The household was winding down after the evening's chaos, and even though the sun was coming up, everyone was ready for sleep. Luckily, the size of the house ensured that everyone would get their own room. Ziva, Tony, and Victoria had already gone to their rooms and were trying to fall asleep- with the night's activities, they had forgotten to stop by their hotel in Venice and get the agents' belongings, but Tim and Victoria had leant their human counterparts some clothes to sleep in. Ziva was a few inches taller than Victoria, but she appreciated the kind gesture and accepted the pajamas. There was an interesting tension between the agent and flightling- they never spoke directly to each other, each still wary and unsure of the other's character. But it was a step in the right direction that there was no longer anger or suspicion between the NCIS agents and the Clarks, simply hesitation or caution. After all, their relationship had gone from hunters and hunted to guests and hosts within a short time.
The only people still awake were Gibbs, McGee, and Apollo. Tim and the elder Clark were in the library. The fire was blazing, casting shadows over the flightlings' faces, which only seemed to intensify their identical expressions of anxiety. Tim sat on one of the large chairs, alternating between staring at the fire and watching his father figure. Apollo was pacing, his breaths coming in quick huffs. Although he'd said that he wouldn't worry about Thaddeus or the D'Amico family until he'd slept for a while, terrible memories were coming back to him in full force, washing over him in waves. Images of blood and gore, of his sister's mangled body…
Apollo was the most levelheaded man Tim knew, so it was very disconcerting to see him so frightened, so unhinged. McGee sighed, dragging his hands over his face. "What are we going to do?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know," Apollo choked out, stopping his pacing and turning to his son. "I don't know."
"He's taking humans off the street and imprisoning them," Tim said. "Did he do that when…when you…?"
"No, they never kept anyone down there. If they did take a person of the street, it was always over within the hour. No waiting. I don't…" the older man sighed. "I don't know what's going on over there."
The door creaked open and Gibbs appeared. Apollo and Tim both turned, McGee slowly rising from his chair.
"Boss…" Tim began, then realized his mistake. His ears and cheeks tinged red, but Gibbs wasn't bothered. In fact, he was somewhat touched. He'd grieved the loss of his agent, then was horrified to find that the young man had become one of the monsters he hunted. After they'd met again and found out that Tim hadn't changed in the slightest, but went out of his way to save his team members' lives…well, any little quirk that brought out the old McGee was more than welcome in Gibbs' eyes, even if the reticent agent would never show it. But that reminded him why he'd come to the library in the first place. There was some unresolved tension between the three of them; usually when someone had to talk with him, they showed up in his basement. But he was thousands of miles away from his basement.
"Hello, Agent Gibbs," Apollo greeted, doing his best to shake off his visible stress. Gibbs gave McGee a look he'd used on the younger man for years: it was a look that told Tim to leave them be for a little while.
"I…uh…I'm gonna go take a shower…" he said before ducking out of the library, sending Gibbs a quizzical look as he went.
The older flightling watched the exchange with a hint of amusement, marveling at how much influence Gibbs had over McGee. The respect the younger man had for his former boss was still evident every time Tim looked at Jethro.
Gibbs cleared his throat, unsure of how to begin. "I didn't thank you for saving us."
"Of course. I assume that you would have done the same for me; Tim cares about you all very much."
The agent nodded. "Cares about you too." He paused. "We thought you'd killed him. That's why we showed up at your party."
Knowing that this explanation was Gibbs' form of apology, Apollo nodded. "I understand. Especially considering my past with the D'Amico family, which I'm sure you have in a file somewhere. I remember you, Gibbs. You'd thought you killed me, didn't you?"
Gibbs nodded, coming closer to the fire. Apollo gestured to the table nearby, where several bottles and decanters of booze sat. Gibbs smirked slightly at the silent offering and poured himself a drink. "I did."
"Well, you came close," the eldest Clark smiled. Both men were very aware of how bizarre this all was. "When you shot me I fell into the water off that dock in New York. You were gone by the time I resurfaced and met up with Victoria. We moved here after that. To get away from hunters."
Jethro's brow furrowed, but Apollo shook his head. "Don't worry. I don't blame you. Especially given my…history with one of the most evil families in the world. Which is coming back to bite me, it seems."
Shaking off his distraction, the flightling gentlemen poured himself a drink and took a sip. "Well, we've come to an odd point. You tried to kill me back in New York, and then I tried to kill you when you at our party. Then you save my life on that rooftop, I help save you at the D'Amico house…Odd allies we turned out to be."
Gibbs smirked again and the two men shared a more comfortable silence. Tim entered, followed by a newly awake Victoria. Gibbs and Tim shared a look, and he made a note to resolve the tension he could feel with his former agent. He was glad that Tim had someone more open and eloquent he could look to as a father figure- god knew that his biological father had never been there for him. But Gibbs did still consider McGee one of his own, and their relationship mattered to him.
"Couldn't sleep," Victoria explained, sending a furtive glance at the only human in the room. Tim and Victoria looked so surreal standing next to each other, their eyes sparkling in the firelight.
"Neither could we," Apollo said, running his hand over his face.
Before they could discuss what to do about the D'Amicos, a powerful knock came on the front door of the mansion. Everyone glanced at the clock and realized that it wasn't all that surprising for there to a visitor- the sun was up. It was close to breakfast time.
"It's probably Simon," Apollo said. "I wonder if he's got any news."
"I'll get it," Victoria offered, exiting the library and heading for the front door. No one really gave it a second thought; no one worried about who might be behind the door. Who with malicious intent knocks on your door at breakfast time? It's because of this that Victoria had her guard down, and was completely unprepared for the person on the other side of the door.
Thaddeus was somewhat surprised to see an angelic young flightling open the door to the Clark residence. Apollo had been around the block with many gorgeous women in his time with the D'Amico clan, but he'd never been the type for women so much younger than him. The girl seemed to know, or at least sense, who and what he was. He masked his curiosity with a charming smile. The hair on Victoria's neck stood on end, and she instinctively stood as tall as she could, defensive.
Thaddeus pretended that he was unaware of her wariness. "Good morning. Is this the Clark residence?"
Victoria was trying to decide whether or not to lie when Apollo's voice emerged from the library. "Who is it, Victoria?" he called, echoing across the grand ballroom-foyer.
The young woman went stiff when she and Thaddeus heard the sound. It was clear that the stranger knew Apollo by his voice, and smiled wider. He stepped to the door, gently pushed it open and stepped past her, though Victoria did not miss the concealed force by which he got his way in. The young woman closed the door and followed behind Thaddeus, knowing without being told that this man was the nightmare Apollo had told her of.
In the library, Gibbs and the two flightlings were confused when Victoria didn't answer Apollo's call.
"What could possibly-" the eldest Clark began, when the door to the library opened. Apollo turned to see what Victoria had to say when Thaddeus D'Amico stepped into the room.
Equal parts horror and rage ripped through Apollo, sending shudders down his body, through his toes and up his back. His wings shot open, stretching to their full height, and arching over his body as an unconscious protective motion. The larger feathers seemed to spread out and stand on end, the way hair would on someone's arm when they're afraid. Tim was the second to turn, and he froze when he saw who it was. He knew, not from the man's aura and appearance but from Apollo's reaction, exactly who they were dealing with. Instinct told him to either run from this threat, or to attack it before they were all killed.
Gibbs, even from the limited information he had on this man, knew a threat when he saw one. His impulse was to draw a gun and train it on the man in the doorway, but his gun was in his hotel room in Venice.
Thaddeus smirked at the reaction he evoked from the room's occupants. Knowing that no one would speak until he did. "Hello, Apollo," he said.
"Thaddeus," Apollo practically growled, his wings flicking against the tension. In the silence, Gibbs watched McGee's wings slowly unfold, and the young man stepped forward, unthinkingly putting himself in front of his former boss and close by his surrogate father, prepared to protect them from whatever D'Amico intended to do.
Victoria stepped into the library from behind Thaddeus. The ancient flightling made eye contact with her as she went and smiled, sending shivers down her body. He was at once terrifying and charming…he was more abyss than man. Even without his wings exposed, he let the room know how powerful and destructive he could be.
Thad glanced at Gibbs and raised one eyebrow. The agent bristled under his gaze. "It appears you have something of mine."
"On the contrary," Apollo said, spitting out each word. "You kidnapped several men and women from the streets of Venice. A couple of which happened to be members of my family."
Gibbs was surprised to hear himself and Ziva described as members of the Clark family, but he did nothing, knowing it hardly mattered in this situation.
"I thought it might be you who stole my prisoners," came the lighthearted reply. Thaddeus strolled to the fire and sat in the same chair that Tim had occupied only a short time before, glancing at Tim and Victoria. "Call off your body guards, Apollo. Relax, son," he said, speaking directly to McGee. "Your wings will snap off."
Apollo glanced at McGee and nodded, encouraging him not to panic. Tim dropped his wings but didn't fold them away. Victoria came to stand next to her brother, and Thaddeus examined them both in interest. The tension in the room was palpable.
"I thought you were dead," Thad continued, slowly shifting his focus from the younger Clarks to their father figure.
"I thought the same about you," Apollo said. "What have you been up to? What's this ceremony I've heard about?"
"Nice try old friend," Thaddeus chuckled darkly. "But that's not for you to know. I'm just trying to rebuild my family." He glanced at Tim, Victoria and Gibbs again. "As you have….So how many are there amongst your new family? Where's that young lady with the necklace? It had your crest, you know. That's what gave you away."
"I wasn't hiding," Apollo said.
The taller man finally decided to acknowledge his friend's demeanor. "You're looking unwell, Apollo. Stressed. You've aged a little bit. Not much of course. Only a year or two's difference."
"You haven't aged a day. In fact you look younger. But that's what murdering people does." Apollo continued. "Is that what you've been gathering prisoners for? Is that why dozens of flightlings have gone missing from Venice?"
Thaddeus smirked. "I taught you that trick, don't try to play it on me. But that does remind me of why I came here." He stood and poured himself a drink. "I came to see if you were in fact the one who costed me my prisoners. And killed two of my guards. Actually I came to see if you were even alive…" he smiled. "It really is good to see you, Apollo. Brings back memories." Apollo's wings quivered slightly.
"But you see, now we have a very serious problem," the older man continued, his voice even and almost playful. Apollo was very familiar with Thaddeus' methods; he liked to play with his prey, especially when he was furious. And even though he didn't show it, he was furious now. "You of all people know that I don't like it when someone steals from me. I've killed for less- you've seen me do it. And it seems that you and your little band of vigilantes stole my personal belongings."
Tim's jaw clenched, but Apollo raised an eyebrow. "Have you come here to threaten me or to kill me, Thad?"
"You know, at first I was going to kill whoever it was who caused me so much trouble. But then I found that it was you," Thaddeus smiled again. "I owed you my life, once upon a time. We were friends. And of course your poor sister…" he saw the crazed expression on Apollo's face and relished it greatly. "Well, let's just say I owe you one. Besides, my followers did snatch your…family members. That one's on me. So why don't we call it even? I'll leave you and all the members of the Clark family alone. No, I'll leave the entirety of Valero Notte alone. I give my word. You know I'm a man of my word."
"But?" Apollo snarled, knowing there would be a catch.
"Ah, here's the part where I threaten you," Thaddeus said. "I promise to leave Valero Notte alone. But." his voice took an even lower pitch. Growling for the first time since he arrived, he said, "If you, or any of your family members, ever interfere with my business…if they are even caught within the city limits of Venice, I'll kill every last one of your family members, again. I will break you in half."
Victoria and Tim's wings both snapped up in anger. Apollo wanted so badly to grab the fire poker and end the man standing in front of him. It would be justified, at the very least. But he knew that the moment he even moved, Thaddeus would kill them all without blinking. The patriarch of the Clark family had watched his old friend kill more powerful, better equipped attackers- a whole group of them- singlehandedly.
Thaddeus knew the look of defeat in his old friend's eyes, and nodded. "There you go. A long life of comfort and safety. Of course, I could use a man in my ranks who actually knows what he's doing. Most of my new men and women don't have any experience in anything but hasty, messy violence. Most of them aren't from good families….Although it seems to me that you've found two excellent specimens here." He moved towards McGee and Victoria, studying them like pieces of art. They said nothing but allowed him to inspect them, sharing silent glances as he did. "These wings are classically shaped. I haven't seen any like these in centuries, save those from your family or mine." He stood a full three inches over Tim. "What's your name, son?"
Tim resented the disrespect, but his mild nature forced him to respond. "Timothy."
"You've got an intelligent look about you. I could always use someone like you in my ranks." He moved on to Victoria. "And you. Well, you're absolutely marvelous. I'd appreciate having you around as well."
Gibbs was beginning to resent being treated like he wasn't there, but he knew that it was in his best interest. He watched McGee and Victoria purse their lips, and Apollo's wings flicked again at the idea of his worst enemy recruiting his loved ones. "Leave them be," he ordered.
Thaddeus stepped back. "Well, if you change your minds, I'd be happy to have you." He looked at Apollo. "I'll be going, I've got lots to do."
Nodding at everyone, even Gibbs, he stepped towards the library door. "Good day, everyone."
They watched him leave, listened as his footsteps echoed across the floor, and breathed a collective huff of relief when the front door closed.
Apollo, Tim and Victoria all folded away their wings, sore from holding them up so intensely. It was silent, until Apollo closed his eyes and whispered a broken, "My god."