Warnings: Dark, lots of angst, Tony whump.
A/N: Hi everyone, happy weekend... so how about an update? I hope everyone is still enjoying this. I'm certainly glad you are along for the ride 😊. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!
Tony was running out of time. After hours of studying his small cell he'd finally found his way out. And he had to act fast.
His tiny, shack like hell was getting colder by the second. He didn't have much to keep himself warm and the little space heater at the far end of the room wasn't doing much now that the sun had gone down. Tony had found some old painting tarp and wrapped it around his body to try and trap his body heat… but it wasn't very effective.
Leah had insisted that he wear layers the morning he had left Washington. He wasn't sure why that was necessary but now he was thankful. His wool sweater over an Oxford shirt was going to go a long way to keep him warm more than his normal shirt and tie. But there was only so much a sweater was going to do.
It was getting cold. Real cold. Tony was doing his best to keep his body temperature up because he knew that he was at risk for hypothermia. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his pants, fingers still clutching tightly to the picture of Leah and Jack. They really were his lifeline. He kept thinking about how much he wanted to teach Jack about sports and have more children with Leah. If he quit fighting now all the struggles he had gone through to find them would mean nothing.
Which was why he had to run and spent the last few hours limping around the shed looking for another way out besides a locked door.
In the back of the room he'd found a broken window that would explain why the damn space heater wasn't keeping him warm.
He looked at the scraps of food Wayne had left him. He estimated that his tormentor had been gone for about two or three hours.
Tony had started to formulate a plan for escape the moment Wayne had shut the door the last time he "visited". He knew it was probably a stupid idea to make a run for it, especially on a knee that was injured… but he had a better shot at surviving and getting home to Leah and his son if he ran for it. And really what choice did he have?
Wincing he pulled himself up onto his injured leg. He pulled on a pair of work gloves he'd found, and a heavy hunting jacket that reminded him of something that Gibbs would wear, his work boots that he'd worn might hold up okay but he wasn't sure how long he could run around in the snow in them. He'd also found a warm hat that hunter's liked to use and pulled it on. Pocketing an ice pick for a weapon, Tony limped towards the door.
He left the tattered remains of his suit coat behind to leave a trail for Gibbs and disappeared into the snow.
"Has there been any word on Anthony?"
"Still waiting on a search warrant for the inn. Did you get a chance to look over that file, Ducky?"
Sighing, Ducky nodded his head. "Yes. I did. Wayne has always been a troubling boy I would suspect. Teachers were concerned about his dark tendencies but he had a loving home life. They did not see any need to get anyone involved."
Tim rubbed the back of his head. "Would it have mattered if he had gotten that help?"
Ducky shook his head. "Wayne is just the product of poor biology. Mental illness sometimes has no rhyme or reason. Certainly there was nothing in his life that triggered these thoughts and feelings. As much as we do not want to admit it some people are just born evil."
"That will be really comforting to Leah."
"I never said my profile would be comforting, Timothy."
"Sorry. I'm exhausted. And it's been an incredibly long day."
Ducky nodded. "It's understandable. This is a personal case with a lot of emotional investment. It has not helped that you are recovering from bronchitis."
Tim felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Ducky was right this was personal. Tony was his friend and mentor. It had been Tony's odd way of training that had made him the agent he was today. "So many of our cases end up without a happy ending. I'm afraid that it's going to happen to Tony. And Leah... having to raise Jack by herself... that just doesn't seem fair."
"Jethro will find him."
"In how many pieces?"
Ducky felt the cold dread in Tim's words. They all were feeling it. And they were no strangers to such desperation, dread, and pain. It came with the nature of their work. He glanced at the clock, debating on going home or staying a bit longer in case there was news.
Tim had fallen eerily silent. His chest ached from his bronchitis, his stomach was protesting its mistreatment for the last several hours and he had promised to call Delilah with any news in an hour.
He had none. And it was killing him. This was his fault wasn't it? If he hadn't gotten sick he would have been with Tony. Leah was going to hate him for the rest of her life if Tony didn't come home. Maybe he deserved that despite the small voice of reason that this had been out of his control.
And there was the heart of the problem. They had no control over this situation and preventing it and they all hated loosing control.
"Tim!" Ellie's shouts startled him. "We found a judge willing to listen to our case! FBI was sending an attorney now. We should have the warrant within the hour."
Ducky smiled. "See. A bit of good news."
He had to agree. It might have been the best news that Tim had heard all day.
Gibbs was beginning to lose whatever little patience he had.
He had never been a man that liked to wait and especially when his people were in trouble. Sometimes protocol had to be thrown aside. It was true they had only been waiting for a couple of hours while the FBI found a judge to sign off on the warrant. But they were hours that Tony did not have.
In the meantime they were parked on the property of the Mountain State Inn waiting, watching—hoping for something to happen so they had probable cause to storm the place. Well maybe not storm it… but it's what Gibbs wanted to do once they got the warrant.
He had felt desperate for hours now. Knowing that his second in command was in the hands of a serial killer was torture in itself. Gibbs had no way of knowing it was going to come to this but he still felt a sense of failure at not protecting his team. He also felt guilty. And no matter how much he told himself this had been out of his control he knew he was not going to shake those feelings.
Tony was missing, in trouble because he had failed to keep him safe.
At least they knew where Wayne was… in the main lobby of the inn, manning the front desk like he did six nights a week. Like he had been doing last night when Tony walked in looking for shelter from the storm. There was some comfort in the knowledge, however, that as long as Wayne was there he was not out hurting Tony. If he even is still alive.
Gibbs shook his head to clear his thoughts. Tony had to be alive because he didn't want to think about what life was going to be like without Tony. Not for him or the team and certainly not for Leah and Jack.
"Hey. He's on the move," Fornell said, gesturing towards the front of the inn. "Should we follow him?"
"No, Tobias, I think I want to just sit here and wait for something to happen," Gibbs snapped, sarcastically. He threw open his door. "Yes! I want to follow him!"
Fornell grumbled as he followed. Gibbs was usually surly and hard to work with but with Tony in trouble… well that just made things even worse. It was only going to get worse as time went by that they hadn't found Tony. Shoving his hands into his pockets he jogged to catch up with the former marine and together they followed Wayne down a dark path towards a shed. Fornell's brow furrowed. Had the kid been keeping Tony in that shed the whole time?
Of course, logic would state that the kid was just going out there to put something away or get something… not check up on a hostage. But Fornell, or Gibbs for that matter, didn't always operate with logic. They operated with their guts and right now both the federal agents' guts were telling them that's where Tony was. Gibbs stopped and hid behind a large pine, watching as Wayne unlocked the padlock and entered the shed. Fornell looked confused. "You don't want to follow him?" he whispered.
"No," Gibbs replied. "I want to get Tony back alive."
"Jethro… we have the guy cornered…"
"Yeah… ever seen what a wild animal does when it's cornered, Tobias?"
Fornell had to admit that Gibbs was right and they really didn't know what kind of wild animal they were dealing with when it came to Wayne. He eased back and found a place to hide himself and watch. He wasn't sure what they were waiting for exactly. But he was admittedly just as alarmed as Gibbs when the kid came storming out of the shed, with a SIG in hand, looking ready to kill.
Had Tony given him the slip?
Gibbs felt ill looking at the hate filled look on Wayne's face as he turned and began to track something through the snow. "Come on," he told Fornell, making his way towards the shed and inside. There were signs that someone had been held there—a plate, a cup, a tattered and torn suitcoat—and blood. Immediately Gibbs recognized the suit coat as the one Tony had been wearing before heading out to West Virginia. "Tony," he whispered, looking about the small room, "Where the hell are you?"
"We should call a forensic team… have them test the blood."
"I'm going after Tony."
"Gibbs… we don't even know if he was here!"
"I do!" Gibbs shouted, holding up the suit coat. "This belongs to Tony! He left it here so I could find it."
Fornell sighed and looked around the room. "Ok… well… obviously he's injured. We don't know how much of a head start he's got on us. Oh and there's the problem of a crazy, psychotic serial killer after him! Lets not go out there guns blazing, gunning for Wayne. That could get your second killed. Is that what you want? Right now that deranged serial killer is worried about finding his prey. Who knows what he'll do to us if we stand in his way."
Gibbs snarled under his breath, checked to make sure he had enough rounds in his gun and then stalked out. "If I was the serial killer… I'd be more worried about me catching up to him."