Author's Notes: Ok, maybe the last chapter was too much. In my defense, I've been reading Sherilyn Kenyon's Acheron, and she tortures that poor guy relentlessly during the first half of the book. Maybe my senses have been dulled!
Anyway, some comfort to soothe away the hurt. I hope you enjoy. ;-)
For anyone who has already read this, I removed a weird line at the end that I have no idea where it came from and reposted. Sorry
Chapter 10
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Rick asked, eyes blazing fiercely, his hand clenched tightly around the paddle.
Gibbs could feel ice water flowing through his veins. He hated this man with every fiber of his being, but it was part of his natural personality to grow increasingly calm as the situation intensified. He didn't blink, just stared dead on into slate grey eyes, never breaking their locked gazes.
Most people would drop their stare, or glance away, or at least twitch. To Rick's credit he did none of these things, staying nose to nose with Gibbs and not conceding an inch, anger and barely controlled rage oozing from every pore. He was a taut wire ready to snap.
The NCIS agent nearly smiled. "I'm saving your investment," he replied coldly.
Rick did blink at that comment, his eyes stealing down to the form strapped to the bench, appearing to take the first clinical look at what was happening since the beating started. Tony's entire back and ass were flaming red, and his torso heaved with each desperate breath. Sweat covered him from head to toe, and his hair was now soaked and matted to his head.
"You're going to kill him if you keep this up. I know you want to put him in his place, but I doubt that you wanted that place to be six feet under." Gibbs stated so softly only the two of them could hear. He didn't elaborate further, deciding Tony's appearance spoke volumes.
Rick took a minute to calm himself, breathing slowly and evenly. "Lower your weapon," he directed his muscle bound partner.
Steve's jaw clacked unhappily, but he did as he was told, his eyes making it perfectly clear he would've liked nothing better than to blow the head off this interloper. Gibbs responded with his most insincere grin.
Townsend looked pointedly at his arm where Gibbs still held on tightly and the agent loosened his grip; the former psychiatrist for a second appeared a bit embarrassed by his loss of control. "I let my anger get the better of me," he conceded quietly. "I appreciate the reminder."
Steve joined the pair, a dark scowl on his face. "Are you seriously listening to this guy?" he demanded. "That boy has been nothing but trouble, and he's never going to fall in line if we don't teach him a lesson in fear and respect. He needs to understand his life is at stake if he doesn't start following orders."
Rick glanced at Tony and then at Gibbs.
Gibbs took advantage of the slight hesitation.
"Let me have him," he suggested. "I'll get him to submit without beating him half to death." Everything about his demeanor oozed confidence and authority. "I'll convince him to do it because he wants to, not because he has to." He gazed at Steve with complete disdain.
Rick frowned. "You want to start training him in this condition?"
"Absolutely," Gibbs remarked. "He's completely vulnerable, which makes everything immensely easier with his defenses lowered. Since I'm new and haven't hurt him yet, I should be able to create a bond the rest of you haven't. He'll see me as a protector." Gibbs glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eyes conveying his disapproval of the methods he'd briefly witnessed.
Rick considered the request; he nodded when he'd made his decision.
"Alright, it might actually work. We aren't having success with any other approach, and I can't risk losing another investment. How are you going to do this?"
Gibbs walked over to where Tony's head lay pressed against the table, his eyes firmly shut. He wanted to reach out and touch his agent, but now wasn't the time. "I'll need a room; I want you to take him there now so I can tend to his injuries. I'll have him stay with me full time."
Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Rick held up a hand for him to not speak. The trainer's jaw snapped shut.
Rick rubbed his forehead, trying to ease some of the tension from the past few days. "That's somewhat unorthodox, but I'll withhold judgment until I see if there's any change in his behavior. After our latest fiasco I'm going to have to get double the price I'd intended for him just to make up for the inventory we've lost. Josh," he snapped and a young man bolted forward. "Get Mr. Jackson a room ready in the main building. We'll be there in a few minutes."
"Yes, sir," the tow-headed youth replied, making a quick exit to complete the task.
Gibbs set about detaching Tony's cuffs from the restraints. He didn't like the way Tony was shaking, small tremors racing underneath his clammy skin. His normally golden color was ashen and he was breathing in tiny, shallow breaths.
Gibbs forced his hands to do only what was necessary and resisted the urge to soothe Tony; the longer his second-in-command was out of it the better, since he might get to explain what was happening before DiNozzo woke up and blurted out something that would give them both away. It was a difficult task; the willpower that had been like a suit of armor over the years was nearly shot to pieces.
"Are you sure about this?" The surly trainer asked Rick skeptically while he watched Gibbs' actions. "You just met this guy and you're turning over one of our most valuable assets to him without any questions about what he intends to do."
Rick folded his arms and gave Gibbs an assessing stare. "I have a feeling about Leroy. I think he has what it takes to get this boy straightened out. Are you afraid maybe he'll succeed where you haven't?"
"No, it's just…" the trainer stammered. "I don't want to see this screwed up."
"That's not for you to worry about. Leroy, I'd like you to meet Steve Carter, he's been a trainer for me since I started the business. He's one of the best, but everyone meets their match sometimes."
Gibbs turned away from Tony long enough to extend his hand, which Steve took grudgingly. "I'll introduce you to everyone else later." He looked at DiNozzo, who hadn't moved a muscle even after being released. "Do you think he can walk?"
Gibbs shook his head. "No. Is the building very far away?"
"We can carry him," Rick determined, motioning for a couple of guards to come over and maneuver Tony off the bench. Gibbs contained his anger when Tony slumped forward between them, completely limp and unable to provide even a small amount of assistance in moving his body. They dragged him out of the room and across the compound toward a white two story building that resembled a small hotel; balconies accented the rooms and the entryway was framed by rocking chairs and potted plants. Inside, they were taken down several hallways until they found Josh waiting nervously. He opened a door when they approached, holding it ajar while they manhandled Tony into a large bedroom decorated in sturdy wooden furniture and simple accents. A massive king-sized four poster bed dominated the area, a cozy brick fireplace stood in one corner, and several armoires and vanities lined the walls. The floors were a rich wood with plush area rugs covering various sections. A small pillow topped couch and loveseat framed the fireplace. Gibbs noticed a door on the other side of the room that he assumed led to an attached bathroom.
Gibbs quirked an eyebrow in Rick's direction, silently questioning the opulent surroundings. "We often entertain potential clients – they occasionally like to try out the merchandise before making a bid. They expect the accommodations to suit their needs. This room contains everything a Dom would require to test out a new slave."
Gibbs grunted then nodded at the bed indicating for the men to place Tony on top of it. "Lay him on his stomach," he ordered tersely, his sharp blue eyes watching them like a hawk. "And do it gently."
The guards didn't argue, apparently responding to his toppy vibes. Tony made a small moan when he was jostled into the new position, but didn't move once his long limbs were sprawled across the feather soft mattress.
"I'm going to need to take care of his back. Is there anything in here I can use?" he asked Rick, all business.
The owner led him into the bathroom where he was shown a small closet filled with basic medical supplies, including ointment and bandages. Gibbs nodded his approval.
"There are other things in here as well," Rick explained, guiding Gibbs over to one of the armoires which he opened to reveal paddles, floggers, whips and restraints. Another drawer contained lube, dildos, vibrators, and other toys. "Anything you don't find in here, we might have stored elsewhere. All you have to do is ask."
"Have you started any kind of sexual training yet?" Gibbs asked, nearly afraid to hear the answer. Regardless, he had to find out.
"Not really," Rick offered. "I felt like he needed to be more under control before we moved on to that phase of his education. With the auction coming up soon, that's going to have to change. A client like Nakamura will expect him to be ready to perform immediately."
Gibbs stayed silent; he wasn't sure how to respond. He was extremely grateful to find out Tony was more or less unharmed in that regard, but he wasn't sure what that indicated for the future. Based on what he'd seen so far, escape wasn't going to be easy or immediate – they might be here for a while before he figured out a way to get them out. In that case, the issue of "training" Tony was going to have to be addressed.
"Breakfast is at 8:00 am in the dining hall – it's in the building directly across from this one. Guards are posted in most hallways in case you need anything, or you can call – just hit zero and you'll be put through to the communications room." Rick scratched behind his ear. "Good luck. This could be your ticket to bigger and better assignments if you're successful."
With that comment, he walked out the door. The guards and Josh left too, with Steve straggling behind glaring at Gibbs, not trying to mask his dislike for the new arrival. Steve stopped in front of him.
"I don't know how you got Rick to trust you so fast, but I want you to understand that I'm second in charge here and I don't intend for that to change any time soon. I don't care how good you think you are."
Gibbs had spent a lifetime dealing with idiots like this, so the man's threats and bravado meant nothing to him. He only wanted him gone so he could tend to Tony.
"I have no interest in your job. Just let me do what I was hired to do and stay out of my way."
Steve narrowed his eyes and pushed his broad chest close to Gibbs trying to intimidate with his size. "I'll be watching you."
Gibbs didn't alter his bland expression. "Go ahead," he said, "I got nothing to hide. Maybe you'll learn something."
Steve snorted. "I don't think you'll teach me anything, old man." He pointed at Tony. "You'll need more than luck with that one; I think he's too damn suicidal to be trained." He stomped from the room and slammed the door behind him. It didn't escape Gibbs that the door wasn't locked; he guessed the guards patrolling were enough to keep everyone in line.
Gibbs turned on his heel and headed to the side of the bed where Tony lay motionless. He bit his upper lip and tried to decide what to do next; he needed to assess DiNozzo's injuries but first he had to get him to wake up.
He knelt so he was directly in Tony's line of sight, then gently ran a hand over his agent's hair and the back of his neck. "Tony," he said firmly, "open your eyes for me."
There was no response from the still form. Gibbs let his hand rest on Tony's head and he circled his thumb over the other man's sweat slick brow. "Wake up Tony, that's an order."
Tony's eyelashes fluttered somewhat, but there was no other movement.
Gibbs inhaled sharply and his lips formed a tight line. He squeezed the back of Tony's neck. "DiNozzo," he growled loudly. "Wake the hell up right now!"
Green irises suddenly appeared through tiny slits and Tony's breathing changed from slow and even to harsh and erratic; he blinked repeatedly and let out a soft gasp.
"Hey, calm down," Gibbs directed, placing a hand on Tony's bicep, attempting to ground him with physical touch. "You're ok, everything's ok."
Tony stared directly at him, but couldn't seem to comprehend the image. "B…boss?" he croaked, confused. "Wh….where…." He tried to rise up and look around, but stopped with a sharp hiss and a shudder that forced him back down.
"Don't try to move on your own, I'll help you." Gibbs carefully slid his hands under Tony and eased him over some, trying to help him get into a more comfortable position. "Is that any better?"
Tony looked at him like he was some type of alien life form and not the man he had known for years. "I…I don't understand." He was still breathing heavily, and had started shaking again. Gibbs grabbed a blanket and tossed it over his legs, avoiding the area on his back, concerned about the signs of shock.
"That's not important right now. Tell me where you hurt." His hand drifted over Tony's hair, and DiNozzo closed his eyes. "Stay with me, Tony. I need you to talk to me."
"I….my back and….uh, ass. Hurts really bad." He winced and partially opened his eyes. "Ch…chest….ribs, stomach….everything." His voice was barely a whisper.
Gibbs let his pinky trace the bloody gash on the side of Tony's temple. "How's the head?"
"Feels like…it's going to…explode." His eyes drifted closed and he took several shallow breaths. "Are you….real?" he asked, not looking. His hand slowly moved over and gripped Gibbs shirt sleeve. "Please….please tell me…you're real."
There was a hint of desperation in Tony's voice Gibbs didn't like.
"Hey, I'm really here, see." He stroked his hand up and down Tony's cheek. "I couldn't leave you without someone to cover your six. Look at the kind of trouble you get into. "
Tony looked at him again, and Gibbs was shocked by the unguarded expression. "They've been….I tried….to fight them….I tried," his voice cracked and his green eyes were wet.
"I know, Tony," Gibbs reassured. "I know, but I've got you now. It's all going to be fine, you don't have to fight anymore."
Tony let out a shuddering sigh.
"I need to take care of your back, ok? I'm going to get some supplies in the other room; it'll only take a couple of minutes." Tony tightened his grip on Gibbs' shirt sleeve and he gasped a little harder. "I won't be gone long. I'm not going to leave you; trust me."
He laid his hand on Tony's. "Trust me," he repeated. Tony finally nodded, his heavy eyes never leaving Gibbs' face.
The lead agent quickly gathered what he needed from the bathroom and returned to find Tony once again unconscious, his dark eyelashes contrasting harshly with his pale skin.
Gibbs dipped a washcloth in a bowl of tepid water and rung it out, wiping it over the blood caked on the side of Tony's face. DiNozzo's eyes opened and he flinched.
"Shhhh…I'm just cleaning you up." The strained lines on Tony's face eased some. Gibbs continued to wipe away the blood and sweat. "That's better," he said once Tony's face was clean. He put the towel in the bowl and picked up a gauze bandage and some medical tape. He placed the pad on Tony's discolored temple and tore the tape with his teeth, adhering it in place. Next, he grabbed the tube of antibacterial ointment. "I'm going to rub this on your back; it's probably going to hurt some. Think you can handle that?"
DiNozzo's hand snaked out and twisted in his shirt again. "Ye…yeah." He didn't sound convinced.
The older man squeezed out some of the greasy cream and rubbed it in his hands to warm it. He leaned over and distributed a thin layer over the more prominent marks. A few of the lashes had broken the skin, but most had left swollen, raised abrasions. A large, blackish bruise wrapped around DiNozzo's side. Tony gripped the blankets and groaned despite the delicate touch Gibbs was using. The older man started imagining ways to kill the people using torture techniques that even Ziva would avoid.
He continued to work his way down Tony's back, stopping occasionally to stroke the other man's soft brown hair and say whatever he could think of that might be distracting from the discomfort. Gibbs licked his lips when his fingers ghosted over the younger man's lower back, trying to remind himself this was a strictly platonic moment, and Tony didn't need him to complicate matters with his own inappropriate desires. It didn't make having to treat the welts on Tony's ass any easier; he'd had quite a few fantasies about touching the firm round flesh that was currently spread beneath him.
"Boss?" Tony whispered while Gibbs did his best to knead the cream in without it being too difficult for either one of them. Heat radiated from the reddened area, and the soft butt cheeks quivered and squeezed together when the cool ointment touched his skin. Gibbs could tell Tony was trying his best not to cry out and admired the display of grit.
"I'm finished," Gibbs responded, his voice huskier than he intended it to be. How could he have ever disregarded his attraction to this man? He moved back over where Tony could see him and pushed DiNozzo's hair off his face, wanting to do more but cautious of causing further pain..
He smiled sadly when Tony wrapped his fingers in his shirt again. "What…..what's going on? I don't…." He stopped and took a shaky breath. "Don't understand."
"We're still at the compound. I was able to get in undercover." Gibbs continued to stroke Tony's hair, letting the connection calm them both.
Tony's already hazy eyes grew more confused. "Is anyone….coming to help?"
Gibbs shook his head, determined to explain everything to his agent. Tony would deal with it. "I didn't think it was safe to send a message out, so no, there isn't anyone coming to get us. We're on our own."
Tony hesitated, gathering his strength to continue. "How…how….d'you find me?"
"I followed Nakumara and then I got lucky. They think I'm some kind of super Dom trainer; said you were the worst sub they ever met and gave you to me." He ruffled Tony's hair affectionately.
Tony took a pained breath and his mouth moved again, but nothing coherent came out. "Hey, there's plenty of time for questions after you rest. I swear I won't move an inch. Sleep, and I'll be in this exact same spot when you wake up. Ok?"
He could tell Tony was still fighting to stay awake, and the cloudy green eyes kept staying closed for longer and longer periods as exhaustion refused to let go. Gibbs' hand stayed nestled on the back of Tony's neck, his thumb rubbing circles behind DiNozzo's ear until Tony's tense muscles eventually relaxed and he slept.
Gibbs sighed and shifted his weight, stretching out on the bed next to his agent. He planned on keeping his promise to stay nearby; he put the time to good use by reviewing all that he had seen of the compound, all that he had discovered about the operation, trying to develop a plan to get them safely out and away from this mess. Hours passed, and he dozed a little, never fully settling into sleep, his mind always alert for anything out of sorts. He'd come up with a few sketchy ideas for escape, but needed more information before he would feel comfortable with any of them as viable options. Unfortunately, he couldn't think of any way to avoid being here for at least a short time, which added a layer of complication he wished they didn't have to deal with – he wished Tony didn't have to go through any more.
The younger man whimpered in his sleep, and Gibbs pulled the blanket higher up around his shoulders waiting anxiously until he rested again; at least Gibbs had found him, and whatever happened now it was the two of them together, their fates intertwined and their futures dependent on one another.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony could feel a heavy hand resting on his thigh and he wondered who it belonged to; it wasn't unusual for him to wake up with a stranger in his bed, but it wasn't something he typically enjoyed. Trying to simultaneously remember someone's name while getting them out of his apartment and not being rude or offensive took a lot of effort. He moved a little, and pain shot through his nervous system; his eyes jerked open and he gasped when he met the startling blue gaze of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
"Wh….what?" Memories cascaded across his addled brain and they started to coalesce into coherent thoughts. The pain radiating from various parts of his anatomy provided an anchor into his current reality and forced him to recall most of what had happened the last twenty-four hours.
"You okay?" Gibbs asked, his gruff voice filled with uncharacteristic concern and worry.
"I…forgot where….I was for a minute." His own voice was hoarse and weak; he licked his dry lips to try and find some moisture and attempted to clear his throat. "You're still here," he commented softly, blinking around the room to get his bearings.
"Told you I wasn't leaving," Gibbs answered. Tony didn't clarify that he wasn't afraid Gibbs would leave; when he fell asleep he thought he was dreaming and when he woke up his Boss would have never been there at all. It was a relief beyond words to find out he wasn't alone, even if it meant Gibbs was now in danger, too. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't help it. The shock of the former marine showing up here out of the blue still hadn't quite worn off.
"Do you need anything?" Gibbs asked, and Tony marveled at his decent and unexpected imitation of Florence Nightingale. "How about some water?"
Water sounded great, but other needs were more pressing. "I gotta….go to the head," he responded, recognizing that it was his aching bladder that had probably caused him to wake up in the first place.
"Alright. Here." Gibbs leaned down and eased his arm under Tony's chest, slowly rolling him over and lifting him forward. It caused Tony's ribs to protest, and the agony in his back flared anew. He clenched his teeth and hissed, unable to stop the mild shaking that coursed through him when he had to sit up and put pressure on his still burning ass. "Slow and easy," Gibbs coached. Tony looked at him like he was a replica of the man he'd known for so many years; he'd never experienced such a gentle Gibbs before – not with him anyway. This was the Gibbs reserved for children, the elderly, and the widows of dead marines. Not his senior field agent.
"I can do it," Tony protested, trying to salvage some dignity. Unfortunately when his feet touched the floor and he attempted to stand, he knew it was a futile effort. The room swayed around him and he was overcome with dizziness that rendered him completely unbalanced. An arm curled gently under his shoulder and around his back, holding him up.
"Not the time to be stubborn, DiNozzo." Tony gave up the pretense that he was anywhere near alright and let Gibbs shuffle him across the floor; Tony halted their progress about halfway to their destination.
"Hold on…a minute." A cold wave of sweat swept over him and he swallowed down the urge to puke. Gibbs didn't say anything, just kept him from falling over. When he felt steadier he nodded, and they moved forward again. Tony tried to ignore the fact that his fully clothed boss was guiding his bare naked ass across the floor; if he'd felt better he might have mustered the energy to be embarrassed by it or at least take advantage of it. Currently he could do neither. When they finally reached the toilet he put a hand on the sink to keep his balance and glanced sheepishly at Gibbs, who moved over to the doorway but didn't leave. Tony tried to ignore the fact it was Gibbs hovering while he did his business, and managed to pee without too much trouble beyond some pain and a burning sensation. He stepped back from the toilet when another bout of cold sweat hit him and he realized the room was spinning dangerously.
"Boss," he choked out right before his legs buckled and everything went grey for a minute; the next thing he knew Gibbs' arms were pulling him up and he was leaning against Gibbs' chest.
"Shit, DiNozzo." Gibbs was staring at the pinkish liquid in the bottom of the porcelain bowl. "You're pissing blood. How'd you get these?" he asked angrily, his hand touching the purple and green bruises covering Tony's side.
"I…uh…" Tony couldn't come up with an explanation since he was concentrating too much on standing up.
Gibbs' nostrils flared before he supported his protégé out of the bathroom, across the floor, and deposited him back on the bed, carefully lowering him down on his front. By the time Tony was prone he was soaked with sweat again and trembling violently. He couldn't decide which area of his body hurt the most since every part of him seemed to throb, pound, or burn equally.
"What the hell did they do to you?" Gibbs demanded sharply.
Tony blinked dazedly, trying to keep up with Gibbs' questioning. He could feel himself sinking fast. "Tied me up….kicked me….sorry Boss," he attempted to answer without the benefit of fully functioning brain cells.
"Ah, hell, Tony, you got nothing to be sorry for. Here." Gibbs took the washcloth and wiped away the newest layer of sweat from Tony's face. "I shouldn't have let them get you in the first place. I should have never sent you home. If you'd been with me this never would've happened."
Gibbs swept Tony's hair back and let rough knuckles trace down his cheek to his jaw.
Tony stared with a sense of disbelief. "Why…why are you doing that?" His voice cracked. "Why…are you…." He couldn't make sense of any of it…Gibbs was here, treating him like a day old kitten who'd been abandoned by its mother. It was nearly beyond his comprehension. Gibbs yelled at him, threatened him, demanded from him – Gibbs wasn't nice to him. Not like this.
"Touching you? Gibbs finished his sentence for him. "Because you want me to; because I want to." He said it without hesitation, like it was a statement of fact similar to 'the sun will rise again in the morning'. "Do you want me to stop?"
Tony tried to find words to respond but there was a lump in his throat that he couldn't dislodge so he shook his head mutely, closing his eyes when Gibbs stroked his cheek again. It was the most bittersweet feeling he'd ever known.
Before he could even try to say anything they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
Gibbs grabbed a blanket and tucked it around Tony, whose eyes had grown round with fear. "Boss?" he whispered. "Are they….are they taking me…." He tried to control the quiver in his tone, but really, it was all too much to deal with. The kidnapping, the torture, finding Gibbs here – he couldn't stand the thought of enduring any more.
"I'll take care of it," Gibbs stated brusquely, "no one is taking you anywhere."
Tony watched him storm across the room and fling open the door and he almost felt sorry for whoever was standing on the other side. He'd only seen Gibbs like this a few times before; after Kate died and when the former gunnery sergeant was trying to protect Maddie Tyler were grim examples of Gibbs in hyper-protective mode. It was a revelation to be on the receiving end of that fierce protection. He was humbled and awed since it was something he'd never expected – Gibbs had always counted on him to take care of himself. Even when Tony'd had the plague and Gibbs ordered him not to die, the boss left him alone to follow the command without any babying or hand holding. Something in Tony's stomach fluttered when he realized Gibbs was doing this all for him.
Tony could see Josh standing in the hall, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Rick told me to bring you something to eat," he stammered, reminding Tony a little bit of McGee. "I made a couple of sandwiches and warmed some soup….I thought you might want to let Tony have some if he's been good so far."
"What the hell do you mean I might want to let him eat? Why wouldn't I let him eat?" Gibbs barked.
Josh's eyes dropped to the floor. "He only eats if he follows orders, shows respect – you know the Dom thing? I figured you had the same kind of rules." The kid looked slightly bewildered at the silver haired man.
Gibbs glanced over his shoulder at Tony, taking in the thin frame of his agent. Tony knew he'd lost some weight, but he wasn't sure how much. Gibbs' eyes were ice cold stones as he put the pieces together and Tony could practically see the rage wafting off him like thin wisps of smoke.
His boss turned back toward Josh. "Give me that." He snatched the tray of food from the kid's hands and used his foot to kick the door shut in the stunned face.
He brought the food over and sat it on a table by the bed. Tony tracked him with his eyes since it hurt too much to do anything else.
"When was the last time you ate?"
Tony tried to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal. "I had some….bread….um…yesterday….I think." He coughed a bit at the end, his head and ribs strongly protesting the action.
"Yesterday, you think? What did they want you to do to earn the right to eat?"
"Boss…." Tony could feel the clammy sensation return, and he wasn't sure if he could open his mouth without throwing up. Gibbs must have noticed, because a bowl appeared seconds before he started heaving, tiny streams of bile coming up from his stomach.
"It's alright, Tony, I didn't mean to upset you." Gibbs forced a glass of water at him when he was finished. "Try to drink some more." Tony took a few sips before shaking his head. The water was wonderful, but his stomach couldn't take much of it at the moment. "Can you eat now?" Gibbs asked. Tony considered the idea and shook his head again. He was starving, but he was also certain anything he ingested would come right back out and he didn't have the strength to throw up again. His mind drifted out of focus, and he thought he heard Gibbs saying his name but it was so small and far away he couldn't really tell. When the words finally made sense, he realized Gibbs was asking what was wrong. "Hurts," he said honestly, seeing no point in lying when his entire body ached like an abscessed tooth.
He must have looked fairly pathetic because he'd never seen Gibbs quite so concerned; his forehead furrowed and his eyebrows knitted together. The older man abruptly stood up – Tony forced himself not to reach after him - and went to a phone on a table near the wall. He punched a few numbers. "Tell Rick I need a doctor in here now. I don't give a shit, just do it!" He slammed the phone back in the receiver and returned to the side of the bed where he sat down and went back to stroking Tony's hair. "I'm going to get you some help, DiNozzo. Hang in there."
Tony let his hand curl up in Gibbs' shirt once more, reveling in the smell of Old Spice and sawdust that lingered on the man regardless of how long it had been since he'd last seen the basement. "Just don't…..leave." The fear of closing his eyes and Gibbs being gone was more than he could tolerate. With Gibbs here now he could endure anything, but alone….he couldn't keep fighting them alone. He was so damn tired.
"I'm not going anywhere," Gibbs promised, repeating it over and over like a mantra, never letting his hand stray from Tony's brow. There was something so soothing about the repetitive movement, about the calm voice and comforting words that eventually the grey that had been edging Tony's vision took over and he let himself sink down into a quiet layer of darkness.
NCISNCISNCIS
McGee stood in the doorway of Abby's lab and watched her flit about mumbling to herself. She simultaneously checked something in her microscope, typed into her computer and started a search, and reviewed a report from Major Mass Spec. In between all the activity, she wrung her hands and shook them out, pacing relentlessly from one machine to another.
She suddenly stopped moving and stood very still. "McGee!" she practically shouted. "Stop staring, it's creepy!"
"Sorry, Abs," he apologized, not asking how she knew he was there. "I didn't want to disturb you."
She spun around to face him and he held a Caf-Pow in front of him like a shield. "Thanks," she said softly, taking it from his hand.
"How's it going?" he asked.
Abby shrugged despondently. "Nowhere fast," she answered, and her shoulders drooped along with her pigtails. "Gibbs hasn't called to check in once, which means he's in trouble now, too. I never should have helped him with that fake id. What if he and Tony both disappear and we never find out what happened to them? What if they're gone forever?"
"They're both too stubborn to disappear forever, Abs. We'll find them, and then I'll help you put that locator chip you're always talking about under Tony's skin. I don't think any of us want to go through this again." He gave her a wan smile.
"No, and I plan on doing whatever it takes to protect them. Do you have what I asked you to bring?" She held out her hand expectantly.
Tim dug in his pocket and held out Tony's Mighty Mouse stapler. "I still don't understand what you want to do with this, Abby," he confessed. The Goth scientist simply bounced over to her table and added it to a small pile of items that included a copy of "It's a Wonderful Life", a picture of her and Tony after winning a bowling tournament with the nuns, and a pair of tube socks that were stiff and in need of a good washing.
Ziva entered the lab at a run, stopping suddenly when she got close to her friends. "I have them!" she proclaimed with excitement, holding out a pair of glasses toward Abby.
"Perfect," Abby commented, taking the glasses and placing them with another assortment of belongings that included a flask, a gold and silver medal, and a blurry picture of silver hair turning away from the camera.
Carefully Abby began placing the possessions into two separate black bags that closed at the top with drawstrings.
"What exactly are you doing?" Ziva inquired, face pinched into a scowl.
"I'm making a gris-gris; it's a Creole form of protection. There's one for Tony and one for Gibbs," she explained solemnly.
McGee tilted his head. "I thought those were used to cast spells on people?"
"Not always. My Nana only practiced good voodoo; she said the right charms can keep the people who own the belongings safe from harm," Abby immediately defended the practice.
Ziva's scowl grew harsher. "So you are going to say a spell over these," she waved her hands at the bags, "things?"
"Of course not," Abby responded indignantly. "I'm a scientist, not a voodoo priestess. No, for that we need the real deal."
"Excuse me?" McGee asked, confused. "Who's the real deal?"
"Mama Maison. She has a little shop in Dupont Circle that sells….ingredients and other stuff. She'll cast the spell. We have an appointment with her after work."
"We do?" Ziva asked skeptically. "I am not so sure about this Abby."
The Goth folded her arms. "Look, I know the two of you are doing all you can to find our boys, and I am too. But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to try anything and everything. So are you gonna come help me or not?"
Ziva glanced at McGee out of the corner of her eyes. The computer specialist caved within thirty seconds of receiving Abby's intense puppy dog stare. "Alright, Abby, we'll go. But for the record, I think this is kind of crazy."
Abby smiled and hooked her arms through McGee's and Ziva's. "Sometimes it takes a little bit of crazy to even everything else out. You guys are gonna love Mama Maison. If we get there early enough maybe she'll give us a reading!"
McGee swallowed and Ziva's eyes grew round. He shrugged helplessly and sighed, not really knowing if he wanted his future told or not.
He wasn't sure any of them were in for a happy ending.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs sat in the chair next to the bed watching Tony shiver and groan, wishing he could do something more to relieve the other man's discomfort.
Tony's green eyes opened blearily, and Gibbs hoped his second-in-command was aware enough to pay attention.
"Listen to me DiNozzo; when Rick gets back in here you have to be careful. You can't let it slip that we know each other. Call me Boss or Sir, nothing else. The name I gave them was Leroy Jackson."
Tony managed to nod at that information right before the door was thrown open and Rick entered, followed by Steve and another man who was short, had unkempt black hair sticking out everywhere on his head, and a three day growth of beard. His rheumy eyes darted around behind thick glasses.
"This is Dr. Anderson," Rick announced without preamble. "What's the problem?"
Gibbs stood to face the visitors. "He can barely stay conscious for more than a few minutes at a time. He's pissing blood and puking, and he keeps shaking like he can't get warm. I'm not taking the responsibility if he dies on me." He gave Steve a hard and accusing glare. "This is somebody else's mess."
Rick followed the two men's gazes as they stared each other down. "Occasionally things get out of hand," he defended their actions. "I don't condone it, but it happens, especially with a belligerent sub who won't give up control. What do you think, Andy?"
He addressed the so-called doctor, who opened up a medical bag and pulled out a stethoscope and blood-pressure cuff. "Best to be hard on a slave in the beginning and teach them their place early on; you don't want them to get the wrong ideas." Gibbs noticed that when the doctor looked at him, one of his eyes was always pointing in the opposite direction. It was disconcerting and he had to force himself not to stare. The doctor, however, noticed his gaze and chuckled darkly.
The doctor leaned over his patient and listened to DiNozzo's heart, took his pulse, and finished with a blood pressure reading. He shined a light in Tony's eyes, checking the pupil reaction and evoking a flinch and muffled curse from his mostly out of it patient. He studied the bruising on Tony's side, palpitating the area which caused DiNozzo to writhe and twist away, only settling down when Gibbs finally put a hand on his shoulder. The physician even peeked at the contents of the unflushed toilet to assess the color of the urine. The man might look strange, but he was thorough.
When he finished he removed his glasses and cleaned them with his shirttail in a gesture vaguely reminiscent of Ducky. Instead of explaining the results of his examination, he hummed to himself and smiled vacantly.
"What's wrong with him?" Gibbs asked impatiently.
The physician's attitude shifted abruptly and he snarled, "I don't like you." Steve snorted and Rick rolled his eyes.
"Just answer the question, Andy. Leroy's new here, but I expect you to respect him the same as all the other Doms."
The doctor muttered something under his breath. "Still don't like him. Creepy blue eyes."
"Andy," Rick prompted, attempting to keep the physician on track.
Gibbs watched the man's eye dart around the room before the doctor gave a long suffering sigh. "Without more equipment it's hard to be certain, but I diagnose a mild concussion, cracked ribs that are making it difficult to breathe, and bruised kidneys that account for the pain and bloody urine." The doctor giggled. "You did a good job paddling his back and butt so they're going to hurt for a while. Lots of pretty bruises." He reached out and stroked Tony's ass causing DiNozzo to moan and shift. Gibbs stiffened involuntarily; it didn't take a genius to figure out this guy was crazy. "Let him sleep and give his some food. Nothing heavy, just soup and crackers will be enough for now."
Rick sighed heavily, clearly irritated by the situation. "How long will he be out of commission?"
Andy scratched his head. "Keep him in bed for at least three or four days; I'm sure ole blue eyes won't mind to watch out for him." He licked his lips in a gross parody of seduction. "Or I'll sit with him if you want. I promise he won't be bored."
Gibbs decided if the nutjob touched Tony again he was going to break the man's fingers.
"I want him to recover Andy, not get fucked to death," Rick chastised. "Now give him a shot or something to calm him down."
The doctor shuffled through his bag and pulled out a syringe and a vial, drawing up the liquid.
Gibbs approached Rick. "Is this a good idea? That man is insane."
Rick pursed his lips. "Andy has some issues; that's why he's here with me. I treated him after he lost his medical license for inappropriate contact with his own patients." Gibbs' frown deepened. "But he's actually a good doctor when he pays attention to what he's supposed to and keeps his dick to himself. Don't worry; he's not going to kill our boy."
There was nothing Gibbs could do except watch the doctor plunge the needle into Tony's thigh and hold steady when DiNozzo jerked and whimpered. "That's enough morphine to hold him until morning. I'll come back then," Andy explained. "Maybe I'll get a look at his morning wood? What do you think, Rick? Will you let me stroke him off – you know how much I love to do that while someone's high on morphine."
Gibbs took a step toward the lunatic before he stopped himself. Rick had already moved between Tony and the doctor. "No, you aren't allowed to play with this one. You have your own slave that you get to keep, remember? This one is off limits." Rick's voice was deep and threatening.
Andy pouted. "I know, but I like this one better. He's prettier."
Rick chuckled. "That's why he's going to earn us a shit load of money." He turned back toward Gibbs. "Do you need anything else? The painkiller should help; we'll keep him doped up the next few days so he'll rest. I can send Josh or somebody to sit with him if you'd rather not. I doubt it will be very interesting."
"I'll stay," Gibbs answered. "I want him to see me as the person taking care of him."
Rick nodded at that. "You're a smart one, Leroy, that's why I like you. Alright; we'll be back in the morning. Call if you need me."
Gibbs didn't move until after they left the room, when he let the tension ease from his shoulders, grateful to be alone with Tony again. He sat on the side of the bed and drew the covers over his charge, thankful DiNozzo seemed to finally be in a deep sleep. He stretched out alongside Tony's thin body and leaned against the headboard, letting his thigh rest against the other man's. DiNozzo rolled over with a pained grunt and squirmed closer to Gibbs, plastering his warm skin against the older man's and letting his hand rest on Gibbs' stomach. It didn't surprise Gibbs that even asleep, his agent's fingers curled up in his shirt and clutched it like a lifeline. Gibbs went back to petting Tony's hair, wondering how in the hell they had ever ended up like this.
NCISNCISNCIS
McGee wandered through the shop trying not to bump into anything; there were so many jars, vials, pouches, and pots of exotic and unidentifiable liquids, powders, and gels that he was almost afraid to move. Books adorned an entire wall, other shelves contained what appeared to be various types of bones, feathers and shells were arranged in another section of the store, as were beads and multi-colored stones. Everything in the tiny, cramped shop shimmered, glittered and glowed – he wasn't quite sure if he should be afraid or mesmerized.
Ziva walked about without hesitation, picking up things here and there to inspect them, sometimes raising an eyebrow and other times letting out a snort, but seeming not all that put out by the unusual nature of the inventory.
Abby clapped her hands in delight when an elderly woman whose lifetime of wrinkles and somewhat hunched over stance indicated she was at least in her late eighties entered the room. Her long gossamer hair flowed down her back like a lion's mane, and her deep blue eyes sparkled with a hint of playfulness. She smiled at Abby, holding out her arms to the younger woman.
"Abigail! It is always a delight to see you!"
Abby rushed over and gave her a gentle hug. "It's great to see you, too. Let me introduce you to my friends; Madam Maison this is Ziva David."
"My pleasure," Ziva said, holding out her hand. The old woman took it in both of hers and squeezed gently.
"Hmmmm. Abigail said I would find you interesting, and she is quite correct, as usual. You have a very intriguing energy, young lady."
Ziva tilted her head, her ponytail trailing over her shoulder. "Thank you, I think."
"And this is Timothy McGee."
McGee also extended his hand, not sure what to expect. He startled a little at the soft yet firm touch of the woman's gnarled fingers.
"A bit skittish, this one. But you're right Abigail, he has a core of steel in his heart. I approve."
McGee let his eyebrows sink downward, trying to decipher the cryptic statement. He looked at Ziva who just shrugged nonchalantly.
Madam Maison hooked an arm through Abby's and marched toward the back of the shop, leaving Ziva and McGee to follow through a pair of heavy maroon curtains. The priestess? Shaman? Witch? McGee had no idea what would be the appropriate title - she took her seat in a large wooden chair with curved arms and velvet cushions. She arranged the flowing black dress she was wearing around her legs. For a second, as she settled into the chair, McGee caught a glimpse of the woman's high cheekbones and full mouth, and realized that when she was young she must have been a ravishing beauty.
He flushed red when the woman glanced up and saw him staring.
"Abigail, be a dear and hand me that photo album on top of the armoire." She pointed a long knobby finger toward a heavy piece of cherry furniture. Abby rushed to oblige, hovering over her shoulder as Madam Maison flipped through the pictures. "Here," she said. "Show this to Mr. McGee." Abby raised her eyebrows quizzically but did as told.
McGee found himself looking at a photograph of a woman in her mid-twenties, her dark raven hair curling over her shoulder. A bright smile warmed her face, and her eyes twinkled like sunlight. She was tall, willowy, and exquisitely beautiful.
"Does that answer your question, my boy?" McGee found her eyes poking holes through his soul, and he turned an even darker shade of red. How had she known what he'd been thinking?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied contritely.
"Good." She tilted her chin up, apparently pleased with his response. "Now, you have some items for me to examine, some co-workers you are worried about." Her tone was crisp, businesslike, but with a hint of Creole that McGee found fascinating.
"I do." Abby pulled the satchels out of her own oversized black bag trimmed with red feathers. "These belong to Gibbs and Tony. I was hoping you could use them to place a protective charm that would help keep our friends safe until they return home."
The old woman was looking closely at the items, her face somber. "Do you have the picture I requested?"
"It's right here." Abby went back to digging in her purse, eventually pulling out a slightly bent photo that she laid on the table in front of Madam Maison. McGee stepped closer to see an image of Gibbs and Tony that Abby had obviously taken when neither man was aware of it; Gibbs was staring at something out of sight and Tony was slightly behind him, following Gibbs' direction with his own gaze. The woman picked up the picture and stared at it for a long time.
"These two," she said after a while. "They are unaware of their bond?"
Abby cleared her throat and shared a smug glance with her colleagues. "I'm not sure what you mean. They've worked together a long time and they're friends…I don't really know about anything else."
The Madam smiled to herself. "Well, neither do they. More's the pity. Such a strong connection to be ignored; see the way they stand the same, tilt their heads the same. So much connection – I believe they will realize it soon. I just hope it doesn't frighten them away from each other."
"Why would they be afraid?" Ziva, McGee noted. Of course she wasn't afraid to voice the question they all had.
"I do not believe either man is good with his emotions; their feelings are strong, intense, and that is terrifying for this type so they tend to shut down and run away. It is much easier to ignore your feelings than deal with them, don't you think?" She gave Ziva a challenging stare, and the Israeli crossed her arms tightly. She did not answer what sounded like a rhetorical question.
"I told you guys there was something going on between them!" Abby gushed.
McGee couldn't help himself. "You can tell all of this from a picture and a couple of knickknacks?"
"Do you doubt me?" the old woman asked calmly, her gaze as lethal as Gibbs' without his morning coffee.
"Well, no," McGee backpedaled under her scrutiny. "It just seems….unlikely."
She snorted. "Not everything can be labeled in gigabytes or binary codes, young man. Some things involve the spirit, but that doesn't make them any less real." She turned away from him dismissively. "I will cast the charms, Abigail, but I warn you. These men will need more than a spell to keep them safe from harm. They are in grave danger, not only from their present circumstances, but from each other. Only time will tell if they are strong enough to survive the trial they are facing, and if either of them will return from it the same as before. Come my child, and get me the candles."
Abby nodded and began arranging things for the woman. McGee watched silently, debating her words. Maybe he had been wrong and there really was something between Gibbs and Tony. He didn't want to believe in magical hocus-pocus, but there was a quality about Madam Maison that struck him as real and honest and for some unknown reason he was inclined to trust her.
Unfortunately, if what she was saying was true, his friends were in for a struggle he doubted either one of them was prepared to face.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs jerked awake, startled by the hand that pushed against his chest.
"Please, Zeke, don't…..I'll be good…..I'm sorry….." Tony shoved at him again, eyes firmly closed, his face sweaty and lined with distress. "Please don't make me…..it hurts….I don't want to….." Tony squirmed and wriggled away, and Gibbs was afraid he would fall off the edge of the bed and into the floor.
"Hey, DiNozzo, stop before you hurt yourself." He placed his hand on Tony's arm, and the incoherent man practically screamed and flailed in the opposite direction; Gibbs had to lunge and throw his body across Tony's to keep him from going over the edge.
To Gibbs' disbelief Tony started crying, batting his fists against Gibbs' chest. "Don't touch me…you're not allowed to touch me….I'll tell," he sobbed, pulling in deep shaky breaths. "I'll tell my father…..please stop." Gibbs grabbed Tony's wrists just below the cuffs, and held him tightly trying to calm him down.
"Tony, wake up now," he ordered, giving the struggling man an easy shake. Tony's eyes remained closed, but he ceased moving and slumped forward in Gibbs' grasp, his sobs turning into small gasps. "Damnit, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, tugging Tony up against him. Tony's eyes finally opened a tiny sliver, and he looked around without much recognition of his surroundings.
"Boss?" he whispered, slowly becoming aware that he was snuggled up against the silver-haired man's solid chest. "What's goin' on?"
Gibbs stroked the back of his neck. "You were having a nightmare. What was it about?" He could tell the drugs and lethargy continued to have a strong hold on his agent, and it probably wasn't fair to push for information while he was in this condition, but Gibbs couldn't forget what Rick had said on the ride up here. If something had happened to Tony as a child, he needed to know.
"Dreamin' 'bout Zeke," he slurred. "Didn' wan' him to hurt me 'nymore. Too little to make 'im stop."
"Who was he, Tony? Who was Zeke?"
DiNozzo's head lolled on his shoulder. "Boogeyman….always gets bad li'l boys." Tony's voice trailed off and he became a dead weight on Gibbs' chest; the lead agent held him, trying to process what had just been said. When Tony didn't wake again, Gibbs lowered him back to the bed and covered him up.
Feeling frustrated and restless, Gibbs stood and paced around the room. Whoever this Zeke was, Gibbs would find out and add him to the hit list of people he was going to have to hunt down and take out. The number of people who had hurt DiNozzo continued to grow longer and longer; it amazed him that Tony was so resilient as to have become the strong-willed, decent man he was lucky enough to know.
Childhood abuse would explain a lot about Tony's personality, although the thought of it simultaneously broke his heart and made him sick. He wouldn't push Tony to tell him about it, but he still felt strongly that he needed to know as much as possible in order to figure out how to proceed with any kind of relationship with the younger man. If a relationship would even be possible after this experience was over; there was no way to predict Tony's reaction to what was happening. Ironic that after all these years he finally accepted his feelings for Tony, and they might not matter anyway.
Gibbs went to the armoire and opened it again, examining the contents inside. He studied the various tools of the Dominant/submissive trade, letting his fingers glide over the toys that in some circumstances would have been fun and enjoyable to use, but he doubted Tony would see them that way considering he would have no say in the matter.
There was no way around it. Getting out of here was going to take time, and once Tony was sufficiently recovered Gibbs was going to have to prove his reputation as a trainer until they found a way to escape. At least he could take solace in the fact that it would be him taking care of Tony and no one else, he'd see to that. He had years of experience as a Dom and he knew what to do, how to handle a sub, especially this sub. Regardless, it was going to take all his willpower to do what he had to with DiNozzo considering his agent's vulnerable condition. Sitting back down on the bed, Gibbs picked up Tony's lax fingers and held them. Tony had been placing complete and unquestioned faith in him for years, and now that faith was going to be put to the ultimate test.
He only hoped that when they eventually returned to the real world Tony didn't hate him as much as all the other bastards who'd hurt him in his life.
If he did, Gibbs didn't think he could blame him.