Gibbs stormed into the basement after they got home, going straight to the boat. He grabbed a hammer and pounded a beam into place, securing it with a few nails. God, he hated slavery. What he wouldn't give for these damn narrow-minded idiots to revise the laws and make everyone equal again. He'd give up cheap gasoline for life if it meant that Tony and Abby and all those other poor, enslaved souls would get their dignity back.

He'd only punched the art store owner three times. He really couldn't do anymore without a real lawsuit on his hands. And he had pissed off Ching-Lan and her people enough this week. Even if that guy did complain, no cop would come knocking. He and Ducky had too good a reputation among the people and the cops for one snotty guy to make a difference. Gibbs snorted grimly. The very slavery he hated was the thing that kept him and those under his roof safe from China's corrupted police and any real altercations. Helping many of the people on Ching-Lan's police force with their problems after The Fall ensured that cops turned a blind eye to any less than legal dealings—like punching a prick in the face because he was throwing his weight around. And people would be wise to learn that DiNozzo was now living under this roof.

Gibbs ran out of nails and paused. An earthquake couldn't jiggle that support out of place. He felt better now. Even peaceful and a little bit embarrassed about the way he had acted at the market. Probably scared the shit out of Tony. But that was worth it if it meant Tony hadn't been captured by that guy. They probably wouldn't have had any trouble at all if Tony was just wearing a collar with Gibbs' name and I.D. He sighed. Ducky would give him hell about not collaring Tony first thing that morning, and Gibbs knew he deserved it.

He plodded up the wooden steps and pushed open the door, peeking out in both directions. Tony was a few feet from the front door with his forehead on the floor and his arms huddled around his head. Abby was standing upright beside him, her arms crossed over her chest and one hip thrust out accusingly. She stared at Gibbs with one brow raised.

"I'm fine, Abbs. Lemme talk to him."

She relaxed and went over to Gibbs, leaning towards him, her voice low. "He's terrified, Gibbs! He's convinced you're going to punish him."

"Abby—."

"What the hell happened? He thinks it's his fault!"

"Hey!" Gibbs interrupted her whispered tirade. "It wasn't his fault. Some guy at the market tried to collar him."

Abby gasped.

"Yeah." Gibbs eased himself down and sat down cross-legged beside Tony. Abby hesitated, wondering if she should stay or leave them alone. She glanced at Tony, but he was still huddled. Gibbs caught her eye and nodded towards the kitchen. She nodded back and disappeared. Gibbs reached forward and touched the back of Tony's head. He winced.

"Sh…" Gibbs soothed. He rubbed his hand over Tony's hair, gradually seeing the younger man relax. "Tony. Look at me." Tony inhaled and lifted himself off the ground. He stared at Gibbs like he was a snarling dog. "You're not in trouble." Gibbs said. "You're not going to be punished. Okay?"

Tony nodded.

"Repeat what I said."

"I'm not in trouble. I'm not going to be punished."

"Good." He reached forward and tilted Tony's face towards the light to survey the red scrape on his cheek he'd gotten when the art store owner hit him. It wasn't bleeding. Gibbs growled. It was his fault Tony had the mark at all. If he had just collared him, none of this would have happened. "I'm not lying to you, Tony. Even if you had laid that guy out cold, I wouldn't do a thing to you." Tony stared at him. "You know that, right?"

Tony looked down and sighed.

"A week ago I would be getting whipped for what happened back there. And now, you and Ducky are here, and so's Abby." Tony blinked as if he still couldn't believe it.

"No one's asking you to hurry, Tony. This is gonna be a long healing process. For all of us—especially you." Gibbs paused and took a breath. "It's not easy to see the people I used to work with as slaves." He added quietly. "Ducky and I don't like that you guys have to kneel around us in public, or keep quiet, or be leashed and collared." He spat the words out.

Tony smiled.

"There's a lot of adjusting for everyone going on now and…I owe you an apology."

"What?" Tony looked up at Gibbs, dumbstruck, before his eyes flicked away.

"I didn't protect you. That guy wouldn't have given you crap if you had a collar on with an I.D. tag."

Tony's mouth hung open in slight shock—after all, Gibbs was apologizing to him. Ducky walked into the kitchen from the living room at the end of the hall. Seeing them sitting there on the floor, he put his book and tea mug on the table and walked towards them. Gibbs kept talking.

"I'm sorry, Tony. If you'd gotten taken it would have been all my fault because I was the one who didn't want the collar."

Tony looked at him quizzically. Gibbs continued.

"I hate to collar you and Abby, but it's necessary to keep you both safe."

"Yes it is, Jethro." Ducky said.

"There was an incident at the market today." Gibbs said. Tony looked down, shamefaced. "Some asshole tried to collar Tony. Thought he was just a loose slave."

"Jethro…" Ducky shook his head, his voice dripping with disappointment.

"I know. You were right, Duck." Gibbs got up and stretched a hand out to Tony, who took it and pulled himself up. Gibbs glanced at his watch. It wasn't even three o'clock yet.

"You want to go get a collar now, Tony? We can get it out of the way."

Tony nodded quickly. Gibbs looked at Ducky and grit his teeth.

"I hate that store, Duck."

"As do I, Jethro. Actually, I am reminded of a gentleman I once knew who—"

"Thanks, Ducky." Gibbs said loudly. He turned and headed quickly for the door, leaving Tony to hear Ducky's time-when.

Gibbs pushed the power lock button on the keys and the black car's locks sprang open. Gibbs slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. Tony scurried out the front door, heading for the car. He paused and glanced from door to door, clearly not sure where to sit. Gibbs rolled down the window.

"Tony."

Scared green eyes met his. "Get in the front seat." Tony nodded and jumped into the car, sitting nervously as Gibbs backed out of the driveway. Fifteen minutes later Gibbs parked in a nearby six-story parking garage and switched off the car.

"Are you alright with this?" Gibbs asked.

"Like Ducky said: necessary evil."

"Right. I don't want what happened at the flea market to happen again—the collar is just for protection, okay? Just like Abby's. It doesn't mean that I own you or any crap like that."

Tony nodded. "Thanks, Gibbs…"

"You're welcome. Come on."

They walked from the garage and down the sidewalk. Saturdays were usually pretty crowded in all the shopping areas. This particular strip mall was similar to the other one and filled with mostly odd specialty shops. They stopped in front of Chainz, the nationwide specialty shop for slave owners. Gibbs was relieved to see that there weren't too many people inside. The door dinged as they walked in and Tony immediately started shaking.

"Sh, Tony." Gibbs reached up and squeezed the back of Tony's bare neck fondly. "Just a collar. And probably a leash too…"

"Sorry, Gibbs. Good things never came from this place."

"Yeah." Gibbs said with a small smile. "I've never bought a collar before. Abby went with Ducky to pick a leash. I only had an I.D tag engraved here for her."

"Really? Abby has a bunch of collars."

"Those are all her own." Gibbs said in an amused tone. "I didn't give a damn what collar she put the I.D on."

"Oh. Right."

Gibbs was disgusted at the extent people would go to humiliate their slaves. There were racks of scanty and bizarre outfits next to shelves of G-strings. Garish jewelry that could be worn on all parts of the body—literally every body part—hung beside a bright, R-rated neon sign.

Tony made a sound in his throat like a whine.

"What's wrong?"

"Morgan liked her slaves to wear jewelry like that." Tony was eyeing a rather ostentatious and intimate piece of metal jewelry that looked really uncomfortable. "The metal ones chafe to hell." Tony grumbled.

"Need any help?" A petite girl with lime green leggings and a neon orange collar bearing a green tag glanced at them from where she was stocking a shelf. A pink cloud of bubblegum blew out of her mouth before popping and being absorbed back between her lips.

"Collars and leashes?" Gibbs said.

"I'll show you." They followed the girl past some more aisles and around a downward staircase labeled 'The dungeon.' Gibbs rolled his eyes and sighed as the sounds of tons of people got louder the closer they came.

Collars and leashes were at the very back of the store. They took up the entire back wall. There was a long glass desk that blocked the customers from getting too close to the wall itself. Each collar and leash hanging was labeled, and you had to ask an employee to see them up close. The wall was packed with customers.

"Marty or Joe or Gina can help you out." She said, gesturing to the employees running around behind the counter.

Gibbs peered up at everything, slightly astounded. "Thanks—" he glanced at her name tag, "Dana, we're good now."

She handed him a number before loping away and Gibbs sighed. There were too many damn choices. Collars in every conceivable color and size were hanging among just as many leashes. Leather, chain, rope, hemp, nylon. Some collars were rigid steel and had to be padlocked around the slaves' neck, others looked as dainty and fine as a necklace. There were leashes that locked into place with a combination lock, and others that had a simple pressure clip. There were colorful patterns on some leashes and matching collars. Some had spikes, some had rhinestones. A man shoved past Gibbs and was gone in the crowd before Gibbs could comment on his manners.

"Stay close, Tony." Gibbs warned. "I don't want to lose you in this mess."

"Kind of ironic, really." Tony said into his ear.

"Hm?"

"I might get lost shopping for the things we're shopping for because I don't have the things we're shopping for."

Gibbs smiled at his wry tone, glad that Tony seemed to be mostly relaxed, despite where they were. He tore his eyes away from the wall long enough to see a woman slamming a thick steel collar around a girl's neck and locking it. It looked just like the one Gibbs had cut away from Tony's neck the other day. The owner seemed entirely too pleased with her task and the girl winced when the steel tightened around her throat. Gibbs noted the pained look on Tony's face, watching them with a mix of empathy and anger on his face.

"Hey, look at me."

The timidity in Tony's hazel eyes made his gut clench.

"Never gonna happen to you again, you hear? You'll never be mistreated again, Tony. You and Abbs both."

Tony took a deep breath and sighed.

"Thanks mast—boss…but…"

"Hm?"

"It just sucks that we can't help 'em all. All the abused slaves."

Gibbs squeezed Tony's shoulder and turned again to face the wall.

"See anything you can tolerate?"

Tony smirked. "Um…something small. Something I can forget about."

"How about that one?" Gibbs pointed. "E603?"

Tony looked up and saw the unassuming, slim, silver chain with a small black leather part that the buckle attached to. The links were flat, so it would lie smooth on his neck. The silver was brushed, not glittering like the others, giving it a slightly more masculine look.

"Really?" Tony brightened.

"Yeah, what do you want—the sparkling pink one next to it?"

"No—It's great boss."

Gibbs could tell Tony really did like it, so he pushed his way to the front desk and waited for an employee.

Above the haze of the noisy crowd, a single voice could be heard, yelling angrily.

"—Fucking idiot! Are you stupid?"

Gibbs couldn't see the yelling man at first, but when the crowd parted, they saw a tall bald man with a goatee raising a brawny arm. He swung, and the sounds of a lash cracking onto bare flesh and an accompanying pained cry made Tony startle hard.

"You will obey me." The man growled. Another lash, another yelp. Tony dropped to his knees and huddled against Gibbs, his eyes glassy with panic and the expression on his face distant. Gibbs knew the signs of PTSD well enough to recognize the terrified look on Tony's face. Sweat coated his flushed skin and his eyes clenched shut.

"Hey, DiNozzo." Gibbs got down on the floor, ignoring the milling people staring at both the angry guy and Tony's reaction. "Sh, sh…" Gibbs rested his hand on the younger man's hair, relieved when the bastard and his poor slave left the crowded area.

"You're alright…." He muttered soothing nothings to Tony until he raised his head and peered around. Recognition spread over his face and he glanced down, realizing that he was on the dirty floor in Chainz.

"Boss, I'm such a fucking mess…" Tony whispered, running a shaking hand through his hair. "Will I ever get back to normal?"

"Yes, Tony. I promise you will. Ducky and Abby and I will see to that, remember? You're not alone here." Gibbs got up and pulled Tony to his feet. An employee rushed up to them.

"E603." Gibbs said. "Eighteen inches. With the matching leash. I'll need an I.D too."

The employee handed him a piece of paper and asked him to fill out his name and anything else he wanted on the I.D tag. Gibbs signed it and neatly wrote his phone number. He didn't deal with all that address and slave serial number bullshit. He wanted the tag to be as small as possible. His name and phone number sufficed plenty.

The man took the sheet and gave Gibbs an order number before running off. They moved to the pick-up area with the other customers. Gibbs sat on a padded chair while Tony sank to his knees beside him. He knew he didn't have to kneel, but Gibbs suspected it was a comfort thing for him. Tony still had issues sitting at the table with them when they ate—and that was in the privacy of home. He wasn't anywhere near ready to sit like a free person in public. Abby had that problem too, for the first few weeks or so. Abby had told Gibbs that Tony might kneel at odd times—old habits die hard, she had stated. Especially when the punishment for not obeying could be a few missed meals and a beating.

Gibbs wanted Tony to start comfortably sitting in chairs like a freeperson, so he allowed Tony to kneel when they were out in public or just sitting around the house. In fact, in public they blended in a lot more when Tony knelt. Most of the other slaves were by their master's feet—some places even had rules that stated your slaves had to be kneeling on the floor. No kneeling, no service. Gibbs tried to avoid those places though, for his friend's sakes.

Gibbs looked around the crowded waiting space. There were all types of owners. One man had clearly allowed his slave to pick his own collar and leash, as the slave took the items happily and placed the collar around his own throat and handed the leash to his master. Maybe they were relatives, Gibbs mused. Or maybe the guy was one of the few non-dick owners Gibbs knew were out there. Unfortunately, many freepeople had chosen the crueler collars and heavier chains that wouldn't be comfortable to wear for ten minutes, much less all the time.

"I had a collar like that." Tony said quietly, his chin resting on Gibbs' knee as he watched a man struggle with the wide, heavy leather collar his owner was putting on his neck. "From Sutton. I hated it."

Once again Gibbs felt a wave of hate for Tony's former masters. Had Tony been treated kinder, he probably wouldn't be so bad off now. Had he been shown decency by the people who owned him, his mind wouldn't have been fucked with so much.

Hopefully. At least, that's what Gibbs told himself. It was a comfort to him, even it didn't really make much sense.

The man at the counter called his number and Gibbs got up. He swiped his credit card and signed his name before taking the bag and gesturing for Tony to get up. "We'll put it on when we get home." Gibbs assured him. Tony nodded, and they left the store quickly.

They slid into the car. Tony clutched the bag like his life depended on it.

"Thanks a lot, boss…I don't—."

"DiNozzo, don't worry about it."

Tony nodded and they went home.

Abby and Ducky were cooking spaghetti and meatballs for dinner when they arrived. Tony's mouth immediately started watering at the smell of garlic and sauce and spices. Tony kicked his shoes off in the front hall and fished the items out of the bag. He smiled at the collar, looking it over and thumbing the tiny I.D tag.

"Seriously, Gibbs, this is really nice of you."

"I wish I didn't have to get you that." Gibbs muttered.

"My other three collars were crap. Believe me, this one is perfect." He unbuckled it and looked hesitantly at Gibbs. It was the general custom for the owner to collar their new slaves, but Gibbs was simply watching him with his hands in his pockets.

"Uh, boss. Do you…?"

"You can put it on, Tony. I don't see myself as owning you. Yeah, on paper I do. And if anyone checks the records, they'll see that you and Abby are my slaves. But when we're around each other, we're family dammit."

Tony grinned and put the thing around his throat, buckling it and adjusting it.

"Feel okay?"

"Perfect." Tony murmured. Gibbs pulled the leash out of the bag and frowned. It didn't look like what he'd expected. He thought it would be one long brushed metal chain like the collar, but instead it was a smooth strip of six feet of black leather with about four inches of chain between the leather and the pressure clip and between the loop handle and the leather as well.

"You like this leash?"

Tony looked over at him and took it.

"Yeah…it's classy. And it just has a regular clip."

"So…?"

The former agent grinned softly. "No one ever trusted me enough to give me a simple clip and buckle like this. Everyone said I was trouble and would run away if I didn't have a padlocked leash around my neck."

"I don't doubt you were trouble, DiNozzo." They exchanged a small smile before Gibbs ushered him into the wonderful-smelling kitchen.

"Oh Tony! It's gorgeous." Abby ran her fingers over the cool metal and hugged him. "So you finally made him official, huh El Jefe?" Abby winked at Gibbs and went to the cabinet to grab dishes. Tony instinctively helped her, taking the plates and setting them on the table.

"Boss, where should I put…?" Tony held his leash up.

"Ooo, a leash too—that's a nice one." Abby exclaimed. "Very masculine. I saw this guy the other day who's owner had him on a purple silk leash with diamonds—."

"Hang it next to Abby's." Gibbs said. Tony nodded and moved to the pegboard by the stairs. Abby's blood-red nylon leash hung by itself on the last peg. Tony placed the black leather handle on the peg beside it, feeling both happy and sad as the clip swung at the bottom, clicking against the wall.

On one hand, he wasn't free. But at the same time, he couldn't ask for a better person to hold the end of his leash. He knew, deep down, that he would be okay and that he would never be hurt again. But that 'deep down' was buried under five year's worth of 'yes master,' whippings, food and sleep deprivation, and all the shit that came with being treated as less than human and even being made to believe that it was true.

To a point.

Tony had never really, really believed he was worthless, despite the hundreds of times he was called so.

He ran his hand down the leash, feeling the cool smooth leather. Yeah, he'd be okay. With Gibbs and Duck and Abbs, he'd be just fine. But right now he was hungry for spaghetti.