Thanks everyone, for all the nice comments. This is the final chapter but I plan to write another story in this world. Meanwhile, I encourage all readers to check out the other stories written for the NCIS ficathon.
CHAPTER 6
Gibbs quickly donned his raincoat and a waterproof hat. His boots were covered in dried mud and straw, and would be hell to clean by the time he finally got to them, but he pulled them on and was out the door before he had second thoughts about leaving Tony behind. Gibbs heard the lock click behind him and he turned to see Tony, safe inside, giving a small wave goodbye.
It was cold and wet, but the wind was fresh, and in a couple of hours the sun would rise upon a day that the weatherman had promised would be bright and warm after the storm. Gibbs kept an eye out for anything amiss as he walked to the barn. The ground was sodden and there were huge puddles everywhere. His feet sank inches deep in the mud, but the indentations quickly filled with water and the rain soon washed his footprints away. Even if Frank Beals had had the nerve to trespass, and fool around with the barn door, there would be no evidence of his being there.
Before going into the barn, Gibbs looked back at the house. The only light was coming from the porch; the rest of the house was in darkness.
Inside the barn was even darker than the rainy night, so Gibbs pulled out his flashlight. Several sets of eyes watched his progress as he slowly made his way down the aisle between the stalls. The horses were surprisingly quiet, considering how skittish some of them were. They nickered and blew out their nostrils in greeting, and Gibbs made a point to gently stroke their velvety soft noses as he had a look around. The barn was big, and someone could be hiding up in the loft, but Gibbs had a sense that he was the only two-footed creature in the barn at that moment. He checked the latches on all the stalls and said, "Night, boys and girls," as he went out and shut the door securely behind him.
The catch on the large door was in perfect working order, so Gibbs surmised that the storm's strong winds could have made the old boards shift and bend just enough to cause the door to pop open. It could have happened that way, but he didn't quite believe that it had.
He shook his head and made his way back to the house. After scraping some of the mud off his boots on the old iron boot-scraper beside the back door, Gibbs rapped his knuckles on the locked door and called, "Tony, I'm back!" There was no reply and no sound of movement within the house. Without thinking, Gibbs tried the doorknob. It turned easily and the door swung open.
Gibbs was about to remove his muddy boots when he looked down at the tray where he usually placed them. The boots that Tony had worn when he'd arrived, the boots that had belonged to the kidnapper, the ones that Tony had stripped off the dead man's feet – were gone.
His heart doing double-time, Gibbs tore off his coat and hat and tossed them aside. He pulled his gun and flicked the safety off, then slowly eased along the hall to the kitchen, keeping his weapon at eye level as he cleared each room. He was about to enter the living room when he heard the noise, a strangled sound, and he flattened himself against the wall near the open doorway.
Gibbs called out, "Tony? You okay?"
There was some shuffling, then Gibbs heard a struggle and a sharp cry immediately followed by a blow and a grunt. Enough was enough, he thought, and he called out, "I'm coming in, Beals." Raising his gun, Gibbs slowly moved into the living room.
Beals, who was wearing the boots Tony had taken off him earlier, was standing behind Tony, one arm around his neck, the other pressing a knife against his side. Both of Tony's hands were grasping Beals' arm, trying to get him to ease his stranglehold, to no avail. Tony turned to his eyes Gibbs and emitted small sounds of panic.
"Let him go," Gibbs ordered, keeping his gun aimed at the man who had kidnapped Tony.
"You cannot tell me what to do, you fucker!" Beals spat. His arm tightened around Tony's neck and Tony's eyelids flickered. Gibbs could see that he was close to losing consciousness. Beals kept moving; no way could he get a clear shot. The risk was too great.
"You're choking him," Gibbs said.
"Good! This fag thinks he can get away with what he did to me? Nobody ever hits me! He's got another thing coming!" Beals continued to spew angrily, all the time taking steps backwards and forcing Tony along with him. "You come any closer and I'll kill him, cut him into little pieces," Beals threatened. He pushed the knife harder against Tony's side, making Tony cry out.
Gibbs realized that Beals was heading for the door on the far side of the living room. It led to the front hall, but if Beals thought he could escape out that way, he was mistaken. The floorboards of the front porch were rotted through and unsafe, and it wouldn't take much weight for them to go crashing through.
Beals was going on about divorce and honest workers losing jobs, and how local government was getting out of control and subverting people's rights, and "if you freaks think we're gonna sit still while you ass-fuck our country down the drain, you got another thing coming!"
Gibbs raised his voice to counter the tirade. "Let Tony go, Beals. You can't make it out of here with him."
"Oh no, I'm not letting this fuck go. He's mine! They take me seriously now that I've got their fancy politician. Now they're ready to bargain with me! Now they can't treat me like some piece of dirt! You people don't…don't get it…" Beals' eyes were wild and he seemed confused about what he was doing, but he never let up the pressure on Tony's neck. Beals kept talking, about his mother and his family and how everyone had always been against him, but to Gibbs, it was just background noise.
Beals might intend to use Tony as a bargaining chip for whatever his agenda might be, but he'd already made it clear when he'd held Tony in the trailer that he was going to kill him. Now Beals had shown his face, he'd surely be more desperate than ever, and would have no compunction about killing anyone who got in his way.
Instead of wasting his breath reasoning with the man, Gibbs kept his eyes on Tony, trying to convey that he needed to remain calm, that he'd take the guy out and then Tony would be safe. Tony blinked at Gibbs, a small sign of trust. Gibbs hoped to hell he could live up to it.
Beals backed up into the unlit hallway. He forced Tony to open the front door, never easing the chokehold he had on him. The front door swung open in the wind and rain blew in. For a moment his hold on Tony's neck must have lessened; Tony started to struggle anew and elbowed Beals, but the man tightened his grip.
Gibbs followed them, gun at the ready, waiting for the right moment to take Beals out. He watched anxiously as Tony was dragged onto the unstable porch, knowing the danger there. Once more Gibbs called out, "Release him now, Beals," but the kidnapper ignored him and quickly moved onto the rickety porch.
Beals and Tony only made it a few steps when, under the combined weight, the rotten boards gave way. Beals fell into a gaping hole with a scream, and as the old wood gave way, Gibbs leaped forward and grabbed Tony's arm. He hauled Tony back into the house and they tumbled into the hall, falling in an ungainly heap. Gibbs didn't want to let go of Tony, but he was gasping for air, so he scrambled to his feet and pulled Tony with him.
Gibbs looked back at Beals, who was chest-deep in a jagged hole; he was pinned by broken boards and screaming his head off. He'd probably broken a leg, from the sound it. It was unlikely that Tony's kidnapper could extricate himself from the collapsed porch, and Gibbs was tempted to leave the guy for the time being. The last thing he wanted to do was rescue the man, but there was a windowless storeroom in the basement with a sturdy door; he'd feel better if the man was under lock and key until the authorities arrived.
Gibbs was worried because Tony was doubled up, coughing badly, his eyes watering and his breathing ragged. "C'mon," Gibbs urged, trying once again to get him to the safety of the living room where he could sit down, but Tony made it clear that he didn't want to go.
After holstering his gun, Gibbs slid his arm around Tony's waist, but Tony frantically shook his head. He kept trying to say something, and after a couple of attempts he managed to gasp, "He's…got…gun!"
Gibbs instinctively shoved Tony behind him as he drew his gun and aimed it in Beals' direction. Beals, still stuck in the grip of the broken boards, was struggling, not to get free but to pull a concealed gun from his coat. "Don't!" shouted Gibbs.
Beals raised his revolver and shot in Gibbs' and Tony's direction. Tony hauled Gibbs out of the line of fire, and they both scrambled into the living room as bullets flew around them, hitting the walls and ceiling. The hundred year-old glass lamp hanging high in the hall shattered and glass exploded everywhere. Gibbs shielded Tony with his own body, but a second later, Gibbs turned and fired, emptying the clip into Beals' body.
When the smoke cleared, Beals was dead.
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
The weatherman was right. Once the sun rose it promised to be a beautiful day. At 0600 the power came back on and an hour later the phone lines came back online as well.
Gibbs sat on his couch, so close to Tony their shoulders touched. They pretty much hadn't moved for the past couple of hours, except to make a huge pot of coffee for Gibbs, and tea with honey for Tony to sip on. Tony gave a contented sigh and leaned a little more into Gibbs, and in response, Gibbs shifted a little to accommodate Tony's weight.
"You ready for the massing hordes?" asked Gibbs. "FBI, TV crews, hell, you'll probably get a call from the President."
Reluctantly, Tony nodded and handed Gibbs the phone.
Gibbs held it in his hand, but didn't make any attempt to dial it.
"What's the matter?" Tony asked, eyeing Gibbs.
"Just thinking."
"About what?"
Gibbs looked at the phone for a bit, and then shrugged. "I liked having you here," he admitted.
Tony chuckled and coughed a couple of times. "And I liked being here," he whispered. "I mean, apart from the obvious reasons, like the way you took me in, patched me up, and saved me from a crazy kidnapper."
Gibbs couldn't hide his smile. "Yeah, apart from all that." There was nothing more to say, and although he hated doing it, he pressed the appropriate buttons on the phone. When it was picked up at the other end, he said, "Fornell? I've think I've got someone here you've been looking for. Yeah, Tony DiNozzo. He just turned up on my doorstep last night, looking like a drowned rat." Tony poked his ribs. "Ow! Yes, Tobias, he really is the congressman. What's he look like?" Gibbs leaned back a little and frowned at Tony. "Fancy haircut, green eyes, good looking, and he knows it. My height…plus an inch. Is he hurt? Uh…"
Tony shook his head vehemently, but Gibbs just scowled at him. "He's got bruises, contusions on his torso, neck, head…Yeah, I guess he could use a doctor." Gibbs chuckled. "He's quite scrappy, I've been told. Hey, don't scare the horses when you come; no sirens and stay outside the gate. Oh, and one more thing? Do you know some jerkoff who goes by the name Frank Beals?" He listened for a bit and spoke aloud for Tony's sake. "His mother's Marian Tozier? Who's she? She's running for governor? Uh huh, a nut job. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?" Gibbs could see Tony's eyes light up with an ahah moment.
"How do I know Beals? Well, he's sitting out on my front porch. No, he can't get away, Tobias. Because I say so." Gibbs pulled a face and sighed. "All right, it's because he's full of holes, that's why. No, I'm not going anywhere." Gibbs disconnected and tossed the phone onto the coffee table.
Tony tugged at Gibbs' arm for attention and once Gibbs leaned close, Tony whispered, "I'm not going anywhere either."
Gibbs smiled slowly. "Hell, I knew that."
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
Gibbs leaned against the doorway of his living room, holding an ice pack to his shoulder. He'd done some damage to it when pulling Tony out of Beals' grip, but a bit of pain was a small price to pay for Tony's safety.
Standing out of the way, Gibbs watched Congressman DiNozzo's chief of staff, and a woman named Lydia who had been identified as his press secretary, trying to convince Tony to make a statement to the press before he went to the hospital. Due to Tony's damaged throat and his inability to speak any louder than a whisper, he was making his opinions known by gestures. Gibbs translated the hand movements to mean Tony was fine and did not want to go to any damn hospital.
In addition to Tony's staff members, Senator DiNozzo, Tony's father, and three paramedics were crowding Tony, who was sitting on the couch. DiNozzo Sr. was even more of an asshole in person than on TV, if that was possible. He was on the phone, trying to arrange an emergency airlift to transport his son to Bethesda, and was demanding a top ENT surgeon to be at the ready.
Apparently, Tony's soon-to-be-ex-wife, Wendy, had chosen not to join the media circus, according to DiNozzo Sr., who Gibbs had seen earlier preening before the cameras. Tony said something in a barely-there voice about Danny DeVito and ruthless people that had one of the EMTs laughing. It took a minute before Gibbs realized it was a movie reference.
The paramedics had immediately treated Tony for his worsening cough and shortness of breath, using some kind of nebulizer, and it had diminished greatly. They were concerned about the bruising to his throat, and found he had an elevated temperature, and were trying to transfer him onto a waiting gurney for the trip to the local emergency department. Tony, apparently, did not want to go.
Fornell stood next to Gibbs, keeping an eye on Tony, too. "His father tried bargaining with the kidnapper. Not an unacceptable practice, but it was like he was shopping in a bargain basement," he said with disgust.
"Did he pay the ransom?"
Fornell shook his head. "The congressman's staff had instructions in case of kidnapping: recover the victim, and worry about the money later. Besides, he carries kidnapping insurance," he said with a slight smile.
Gibbs looked sideways at Fornell. "This wasn't only about money."
"Oh, no. Turns out the congressman here won the last three elections against Beals' older brother, Robert. Or half-brother, I should say. DiNozzo is likely to win again if he tries for a fourth term, but he is friends with Robert, who's his main opponent. Sources told us that Beals went off the deep end when he found out DiNozzo was spending time with his brother, speaking out and supporting gay rights alongside him. They were coordinating a movement to outlaw conversion therapy at a federal level."
Gibbs frowned at the implication and asked, "This half-brother has a different last name?"
"Tozier."
"Like the mother? You said she's running for Governor?"
"That's the one. She's been a strong advocate for conversion therapy for youths to change sexual orientation – and we're not talking about prayer and counseling here. She runs a youth counseling service and her weekly YouTube program has a huge following. Apparently her son, Robert Tozier, won't have anything to do with her; he's the only sane one in the family."
"And Tony's friendship with Robert pushed Frank Beals over the edge?"
Fornell shrugged. "Congressman DiNozzo is a very popular man, and a lot of people listen to him."
Gibbs caught a glimpse of Tony between the people crowding around him, and he took in the stubborn expression on Tony's face. It was time he did something about the situation. With a sigh, he pushed himself off the wall but he hadn't taken two steps before Fornell took hold of his arm.
"You sure you know what you're getting into, Jethro?" Fornell asked with a smirk.
Gibbs snorted. "If you're trying to warn me off, Tobias, you're too late."
Fornell raised an eyebrow. "It's like that, is it?"
Impatiently, Gibbs brushed him off. "It isn't like anything. I'm just gonna watch his back."
"You mean someone called in the Marines?"
"Semper fi, Tobias," Gibbs said. He handed Fornell the melting ice pack and pushed his way through the people hovering around Tony.
The moment Tony laid eyes on Gibbs, he held out a hand and said in hoarse voice, "Get me out of here."
It took a combination of stern glares and physically moving bodies to get the people to move back. Fornell guided Senator DiNozzo outside, citing better cell reception. Tony's two staff members obeyed his instructions to sit in the kitchen to write a short statement – he just pointed and Gibbs said, "Get out." – which left the three medics. Gibbs ascertained that Tony wasn't in any immediate danger, and convinced them that the gurney wasn't necessary. "He can walk out, and get into the ambulance on his own," Gibbs said.
Tony grabbed Gibbs' sleeve and said, "Nooo," in a raspy voice. He sent Gibbs a look that spoke volumes, saying quite clearly he'd been betrayed.
"Look, I've got to go to the ER anyway," Gibbs said with an unconcerned shrug.
Tony looked him up and down and asked, "You hurt?"
Gibbs turned, just enough so Tony could see his back. He'd felt the warm trickle of blood on his back some time ago, ever since Beals had shot out the light in the front hall, and there was a sharp pain jabbing him somewhere below his shoulder blade. Tony struggled to his feet, and Gibbs turned back just in time to grab him.
Tony looked just as pale as when he'd first turned up on Gibbs' doorstep, about 12 hours ago, but he refused to be seated. "You're not going alone," said Tony. He reached for the zippered sweatshirt with MARINES emblazoned across the chest, looking a little sheepish when Gibbs helped him put it on. "It's okay?" asked Tony, searching Gibbs' face for approval.
"Looks good on you. Let's get this show on the road," Gibbs said, not looking to deeply for the reason why he liked seeing Tony wearing his clothes. He indicated Tony's staff emerging from the kitchen, carrying a piece of paper. "Looks like your people have written up something for you to say. You sure you're up for this?"
Tony read over the short statement, nodded, and said in as a loud a whisper as he could manage, "I am if you read it for me, Jethro."
"Me? Oh no! No way."
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~
The front porch was taped off as a crime scene and the ME was just removing the body, so when Gibbs gave in and agreed to read the prepared statement, he stood beside a bruised and battered Tony on the back porch of Kelly Brook Farm, and spoke to a sizable crowd of journalists and TV cameras. The news people jostled each other for a good spot, and many of them ended up standing in the large, muddy puddles that covered the front yard and driveway.
As far as off-the-cuff speeches went, it wasn't bad. Gibbs read aloud in a strong, clear voice, that Congressman DiNozzo wanted to thank all the law enforcement agencies who had tirelessly searched for him. It went on for a bit and winded up saying that the congressman appreciated the support of his family and everyone who had shown such deep concern and faith, but most of all, he…"
At that point, Gibbs hesitated, and Tony took hold of a microphone someone offered him. Speaking in a low, husky voice, Tony said to a suddenly hushed assembly, "I am well aware that the only reason I am here speaking…well, whispering to you, is because this man, a US Marine, former NCIS Special Agent, and the owner of this fine horse rescue, took a chance and opened his door to me on a dark and stormy night. I'd quote a line from Scary Movie at this point, but I have to wind this up before my voice gives out on me."
The audience, even the most cynical of reporters, laughed and applauded, and Tony coughed and waved away the barrage of questions they shouted at him and Gibbs. The paramedics took the opportunity to sweep in and guided both Tony and Jethro to the waiting ambulance.
It wasn't until they were on the way to the hospital, and the medic had finished fussing with Tony's IV and oxygen, that Tony turned his head to look into Gibbs' eyes. He said something but Gibbs didn't catch it; the oxygen mask covering the lower part of Tony's face made it hard to hear what he was saying. Seated on the other gurney, Gibbs leaned forward.
His voice muffled, Tony said, "I never got to meet your horses."
Gibbs smiled and stroked Tony's hair back from his forehead. "You can come and visit any time."
"I can?" Tony's eyes shone with pleasure.
"Sure. I'd like that."
Tony smiled tiredly. "Me, too. Thanks for…"
"For what?"
"For letting the wet cat in," Tony said.
"Apparently I collect strays," Gibbs said.
Tony seemed amused. "Is that what I am?"
"No…no, not any more. You're always welcome in my home, Tony," Gibbs said, truly meaning it. Tony smiled and fell asleep, and as they headed for the hospital, it struck Gibbs that Abby and Palmer, and the guy from the service station with the replacement part for his truck, would all be arriving at the farm right about now. Abby was going to be out of her mind with worry. No matter, someone would tell them what had gone on last night, and after Abby freaked out, she'd call McGee and Ducky, and the others, and they'd all converge on the hospital. He'd get a big hug and a lecture from Abby, and then he'd introduce them to Tony.
Gibbs was well aware that he never would have met Tony if he hadn't taken a chance and bought Kelly Brook Farm. The quote that Shannon liked came to mind, the one about how sometimes the smallest choices have the biggest impact. Opening the door and meeting Tony was just the beginning; Tony was going to be a major part in his life from now on – of that, Gibbs was certain. And although he wasn't the kind of man to be sentimental, Gibbs took a moment to close his eyes and whisper, "You were right, Shannon. You were so right."
~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~ the end ~ • ~ ~ • ~ ~ • ~