Second Chances Chapter 1: Bloodshot Promises, a NCIS + Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Crossover fanfic

Second Chances

Disclaimer:
I own nothing with the exception of Persephone Blackwood.

Rating:
M (Just to be safe)

Genre:
Romance | Angst | Drama | Hurt/Comfort

Pairing:
Tibbs

Lyrics Used:
Aly & AJ – "Promises" | Dove Cameron – "Bloodshot" | Celine Dion – "Ashes" | Luke Bryan – "Apologize"

Bloodshot Promises

"What are you trying to say, Gibbs?!" Tony DiNozzo practically snarled, as he stood toe-to-toe with his lover, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, chest heaving in anger. "Because, it sounds an awful lot like you're trying to accuse me of cheating on you!"

"Well, then, why don't you tell me why Ziva was at your apartment in the middle of the night." Jethro replied, cocking an eyebrow accusingly.

"I already told you." Tony breathed, angrily. "It was a personal matter." He added, eyes boring straight into Jethro's. His usually bright green eyes had gone hard and cold as steel. Part of him hated himself for putting that look there. But he just couldn't shake the feeling deep down in his gut that something was off about Ziva's late-night trip to Tony's apartment. "Not my story to tell."

"Convenient." Jethro replied, returning Tony's steely gaze.

Tony just snorted in derision as he turned to take his leave. Just as his hand gripped the doorknob, he turned back to his lover. "Ya know … There was a time you trusted me completely. That was one of the best reasons I had for giving this …" He paused as he gestured between himself and Jethro. " … a shot." He finished his thought. "But, if we don't have complete mutual trust … Then, what are we even doing here?" He asked – his voice all but begging Jethro to give him something, anything – that would show him that this could be salvaged.

Shrugging, Jethro simply replied "You tell me."

Breathing a deep sigh, Tony told himself he already had his answer. "Well, I guess that answers that." Was his only response before stepping out the door. Neither said as much definitively but they both knew that whatever relationship they'd had was over.

It had been a little over a week since his split with Tony. Everyone at the Navy Yard could tell that the air was cold and heavy between the two agents. They all kept their distance from the agents unless absolutely necessary. Ziva had at least had the decency to look ashamed after the split. McGee had just watched the whole affair like a lost puppy – torn between two masters.

The bullpen had become unbearable. The tension between the team leader and the senior field agent had begun to weigh heavily on all the occupants. The weight had become palpable. "We gotta do something." McGee told Ziva in a hushed tone while Gibbs was in the lab with Abby and Tony was in interrogation. "I don't know what happened between Tony and Gibbs, but I cannot take this tension, anymore." He added. "I can't even hardly breathe on the rare occasion that you actually find the two of them in the same room together."

"I believe … you may be right." Ziva concurred. She had just been about to open her mouth, again, but stopped when she saw Gibbs approaching out of her peripheral vision, flinching out of sympathy when she watched Gibbs bestow a headslap to the back of McGee's head – one that was much harsher than his typical fare. I think it is time Gibbs and I had a little talk … She thought to herself as she suspected that she knew what had caused the rift between Tony and Gibbs. However, in the middle of the bullpen while they were wrapping up a particularly brutal case was neither the time nor the place for the conversation, she knew she needed to have with their fearless leader.

Gibbs was in the basement working on his latest boat when he heard his front door open and close. Knowing, full well, that it would not be the one and only person that he wanted to see at a time like this, Gibbs didn't even bother to look up from his work as the sound of footsteps made their way through the first floor of the house to the door to his basement before all-too-quietly slipping down the stairs into his workshop. David. He thought to himself bitterly as he recognized the stealthy footsteps on his stairs.

"Gibbs." Ziva greeted. Gibbs couldn't help but notice the meek and timid notes of her voice. It wasn't like her. She always sounded so strong and confident and oh-so-sure of herself. However, he couldn't help thinking how she deserved to feel the way that she sounded after what she'd done.

"Dah-vid." Gibbs greeted, his voice far colder and snarkier than usual.

"I need to talk to you." Ziva spoke up, pacing back and forth in front of Gibbs on the opposite side of the boat between them as she anxiously searched her mind for the words to convey her message. She needed to decide how much she was willing to divulge. Previously, she hadn't wished to discuss a word of what she'd shared with Tony on that fateful night with another soul. But Tony was like a brother to her and Gibbs, a father. She loved them both, dearly, and wanted both of them to be happy. She hated herself for tearing them apart. She had to fix this and if she had to bear her soul to the man before her, then, so be it.

"So? Talk." Gibbs barked, gruffly. It was only then that Ziva realized how long she'd remained silent.

"I wanted to say … that … I am sorry." Ziva spoke softly – only just loud enough for Gibbs to hear. Before he could interrupt with yet another reminder about rule number six, she cut him off. She couldn't let him interrupt or else she risked losing her nerve. "And, before you say anything about rule number six … Given the situation and my role in the turn of events that has transpired between you and Tony … I believe I am justified in violating that particular rule." She sighed, heavily as she continued. "I owe you an apology …" She paused, for a moment to steel herself against Gibbs' snort of derision. "I owe you an apology and an explanation."

"'pology's enough for me." Was Gibbs's only, gruff response. He still didn't bother to look up from his work. Nor did he have the desire. Looking Ziva in the eye would only remind him of her and Tony's betrayal. Something he really didn't care to be reminded of.

"Gibbs … There is something I believe you must know." Ziva replied, releasing a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. "I went to Tony's apartment that night because–"

Ziva was cut off by the sound of tools being thrown against the table as Gibbs finally snapped his head up to look her in the eye. The stare was paralyzing as it penetrated straight through to her soul – or at least that was how it felt. "Get out!" Gibbs hissed, dangerously, pointing toward the door at the top of the stairs.

"Gibbs, I–" Ziva began to stammer only to be silenced, once more, as Gibbs slammed his open palms on the table as he rounded the workspace to stand toe-to-toe with Ziva.

"I SAID…" Gibbs roared. "GET! OUT!" By now, Gibbs' chest was heaving with the raging fury that he only just managed to keep contained. The anger bubbling just below the surface caused his entire body to vibrate.

"NO!" Ziva finally declared, matching Gibbs's volume to show her resolve. "I will not leave here until you know the truth of what happened between Tony and myself, that night!" She added, her determination burning bright and hot in her eyes as she stood her ground even as the steely, retired marine tried to intimidate her. He held her stare for another excruciatingly long moment before simply nodding for her to continue, though, he never left her personal space.

Ziva looked to the floor for the briefest of moments as she attempted to gather her thoughts. "That case … The one that we had just wrapped up …" She began, fighting to keep her emotions in check as she prepared to lay her heart out to bear. "… That little girl … The one that we ..." Ziva drew a stuttering, shaking breath before correcting herself. "The one that I … The one that I failed to save … The one that had been so … brutalized and-and-and-and violated … all by the ones charged with caring for her and nurturing her." Gibbs noticed how Ziva's body began to tremble as she recounted the story. Gibbs knew all too well what she was talking about. The young girl they had found had been beaten and raped and abused. It was enough to give even a retired marine sniper nightmares. He tried to focus on where Ziva was going with this rather than lingering on where her words were taking him. "… She was Tali's age." The tears were flowing freely, now, as her voice took on a thick, watery, tone. "Gibbs, when I looked into her lifeless face … All I could see … Was my little sister." Ziva covered her face with her hands before they slid into her hair as she struggled to reign in her emotions before she finally looked back up at Gibbs – holding the man's ice-cold stare – as it began to thaw. "I couldn't sleep … The nightmares were haunting me … I needed to talk to someone, and Tony was willing to listen." She added, finally composing herself. "I did not wish for the whole team to know of my troubles so … I asked Tony not to say anything of our conversation to anyone else." She sighed, shamefully, no longer able to look the team leader in the eye. "If I had known what would happen, I would have told Tony to be honest with you. I would have told him that he has my blessing to tell you exactly what happened, that night. The whole truth."

Gibbs stared the young agent down as she continued her story. As she began to recount her nightmares and troubles that she'd been having, he could tell that she was telling the truth. Nobody could ever fake the haunted look in her eyes as she spoke. His blood ran cold at the realization. Shit. He thought to himself as he realized that Tony had been telling the truth, about that night, too. I'm an asshole. He decided. By the time that Ziva had finished her speech, she was stunned when Gibbs reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. However, she couldn't deny the relief that flowed through her body as she collapsed into the embrace and clung to her only real father-figure as she silently cried through all her guilt and pain and anguish. After several unnaturally long moments, she finally pulled herself far enough away to look up into Gibbs's eyes. "Thank you … Ziver." He breathed, solemnly.

Nodding her head, Ziva quickly wiped away her tears. Upon hearing her nickname, Ziva knew that she'd been forgiven. "No … Gibbs." She breathed, anxiously. "… Thank you." She whispered, gratefully. As much as she wanted to stay and talk through everything Gibbs had been going through, she could tell that the marine needed some time and space to himself to get his head on straight. She moved to take her leave before another thought caused her to pause and turn back to Gibbs. "I know that what happened between you and Tony stemmed from a misunderstanding that I believe I just cleared up … Please … talk to Tony. He needs to know the truth. He needs to know that you believe in his innocence. … Do not wait too long." She advised before turning and climbing the stairs back up to the door.

As the sound of the front door closing hit his ears, Gibbs knew what he had to do. Ziva was right. He had to talk to Tony. He needed to beg Tony's forgiveness. He needed to fix what he'd broken. Before the damage became irreparable. And, he would do whatever it took to do just that. Even if that meant he had to physically get down on his hands and knees and literally beg and plead for forgiveness. With a newfound sense of determination, he turned to toward the stairs – taking them two at a time – as he raced through his living room. Grabbing his phone, his keys, his badge and his gun – out of instinct more than anything else – Gibbs could only hope and pray that he wasn't too late.

Can you use these tears to put out the fires in my soul? | 'Cause I need you here, whoa-oh-oh-oh
'Cause I've been shakin' | I've been bending backwards till I'm broke | Watchin' all these dreams go up in smoke

Tony lay on his back, in his bed, staring up at the ceiling; something he'd been doing a lot since his breakup with Gibbs. Sleep eluded him and, quite frankly, he just couldn't bring himself to give a damn. The few times he managed to fall asleep – however briefly – his sleep was far from restful. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Gibbs and their fight. All these years, Tony'd done nothing to warrant Gibbs's lack of trust in him. Okay, so, there was that whole thing with Jeanne … He silently admitted, to himself. But I thought we'd moved past that.

Tony continued to turn over the same fight in his mind for what had to be the umpteen-millionth time when his thoughts immediately cut short when the sound of someone pounding on his door jolted him from his inner monologue. For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to hope that it could be Jethro. The pounding on his door continued and Tony immediately shook off the stupid, wistful and pathetic daydream. Gibbs wasn't the standing-there-like-a-ghost-shaking-from-the-rain type. "I'm comin'." He groused, trying not to think about how much he sounded like Gibbs in that moment, as he threw a pair of sweatpants and an old NCIS tee shirt over his boxers that he'd stripped down to for bed.

Finally, he made his way through his apartment to his front door as he mentally cursed whoever the hell was pounding on his door the whole time. "What the hell d-" He began to tell off his unannounced and unwelcome visitor as he threw the door open only to be cutoff as his visitor immediately head-butted him, sending him to the floor in an unceremonious heap. Clutching his bleeding and – in all likelihood – broken nose, Tony began to struggle to his feet before a steel-toed boot collided with his chest – effectively knocking the wind out of him.

Looking around his surroundings, Tony spotted his gun on the table by the door. His vision was blurring in and out of focus as he tried to struggle to his feet to get to the weapon. His attacker, however, seemed to sense his plan and stamped down on his arm, earning themselves a pained cry from Tony's lips. Another boot to his face effectively silenced him as the world around him faded to black. The last thing his conscious mind registered was the tell-tale sting of a needle in his neck.

Gibbs drew a steadying breath as he stood outside Tony's door. He didn't know what he was going to say to the younger man. He knew he'd messed up – royally. As much as he believed in his rules, and rule number six was probably the one was most famous for. But, in this scenario, he knew rule number fifty-one far outranked rule number six. So, with one more deep breath for courage, he raised his hand to knock on the door. However, his mind immediately switched gears as he realized the limited force of his admittedly uncharacteristically timid knock caused the door to swing open. Unlike himself, Gibbs with absolute certainty that Tony never left his door unlocked.

Drawing his pistol from the holster on his hip, Gibbs's guard was instantly on high alert as he cautiously entered the apartment. Looking around, the apartment told a story of a violent struggle. Gibbs tried with everything he had to fight back the constriction in his chest at the sight of the blood on the floor: blood which desperately hoped against hope was not Tony's. Steeling his guard, Gibbs stealthily searched the apartment, clearing each room systematically. Finally satisfying himself that the apartment was empty, Gibbs stormed out of the apartment as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He was going to find out what had happened in Tony's apartment the night before. And, he was going to find Tony and bring him home safely. And he was going to find a way to fix things between himself and his younger lover. Now.