Author's Note: Thanks again for the lovely reviews! My elbow has been driving me crazy the last few days, but I haven't let it stop me from writing because I want to keep this going for you guys. The pacing has been deliberately slow so far, with just enough excitement to keep the plot moving. After this chapter, the pace picks up and we go pretty fast and furious until the end. Things do not go smoothly for our dear Tony, and lots of hurt/comfort is on the way.
Keep updating me on what you think; as I always look forward to hearing from you after a chapter is posted!
TLH
Gibbs swept off the elevator and into the bullpen, catching a startled McGee and Ziva off-guard. "Report," he commanded, sitting behind his desk and immediately checking his messages and e-mails. Vance needed an update; the SecNav had finished funeral arrangements for his son and wanted to hear what progress was being made in finding the murderer. This was getting too damn complicated.
The two agents stood and approached his desk. "Boss," McGee started hesitantly. "There is definitely something hinky going on with that couple you asked us to investigate."
Gibbs lifted an eyebrow and waited for the young man to continue. McGee took a breath and plunged ahead. "Someone has doctored their records. Someone really good. I've requested hard copies of their birth certificates, passports, things like that, but I have a feeling they're all fake. From what I've been able to gather, both of them appeared out of the blue about twenty-five years ago under their current aliases. Records prior to that time are sketchy at best."
Ziva clicked the center screen. "What is even more unusual is their appearance. These are pictures of them from around 1985." She clicked again, and another set of photographs were added. "These photos show them last week. They appear not to have aged at all."
Gibbs remained silent, simply watching as the agents laid out the case without his help. Perhaps this part of the problem would be easier to deal with than he thought.
The Israeli took his lack of response as a sign to go on. "They are considered leading experts in the research and study of vampirism. Together they have authored several books on the subject and are frequent guests on talk shows and the lecture circuit. They have quite a cult following, and we even found a web site dedicated to their work. It is called BloodTies."
McGee took the remote and clicked once more. A web page opened; the writing a swirl of Gothic letters, pictures of Adrian and Maria prominently displayed in the center of the screen. They were shown dressed in a variety of Victorian and Gothic garb; ruffles, leather, and lace giving them the perfect image of time-honored vampires. Gibbs was briefly surprised, before realizing the cleverness of the tactic. They were hiding right under everyone's noses, allowed to flaunt their true natures while the unsuspecting public wrote them off as a couple of fringe kooks. It was brilliant.
The junior agent cleared his throat. "We were speculating that they've taken their obsession to the ultimate extreme and actually started killing as vampires. It still doesn't explain how they removed the blood from the bodies, but it does give us a place to focus the investigation."
He and Ziva turned to look at the lead agent expectantly, waiting for a verdict on their less than practical theory.
"Have you checked their financials?" Gibbs asked, pushing them further.
McGee jumped in with a quick answer. "They're loaded, boss. A chunk of their money comes from the profits of their books and lectures, but I can't account for the majority of their funds. It seems to trace back to inheritances from relatives in Europe, but the money trail is fairly complex."
Gibbs tilted his head. "How do you explain the fact they haven't aged?"
Ziva tried not to look unsure of her answer. "Plastic surgery?"
"Any other ideas?" Gibbs prodded. "That's some damn good work they've had done."
The agents looked at each other before giving up. "No, not really," McGee admitted. "What made you suspicious of these two anyway, Boss? Did Abby or Ducky come up with something?"
Gibbs stood. "I know them, McGee. I've known them for a very long time." It was a cryptic response, designed to jolt their curiosity.
Ziva's eyes darkened. "You know them?"
The older man strode toward the elevator. "Yep. Meet me in Abby's lab in twenty minutes. We have something important to discuss." He left behind him two very stunned and confused federal agents.
Gibbs headed for the coffee shop on the corner. Coffee and donuts might help make what was going to be a very abnormal revelation seem a little more normal. He pulled out his cell and called the Medical Examiner.
"Yes, Jethro, what can I do for you?"
"Get Palmer and go to Abby's lab in about fifteen minutes. I'm going to tell them the truth about what's happening."
He could almost hear Ducky thinking over the phone. "Are you certain that is the best course of action?"
"If we can get them through the initial shock, yes, I think it is. If we're going to continue to work as a team, they have to know the truth. Plus, I think we're going to need the help before this is all over."
The ME sighed in resignation. "Well, I'll do my very best to soften the blow as much as possible. We might have to show them some proof, though. Especially for Ziva; she doesn't strike me as the type to take much stock in the supernatural."
"Whatever it takes, Ducky. I'll see you there."
Gibbs shut the phone and took his place in line at the coffee shop. More than any other group he'd ever worked with, he believed in this team. The information might be hard to process at first, but they could take it. He wouldn't let himself think otherwise.
If there was any chance of protecting DiNozzo, they had no choice.
NCISNCISNCIS
By the time Gibbs returned balancing several trays of coffee and a box of donuts, the team was already gathered in the lab. If it wasn't obvious by now that something strange was going on, the fact that the lead agent had gone out of his way to bring everyone something to eat and drink sealed the deal.
"Thank you," Ziva said suspiciously when Gibbs handed her a cappuccino.
"Yeah, thanks Boss," McGee added, taking a cup that Gibbs held out to him. "This is, uh, very nice of you." He gave Palmer a helpless shrug. The youngest team member was so excited to be included that he looked like a kid ready to tear into his Christmas presents. He grinned as he picked up his own drink and started sipping.
After Abby claimed her Caf-Pow, the only drink left was the one with hazelnut flavoring and extra cream. Gibbs handed the cup to Tony who took it without a word to the lead agent, sitting it on the table beside his stack of uneaten chocolate.
"Want a donut?" McGee asked, grabbing a sprinkle covered pastry for himself. "They have jelly-filled." He wasn't sure what to make of this sulky and silent DiNozzo, but it wasn't a good sign.
"No thanks, Tim," Tony said with a shake of his head.
"You sure?" McGee asked, already holding the sugary treat in a napkin. "I've never seen you turn down a donut. You must be feeling really bad."
"I'll be fine," Tony assured his partner. Abby moved close to Tony and linked her hand into his. McGee noticed that the Goth didn't have any eye make-up on; her face looked freshly scrubbed and she might have been crying.
"What's going on?" he asked, disconcerted and suddenly very worried. "Is Gibbs retiring again?"
The silver-haired agent stood in the center of the room. "No, Tim, I'm not retiring. But I do have something to share with you that is going to be difficult to accept."
He called me Tim? This is going to be awful news.
McGee glanced at Tony, who was studying his coffee cup and refused to meet eyes with anyone. It occurred to him that the senior field agent looked awful; his normally perfectly coifed hair was unstyled as if he'd just had a shower and his face was pinched and haggard. There was definitely something going on here they hadn't been told. McGee's eyes went back to Gibbs, waiting for the hammer to drop.
Gibbs hesitated. In all his years of existence, he had never struggled with saying what was on his mind. This, however, was not a typical situation and he was finding it hard to say what he needed to. Ziva, McGee, and Palmer were all staring at him with cautious anticipation. Abby was practically shaking. The tension was thick and palpable.
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Abby finally blurted, unable to stand it anymore. "Ducky and Gibbs are both vampires."
"Did you just say vampires?" Palmer's cup froze halfway to his mouth and his eyes grew round as saucers.
"Come on, Abby," McGee chastised. "I don't think this is the time to joke around. Gibbs seems pretty serious about whatever is going on."
The team leader casually took a drink of coffee. "She's telling the truth."
"Excuse me?" McGee said, eyes wide open with disbelief. "That's impossible." He stared at Gibbs who simply took another drink of coffee and pursed his lips unhappily. "Not that I'm questioning you, Boss. But seriously….vampires? That's crazy."
Ziva unfolded her arms and walked up to Gibbs, stopping within inches of his face. "Show me your fangs," she demanded.
Gibbs gazed down at her and then smiled easily. The smile broadened until his teeth were showing, revealing long, sharp canines dropping into place. His blue eyes sparkled innocently while the transformation occurred.
McGee gave a strangled cry and fell face-first onto the floor.
"Timmy!" Abby cried and ran to his side, gently rolling him over and tapping his face.
The Israeli ignored her fallen teammate and turned toward Ducky. "You too."
The old Scot did as Gibbs had, opening wide to show brilliant white, knife sharp fangs slip down within seconds.
"Oh, my, gosh," Palmer whispered softly, taking a few steps back across the room.
McGee groaned and tried to sit up; Abby helped him gain his balance. "I just dreamed Gibbs had fangs," he told her cautiously, his hand anchored on her wrist. "I must be hallucinating, Abby. Do I have a concussion?"
"No, Tim, you fainted."
"Fainted?" the young man saw Gibbs watching him, lethal fangs pressing into his Boss' bottom lip.
"You gonna be ok, Tim?" Gibbs asked with concern.
McGee started quaking and slumped against Abby. "It's real. This is real, isn't it?" He observed Abby's face for confirmation that he wasn't losing his mind.
"Yes, Tim. This is all very real." She helped the woozy agent stand, letting him lean on her for support. She pinched him and he yelped.
"What was that for?" he asked, rubbing his arm.
"Validation," she replied and smiled.
Ziva's neutral expression never wavered. She turned back toward Gibbs. "In the Mossad, we are trained to handle many unexpected circumstances. We were told the only ways to kill a vampire is with a direct strike to the heart, opening a major vein such as the jugular or the femoral artery to allow for a rapid bleed-out, fire, and beheading. Is this correct?
Gibbs smiled again. "Yes, Ziva. A slow bleed-out will also work if the vampire doesn't have access to fresh blood, and fire is only successful if the vampire is completely engulfed. Beheading is the most effective method."
She nodded. "My father fought and killed a vampire once. He loved to tell me the story very late at night. I never knew if I should believe him or not. I suppose he was telling me the truth."
Palmer waved his hands in front of him. "But what about all the myths? Sunlight and garlic and crucifixes? I mean, Kate used to wear a cross all the time and it never bothered either of you."
Ducky placed a hand on his assistant's shoulder, causing Jimmy to jump several inches. "Almost none of it is to be taken seriously, Mr. Palmer. Most of those tales are merely legends that have developed over the centuries and as a species we have never done anything to set the record straight. Keeping the public unsure about our true natures has actually proven to be very beneficial."
McGee gaped at his colleagues. "You have to drink blood to survive, right? That isn't a myth. Do you, I mean, how do you…do you drink human blood?"
"Yes, McGee we have to drink human blood in order to stay alive. But we don't have to kill, and most of our kind takes every precaution that the donor is unharmed. There are rogue vampires who don't follow the rules; the majority of us are not evil and we are not killers." Gibbs explained as briefly as possible.
Ducky smiled; the grin incongruous with the pointed weapons he was no longer hiding inside his mouth. "Both Jethro and I are quite old, Timothy, and our need for blood is not nearly what it was when we were young. Neither of us feeds more than once a month unless we are ill and need to recuperate. The remainder of the time we do quite well with dietary supplements."
McGee decided not to ask for more details about the "dietary supplements"; instead he grabbed another stool and pulled it over to sit beside Tony, who remained uncharacteristically quiet. The young man glanced down at the bruise peeking out from Tony's shirt sleeve and gasped.
"You were bit!" he exclaimed. "It wasn't some kinky sex scene; you were bit by a damn vampire!"
Tony pulled the sleeve down to cover the mark. "It's ok, McGee. Gibbs and Ducky assure me I won't sprout fangs or line up for a withdrawal at the blood bank any time soon."
The pale and drawn features on the senior field agent suddenly made sense to everyone who was looking at him. Tony steadfastly gazed at the pile of paper he had peeled off his cup and made no more comment.
Ziva frowned deeply, unsettled by Tony's complete withdrawal from the conversation. This was the type of discovery that would normally have him revved into high gear, but instead he sat silently slumped over the table. "Why is Tony being attacked? What have you not told us?"
Gibbs launched into a brief and succinct explanation of the threats against Tony, including Gabriel's hope to get Gibbs to fight him as well as Tony's status as a bellus. Abby provided supporting details using her genealogical chart as an illustration.
Tony peeled the rest of the paper from his coffee cup during the discussion, refusing to participate even though the exchange focused primarily on him. When Abby told them about his mother's involvement, he cringed slightly.
Ziva snorted once she heard that the term bellus could be translated as beautiful. "You should be happy, Tony. Your good looks have now been confirmed."
"Yeah, Ziva. Maybe I'll get to be the centerfold for the next issue of Bloodsuckers Monthly. If they try real hard maybe they can make it a scratch and sniff. I just hope they don't cover up my best assets with a staple."
"So a little staple would be enough to hide your pride and joy? Based upon your bragging I am surprised to hear that," she teased.
"Hey, a staple's big compared to the pictures in a magazine! My endowments are perfectly fine, I'll have you know," he countered, displaying some of the DiNozzo spark.
"I will take your word for it." She took a drink of her cappuccino and smirked.
"Settle down, children," Gibbs admonished. He gazed appreciatively at Ziva, fully aware that she had challenged Tony in order to bring him out of his funk. It had worked briefly, before DiNozzo once again drooped on the stool and resumed picking at his cup.
McGee's face had gone curious again. This was absolutely the freakiest thing he'd ever heard, but at the same time it was fascinating. "What about Jackson Gibbs and Ducky's mother? How do they fit into all this?"
"Jackson is a descendent of mine. Members of my family have always known, and have allowed me to use their identities to establish a human background throughout a variety of lifetimes. New technology is complicating things, but people like Abby have been a big help with that," Gibbs informed them. "Shannon knew, too, but none of my other wives did."
Ducky's voice was grim and sad. "Victoria was not my mother; she was in reality my wife of over fifty years. Alzheimer's made the age difference quite confusing for her, and it became easier to let her believe that I was her son."
Ziva placed a hand on the ME's arm. "I am so sorry." He smiled at her gratefully, his blue eyes watery.
"So you can have sex?" Palmer exclaimed; everyone turned to stare at him.
"Come on! All of you wanted to ask!"
"Yes, Palmer, we can have sex," Gibbs answered with a low growl that had the young man moving to the far side of the lab. The lead agent ran a hand through his hair to calm himself. "I realize this is difficult information to accept and that all of you must have a lot of questions. Abby is an expert on the subject of vampires and should be able to explain anything you want to know more about," he offered, ending the line of questioning. He wasn't about to discuss his sex life with Jimmy Palmer.
Abby had once again moved close to Tony and was rubbing the back of his neck. Her eyes lit up at the compliment. "There's nothing I like to talk about more," she said happily. McGee made another connection.
"How long have you known about this?"
She bit her lip nervously. "Since before I came to work at NCIS. Through my genealogical research I figured out who Gibbs was, and took advantage of the opportunity to get a job here. When he hired me he didn't know I knew."
Gibbs took a sip of coffee. "And she's proven her loyalty by keeping my secret all this time. I'm sure I don't have to emphasize how imperative it is you never speak of this with anyone."
Heads nodded solemnly.
"Good. Now for the time being I don't think anyone should be alone; Gabriel and his followers could attack any of you in an effort to get at me."
Ziva spoke first. "I can stay with Abby if she does not mind."
"Cool! A slumber party! It'll be just like middle school, and we can stay up all night telling vampire stories!"
Gibbs rolled his eyes.
"If McGee and Mr. Palmer will agree, I offer my home to them for the duration. I have plenty of extra rooms and it will give me an opportunity to share more information with them about our kind. What do you say, boys?"
The two younger men looked at each other nervously. "Um, it's awfully nice of you to offer…." Palmer began.
Ducky shook his head. "Don't imply you're afraid to stay with me! Mr. Palmer, if I had intended to bite you I've had ample opportunity to do so over the years with absolutely no interference. Stop being so childish and realize this is the best way for you to be protected. I have a great deal more experience killing vampires than either of you!" the small vampire clucked with indignity.
"Ok, Ducky. We'll stay with you, right Palmer?" McGee agreed in an effort to placate the ME.
Jimmy tried not to look like he was being led to an execution. "Sure we will. It'll be…..fun."
"DiNozzo's with me. Tomorrow I'll fill you in on the game plan and we'll get back to work proving the connection between Adrian, Maria, and our murder victims. Right now, go home, get some rest, and call if you need anything."
With a few murmers, the group broke apart. Gibbs walked over to Tony, who hadn't moved to leave.
"Come on. We'll stop by your place so you can pick up some clothes."
Tony opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it closed when Gibbs glared disapprovingly.
"Fine," Tony mumbled and slowly stood, catching himself on the table when his knees buckled. Gibbs' eyes narrowed and his hand darted out to Tony's elbow, steadying him.
"Did you eat anything today?"
"Abby gave me some candy." Tony gestured at the partially eaten chocolate bar.
Gibbs shook his head. "You have to eat, Tony. You've lost quite a bit of blood in the past few days. It's not a good idea to let yourself get too weak."
"It's not like getting my blood sucked out was my idea. I'm fine; let's get out of here."
Tony walked away, back stiff, refusing to allow Gibbs to help him anymore.
Gibbs followed a few steps behind, letting the younger man have a wide berth, but prepared to catch him if he fell again.
NCISNCISNCIS
Abby's pajamas were red and covered with small black bats. Ziva laughed at the matching black house slippers that were also shaped like bats with small pointed ears sticking out on each side. "Cute, huh?" Abby asked, raising her hands and turning in a circle.
"Where do you buy your clothes, Abby?" Ziva asked. "I have never seen anything like what you wear in the stores where I shop."
"Then I guess you're just going to have to go shopping with me!" Abby exclaimed, bouncing onto the bed where Ziva lay and landing on her knees. Ziva always joked that Tony was an overgrown child, but it was Abby who retained a true childlike innocence.
Abby's smile slipped from her face when she noted Ziva's serious expression.
"You're worried, aren't you?"
Ziva folded her hands. "Yes, Abby, I am very worried. It is clear that Gibbs is reluctant to make Tony into a vampire, and honestly I have no idea if Tony would go through with such an idea even if it was offered. This Gabriel sounds very determined to get what he wants, and if he cannot fight with Gibbs, it stands to reason he will not stop until he gets his hands on Tony. We both know that keeping Tony under lock and key indefinitely will not work out well. The problem has no solution that does not end with Tony harmed in some way."
Abby crossed her legs under her. "Gibbs will figure something out. He always does; that's why he's the Bossman."
Ziva gave a wistful smile. "It is still hard for me to believe he and Ducky are vampires. They have hidden it well."
"When you've been hiding for as long as they have you get good at it." She picked at one of the ears on her slipper. "Tony's mad; he thinks Gibbs should have told him everything from the beginning."
"Perhaps Tony has a point. It is his life that is at stake."
Abby sighed. "Maybe. I'm just afraid if he doesn't forgive Gibbs he'll do something stupid. Not that Tony's stupid; but he does have a habit of acting before he thinks, especially if he's upset."
"We will make sure he does not do anything stupid, Abby. That is what friends are for, yes?"
"Yes," Abby agreed, getting off the bed to go to her coffin. "Sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite!"
"Bed bugs?" Ziva repeated, sitting up in alarm.
Abby laughed. "It's just a saying Ziva, it doesn't mean anything."
Ziva lay back down on the bed. "Even if I am turned into a vampire and live a thousand years I will never understand the American language," she complained before turning out the light.
NCISNCISNCIS
"Alright, gentlemen, your beds await!" Ducky proclaimed to his slightly nervous houseguests.
"Thanks, Ducky." McGee smiled and stood, glad to get up off the uncomfortable sofa. Palmer sat across from him in a large lounge chair, his thin body engulfed by the cushions. He was already dozing, lulled by the fire the ME had started before leaving to prepare their rooms.
Ducky looked down on his assistant fondly. "Ah, Mr. Palmer, what am I to do with you?"
McGee chuckled. "You'd think since we're spending the night with a vampire, he'd be too anxious to sleep."
"Indeed," the doctor agreed. "Is that how you feel Timothy? I do hope you are no longer afraid of me or Jethro. We would die before harming any of you."
McGee thinned his lips. "I know that Dr. Mallard. It's just that everything in my world shifted off center tonight and I'll need some time to adjust. I'm sorry I reacted so badly earlier."
"Not to worry, my boy. Why once when I was in Edinburgh I saw a young man run naked down the street screaming his lungs out after witnessing a vampire bare his fangs. It was quite an eyeful I have to say."
"I guess now I understand why you have so many stories to tell. How old are you exactly?"
Ducky grinned. "Let's just say I missed the Dark Ages but was already a man grown before the Renaissance."
Counting in his head, Tim tried to come up with a time-frame for that. "So that makes you something like…..five or six hundred years old?"
"Around that. It isn't polite to discuss someone's age, Timothy."
"Is Gibbs as old as you?" the young agent persisted.
"Not quite, but he's no spring chicken. Now let's rouse Mr. Palmer and get some rest before we face a long day tomorrow." He shook his assistant on the arm. "Come along, lad, time for bed."
"What?" Jimmy said, sitting up. "Oh, Doctor Mallard, I forgot where I was for a minute." Palmer straightened his glasses and stood, cautiously following the ME and McGee up the stairs.
"You should be pleased that you both have your own rooms. Breakfast will be ready by 6:00 am and towels are in the hall closet. If you don't have any other questions, I'll bid you goodnight."
"I think we're fine. Goodnight," McGee answered politely; it was hard for him not to use his best manners when talking to the medical examiner.
After Ducky shut the door to his bedroom, Palmer and McGee exchanged nervous looks. "Nothing to be worried about, right?" Jimmy said softly. "Just a night with sweet, old-really old-Dr. Mallard who happens to be a vampire."
"Exactly," McGee agreed. "We've known him for years. Nothing's changed that much."
"Except for the fact he has three inch fangs and could probably kill both of us in a heartbeat," Palmer stated dryly.
The doctor's door opened and he poked his grey head out the crack. "One thing I forgot to mention. Vampires have highly acute senses; I can actually hear every word you're saying. I thought you might want to know that. Goodnight, gentlemen."
"Goodnight, Ducky," the two men chorused.
Once the doctor's door shut a second time, Tim moved toward his room. "Night, Jimmy," he whispered.
"Uh, yeah. See you in the morning." Palmer answered quietly. I hope.
NCISNCISNCIS
Dead leaves crunched under Tony's feet as he walked up the front steps to Gibbs' house. Normally he loved staying at Gibbs' place; it was right up there with spring break in Panama City. This time he felt like he used to feel going home to his Dad's house after getting kicked out of boarding school. He didn't like associating Gibbs' home with such unpleasant emotions.
Following Gibbs inside, he stood awkwardly in the foyer. Instead of making himself at home like he usually did, he stood silently and shifted the weight of his duffel bag on his shoulder.
"You know where the guest room is. Towels and sheets are in the bathroom closet." The stern voice carried out to him from the kitchen.
Gibbs seemed to want to avoid talking about the situation; Tony could go along with that. Anything he had to say right now would only lead to an argument, and he was too worn out for a fight.
He trudged up the stairs and threw his bag on the bed before heading for the shower. Rooting around in a drawer he found an old bottle of bath gel he'd left there; turning on the water as hot as he could take it, he stepped inside the rolling steam. The warmth of the water helped ease his sore and tense muscles, but he still felt lost and confused. Gibbs was his rock, his anchor, and losing that left him floating around in his life untethered.
He should have remembered not to trust anyone, since they all let him down eventually.
Even Gibbs.
Images stole across his memory.
"I'm sorry, Tony, I don't want to do this." Gibbs lifted his wrist toward his mouth.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, Mommy knows what's best." His mother's green eyes shone as she picked him up and handed him over to the frightening blonde who always made him cry.
"You are so beautiful." Gabriel whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down Tony's spine.
"Fuck," Tony said aloud, and turned off the water. He toweled dry and put on pajama pants and a t-shirt before going back to the guest room and staring out the window. Gusts of wind picked up multi-colored leaves and swirled them through the air. Stark tree branches stood lifeless against the dull sky. A couple dressed in warm sweats jogged down the street. A few houses down a dog barked.
Life, such as it was, went on, even when his world was falling apart. Life had a way of doing that.
Tony leaned his head against the window wishing he had some clue what to do now.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs heard the shower turn off. He tossed some ham, turkey, and cheese onto a couple slices of bread; his luck held out and there were a few pickles left in the jar. A bag of chips and two cans of soda finished off the simple meal.
The fact that Tony was pissed came as no surprise to him. It was his own reaction to Tony's anger that took him aback. He couldn't stop wondering what he would do if Tony didn't forgive him. It struck him that even though he had never turned DiNozzo, the younger man was already very much his Child, and losing Tony now was completely unfathomable. Whether he ever became a vampire or not, the senior field agent was his family, and that would never change, regardless of the circumstances. He needed to find a way to get through to Tony that none of his decisions were meant to cause any harm.
He figured there had been enough time for Tony to get dressed, so he headed upstairs, balancing the plates, tucking the cans under his arm, and carrying the chips in his teeth. The bag nearly fell out of his mouth when he saw Tony standing with his head resting on the window pane, his expression completely unguarded and profoundly depressed. DiNozzo turned around at the sound, and Gibbs swore the boy looked like someone had just killed his dog. Or he just found out his best friends are liars.
Gibbs dropped the chips on the bed and sat the plates and cans on the nightstand. "You gotta eat something." Sometimes he wished his voice didn't sound so gruff—his soldier like tone wasn't going to do much to put Tony at ease.
Picking up his own plate, Gibbs silently got to work on his sandwich. After a pause Tony sat down next to him and started nibbling. When Gibbs opened the bag of chips and held them out, Tony took a few and added them to his plate. They were nearly halfway through when Tony sat his sandwich down and looked at Gibbs.
"Do you even need to eat?"
Stuffing the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, Gibbs chewed and swallowed. "Not much. We do need to drink or we dehydrate after a while, but the effects take a lot longer than in a human." He grinned. "I like the taste of food. And alcohol. It takes a lot more of that to have an effect, too."
Tony didn't respond; he put his plate with the half-eaten meal on the table.
"Thanks." He made it clear there wasn't anything else to say.
"Stay here," Gibbs stated and left the room. He returned with a small vial of salve. "Ducky said to rub this on the bites; it's supposed to help them heal and take the sting out." He held his hand out for Tony's wrist.
The younger man complied, allowing Gibbs to rub a generous amount into the scabbed over wound. He tried not to wince, but didn't succeed. The area still hurt like hell.
The bruised site on his neck came next; it was newer and hurt even worse. Gibbs frowned while Tony grimaced.
"You can leave that," Tony commented, pointing at the lotion. "I've kind of got another one in a spot you don't want to see."
"Where?" Gibbs demanded unpleasantly. "When did that happen?"
Tony shrugged. "My hot date the other night? It was Maria. She had a thing for my inner thigh."
"Dammit, DiNozzo. You should have said something." Gibbs slammed the vial on the table.
"That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"
They stared at each other, before finally Gibbs sighed. There was a lot he needed to say to Tony, but he'd been a prideful man hundreds of years ago and not much had changed. Time hadn't helped him learn how to communicate, and he had a string of ex-wives to prove it.
"It's still early. You want to watch some tv? There's probably a game on." It was his typical olive branch, and one that DiNozzo usually accepted.
Tony stared out the window at the darkening sky. "No, I'm really tired. I think I'll just get some sleep."
He wasn't shocked that Tony turned down the offer. "Alright. Yell if you need anything."
His senior field agent didn't look at him when Gibbs carried the plates from the room and quietly shut the door.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony tossed and turned in the bed, but couldn't find a comfortable position; he eventually gave up trying and lay on his back staring at the ceiling. It reminded him of the night of his twelfth birthday, when he found out just how fractured his relationship with DiNozzo Senior really was.
Right before bed he had been summoned to Senior's study and informed that his father was getting married and he was being sent to boarding school. Tony hadn't known how to react; he'd never been an easy child, but after his mother's death Senior had been all that was stable in his life. He didn't want to go away and leave his friends and his home, but his father made it clear he had no choice. He was being sent away to learn discipline and independence; it was for his own good.
Tony had lain in his bedroom that night and tried not to cry. He was twelve and no longer a baby, but in the end he had lost the battle and spent most of his last night at home sobbing into his pillow. He felt abandoned and rejected; his father was choosing his new wife over him like he meant nothing. There hadn't even been a warning—the decision to tear his life apart had been made without his knowledge and he hadn't even seen it coming. At some point he had rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, just like he was tonight, feeling utterly lost and alone.
It was the same way he felt now; ultimately, he had allowed anger at his father to mask the hurt that had been too much to stand. He tried to feel the same way about Gibbs, to hate him, but for some reason the emotion wouldn't take over. Hating Gibbs was not easy for him to do. Maybe it was because he knew that despite everything, he was safe here in Gibbs' house, and the lead agent would fight the hounds of hell to protect him no matter how angry Tony became. Gibbs wouldn't just leave him like his father had. Tony realized that he wasn't scared of Gibbs even if the lead agent was a vampire, not like he felt about Gabriel.
Without warning a cold chill swept over him and he pulled the blanket up to his neck; a glance around the room confirmed no one was with him even though he had the familiar sensation of being watched. He closed his eyes, but heard voices that weren't there, that he couldn't possibly be hearing. Gabriel and Adrian were talking to one another, and he had a flash of the vampire's golden eyes staring at him like he was looking out of a two-way mirror. Tony scanned around again, but he was still in Gibbs' spare bedroom, alone and uncertain about how to explain what he was experiencing every time he closed his eyes. Goosebumps crawled over his frightened flesh. He thought about Kate, and something she'd said to him long ago, in a blue-tinted room.
"You're scared, aren't you?"
"No," Tony had lied.
He was scared then, and he was scared now. Sitting up on the edge of the bed he thought about going to find Gibbs, who was probably in the basement with a pile of wood and some bourbon. His pride wouldn't let him do it; he was still mad at Gibbs and he couldn't admit he was afraid like some little kid who had just dreamed about the boogeyman. It irked him that even at forty years old a part of him wanted to be taken care of, to be reassured that everything was going to be alright. He had been taking care of himself since that night when he turned twelve, and he wasn't going to stop now. So he curled back up on the bed, hugged a pillow to his chest, and stared into the gloom, trying to ignore the whispers and visions that had somehow infiltrated his mind and were there to keep him company for the rest of the night.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs peered into the nearly empty bottle of bourbon. He wasn't lying when he told Tony it took a lot of alcohol to have an effect on a vampire. Even now he was only experiencing a slight buzz.
Sitting the bottle down he picked up the planer and went back to work on the small rocking chair he was building; he had done several of those along with a wooden dollhouse and a fire engine that he was donating to the Ronald McDonald House.
He tried to lose himself in the repeated motions and not think about the fact Tony could barely look at him. There was no way around the fact he had fucked this up big time and he might not be able to fix it.
The opening and closing of his front door brought him to a stop. His muscles tensed while he focused on the smells and sounds around him; quickly he keyed in on familiar scents and a well-known rhythm of movement.
With a half-smile he relaxed and went back to work.
Feet thumped down the basement stairs. His intruder didn't say hello, but walked over and lifted up the empty bottle with a scowl.
"I hope to hell you've got a few more of these stashed somewhere."
"Nope. If you had called to say you were coming like normal visitors do I would've gone by the liquor store."
"Maybe you should've called and told me about the ass load of trouble you've got brewing around here instead of letting me hear it as idle gossip. Did you plan on just taking care of this by yourself?"
Gibbs didn't immediately answer. "If I could," he stubbornly replied.
His visitor leaned in dangerously close. "Boy, sometimes I don't think you learned a damn thing from me. Wild horses couldn't keep me out of this fight; Gabriel and I've got a lot of unfinished business ourselves. You're my blood, and I take care of my own."
The silver-haired vampire smiled at his Maker. Now that his guest was here, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at his presence.
"I know, Mike," he said gratefully. "I know."
"Now," the scraggly former NIS agent leaned his long legs against the workbench and crossed his ankles, squinting his wrinkled eyes at Gibbs appraisingly. "When are you going to turn DiNozzo and get it the hell over with?"
Gibbs placed the planer on the counter and leaned heavily on his hands, the muscles in his back tensing tightly. He let his head drop before answering the question without turning around.
"I'm not."