Author's Note: So much I want to say! My humble thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially those who felt compelled to refute the somewhat unkind statement from one particular individual who is well-known for doing such things. The fact many of you said what I didn't have the opportunity to say meant a great deal to me.
I decided to go ahead and post tonight because I have a busy day at work tomorrow and I'm going to try and finish this up on Tuesday along with the show. When you get to the end of the chapter, just remember – there is an epilogue!
I'm still hoping to go to the NCIS convention this summer, and I hope many of you are, too. See xenascully and sparkiebunny for details. As always, get in touch and let me know what you think about this chapter. I look forward to hearing from you!
Thanks!
TLH
Gibbs kicked the tire iron out of his way and leaned close to the man who had been holding it, carefully avoiding his bloody nose and lips – he wrapped a gloved hand in the shock of dark hair and lifted his head. The man's eyes widened slowly, staring into Gibbs' unflinching blue gaze.
"Next time you see something suspicious in a dark alley, you should probably call the police," Gibbs advised sagely.
The man nodded mutely, seeming to have lost the power of speech. His terrified eyes flicked over at his two friends, who were unmoving on the sidewalk where this deceptively strong silver-haired man had left them - bruised, battered, and disarmed. He whimpered, not sure what had been done to them beyond the obvious beatings they had all taken, when this person had leaned over their bodies, just like was being done to him now.
"Please," he begged pathetically. "Please don't kill me. We were just trying to help our friend."
Gibbs sighed and narrowed his eyes, letting their brightness increase and his gaze deepen as he focused on mesmerizing the man like he had already done to the others. In all his years he'd never figured out how this actually worked, but it did and he was more than happy to use it to his advantage when necessary. "You fought with a young man in a ski mask who was trying to rob your friend. You didn't get a clear look at him before he knocked you out and ran away. Do you understand?"
The man's eyes didn't even blink as he accepted the words Gibbs was telling him. "A young man in a mask. I understand," he repeated, his voice taking on a dreamy, hypnotic quality.
"Good," Gibbs said. "Now go to sleep." The man's eyes closed and he slumped to the pavement. Gibbs lowered him the rest of the way down.
With one last glance to determine that he hadn't overlooked anything incriminating, Gibbs turned and raced down the alley, leaping over the fence at the end without breaking stride. He'd wasted too much time already, time that Tony didn't have to spare.
NCISNCISNCIS
Abby sat next to Tony on the bed, silent tears flowing freely down her face. Tony lay curled up in a fetal position, his long legs pulled tightly toward his chest, the small boat wrapped in one hand. He wasn't moaning, or rambling, or moving, or asking where Gibbs was. He was silent, still, and unresponsive.
Ducky gently pulled an arm out from under the blanket and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around it. He inflated the bulb and watched the gauge. "Is there any improvement?" Ziva asked, hovering over his shoulder, trying to get a peak at what he was seeing.
The doctor released the Velcro and removed the cuff, before holding Tony's wrist and checking his watch. When he finished, he tucked Tony's limp appendage back under the blanket, lightly patting his arm in the process. "Well?" Ziva repeated. Abby glued her swollen eyes to Ducky and waited on his answer.
The ME placed a gentle hand on Ziva's shoulder and smiled kindly at Abby. "I am sorry." He bit his upper lip and forced himself to speak again, wishing somehow he could alter the news he was forced to deliver. "Even if Jethro makes it back in time Anthony is too weak now to undergo the change. The best we can do is stay with him in case he wakes again. Even that, I'm afraid, is unlikely. His poor body has just endured too much."
Abby made a choking sound in her throat and clutched Tony's hand, holding it to her cheek. Ziva looked stricken; her mouth parted as if to protest his statement, but could find nothing to say. McGee edged closer to the bed, staring at Tony, then at Ducky, and back again.
"Are you sure?" Tim whispered disbelievingly. Despite everything, he had counted on the fact that Tony always managed to find a way out of every situation – it was impossible to accept that his partner had actually used up all his lives and this was the end.
Ducky only nodded, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his eyes beneath his glasses. Palmer shook his head forcefully.
"No," he stated flatly. "No." This time he spoke louder, moving into Ducky's face. "You're wrong, Dr. Mallard. Tony will be fine, he's always fine." The young autopsy assistant nodded his head affirmatively, as if to convince himself and everyone else he was right. "You'll see; you'll see he'll be ok. Gibbs didn't give him permission to die, anyway, and Tony wouldn't do anything without Gibbs' permission."
"Mr. Palmer, I understand how you're feeling….."
"No, you don't!" Jimmy yelled. "It can't turn out like this, Dr. Mallard. He traded himself for me, and now you say he's going to die for doing it! It isn't fair!"
Ducky maintained his cool exterior despite Jimmy's explosion. "We all make choices, Mr. Palmer, and Anthony made the one he thought right; he already explained that to you. The best way to help Anthony now is to respect his decision and remember how much he cared about you – about all of us."
"Yeah, but….." The ME handed Jimmy his handkerchief and hugged the boy when he gave up on saying anything coherent and started crying. Ducky patted his back comfortingly.
A loud crash startled them all into jumping. Mike thumped his hand onto the dresser, knocking the few pictures and Marine Corps knickknacks to the floor. He kept his head lowered and refused to meet their eyes, rage all but simmering off the vampire. "I should've forced that moron to drink from me while he still could, at least then he might have stood a chance."
"Mike, you know that would have never worked," the doctor reminded him, guiding Palmer over to sit in the chair. "Forced turnings are generally never effective, and I seriously doubt you would have wanted to add to the boy's suffering when it ended poorly."
"Well look where doing nothing has gotten us!" he growled angrily, sweeping his hand in the direction of Tony's lifeless form on the bed, before running a hand through his mass of grey hair. "Fuck."
The unexpected slamming of the front door was followed by pounding footsteps on the stairs, the bedroom door flying open and Gibbs standing there breathing a little harshly, his sharp eyes quickly taking in the scene.
"Get out," he said quietly, but no one moved. "Get out!" he repeated more forcefully.
Ducky took that as his cue to shuffle the team out the door. Abby tried to protest, but the fierceness in Gibbs' eyes caused her to rethink her position. Instead she bestowed a sisterly kiss on Tony's forehead and scurried after the rest of the team.
Mike and Ducky left last; the doctor pausing nervously. "Jethro, I really don't think you understand how weak Tony has become…."
"Don't say it." Gibbs' voice was a solid wall of denial, and brought Ducky to a halt immediately. "Well, I….." Mike took the ME's arm and led him out into the hallway before he could finish, the door shutting behind them with a firm click.
Ziva, McGee, Palmer, and Abby waited anxiously in the stairwell. "You all get downstairs," Mike groused. "There's nothing you can do up here." Abby frowned in frustration, but Ziva grabbed her hand before she could launch into an argument that was sure to revolve around her Tony. The Israeli pulled the Goth unwillingly toward the living room, followed by McGee and Palmer.
Ducky waited until they were gone before speaking. "I should be in there." He glared at the closed door. "You know as well as I do this is not something to be undertaken alone. Does Jethro even comprehend the first thing about what he's doing?"
Franks leaned against the wall. "Give him some time; we'll go back in and check on them in a few minutes."
Ducky gave up and propped himself against the opposite wall, arms folded and tense, showing no sign of going any further than a few feet away from the event taking place on the other side of the door.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs knew he should probably get Ducky since he wasn't completely sure how to proceed. Then again, how hard could it be? If he needed help, he figured the doctor was standing right outside in the hall anyway.
For some reason he couldn't explain, he felt the urge to keep what was about to happen private, between just him and Tony, without anyone else looking on. This was as personal and intimate as anything he'd ever done in his life, and it certainly wasn't open to an audience, even if the others were his friends and family. For Tony, it was a moment of rebirth, signifying the end of one life and the start of another. For him, it was a moment of salvation that he didn't realize he needed until recently; it ended years of self-imposed isolation and signified the start of a life lived for the sake of another. His Child.
He reached out and gripped Tony's chin, tilting the usually handsome face in his direction. At the moment Tony looked like hell. His normally spiky hair was lank, dirty, and matted to his head. The dark circles under his eyes were as black as the bruises on his body. Gibbs sat on the side of the bed, hoping he could get Tony to wake up; the only way this would work was if the dying man actually drank his blood – he couldn't force it down DiNozzo's throat.
Several minutes of effort later, Tony remained unconscious. Gibbs had asked him to open his eyes, ordered him to wake up, patted his cheek, and was considering begging. He could only think of one more tactic to try.
With a sharp movement of his hand, he whacked Tony on top of the head; glad Ducky wasn't in the room because he hadn't held back with the force of the slap. "DiNozzo!" he demanded in his most uncompromising tone.
Tony's eyes popped open immediately; Gibbs smiled ruefully at the automatic response – he was fairly certain the reaction was so ingrained in the younger man that it would work even if Tony was stone cold dead. He waited until there was a glimmer of recognition in the tired green orbs before he said anything.
"We're cutting it close, Tony. Gotta get this done now, ok?"
It took Tony a few minutes to figure out what was going on – his brain was still fairly out of it and his body was completely beyond his control. When it finally registered that Gibbs was sitting there waiting on him to respond, relief swept through him; he had felt himself growing weaker with every breath and was terrified the vampire wouldn't make it back in time. But now that Gibbs was here, terror gripped him for a whole new reason; he really was going to drink Gibbs' blood. It was actually happening. He felt his body tremble with a combination of fear and anticipation. His own blood, what little was left of it, felt like ice water running through his veins.
"Come on, DiNozzo, don't freak out on me now," Gibbs encouraged, noticing the pulse in Tony's neck fluttering rapidly. "You still sure you want to do this?"
The younger man reflected on the question. Did he still want this? He was scared shitless, but yeah, he wanted nothing more than to be Gibbs' son, and he damn well wanted to live. He'd skated around the edges of death enough times in the past few weeks to realize that he had no desire to walk down that dark path at this particular time. Mike Franks had been right; not many people were given the option he was being offered, and he would've been a fool not to take it.
He wanted to tell Gibbs all that he was thinking, but his extremely uncooperative body refused to let him; after a few seconds he finally managed a tiny nod, hoping it was enough to convince Gibbs he was still on board for this.
Gibbs patted his cheek, apparently reassured. "Then I guess it's about time to get started."
The vampire considered what to do next; since Tony couldn't bite him, he'd have to provide access to the blood himself. He could use his claws and slice his wrist, but that would get pretty messy. Instead, he decided to make his own punctures by biting himself.
He lifted his wrist to his mouth and sank his fangs in deeply. The biting sensation was odd and somewhat painful, but he didn't stop until he was sure the holes were big enough for the blood to flow out easily. Drops of crimson formed on the surface of his skin, threatening to drip on the sheets.
Gibbs held his wrist toward Tony's lips, watching with concern as the young man's brow creased and his eyes grew larger. He could see one of Tony's hands tensing around the small boat while the other lay limply on his taut stomach. Tony's lips moved like he was trying to say something, but he couldn't form the words or create any sound.
The vampire stroked his hair; he understood that even though this was what Tony wanted, it was difficult to get past the unnaturalness of the act itself. "It's alright, Tony, just drink so you'll feel better. That's all you need to focus on right now." He tried to adjust his voice so his tone was as gentle and supportive as he could make it. It was the same tone he used to take with Kelly when she refused to drink her cold medicine. Tony resembled a trapped animal; his eyes were darting around and his body was frozen in place. The field agent licked his lips before Gibbs placed his wrist on Tony's mouth.
At first, DiNozzo did nothing, simply sat there, breathing rapidly through his nose. Gibbs sighed. "You have to drink it, Tony, I can't do this part for you."
Tony glanced up at him from the corner of his eyes a bit desperately. Gibbs noticed a trickle of blood on his chin. "This is still up to you, DiNozzo. If you've changed your mind, I won't be mad. We'll just go with Plan B instead."
The vampire could see the wheels in Tony's head turning as he thought about it, but then his body loosened and he settled down. Gibbs felt a hesitant tongue on his skin, and then Tony must have tasted the blood, because there was an abrupt increase in pressure and he felt like a vacuum cleaner had attached itself to his arm. He could feel the blood rushing out of him, and Tony's empty hand came up to press his arm more firmly against the agent's reddened mouth. Tony's eyes were dark and narrowed in intense concentration. Minutes ticked by as he consumed the life-giving substance, seemingly lost in a state of oblivion.
Gibbs didn't know how long he should let this go on, especially since Tony had never ingested vampire blood before, so he tried to pull away – Tony grasped his arm tightly and refused to let go. The senior field agent made a low growl in his throat and continued drinking even more forcefully than before. Gibbs didn't want to hurt Tony, but he could tell he was getting weaker; he had to get Tony to stop.
"Let go, DiNozzo, that's an order." Tony almost never willfully disobeyed a direct order, but this time he did. Instead of backing off he pressed his lips more securely on Gibbs' wrist and sucked harder.
Gibbs could hear Ducky and Mike arguing in the hall. "I don't care what you say, Mike," the Scot burred angrily. "There are many things that could go wrong and it is my responsibility to see the process proceeds as smoothly as possible. Now, step out of my way or we will come to blows."
Ducky must have won the argument, because the door to the room opened and the doctor walked in. "Oh, dear lord." He quickly reached out and took Tony by the arm. "Come on, my boy, you must release Jethro immediately. Mike! Get in here, I need some help!"
The Viking stepped in and sized up the situation swiftly. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, all pretenses that this wasn't Ducky's area of expertise forgotten.
"Sit behind Jethro; I'll handle Anthony." The doctor leaned over and took a firm grip on Tony's head, pulling back. Gibbs pulled in the opposite direction, and with a little effort the two were separated. The lead agent sagged backward, cradling his arm to his chest. Mike supported him while they moved off the bed toward the chair; Gibbs licked the wound, waiting for the punctures to seal over.
Tony sat up on the bed, eyes wide and bewildered, blood streaked down his chin and onto his shirt. He stared at Gibbs as if he couldn't make heads or tails of what was happening. His hand came up and smeared the blood on his face; he gazed at the red spots on his fingertips.
"How are you feeling, Anthony?" Ducky asked calmly, resting a gentle hand on his forehead.
"What?" Tony responded, turning his head toward the ME, clearly confused. He blinked rapidly and his pale skin turned sickly green. "I…Ducky….I'm gonna….."
The physician grabbed a basin and thrust it under Tony's nose, barely able to catch the reddish bile as he vomited several times.
Gibbs leaned forward worriedly. "Is that normal?"
The doctor gave him an exasperated look. "I would think he's taken in too much blood in too short a time. You really should have let me be present, Jethro." He held Tony's shoulders as the young man heaved again. "Ah, Anthony, must it always be so difficult for you?"
"Never wanted…..to be easy," Tony murmured, coughing spit into the bowl.
The old ME laughed. "I suppose not. Better?" Tony nodded and listed limply to the side; Mike came over and held him while Ducky removed the basin, cleaned off his face, and removed his shirt.
"Why do I still feel like crap?" Tony asked as they situated him on the bed again under Gibbs' watchful eyes. "I thought drinking Gibbs' blood was supposed to fix me."
"Your body has to fully change, Anthony. It will take several more days of blood infusion to see if that actually happens. This is a difficult time since we don't know if your system will make the adjustment or not."
"I might not become a vampire?" Tony asked, trying to sit up again, displaying more energy than he had in several days. "Even if I want to?"
"There is no way to predict," Ducky explained gently, forcing him back down with a kind hand on his shoulder. "We just have to wait and see. It's a delicate process and doesn't always work. Now don't overdo yourself; I'm pleased that you're feeling somewhat improved but that won't last long and you need to reserve your strength."
Gibbs knew that waiting was not going to be an easy task for a restless DiNozzo who had made up his mind to get this over with. "Just listen to him, Tony. It'll take awhile, but everything will be fine."
DiNozzo didn't look very convinced. "It's never been this difficult in any of the movies I've watched," he sulked.
Franks chuckled and fluffed the pillows behind him, hauling the skinny young man into an upright position. "Not everything in life is like a damn movie, DiNozzo." Tony shot him a lukewarm glare, already showing that his burst of energy was wearing down.
Gibbs rubbed his face. "When will he need to drink again?" It was time to be practical and he had studied the turning process enough to realize that the first seventy-two hours were critical if it was going to work.
"Even though you overfilled his tank, I'd say he'll need more in a few hours."
Tony made a confused face, fidgeting when Mike pulled the blankets back over him. He was tired of being an invalid. "A few hours? Why so soon?"
"The turning requires a great deal of blood and you were starting from a depleted state to begin with. You'll have to drink every four or five hours for the next several days in order to sustain the process."
Tony shot a pained look at Gibbs. "I didn't know that. Will you have to drink that often? Gibbs, I'm sorry, I wouldn't have agreed to this if I'd understood. Why didn't you tell me? Maybe we should stop?"
The lead agent raised his eyebrows at Mike, who tapped Tony lightly on the back of the head. "Hey!" DiNozzo protested, rubbing the spot and giving Mike a dirty look.
"Remember what I told you, Tony. I don't do anything I don't want to. This part only lasts a few days then the amount of blood you need is reduced. I can deal with some inconvenience if it keeps you alive. Got it?" Gibbs didn't mention it, but he was somewhat grateful to see Tony willing to argue with him. The quiet, weak, and withdrawn Tony had not been someone he recognized. At least this version of Tony was displaying some of his old spark.
"Yes, Boss, sorry." Tony allowed himself to look a little mollified. "I just…" Another icy glare from Gibbs brought the point home. "Shutting up, Boss."
"Good. Now I'm taking a nap and I suggest you do to." Gibbs leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, hoping Tony would follow his lead and get some rest. Tony watched his boss doze off before laying back into his pillows and doing the same, not noticing when Ducky tucked in his blanket and turned out the light.
NCISNCISNCIS
"Listen, Tony, I'm tired of fighting with you. Ducky left instructions for you to eat all of this and I'm not going to be on the receiving end of a lecture on ensuring that you maintain proper nutrition. So open up!"
Abby held out the spoonful of broth and waved it dramatically.
Tony huffed out his nose. "It's not my fault that I have no appetite. I'm drinking blood constantly – isn't that enough?"
"Actually, no, it isn't. Even vampires have to eat, just not as much, and you aren't even a vampire yet. Food is fuel, and your body is working overtime so its needs as much fuel as possible. Please, Tony for me?" The Goth batted her eyelashes coquettishly.
Tony was prepared to launch into another protest revolving around the fact he was continually nauseous, when Gibbs entered the room and folded his arms.
"What's up, Abs? Is he giving you a hard time?"
There was a moment of pause when Tony glared at Abby, silently trying to convince her not to rat him out, and Abby considered who she should aim to please; her boss or her best friend. With a mouthed, sorry, Tony, she turned to Gibbs. "He won't eat anything. Ducky says he has to start getting more nutrients in his system – besides your really awesome blood of course – but I can't get him to cooperate at all. I've tried toast, crackers, soup, and he turns it all down."
"Abby…" Tony interrupted.
"Sorry amore mio; this is for your own good. I can't be a conspirator to you wasting away in front of us." She kissed his cheek; then turned to hand Gibbs the bowl of broth and spoon.
"You try." With a wink at them both she left the room.
Tony sighed dramatically and let his head fall back on the pillows. "Have you ever been sick and tired of being sick and tired?" he asked.
Gibbs snickered, stirring the spoon around in the bowl and lifting it out.
"Abby's right, as usual. You need to eat, now come on – open up."
Tony stared at the spoon like it was his mortal enemy. "I'm really not hungry."
Gibbs' quirked an eyebrow. "So what's it going to take? Do I need to make choo-choo sounds? Or are you more of an airplane going into the hanger kind of guy? Your pick."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."
Gibbs raised the spoon theatrically, adding a nice swooshing sound while aiming straight for Tony's mouth.
"Ok! Stop that – let's pretend we both have some pride left. I'll eat it." Tony opened his mouth and let the lead agent shovel several servings inside.
Gibbs stopped to hand Tony a cup of water. "You know," DiNozzo pointed out, "I can feed myself. Just leave that here and I'll take care of it."
With a snort, Gibbs stuck another spoonful out at him. "Yeah, I'm sure you would take care of it. I just have my doubts it would end up in your stomach."
"I'm not a baby, Boss. Everyone seems to have forgotten that I am a forty-year old man." Scraping the bowl, Gibbs offered him the last bite which Tony took sullenly.
"What you seem to have forgotten, Tony, is that even though the process isn't completed yet, you are about three-fourths of the way to being my Son, and I take that seriously. You aren't just my agent, or my friend, or a guy I like to hang around with anymore. I'm going to be your Father, and if you thought I was kind of pushy before, well this takes it to an entirely new level. I've always been overprotective of my team, but now my whole goal as a vampire is to protect my offspring – you – and I can't do anything about those feelings. Ducky says it's as much biological as psychological. Do you get that?"
Tony fiddled with the edge of the blanket. "I guess I hadn't really thought about it like that. Was it the same way with you and Mike?"
Gibbs laughed. "Only ten times worse. I was having my issues with not wanting to drink blood and he was practically force-feeding me for the first few months. I used to wonder how he put up with me, but…." Gibbs trailed off.
"But what?" Tony prompted.
The vampire ruffled his hair affectionately. "But now I realize he couldn't give up on me anymore than I can give up on you." Tony smiled a little uncomfortably, not quite used to all this fatherly warmth being directed at him, and stifled a yawn.
"Take a break Tony and get some sleep," Gibbs suggested.
Tony stared at him intently. "When do you have to hunt again?" His voice was low with concern. "I…I'm worried something's going to happen to you and it will be my fault because you're doing this for me." He averted his eyes nervously, self-conscious about the revelation.
The vampire patted his arm, leaned back in the chair, and put his feet up on the edge of the bed. "Nothing is going to happen to me, Tony. Remember, part of this father-son thing is that I get to do the worrying. You get to concentrate on staying healthy - which includes sleep. So go on and close your eyes. I don't have to leave again for awhile." Gibbs started humming some tune that Tony had never heard, but it was soothing and before long his eyes were drifting shut. He rested better when Gibbs was there, which he knew was childish and he hoped wasn't a permanent condition, since it could completely sabotage his bachelor lifestyle when this was all over.
When this was all over. He hoped when this ended he would finally be a vampire, and not laid out on Ducky's slab in the morgue; the doctor's repeated warnings that even though he was drinking Gibbs' blood he might not turn following him down into his fitful dreams.
NCISNCISNCIS
Tony tried to remember how long it had been since he'd gotten out of bed on his own. It had probably been back in the castle, the night of the party. Thinking about the party made him think about what happened afterward, and he didn't believe he could handle that tonight, so he tried to distract himself. It was hard to do, since he was stuck in the spare bedroom with nowhere to go and nothing to occupy his mind.
Most of the time someone stayed with him, whether because they felt he needed to be entertained or because they were simply worried about him, he wasn't sure. For the most part he didn't mind, but the endless monotony was starting to get to him and there were only so many games of rummy he could stand.
McGee had hooked a small television in the corner, which helped some, and he had a John Wayne movie playing with the sound off—for some reason, even the movies he loved so much were irritating him. Ducky said the turning was making him short-tempered, which Tony definitely agreed with. Even though he wasn't experiencing the incapacitating pain from before, he'd developed a whole host of other symptoms, from itchy skin to never-ending nausea. And he was still weak and fatigued - Ducky also said that his body was using massive amounts of energy to try and change, which was why he was constantly tired. That was another reason he didn't even attempt to watch television, since he fell asleep every fifteen minutes and usually woke up with the credits rolling.
He looked over at the clock, trying to calculate how long it would be until he had to drink again. It was occurring on average every four hours, and the constant feeding was taking its toll on both him and Gibbs. Gibbs was hunting every twelve hours or so to replenish his own blood supply, and was having to travel further every time in order to ensure that he didn't create any suspicious patterns. Mike had been going with him to provide extra protection since Gibbs was pushing himself into a state of exhaustion. Every time Tony saw the haggard lines of his face and his tired blue eyes he felt guilty.
It had been three days and nothing was different; it was obvious that for some reason he wasn't changing. Ducky theorized it was because he had been so weak to start with, but Tony suspected something else. Despite his best efforts, maybe his heart wasn't in it enough; maybe he was somehow impeding the process without even knowing it. He stared at the little wooden boat on the nightstand, and wondered how long Gibbs could keep up this pace. Even vampires had physical limits, and the lead agent was pushing his as far as they would go.
Tony knew Gibbs would never give up; it was the soldier in him, the marine, and the father who never let the ones he loved down. At some point, Tony had accepted that somehow he'd become one of those fortunate few that Gibbs loved. He wasn't sure why, but he knew it was true. Gibbs would keep trying until it was impossible for him to continue. Tony couldn't let him do that. They were going to have to accept that he wasn't going to become a vampire; it wasn't meant to be.
Glancing at the door to the small adjacent bathroom, Tony debated if he could make it that far by himself. All he had to do was yell and someone, probably McGee who was turning out to be quite a good McNursemaid, would show up and help him. But he didn't want any help. He wanted more than anything to just get up and take a piss all alone.
Throwing caution to the wind, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, ignoring the wave of dizziness that swept over him. When he felt a bit more steady, he planted his socked feet on the floor and stood, albeit shakily, but he stood. With one hand in front as a safety precaution, he slowly inched across the floor, ignoring the way everything tilted and swayed around him. It took some time, but he finally made it to the bathroom door, where he leaned heavily to recuperate.
Using the sink for support, he managed to reach his destination of the toilet and was fairly pleased with himself. He took care of business and gave himself a mental high five. Turning back toward the sink, he stopped when he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.
It had never occurred to him that on his previous trips to the bathroom, whoever accompanied him steered him straight in and out with no chance to catch the slightest glimpse of himself; now that he was looking it was easy to see why.
His eyes were sunken and dull with black circles ringing them, his hair was flat and greasy, fading yellow-blue bruises graced his cheeks, jaw and neck. He wasn't surprised by the bites, since he could look down at himself and see the remaining evidence of those, but the scar on his cheek - that was a shock. Someone could have potentially mentioned that tidbit of information. Tony held the sink with one hand and let his finger trace the scar with the other. It was raised, red, and puffy and it was so long, traveling from the corner of his eye to the corner of his mouth; he couldn't believe he hadn't felt it.
Tony turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face and drank some from his cupped hand. He was some kind of monster; disfigured and hoping to become a vampire. Maybe it would be for the best if he died and quit trying to play out this farce.
He was shaking, partially from the shock of seeing himself and partly from the sojourn his body wasn't ready for yet and the way things were going never would be again. He stumbled from the bathroom blindly, bumping into the dresser and knocking himself down. It took a second for him to realize he couldn't get up; the exhaustion was too much and shuddering overtook him. Wrapping his arms around his chest he didn't even try to get out of the floor. Time passed, he wasn't sure how long, and when heavy footsteps eventually entered the room he could barely open his eyes.
"What the….DiNozzo, why are you in the floor?" Gibbs was kneeling next to him, hands checking for new injuries, arm reaching behind his back to lever him up. "Shit, you're freezing."
"You gotta stop, Boss," Tony mumbled into his flannel shirt, for a crazy second wondering what fabric softener Gibbs used because his shirt smelled like a fresh summer breeze. Wistfully he thought about how he'd worked most of last summer and hadn't gone on a real vacation, and now he'd never feel a summer breeze again. It didn't matter though, because Gibbs was exhausted, and he was exhausted, and this was never, ever going to work. It was time to face that fact and get Gibbs to see it, too.
Gibbs easily shifted him off the floor and walked him back to the bed, an arm firmly circling his waist to hold him up. "What were you doing, DiNozzo?"
"Had to hit the head, Boss, thought it might be nice to piss without an assistant."
Gibbs flattened his lips, silently commiserating with Tony's point. "How long were you in the floor?" He dumped Tony on the bed and started piling blankets on him, not liking the continual shivering.
"I don't know. A while."
Gibbs tucked the blankets around him and stuffed pillows under his head. "Don't do that again without help. You need to drink some more." He lifted his wrist toward his mouth to bite. DiNozzo reached out a hand to stop him.
"No, Boss. It isn't working; you need to stop before you make yourself sick."
"I'm a vampire, Tony. I don't get sick."
"Have you looked at yourself? You look like shit, Boss."
Gibbs smiled wryly. "I thought you agreed to let me worry about that, Tony."
Tony's eyes were sad, despondent, and just a little hopeless. "Ducky was right - I was too weak for this. You're gonna have to…..you're gonna have to let me go." He paused and tilted his head, chewing his lip. He really didn't want to cry again. "You did everything you could, and I'm grateful, but I'm really, really tired."
Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek, his blue eyes flashing with an emotion Tony didn't recognize. Then his face settled into a mask of determination the senior field agent had seen several times before, most notably when he was pursuing Ari. Captain Ahab was back, and he wasn't going to give up on catching that damned whale. He'd get it or die trying, which was what worried DiNozzo.
"Not yet, Tony," Gibbs said, a strange tone in his voice. "Another day. It could still work."
Tony started to protest, but something about Gibbs' expression stopped him; he realized the unusual emotion in the pale eyes was one Gibbs rarely displayed. Fear. Tony could feel it in the connection between them; Gibbs was afraid to let him die, afraid of being left behind to deal with the guilt and loneliness.
"Alright, boss. One more day," he quietly agreed. The anxiety in Gibbs' eyes faded, replaced by gratitude; Tony had never felt more bittersweet about anything in his life.
He drank from Gibbs' wrist and managed to fight back the nausea without vomiting, letting Gibbs card fingers through his hair until he was so sleepy he couldn't possibly stay awake.
He might never get a summer breeze again, but some parts of his life hadn't been that bad after all.
NCISNCISNCIS
Gibbs slipped out of the room and down the stairs. He didn't like leaving Tony alone, even when he was asleep, and this incident had proven why. Not only had DiNozzo nearly frozen himself on the cold floor, but he also seemed to have given up hope of ever completing the turning process.
Tony was correct about one thing; they were both worn out. He had hunted more in the last three days than in the previous three years, and the constant feeding was draining his energy. DiNozzo was also right that the change didn't seem to be working, which Gibbs had refused to accept as a possibility. Leave it to Tony to prove him wrong.
He walked into the kitchen where Ziva, Ducky, and Abby were sitting. He poured a cup of coffee and settled against the counter. "Ziva, think you could go sit with Tony? He's asleep."
"Of course, Gibbs," she answered.
"Hey," the lead agent added as she walked toward the door. "Make sure if he wakes up he keeps his ass in bed. When I went up there last time he was laying in the floor."
Ziva smiled. "I will make sure he stays where he is supposed to." He heard her jog softly up the stairs.
Gibbs drank his coffee and didn't attempt to make conversation. There wasn't much left to say; either Tony turned or he didn't; there was nothing any of them could do about it.
A surprising smell hit his nostrils and he straightened. He sat his coffee down and walked to the front door, Mike and Ducky fast on his heels. "Who do you think it is?" Dr. Mallard asked, aware that another vampire was outside, but uncertain if it was friend or foe.
Gibbs threw open the door to reveal the small, attractive man in designer clothes who removed his fancy dark sunglasses that he was certain Tony would've appreciated.
"May I enter your home?" Julian asked politely.
In the rush of trying to save Tony, Gibbs had completely ignored the possibility the Conclave might interfere, bringing him in for punishment because of the deaths of Adrian and Gabriel. If that was what Julian wanted, he couldn't let it happen. He was Tony's only chance for survival, and he wouldn't let anyone get in his way.
NCISNCISNCIS
Julian smiled as Gibbs stepped back. "I welcome you into my home," he stated formally, his eyes alert and wary for any sign of trouble.
The simple house was much as the vampire expected from Gibbs, functional and practical with no extravagances, much like the man. He nodded at the young Goth and sweet-faced agent sitting in the living room. A third human walked in from the kitchen, and it was everything Julian could do not to laugh at his shocked expression.
"Julian, I'd like to introduce you to Abby, McGee, and Palmer. They work for me."
"Hello," Julian greeted, with a small bow. "It is a pleasure to meet all of you." He approached Abby and took her hand, giving her a small kiss. "I have a feeling you are quite the interesting young lady," he teased, cocking an eyebrow at her studded collar and platform boots.
Abby blushed and very nearly batted her eyelashes, which caused Gibbs to cough violently. She gave him a warning glance, before smiling at Julian. "Maybe we could talk before you leave. Gibbs won't tell me much of anything about his life or what he knows of vampire history; maybe you could help me fill in some gaps."
"It would my pleasure," he answered and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Abby giggled and it was McGee's turn to cough. Palmer thumped him helpfully on the back.
Julian faced Gibbs again and was suddenly very serious. "I need to speak with you privately, Leroy."
Gibbs nodded and escorted the Conclave member to the kitchen where he waved his hand at a chair and busied himself getting down several coffee mugs. Ducky and Mike both followed the vampires and took seats at the table also.
Julian scowled. "I suppose it will be impossible to get you two to leave, hmm?"
Mike leaned back and folded his arms. "Let's see you try."
Dr. Mallard accepted the cup of coffee Gibbs handed him. "Anything you say to Jethro pertains to us as well. We were all involved with the incident in Albania, and if you're here to mete out consequences he shouldn't face them alone."
Gibbs met Julian's eyes and handed him a mug that said "Happy Bosses' Day." Julian smelled the coffee before taking a sip and gasping slightly, making a strained face before drinking again. The vampire looked entirely out of place; his cosmopolitan air and designer fashion a stark contrast to the homespun character of Gibbs' home.
Julian took a few minutes to drink his coffee before speaking again. "You do not have to be concerned about the Conclave; I have spoken to them and taken care of the matter. They were very displeased to learn of Gabriel and Adrian's treatment of Anthony, so have chosen to overlook your actions. They do, however, insist that you turn Anthony in order to….." He sought the correct word. "…..replace the vampires who were killed. I am here to deliver that message and witness the event."
Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but Julian interrupted him. "I know you do not want to do this, but you have no choice. Neither does Anthony for that matter. If you refuse, the Conclave will enforce a sentence against you specifically for the death of Gabriel, and Anthony will be taken away somewhere they feel he can be better protected against others who would seek to abuse him. It is the best I could do."
Gibbs stared into the black depths of his own mug of coffee. "You're a little too late. I've already started the change in Tony."
Julian's amber eyes lit up with unconcealed excitement. "You have? How is he doing? That is wonderful news!"
The silver-haired vampire swirled his mug in a small circle. "It isn't working; Ducky thinks he was in too bad of shape when we started. Whatever the reason, we're on the third day and he hasn't turned yet. He wants me to stop trying."
Suddenly the slump of Gibbs' shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes, and the tension permeating the small house made sense to Julian. He wiped condensation from his cup with his thumbs.
"May I see him?"
Gibbs looked at Ducky, who shrugged. The lead agent folded his arms and silently considered the request.
Julian leaned forward. "I promise I will do nothing to upset him. I merely want to speak with him; it isn't often I get to make the acquaintance of another bellus. It would be an honor if you would allow it; perhaps I can rally his spirit some"
"Alright, but I'm staying with you. This way." He led Julian up the stairs to the small bedroom; Ziva stood from her spot by the bed when they entered, her posture both surprised and protective. "It's alright, Ziva," Gibbs explained. "Julian is a friend; he wants a few minutes with Tony."
The Israeli flashed her eyes at the newcomer, walking close to him as she left the room, her body language making it perfectly clear that no harm had better come to her partner. Julian paid no attention, his gaze transfixed on the sleeping man.
"Could we wake him?" he asked.
"You can try. I'm not sure if he'll be up to talking – this has taken a pretty big toll on him, and I don't know what he'll think about meeting another vampire right now." Gibbs grinned drolly. "He's got some trust issues there."
The Conclave member nodded his understanding. Julian sat on the edge of the bed and picked up Tony's hand, rubbing it gently. Within a few seconds, a pair of green eyes stared at him.
"Who are you?" Tony asked, glancing around anxiously until he found Gibbs standing quietly behind the unknown visitor. Gibbs nearly unnoticeable nod of his head reassured Tony he didn't need to be afraid.
"My name is Julian. I am a vampire and a member of the Conclave. I am also like you, Anthony. I am a bellus, too."
Tony digested that information. "Why are you here?"
Julian smiled warmly. "I wanted to meet you. I believe we have a great deal in common if we have the chance to get to know one another. I would also like to help you understand your nature, if you would let me."
Tony took a harder look at the visitor, assessing him with the eyes of a seasoned investigator. "Nice jacket," he commented. "Is that lambskin?"
Julian laughed. "Oh yes, we could definitely get along."
Tony sobered, shifting on the bed uncomfortably in an effort to get his skin to stop crawling. "It doesn't matter; this isn't working and I'm not going to be a vampire anyway." He spared a quick look at Gibbs, his face creased into an intense frown.
"Leroy told me that the situation is not going well. I wonder if you might let me try something."
Tony's eyes grew curious. "What?"
"I am quite ancient, Anthony, and I have never sired my own Child. As a bellus, I have been given leeway by the Conclave in the matter." With a sharp claw he pierced the end of his index finger. "However, I would like to share some of my blood with you. I think it might help with your difficulty in turning."
Tony stared at the bright red drop on the end of Julian's finger. "Would I still be Gibbs' Son? Would he still be my Maker? I don't want it if it will affect that." He noticed that Gibbs had stepped closer, hovering close to Julian's shoulder, waiting for the older vampire to answer.
"Your loyalty is a great attribute, Anthony. It is but a tiny drop, and should have no impact on your status as Gibbs' Son. It might, though, jumpstart the turning process if you would like to try."
Tony looked at Gibbs, unsure of what to do. The federal agent faced Julian. "It won't hurt him?" he asked with apprehension.
Julian shook his head. "No, the worse that could occur is absolutely nothing. I believe it is worth a try; my blood is quite powerful, or so I've been told, and could restore the strength Anthony's body requires to finish what you have begun."
Gibbs sighed and looked at his field agent. "It's up to DiNozzo, but I don't see how it could harm anything."
Considering he was out of options, Tony nodded his head in agreement. Julian smiled. "Thank you for your confidence in me." He placed his finger on Tony's lip and the young man licked off the miniscule drop of blood, skeptical that such a small amount would make any difference at all.
He was wrong. Taste flooded his mouth, exploding in an array of sweet and salty flavor. His eyes widened and he stared at Julian, swallowing slowly to savor the experience.
"Is that what I taste like?" he asked, understanding now why everyone was making such a big deal about his blood. Julian's was inexplicably delicious, and he wondered how anyone who drank something that tasted so good could ever stop.
Gibbs did. He marveled at the self-control of the vampire who had watched over him all this time, and never taken advantage of the tantalizingly addictive blood he could have taken any time.
Julian grinned. "I have a feeling you taste quite similar, yes."
Tony blinked, suddenly aware of a strange sensation creeping through his body. It was like a warm fire building in him from within, but it didn't hurt, it actually felt soothing and comforting. The gentle blaze was traveling from his toes upward, slowly enveloping his skin, erasing all the previous discomfort and replacing it with a gentle tingling. He wondered if he was glowing. The warmth brought with it a hazy, drugged feeling that left Tony floating and calm.
His long limbs relaxed and the knots that had gripped his muscles unfurled; he felt both exhilarated and languid at the same time. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He looked around the room and noticed that everything had a shimmery halo surrounding it; even Julian twinkled like a star sent down from heaven. He was absolutely beautiful.
Gibbs, shit, the former Marine had an aura that was so incredibly intense, so vibrant and alive that Tony almost couldn't bear to look at it. It was soothing and peaceful, but at the same time passionate and with such a deep core of emotion – Tony felt like he was seeing inside his mentor and was getting a glimpse at the very essence of Gibbs' soul. Tony's cheeks were wet and he realized he was crying again, but he didn't really care this time.
Julian smiled at him compassionately. "How do you feel?"
Tony struggled to find words adequate to explain the overwhelming, incredible sensations; there were none worthy to describe it. "What's happening to me?" he whispered breathlessly.
The vampire touched the scar on Tony's cheek and tilted his head toward him.
"In just a few minutes, Tony, you will finally be a vampire. Congratulations," Julian said softly.
Tony was vaguely aware of Gibbs' fingers curling around his, and the unbelievably blue eyes were staring into his own.
"It's ok, Tony," his soon-to-be Father said gently. "Let yourself go."
And with that, the warmth engulfed Tony's entire body, multicolored fireworks exploded vibrantly in his head, and he passed out completely.