stay here. I hope you like it as much as he did. And for the record," he added. "Your promises don't scare me."

Gibbs stepped inside the barren white walls that provided no warmth or comfort. "Don't worry, I'll come back eventually," Childers said, and sealed him in.

Ice blue eyes scanned the small space, turning over the fact that Tony had been forced to stay here for days upon days with no food, no water, no idea what was being done to him. It was perfectly understandable why the field agent was on the verge of insanity. Knowing there was nothing he could currently do; Gibbs put his back to the wall and sank to the floor. An opportunity would ultimately present itself; he just had to be patient enough to wait for it.

And pray that nothing else happened to Tony in the meantime.

NCISNCISNCIS

Vance stepped off the elevator and entered autopsy; he was wearing an NCIS sweatshirt and jeans. The frantic call from Ducky hadn't offered much time to put on more appropriate office attire.

Dr. Mallard and Palmer were waiting. Palmer jumped off a gleaming silver autopsy table, Ducky flicked on the lights behind the x-rays. "What is it that's so all fired important to get me up in the middle of the night, Doctor?"

"This. It proves that Professor Childers is behind the abductions and experimentation on the marines we've been investigating and on Anthony. These x-rays all show the same evidence of some type of tiny mechanism surgically implanted under the skull behind the ear. Childers has done extensive research on just such a procedure in conjunction with increased susceptibility for behavioral influence. I myself felt the same type of implant behind Tony's ear. We must get Tony and Gibbs away from that man immediately!"

Vance studied the films lit up in front of him; the implications were obvious. He and the team had been used and the entire government had been duped by the professor. It also meant that Gibbs and Tony were in serious trouble.

"Have you contacted David and McGee?"

"They should be here any time."

The agents, as well as Abby, poured out of the elevator and into the lab right at that moment. "Is this what you were describing over the phone?" Ziva asked, inspecting the x-rays.

"Yes, my dear, I'm afraid so," Dr. Mallard replied.

"That bastard!" Abby exclaimed, scanning the images. "He let us run around here trying everything possible to find out what was wrong with Tony, and he was behind it all along!" Her eyes grew worried. "Has anyone called Gibbs yet?"

Ducky paced nervously. "I tried, but we were disconnected. I have a feeling we were interrupted by Professor Childers; I believe I heard him talking in the background." The ME slammed a frustrated fist on a table. "I should have suspected something sooner! Who knows what he's done to Tony and now Gibbs as well!"

Abby rubbed the ME's shoulders and draped her arms around his neck. "This isn't your fault, Ducky. None of us were suspicious enough of the professor. Don't blame yourself."

"He tried to tell me." Ziva looked up at them, her eyes filled with guilt. "After Tony was arrested, he tried to attack Childers and told me the professor was behind everything. I thought he was just rambling incoherently." She shook her head. "He is my partner and I should have believed him."

Somewhat awkwardly, Vance placed a hand on Ziva's arm. "I heard him, too, Agent David. We had no reason to suspect it wasn't just another hallucination." Vance nodded at Abby. "Ms. Scuito is right, Childers was very clever and has tricked more than just us; he had all of Homeland Security believing him. Let's not waste time blaming ourselves, but focus on how to help Gibbs and Tony."

"We need to get to that clinic," McGee pointed out. "How far away is it?"

"Around six hours," Palmer supplied the answer. "Tony was complaining about the long car ride."

"Can we get a helicopter?" Ziva asked.

Vance pulled a toothpick out of his pocket. "I'll see what I can do. McGee, contact the local authorities and find out if they can get someone over there to check out the place."

"On it, Director."

NCISNCISNCIS

Andrew and the guards brought Tony back to his room and placed him in bed. Childers checked his pulse and blood pressure again with some concern. "His vital signs are elevated; he doesn't seem to be bouncing back as quickly this time. I didn't think we increased the intensity of the process that much."

"It could be where he was already weakened by the previous round of sessions. The seizures aren't helping any," the assistant suggested.

"Yes, we do need to figure out a way to eliminate or reduce those; the effects are exhausting and in a real scenario could cause the subject to be identified. We will have to work on that." The doctor pulled a blanket over the sleeping agent. "I want you to keep a close eye on him tonight; I don't want any more complications."

"What do you plan on doing with Agent Gibbs?"

"I haven't decided yet. We could just kill him, but I'm thinking there must be some way we could use him to increase our control over Tony. I'll come up with something. For right now, he won't be causing us any more problems." The doctor paused. "The bigger issue is his phone call I interrupted. I suspect we'll soon be joined by Dr. Mallard, Director Vance. and the rest of the Major Crimes Response Team." His brow furrowed. "Andrew, I think it's time we move to our northern facility. Prepare to leave early tomorrow. I'd rather be gone by the time Agent Gibbs' colleagues arrive."

"And what about Tony? I expect you'll want to take him with us?" Andrew questioned.

"Absolutely. I have no intention of leaving Agent DiNozzo behind."

"You know he won't cooperate. Do you think you can get him to go willingly or will we have to force him?"

The professor laced his fingers together thoughtfully as he watched the restlessly sleeping man. "Good work, Andrew. I think you might have just figured out how to best use Agent Gibbs."

The young man beamed at the compliment.

NCISNCISNCIS

The team waited impatiently in the bullpen for Vance to let them know if he had procured a helicopter. Thunder and lightning continued to vie for attention in the rain soaked sky; droplets of water pelted the large window panes.

"It's been raining forever! This is not a good sign at all; it's bringing us bad luck," Abby exclaimed, pacing back and forth.

"Rain is a sign of nourishment and growth, Abby. It is not always a negative thing," Ziva commented, putting her arm around the scientist.

"It's bad when the rain won't stop, it's accompanied by sixty mile per hour winds, and they're thinking about giving it a name like Ivan or Katrina. I heard on the news that low-lying areas are starting to flood and some roads have been washed out."

"Which is bad news for us," Vance stated, trotting down the stairs. "Until the storm breaks I can't get us a chopper or any other air transportation. It looks like unless we want to wait, we're going to have to drive."

"What are the chances the storm will pass soon?" McGee questioned.

Vance shook his head. "Not good, I'm afraid. This is part of a slow-moving tropical storm; according to the national weather center we could be looking at another 12 to 24 hours of severe wind, rain, and lightening. Most of the helicopters that are flying are currently doing rescue missions in flooded areas. I don't really want to drive in this mess, but I don't know that we have a choice."

"What about Homeland Security? Won't they help?" Ducky suggested.

Vance laughed bitterly and shook his head. "I've been wasting my time with a series of increasingly dense beaurocrats all night. None of them want to admit they were wrong about the professor and refuse to do anything without more evidence. I've faxed them Dr. Mallard's findings, but I doubt we'll get any assistance from them in time to help Gibbs and Tony."

"McGee, have you contacted the local authorities about going to Childers' clinic?" Ziva asked.

The junior agent nodded in the affirmative. "I have, and they promise to have someone out there as soon as they can. Unfortunately, the storm is complicating that, too; the clinic is located in a rural area with few resources and most of their law enforcement officers are out dealing with weather related emergencies. They promised to try and free someone up to go take a look, but without more concrete proof that Tony and Gibbs are in danger, I don't think it's going to get a very high priority."

Ducky stood. "Then what are we sitting around waiting for? Someone gas the car and let's get out of here!"

Vance frowned skeptically. "I'm not sure you need to come along for this, Dr. Mallard."

Ducky faced the Director, seeming to stand taller than his diminutive height should allow. "We have no idea what kind of condition Tony, or even Gibbs for that matter, will be in when we find them. You said yourself that the storm is making it difficult to get assistance; having a physician with you only makes sense. I must insist on accompanying you."

Vance conceded to the physician's sound logic. "Alright, doctor, you have a point. McGee, David, let's go."

Ziva patted Abby on the arm. "We will keep you in the circle."

Abby took Ziva's face in her hands. "You call as soon as you know something. Promise?"

"I promise Abby."

The Goth nodded, continuing to squish the Israeli's cheeks. "And it's loop, Ziva, in the loop. Now go break all Ninja bad-ass on that doctor. You show him nobody hurts our Tony and gets away with it."

Abby released her friend and Ziva smiled. "It will be my pleasure."

NCISNCISNCIS

Tony awoke to booming thunder. He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head, trying to get his bearings. Dark clouds covered the sun, but even in the semi-darkness he could tell it was late in the morning. Rain continued to strike the window. He had obviously slept through the night and part of the day.

It was an understatement to say he felt like crap. His head reverberated with every beat of his heart and his muscles ached painfully. His brain felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. Tony tried to latch on to the last clear memory he could find, eventually recalling Childers coming into this room to get him. After that, everything took on fuzzy edges; he knew he had been taken back to the professor's lab, but other than that he wasn't really sure.

Gibbs. He could see images of the lead agent flash across his memory; insane pictures of his boss killing people, shooting them, hurting members of the team, hurting him. Tony shook his head despite the pain the movement caused. Childers was screwing with him again; if there was one fact he needed to hold on to it was that under no circumstance would Gibbs ever harm him or anyone else he cared about.

The memories were like scenes from a bad movie, and Tony felt they were having little effect on him. He actually laughed at the knowledge that despite the doctor's best effort, this time the man was making minimal headway. Granted, it had only been two days, but any ability to resist on his part was significant to Tony. It meant that maybe there was a way to outlast the professor's influence and not be turned into one of his pod people.

Gibbs. Where was the lead agent? Tony knew the older man hadn't been in the room with him when Childers had entered earlier, and there was still no sign of him. What in the hell had Childers done? How long had he been out of it? Eight, maybe ten hours? Anything could have happened to his friend and mentor in that amount of time. Regardless of how bad he felt, Tony had to get on his feet and find out if Gibbs needed help.

He threw back the covers and stood, the toes on his bare feet curling into the soft carpet as he tried to find his balance. It took a few seconds, but he was eventually able to move forward without swaying, determined to locate Gibbs and deal with Childers once and for all.

The house was silent save for the snapping and cracking of tree branches flung about by the wind and the pelting of rain against the roof. He padded quietly through the living room, the offices, the kitchen and dining area, the small infirmary, seeing no one. Finally he found himself standing at the end of the hallway leading to the dreaded rooms where Childers had held him captive and conducted his "sessions." Taking a deep breath he inched down the corridor, willing to do anything to find Gibbs, even face a personal demon or two. Trying the doors he discovered they were locked and he had no idea what the code was to open either room.

Sighing with frustration he ran a hand through his hair and leaned heavily against the wall while he tried to figure out what to do next. A part of him wanted to sink to the floor and give up; he was so tired, both physically and mentally, that he didn't know how much more he had to give. But he knew that Gibbs wouldn't quit if the roles were reversed, so he pulled himself together. "Okay, boss," he said out loud. "Where are you?"

The only place he hadn't looked was outside; it was a long shot, but he should probably check the shed. Without further thought he ran for the front door and out into the storm.

The wind buffeted him with stinging bullets of rain; gravel cut into the skin on his bare feet as he jogged along the sodden path. He blinked at the streaks of lightening that lit up the sky like Christmas bulbs. Within minutes his hair was drenched, his grey Ohio State t-shirt and track pants soaked to his flesh. A tree limb bent and cracked sharply, the disconnected limbs rolling down the hill toward the lake. Tony raised his arm to shield his face and eyes from blowing leaves and debris.

Reaching the small building, Tony tugged the door open and slumped inside, momentarily shocked by the sudden lack of blinding wind and sheets of rain. He leaned over and put his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. Looking up through streams of water dripping from his hair, he scanned the tiny space, cursing softly when he concluded he was alone. It wouldn't have made sense for Gibbs to be here in the first place, but he was out of ideas about where to search. Somehow he was going to have to get into those locked rooms; they were the only places left.

Feeling a rush of hysteria, he laughed out loud. "You know, Tony, this reminds me of a movie." He straightened and wagged his finger into the dark. "Could be "I Am Legend", 2008, with Will Smith. But at least in that movie the main character had zombies and a dog to keep him company. Seems like I'm all by myself in this one."

"No, Tony you're not alone."

Tony turned to see the professor framed in the doorway wearing a long raincoat and a hat. He took the hat off and shook the water into the floor.

"What are you doing out here, Tony? You can't be feeling all that well yet, you should be in bed." The professor feigned concern.

"Where is he? What have you done with him?"

"Who, Tony?"

"You know who I'm talking about! Stop playing your stupid mind-games with me! Where is Gibbs, you mother-fucking bastard!" Tony shook with a surge of adrenaline.

"Oh, Agent Gibbs. He's fine, but I'll have to admit he's quite a determined individual. I was sure I could keep our little secret from him for a while longer, but he managed to figure everything out. I guess that's a testimony to his many years as an investigator. Anyway, he's taken up your old room; you know the one you had become so partial to."

Tony started to rush forward, rational thought leaving him, the only idea remaining the urge to kill the sadistic son-of-a-bitch in front of him. Before he had taken two steps, the professor held out a gun.

"Let's not go there again, Tony. I really don't want to have to harm you any more than I already have. Now calm down and let's talk. I'm leaving here later today; I intend for you to come with me."

Tony paused, and as the lightening streaked its way down from the heavens, he had a moment of clarity, and suddenly knew exactly what he had to do.

"I'll go with you," he said flatly. "Wherever you want to take me. I'll cooperate with anything you have in mind, given two conditions. First, you won't harm Gibbs or any of my friends."

Childers considered the offer. "You know what you're anteing up, don't you, Tony? You would willingly give me your mind and your body in order to save him? Knowing what will happen to you?"

There was no hesitation, no second-guessing. The course was set and there was no turning back. "Yes," he replied. His life for Gibbs? It was a no-brainer.

"I think that's a worthy trade, my friend. Gibbs, I believe, would be very proud of your self-sacrifice as opposed to your normal self-indulgence."

"I guess that shows how much you know about Gibbs. He's always been proud of me; it's just taken me a while to figure that out." He moved toward the door, ready to get this over with. "And the second condition is that you take me to see Gibbs. I want a chance to say goodbye."

NCISNCISNCIS

McGee spit water out of his face and tilted his head to the side to clear the wetness from his ears. "You ready, McGee?" Vance asked, yelling slightly so he could be heard over the wind.

"Yeah, sure," the young man answered. He leaned forward and placed his hands on the rear of the SUV.

"Alright, Ziva, give it some gas!" Vance called out. The engine roared to life, the tires spinning in tight circles slinging chunks of mud all over the two agents who pushed the SUV from behind.

The vehicle moved a few inches before settling back into the slick rut it was stuck in. The SUV they were driving had slid off the road after rounding a corner and encountering a small mudslide, which Vance had deftly avoided with some quick defensive maneuvering. However, the result was the SUV had become lodged in several feet of deep, clingy mud.

"Put some muscle into it, McGee!" the Director ordered the slightly built and less than muscular field agent. "Punch it again, Ziva," he yelled. Once more the motor raced. Vance pushed his shoulder against the rear of the SUV; McGee shoved at the same time.

Abruptly the vehicle broke free from the grip of the thick black mud, lurching ahead without warning. McGee lost his grip and slipped several times before splattering face first in the oozing wet muck. Vance stumbled, but managed to keep his footing without hitting the ground.

The Director walked over to the dripping agent, who was sitting up and flinging globs of chunky brown from his hands. McGee wiped thickly caked sod from his cheeks and groaned. He would've sworn it was impossible to feel any wetter than he had before; he was wrong.

"Need some help?" Vance attempted to tug the soggy man from the clutches of the wet earth; Tim slid on the slick surface as he rose to his feet, instinctively throwing his arms over the Director's shoulders to stop himself from falling again. "McGee!" Vance roared, as both men struggled to stay upright and avoid rolling on the cold damp ground once more.

"S….sorry!" McGee forced himself to stand still and not slide around like he was performing with the Ice Capades. He was pressed into the Director, their faces merely inches apart, smearing mud all over the older man's clothes as he hung on to him for dear life.

"Agent McGee, get your arms off me and slowly step away." Vance's voice was precise, measured, and not at all happy.

Tim raised his hands off his superior and inched backward ever so carefully. "Of course, Director." He slipped a bit as he continued to step gingerly and not very gracefully out of the mud. "I'm good," he assured no one in particular.

Vance brushed some of the clinging clumps off his shirt and pants, unable to remove much of the ground-in substance. A brown-coated McGee walked past a smirking Ziva and a grinning Ducky; he held his arms out to his sides trying not to get himself any more drenched than he already was. He cast a sidelong glance at the two of them and scowled.

The frowning Director trudged back to the driver's side of the vehicle. "We're already hours off schedule because of this damn storm. Let's get going." He gave a slight shake of his head at the sight of the younger agent. "McGee, you're in the back. Try not to get mud on everything."

McGee looked down at his sprayed and spattered body, wondering how it would be possible for him to not cover anything he touched in the chocolate colored substance.

Ducky tilted his head sympathetically as the four wet teammates headed back inside the SUV. "Shotgun," the ME burred to Ziva as he moved past her to claim the front seat. She raised an eyebrow but let the older man pass.

Vance pulled out again slowly, ensuring the vehicle stayed safely on the road this time. "McGee, after that last detour, where the hell are we? I have a feeling we're driving around in circles out here."

"Uh, the GPS isn't working, Director, it just keeps saying "acquiring satellites"; must be the storm."

"What's the good old-fashioned map say, Timothy?" Dr. Mallard inquired, hoping Tim's map-reading skills proved to be better than Palmer's.

"The map," McGee repeated. He unfolded the unwieldy paper, bumping into Ziva in the process. "Sorry. I think we stay on this road about ten more miles then make a left. That'll get us back to the main road. I think."

"You think?" Vance repeated.

Ziva reached over his shoulder and flicked a spot of mud off the map. "Oh, thanks. Make that a right, Director."

Vance sighed. At the pace they were driving, requisitioning a horse and buggy might have gotten them there faster.

NCISNCISNCIS

Andrew and the security guards were waiting when Tony and Childers returned to the house, slamming the door behind them to keep the driving rain outside. Tony shook himself to try and get some of the rain off, but he was thorougly soaked and it didn't help much. He shivered in the cold air. Childers handed his gun to Andrew before removing his hat and coat and tossing them on a chair.

DiNozzo stood in the center of the room and waited.

Childers smiled. "Tony has agreed to come with us and continue with our research. But he's requested to speak to Agent Gibbs before we leave. You gentlemen go get Gibbs so he can have one last chat with his boss." He nodded at the guards, who left the room to retrieve the federal agent. "Isn't that what you call him, Tony, your boss?" The professor goaded the younger man. "Do you remember what you told me before? You said Agent Gibbs would kill me when he found out what I was doing. It hasn't worked out that way, has it?"

"Enjoy this while it lasts, Childers. Your time will come," Tony said, trying to project an air of assurance he really didn't feel.

"I admire your confidence, Tony." Childers walked next to him and leaned into his ear. "I think it might help if you could see your idol brought down a peg or two."

"I told you not to hurt him," Tony warned the professor.

Childers laughed. "How about I just promise not to kill him."

Gibbs was walked into the room ahead of the armed guards, both of whom kept their weapons trained on the NCIS agent. "And here he is now."

The silver-haired man assessed the younger agent quickly, trying to determine how he was doing after Childers' evening of torture. Tony was dripping wet, obviously having been out in the storm for some reason, and had crossed his arms trying to ward off the cold. His eyes were darker and more hollowed out than they had been the day before. It was hard to believe this time yesterday they had been out fishing on the lake. "You okay, Tony?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah, boss. How about you? Your arm holding up alright? How long did he have you locked up?" Tony noted the fact the blue sling was missing and Gibbs was holding his injured arm bent slightly and close to his waist. Conjuring up memories of his own time in the white cell, he was also worried about Gibbs having to stay in there for any extended period of time.

Gibbs half-grinned. People could think what they wanted about the sometimes self-centered younger man, but when the situation was serious he always put everyone else ahead of himself. "I'm good, DiNozzo; I barely had time to get bored. I wondered how long it was going to take before Childers here decided he missed me." Gibbs wanted his easy banter to reassure Tony and convey that he hadn't been harmed.

A sharp crack followed by the explosive sound of snapping and crashing interrupted the discussion; streaks of lightning electrified the sky and thunder cracked deafeningly.

"What was that?" Andrew asked.

The professor shook his head. "I don't know, Andrew. Maybe you should check it out," Childers directed.

The assistant looked ready to protest until he caught Childers' no nonsense gaze, and closed his mouth without saying anything. They watched while the young man pulled on a coat and dashed out into the storm; the security guards never lowered their weapons as they waited for his return.

Gibbs decided to use the opportunity to prod the professor. "You do realize that Dr. Mallard knows about your operation. I'm surprised he and Vance aren't here already."

Tony's head popped up at this information. Maybe the situation wasn't so bad after all.

Childers' huffed. "In this storm? I can't imagine they'll get here very quickly. Fortunately, I have a specially equipped Hummer waiting to get us out. Unless they have access to some serious off road vehicles, I'm not too worried."

Andrew opened the door again, the wind catching it and pulling it backward, almost taking him back out, too. The thin young man struggled to get the door shut; Childers finally helped him take the handle and force the door closed against the raging storm.

Andrew was breathing heavily and dripping on the floor. "It was part of a tree. Fell across the driveway; it'll have to be moved for us to get out of here."

Childers considered the situation before addressing the security guards. "You two go take care of it. Get the debris cleared as fast as you can. I want to leave as soon as possible."

Andrew trained his gun on Gibbs again before the guards made their way out into the storm. The silver-haired agent gave the assisstant a challenging stare, which caused Andrew to visibly swallow and readjust his grip on the weapon.

Gibbs frowned and looked over at Tony, who quickly cast his eyes downward. Shit. "Going somewhere?" he asked Childers.

"You'll be happy to know that Tony has agreed to accompany us to another location to help continue our work. Of course, he wanted something in return for his cooperation. I'm sure you can guess the terms of our agreement."

Gibbs sighed and gazed at his senior field agent. Tony pressed his lips together and shrugged. Leave him alone for five minutes and this is what happens. "Tony, you don't have to do this."

"I think I do, boss." Tony's eyes were faintly pleading, trying to express without words that taking this step was something he needed to do, he had to do, for so many reasons he wasn't going to have a chance to explain.

The lead agent turned toward Childers, stepping in close to the professor and taking one last, desperate shot at getting DiNozzo out of this. "Take me instead. Leave him the hell alone."

"Very touching, but I don't want you Gibbs. Tony's the one I've invested my time and efforts in; he's the one I need. Just be grateful he's so willing to give up everything to see you go free."

Rage and fury suddenly blinding him, Gibbs reached out with his right hand and grabbed Childers around the neck and squeezed, sweeping his foot under the man's leg sending him to the floor. Even with his injured left arm still hanging loosely at his side, Gibbs deftly jumped atop Childers using his knee to press into the professor's stomach and his forearm to push Childer's face into the floor.

Tony started to move forward to help, but Andrew stuck the gun he was holding into his back. "Don't move, Tony. This particular fight isn't yours." DiNozzo saw the look of fire that lit up Childers' eyes before the doctor lashed out.

The professor burst into movement, twisting viciously and throwing Gibbs off-balance and forcing him to land awkwardly on the ground, his useless arm striking the hard surface and drawing a gasp from the lead agent. In one quidk movement Childers rolled over and stood up as Gibbs regained his knees. Childers kicked out and struck the former marine's bandaged arm with his foot. The federal agent gasped and fell back down.

The professor smiled. "You and DiNozzo both underestimate me, Gibbs. I'm far more lethal than you ever gave me credit for."

Childers kicked Gibbs in the side, knocking the breath from the silver-haired man. Despite the sharp pain the agent grabbed the doctor's ankle and pulled him off his feet. They scuffled for several seconds. Gibbs attempted to hold himself upright without the full use of his increasingly numb left arm, prior to punching the other man in the jaw and losing his balance again. The professor rocked backward before striking out with a blow to Gibbs' kidneys, which he followed with a fist to the agent's eye. Gaining the upper hand, Childers continued to rain punches on the fading agent who, despite the attack, managed to struggle to his feet.

With renewed force, Gibbs rushed forward and used his lowered right shoulder to shove Childers into a small glass table, knocking a lamp and several vases to the floor, glass shattering around the two men who continued to grapple with one another as they rolled through the broken pieces. Dark red drops of blood spotted the light pine floor. Tony rushed toward the combatants, his green eyes fixed on the large ragged piece of clear glass protruding from Gibbs' thigh.

"Stop!" DiNozzo yelled. "You said you wouldn't hurt him!"

Andrew held the gun in the air and pulled the trigger, the shot echoing throughout the house. All three men immediately ceased moving.

Gibbs knelt on one knee, his hand wrapping his thigh above the dangerously pointed chunk of glass. Blood covered his pants and he breathed heavily, both from the exertion of the fight and the tendrils of pain pulsing through his leg.

"Don't move another muscle," Andrew shouted at Gibbs. "Or I'll put a bullet in his head." The skinny man held the weapon close to Tony's temple. Gibbs tightened his lips and held position.

Childers stood, using the back of his hand to wipe blood from his mangled lips and slowly bleeding nose. A purple bruise was already forming next to his eye. He took several minutes to catch his breath before speaking.

He cleared his throat. "As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Agent Gibbs, Tony is going with us. He did request a final word with you before we leave; which, despite your behavior, I am inclined to permit." The professor stepped next to the field agent. "Make it quick," he whispered. "We don't have time for an Academy Award winning moment."

DiNozzo crossed the floor to where his boss had sunk down. "Here," Tony said, and carefully took Gibbs under the arms and as gently as possible pulled him over to rest against a sofa. "Is that any better?" Tony eyed the shard cautiously.

"Tony, this is crazy. You can't go with him."

Tony leaned down close to Gibbs and laughed humorlessly. "Crazy is as crazy does."

The older man pushed himself up straighter, trying not to grimace. "You don't have to do this, Tony. Not for me."

The senior field agent smiled. "I do, boss. You know me better than that." Gibbs sighed. He did know the other man better than that. Tony would never be able to live with watching him die; he'd rather sacrifice himself. The feeling was mutual; unfortunately Gibbs wasn't in a position to do anything about it at the moment.

"Boss, I wanted to tell you something. About Rota," he paused and grinned slightly. "I never would have taken it, or any other place they offered me. I'd probably come up with some lame excuse about how you and the rest of the team need me…"

"We do need you, Tony," the lead agent said forcefully.

Tony smiled. "The truth is, Gibbs; I need you." He laughed self-consciously. "I always have. Those other places, other teams, they wouldn't matter if I was alone again. You gave me a home, and I could never let that go even to be a team leader. I guess I'm kind of like a stray dog you picked up; I won't go away until you make me. Actually, I'd probably still come back."

"Tony…" Gibbs began; his voice thick with emotion.

The younger man shook his head. "Thanks, boss, for everything you've done for me. I'm so sorry if I've disappointed you."

"You have never disappointed me, Tony. I'm more proud of you right now than I have ever been in my life. Now you listen to me, DiNozzo. You listening?"

Tony couldn't help but laugh at the oh-so-familiar phrase. Gibbs might need to consider getting it patented. "Yeah, boss, I'm listening."

"Don't let that bastard break you. Don't give him a damn inch of you. If it gets tough, just hang on to the fact that I am coming to get you. And I expect to find the same wise-ass, smart-mouthed, arrogant pain-in-the ass you've always been, nothing less. I'll walk through the gates of hell and fight Satan himself to bring you home. Do you understand me?" The wrinkled blue eyes never wavered, never blinked; they held his own with a soul-wrenching intensity.

The field agent's green eyes grew damp. As was normal with their odd-couple friendship, Gibbs didn't have to say the words, but Tony could feel the unexpressed love wrap around him like a blanket. He realized that knowing was enough to help him face what was coming. "I gotcha, boss."

The older man reached out and gently pushed DiNozzo's chin up, which brought another wan smile. "You too, boss." Tony hesitated for a second, before carefully hugging the ex-marine. "I'll see ya." He straightened up and walked back to Childers and Andrew.

Gibbs watched as Andrew motioned for Tony to go to the door, following with the gun still pointed at him. When the door opened another flash of lightening crisscrossed the sky and for an instant Tony was silhouetted against the dark night; in another flash he was gone.

Childers knelt next to Gibbs, staring coldly into his pale blue eyes. "I'll take good care of your boy for you, Agent Gibbs."

Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, the doctor grasped the end of the glass and ruthlessly pulled it out of Gibbs' flesh. The ex-gunnery sergeant screamed and grabbed the wound. Blood gushed around his fingers from the ripped and torn hole.

"Have fun bleeding out, Gibbs. I'll tell Tony you said bye." And with that, Childers was gone, too, leaving Gibbs alone with only the sound of the rain, the wind, the thunder, and the beating of his own heart to keep him company while he watched his blood pool around him on the floor.