Chapter 17
Gibbs leaned against the doorframe between the bedroom and the bathroom, his eyes locked on the man asleep in his bed, his gut twisted with worry. He could tell that Tony's sleep was anything but peaceful and he couldn't help but think - no he knew - that something had been going on with Tony while he was at the Navy Yard.
Gibbs thought back to earlier in the day when he had phoned Abby as soon as he had arrived back at NCIS, asking her to bring Tony up. She had turned him over to Falco, she explained, because she was knee high in evidence from Balboa's case, and couldn't have Tony in the lab with her. Hearing that had given Gibbs a very bad feeling, so he called Falco and had him bring Tony up immediately.
##NCIS##
Something in Falco's voice made Gibbs' worry double as he sat anxiously waiting for those elevator doors to open. When he heard that familiar ding he tried to look casually towards the sound, but he never expected to see the sight coming towards him. His heart was in his throat as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
Falco's stride was purposeful, whereas Tony's was hesitant. Tony looked ill, his skin pale and sweaty, and when he staggered just a bit, Gibbs was on his feet and at his side in moments. "What the hell happened?"
"I'm not quite sure," Falco said. He released Tony and stepped back, trying his hardest to look and sound concerned. "We were down in the file room, working on some of the old, solved cases, when he suddenly started to feel sick. I had him lie on the floor and rest for about an hour and I thought he looked a bit better."
"Why didn't you get him to Ducky?" Gibbs snapped as he helped Tony down on his slave pillow. "Or you could have called me."
"You were both in the field and I didn't think the Director would have appreciated me calling you both back just for a slave." Falco knew he had said the wrong thing when Gibbs turned and glared at him.
"He's not just a slave to me," Gibbs shot back.
"Sorry, poor choice of words, but you know what I meant." Falco raised his hands in surrender as he took another step back.
Gibbs knew Falco was right, but it didn't make it any better. "Come on, I want Ducky to take a look at you."
"No please, Master," Tony whispered and grabbed Gibbs' shirt. "I just want to go home. I'll be all right, probably just something I ate."
"He's probably right. He was fine until we ate lunch." Falco lied knowing Tony had eaten nothing while in his custody.
Gibbs looked Tony over, not feeling comfortable with how he looked. He knew he should take Tony down to autopsy before going home, but the begging look in Tony's eyes broke his heart and he relented. "All right," Gibbs said as he stroked Tony's hair.
They left right away, and with Gibbs driving, they were soon home. Gibbs insisted Tony lay on the couch and it wasn't long before Tony seemed to feel better. He still refused to eat, only sipping on a small glass of milk, but Gibbs didn't push him. After a couple of hours, Gibbs decided it was time for bed and he led Tony upstairs and into the shower.
Tony moaned when the hot water hit his overly sore muscles, but couldn't prevent himself from stiffening when he felt Gibbs step up behind him. Thank God Falco had been careful about not leaving any marks. He tried to remain calm when he felt Gibbs' hands on his body, rubbing up his back and then down his arms. His breathing began to speed up when he felt Gibbs' hard cock slip in between his ass cheeks, while and he nipped at Tony's neck.
"You like that, Tony," Gibbs asked seductively.
"Y-yes, Master," Tony said softly, the nausea rising in his throat. How could he tell Jethro that just the thought of being touched made him sick?
"Master, really?" Gibbs asked, confused. "I would have thought after having to call me that all day at the Navy Yard you wouldn't want to role play tonight." Gibbs felt Tony shiver and he loved that he could give Tony such pleasure. He continued to lick and nip at Tony's neck as he pumped some liquid soap in his hand. "But if that's what you want…" Gibbs wrapped his hand around Tony's flaccid cock and began to slowly stroke it.
Tony suddenly pushed back, breaking Gibbs' hold on him, and stumbled out of the shower. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet and began to gag, throwing up the small amount of milk he had managed to swallow earlier. He was never more grateful than to feel the cool washcloth pressed to his forehead as Gibbs sat on the floor beside him.
##NCIS##
Two hours later, Ducky had come and gone. He had told Gibbs that Tony was going to be fine, that it looked like a twenty-four hour stomach bug, but Gibbs didn't believe that.
The longer Gibbs stood there and watched Tony twitch while he slept, the harder it was for him to shake the feeling that all was not well. Something has happened between Falco and Tony, but what? Was Tony at fault or was Falco? He'd always known Falco to be a stand-up guy but now there was something off about him. Was Gibbs being unfair to Tony assuming it was his mouth that was getting him in trouble? Whatever happened to his rule, never assume? Gibbs needed answers and, by God, come morning he would get them, one way or the other. Decision made, Gibbs quickly stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed.
***NCIS***
Tony's eyes shot open, a gasp caught in his throat, his body sweaty and trembling. Shit, what a nightmare! He's never had one so vivid, so real before. It was like the assault was happening all over again. Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, but images from the dream played on in his mind.
Not wanting to wake Gibbs, Tony crawled out of bed and quietly made his way to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him before he turned on the light and looked at himself in the mirror. He was still pale and the bags under his eyes were very prominent. In short, he looked like hell. Jesus, why was his life spiraling down into the toilet? Did he piss off some God he wasn't aware of? He sure as hell had never broken a mirror, so that sure as hell wasn't the reason.
Tony laughed at that thought, but the laugh quickly turned to a sob. Today had been the last straw. No way in hell was Falco going to lay a hand on him again. The only problem was, how to accomplish that and still keep Gibbs safe?
One solution was to run, get the hell out of Dodge. Thank God he had worn boxers and a T-shirt to bed. Now all he had to do was sneak into the bedroom, grab a pair of pants and a shirt, steal some money out of Gibbs wallet, great now I'm a thief, creep down the stairs, unlock the dead bolt and open the door, all without waking a trained Marine. Yeah, like that was going to happen.
He could wait until Gibbs was in the shower in the morning, that is if he didn't insist Tony join him. Of course if he claimed he was still too ill, maybe Gibbs would shower alone. Then Tony could quietly leave and be a fair distance away before Gibbs even realized he was gone.
There was one big problem with Tony's plan. If he chose this route and was caught there would be nothing Gibbs could do to prevent the powers that be from taking him away, and there was would be nothing stopping his father from getting his hands on him. As bad as all of that would be, the idea of leaving Gibbs was even worse. The thought of having to live this life without Gibbs at his side was something Tony couldn't face.
He had to take himself out of the equation if he was going to accomplish his goal. If he were no longer around then Falco would have no reason to hurt Gibbs, nor could he continue his abuse. So if the running idea was out, then there was only one other option he could come up with to keep Gibbs safe.
Tony spotted the water glass on the counter and knew what he had to do. He picked up the glass, sat on the floor and leaned back against the tub. He had to take several deep breaths to drum up enough courage to take the next step. Finally, he raised the glass in the air and smashed it against the side of the cabinet.
***NCIS***
Gibbs startled awake, not sure what the sound was that had roused him. Was that breaking glass he heard? He lay still listening for any movement downstairs. After several minutes of silence, Gibbs turned over to ask Tony if he had heard it, but the bed was empty.
"Tony?" Gibbs called out, growing concerned when there was no reply. Gibbs headed out of the bedroom, expecting to find Tony down in the kitchen getting something to eat, when he noticed a light under the bathroom door. "Tony, you all right?" Gibbs asked as he opened the door. "Are you sick again?"
Gibbs couldn't believe his eyes. Tony was sitting on the floor against the tub; a shard of glass in his shaking hand, held just inches from his wrist. "Tony, what are you doing?" Gibbs asked quietly as he slowly took a step closer. "Babe, put the glass down."
Gibbs could tell that Tony wasn't hearing a word he said. Tony's eyes were locked on his hand as tears slid down his cheeks. Gibbs made it to his side and knelt down. He gently grasped Tony's wrist and took the shard of glass out of his hand before sad green eyes reluctantly looked up.
Gibbs calmly sat beside Tony and ran his fingers through Tony's hair. "What's going through that mind of yours," Gibbs asked patiently. His heart almost broke when Tony suddenly fell into his arms and began to sob. "Hey now, what's this all about," Gibbs whispered as he held Tony tightly against him.
"I c-can't do it anymore," Tony cried out. "Please, don't make me go back there. Please let me stay here. I'll keep the door lock and I won't answer it for anyone but you, I swear. You-you can buy a slave cage and lock me in if you want, just please, don't make me go back there."
Gibbs gut flipped at hearing Tony's pleas. He was right, something definitely had happened at the Navy Yard, but now Gibbs feared it was much worse than he could have imagined. "Come on Tony, calm down and tell me what's happened." Gibbs felt Tony shake his head and he pulled Tony closer. "Tony, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
"I-I can't," Tony mumbled against Gibbs neck.
"Yes you can," Gibbs said as he pushed Tony up so he could look him in the eye. "And you will. Now, tell me what's going on."
"You don't understand," Tony protested.
"What don't I understand?" Gibbs pushed further.
Tony drew his knees up to his chest, his head on his knees and shook his head no. How could he possibly tell Gibbs and still keep him safe? I mean, wasn't that why he had endured all this shit, so he could keep Gibbs safe? "I c-can't," Tony whispered.
"Tony, I can't help you if you don't talk to me." Gibbs hesitantly reached his hand out and laid it on Tony's shoulder.
"It's too dangerous," Tony mumbled more to himself than to Gibbs.
"What's too dangerous?" Gibbs said harsher than he intended, but he was growing more and more frustrated.
"B-but he s-said he would k-kill you." Tony raised sad eye to meet worried blue ones.
"And you believed him?" Gibbs asked, trying to think of whom the 'he' was Tony was talking about and asking himself when did some bastard have access to him. He just couldn't believe it was anyone they knew or trusted. Even if, in his heart, he already knew the who and the how. "Tony, you know I can take care of myself."
"Are you sure?" Tony asked. "What about being shot at that crime scene a few weeks ago?"
"That! That was nothing, a fluke…"
"That was Falco!" Tony said loudly. "He arranged it and then streamed it live to his ipad for me to watch. Proof he could get to you anytime, anywhere if I didn't do what I was told."
"Falco?" To say Gibbs was surprised was putting it mildly. He had thought maybe Tony and Falco had a personality clash, but this? "Agent Falco Moretti, the man I trusted with your safety? He arranged my shooting?"
Tony nodded his head, fresh tears filling his eyes. "He's working with my f-father."
"Your fa…" Gibbs felt the bile rise in his throat as a thought crossed his mind. "What did he do to you?"
"He-he h-hurt me," Tony said under his breath.
"How?" Gibbs questioned, not all that sure he wanted to hear the answer.
Tony buried his head against Gibbs' chest, the trauma of the attack fresh in his mind. He couldn't bring himself to speak, his fear of losing Gibbs if he found out what Falco had done to him overriding all reason. No, it was better for both of them if he just stayed quiet.
Gibbs pulled Tony into a tight hug and began to rock him back and forth. "Talk to me, Tony. What did that bastard do to you?"
"Please, don't ask me that," Tony cried. "I-I just c-can't…"
"You have to," Gibbs demanded and then softened his voice. "Don't you see? I have to know. Please, Tony, tell me."
"He-he hurt me." Tony finally broke down. "He s-stuck things in-inside me."
"D-did he…" Gibbs couldn't complete the thought.
Tony turned his head away, no longer able to face Gibbs. "N-not in the way you think. He used everything but his dick. I guess Daddy doesn't want anyone fucking me but him." Tony took a deep breath and blew it out before continuing. "Now…you won't want me anymore," he said with a sob.
"What?" Gibbs snapped. "What ever gave you that idea?"
"I'm d-damaged goods," Tony gulped out between sobs. "I let him…I s-should have...I'm soiled, d-dirty. I'm…I'm…"
Almost too choked up to speak, Gibbs managed to get out, "You're the man I love." Gibbs pulled Tony back into a tight hug and kissed the top of his head. "Now and forever, Tony, no matter what. Now and forever. Now, I want you to tell me everything, from the beginning."
***NCIS***
Gibbs sat on the couch, a bottle of bourbon on the coffee table in front of him. He lifted his glass in a badly shaking hand, but God he needed this drink. He couldn't stop thinking about all the torture Tony had gone through, and at the hands of a man he'd entrusted his boy to. How could he have been so damned blind?
The aroma of bourbon was something he always loved, but not tonight. This time when the glass touched his mouth, the smell turned his stomach. Shaking his head, Gibbs sat the glass down and pushed it away, not a drop passing his lips.
Gibbs looked at his watch, surprised it was already six in the morning. It had taken several hours to get Tony calmed down enough to lie down. By then he had been so exhausted he had just passed out. That was about two hours ago, and Gibbs was still wide awake. There was no chance in hell he would be getting any more sleep tonight.
So here he sat, waiting. He had already called Director Morrow and explained the situation, as well as his plan, and he was completely on board. Then he had called the rest of his team and asked them to be at his house by seven this morning. He had a plan, but he would need their help to execute it.
Gibbs started when he heard the quiet knock at the door. He placed his drink back on the coffee table and made his way to the front door, already knowing who he would find. "Hey, Duck," Gibbs said as he opened the door. "Aren't you a bit early?"
"Maybe," Duck said, entering the home when Gibbs stepped to the side. "But after hearing your voice on the phone, I thought it prudent to come right over."
"Well, thanks for that Duck." Gibbs said and led the way into the kitchen. "I'm glad you're here."
"I knew you wouldn't have any proper Earl Grey." Ducky pulled a small box out of his coat pocket and handed it to Gibbs. "So I brought some from home. Now, shall we brew some nice tea and then you can tell me what has happened."
There was another quiet knock on the door and both men smiled. "Looks like I'm not the only one who was concerned. Why don't you continue in here and I will go let them in," Ducky said as he went to answer the door.
By the time Gibbs carried a tray loaded with a fresh pot of coffee and several cups into the living room, it was to find his entire team waiting for him. McGee and Abby were sitting on the floor, his laptop open in front of them on the coffee table, Gibbs' bottle of bourbon conspicuously missing. Ducky sat in the recliner with Palmer perched on the arm of the chair. Ziva and Kate had made themselves comfortable on the couch. Gibbs was gratified and touched that they had all responded so quickly and were there to help in anyway they could without asking why.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Tony finally breaks down.