Chapter 17: Breaking Loose
Gibbs strode across the yard quickly. He didn’t want to frighten Mrs. Mallard, but he needed to get her back inside as quickly as possible so he could return to Tony’s side. He didn’t like leaving his lover unguarded, but he’d been assured by Balboa that there was nobody but NCIS agents on the premises. Seeing Ducky’s mother up ahead, Gibbs called out to her.
“Mrs. Mallard! Mrs. Mallard we have to go back inside. Come on,” he called. She stopped and turned.
“No dear boy. There is a strange man in the house. I feel much more comfortable outside.”
Gibbs froze. “Who did you see? Was it one of the NCIS agents?”
The sweet old lady shook her head. “Oh no Matthew. This young man was most certainly not one of the agents.”
“Can you tell me what he looked like?”
“Quite tall. Dark hair. Very muscular. He was quite good looking, dear boy.”
“That’s good Mrs. Mallard. Can you tell me anything else about him?”
“Oh yes. He has a tattoo. I don’t believe I’ve seen any of your agents sporting a tattoo of this nature before. It was a large serpent--on his arm.”
Gibbs pulled out his cell phone and called Balboa. “We’ve got a breach,” he snapped into the phone. “The bastard’s in the house. Declan O’Sullivan is in the house.”
“I’m on it Gibbs--where are you?”
“I’m in the garden with Mrs. Mallard. Tony saw her wandering and insisted with everything going on that I bring her inside. She saw O’Sullivan in the house and decided to come outside.”
“Shit,” Gibbs heard Balboa mutter in his ear.
“What? What is it?”
“Saw how he got in the house. I’ve got Morrison and Taylor here. They’re unconscious.”
Gibbs quickly glanced around and saw a bench nearby overlooking one of Ducky’s immaculate gardens. “Mrs. Mallard? I would like for you to sit here for a little bit. I need to go back inside. The man you saw is not supposed to be here. The dogs will stay with you, is that alright?”
“Oh my dear Matthew I do wish you would stay with me. It’s a lovely day.”
“It is a lovely day, but this is very important. Someone will join you soon. I promise.”
Gibbs turned and ran back toward the house. Tony needed him. God he should have never left him. The senior agent knew he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his lover. “Balboa talk to me,” Gibbs snapped into the phone.
“The guard at the driveway is unconscious as well…whoever this is…they’ve gotta be inside. If it’s O’Sullivan I’m betting he’s found DiNozzo by now. Where’d you leave him?”
“In the guest room on the first floor where he’s staying.”
“If I were you I’d get there in a hurry. I think this guy means business.”
xxx
Tony groaned against the hand clamped solidly over his mouth. His eyes widened and he shook his head weakly when he saw Declan hold a syringe in front of his face.
“Can’t have you fighting me just yet,” Declan sneered. “We wouldn’t want the party to end before we even get it started now would we?”
Declan moved to give Tony the ominous injection, but Tony grabbed Declan’s wrist and began to struggle. He bit the hand covering his mouth and when Declan jerked away, Tony took a deep breath. “SOMEBODY HELP!” Tony didn’t think about the desperation or the fear in his voice--he just hoped someone actually heard him.
“Shut up damn you,” Declan grunted as he punched Tony hard in the side as he continued to struggle. It wasn’t long before the wheelchair flipped over and Tony and Declan were on the floor. The fight was suddenly much more evenly matched and the two rolled on the ground, vying for dominance. Declan was briefly shocked at how strong Tony actually was--he realized this was the first time that Tony had ever fought back. Tony realized how much adrenaline he had in his system--he was feeling no pain, but a little voice in the back of his head told him he’d regret it later. He glanced around looking for the needle Declan had been holding; he didn’t need to be surprised by that…his life depended on it.
“NCIS! FREEZE!” Tony glanced up for only a moment in his struggling and saw Balboa standing in the doorway, gun trained on both of them. Tony knew Balboa couldn’t get the shot--he and Declan were too intertwined, too animated--there was no way to get a clear hit without risking shooting Tony. Tony wasn’t huge on the idea of being shot today, but if it meant stopping Declan once and for all…
“DO IT!” Tony was yelling from the middle of the melee on the floor as he struggled to subdue his former lover, “SHOOT HIM! DO IT!”
Balboa’s eyes were flickering quickly over the situation, looking for a good shot, his fingers hovering over the trigger, but unwilling to shoot his friend.
Declan realized his advantage and smiled.
“You little NCIS agents are so cute, running around here like you’re playing cops and robbers. I waltzed right in here like I owned the place--even said good morning to the old lady who lives here on my way in. Imagine how convenient you made it for me when Agent Gibbs went out to collect the old lady and the dogs. Too perfect. I find it ironic that the super special agent screwed up and broke protocol for some old dogs!”
“I said freeze,” Balboa growled. “I won’t ask again.”
Declan smiled and flipped suddenly, hitting Tony again, and resuming the struggle for control, knowing that the NCIS agent wouldn’t risk shooting Tony.
“You won’t do it,” Declan sneered from the floor as he and Tony rolled and fought. “You don’t have the guts!”
Balboa’s face contorted with anger and he pulled the trigger. He missed his mark and the bullet only grazed Declan’s shoulder. Declan finally made a good hit on Tony and his former partner collapsed limply over his body, draping him like a canvas--a move which Declan used to his advantage, and he reached for Gibbs’ backup weapon that had landed in the floor when the wheelchair turned over.
Declan made sure to keep Tony between him and the NCIS agent as he began scooting for cover and firing the gun. He heard a grunt of pain and watched in satisfaction as the agent collapsed to the ground in a heap, clutching his shoulder and groaning in pain. Another shot disabled Balboa’s gun arm and Declan smiled.
“I’m sure your precious Gibbs isn’t too far away,” Declan murmured to Tony, as the other man’s eyes began to flutter open slowly. Declan kept Tony between him and the door, and kept careful watch, looking for any sign of the bastard who’d stolen his lover away. Oh yes Gibbs would pay for that.
Seconds later Gibbs cleared the hall and headed for the guest room. He saw Balboa lying in a bloody heap on the floor in the doorway, a gunshot wound in his shoulder and it looked like he’d been shot in the arm too.
Gibbs motioned for Balboa to not alert Declan of Gibbs’ presence. To Gibbs’ surprise, Balboa pushed himself up to sit and called out, “DiNozzo? Tony can you hear me?”
Inside the room Declan tightened his hold on Tony. “Tell him you’re fine and tell him to back off,” he instructed.
“Go Balboa--get out of here,” Tony said tiredly. His fingers tightened on the knife that had been in the belt Gibbs handed to him before leaving. “I’m alright man, just back off. Don’t want you to get hurt worse,” Tony continued.
Outside the door, Gibbs took a half step closer to the bedroom and froze when the floorboard beneath his foot creaked ever so softly. Gibbs closed his eyes and waited, hoping that Declan hadn’t heard the board creak.
Declan raised the gun. “C’mon out Agent Gibbs. I know you’re out there. I’m surprised though, that you let this other agent be shot on your watch. You must be a bigger pussy than I thought! I don’t know what Tony could possibly see in you--but there again, he’s never been the smartest kid in the class…”
Gibbs took a deep breath and started to move toward the door when he heard Tony yell from inside the room, “DON’T DO IT GIBBS! IT’S A TRAP! HE’S GOT THE GUN TRAINED RIGHT ON THE--” there was a thump and Tony’s words were abruptly cut off.
“Tony?” Balboa could see Tony and the concern was evident in his voice. “DiNozzo, man can you hear me?”
Tony slowly worked his jaw, wondering if it was broken. It hurt. A lot. “’m ok Balboa,” Tony said softly, his words slurring.
Gibbs let out a slow breath, relieved to hear Tony’s voice.
“I didn’t tell you to speak did I, asshole? So shut the fuck up!” Declan’s voice was loud, yelling, and slightly hysterical sounding. He was rattled and Gibbs wanted to capitalize on this. Surely Declan didn’t really think he could get out of this alive--did he?
Deciding this had gone on long enough, Gibbs called out to Declan. “Send Tony out and we’ll talk.” Sure we’ll talk, Gibbs thought to himself, I’ll personally introduce you to the muzzle of my gun…
“What makes you think I wanna talk asshole,” Declan yelled. “Tony’s mine! You can’t have him! You stole him away, but he’s mine! He wants to come with me!”
“Listen you’ve got to the count of three to surrender…one…two…three…” Gibbs waited another second before rounding the corner.
Declan smiled and opened fire, but the bullet went off course when Tony slammed into him.
“NO!” Tony’s voice was filled with anger, fear, and desperation. The knife slammed into Declan’s shoulder, ripping and tearing through flesh and muscle, quickly disarming him. Declan rolled over and tried to fight Tony off, but his former lover was too upset, too angry, too strong, and too desperate to survive.
The knife came down again, and Tony let out a frustrated growl when Declan tried to speak. “SHUT UP! YOU’VE ORDERED ME AROUND FOR YEARS BUT NOW I AM TELLING YOU TO SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP!”
Declan reached for the gun with his good hand, a groan of pain escaping his lips and Tony brought the knife down again. “Stay down you bastard,” he whispered, desperation filling his voice, and emotion causing it to crack. In that moment it seemed Tony recalled every moment of his relationship with Declan--he recalled every kick, every punch, every slap, every concussion, broken bone--every moment of his life with Declan had been one hellacious nightmare after another, and this…this was his moment--this was his retribution. He was breaking loose from this bastard and he never wanted to look back.
Tony had read the articles and attended the seminars on domestic violence. He knew about killing in self-defense, he knew about Stockholm Syndrome; he knew that sometimes the abused partner could reach a point where death of one of the partners seemed to be the only means of escape, and Tony wondered vaguely if he was at that point. He lifted the knife again and Declan stared up at him and he smiled.
“You don’t have the guts,” he said softly. “You can’t kill me because a part of you still loves me.”
The knife hovered over Declan’s heart…and Tony hesitated.
xxx
Kate and McGee settled in the bullpen, prepared for another long, boring day of working on cold cases. They’d each spoken with Gibbs earlier in the morning, and were informed that Tony’s night had been long and strained, and that Gibbs would not be working until Declan O’Sullivan was in custody.
They’d been hard at work for about an hour when Kate’s desk phone rang.
“Agent Todd,” she answered.
She was quiet for a minute as she listened to the caller’s words. McGee’s eyes shot up when she suddenly breathed out a quiet, “Oh my God.” She listened a moment more, and then stood up, her phone still pressed to her ear. “We’re on our way,” she said and hung up the phone. She looked at Tim. “We’ve got to get to Ducky’s. Someone has managed to knock most of Balboa’s team unconscious and Gibbs, Tony, and Balboa have not made outside contact in the past five minutes.”
The two agents grabbed their things and were out the door without a backward glance. Director Morrow was on his way down from his office to the bullpen when he saw Kate and McGee gear up and head out. He smiled approvingly and nodded. They’d be excellent agents with time. Their skills were improving by the day.
xxx
“Can’t you drive any faster?!” Kate was leaning forward in the seat, straining against her seatbelt as though her pulling herself forward would somehow propel the car forward at a faster rate. She glared at McGee whose lips were in a firm line. He was driving as fast as he dared through rush hour traffic--even with the flashing light on the roof of the car, he wasn’t in any hurry to get in a car accident--that would not help Tony and Gibbs.
He glanced at her for a brief second before turning his gaze back to the road. “I’m not Gibbs, Kate,” he said firmly. “I don’t have his…reflexes.”
“It’s not going to matter what kind of reflexes Gibbs has if we don’t hurry up though Probie,” Kate growled.
Finally reaching a break in the traffic, McGee floored the gas, and the two agents hurried toward their friends, unsure of what they’d find, and hoping to God they weren’t too late to help them.
xxx
Tony held the knife over Declan’s heart and his hands shook ever so slightly. Declan saw it and smiled. “Come away with me,” he whispered. “We can leave this whole mess behind us. We’ll move to a new place--start a new life, just you and me and it will be beautiful. We’re so good together baby--I love you; can’t you see that? You just got confused is all. I never meant to hurt you.” His fingers tightened on the gun.
Tony’s fingers tightened on the knife and he shook his head, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. “I want you to leave and never look back. I want you to forget I exist,” he growled.
Declan’s smile turned sinister. “Oh no I could never do that. You belong to me Anthony,” he said. The tone was so familiar to that of Tony’s father that the other man drew pause for only a second, but it was long enough for Declan to raise the gun at Gibbs.
“Say goodbye to your precious Agent Gibbs,” Declan sneered and his finger tightened on the trigger.
Gibbs still couldn’t get a clear shot of O’Sullivan--he and Tony were too tightly intertwined on the floor and Gibbs was not going to risk shooting his lover--not after everything that had already happened. Gibbs ducked out of the way, already knowing the fallout from this would be tremendous--he wondered how many stitches Tony had popped and how long he’d be in the hospital as a result of this…
Gibbs glanced around the edge of the door and watched as Tony dove for the gun, fighting Declan for it…
A moment later he heard a single shot, and then everything was quiet.
In the hallway, Balboa groaned in pain and Gibbs put a hand on his good shoulder. “Gonna be alright,” he said. “Stay with me okay?”
“Ch-chec-ck D-Di-Nozz-zo,” Balboa stuttered out. Gibbs nodded and rose to his feet.
“Tony?” Gibbs slowly peeked around the door and his gut clenched when he saw the two men lying motionless on the floor. Tony was lying mostly on his stomach, his arm had been jerked from the sling early on, and his legs were in a twisted heap beneath him.
“Tony? Can you hear me?” Gibbs shook Tony’s shoulder gently, his gut churning until he heard the soft sobbing breaths emanating from his lover. Gibbs gently rolled Tony over and pulled him close.
“It’s ok babe,” Gibbs whispered and Tony suddenly clung tightly to him. There were no words from the younger man, but the way he clung to Gibbs told the senior agent all he needed to know. “It’s ok I’ve got you now shhhh.”
The senior agent reached out with one hand and felt for the pulse of the man lying on the floor next to them. Brown eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling and blood pooled under him. No pulse. Declan O’Sullivan was dead. The gun and the knife lay discarded on the floor beside them.
It was finally over.
A moment later, Gibbs and the remaining conscious members of Balboa’s teams crashed through the door, guns drawn, screaming out warnings for people to freeze and drop their weapons.
“Stand down, it’s over,” Gibbs told them. “Somebody call 911 and get Ducky out here with the van…Jesus we’re all gonna be living in hotels at the rate we’re going,” Gibbs grumbled, running a hand up and down Tony’s back softly.
Gibbs held Tony protectively, feeling Tony’s muscles begin to slacken as the adrenaline rush wore off. Eventually, Tony collapsed and lay limply in his partner’s arms, content and knowing he would be protected. When Tony finally passed out, Gibbs eased him gently to the floor, took great care to make sure his airway was clear, and then kept a constant touch on his hand, shoulder, hair--anywhere Tony would realize he was being touched, so he would know he wasn’t alone.
The senior agent remained where he was, not moving when he heard the sound of the sirens alerting them that the ambulance had arrived. A moment later a team of paramedics rushed in and joined Gibbs and Tony on the floor.
“How long has he been unconscious?”
“Less than five minutes,” Gibbs replied, his eyes never leaving Tony’s face.
“What about the other guy?”
“He’s dead,” Gibbs said softly. “Our Medical Examiner is already on the way.”
The paramedics made quick work of loading Tony onto the gurney and Gibbs was surprised to see Tony blink his eyes open as they started out the door. The pleading look he sent Gibbs spurred the older man into action, and he raced out of the house after the EMTs.
“Wait,” Gibbs called.
One of the EMTs turned and looked back at Gibbs. “We need to hurry,” he explained. “What’s up?”
“I want to ride with you.”
“Sir we don’t usually allow people to--”
Gibbs felt a heavy feeling of guilt and desperation rise up within him. “Please,” he said softly. “I’m his protecting officer…he’s under guard…please let me ride with him,” Gibbs said. He’d deny begging, but a little voice in his head said that was exactly what was happening.
The EMTs shared a quick look; it was against regs that other passengers accompany them…but since this guy was a Fed…and since he was under guard…
“Fine,” the driver finally said. “But stay out of the way.”
“I will,” Gibbs promised.
He couldn’t explain this insatiable need he felt to be close to the younger man. Glancing back at the other agents currently processing Ducky’s house, Gibbs climbed in. He saw Balboa being loaded up into another ambulance, grumbling and protesting the whole way about only having a flesh wound and telling everyone he was “fine dammit.”
Gibbs sat on the bench inside the back of the ambulance. He smirked silently and shook his head, watching as they closed the doors and started on their way. His attention quickly turned to the man on the gurney before him.
Tony’s face was a pale shade of grayish-green, no doubt from the pain. Lines marred his features, evidence of the strain he’d put himself under this morning, and Gibbs could have kicked himself. It was his fault. If he’d followed procedure, if he had stayed with Tony and let someone else handle Mrs. Mallard, then none of this would have happened.
Or he could be lying dead in the floor and Declan could be dragging Tony away to reassert his control once again. Gibbs decided he’d gladly have taken Tony’s place, but a small part of him knew that Tony needed this victory.
On the stretcher, Tony groaned softly and his eyelids fluttered open slowly.
“Thank God,” Gibbs breathed, and reached out a cautious hand to run it carefully over his lover’s hair. “Take it easy,” he murmured. “We’re going to the hospital. You’re going to be fine.”
Tony’s face crumpled in pain and a shuddery breath was Gibbs’ only reply. Gibbs lifted Tony’s good hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I’m right here, babe,” he murmured, his lips close to Tony’s ear. “He’s dead Tony. He’s gone. It’s over. He can’t hurt you ever again. You’re safe. It’s over.”
Despite his calming, soothing words though, something in Gibbs’ gut couldn’t help but feel as though this mess wasn’t over at all. He was scared to think of what else might go wrong.
He didn’t think either of them could take it.
TBC…
Chapter End Notes:
Warning: Some OOC in this chapter. Oh and someone might die.