McGee could hardly shake the guilt that was threatening to consume him. It seeped into the edges of every thought, like the water that he could hear lapping up against the stones outside. This was his fault.

Alright…so it wasn't really his fault, but nothing could convince him otherwise at the moment. His family -both the agents, and the flightlings- were trapped in this basement, and it never would have happened if not for him. If he hadn't gotten himself shot all those months ago during the case, he never would have found out he was a flightling. Tony and Ziva never would have become hunters, putting themselves in danger to fight off creatures that had no right being in this world. Victoria and Apollo would have lived their lives in peace; they would probably be on a tour around Europe or America, visiting their friends. Team Gibbs never would have risked their lives to return to Italy to avenge him, and hunters wouldn't have come to attack the Clarks.

Deep down, he knew that he was a flightling whether he liked it or not. And he really did like it. He'd never known happiness and acceptance of this magnitude until he'd met Victoria and Apollo. He'd been so awkward and out of place in his biological family, and now he was strong and more confident in his abilities. He wouldn't trade this for the world. But even after all of these things, which had been beyond his control, there were other chances he'd had of keeping his loved ones safe: he could have gone back to America immediately after changing. Sure, he hadn't remembered much of his old life, but it would have come back to him if he'd just been brave enough to return to Washington D.C. He could have insisted that Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs go back home once they found out he was alive. He could have gone with them. Then Victoria and Apollo would still be left in peace, and the agents would have returned to work, only slightly shaken up by the whole experience. To be honest, they'd dealt with weirder things than one of their own gaining a few new superpowers.

Even then, he still could have done something. He could have accompanied his former teammates to Venice. No one would have abducted the agents had a flightling been there to protect them. He could have insisted that Victoria and Apollo stayed behind while he and Tony went to save Jethro and Ziva. They all could have gone back to the United States as soon as they were safe- Thaddeus would have come to the Clark house to find it empty and would have left everyone alone. Tim could have done a better job handling the fight over the Valero Notte harbor…if he and Victoria hadn't been so injured, they would have gotten away faster. They would have won the battle at Simon's house.

And the six of them wouldn't be in cells in the basement of their enemy's home, desperately trying to come up with plans to escape.

Sure, he knew that this new family he'd accidentally created would do anything for him, just as McGee would do anything for them. And yes, they were all adults who had agreed to everything that he'd done so far. He wasn't the leader of this group by any means. But he knew that he was the thing that brought them together. He was what they had in common. They had followed him into this when there had been a hundred chances to save themselves from this end. Even though they all had a personal stake in this conflict; whether it be because of their past or even just their need to do what's right, every one of them had been sucked into it because they knew him.

Despite this, he knew Apollo was being eaten up with guilt too, since his past with Thaddeus was part of the reason that the man was so hell bent on killing them. Oddly enough, Tim and Victoria had the overwhelming urge to protect their adoptive father from harm, emotional or physical. Never mind the fact that Apollo was much older, and had years of experience fighting hunters and other flightlings alike. Never mind the fact that he was strong; he'd seen tragedy and war and could handle a little heartbreak. He was refined, gentle and all around a goodhearted man. Although they were fully-grown adults, he was their father-figure. Family doesn't hinge on the amount of time you know someone or on genes, but on love, trust, and respect. They'd both known their real dads, but in the years that Victoria had known him, and in the (almost) half a year that Tim had known him, Apollo had given them all the love and mentoring that they'd never known from their real parents. So, yes, he was for all intents and purposes their father. And yet both felt the need to protect him like he was the younger of the three; to soften the blows of this situation. He didn't need it, but they did it anyway.

Tim's other father-figure was of course Jethro, who had shaped him into the man he was today. And again, though Gibbs didn't need it, McGee felt the instinct to protect him above all else. Was this territorial business a flightling thing? No, probably not. It was just McGee's impulse to protect those he loved above all else. It was a family thing.

So it was so painful to stare across the little space that separated them: Apollo was in one cell by himself, and all three agents had been put in the cell next to him. Directly across from Team Gibbs was McGee, and on his left, Victoria was in her own cubicle. They made a small square of four in this cavernous space. It wasn't the same room that Ziva and Gibbs had been placed in before. This was still part of the basement, but it was a different room, a different cell block. They were the only ones in this part of the dungeon; the human prisoners, assuming they were still alive, must have been in their own cell block- presumably the one they had been rescued from before.

Much like last time, each cell was separated by stone walls so that prisoners could not reach each other. However, they could see the people across from them, since the other wall was only made of bars.

They had been there for almost a full day, having been shoved into these cages as the sun was coming up… it was once again night time. Gibbs' watch had been broken in the fighting, but Tony's still worked and indicated that it was close to 10 PM. They'd spent their time assessing wounds and thinking up ways to escape. DiNozzo suffered a cracked rib and a generous amount of bruising. He'd been punched in the face by a flightling, so the large knot on his temple wasn't too surprising, even if it did hurt like hell. Ziva's shoulder had been torn open, but she'd survived far worse. Gritting her teeth through the pain, the ex-Mossad agent had pressed a hand to the wound until the bleeding had slowed and eventually stopped altogether. Victoria's graze from a wayward bullet had already begun to heal, and the bruising around Tim's neck was starting to fade. Gibbs had been largely unharmed save a few cuts and bruises, but it was Apollo who'd suffered the worst of it. His right wing had been shredded in some places by bullets, and while it hurt like hell, it had stopped bleeding. It didn't mean he'd be flying any time soon, but he wasn't in immediate danger…well, not from his wounds, anyway.

Since there were no guards in the room with them, the six had spoken freely, tossing ideas of escape back and forth. But by ten in the evening, no one had come up with any feasible plan, and their conversations were becoming fewer and farther between. Really, all they could do was wait.

Their waiting was over some time before ten thirty, as the thick bolt on one of the doors slid back and the door opened. A small handful of guards entered, along with the man they followed and admired so intently.

"Hello, everyone," Thaddeus greeted as he stepped into the space. Six pairs of eyes glared back at him, but he continued on. "I apologize for taking so long to come and visit you, I've been busy, though my…chores have been finished for the night."

"Taking a break from destroying the city of Venice?" McGee snapped, though he was surprised at his boldness. Despite his good looks and impressive presence, this man made everything inside of him recoil, and he could hardly contain it.

"I take exception to that. But yes, as a matter of fact, I am taking a break. I'd had some… family matters planned, but thanks to your interference the other week, I had to push those plans back while I did some damage control, and lay low for a while."

"Any chance of you telling us what those plans are…?" Apollo asked. His hopes were that if they knew what Thad had in store, they could either hatch some sort of scheme to put a stop to it, or at least use the information to help them escape. However, it seemed D'Amico read his mind. In fact, he seemed to relish knowing something they didn't.

"Well, seeing as they don't concern you at the moment, what would be the purpose?"

"Are you ever going to tell us what it is, or will you just hold it over our heads for eternity? You've never gotten satisfaction from keeping secrets, only from revealing them."

"Ah, but I can keep a good secret, you know that," Thaddeus said with a small smile. He knew very well that Apollo was speaking to him with contempt and hostility, but he chose to banter back as if they were still old friends playfully arguing about something insignificant. "…And it's only fun to give up secrets at the right time. They're more powerful that way."

"You're like a girl in high school," Tony quipped.

Thaddeus looked over at the agents for the first time since their arrival. Gibbs gave DiNozzo a look that suggested he take an eternal vow of silence, and Ziva appeared ready to make that a reality.

"Why are you down here, if you aren't going to tell us?" Victoria interrupted, hoping to distract him from the much more fragile agents and sending Tony a look that matched Jethro's.

"I came to talk to you two, actually," the older man said, turning his back on Apollo and Team Gibbs.

Neither had to ask why; they knew exactly what he wanted from them. And he seemed to realize this, because he started with, "I know I've already offered once or twice before, but now that you're here you might consider joining me."

Tim frowned. "With all due respect, you holding us in your basement is not exactly good incentive."

"True, I admit. But you'll forgive me if I take precautions. It's not wise to let something out of its cage until you're sure it won't turn on you."

McGee was tempted to remind the man that they weren't animals to be tamed, but held it in, knowing that would only earn him more trouble.

"Anyway, it's a good bargain; I get two able-bodied young people with good genes on my side, and you get to live in comfort, upstairs, for…oh, at least the next thousand years?"

"Does it really matter to you what our answer will be?" Tim challenged.

"Look, son, my plans have lots of interchangeable parts. When you're working on as grand a scale as I am, you can't be too inflexible. If you are, then your entire plan falls apart when one little thing goes wrong. It's the big picture I'm worried about. It took me a hundred years to finally realize that little details will only get in the way."

"Which is why this palace is falling apart. Little details like your parents' beloved home will only get in the way," Apollo said, his voice as sharp as glass. Somewhere deep down, this seemed to strike a chord, as for the first time, Tim saw genuine emotion flicker in Thad's eyes as he turned to glare at Apollo.

"I know I've been fairly vague about what I'm trying to do," he said, fully enunciating each word and pulling a key from his pocket. He unlocked the cell door, entering to stand in front of Apollo. He was several inches taller and of course far more intimidating, but the eldest Clark didn't flinch or even blink. "But all that I've done has been in the service of continuing my family's legacy."

"Maybe," Apollo said. "But what is it all for? Your entire family lived like monsters, but they were still a family. You can't ever have that again. You've given up too much. Look what you've become. More void than man."

Thaddeus regarded him for half a moment in silence, his face a neutral and almost curious mask, as if he were going to take Apollo's words to heart. Then, faster than humanly possible, his hand was at the shorter man's throat, and he had him by the neck. He lifted him and shoved him against the wall with his one hand. He didn't do it to really injury Apollo, he just did it to startle him; to remind him that he was far weaker. Tim and Victoria both reacted in horror, pressing themselves up against the bars of their cells, and while the agents couldn't see what was going on for the wall, they could hear Apollo's gasps, and given Tim and Victoria's expressions, they knew it wasn't good. Still it only lasted for a few seconds, and then Thaddeus dropped his old friend, allowing him to double over and catch his breath with loud coughs.

"You're not exactly clean of conscience. A whole year in my company, and not some inconsiderable offenses of your own."

"If you're trying to turn my family against me," Apollo huffed between breaths, "it won't work. They know I was a part of your group for a while. They know I did some reprehensible things. But I never stole a soul."

"Ah, yes, but I'll bet that deep down, it kills you to think that your beloved sister did. That she married me and became exactly what I am- whatever it is that you think separates us, separates you from Maria. You can't stand the thought of it, can you?"

The visible flinch this solicited was confirmation enough. Thaddeus grinned before stepping out of Apollo's cell and locked it behind him, not sparing the man another glance. He went back to face McGee.

"As I was saying," he continued. "My plans are complicated, but flexible. You can be a part of them, but don't flatter yourself by thinking I'll put them on hold for you. That being said, you're right: I do have an idea of what to do with you. Its just a matter of whether this idea fits in with the rest of my schedule. If not, it will just be a separate project with no influence on the grand scheme of things. I believe the saying goes: we can do this the easy way or the hard way. For you…the both of you," he clarified, looking at Victoria, "the easy way is you accepting positions in my ranks. You're both already far more accomplished than any of my other 'family members' and I could use a right hand man -and woman- with some actual intelligence. Say yes and I'll teach you so much. You'll be let out of these cells and can follow me right upstairs. You'll get your own beds," he looked at Victoria as he said this, and chills ran down her spine, "and everything I have will be at your disposal."

Tim couldn't see Victoria, but he didn't have to see her to know what her expression looked like, and what she was thinking. So he spoke for the both of them. "And if we say no?"

Thaddeus' eyebrows raised, but he nodded. "Then we do things the hard way. You'll still serve a purpose, you'll just need some convincing first."

Yes, it was a blatant threat, and everyone heard it- it hung in the air between the cells. Surprisingly it was Victoria who responded first.

"Go to hell."

Thaddeus laughed, his head thrown back in pure delight.

"We are going to have some fun, you and I," he said to Victoria, ignoring Apollo's inhuman growl. But she responded with a hiss of her own, and he simply chuckled and turned to McGee. "What about you?"

Tim sent a glance to Tony, Ziva and Gibbs, who all stared back, attempting to wordlessly convey their support. He didn't know if this would be the last time he ever saw them again, so he took a moment to memorize each of their faces. Then he looked across to Apollo, who nodded in support of whatever he chose. Honestly, it would kill him to see Tim give over to such an abominable way of thinking, but it would be even worse to see him suffer.

But McGee looked back at Thaddeus and, with one eyebrow raised from a cockiness he definitely didn't feel, he responded, "What she said."

The ancient man chuckled and turned away.

"Suit yourself."

He signaled to his guards, who came forward and dragged Tim and Victoria from their cells, completely immune to their struggling and kicking. The two of them were pulled through the door at the end of the little room. Then Thaddeus, ignoring four different strings of curses being thrown at him, personally opened the agents' cell and pulled DiNozzo out, tossing him into the cell Victoria had just vacated, slamming it shut behind him. He then did the same to Ziva, putting her in McGee's former cage.

"Forgive me," he said, looking at the agents. "But it would be stupid of me to put any two of you in one cell together. Besides, now you have room to stretch out and get comfortable. You're going to be here for a couple days."

Without waiting for their response, he turned back to Apollo and regarded him with a smirk, then turned to the one guard left in the room.

"Watch them all carefully," he said. "And get the device for my dear friend here."

He looked back once again. "You've always been creative. I think you're going to like this. I designed it myself. How's that for details?"

His lackey produced an odd metal contraption. Apollo couldn't see it clearly while it was passed from man to man, but he knew that it was dangerous. His cell door was unlocked again and this time both Thaddeus and his follower stepped inside, cramping up the tiny space. He was about to unfold his injured wings and prepare to defend himself, but somehow his former comrade was so unbelievably fast (of course; it was one of his powers that had been enhanced through soul-stealing). One punch from Thaddeus would be enough to crush a human skull, and even to another flightling as old and as strong as Apollo, it was too much. When the fist collided with his face, all of the lights went out with a violent snap, and he was on the ground, unconscious.

He didn't know how long he had been out for, but the first thing Apollo was aware of was the bizarre appliance made of the one metal he couldn't bend. It was wrapped around his torso in a vice grip and very much resembled that of a suicide bomber's vest. He tried to pull it off but the spikes that pressed themselves into his back made him give up. It was made to keep him from expanding his wings. He had to admit, it was ingenious.

When he stood he immediately noticed the way Agent David was pacing her cell, so wired that she looked like she might start climbing the walls. Next he saw that Agent DiNozzo was sitting on the ground, his head almost between his knees and his hands behind his neck. He didn't have to wonder long at the cause for their behavior, as the echoes of screaming could be heard from several rooms over, even through the thick stone wall.