Author's Note: I'm still bummed at not being able to reply to reviews – for me that's part of the fun and I hope the site gets that fixed soon. I still love reading them though, and I hope you keep sending them! There's a lot of hurt comfort in this chapter, and our boys (well, at least one of them) start to figure things out.
Let me know what you think! Just a few more chapters to go!.
Thanks so much!
TLH
"Are you warm enough?" Ziva was hovering and that was making Tony nervous. She didn't usually hover, especially not over him, and it was one more reminder that his days were numbered. They were all tiptoeing around him so carefully that if he hadn't felt like shit, it would really be pissing him off. Instead it was making him act like a sick brat.
They had bundled him into a heavy sweater and loose pair of pants, finished off with warm socks and some kind of soft sheep skin boots. Ziva was holding a hat, scarf, and mittens, ready to force them onto him. "That stuff isn't necessary," he told her, looking up from beneath his eyelashes. He didn't think he needed to work very hard to be pathetic.
She clucked at him, clearly not buying it. "The last thing you need is to catch a cold, Tony. You have only now stopped coughing like you are going to expel a lung. Hold still and let me put these on you."
He grinned innocently. "In my fantasies….you were always taking my clothes off, not….putting more on." He leaned against the headboard of the bed to rest, tired out from bantering with her. "I'm warm, Ziva, really." He couldn't resist adding a coy, "Hot, even."
She chuckled and then wrapped the scarf around his neck anyway, taking care to keep it loose around his wounds. "I would say you look more like death warmed up, Tony."
"Over, Ziva. It's death warmed over. How many times do I have to tell you that?" Sometimes he wondered if she made those mistakes on purpose, just so he could correct her. He shook his head at her warningly. "No hat."
He could tell she was about to launch into a lecture about taking care of himself, which didn't interest him since there was little chance he'd be around long enough to sign up for AARP. He was saved by Gibbs opening the door. "You guys ready?"
"I cannot get Tony to put on his hat and gloves," Ziva tattled, and Tony stuck his tongue out at her.
DiNozzo couldn't get used to the indulgent smile Gibbs gave him - it didn't sit right on his bastard of a boss. That didn't mean he wasn't going to take advantage of it, though. "You aren't going to make me wear the hat are you? Show a sick man a little sympathy, Boss."
Gibbs stared down at him and Tony provided a feeble smile, stifling the cough that tried to sneak out of his throat and sputtering instead. Shaking his head, Gibbs took the hat from Ziva and tugged it onto Tony's head, making sure the flaps covered his ears. Tony groaned dejectedly at the betrayal.
The amused expression on his boss' face was replaced by a more serious look. "I'm gonna help you out of bed now." Tony hadn't been looking forward to this, and Gibbs knew it. Despite his joking, he was so weak he could barely sit up on his own. Every small movement hurt and the bruising on his skin was so sensitive the lightest touch was brutal. Getting dressed had been a particular torture, and he could feel the fabric rubbing his flesh like he was wearing burlap sacks instead of soft cotton. He was trying hard to hide his discomfort since everyone was treating him like he might shatter at any moment, and he didn't want an already uncomfortable situation to get even worse.
With Gibbs and Ziva watching him like a couple of overprotective grizzlies, pretending like he felt ok wasn't going to be easy, even for someone as skilled at deception as him. But he wanted to make it home before he got any worse, so he had to do what he had to do, which right now meant walking to the waiting car.
Gibbs put a hand behind his back and helped him scoot to the edge of the bed, where he stopped and placed a shaky hand on Gibbs' arm. He tried to stand, but his legs weren't strong enough and he fell back onto the mattress with a hiss. Gibbs steadied him; Tony winced when the lead agent's palm touched his multiple layers of bruises.
"Tony," Gibbs frowned, not pleased with his distress. "Let me carry you."
"No," Tony snapped quickly, unwilling to accept any more help than he had to in light of what he saw as all his recent humiliations - including Ducky's insistence at treating all his injuries, including the ones he was trying to pretend didn't exist. Over the past two days he had been at Caleb's he'd learned to blank out his mind whenever the physician came in with his small tube of antibiotic ointment and shooed everyone else away. At least they understood enough to leave him alone for several hours afterward; giving him time to compartmentalize all that had happened and put his masks back in place. It was a kindness he appreciated more than all the rest.
Being strong in front of others was important to him, and he didn't think he could give that up without at least some fight. "I still…..have a little…..dignity," he reminded Gibbs sharply, clinging to the edge of the mattress. The fact he kept running out of air to talk, making him sound whiny and petulant, was fucking annoying. As a matter of fact, everything about this situation was fucking annoying.
Except maybe the fact that I'm pretty much the center of Gibbs' world right now. An all expense paid trip to death's door rates that type of attention.
The vampire sighed, and Tony glared as much as he could to get his point across without saying anything else. He saw the blue eyes soften when Gibbs gave up and let him win. "Alright, let's try again."
This time, Tony refused to fall back down, even when he had to clutch Gibbs' arm tightly and shuffle his feet instead of taking his normal long strides. He had to give Gibbs credit for not losing patience when it took them three times as long as it should have to finally get to the living room. Instead of heading straight for the door leading outside, Gibbs paused.
"I've got a surprise for you."
Tony didn't mind that they had taken a break; the few feet he had traveled already felt like ten miles. "You do?" he asked, catching his breath.
"You didn't think you could sneak away without saying goodbye? Actually, knowing you anything is possible." The deep voice was somewhat weaker than Tony was used to, but the precise diction and slight accent were immediately recognizable.
"Yuri!" Tony turned too quickly toward the speaker and lost his balance; Gibbs reached out swiftly to grab his arms and prevent him from falling down. Tony smiled sheepishly. "Thanks," he whispered, embarrassed by his own frailty.
Gibbs helped DiNozzo move in the correct direction, where he was able to see the Albanian sitting on the sofa with his legs propped up and a fire roaring next to him. The large man swung his feet to the floor and maneuvered carefully to stand up. Carina and Caleb, both of whom were hovering nearby, rushed over to help him. Yuri shrugged them off with irritation, managing to get his balance before reluctantly taking the cane Caleb handed him.
It was clear to Tony that the older man had not fully recovered and was in a great deal of pain; his skin was pale and drawn into a pinched frown. When he stepped close to Tony though, a wide smile broke across his face. "They wanted me to stay at the clinic but I insisted on coming back before you left." He reached out his free hand and cradled Tony's cheek. "It is good to see you again."
Tony placed his hand over Yuri's. "I'm glad you did. I wanted to say thank you in person."
"There is no need, Anthony. I was honored to help you." He smiled again and his warm eyes crinkled at the corners. "We are quite a pair, don't you think?"
Looking him up and down, Tony tilted his head to the side. "Are you going to be alright?"
Yuri snorted. "I have been better; they operated to close the wounds and have given me more blood transfusions than I can count. It will be a few weeks before I get my strength back, but I will survive."
Tony wished his problems could have been solved that simply; when he mentioned a blood transfusion to Ducky, the doctor shot down the idea straight away, explaining that Tony's body would treat human blood like poison, killing him almost immediately. That didn't change the fact he was happy to find out that Yuri would recover.
"I'm glad – the last time I saw you, lying on the floor with all that blood around you – I was pretty sure you wouldn't make it."
Yuri gave Caleb a proud glance. "The doctor said if even thirty more minutes had passed I would not have recovered. I am lucky to have such a useful son-in-law."
Tony smiled easily. "I'm surprised Gibbs doesn't try to take him back and make him an NCIS agent." The younger man beamed from his place behind Yuri's shoulder. DiNozzo looked in Caleb's direction. "Make sure Yuri rests and doesn't try to do too much. Maybe you could get him to catch up on some episodes of The Adams Family?"
Yuri grinned ruefully. "Only you, Anthony." His expression sobered, and he stared solemnly into Tony's green eyes. "I understand that you have a choice to make. No one will think less of you no matter what you decide to do. None of us know how we would react if placed in the same circumstances."
Tony shifted his weight uncomfortably, acutely aware of Gibbs' presence only inches away; the vampire still had an arm around his shoulders to support him. "I know," Tony replied quietly. "Don't worry, Yuri, I'll be fine."
Significant glances passed between Yuri and Gibbs; obviously the topic of his fate had been part of a previous discussion. Tony had no idea what Yuri's opinion would be about turning him into a vampire; it wasn't like the man had a good history with the creatures. The lead agent's face stayed absolutely neutral, revealing nothing. Yuri heaved a massive sigh.
Tony gave him a wan grin. "Really, Yuri, I've got it under control."
"Do not play your games with me, Anthony," his friend admonished gently. "I know you well enough now to spot a lie. All I ask is that whatever you choose, it is because you want it, and for no other reason. Can you promise me that?"
The younger man stayed perfectly still, ignoring Gibbs who stood stiffly beside him. "I promise," he whispered, hoping Yuri would just let it go. He didn't have the stamina to endure a drawn-out fight. If Yuri kept pushing, Tony knew it was likely he would cave and spill everything; including the fact his main reason for refusing to be turned was to not be a burden to Gibbs.
The Albanian crooked an eyebrow fondly; impulsively he reached out and embraced Tony in an engulfing hug, before pulling back and placing a kiss on each of his cheeks. "I will see you again, Anthony."
"Yeah, Lurch, I'll see you soon." Tony sagged a little against Gibbs, suddenly feeling very, very tired. The front he was trying to maintain for everyone was exhausting and he didn't think he could keep it up much longer.
Gibbs cleared his throat when he noticed Tony's energy deflate. "We need to be going."
Yuri nodded his goodbye and watched them move slowly to the door, Tony gripping Gibbs' arm tightly and the vampire carefully supporting his weight. Yuri had spent a large portion of his life hating vampires, but for once, he wondered if a new one might not be such a bad idea.
NCISNCISNCIS
When the bitter cold greeted them, Tony found he was glad for the hat. By the time they made it to the car, Gibbs had wrapped an arm around his waist and was practically holding him up.
Mike and McGee took one vehicle, while Gibbs, Ducky, Tony, and Ziva took another. It was one time Tony wasn't worried about who got shotgun or had to ride on the hump.
The trip to the airport turned into an unfocused blur. The short walk exhausted him completely, and the ever present pain spiked again. He laid his head in Ziva's lap and let Gibbs cover him with a blanket, dozing until the spasms returned; the small caravan was forced to pull over to the side of the road so Ducky could get him to drink more of that disgusting potion. The drink, along with riding in the back of the car, combined to make him nauseous, leading him to finally seek Ziva's attention. "I need….I need to stop again," he hoarsely said, glancing up at her urgently.
The words barely left Tony's mouth before Gibbs was parked and out of the car, helping him climb out and holding his shoulders while he heaved. "S….sorry, Boss," Tony apologized between attacks. "You didn't sign up….for this."
Gibbs' fingers twitched, and Tony figured in any other time and place he would have received a sound headslap about now. Instead Gibbs grunted, "Don't be stupid, DiNozzo. I'm here because I want to be, now stop second-guessing my decisions. We clear?"
"C…crystal," Tony replied automatically.
"Good." Gibbs helped him straighten up. "You think you're done?"
Tony considered the state of his queasy stomach. "Yeah….think so."
The lead agent handed him a bottle of water to rinse his mouth and then helped him back to the car; unfortunately, the nausea continued and there were several more stops for him to throw up. Gibbs drove much slower than his normal get there or die trying speed, and as a result the journey took most of the day. When they finally arrived Tony was in a weary stupor, completely miserable and thoroughly uncomfortable, caught somewhere between awake and asleep.
"Time to get out," Gibbs said, leaning into the backseat to ruffle Tony's hair.
"Unnnhhh," Tony replied, not exactly thrilled about the prospect. Ziva shrugged at Gibbs helplessly when the head in her lap barely moved.
"We're here, DiNozzo." Gibbs gently shook Tony's shoulder, trying again to rouse him, and the younger agent managed to gaze blearily at his boss, finally comprehending that he needed to get out of the vehicle.
"I can….I can do this," he stuttered stubbornly, determined to walk to the waiting airplane on his own two feet.
They helped him out of the car, and Tony took a few unsteady steps before crumpling to the tarmac. Gibbs didn't waste any time with discussion, lifting him up and carrying him the rest of the way to the plane and up the stairs, situating him into a seat before Tony could even form a coherent protest. Tony watched silently while Gibbs buckled his seat belt and leaned his chair back before draping another fuzzy blanket over him.
"Thanks, Boss," he said quietly, his green eyes open at half-mast and filled with subdued insecurity. Gibbs had never struck him as the nurse-maid type and it unnerved Tony to be the recipient of his constant assistance. It occurred to him just what a great father Gibbs must have been; the former Marine didn't make a fuss about what needed to be done, he simply took care of Tony's needs in a matter-of-fact way that revealed more concern than any of the showy displays of affection that had been the hallmark of his own parent's child-rearing style. "I'm an awful lot of trouble."
"No trouble Tony. Now get some rest." Gibbs narrowed his eyes when Tony continued to stare ahead. "Bad dreams?"
Tony let his head fall back and his forehead wrinkled. "No…I just….I don't know…" How could he explain that every minute he slept was one less minute he had to live? The burden of his own mortality was threatening to crush him. It was one thing to know that you might die in the line of duty, quite another to put a date and time on the upcoming event.
Gibbs flopped down in the seat beside him. "Remember the first time we rode in this plane?"
Tony managed a melancholy smile. "Guantanamo. That damn lizard. Kate. Paula." The smile faded. "It was a long time ago." Both of the women had been so full of life back then, it was hard to believe they were gone. He grinned at the image of Kate's face when he'd walked in on her in the shower; that had been worth a small fortune. It was hard to think about Kate, he missed her so much. She had died the way he always thought he would, in a heroic blaze of glory. It shouldn't have happened to her; she should have gone on to be a wife, a mother, and probably Director of the whole damn agency. Then of course there was Paula; his memories of her took a totally different track. She had been a spitfire both at work and at play; it was a shame they had never been able to move beyond casual sex into a more adult relationship. Maybe if she had lived, if they had been given more time, it would have turned out differently.
A twinge ran up his spine, but it had nothing to do with his memories.
He closed his eyes and crinkled up his face, recognizing the influx of pain. He breathed through his nose as his muscles bunched together for the umpteenth time. His fingers clenched against the armrests.
"God, boss, why won't it stop?" The statement was made before he could stop it, his defenses at an all time low.
Gibbs was out of his seat, kneeling beside him. "Tell me how to help."
Tony tried not to plead, but the blue eyes were so compassionate and they seemed to be hurting with him. "I….I don't know…."
Ducky showed up with more of that disgusting drink, but Tony couldn't stomach any more of it after vomiting so much earlier. "No, Ducky, no. Don't make me drink anymore of that." He pushed the cup away before his entire body tensed up tightly and he couldn't say anything else, his jaw clamped together so forcefully his teeth clattered and he had to concentrate not to bite his own tongue.
"Alright, Tony, alright," Gibbs answered, sitting back down and pulling Tony's head against his shoulder, letting his hand rest on the back of Tony's neck. "Just hang on."
What if I can't? Tony closed his eyes and struggled to find a solution. He could just ask Gibbs to do it, to turn him; he was sure the vampire would grant his request. He didn't want to die, and he certainly didn't want to spend his last days like this. Based on the looks Ducky was giving him, it was only going to get worse and he was at his limit already.
But Gibbs didn't want to change anyone, and Tony couldn't put that kind of pressure on him. He'd already done too much, and Tony could never repay him as it was. He knew Gibbs well enough to understand his overriding need for taking care of the team, and if Tony said he wanted to be a vampire Gibbs would see it as his obligation to do it. Most of Tony's life he'd felt like an obligation to others, starting with his own damn father, and he couldn't spend eternity feeling like that.
No, he'd just have to suck it up and endure whatever the next week had in store for him. His body contracted again and he went rigid; he could hear Gibbs murmuring in his ear and someone else—Ziva?—was holding his hand, but shit, damn, fuck, it hurt so much, he hoped that he could make it home.
NCISNCISNCIS
Abby pushed the curtains aside and watched cars drive down the street in front of Gibbs' house. None of them slowed to pull in the driveway, and she growled in frustration. Letting the curtain fall back into place she glanced at the clock, which reminded her only a few minutes had passed since the last time she looked.
The plane had landed over an hour ago, and it was plenty of time for them to get here. Gibbs had spoken to her briefly on the phone, his tone severe and warning that Tony wasn't in good shape and she needed to be prepared. She had sworn to him that she would be fine; all that mattered was getting to see Tony for herself.
Everything at the house was as ready as she could make it; the fridge was stocked, there were plenty of towels folded and put away, and the sheets in the spare bedroom were fresh and clean. There was nothing else she could do but wait. Jimmy Palmer had been the one to go to the airport to pick them up, since he insisted on doing something useful.
The poor kid had been wrestling with a mountain of guilt since Tony was taken, blaming himself for the entire debacle. Abby tried to explain to him that it was Tony's choice to trade places with him, and the senior field agent wouldn't have it any other way. It was typical Tony; throw himself in the line of fire and let everyone else get away safely. She knew Tony saw that as his role on the team, his major contribution. When the going got tough, he could take the hard blows so the rest of them didn't have to. What she could never get Tony to understand was that no one wanted to watch him bear the brunt of things. He was more than a punching bag, and the team was aware of that. At least she was, and Gibbs, too. McGee and Ziva had their moments when they needed to be reminded, but she had no doubt they realized Tony's true value and worth. It infuriated her that he didn't believe it himself.
She wondered what exactly had happened to Tony since Gibbs hadn't been willing to go into any details. All she knew was that Gabriel and Adrian were dead, and Tony was seriously injured. The worry was about to drive her insane. She paced and twirled a pigtail, when the sound of an engine caught her attention and had her running for the door.
"Oh, Tony," she whispered, when she saw Gibbs leaning into the backseat and lifting her friend out like a limp rag doll. She could tell his eyes were closed and he wasn't trying to move while Gibbs held him firmly and strode toward the house. She stepped aside and let them enter, Ducky trailing behind as Gibbs quickly mounted the stairs and carried his burden to the spare bedroom.
Abby followed after them, sickened by the physical evidence of what Tony had been through. She'd seen corpses in autopsy that looked better. While Gibbs arranged Tony on the bed, Abby cataloged the injuries she could see; the yellow-blue bruises and charred ring on his neck, alongside the visible bites that were everywhere. Worse was the inches long gash on his face, marring his otherwise handsome features. He'll be scarred for life, Abby thought, and then mentally smacked herself. Tony was beautiful from the inside out, and something as superficial as a scar shouldn't matter. It was a completely shallow thought on her part, and she was ashamed to have had it.
There was no sign of his perpetual tan, the light brown skin replaced by a ghostly pallor. His cheeks were red and flushed, and now that he was on the bed he fidgeted relentlessly, unable to lie still.
"Abby. Abigail!" She finally jumped at the sound of her name.
Ducky smiled sadly. "Tony has developed a fever while on our way here. Could you bring me a bowl of ice water and some towels? Jethro and I are going to change his clothes and try to cool him down."
Abby nodded and fled the room, burying her face in her hands, not stopping until she ran blindly into Mike Franks' broad chest. He wrapped his arms around her and let her sob until she was choking on her tears.
"He's dying, isn't he?" she asked softly, head buried in his shirt.
The vampire didn't immediately reply. "He's trying to," the grizzled voice ultimately answered. "What do you say me and you put a stop to that?"
Lifting her mascara covered face; Abby put a hand on his scruffy cheek and smiled.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs sat on his stool in the basement, surrounded by the things that usually helped him relax-the sawdust, the wood, his tools, a glass of bourbon. None of it was doing anything to release the pent-up anxiety gnawing at his insides.
He fingered the little broken boat that he'd made for Tony, trying to decide if it could be fixed. The mast was gone, and there was a split in the middle that might go back together with some wood glue, but it would be a long-shot.
Sitting the damaged boat down, he picked up another small block of wood and a knife. He'd make another one. It wouldn't take long and would be stronger than the first. Decision made, he focused on whittling the chunk of cedar into a recognizable shape, letting his mind drift away from the stresses of the last few weeks.
An hour later, he turned his piece of handiwork over and gave it an appraising smile. It looked pretty good. Tony should be waking up soon, and he'd give it to him then. Most people wouldn't think DiNozzo would appreciate something like a hand-whittled boat, but Gibbs knew it would mean a lot to the young man.
The days since they had been back in the states had been difficult, to say the least. Gibbs had spent most of his time at Tony's bedside, trying to keep his senior field agent calm and comfortable, which hadn't always been easy, considering Tony had been feverish and agitated. The entire team took turns staying, too, but Tony rested better when Gibbs was around.
They hadn't talked much, Tony honestly feeling too bad most of the time to keep up with any kind of conversation. Each day they'd coaxed him into drinking a little water and eating a few bites of crackers or toast, but it wasn't much. Gibbs had stoically witnessed his once healthy agent deteriorate more and more. On several occasions when it had been really rough he had considered ordering Tony to drink his blood and just get it over with, but he'd always stopped short, not willing to take away Tony's ability to decide his own fate.
Shannon and Kelly's deaths had been so abrupt and without warning, it had blindsided him and left him reeling. This was a different kind of torment, watching someone he would trade his own life for waste away in front of his eyes when he had the ability to change that and prevent him from dying. He was strong and had seen more in his lifetime than anyone could imagine, but he didn't know if he could withstand this, especially considering there was no hope for Tony to get better without making him into something he despised.
A shadow appeared on the staircase, and Gibbs sensed Abby's presence. He'd wondered how long it would be until she made her opinion known. He supposed it was time to get her feelings out in the open.
The pretty Goth slipped quietly down the steps, stopping several from the bottom where she sat down. It was the same step Tony always sat on when he came to the basement with something on his mind, and Gibbs found it both ironic and appropriate Abby chose the same spot.
He wiped the wood shavings from his hands and walked over to sit on the bottom step near her. "What's up, Abs?" The red rings around her eyes were a dead giveaway she'd been crying again.
"I need to know what you plan to do, Bossman," she said with a sniffle. "Are you going to let this happen, Gibbs? How can you let Tony die?"
"It's not up to me, Abby. Tony made his choice already and I have to accept that - so do you." He said the words, but couldn't look at Abby when he told her. The fact he had his own lingering doubts made him feel like a hypocrite.
"But Gibbs, it doesn't make any sense," she persisted. "Tony's already like your son; this would just make it official. He loves you, and you love him, you're connected and everything. How can you stand to see him….." she balled her fists and forced herself not to cry. "How can you stand to see him go through this?"
Gibbs stared at the floor. "Do you think I want him to die? That's the last thing I want, Abby. But it's not my wishes that are important, or yours - his are the only ones that matter. I don't like it anymore than you do, but I'm trying like hell to respect his needs." He was as close to breaking as he'd been since this started, and no matter how much he cared about Abby, he couldn't let her see him lose it.
"Maybe you should talk to him Gibbs, tell him how you feel. You know how Tony is, he's probably convinced himself you don't want him as a Son anyway, and if you explain that you really think that would be great, maybe he'll change his mind. Please, Gibbs, please talk to him before it's too late." Her eyes were wide and luminous, and she had wrapped her arms around her own chest tightly, rocking a little as she made her argument.
Gibbs wanted to reassure Abby and make her feel better; he understood how much she loved Tony. Unfortunately, this was beyond the usual Caf-Pow and tug on her pigtails to fix things.
Listening to her plea, it occurred to him that maybe Tony, inscrutable, enigmatic, unfathomable Tony, might be pulling one over on him. It wouldn't be the first time. The fact Tony had a long-standing fear of vampires was undeniable, but was that the real reason behind his choice to not be turned? Was it possible there was something else going on here? Tony hadn't provided much explanation about his decision, but Gibbs had chalked that up to his agent being so sick he didn't feel like talking.
Had his own lack of ability to share his feelings led to a fatal miscommunication between them? Shit, you would think he would've learned something from all those failed marriages. If Abby hadn't been staring at him he might have smacked his own head.
He gave the scientist a small smile and stroked her cheek. "Have I told you lately what a genius you are?"
Abby grinned back. "Not in the past few days. You are overdue."
Gibbs leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Let's go see if Tony's awake."
Taking her hand they walked back up the stairs together. When they reached the landing, Gibbs' phone rang. He fished it from his pocket and grimaced at the display. "What?" he answered tersely.
"You've been back for days, Gibbs. Were you planning on ever returning to work?"
"There've been some complications, Leon – DiNozzo got hurt. I should have called you." It was as close he was going to come to an apology, even to the Director of NCIS.
"I've given you a lot of leeway on this, Gibbs, but I need a report on your activities and to discuss putting you back on rotation. The SecNav is on his way in; he'll be here in an hour. You need to come to the office for a SitRep."
Gibbs gritted his teeth. "I don't know if I can do that. I told you…we have some complications."
He could hear Vance's sharp intake of breath. "This isn't optional, Gibbs. You get to the Navy Yard in sixty minutes or you and your entire team won't need to come back at all." There was a click followed by silence.
"Dammit."
Abby was watching him fearfully.
"Are we fired?" she asked, wringing her hands.
"Nah. Vance can't get rid of his best team. I am going to have to go in, though." He glanced up the stairs, obviously torn about leaving Tony. Now that he realized there might be an opening he had missed, there wasn't any time to waste. If Tony got much weaker he probably wouldn't survive being turned even if he did change his mind.
"I'll keep an eye on him, Gibbs. Go take care of Vance and you can talk to Tony when you get back." She turned him toward the door and gave him a little shove.
He grabbed his keys and jacket, deciding to make this the shortest trip to the office ever. It wouldn't help DiNozzo's health if he ever found out the entire team lost their jobs because Gibbs wouldn't leave him. "I'll be right back, Abs."
"I'll hold down the fort!" she called after him, content that he was finally going to try and set Tony straight. They had some hope after all.
NCISNCISNCIS
Ziva and Abby were making something to eat, Mike was outside smoking, and Ducky was on the phone to Palmer who had been filling in for the ME in autopsy. That left McGee sitting in the lumpy chair in Gibbs' spare bedroom taking his turn watching over Tony. He was trying to read a book, but every small shuffle and slight gasp had him glancing up to make sure nothing was wrong with his friend.
McGee wondered how he would have reacted if he had been the one Adrian had taken – not well, he guessed. It was hard to believe that Tony had actually been assaulted, raped, along with everything else they did to him. It made him sick to think about how his partner had been forced to submit to whatever Gabriel wanted.
He completely lost his ability to concentrate when Tony started whimpering in his sleep; it was such an un-DiNozzo like sound that McGee couldn't stand to hear it. He stood and went to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and place it on Tony's burning forehead. The fever the field agent had developed on the way back from Albania refused to let up, and it was a never-ending struggle to keep it low enough to prevent any significant damage.
"Come on, Tony. I'm starting to miss the smart-ass DiNozzo. You gotta fight this."
Tony just whimpered more loudly and tossed his head, unable to wake up.
Hot, sticky breath warmed his skin before a rough tongue slicked over it. "You smell so good," the creature whispered. "I bet you taste even better."
Tony tried to move but hands pinned him to the floor. Someone slapped him across the face. "Open your eyes, dammit, and look at me when I bite you."
The voice was familiar, and he couldn't bear to see who was tormenting him. He was slapped again, harder, and he opened his eyes to see bright silver-blue staring down at him. Gibbs laughed, his fangs gleaming in the light.
"So damn pathetic. How could you expect me to take on a weak little pup like you for the rest of my life? The only thing you're good for is to let me drink from you."
He heard more laughter and looked around to find Ducky and Mike holding his arms. Their fangs were also extended, and their faces twisted in grotesque smiles around their pointed teeth.
Gibbs licked his lips. "Time for a snack, Tony." He bent down and bit into the sensitive flesh at the base of his throat, right below his Adam's apple. Tony screamed and kicked, trying to get away, but he was trapped. He felt Ducky and Mike bite into his wrists and he screamed again, unable to stop. He screamed and screamed until his voice was raw and he was begging for someone to help him…
"Tony!"
His eyes flew open at the sound of his name and he was looking at McGee, whose face was drawn into pinched lines of worry.
Tony pushed himself up, ignoring the pain it caused, and recognized Gibbs' spare bedroom. That should have been comforting, but all he felt was extreme panic. They had tricked him, all they really wanted was his blood, none of them cared about him after all. Once his defenses were down they would take turns drinking from him just like Gabriel had planned to do. He'd been a fool to believe them.
He pushed McGee back with adrenaline fueled strength, struggling out from under the blankets and attempting to stand.
"What are you doing?" McGee asked, trying to grab his arm and wrestle him back to the bed. "You shouldn't be up, Tony."
Fever bright green eyes stared from Tony's flushed face. "We have to get away, Tim. We can't stay here, they're all vampires. You know that right? They'll try to kill us while we sleep, or make us their blood-slaves. We can't let that happen, Tim. We have to get away."
Tony was rambling and staring around wildly, his hair sticking up in disheveled points; he was only wearing boxers and one of Gibbs' old NIS t-shirts that hung loosely off his skinny shoulders.
"Do you have your gun? I don't know where mine is, they probably took it. We need a weapon." He turned in a small circle, surveying the room, running his hands repeatedly through his hair. "Ok, I can handle this. My pants, I have my knife in the belt buckle. Help me find my pants, Tim. Ok? I won't….I won't let them do to you what they've done to me." Tony closed his eyes and swayed, clutching at McGee to maintain his balance. "I won't let them hurt you, probie, I promise."
McGee swallowed harshly. "Come on, Tony," he said gently, like he was calming an abused animal. "Lay back down, I'm alright, no one's hurting me."
Tony's eyes flashed back open. "My knife, Tim, I have to find my knife." He stumbled toward the closet but fell down with a harsh thump before he reached it. McGee rushed to his side and tried to pull him up, but instead Tony crawled to the wall and leaned against it, his breath coming in hard, ragged gasps.
"They were biting me, Tim. Ducky, Mike, even Gibbs. I couldn't get away." His eyes were haunted and glassy. "They could come back any minute for both of us."
Right on cue, Ducky opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. "Is everything alright? I heard a noise." He saw Tony in the floor and rushed forward. "Anthony! What are you doing?"
"No!" Tony shrieked and grasped McGee's arm. "Don't let him touch me! It's all a lie, a trick, they just want my blood, that's all they want." He was shaking, sweating, and approaching hysteria. Ducky stopped immediately, and Tim shook his head, indicating the doctor shouldn't come any closer.
"Tony," McGee spoke quietly, sitting down next to his partner on the floor. "You were dreaming. Ducky won't hurt you." Tim could feel the heat radiating off Tony's body and wondered just how high his temperature had gone; sweat beaded on his face, neck, and arms. "You have a fever and I think it's making you confused."
Tony blinked dumbly, aware that he felt like he was on fire. He glanced at his skin to see of it was melting, relieved to find that, although pink, he was currently in one solid piece. With trembling fingers he reached out and touched the fading bite mark on McGee's neck. "He bit you, too."
"Yeah, Tony, he bit me, too. But it was Adrian, and he's dead. No one here is going to do anything you don't want them to."
"I was dreaming?" he repeated, half-dazed and slumping heavily against McGee. "I'm so tired, Timmy."
McGee couldn't help reaching out and rubbing Tony's head like he'd seen Gibbs do, knowing it seemed to help Tony settle down. "You need to get back in bed and let Ducky have a look at you."
Tony leveled his fuzzy gaze on him. "Sorry, Tim."
"Huh? What are you sorry for?"
Tony laughed, and Tim was struck how he hadn't heard that sound in so long. Tony was always laughing, and he missed it.
"Treated you like an ass, probie. Tore up your stuff, made fun of you, shouldn't have done it."
McGee scowled. "Don't apologize, Tony. It's…"
"….a sign of weakness, I know." Tony finished for him. "Sorry anyway."
"I've given you my fair share of crap, DiNozzo, so don't go all martyr on me," Tim pointed out. "It's…..what brothers do."
Tony's lips quirked up at that, and he opened his mouth to answer, but instead of words made a frightened groan and clutched at his stomach, hunching into a ball.
"Oh, fuck…" he whispered. "Oh, oh, oh," he repeated, rocking himself frantically.
Ducky crossed the room instantly. "Tony, can you hear me?"
"Make it stop, oh please, make it stop." McGee had never heard Tony beg for anything, and the words were terrifying. DiNozzo's eyes were still open, but there didn't seem to be any recognition in them for anything other than pain.
Tony felt like his stomach was being ripped apart, it was cramping so hard. He wrapped his arms around himself and mewled, unable to control the onslaught of agonizing sensations.
Ducky's eyes grew wide, and he stood. "Stay with him." He hurried from the room.
"Do something," Tony pleaded, gasping harder. "Oh, shit, do something." He flinched and grasped his abdomen harder, before folding in on himself with an alarming moan.
McGee didn't know what to do, so he carefully wrapped his arms around Tony's trembling body and snugged him halfway onto his lap.
"Hold on, Tony, Ducky's going to be right back. He'll take care of it." Tony let out an agonized cry and tried to curl up tighter. There were tears running down his cheeks; McGee realized he was crying, too, and considered if there was some rule they were breaking by babbling like babies. When Tony's breath hitched, McGee decided he didn't care.
Ducky returned with Mike Franks; Abby and Ziva stood nervously in the doorway.
"Anthony, I'm going to give you something for the pain," Ducky explained, readying a hypodermic needle. "Do you understand?"
Tony kept his eyes screwed shut. "It hurts so fucking bad, Duck. Just do…do anything, just make it stop." His voice quivered as another cramp squeezed his guts, and he briefly wondered if this was what it felt like when the monster from Alien climbed out of someone's insides. "I can't take this anymore."
"Alright, lad, let me have your arm." He peeled a limb away from Tony's stomach, letting Franks hold the trembling appendage. He quickly swabbed with an alcohol wipe and plunged the needle in, before laying a hand on Tony's forehead to test his temperature. McGee watched as the doctor shot a plaintive look at Mike, who thinned his lips and sighed.
"That was a high dose of morphine; it should help fairly quickly my boy." Tony's face had already gone slack and his pupil's were dilated the size of saucers.
"Back to bed with you," the ME ordered, and between the three of them they returned their completely pliant patient to his spot under the sheets.
Tony's body had relaxed, but he continued to shake and groan. He panted as he tried to look around at them.
"Ducky?" There was barely enough sound to qualify as a whisper.
"I'm right here, Anthony." The physician took his hand and patted it.
"Wh…where'd Gibbs go?"
"He had to go into the office, but he's on his way back quickly. I'm sure he'll want to see you as soon as he gets here."
Tears were sliding out from under Tony's lashes and across his reddened cheeks. "Still….hurts. Won't….stop."
The normally unflappable ME closed his eyes and held Tony's hand in both of his; he looked ready to break himself. "Oh, my child I wish I could do something more."
Franks rumbled something unintelligible and strode to the bed, sitting down.
"DiNozzo," he growled, "look at me."
Tony struggled to obey. Mike's deep eyes sparkled, and he stared unblinkingly at Tony. The Viking whispered to the younger man, laying a large hand on his stomach, murmuring to him repeatedly. They watched as Tony's frightened eyes softened, the vampire mesmerizing him into accepting what he was told.
Finally, Tony sighed. "Alright, Mike," he said, his green eyes closing and not reopening.
"This is the second time I've done that today, so it won't last long," Mike told them. "Someone get Gibbs back here. We don't have much time."
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs finished his report to Vance and the SecNav, providing as many details as possible without revealing that nearly everyone involved was a vampire. The SecNav was satisfied that Gabriel was dead, and Vance had calmed down appreciably seeing the SecNav happy.
They reached an impasse when Vance demanded to know what had happened to Tony and Gibbs refused to elaborate. He simply stayed with the story that Tony had been injured and Ducky was taking care of him. The SecNav was so grateful for all they had done to avenge the death of his son, he shot Vance a glare that shut him up and gave the entire team the rest of the week off. Gibbs took the opportunity to shake hands and excuse himself before Vance could try and twist the situation to his advantage and get more information out of the taciturn lead agent. The quizzical expression on the Director's face bothered him, and he hoped this case hadn't opened up questions he didn't need Vance asking. One thing they didn't want was the man turning his bulldog tenacity onto them; so far it hadn't been too difficult keeping their secret safe, but it could only hold up to so much scrutiny. That problem would have to wait for later though, since there were far more pressing issues to deal with, like his own blind stupidity regarding Tony not wanting to be turned.
He was in the elevator when it hit him. His stomach twisted in a knot and he almost fell to the floor from the agony.
When the doors opened he stumbled for the car, cursing as his phone began to ring; pulling it from his pocket he saw Abby's name displayed on the id screen. He didn't bother stopping to answer, since he already knew what the call was about, and he flung the piece of plastic against the far door of the vehicle after he threw himself into the driver's seat.
He had waited too long to figure it all out; Tony was dying and it might be too late for him to do anything about it.
As he swerved into traffic, cutting off other cars and leaving behind him a wake of angry drivers and honking horns, he screamed in his mind for Tony to wait for him – to tolerate the white hot pain until he got there. When abruptly the connection shut down, Gibbs banged on the steering wheel and cursed. He had screwed up, taking Tony's words at face value without digging deeper, and he didn't know if he could endure an eternity of living with that mistake.
.