**January 2ndâ€"1930 Hours Undisclosed Warehouse, Downtown Baltimore**
The first thing Tony was aware of as he began to drift back into a state of consciousness was the throbbing ache in the back of his head. It was all he could do to lift his chin, and as he allowed his eyes to flutter open, he winced at the bright lights that assaulted his retinas.
"It's about time you woke up. I was starting to think you were going to make this hard for me."
The voice was coming from somewhere beyond the light, but even in his confused state, Tony found he already knew who its owner was; it was the same voice that had plagued him for almost a week.
"Mi… Michael?"
"No brain damage. That's a good sign, I guess. Your stupid boyfriend will be pleased."
Blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear his blurry vision, he swallowed hard, fighting down the rising feeling of nausea. His first instinct was to push himself to his feet but the slightest movement caused his stomach to flip and before he could stop himself, he was retching.
Hidden in the shadows, Michael watched with pleasure as the object of his most recent obsession spilled the contents of his stomach onto the front of his shirt before he slumped back against the wall, coughing and gasping for air.
"I wouldn't advise you try that again," he smirked. "You're not going anywhere anyway, so save your energy. You're going to need it for later."
It was a struggle to catch his breath and it was all he could do to ignore the feeling of rising panic that threatened to suffocate him. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, hoping to force enough air into his lungs and only once he was sure he wasn't going to pass out from lack of oxygen did he begin to take stock of his situation.
His hands were bound behind his back with rope, if the raw, burning feeling in his wrists was anything to go by. His feet were left untied, but he knew without the use of his hands, he'd never be able to get to his feet before Michael got to him.
His head was throbbing and his hazy vision only served to make him more nauseous. All in all, things were not looking good. When his vision began to clear, he tried looking around again, realizing that he was in some kind of a warehouse. And judging by the smell, it was near the docks.
"A warehouse, huh?" Tony snorted, though he frowned a bit at the slight slur in his voice due to what he was sure was a concussion. "How cliché."
Stepping out of the shadows, Michael offered him a cocky smirk. "Maybe," he conceded, taking a few steps toward the older man. "But it really sets the stage, doesn't it?"
Tony shivered, feeling the dampness of his clothes soaking through to his skin. "Sets the stage for your arrest, yeah. Because you know as well as I do that's all that'll be happening here."
He grunted audibly when the younger man punched him, tasting the blood that pooled in his mouth almost immediately. Laughing, he shook his head slowly, narrowing his eyes at him. "That's the best you've got, Michael? I could hit you harder than that with my pinky finger."
The dark haired man growled before he reached out, gripping Tony's hair in his hand. With a dark grin, he slammed his head back against the brick wall behind him, his smile widening when he felt Tony's body go limp.
**January 3rd-0200 Hours Gibbs' House**
Dropping the worn piece of sandpaper onto the work bench, Gibbs sagged against his boat and released a loud frustrated sigh. He hadn't been surprised when he'd arrived home and realized that Tony was nowhere to be found. He'd expected his younger lover to return to his own apartment, and though he didn't necessarily like the idea, he knew that maybe they both needed a little time apart, at least until this case was over.
That didn't stop the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach though.
Grabbing an old mason jar, he dumped the collection of nails onto his work bench before he grabbed his bottle of bourbon. It had been awhile since he'd had a drink, but all things considered, he felt as though he'd earned one. Filling the jar about halfway, he capped the bourbon and placed it back on the shelf beside the work bench.
His thoughts drifted to Tony as he raised the glass and drained it in a single swallow, the liquid burning its way down his throat angrily. Wincing just slightly, he dropped it back to the work bench and resisted the urge to scream in frustration.
"This is ridiculous," he growled to the empty basement just as his cell phone started chirping happily in his pocket. Hoping against hope, he flipped it open without even checking the caller ID.
"Tony?"
"Um…" He could hear Ziva hesitate on the other end of the line and without his permission, his shoulders slumped miserably. "Gibbs, it is Ziva."
"Yeah, I got that," he grumbled, releasing a loud sigh. "What's goin' on?"
"Miller… he is awake."
Snapping the phone closed between his fingers, he took the stairs two at a time. Not bothering with a jacket, he practically sprinted out of the house, allowing the door to slam shut behind him.
It was less than fifteen minutes later that he pulled up in front of the hospital, his knuckles white as he clenched the steering wheel. Swerving into a parking space, he shifted into park before he leapt out of the car, already on his way to the front of the hospital.
He could feel his blood practically boiling as he thought about the man laying in the hospital bed. It was that sonofabitch's fault that they'd ever had the misfortune of meeting Michael Martinetti and he knew it would be a chore to keep his temper in check.
Stalking into the hospital, he took the elevator to the third floor, his hands clenched into angry fists at his sides as he bypassed the nurses' station. He could feel his heart rate accelerating as he made his way down the hall, pausing in front of Jeremy Miller's hospital room.
From where he stood, he could see the younger man on the bed, his fingers clenching the sheets at his sides as the doctors removed the ventilator tube that had been shoved down his throat to help him breathe following the shooting nearly a week ago. At the head of the bed, Ziva stood, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at the man impassively, waiting for the doctors to finish before she read him his rights.
Jeremy released a choked gasp once the tube had been removed, his hazel eyes wide as he searched the room for familiar faces before he settled his gaze on Ziva.
"Wh… where is he?" He asked, his voice coming out in a ragged gasp. "Did you… did you get him?"
"Get who?" She asked, glancing back at Gibbs as he stepped into the room.
"Jeremy Miller… you're under arrested for the murder of Lance Corporal Henry Donovan andâ€""
"N…. No! M… Michael."
"What?"
"It was…" he trailed off, swallowing hard against the pain in his raw throat. "It was Michael. He tried to kill me."
**0245 Hoursâ€"Tony's Apartment**
Screeching to a halt in front of his pregnant lover's apartment complex, Gibbs threw the car into park before he leapt out, jogging the short distance to the front of building.
Over the course of the last week, something had felt off about Michael Martinetti, but he hadn't been able to put his finger on it. Once Miller had come around and filled Gibbs and Ziva in on his story, everything had clicked in to place.
According to Miller, Michael had become obsessed with Lance Corporal Donovan a week prior to his murder. What had started out as a bit of innocent flirting between the pair quickly turned deadly when Michael realized that Donovan wasn't interested in more than a quick fuck.
Once Miller realized what had happened between the two, he confronted Michael, wanting his full side of the story before he went to the police. That had been when Michael attacked him.
Gibbs had been on the phone with McGee before he ever made it down the hallway. Without needing to be told, the younger agent assured his boss that he was on his way down to the Navy Yard to put out a BOLO on Michael's vehicle and start running the younger man's background, looking for anything that might lead them to him.
Pushing the door to the apartment complex open, Gibbs hurried inside, trying desperately to ignore the nagging feeling in the pit of his gut.
Opting for the stairs rather than the elevator, he took them two at a time before spilling out onto Tony's floor, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as he approached the door.
Without knocking, he slipped his key into the lock and pushed the door open. "DiNozzo?"
He hadn't expected an answer, but the lack of one quickly confirmed his fear. Pulling his phone from his pocket with shaking hands, he dialed McGee again, releasing a frustrated sigh when the younger man answered.
"Michael has Tony."
**0525 Hoursâ€"Undisclosed Warehouse, Downtown Baltimore**
A quiet moan escaped Tony as he forced his heavy eyes open, ignoring the throbbing in his head. For a brief moment, he couldn't remember where he was or what had happened until he heard a quiet laugh from somewhere behind him.
Blinking just slightly in an attempt to clear his vision, he lifted his head only to realized that he was laying belly down on a dingy old mattress, his hands bound behind his back. Despite the sluggishness he'd felt when he first woke up, he suddenly felt awake, adrenaline pumping through his system, making him hyper aware of the predicament he currently found himself in.
He couldn't feel his arms or legs and when he finally managed to crane his head around enough to get a glimpse of his body, he realized that he'd been stripped bare despite the extremely low temperature.
A quiet gasp escaped him before he could stop himself as his brain finally managed to catch up with his body; it was like being dunked in a tank full of freezing water, and before he knew it, his entire body was trembling, his teeth chattering.
"Something wrong, Tony?"
He struggled to look up at Michael, surprised to see that the younger man had moved in front of him.
"C… cold," was all he could manage.
"It's going to get even colder soon," he responded with a smirk as he stepped over to the mattress, grabbing a fist full of Tony's hair.
A strangled moan escaped him as Michael yanked his head back, exposing his neck. A second later, he could feel the cold blade of a knife pressing against his flesh.
It wasn't the first time he'd faced the end, but this time, it was different.
He couldn't even begin to count the number of times he'd thrown himself in front of a bullet meant for a teammate or offered himself to psychopaths in exchange for innocent people who'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but it wasn't just about him anymore.
Closing his eyes against the sting of tears, he swallowed hard, his thoughts drifting back to his older lover and the father of his unborn child as Michael pressed the blade even harder against his neck.
"I'm so sorry, Jet," he thought, a dry sob escaping him as two loud shots rang out through the room.
He was aware of a heavy weight falling on his back, forcing the air from his lungs as the knife clattered to the floor in front him. A second later, the weight was lifted and warm, gentle hands were probing his frozen body.
"Tony?"
He knew the voice, and he wanted nothing more than to answer, but he found his mouth wouldn't cooperate with his brain. Another strangled gasp escaped him as his hands were freed from behind him and he was turned over gently.
"McGee! Call an ambulance!" Gibbs barked, shrugging out of his jacket before draping it over his younger lover's bare body. "Tony?"
"S… so c… cold," he managed, his teeth chattering loudly as his entire body shivered.
"Gonna get you warmed up," Gibbs promised, reaching out to run his hands over his partner's bare legs. "Just stay with me. You hurt anywhere?"
"H… head."
"Ambulance is on its way, Boss," McGee said, dropping into a crouch beside his partner as he pulled his jacket off as well, covering Tony's exposed legs.
Gibbs looked over his Italian carefully, looking for any other bruises or marks that Michael may have left behind when he noticed Tony's eyes beginning to shut.
"Hey! You stay with me!" He ordered, looking up when he heard the sirens in the distance. "Hear the sirens? They're almost here."
"W… wanna sleep. So c… cold."
"You can sleep later. You're gonna be fine, but you've gotta stay awake for a few more minutes. McGee, help me get him up."
The two men pulled Tony into a sitting position carefully despite his weak protests. Grabbing the two jackets, Gibbs wrapped them around the younger man's shoulders before pulling him into his warm embrace.
"I don'…" Tony trailed off, swallowing hard as he pushed away from his lover's warm chest. "Feel s'good," he managed, just seconds before he jerked away, retching violently.
He could hear Gibbs and McGee calling his name as he slumped heavily against his lover, his vision going hazy before he blacked out.
**1230 Hoursâ€"Bethesda Hospital**
Shifting slightly against the scratchy sheets, a quiet whimper escaped Tony as he forced his heavy eyelids open, blinking in an attempt to clear his vision. The room wasn't familiar, though as soon as he caught sight of the millions of machines at his bedside, he knew he was in the hospital.
"Welcome back."
The quiet voice startled him as his hazel eyes searched the room for its owner, finding her perched in the chair in the corner.
"J… Jethro."
"Coffee," Abby said by way of explanation as she pushed herself to her feet, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. "You gave us all quite a scare, Tonyboy. How are you feeling?"
"Fuzzy."
"That's because they gave you the good stuff. Nothing that'll hurt the baby though."
Tony swallowed hard, nodding as he rested his head back against the pillows. "S… sorry."
"Rule number six," Abby smiled, reaching up to brush his hair back from his forehead. "Besides, I'm not the one you need to apologize to."
"He won't accept it," he responded miserably. "He'll blame himself."
Abby shrugged, struggling to keep her own emotions under control as her friend fought with his. "He should be back soon. Do you want me to give you twoâ€""
"You don't have to."
"I know I don't have to. I just thought that you guys might wanna talk, and some things are better talked about in private."
"Y… yeah, I guess you're right."
Pushing herself up from the edge of the bed, she leaned over, dropping a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I think I'm gonna go find your man. You have some stuff to work out."
"I'm here," Gibbs responded from the doorway, offering the younger woman a slight smile when she jumped at the sound of his voice. "Thanks for takin' care of him, Abs."
Standing on her toes, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before she pulled away, squeezing his hand gently as she exited the room. "Take care of him, Gibbs. Make him better, okay?"
Watching as she left, he released a quiet sigh and crossed the room, sinking into the chair he'd been occupying for the majority of the morning before he offered his younger lover a sad smile.
"How...how much of that did you hear?"
"What do you think?" He asked expectantly, taking a sip of his coffee.
"It's not your fault, Jethro. You...you have to know that."
Gibbs nodded, reaching over and taking Tony's hand in his. "I know. Not your fault either."
"Don't know about that one. Sometimes I swear I'm a trouble magnet."
"On most days, I'll agree with that," he responded with a smirk. "How much of it do you remember?"
"Not much," the Italian admitted, pausing to release a deep cough. "I…" he trailed off, clearing his throat. "I remember going for a jog when I got home yesterday. I needed… needed to clear my head, I guess. Everything else is a little fuzzy."
"A concussion will do that to ya."
"How did you... how did you find me?"
"Baltimore PD found his car parked down by the docks. As soon as I realized what happened, McGee put a BOLO out on it. We were just headin' out to go over his apartment again when we got the call."
"I remember thinkin' you weren't gonna find me."
"It's a good thing you've got that concussion," Gibbs snorted. "That statement's good for at least two headslaps. You should know better than that. When have I ever not found you?"
"It was…" he trailed off, releasing another wet cough. "Different this time, Jet. After… after we fought, I didn't think you'd want to find me."
Reaching up, the older man ran his fingers through his younger lover's hair, ignoring the ache in his chest at Tony's words. "I can promise you this, Tony. There's nothin' in this world that you could do that would make me not want you. You got that?"
"I got it, Boss," he responded, releasing a tired sigh as his eyelids fluttered heavily. "'M really tired."
"Get some sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."
"You promise?"
"Promise."
Shifting just slightly on the bed, Tony sighed again as he allowed his exhausted body to relax. "Love you, Jet."
It was the first time Tony had acknowledged his feelings for the older man, and while Gibbs was sure it was true, he found himself wondering if he'd really meant to admit it out loud or if it was the light sedative talking, but he found that he didn't care. Leaning over, his brushed his lips against Tony's forehead before settling back in his chair, preparing for what he was sure would be a long day of waiting. "Love you too, Tony."
Chapter End Notes:
A/N: Holy cow you guys! Seriously! I know you all are completely awesome, but I was not expecting that many reviews! You guys seriously made my life! I know this chap took a little while to get out, but I wanted to make sure it was perfect for you guys after those amazing comments! Love you all so much and a huge thank you to Kelley for all her help! Don't forget to check out her fics as well and please don't forget to let me know what you think about this one! Love you guys!