A/N: I apologize for the amount of time it took to get this out. Things have been a bit crazy, which made it hard to want to write even when I did find the time to do it. I hope this is worth the wait

Tim stepped into the elevator after Tony. He had been all but crawling into the building to buy a little more time, to wrap his mind around the sudden shift of mood that had settled between them. What the hell happened at that house, Tony? Tony had returned their car to the lot, he had even waited for Tim by the front doors. He had kept Tim's pace across the lobby-refused still, to release his grip on the silence he had laid out over them on their drive back. Tim didn't understand it, felt guilt balloon up in his chest anyway.

He waited for Tony to do something, but Tony had settled into the far corner-silent and dark and still. Tim sighed. He leaned across the gap, and jabbed his finger against the slickness of the button. Tim stared at the doors while they closed.

What do I say here, Tony?

Tim reached up to rub at his nose, the itching had returned in full force. He didn't want to set off another round of sneezing in this confined space-or at all, actually. He'd done enough of that in the last hour or so.

"Allergic to cats," Tim reminded. Tony hadn't actually asked-likely didn't care-but the words felt less crushing than the weight of silence.

Tony glanced at him. It lasted only a few seconds, before he returned his gaze to the doors, but it still felt like a victory to Tim.

He knew that Tony was the senior field agent here, but he still refused to be left behind in the dust. We're a team. Gibbs and Kate are counting on us to act like it. Tim swallowed against doubt, reached out to hit the emergency switch. The lights dimmed at once, Tony's face grew a shade darker to match. The elevator shifted to a short stop. Tim turned to face Tony again, his courage faltering.

"So, you going to tell me why we didn't bring Blaze in?" Tim asked, refusing to look away. Tony stared at him, eyes narrowed into a fairly impressive glare. "The fibers matched the car, Tony. The shoe size was correct. We had that cat. So tell me, why are we here, instead of interrogation?"

Tony's jaw tightened, he shifted his weight off the wall. Tim swallowed. Tony's eyes moved off him and onto the emergency switch, stayed there. Tension rolled off Tony, along with a dangerous amount of annoyance. Tim nearly conceded-nearly reached out and flipped them back into motion.

It might have been the smart choice, the one best for his survival, really. He suspected (knew) though, that doing that meant giving Tony the freedom to run the moment they reached open air. They had both learned far too much about silence from Gibbs.

Tim stood his ground.

"Who'd name their cat Rambo?" Tony muttered after a moment. He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest, hanging his head.

"Thought that'd be right up your alley, Tony," Tim said, forcing a smile. He kept his tone light, hoped Tony would see it for what it was-an olive branch.

Tony shrugged in answer.

"Please, just talk to me, Tony," Tim said, taking a step closer. "I want to understand. What happened?"

Tim thought he had him for a moment, then Tony looked away. He reached around Tim to flip the switch up again. The elevator shifted into motion. Tim sighed, wondered how he had lost his hold on Tony so quickly.

Tim stared at the doors, waited for them to open, in the silence.

"You trust me, Tim?" Tony asked, looking at him. "You'd follow my lead, back me up if I needed it?"

Tim lifted his head. Tony's use of his first name hit him hard, rare and enough of a red flag for Tim to take notice. Never had he heard Tony sound so scared-like he might actually need Tim's help.

Tim studied him, unable to see beneath the surface for anything that might give the game away.

"Thinking of doing something stupid, Tony?"

Tony gave a short nod. He didn't offer any explanation, or excuses.

"Answer the question, McGee," Tony said, as the elevator doors slid open. The conversation was no longer private, and likely an inch from over. "Trust me or not? Need you to back me up here."

"Yeah, Tony," Tim said, stepping out after him. "I trust you. I'd follow you. Why, though?"

"Go talk to Abby," Tony said, heading away from him. "I'll meet you down there."

"And where are you going?" Tim asked. He walked around the corner, headed for the other elevator.

"To let Ajax go home," Tony said, looking over his shoulder. He shifted his weight to look at Tim. "Just couldn't find a single thing on him, McGee. Shame really, but we're out of time. Just have to let him go."

"I really don't think-" Tim started, then swallowed the rest of his words.

He'd follow. He did trust Tony, mostly. Somewhat shockingly.

Tony gave him a small smile, and turned away once more.

Tim sighed, headed into the other elevator, and let the doors close behind him.

"What do you mean letting him go, McGee?" Abby asked, turning on him, her eyes narrowed.

"That's what Tony said," Tim said, shrugging. "He wants us to trust him, Abby. And I really think we should."

"That's just great," Abby muttered. She let out a long sigh, started to return to her work, when Tony moved into the lab.

"Hey, Abs," Tony said. He walked the distance across to her, unable to see (or probably uncaring about) the tension that had filled the room since Tim had mentioned Tony's plan-at least as much of it as he knew.

Tim and Abby both kept their eyes on Tony as he stepped into her space. He didn't smile, gave very little obvious sign that something had changed with him. Tim could see it all the same. The little lines, that seemed to have been etched into Tony's forehead the last few days, had faded. His shoulders were no longer drawn up tight. Tony seemed so much lighter than he had when Tim had left him upstairs. Tim just couldn't quite figure out how letting Ajax go had caused this kind of change.

"Ajax was our best suspect Tony," Abby said, pointing at him. Tim moved his eyes to her. The anger had faded, all her bite had turned back into bark." And you let him go. And what about this other guy? Blaze, why didn't you bring him in?"

Tony moved in beside her, nodded at her screen.

"I know, Abs," Tony said. "Trust me. I need the mics back on. The video too, whatever is left out there. Got a team on their way back out."

Abby sucked in her cheek, turned away towards the computer. She lifted her hands, started typing. Tim watched her. He could see her putting the pieces into place, forced himself to focus on the details in his own head.

It took a moment or two longer than it should have, but Tim caught up.

Crazy maybe, Tony. But not stupid.

"Tony," Tim said, looking him over as the feed of Ajax's house came up again.

"Not all the mics are up," Abby said, watching the screen. "But I think we have enough."

Tony and Abby stared at the screen, and Tim forced his attention to it. Nothing happened. The street there seemed silent and still, and more like a scene from a movie (not that'd he'd mention that to Tony) than an actual place. Still, he trusted Tony.

"We're going to get them back, Abs," Tony said, reaching out and touching her shoulder. He squeezed it, lowered his hand again. "I promise."

She relaxed, turned and wrapped her arms around him. Tony pulled her closer, rested his head against hers. Tim watched, then looked away. He stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. As close as he had gotten to Abby, to Tony even, he still didn't have the kind of friendship those two shared.

Abby stepped back, turned back to the computer.

Tony turned, cuffed Tm's shoulder and flashed a grin that had been missing for several days. It felt good to see, even if they hadn't actually solved everything yet.

"Keep me updated, Abs," Tony said, turning and heading out of the room. "Help her, Tim."

Tim looked over at Abby. She smiled over at him. Exhaustion suddenly faded away, hope replacing it inch by inch. He smiled in return, and he let himself believe they'd see Kate and Gibbs again.

Gibbs

Gibbs kept her tucked into his side tightly. His fingers pressed hard into her skin, just above her hip-the skin was so damn hot there. They'd have to do something about that as soon as they could manage. His heart hammered away inside his chest, his lungs felt short and empty. The world around him threatened to fade away again at any moment. Gibbs allowed himself to slow, Kate matched his pace silently.

Gibbs drew in the deepest breath he could manage. He felt immense relief when his vision cleared up once more. He hated to admit it (and likely never would aloud), but he really needed to see a doctor. And, following that, he needed a couple weeks to sleep this off.

Kate shifted against his side, Gibbs looked down at her. Blood was caked against her cheek, down over her ear. He sighed softly, just resisted pressing his lips to the spot above her wound. How could I let this happen, Katie? He had no words to offer her, no promises that would mean a thing, but he sure wished he had both.

"C'mon," he finally said. He steered them towards the car in the distance.

He didn't actually have a plan. He couldn't seem to think far enough ahead to form one from the scattered thoughts in his head. Doesn't matter. Keep moving. They had to keep going, that's what mattered. He had to get Kate out of here, get her safe.

Kate had her hand tangled in his shirt. Her fingers were curled up against his back, the night air cool against the skin she exposed with her touch. He didn't want her to let go. He needed to keep her close, to remind himself that they were both here-both actually alive, despite the odds.

The walk to the car felt like a small eternity, but at long last they reached it. Gibbs dropped his hand against the back, far too out of breath to pretend he felt ready to take even another step forward. He leaned heavily against the car, while Kate pulled herself away. He let her go, still felt her warmth against his fingertips.

He kept his eyes on her as she checked the passenger door. The handle dropped loudly when it wouldn't budge, and she moved onto the driver's side with a noise of frustration.

"Nothing," Kate said, as he heard the handle drop on the far side.

"I'll go," Gibbs said, pulling himself up. "Stay here."

He turned away from her-didn't yield to the weight of her voice against his back, as she called out reason to him. She also didn't rush after him, didn't try to take her place at his side. He felt more than half surprised (she had a stubborn streak he never wanted to see broken) but the rest of him just felt overwhelming relief. He didn't want her back in that barn. Gibbs couldn't see her in there, her bruised body in the low light. He couldn't do that and walk out again, at least not while leaving those men alive.

Stupid to leave them alive, anyway.

Gibbs stepped into the barn, dust kicking up and spreading out in the moonlight. Gibbs paused, gritted his teeth, clenched his fists. He moved forward slowly, taking one deep breath after another. He squatted near the first man, searched his pockets. Gibbs came up with a wallet-flipped it open to find the smiling face of the man before him, and Gibbs would never be able to understand how someone so ordinary could be so evil-and a cell phone with no reception. Gibbs shifted the man with a grunt, his ribs tightening with the effort. He pulled him the rest of the way to the wall.

He snapped the cuff over the man's wrist, forced it as tightly against the skin as it would go. Gibbs yanked the key up off the ground, shoved it into his pocket with the other items. Gibbs headed over to the other man.

Gibbs repeated the action with the second man, his stomach dropping lower than he thought possible, when he still failed to find the keys to the car. Gibbs rose to his feet, shoving the new items into his pocket. His gut screamed out to him. He knew this didn't make sense, but he had allowed himself to believe the sharp edge he felt had more to do with the past than the present. Gibbs turned, hurried for the door.

"Gibbs!"

Her voice echoed in the barn, in his ears. For a moment, he was right back in that bedroom-Kate reaching out to him still, a moment frozen in his mind forever. Her voice now cut just as deeply into the air, him, leaving him winded and hurting. His body flooded with adrenaline, and his feet found their steps.

Gibbs had to swallow her name as he ran out, it settled like lead in his chest. Gibbs didn't want to give himself away. Kate had the third man, another face he recognized all too clearly, distracted. They were fighting, and despite everything, Kate still more than held her own. Gibbs ran for the car. Kate reached out, shoved the man farther away from her. He stumbled, headed for her again.

The man reached beneath his coat, paused before her. Gibbs thought his heart forgot its next beat when the gun flashed in the moonlight. When it remembered, it felt into a pace that couldn't be safe. Sneaking up on them no longer mattered. Gibbs only wanted that weapon off her, and if that meant it landed on him-then so be it.

"Kate!" Gibbs screamed out.

The man's head turned to him, but he had already been moving. Kate had already been pulling him in closer to disarm him. The first gunshot seemed to stop time, the second threatened to leave him in pieces on this small farm. Gibbs reached them, as Kate shoved again. Gibbs reacted, took over, dropping the man heavily against the dirt.

Wide-eyes looked up at him. The gun became all too easy to wrench away from the man's now limp hand. This man wasn't the leader Gibbs had first thought, just another pawn in what felt like an awfully big game.

Gibbs' hand wrapped around the gun. His brain burned with revenge, pure and molten right down to its core. He knew, with surprising clarity, the last time he had felt this exact way-the last time he had loved someone so much that even the thought of losing them tore away any good he possessed. His finger slid over the trigger-so well practiced- the cool metal pressed into the man's forehead.

"Please," the man said, his pulse thumping wildly in his neck. "I'll tell you anything."

Gibbs gritted his teeth, his finger twitching nearly enough against the trigger.

He doesn't deserve mercy. Didn't give Kate any. None of them did.

He nearly listened. He nearly gave into the dark part of him that always took care of his own, no matter the cost, when he heard her. A hand touched his shoulder, and he tightened against it, before relaxing just enough to let her know he was no longer armed-at least not outside of the gun.

"Don't kill him, Gibbs," Kate said. "We are going to need him."

Gibbs didn't allow himself to look up at her, wasn't sure he wanted to see condemnation in her face-or maybe understanding. Gibbs grabbed the man's throat, squeezed tightly. He enjoyed the way the man's eyes managed to go a bit wider-terrified. He held on a long moment, longer than he should with Kate's hand gripped against his shirt-her voice murmuring softly over him. Finally, he shifted the gun. He brought it down against the man's head. The body went limp beneath him, blood running out of the wound-turning the dirt into mud.

"Let him go, Gibbs, " Kate said. She sounded so gentle, so close.

Gibbs let go, felt something too close to guilt wash over him. His hand still gripped the gun as he turned on her. She stood up straight, showing no sign of fresh injuries or fear towards him

And instead of doing the smart thing, the thing best for her, she took a step closer. Never been a runner, have ya, Katie? She laid her hand over his chest, while his heart beat hard against her open palm. He resisted the urge to pull her closer.

"Gotta get out of here," Gibbs said, shoving the gun into his waistband. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Gibbs," Kate said.

He swallowed a few times, gritted his teeth against the moisture that wanted to fill his eyes.

"I thought-" Gibbs said, clearing his throat.

She knew what he thought, he didn't need to say it.

"He missed, Gibbs," she said. "He didn't get me. Wish I could say the same about the car."

He let himself look at her another moment. He let her be the big picture-the whole picture.

Gibbs finally nodded, moving away and squatting over the man. He dug in his pockets, found a third cell phone-still with no signal- and the missing keys. Gibbs stood again, walked around Kate to the hood. He ran his fingers over the bullet holes that now dotted it. Maybe they had gotten very lucky, maybe none of those rounds had hit anything too important under the hood.

Kate said nothing as he unlocked the car, pulled the driver's side door open. He reached in, pulled the latch to pop the hood. Kate had already pulled it up when he circled back around to the front. At first glance, he thought they had gotten incredibly lucky. He heard the dripping after a moment. Gibbs reached out, running his fingers along the hoses until he found the leak. Gibbs pulled his hand back out. His fingers were coated in black, the liquid glistened against his skin. He reached back in, pushed his fingers against the hole.

"Is it too big to drive?" Kate asked.

Gibbs glanced at her, nodded.

"Not gonna get far," he said. "Best bet is the house. See what's in there."

Kate didn't argue, lowered the hood slowly, he heard it latch again. Gibbs sighed, turned towards the man on the ground.

"You recognize them, right, Gibbs?" Kate asked.

She grabbed the man's other arm.

"All our neighbors," Gibbs said, shifting the man's weight up a little with a wince.

"Haven't seen Ajax," Kate said, pulling her share of the weight up.

"Think this is bigger than we realized, Kate," Gibbs said, and started to pull.

Kate

They had dragged a chair from the kitchen into the living room. Kate and Gibbs had hoisted him up into it, and Kate couldn't help but wonder when the last of her energy would actually be the last of it. How long can I run on nothing? She had let Gibbs tie him up with the rope he had found far too easily. She had turned away from it shortly after it began.

Kate didn't want to see the way Gibbs tightened the ropes into the man's skin, the way they dug in, so close to cutting off the blood. She didn't want to see, because she felt certain there would be satisfaction in watching-Kate wanted to be better than that.

Kate walked slowly to the kitchen table. Gibbs had dumped the keys, the wallets, and the phones onto it haphazardly. Kate opened the wallets one by one, spread the smiling faces out before her. Alex, Ian, and Brad. The first two were in the barn-Kate had no idea if Gibbs had left them alive when he had gone back for the keys-but Brad sat in their borrowed living room, with only a small version of hell waiting for him when he woke up to Gibbs.

Kate had learned early on what Gibbs would do to defend the people he cared about-counted herself incredibly lucky she had become one of those people.

"Okay, Kate?" Gibbs asked, as he moved back into the kitchen.

Kate looked over at him, as he walked to the sink. His cheeks were pale, blood matted the side of his head, stained brown against his shirt. He pulled the gun from his waistband, with a heavy sigh, and slid it out onto the counter beside him. They had one gun between them, one prisoner, and three cell phones that didn't work out here.

Could really use McGee or Abby out here right about now.

Kate drew in a shaky breath, forced panic away again.

Kate walked to the sink, turned the knob. Water flowed out, splashed back up at her. Gibbs handed the glasses over, and she filled them both, before dipping her fingers beneath the stream. It felt cool against her fevered skin, and she didn't want to turn it off. She wanted to dunk her whole body into it-wash until this was all just a dream.

"Come sit, Kate, "Gibbs said, reaching past her to twist the knob. He pulled back, touched her arm.
Kate nodded, grabbed her glass, and followed him to the table.

Kate slid down into the chair near the table. It was solid and hard, and still felt wonderful after so much time spent on the concrete. She ran a trail through the dust on the tabletop with her finger, before putting her cup up on it. Gibbs slid into the chair next to her, put his cup down as well. He met her eyes, gave her a smile that looked more than a little forced.

I don't blame you, Gibbs.

"Who do you think this place belongs to?" Kate asked.

"Don't know," Gibbs said, nodding toward her water. "Drink. Nice and slow. Don't make yourself sick."

Kate obeyed. She didn't bother telling him that she already knew-despite how much her body wanted her to-that she shouldn't just down the water in the glass. She didn't want to end up sick. The coolness of the first sip burned against her throat, and did nothing to actually ease back the intense thirst she had felt for far too many hours. Kate filled her mouth again, waited for him to say something-hoped he would.

Gibbs reached across, wrapped his fingers around her hand. She shifted hers, held onto him. They were silent for a few moments, Kate felt her eyelids drooping. Gibbs squeezed her hand, reached out and brushed his fingers over cheek.

"Little longer, Katie," he said. His voice was soft, gentle, and washed over her slowly.

That voice, Gibbs. You should use it when we're not in danger.

She pulled her eyes open, forced a nod.

"Okay, Gibbs," she mumbled.

"Saw a first aid kit, "Gibbs said, looking back into the living room. "Figure we can-"

Kate heard a groan. She saw Brad start to shift behind Gibbs' shoulder. Gibbs went hard before her eyes, anything gentle between them seemed to be nothing more than imaginary when he rose to his feet and moved towards Brad.