Author's Notes: We are getting closer to the happy ending! Tony makes it home, with a few complications of course. Forgive any geographical errors.
Chapter 20
The elevator doors opened and McGee hobbled through them, maneuvering his crutches so he could carefully hop over to his desk without putting any weight on his injured leg. It was amazing how much effort was required to compensate for the wound in his thigh that continued to throb with each and every jarring step. He hadn't taken any pain medication since the night before in order to have a fresh and clear mind and he was paying a high price for the clarity. He bit back a groan and dragged himself another foot closer to his desk. After three days, two of which had been in the hospital, he was barely able to get around on his own.
Abby said they had been trying to track Nakamura's whereabouts without much success. She hadn't intentionally implied that he was needed to help in the search, yet that was the message he'd received. The doctor had written him off work for another week and insisted he stay in bed as much as possible and keep his leg propped up at all times. The agony in Abby's eyes when she had haltingly described what she had seen in the video of Tony's auction had done him in, and there was no way he could sit at home lounging on pillows while his partner – his friend – was systematically tortured and abused.
He wasn't one to brag, unless Tony goaded him into it of course, but when it came to tracking someone using the myriad of trails left in the cyber world, he was the very best around. He could make connections and see pathways that others overlooked. Tony was always telling him to think outside the box, and that's what he intended to do, for as long as he had to until he found where Nakamura was hiding. Tony might be an overbearing playboy sometimes, but there was no one more loyal when things turned bad and he wanted to return the favor. He wanted to bring Tony home.
In his own offbeat way Tony had taught him more about the ins and outs of being an agent than even Gibbs; the thought of DiNozzo in the hands of Nakamura made his stomach churn.
He gingerly lowered himself into his chair and turned on his computer, arranging his leg at an angle so that it didn't ache quite so much. The seconds it took for him to key in his password and get the programs running took an eternity. As soon as the system was open he started typing, eyes darting back and forth and fingers flashing across the keys. He was so lost in the information scrolling past him that he didn't notice the person who snuck up quietly beside him until a hot chocolate appeared on his desk.
McGee smiled and picked up the cup. "Thanks, Abs. How'd you know I was here?"
She perched on the corner of his desk, twirling a lank ponytail around her finger. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her smile. "I got a call from someone asking me to come look for you. Wanna guess who?"
He frowned in thought. If it was the person he had in mind it was not a good thing to have been found out so soon. "Fornell?" he ventured.
"Right on the first try. What's going on with the two of you?" she pried gently.
Tim didn't know how to answer because he wasn't sure himself, so he shrugged noncommittally. "He's been coming by the past few days, bringing me food and making sure I don't try to move around too much. I left before he showed up this morning." He flicked his eyes up at her, trying to ascertain what she was thinking. He felt strangely defensive. "He's a nice guy."
"Really," Abby cooed softly, and it seemed for a minute she might start teasing him about the surprising friendship. However, her crestfallen face never managed to show any spark and she hunched her shoulders dismally. "Have you found anything yet?"
The corners of his mouth twitched up. "I've only been here about fifteen minutes, Abby. It'll probably take a while longer. I'm good, but I'm not that good."
"Oh," she responded sadly. She pressed her lips together, her green eyes moist with unshed tears. "Are you going to watch the video?"
McGee had considered it, but didn't know if there was any legitimate reason to see it. He didn't want to view it to just be a voyeur to his friend's misery. Even the mention of it made the super stoic Ziva tear up, which told him more than he needed to know.
"Is there anything on it that might help me trace Nakamura?" he asked.
Abby shook her head silently as if afraid to speak.
"Then I don't think I will," he replied firmly. "Tony's lost too much privacy already."
Abby gave him her most bittersweet smile. "You're a good friend, Tim. You don't think being here today will be too much for you? The doctor said you should stay in bed."
"As long as I type with my fingers and not my toes I think I'll be fine," he answered with a quick grin. "Where's Ziva?"
"She's down in the evidence locker going over everything again. It's a long shot, but right now we don't have anything."
He met her gaze with his own serious countenance. "Gibbs?" His boss had visited once while he was in the hospital and he hadn't seen the man since. There was no telling what Gibbs had decided to do in the past few days.
She sighed. "He's in and out at all hours. Right now he's up in MTAC with Vance. I doubt he's slept more than five minutes since we got back." Abby's face fell even more at the mention of her beloved boss. "I'm really worried about him."
"Then I guess I'd better find Nakamura. So let me get back to work." He gave her a playful shove.
Abby paused before grabbing Tony's empty chair and moving it beside McGee's being careful not to bump his leg; she plopped down. "Mind if I stay? I'll be quiet," she promised. "I don't really want to be alone and I've processed every piece of evidence three times. There isn't anything left for me to do and when I'm by myself all I can think about is that video…." Her voice trailed off quietly.
Tim couldn't say no to her even if he'd wanted to. He couldn't deny that having her around made him feel better, too. "You can stay, but only if you let me concentrate," he said with false severity.
"Scout's honor," she promised, holding up her fingers in a mock salute.
McGee took her at her word and went back to work, letting himself get drawn into a puzzle of phone numbers, addresses, and financial records. He was once again oblivious to outside stimuli when Abby shook his arm, causing him to look up.
"I'm trying to figure something out, Abby, I asked you to be quiet…." He finally saw the figure looming over his computer. "Oh….hey."
Fornell did not look like a happy man; he folded his arms and pursed his lips. "I thought you were supposed to be resting?"
"I decided I could rest just as easy here and get some work done at the same time. See?" He pointed at his leg that was currently propped on Abby's lap. The scientist smiled angelically.
"You should have called – I would have driven you over," the FBI agent chided in a way that made Tim blush slightly and his heart beat faster. Abby was staring at him with an odd expression like he was something she might find on a very interesting microscopic slide. He swallowed and tried to maintain some sense of composure.
"I, uh, well, I guess I didn't think about it," McGee finally stuttered.
Fornell leaned down next to his ear. "Think about it next time." He straightened up. "How did you get here, anyway?"
"I took a cab," Tim responded quickly, hoping that would be considered a good idea. Fornell's face lightened up a bit and McGee felt himself relax a little.
"Good. I'll drive you home. Where's Jethro?" Fornell changed the subject and looked around the bullpen.
"MTAC," Abby supplied helpfully coming somewhat out of her morose mood. She gave McGee a small knowing smile.
Fornell nodded and jogged to the stairs, passing Ziva on the way.
"What is going on with him?" she asked. "He looks like the cat that ate the….um what is it?" Her brow wrinkled. "Mouse?" She shook her head. "That is not right…."
"Canary," McGee corrected testily, unwilling to turn his head from his computer screen.
"Is there something going on I should know about?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at Abby.
"I think there's something definitely going on with Tim and Fornell," Abby suggested.
"No there isn't!" McGee protested, staring angrily at the two women who giggled softly. "Now will you two please be quiet so I can try to help find Tony! You haven't forgotten about him, have you?"
Abby's eyes grew wide at the accusation. "Of course not!" She lowered his foot to the floor and jumped up, her lips parted like she wanted to say something. "I'll be in the lab," was all she managed to mumble before turning on her platform heels and rushing to the elevator.
"Abby…." McGee called after her, afraid she was crying again. "Come back! I'm sorry!" He tried to shift his weight and lean after her, but the movement sent a sharp pain through his thigh. "Damnit, Abby!" The elevator doors were already closed and she was gone. "I didn't mean to upset her," he explained to Ziva who had folded her arms disapprovingly.
"I know; we are all stressed about Tony. Have you had any luck?"
He hated to ruin the hopeful look on her face so he exaggerated some. "I've got a few leads, but nothing solid yet. I'll get a break but it's going to take some time."
"Yes, time." She sat down at her desk and twirled a paper clip in her fingers, her eyes lingering on Tony's empty desk. There was nothing more to say.
NCISNCISNCIS
Vance opened the door to MTAC and allowed Fornell inside. The two men exchanged worried glances. "How is he doing?" the FBI agent inquired.
With a shake of his head, the Director gazed over at the silver haired man who was standing in the middle of the room watching several video feeds play out on the large screen. The only move he made was to sip from the coffee cup he had been clutching for the last few hours. Vance knew the coffee had to be cold long ago, yet Gibbs kept drinking it; Vance wasn't sure if Gibbs wanted the coffee or if swallowing the nasty brew was so much habit he didn't even think about the action.
"He's been here for the past three days; I've tried to get him to go home but he won't budge. I doubt if he's slept at all." Vance's tone was uncharacteristically worried. "I know he's Gibbs, and some might consider it to be sacrilegious to question his stamina, but I'm not sure how much longer he can go on like this."
Fornell sighed. "Longer than most. I'll see what I can do."
He quietly went over to stand with his friend; Vance followed behind feeling strangely protective of the older agent. He and Gibbs weren't always the best of friends, yet he respected the man and didn't want to see him run himself into a state of exhaustion.
"When was the last time you went home?" Fornell asked.
Gibbs didn't bother to look at him. "What do you want Tobias? Are you here to tell me to go home and take a nap while Tony's missing?"
Fornell's eyes narrowed in challenge. "A few hours sleep won't change anything."
Gibbs blinked but didn't turn his head. "No. I have to be here."
Vance watched Fornell place a hand on Gibbs' arm, an action he would have never considered in the lead agent's current state of mind. "At least go lay down in the conference room. Eat something. If you collapse it won't help Tony either," he insisted.
Gibbs snorted derisively. "Why don't you go check on McGee again? He's safe and sound downstairs."
Fornell's head jerked in Gibbs' direction. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Gibbs' jaw clenched. "How would you feel if he was in Tony's place? Would you take a break? Even for five minutes?"
Glancing over his shoulder to catch Vance's reaction, Fornell cast his eyes downward. The Director wasn't sure what was going on with the FBI agent and McGee, but it was clear there was something brewing. Regardless, the comment made Fornell back down some. "Just go to the conference room. Someone will wake you if they find anything." He squeezed Gibbs' shoulder. "I promise."
Vance was surprised to see Gibbs' body slump; the fatigue he had been holding at bay seemed to diffuse through his body all at once. "Thirty minutes," he agreed reluctantly. "And you get me immediately if there's any information at all."
Fornell smiled. "Come on." He led his friend out of the darkened room and Vance followed them, standing at the railing until they walked out of sight. He wondered what it was like to really be Gibbs' friend and doubted he would ever know; they didn't have enough in common and had too much distrust between them. He was surprised at the depth of feeling Gibbs seemed to have for DiNozzo; the two men had always had a bond but it was not something he would have considered to be in the category of love. The way Gibbs had responded to Tony's disappearance went way beyond partners or friends. Jackie was definitely right about them; and now Fornell and McGee? He observed the junior agent working at his computer, glancing around occasionally. Vance wondered if the young man was trying to find Fornell.
He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised at the developing relationship. Fornell was a striking man with a strong personality; a sub like McGee would thrive with that type of Dom. He hoped they got a chance, unlike Tony and Gibbs.
Every day that passed made it less and less likely Tony would ever come home. Gibbs was a pillar of strength in most cases, but he didn't think the man could survive the death of another seminal person in his life. From all accounts the passing of Shannon and Kelly had nearly destroyed him.
Sometimes things just weren't fair. He made his way back into his office to call Jackie; right now he really needed to hear the sound of her voice.
NCISNCISNCIS
"I've got something." McGee stopped typing and glanced over top of his computer.
Ziva stood and met his gaze, her body stiff with control that held back too much excitement. "What?" She approached the desk and leaned over his shoulder, her hand on the back of his chair.
"Since the warehouse had a port attached I've traced all the luxury yachts that were in New Orleans during the time of the auction; none of them were directly linked to Nakamura. So I decided to focus on any that were registered under the Japanese flag. That narrowed it down a lot – I only had to research three." He was in recitation mode, stating the information like a list of facts. The words spilled out quickly, as he shifted carefully in his chair.
"Did any of those belong to Nakamura?" Ziva asked, peering more closely at the screen, her eyes squinting at the tiny numbers. McGee picked up the remote control and transferred the image onto the big screen so they could look at it together. A picture of an enormous yacht appeared in front of them. "Very nice," Ziva commented.
"I had to trace through about a dozen holding companies, but eventually determined that the business filing ownership of this particular vessel is owned by one of Nakamura's companies. I also discovered that the ship has been in port in New Orleans several times over the last few years and always at the same location; the warehouse where Tony disappeared," he explained.
"So are we to assume that Nakamura took Tony away on that yacht? Is there any way to track them?" The worry in her voice was undisguised.
McGee tightened his lips. "Nakamura's cell phone was last used a few hours before we arrived at the warehouse." The agent turned back to his computer. "He made a call to someone in Japan; it would make sense that he was heading back there."
Ziva drew her eyebrows down thoughtfully. "What kind of home does he have in Japan?"
Tim moved back to his computer; the search only took a few minutes before a palatial mansion popped on the big screen. "His home is secured like a fort – he would have no trouble hiding Tony there." McGee clicked the remote a few times, zooming in to explore the various buildings and structures that were nestled into a hillside.
"Do you think he would sail all the way to Japan from New Orleans? How long would that take?" She paced around the small area between their desks, her arms folded.
"I don't know, but it would be the best way to transport a slave without worrying about getting caught. I'm still not sure how to find them, though. They could be anywhere." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his thigh; the pain was starting to shoot up into his hip and no matter how he readjusted his leg nothing seemed to help.
"Here." He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until Ziva nudged his arm and held out a bottle of water. He took it from her gratefully.
"Do you need me to find Fornell so he can take you home?"
"No!" McGee responded with more force than necessary. Now was not the time to give up and if Fornell knew he was hurting the older man might try to make him leave. Not that Fornell really had any say in what he did, but somehow the guy had sort of taken on the job of being his keeper. He took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore the pain. "I'm fine, Ziva. I just need to take a break and rest a few minutes….." He put the water down and sat up straighter.
"What? Did you think of something?"
McGee nodded, his fingers once again stabbing at his keyboard. "They'll need to stop somewhere for supplies. There's no way they could make that lengthy of a trip without coming into port along the way. I just have to find their credit card activity. It won't be a precise location, but it should get us closer than we are now."
Ziva was once again leaning over his shoulder, her long hair dangling by his ear. "Would Nakamura use his own credit card?"
"Doubtful. They'll probably use a card issued to one of his companies, which means a lot of transactions to sift through. It might take a few hours, but I'll find which one now that I know what I'm looking for."
Ziva patted his back and went to her own desk; she stared at her screen for a few minutes. "Nakamura is a very sadistic man. I am afraid for what he is doing to Tony."
McGee stopped his typing. "Yeah. Abby says the video is pretty brutal."
Ziva bit her upper lip and sniffed. "We will find Tony, kill Nakamura, and Gibbs will make sure that he is alright. Yes?"
McGee couldn't disagree with her, even the killing Nakamura part. The bastard deserved to die. "Yes," he concurred, and returned to sifting data that could spell the difference between life and death for their partner.
NCISNCISNCIS
Laughter rang through Gibbs' ears and he looked to find the sound. It was beautiful - a soft, rich alto laced with joy, love, and passion; he hadn't heard anything as gorgeous in more years than he cared to count. The laugh was accompanied by a giggle so sweet it was like wind chimes on a spring day and it made his heart ache with longing to see the little girl making the sound. Another laugh joined the two – low, deep, and filled with pure happiness. It melded with the other voices in perfect harmony.
He found them together bathed in a beam of light. Tony was holding Kelly in the air and swinging her around while she squealed in delight. Shannon stood nearby beaming with pleasure, her face flushed with a warm glow. When Kelly shrieked and giggled, Gibbs found he was smiling, too.
Shannon saw him and her eyes widened. "Jethro," she whispered. Tony stopped tickling Kelly and turned to face him, holding Gibbs' daughter's hand in his own.
"Daddy!" Kelly squealed.
"Hey, pumpkin," he replied, wishing he could go over and hold her but for some reason he was frozen in place.
"Boss," Tony said, green eyes twinkling. "You never told me they were so pretty."
Shannon picked up Tony's other hand. "Tony's being modest; he's very handsome, Jethro."
Gibbs' voice stuck in his throat. Seeing them together, so happy, so beautiful, so alive – it was more than he could bear. "I've missed all of you so much."
"We miss you, too," Kelly said. The light around them was growing dim and their images became indistinct as they faded away, until all he could hear were their voices.
"Jethro, wake up!"
Blinking his eyes, Gibbs found Fornell staring down at him. "McGee has a lead. I think he might have found Nakamura."
Gibbs swung his legs off the couch and sat up, the sound of laughter ringing in his ears. Shannon and Kelly were lost to him except in dreams, but while there was still a chance he could have Tony in his life he was going to do everything possible to make that happen.
Shannon and Kelly would want him to be happy, he knew that now.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony clutched his chest as the latest round of coughs ripped through him. He had gotten better for a while when the doctor had treated him at the auction house, but after a few days with Nakamura the tightness and congestion had returned with a vengeance. He was familiar with what pneumonia felt like, and he was sure he had a pretty good case of it.
All the coughing didn't help the ribs Nakamura had finished cracking the first night he had been forced to spend in the crazy man's stateroom. He'd been strung up like a side of beef and beaten within an inch of his life. Nakamura possessed an intense rage that grew worse as the night wore on and it became apparent what caused his anger and frustration.
No matter what Nakamura tried, he couldn't perform. Even naked, tied up, bruised and beaten, Tony couldn't stop himself from laughing at the short little man trying to get his tiny dick hard. Each time Nakamura failed, he hit Tony again using every whip, flogger, and strap in his possession; eventually resorting to more cruel methods of releasing his fury.
Coughing again, Tony rubbed his hands over the tiny burns on his arms that had started to scab over but still oozed pus and blood. The small butane lighter hadn't looked like much, yet the white hot flame had done a hell of a job on his unprotected flesh. The memory of the smell and pain was enough to make nausea rise in his belly and he retched a little before getting his queasiness under control. Nakamura was a sadist if there ever was one, and after hours of abusing Tony he'd finally managed to get hard enough to jack off. It had been an incredible relief to see the spurting cum that indicated his torment was over for a while.
He scooted back against the wall of the tiny room they had locked him in letting his hand lay limply on his flat stomach. The boat rocked back and forth on the open water, the movement not helping him to feel any better. He would have given anything for a blanket, a pillow, or a cup of water. Unfortunately there was nothing in the room except a chain attached to his ankle and a ring in the wall. It allowed him to move around some, even stand and look out the tiny porthole, and he guessed he should be glad for the opportunity to see the sun in the daytime and the stars at night. Pulling himself up to the window, he looked outside. The sky this evening was cloudless, a pale blue the color of Gibbs' eyes, and in any other setting it might have been beautiful.
Another cough tore his chest in half and left him gasping with tears rolling down his cheeks from the strain; unable to support himself on shaky legs he slid back down to the floor.
His eyes darted to the door when the handle turned. They were coming for him again. Gibbs would expect him to endure whatever they did to him, to buy time until he was rescued, but it was getting so damn hard.
He didn't for a second believe that Gibbs was dead even though Nakamura taunted him with the idea day after day. He prayed for a chance to see Gibbs again; there was so much more he wanted to say and so many misunderstandings he needed to clear up. They had wasted so much time, and now there was every possibility his time had run out.
The door opened a crack and Tony found himself pressing harder into the wall. There was nowhere to hide or run; he couldn't escape whatever they had planned for him today. But that didn't mean he would submit to it. He'd realized over the past few weeks that submission couldn't be forced, it had to be earned. These men couldn't break him or train him, because there was nothing that could ever make him bend to their will. Gibbs was the only one who had ever deserved that from him and he wouldn't desecrate that gift by giving it to someone else he despised.
A fat Asian man the size of a sumo wrestler squeezed through the tiny doorway, his beady eyes locking on to Tony and an evil smile splitting his swollen face. He had on a pair of loose pants, a gun belt, and no shirt, his fleshy rolls cascading down his body in doughy waves. His head was the size of a pumpkin and shaved totally bald, with more layers of fat circling his chin and the back of his head.
Tony managed to work up a grin for him. "Hey, sweet cheeks."
The man lumbered forward and smacked him, bouncing Tony's head off the hard wall. "Slaves do not speak without permission."
Tony tried to pull himself together, shaking away the pounding in his skull. "Just because Nakamura bought me doesn't make me his slave."
The mountain sized man grunted in disagreement. "Get up; the master wants to see you."
There wasn't any use to refuse so Tony struggled to his feet. His guard unhooked the chain from his ankle and shoved him in the direction of the door. Stumbling and coughing, Tony grasped his midsection, not sure what hurt worse, his stomach or his chest.
He could predict the torture Nakamura had in store for him tonight and he doubted he would be able to take it, even if he wanted to. The best he could do was go out in style like he'd lived his life, with a glib remark and sarcastic smile. If he got lucky, maybe he could get in a punch or two on his tormentors; that would be icing on the cake.
Unexpectedly his legs went weak and he collapsed to the floor, his lungs seizing up and erupting in spasms of coughing. He couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't even move for several minutes, until he felt the large hands lifting him off the ground and dragging him the remaining few feet to Nakamura's room. They forced him onto his knees and attached his wrist and ankle cuffs to anchors in the floor that forced his legs apart and left him unable to stand. He still hadn't managed to get his breathing under control; the world danced around him in an array of colors and the agony in his chest was so bad he kept trying to pull his arms free even though he knew they would only move a few inches.
"Please," he whispered silently, but refused to let the word escape his lips. He wouldn't resort to begging regardless of the abuse. He was stubborn enough to not give them the satisfaction. The crazy Asian grabbed his chin roughly and forced him to look up into dark, demented eyes.
"Defective!" Nakamura spat, smacking him while ranting to the obese guard who stood in the corner with his arms folded across his protruding stomach. "I will demand a complete refund! He is in poor health and isn't trained at all! I will see that Rick never sells another slave again."
"Not….a…..slave," Tony rasped between jagged coughs, glaring at his captor.
"You are whatever I say you are!" Nakamura shouted, backhanding him so hard his lip split and the side of his face throbbed. "I am your owner and you will do as I say!"
Tony leaned forward on his hands to hold himself up. His shoulders heaved as he collected his waning strength. If Gibbs was going to swoop in and save the day, he needed to do it soon. The boat rolled, and Tony's gaze went to the window and the endless sea beyond. He had to stop kidding himself, he was beyond the reach of even Leroy Jethro Gibbs and this time there would be no second chances. His attention was drawn back to the man undressing in front of him and he shuddered, unclear if it was disgust or the cold air on the fine layer of sweat covering his skin that made him tremble.
Nakamura put his hands on his hips and spread his feet shoulder width apart, his cock lying limply between his legs.
"You will make me excited. It is your duty to perform!"
The thought of putting that puny dick in his mouth made Tony nearly gag. "I can't perform miracles. Haven't you got any little blue pills?" Agitating Nakamura wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but it made him feel a little better nevertheless.
"I do not want a pill! I want to fuck you like a man!" He pressed his crotch close to Tony's face. "Wrap those lips around my dick and get me hard or Taka will make you sorry."
Tony turned his head to the side and refused to open his mouth, stifling the urge to cough that was building in intensity. He wasn't prepared for the blunt pain on his back when Taka hit him with a thick strap. "Do not disobey your master!"
Pain radiated through Tony's back, forcing him to take tiny breaths and bite down a whimper. Nakamura laughed. "Are you ready to cooperate, boy?" the man asked, leaning close to Tony's face. "You are so pretty when you fight me." He kissed Tony harshly on the lips and pulled away, eyes lethal. Blood from Tony's mouth smeared his own and he licked it from his lips.
Nakamura turned to his assistant. "Hand me the chains." Taka reached in a box and removed a shiny gold chain that he draped into Nakamura's hand. The Dom held it out so Tony could see the heavy weights dangling from each end and in the middle. With his free hand he gripped the sensitive nipple rings, tugging them harshly. Tony now had a matching set, thanks to his new owner who had added the second piercing the night he had been bought.
Tony leaned his head back and blinked at the stinging sensation. Nakamura attached the end of the chain to first one nipple ring and then the other, allowing the weights to dangle off both nipples and pull down the chain in the middle. It created a burn that kept building to a smoldering agony. Nakamura pulled on the chain so hard it felt like his nipples were going to be ripped off. In the fog of his mind he wondered if this could ever be erotic under different circumstances; his flaccid penis had no interest whatsoever.
Nakamura wasn't giving up. "Get me hard, slave, and show me what that lovely mouth is good for."
Without thinking Tony shook his head in refusal and earned another series of whacks on the back and torso with the heavy leather strap. This time he couldn't stop the cries of misery and was barely able to hold himself up under the onslaught.
When Taka grabbed his head in his fat hands and held his face so he couldn't move away, he didn't struggle anymore. It was taking all his concentration to draw in enough air to stay conscious. It barely registered when he was forced to accept Nakamura's dick in his mouth. The soft flesh rolled on his tongue and the acrid smell of arousal clogged his nostrils; his lungs spasmed and he choked as skin and hair shoved its way into his face and Nakamura started slamming forward and back, trying to fuck his mouth.
"Suck it, you piece of shit! Suck it and make me hard!"
Taka laughed, the deep rolling thunder of his entertainment echoing in Tony's ears and adding to his humiliation. His eyes watered, a cough built and for a moment he wanted to die rather than be treated like something no longer human.
Without concern for his own safety, Tony spit the offending organ out of his mouth and started hacking, doubling over with the effort.
Nakamura screamed in fury and kicked Tony in the ribs, sending shooting knives through his chest; a second kick set loose shards of pain that convinced him he really was about to die. He thought he'd been stabbed and sagged over on his side, his arms twisted by the cuffs hooked to the floor and his restrained legs making it impossible to fall down completely. Every breath was agony and he couldn't take in enough air to even plead for mercy.
This was not the way he wanted his life to end; naked and helpless at the hands of an insane monster. Giving his life for one of his teammates or in the line of duty; he could've accepted that kind of death. This was pointless, meaningless, and amounted to nothing.
"Get him back into position," Nakamura commanded. He was lifted onto his knees, this time shoved onto his hands and his ass lifted into the air. "Hand me the dildo."
"No," Tony screamed in his own mind. "God, no." Hands groped his ass and pulled his cheeks apart, exposing his hole.
"Stop," Tony said weakly, the pain in his chest making it nearly impossible to speak. "I can't….I can't breathe." He swayed and pitched forward, everything around him turning grey.
"Unhook the restraints!" Nakamura ranted, nearly out of control. Taka realeased his limbs and rolled him over on his back while he wheezed. It was too much. Tony could feel something break inside and he gave up, his entire body overwhelmed with inescapable pain.
Hot tears splashed down his cheeks and he just wanted it to be over. He couldn't fight any more, couldn't pretend it was going to be alright. All the air in the room seemed to have disappeared and he couldn't get any of it into his damaged lungs. He'd do anything they wanted if they'd just let him die when it was finished.
They were touching him again. He tried to flail away but Taka held him firm and wouldn't allow him to move. The agonized cry that came from his throat sounded animalistic, which was what he had become.
There was another sound, far away, that called for his attention but he couldn't focus with everything happening to him. It sounded like fireworks, then shouting, followed by more popping sounds.
Gunfire.
Tala said something in Japanese that seemed urgent, but Nakamura wasn't listening, he was too intent on shoving Tony into place so he could continue his assault.
Then the sounds were in the room with him, Taka lost his grip on his shoulders and Tony fell flat on his face into a pool of blood and brain that oozed from the fat man's blown apart head. Tony stared into lifeless eyes that were inches from his own in the floor.
Nakamura was screaming again, his voice high and shrill like a Chihuahua, and in his limited vision Tony saw the vile Asian backing across the floor while another pair of feet followed him slowly, each step measured and deliberate. Nakamura put his hands up in surrender, and even though Tony couldn't speak Japanese he recognized the sound of begging.
A gun was lifted and held up to Nakamura's forehead and the Asian pleaded more frantically, his eyes wide and disbelieving.
Tony couldn't make out who was holding the weapon. Most of his energy was devoted to each shallow breath he pulled into his lungs. He blinked back the darkness, wanting to know what was happening, afraid to believe this might be rescue.
The gun wavered, and Nakamura stopped speaking, letting blessed silence fall over them. Seconds ticked by, before the gun finally dropped and Nakamura sank to his knees, sobbing.
"Get him out of my sight." The voice was rougher and lower than normal, but Tony would have known it anywhere. His already haggard breathing hitched in his chest as he choked back his own tears.
Nakamura sagged in relief, met his eyes, and the corners of his mouth tipped in a hint of a smile. He had all the money in the world, and it wouldn't be difficult to buy his freedom.
Tony's mind went blank, and he watched his own hand remove the gun at Taka's waist as if the appendage belonged to someone else. With a monumental effort he pushed himself onto one knee; Nakamura shook his head and waved his hands frantically. "Stop him," the Asian said, speaking to someone behind him.
"Tony, put the gun down."
The words were soft and clear, it was Gibbs' voice and he should obey.
The gun shook; he was barely able to hold it. Nakamura's lips pressed together and he took several quick breaths. This was the only way to end the nightmare forever. The shot reverberated and the force of the bullet pushed the slave owner into the wall, blood smearing behind him and seeping into his shirt over his heart.
Tony dropped the gun and it clattered to the floor; he collapsed beside it, boneless and numb.
Gibbs was there, gently cradling him. "It's ok now, it's alright." Soft words were murmered over and over, trying to calm him as he felt himself disintegrating into hysteria. His entire body was shaking violently and he had never been so cold in his life.
"I'm going to take care of everything, ok?" Gibbs pushed his matted hair back and kissed him on the forehead, and he suddenly lost whatever tenuous control he had maintained over his emotions, his sobbing mixed in with jagged gasps for air.
With a tenderness he could have never imagined, he was lifted up and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and then he was pressed against a solid chest that assured him of safety and protection. He had no strength of his own so he let the strong arms hold him steady, and he cried harder when he was enveloped by the smell of sawdust and coffee mingled together and surrounding him.
Light kisses brushed his hair and he was rocked like a child. "Shhh….it's over, it's all over." The soothing mantra was repeated until his heaving tears slowed and he hung limply in the firm embrace.
"We need to check him out, Gibbs." The words floated around him like echoes from the bottom of a deep well.
"I know." He could hear the response rumble in Gibbs' chest along with the steady beat of the older man's heart. As Gibbs shifted to hand Tony over he panicked, eyes flying open in abject terror.
"No…," he whispered in a thin, weak voice laced with desperation. "Don't…leave." He clutched Gibbs as tightly as he could, his fingers curled into his shirt. "Please…" He was so far beyond caring if he sounded pathetic that nothing mattered except keeping Gibbs with him.
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Gibbs consoled him, letting a hand brush through his hair. "But we gotta let them fix you up, ok? You don't look so good."
Tony tried to smile but started coughing, and then a flurry of activity ensued that left him swaddled on a gurney with an IV in one arm, a blood pressure cuff on the other, and an oxygen mask strapped to his face. The entire time Gibbs held his hand or touched his arm, never leaving his line of sight and staying in physical contact as much as possible. He caught a glimpse of Fornell, Ziva, and McGee hovering in the hallway. He found comfort in their presence even though he hated them seeing him so broken and helpless; for some reason it brought another swell of tears to his eyes.
A hand stroked his forehead and he looked up into Gibbs' strangely concerned face. He graced Tony with the crooked smile he loved so much. "We're going to fly you to the hospital now, Tony. I'll go, too – the rest of the team will catch up later." Tony blinked and nodded, unable to fully comprehend that the ordeal was finally over. One of the medics said something to Gibbs who answered and then leaned back to Tony. "They're going to give you some medicine to help you relax. Don't worry; I won't go anywhere even when you fall asleep. Understand?"
Tony slipped his hand from under the blanket and held it up. Gibbs saw and took it, wrapping his calloused fingers around Tony's. "Let me take care of everything. You sleep for now." The medic shot something into the IV and Tony felt his eyes grow heavy and was grateful to feel some of the pain lessen. Tony fought to stay awake, but as he lost the battle he heard Gibbs whisper, "I love you, too, Tony," before he succumbed to a mantle of darkness.
NCISNCISNCIS
"Agent Gibbs?"
He turned away from the window and the red glow of the sunrise to look at the nurse who was standing behind him smiling kindly. Her name was Lucia, and she had been with them off and on for the past three days. She glanced down at her clip board and back up, before letting her gaze move over to the silent figure in the bed.
"How did things go last night?" she asked.
Gibbs downed the last of his coffee and followed her to stand next to her patient.
"He woke up a few times and seemed to remember where he was, seemed a little less confused." There was no need to mention all the other times Tony had surfaced to consciousness terrified and fighting them, afraid he was still at the mercy of men who had done everything to destroy him. The images were burned into his memory and he doubted he would ever forget the pain and horror etched into Tony's eyes.
"That's good," she commented, making notes from various monitors before she started checking vital signs. "His oxygen levels keep going up; I'd say we can switch to a nasal cannula before the end of the day." She gave him another sympathetic smile. "Maybe then he can start talking more."
Gibbs' hand trailed down Tony's arm that was resting on top of the blanket, carefully avoiding the multiple bandages covering the burns that marred his skin. "You might regret that."
She laughed. "So he's usually quite a talker I take it."
"Can't get him to shut up." Lucia raised the bed so Tony was sitting up more, his pale face tilted to the side. "How's the fever?"
"Going down. Another good sign. He's not out of the woods, Agent Gibbs, but I'd guess he's turned the corner and will continue to improve. It'll take a while for his fractured ribs and lungs to heal, but there shouldn't be any reason he won't completely recover in time." She raised the sheet and moved the gown to take a look at the chest tube.
"When can that come out?"
"As long as nothing changes, probably tomorrow." She cleaned around the area and put the gown and sheet back in place.
Gibbs would be glad to see the device removed even though it had helped save Tony's life. By the time they had arrived at the naval hospital, the emergency techs had already been forced to intubate just to keep Tony breathing. One of his ribs had punctured a lung which collapsed, and combined with the mild case of pneumonia it nearly caused him to stop breathing completely. The first few hours when they had been trying to stabilize him had been a harrowing time Gibbs never wanted to go through again.
Fortunately the past few days had seen a gradual improvement in DiNozzo's condition despite the fever and constant need for suctioning gunk out of his lungs. They had taken the intubation tube out so he wouldn't become dependent on the machine and to encourage coughing. Respiratory therapists had already been pounding on his back to try and loosen up the thick mucus. They had been down a similar road before with the plague, but that had been before Gibbs had known just how empty his life would be without the younger man.
And it had been without the additional complications of kidnapping and torture. The doctors had treated the cuts and burns, given him enough antibiotics to prevent infection in an elephant, evened out his electrolytes with continuous IVs, and started rebuilding his strength with several bolus of food.
But none of that would make a difference with his emotional state. No one, not even Gibbs, could predict how the experience would affect Tony psychologically. The road back might be longer and harder than any of them could imagine.
Lucia cleared her throat. "I don't mean to pry, but are you his Dom? It's none of my business, but you seem so protective of him."
Gibbs' mouth curled up slightly as he considered her question. No, he wasn't Tony's Dom, not really. With the way everything had transpired, maybe not ever. Tony had started out unsure about identifying as a submissive, and after all he had endured would be justified in never wanting to embrace that status or lifestyle. All Gibbs had the right to ask for now was that Tony recover and have the opportunity to get his life back.
Anything beyond that was more than he could consider.
"No, I'm not his Dom, just his boss. And his friend."
Lucia stared at him, clearly unconvinced by his answer. "Too bad," she finally said. "You two would make a nice couple."
The sound of Tony moaning interrupted the conversation; the nurse was instantly at his side. "I think he's waking up again."
Gibbs put his coffee down and took his place beside her, picking up Tony's hand in his own. When Tony's green eyes opened and he gazed around blearily, Gibbs stroked his sweaty forehead and smiled.
"Hey there," he greeted his senior field agent.
Tony blinked and tried to focus, but his eyes responded sluggishly. He attempted to raise his head and push himself up.
"Agent DiNozzo," the nurse admonished, but Gibbs could tell what Tony needed. He put a hand behind Tony's back and pushed him forward, already pounding between his shoulder blades. Lucia picked up on the situation and removed the oxygen mask, grabbing a basin so the young man could spit out whatever he was forcing out of his lungs. Several minutes of torturous coughing transpired before they could help the sick man lay down, totally spent from the ordeal.
Gibbs held out a cup of water and waited patiently while Tony drank a few sips. "Tired," he whispered, his voice rough from disuse and coughing.
"I know," Gibbs replied, continuing to brush a hand through his hair. "You can rest all you want. We've got nowhere to be."
Tony forced his eyes open. "You…should go home."
"Nope. Not letting you out of my sight. It's a new rule."
The small but weak chuckle made him happier than anything had in weeks. "Too many…rules."
"You've always managed to keep them straight," Gibbs teased. He pressed his lips together, wondering if Tony was strong enough to talk about what they had experienced. The way his agent was drifting in and out convinced him the discussion would have to wait. He was content with watching Tony sleep.
"Gibbs." The green eyes slid open and pinned him down with their intensity. "Are we….is everything ok?"
Leave it to Tony to push the situation even when he was half dead. "Don't worry about anything right now, Tony. We'll take it one day at a time."
Tony bit his lip. "I…I meant what I said." He ended the statement with a cough that turned his face red and had Lucia hovering.
"He really needs to put this mask back on," she warned.
"Ok," Gibbs agreed, concerned by the way DiNozzo was gasping. "Come on, Tony, I can't have you suffocating on me."
DiNozzo tried to turn his face away, but he was outnumbered and too weak to fight them. His feeble protests left him panting, and when the mask was back on he closed his eyes and took several slow breaths, his face pinched tightly.
"Are you in pain?" Lucia asked, while taking his pulse and checking his blood pressure. Tony's eyes fluttered and he didn't try to respond.
"Hell, DiNozzo, don't be a damn martyr." The older man turned to the nurse. "Give him some medication since he's not going to tell you he needs it."
Tony managed to roll his eyes but didn't protest when she inserted a needle in the IV line. He lay quietly for a while, and Gibbs was relieved when the taut lines of pain eased in his agent's face.
Gibbs passed the time by rubbing Tony's hand, glad when the green eyes opened again. "I meant what I said, too," he offered quietly. Tony's eyes narrowed quizzically. "Do you remember what I said when I found you?"
Tony continued to frown and shook his head, his eyes barely slits as he struggled against the sleep pulling him down.
Gibbs smiled and kissed Tony's fingers. "I love you, too."
Tony's expression softened into something halfway between sorrow and relief; Gibbs swiped a thumb under his eye when several tears built up and spilled out.
"Hey, none of that," Gibbs urged. "We'll talk some more when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere." He held Tony's hand until the younger man finally drifted back to sleep.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony stared out the window at the rain streaking the glass. It had been raining ever since he returned to DC and the grey masses of clouds blotting out the sun reflected the mood in his soul. He couldn't explain the restless feeling, didn't know why he was so sullen, depressed, and angry. He didn't want to feel this way, but the mood seemed beyond his control, like so much else in his life. It had soaked into his bones like the downpour of rain had soaked into the ground.
Gibbs had called in more markers than Tony knew he was owed to get them flown back to the states and settled in a room on the respiratory care floor of Bethesda. The trip had been exhausting despite his only contribution being to lay strapped to a gurney, yet somehow the travel left him completely spent. The fatigue was pissing him off, the pain in his ribs was pissing him off, the fact no one would listen when he said he wanted to go home was pissing him off. It didn't surprise him that Gibbs had left for a while to check out things at the office; it wasn't like Tony was very good company.
They hadn't really talked much about what was going on between them, both of them reverting back to previous roles that didn't rely on words. The feelings were still there, and it was clear Gibbs loathed leaving him alone for any length of time. He had been as overprotective as a mother bear, to the point that the doctors and nurses spent more time discussing Tony's condition with the lead agent than they did with him. No one wanted to take a chance on getting on the silver haired man's bad side.
Tony wasn't sure what he thought about that. Having Gibbs nearby calmed and comforted him in a way that was almost primal; when the older man was gone he felt slightly panicky and unsure of himself. Strangers made him uncomfortable and jumpy. He'd spent decades of his life living alone, and the newly acquired nervousness was something else that pissed him off.
It was also frustrating that no one appeared inclined to let him make any of his own decisions. His constant desire to go home was soundly ignored by both Gibbs and the doctors. They said he had something called flail chest because so many ribs had been broken and it was going to take longer to heal than normal fractures. He'd been sick a few times so they still had him on a soft diet and wouldn't let him eat anything more substantial than oatmeal. Therapists pounded on his back three times a day and put him through enough breathing exercises to qualify him for the respiratory Olympics. They wouldn't even take out the damn IV since he couldn't shake the fever that had clung to him like a stalker ex-girlfriend. Even now a cold sweat prickled his skin.
Calling him irritable was an understatement.
He hadn't been able to lift himself out of his sour demeanor even when Gibbs had tried to get him to open up and talk, which might have been a sign of the end of the world. Gibbs' blue eyes had flashed in frustration, yet somehow the older man had managed to stay calm, eventually announcing his need to go to NCIS for a few hours. Tony really didn't blame him.
The last thing Gibbs told Tony was to call a nurse if he needed anything; he had yet to venture out of bed on his own. But looking at the door on the other side of the room he realized all he wanted was to get up and pee by himself, Gibbs' orders be damned. He wasn't a child and he wasn't a slave, and he could do anything he wanted to do.
Gritting his teeth he shifted his legs and let them dangle off the side of the bed. His chest screamed in protest; a week and a half after his liberation from Nakamura, his fractured ribs had barely started to heal. Pushing himself upright he gasped in agony and succumbed to a coughing fit.
"You can do this, DiNozzo," he chastised, forcing his feet to the floor and standing quickly. Sweat broke out on his body and he swayed, but refused to sink back down. Instead he stepped forward, determined to make the short trip across the floor. Gripping the IV pole he pulled it along with him. He didn't know why doing this alone mattered so much, had no idea what was so significant about refusing to ask for help. For some reason he had to do this, he had to make a choice on his own without asking for permission or waiting for assistance.
By the time he was in the middle of the room he realized his sojourn might have been a mistake. He wrapped his arm around his torso and hunched over, trying to hold himself together long enough to get to the door frame. He had just reached out his free hand toward the back of a chair when the door to his room opened and Gibbs strode inside.
The disruption threw him off balance and he fell over, hitting the floor in an ungainly heap and knocking the breath from his body.
"Shit!" he yelled, acknowledging the shooting pain in his chest. He curled into a ball and grunted.
"Damnit, DiNozzo!" Gibbs cried, dropping his coffee in the floor as he rushed to Tony's side. "What are you doing out of bed? I told you to call for a nurse!"
"I….don't need….a damn…nurse!" Tony gasped, unable to control his breathing through the shards of pain. "I can go….to the bathroom when….when I want to!"
"Not when you end up in the floor! If you can't do what you're told maybe I need to get a nurse to stick a catheter back up your dick!" Gibbs shouted, leaving Tony to go and push the call button.
Tony felt the blood drain from his face at Gibbs' threat. He ignored the pain and struggled to sit up, crawling on his hands and knees toward the bathroom. The IV line ripped free and a small stream of blood spurted onto the floor. "You can't….do that," he said, slowly moving across the linoleum. "You…can't do that."
"DiNozzo, sit still until someone comes to help us," Gibbs demanded, coming up behind him, his face drawn with worry.
Tony shook his head. "No..no…I want…to go to the….bathroom." He continued to crawl, unable to stop. Gibbs couldn't tell him what to do, no one could. And no one was touching his dick without permission.
"Tony," the tone was soft and remorseful. Gibbs knelt down next to him and put his hands on his shoulders. "Please, you need to let me help you."
Tony was almost to the threshold of the door and he refused to give up, so he moved past Gibbs and kept going. Something in his mind whispered this was crazy, but he pushed it aside. His ribs ached unbearably and he was breathing erratically, but it didn't matter. Not even Gibbs was telling him what to do this time.
Gibbs increased the pressure on his shoulders and gently shoved him backwards, moving in front of Tony so he had to stop. "Tony…."
"No!" DiNozzo yelled, lunging forward. He banged his fists against Gibbs' chest, his attack weakened by his lack of strength. Gibbs' blue eyes widened with shock, but Tony continued to hit him, weeks of frustration unleashing itself in his fit of rage.
"Stop telling me what to do! I need to….." he pulled in a hitching breath and choked back a sob, his wrists trapped in Gibbs' hands.
The door opened again, and he saw Gibbs wave whoever was standing there back out in the hall.
"What do you need, Tony?" Gibbs asked, his eyes calm and understanding. "It's alright, you can tell me."
What did he need? He didn't want to say it. Gibbs had said he loved him, and he wanted that so very, very much. Yet even Gibbs' love wasn't enough, it couldn't fill up the emptiness that had been left inside him.
With a sigh, Tony closed his eyes. When he opened them, he knew he was close to tears again and he hated himself for the display of weakness. "I need to be by myself, Gibbs. I need….. to go home to my apartment and…..and make my own breakfast, and go…..to the bathroom alone. I need to be me again." He sounded like he was pleading for something, his tone harsh and broken, and he didn't think it made any sense.
Gibbs touched his cheek and smiled wanly before pulling him close and hugging him firmly. "I get it, Tony," he said with quiet assurance. Tony melted into the embrace, unsure why Gibbs was so willing to put up with him. He clung to the older man, a part of him yearning for independence yet another part never wanting to let go. They stayed that way until Tony calmed down and weariness overtook him. "Come on, it's back to bed for you." He pulled Tony out of floor and guided him across the room, settling him into bed and tucking covers around him. With a strange look on his face, Gibbs picked up his hand and kissed his palm, holding his hand for a few minutes before placing it back on the bed.
Tony felt confused, contrite, and penitent. He was pushing Gibbs away when he needed him most. How could he survive without Gibbs there to protect him? "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me," he apologized meekly. He paused before asking the question that bothered him most. "Do you think I'm ruined?"
Gibbs brushed his knuckles over Tony's cheek. "No, never. You just need more time." He smiled. "I'm going to have the nurse come in and make sure you didn't do any permanent damage." Gibbs walked to the door of the room, glancing back at Tony worriedly. "I'll be waiting for you, Tony, when you're ready."
The door clicked shut and Tony lay there, exhausted and embarrassed. After the IV was put back in and he had been escorted to the bathroom and back, he noticed that Gibbs hadn't returned to his chair at the side of the bed.
The older man had given Tony what he asked for, and as the sun set low in the sky, Tony fell asleep alone.