This is being written in collaboration with my talented friend nightchild78. We are having fun bouncing ideas off each other, and sharing in the excitement of watching this story unfold!

Special thanks to Rose Malmaison for making the image to go along with this fic!

Categories: NCIS/Torchwood

Rating: M

Characters: Tony DiNozzo, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Abby Sciuto, Tim McGee, Ziva David, Dr Donald Mallard, Jimmy Palmer / Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Toshiko Sato, Owen Harper.

Pairings: Tony/Gibbs, Jack/Ianto, Tosh/Owen.

Warnings: Swearing, slash, Mpreg, explicit sexual situations.

Spoilers: Set during the 6th season of NCIS and after Children of Earth for Torchwood. Mentions of the episodes SWAK, Boxed In, Hiatus Part 2, Escaped, Singled Out, Bury Your Dead, Chimera and Requiem for NCIS and for the episodes Cyberwoman, To the Last Man, Dead Man Walking, A Day In the Death, Exit Wounds as well as the whole of season 3 of Torchwood. Miracle Day never happened.

Disclaimer: We don't own these characters. We just like to play with them.

RENASCENCE RENASCENCE RENASCENCE

Ianto handed Gibbs, Jack and Tosh fresh cups of coffee before taking a sip from his own. He was certain he would be required to make the beverage in a seemingly endless supply all day, as none of them had slept well the previous night.

Everyone was silent as they waited for news on Tony's condition. Time seemed to stretch out, giving their minds time to think up the worst of outcomes as Owen, Ducky and Palmer worked on him. The ME assistant had hurried over without a single complaint about being woken from a sound sleep, and Jack did what he could to assist the doctors -with a bit of instruction - until Jimmy arrived.

In this worried state of waiting, Gibbs had plenty of time to think about Tony's last words to him, and he finally remembered the incident his lover was recalling. It was when they were working the case on the Chimera. Tony was worried he might have contracted an airborne virus; an understandable fear, especially considering he had survived the plague. At the time, he was spiraling into a state of panic, going over the ways he thought he'd end up dying. Movie scenarios, of course. That's how Tony's mind worked.

And how did Gibbs respond? In that time when it would have been best to give Tony comfort and reassurance, what did he do instead? He told Tony to die like Charlie Chaplin in the Gold Rush. Silently. Yes, they were in the middle of a case, in a high pressure situation. And perhaps everyone found Tony's fears to be distracting, or even annoying at the time. But he had been legitimately scared. No matter how Gibbs might have perceived Tony's behavior, he could have just as easily chosen the path of kindness. He could have reassured Tony. Instead, he told him to die silently, and made him carry around a potentially diseased rat. It was cruel, and Gibbs felt ashamed for the way he'd treated Tony.

This recollection sparked a kind of chain reaction, as Gibbs went over countless instances where he had been cruel and insensitive to Tony, and dismissive of his feelings. So many times when his accomplishments had been diminished, and he was made to feel unimportant. Shameful behavior, and not just on his part. The entire team was guilty of it. But Gibbs, as team leader, had to take responsibility for encouraging it.

At the time, Gibbs didn't know about Tony's mental illness. He had no idea that the way Tony acted was a coping mechanism, and that he needed the support of meds to get through the day. He didn't know how emotionally fragile his SFA actually was. Tony made sure that everyone saw him as good natured and resilient.

Gibbs didn't know, but that was no excuse for the way he'd treated Tony.

Now, Tony might die, leaving this life feeling he didn't matter. Believing those around him saw him as some sort of joke. The offhanded remarks that Gibbs had seen as insignificant at the time had stayed with Tony, wounding him emotionally. Those were the memories Tony would take to the grave with him.

"Jethro?"

Ducky's voice pulled Gibbs back into the present.

"How's Tony? How is our baby?" Gibbs asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answers to those questions.

"The baby is fine," Owen answered, leaning against the kitchen counter as Ducky took a seat at the table with the others. "I ran the Berakan scanner over Tony, and found no signs of fetal distress.

"And Tony? How is he?" Gibbs' tone was soft and concerned. Though he was impatient and anxious for information, his gruff demeanor had been replaced with that of a man on the brink of loss.

Owen folded his arms, furrowing his brows in consternation. "Tony's body had to make room for the uterus, to accommodate the growing fetus. This caused his organs to compress and shift, which probably explains why he's been so weak. And it's damn lucky he's been in that wheelchair. With his insides as compressed as they are, his body is in a delicate state."

At these words, Ianto's face went even paler than it already was. "Tony's fall last night...did it...?"

"No worries, Tea Boy," Owen reassured him. "The fall didn't cause him any organ damage.

Palmer took this opportunity to speak up. "As for the shortness of breath, Tony's lungs are also compressed. Since they were already damaged from his bout with the plague, this eventually led to respiratory failure."

"Bottom line?" Gibbs asked, the lump in his throat audible.

"His body snapped," Owen said matter-of-factly.

"Tony is in a coma, " Ducky explained after a quick glance to the other doctor, who merely shrugged. "Currently, a ventilator is breathing for him. I'm sorry to say that, at this time, we don't know if he'll pull through. At the moment, he is barely clinging to life."

Ducky lowered his eyes, sadly aware that his explanation was no more comforting than Owen's. There was no nice way to word the truth of the situation. It was frightening and uncertain. As much as Ducky wanted to offer comfort and reassurance to his friend, he couldn't.

"Is there anything you can do for him?" Jack asked desperately, elbows on the table, and his head in his hands. "Anything at all you can try? Is there any hope for Tony?"

"We don't know, Jack. I'm sorry," Owen said solemnly. "We're looking into possible solutions, but right now, it's not looking good."

"Well, I'm not giving up on him," Gibbs said stubbornly, as he stood up and walked towards the bedroom to see Tony. Though usually a man of few words, there was a lot that needed to be said. Gibbs hoped to God that his words would reach Tony.

RENASCENCE RENASCENCE RENASCENCE

It felt surreal walking into the bedroom, greeted not by the sound of Tony's voice, or even his snoring, but instead the hiss of the ventilator and the beep of the heart monitor.

That was clearly Tony lying in the bed, with the IV and various tubes coming out of him. It looked like Tony, but it didn't feel like Tony. He seemed more like a lifeless object, and Gibbs found himself wondering if there was anything left of Tony in that body. Or was he now just an incubator? Would Gibbs' selfish desire to have a child cost him the man he loved more than anything?

Taking a seat beside the bed, Gibbs lightly held Tony's finger. The IV was stuck into his hand, and he was afraid to make any more contact than that. Tony seemed so fragile.

"I never have to worry about holding up my end of the conversation with you, Tony," Gibbs said, warming the cold finger between his own thumb and index finger. "You do enough talking for both of us...I sure wish you'd talk for me now."

Gibbs had to swallow and take a few deep breaths, wiping his eyes with his free hand. He would not cry. Not here. Not in front of Tony. He didn't know if Tony was aware of his presence, but he wasn't taking any chances. Tony needed to believe that Gibbs was strong, so that he would keep fighting.

"I...ah...remembered what I said to you, about dying silently. I'd forgotten about it until I heard you repeat it back to me. I don't know what I was thinking. I was a bastard. You were scared, and based on your past experience, that was understandable. I had no right to say what I did, and...I'm sorry."

Studying Tony's face, Gibbs saw not even a flicker behind his eyelids. No twitching of a hand. No signs of recognition. Gibbs kept watching, hoping for some tiny reaction to his words. He almost wished that Tony would wake up and curse at him angrily. Even if Tony swore he'd never forgive him again, Gibbs just wanted him back.

"And I know. Rule number 6. But I honestly don't give a damn, because I have a lot of things to apologize for. Probably more than I'll ever remember." Gibbs ran a hand over his jaw, sighing. "Oh, geez...where do I start? How about I start with when I ran off to Mexico. Correction: when I ran away to Mexico. I ran away from my problems and left you to clean up the mess. You did a damn good job running things while I was away, from what Jenny told me. The job was thrust upon you , and you did what you had to. And from what I understand, the rest of the team didn't make it easy on you. Hell, I saw the shrine Abby kept in my absence. That couldn't have made you feel good. I should have thanked you when I came back. You kept things running smoothly. I was wrong to just take the job back from you without asking. "

Gibbs' hand moved to Tony's large belly, and he felt some kicks. Flutters of hope in a hopeless situation.

"Unlike me, you've never run away from your problems. You confront them. You deal with them. You take responsibility. Tony, neither of us expected for you to get pregnant. It hasn't been easy for me, watching every day as you became weaker and weaker. So many times, I wanted to tell you that you don't have to put yourself through this. But once you made up your mind to keep this baby, I knew there was no going back for you. Once again, you are facing up to your responsibility."

Keeping his hand on Tony's belly, Gibbs found comfort in the lively kicks beneath the smooth, round dome.

"You've gotta keep fighting, Tony! Do it for our daughter! Do it for me!" Standing up, Gibbs leaned over and kissed Tony's stomach. "Without you, I wouldn't be alive and... and I never even bothered to thank you for saving my life. I never told you this, and I know I should have; you're the best damn agent I've ever worked with. Period. But also the best man I've ever known. Honest, loyal and kind. I don't deserve you. But I sure am glad you took a chance on me."

Kissing the top of Tony's head, Gibbs then exited the room. Walking out to the garden, he sat down on a bench, doing what he couldn't in Tony's lifeless presence. He cried.

RENASCENCE RENASCENCE RENASCENCE

Jack sat silently at the piano, recalling fairly recent memories of he and Tony singing show tunes together while Tony played. Tony reminded Jack of a younger version of himself, and even a bit of James. From everything Tony had told Jack about his mother, he suspected he was also a great deal like Annabelle. If Tony was indeed anything like his mother, than she had grown to become an incredible woman, filled with humor, warmth and compassion.

"Jack?"

Taking a seat beside his lover, Ianto put his hand on Jack's lap, lacing their fingers together.

"It's been a long time since I've really had family," Jack told Ianto, squeezing his hand. "Alice kept her distance, even before the 456. And after losing Steven...I think it's safe to say she'll never speak to me again.

I never got the chance to know Annabelle. But through Tony, I felt I got a glimpse into who she was. Through his memories of her, which I could see reflected in his personality, I know I could be proud to call her my daughter. And after getting to know Tony, I can say with confidence that I'm proud to call him my grandson."

"He's a good man. And a true friend. You should be proud," Ianto said, nodding.

"It doesn't seem fair," Jack lamented. "I never had any health problems while pregnant. Why couldn't my 51st century DNA protect Tony?"

"Because the 20th century DNA overpowered it?" Ianto guessed. "Tony is still a man of his own time."

"Well, he doesn't deserve this!" Jack's body stiffened, and he began trembling in an effort to contain his emotions. "I hate knowing that I'll live forever, while having to watch the people I care about die."

"Well find a way to help Tony," Ianto whispered, leaning into Jack. "I promise you, I will do my best to find a solution. I can be very resourceful, you know." Ianto grinned.

Jack smiled through the tears that were fighting to fall from his eyes. "How can you stay so positive?"

"Because right now, hope is all we've got," Ianto answered truthfully. "But I'm not ready to give up on Tony. He wouldn't want us to. So let's do everything we can for him. Whatever the outcome, at least we'll know we tried."

Jack took a deep breath in and out through his nose in an attempt to steady his nerves. Ianto was right, of course. They couldn't just sit around, waiting for Tony to die. With all of the miracles they had experienced in recent months, Jack had to believe that more were possible. Maybe, just maybe, Tony could be saved.

RENASCENCE RENASCENCE RENASCENCE

McGee sat on the front porch of the Torchwood house, still trying to come to terms with what had happened to Tony. In a few minutes, he would go in to see his friend, but he needed to pull it together first. Emotions were running high in the house, everyone dealing with the situation in their own way. The air felt heavy in there, and he needed some quiet and fresh air to help him think of what he should say to his comatose friend. McGee honestly didn't know if Tony would hear or comprehend his words, but he needed to believe that he would.

Thinking back, there were so many things McGee should have said to Tony, and far more things he wished he could take back. He was sure he wasn't the only team member with these feelings. If he was, then the others needed to seriously take a good look at themselves.

"McGee!"

Abby came bounding onto the porch, nearly suffocating McGee in a tight bear hug.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Poor Tony! Have you seen him yet? Do you know how he is? Did they -"

"Abby!" McGee cut her off. " I don't know. I just got here. When I asked, Ianto told me that Tony is still in a coma. Nothing has changed."

Abby started pacing the porch, her boots clunking heavily on the wood. "Tony won't die, right? He can't die! The last time I saw him, I said some really mean things to him! Like, really, really mean! I don't think I could ever forgive myself if he died. He won't die, right, McGee? Tell me he won't die! He -"

"Abby!" McGee snapped. "Shut up already! This isn't about you! I'm not going to sugar coat things just to make you feel better! You fucked up, all right? We all fucked up! But if you're hoping Tony wakes up just so you can feel better about how you treated him, then you can just fuck off! Because I'll bet you wouldn't be sorry at all if he hadn't fallen into a coma!"

"McGee..." Abby whispered raspily, her voice thick with repressed sobs.

McGee couldn't bring himself to apologize. It would be insincere. So he just took a few deep breaths before speaking up again.

"Look, just try not to be so...intense in there. This has been hard on everyone, and you can be a bit...much."

"McGee...how can you say that?" Abby asked, seemingly devastated at being called out on her behavior.

McGee sighed. "Just give people space, okay? Especially Gibbs. This is harder on him than anyone." Standing up, McGee took Abby by the hands, locking eyes with her. "Promise me."

Abby's lips turned down into a sad pout. "Gibbs probably hates me now. And I used to be his favorite!"

Standing just inside the doorway, Gibbs heard everything. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He just wanted to step outside for some air. But hearing Abby's voice stopped him in his tracks. As her words reached his ears, his heart sank in realization.

"Oh, Tony. What have I done?"

RENASCENCE RENASCENCE RENASCENCE

"Owen, please listen to me!" Tosh pleaded, standing up from where she sat at her desk. "There has to be another way!"

"You don't think I've looked? We've all looked, Tosh! This is the only option! Otherwise, Tony will die! This isn't speculation, it's certainty!" Owen informed her defiantly. "If we don't do something quickly, he still might be able to carry the baby to term, but he's never going to wake up!"

Walking to stand face to face with Tosh, it pained Owen to look at her tearful expression. But his mind was made up.

"Tosh, I became a doctor to help people. To save lives. I can't just let Tony die, when I know that I have it in my power to save him!"

"But Jack said -"

"He can't know for sure. Nobody does. There also a chance that it turns out to be harmless. And I'm sure Jack will understand!" Owen assured Tosh. "After all, I'll be doing this for his grandson!"

"What will I understand?" Jack asked, standing in the doorway, arms crossed. He had heard the arguing from downstairs, and came up to see what was wrong.

Both Owen and Tosh turned to face Jack. Tony had been in his coma for almost a week, and with each passing day, what little optimism Jack had left continued to fade.

Owen approached Jack, hoping his decision would be taken as good news.

"Jack, I want to try that 'resurrection trick' on Tony."

Jack blinked, not quite sure he'd heard correctly.

"Are you saying...?"

"You heard him right," Tosh said, stepping forward. "He wants to give Tony his vital energy, even if that means we end up losing him forever!"