Tony had gotten pretty comfortable with his life. He helped the team work the cases that came in, made sure that Gibbs got whatever he needed when he needed it, and spent a lot of time laughing with Abby. It was a better life than he’d ever anticipated having, even as a freeman. He was loved and cared for, his body adorned with Gibbs’ marks of ownership, whether physical or jeweled.
His Master took the time with him, which meant more to Tony than anything else. He knew exactly how precious Gibbs’ time was, since he took care of the man’s schedule, but Gibbs always made time for him, no matter how crazy a case got. Like the one they were in the middle of…a prostitution ring that went very, very high up the chain of command. Everything was locked down tight and no one knew what was going on except for the team.
The only other time he’d seen his Master so consumed by a case was the marines who were dealing drugs on multiple bases. The ‘simple’ murder of a pretty young ensign had led to the discovery of the ring and as soon as they’d tracked a lead to an Admiral, Gibbs had started reporting only the barest of facts to Director Sheppard because, as his Master had said, “Best way to protect her is to keep her out of the loop.”
Tony knew that they had a history and it made Gibbs a little more protective of the Director than it should. The first time he’d shown some insecurity about it, though, Gibbs had chained him from the ceiling and whipped him into coming and then fucked him while he hung dazed and utterly spent from his cuffs. It had been an incredible experience and reassured him more than words ever would have.
Tony knew better than to arbitrarily interrupt an interrogation, so he brought the evidence file with Abby’s new findings to the viewing room. He’d be able to judge then when to interrupt, if at all. Through the one-way glass, he saw Major Whittley, a big, bruiser of a man with black hair and pale, almost colorless eyes, smirking at Gibbs, whose back was to the mirror.
“…rank won’t protect you, Gunny. This investigation of yours will result only in your very long, very protracted death.”
Fear gutted Tony at the threat and the file dropped from lax fingers. He looked over at McGee manning the recording equipment and then hurriedly picked up the papers, stuffing them back into the folder. With his headphones on and starting at the monitor instead of through the glass, McGee didn’t even notice that he was there.
Gibbs looked relaxed enough, at least from the back, as he replied easily, “I’m not the one who’ll be denied the blade, Whittley. Five deaths, two of them marines and all of them innocent, hard-working girls; exactly the kind that the Empire does its damnedest to protect. We’ve got your DNA at the scene of the last murder. It’s just a matter of time before we find the gun. And then your masters will just step back and let you take the fall, let justice clean up their mess for them since you were stupid enough to get caught, after all.”
Whittley didn’t look at all fazed by the counter-threat. “Here’s what’s really going to happen and, if you know half as much as you think you do, you’ll know that it’s true. A couple of days from now, you’ll be brought up on random charges of something. Knowing what I do of you, I’ll guess it has to do with that infamous slave of yours. Something that he’ll have to testify to in court that will put you on the very, very slow track to death.
“It’ll be public and messy, just like his old man’s. I bet they’ll even make a show of it like, you know, some years back with those abolitionists. They put them all out there, the whole family, to get raped by Imperial Guard and then chucked into slavery. That’s what’ll happen to your team. You, on the other hand, will get to watch while your guts slowly fall out from being quartered. I bet they’ll even put your pretty slave up for auction after doing him the same as your team.”
From the rigid tension in his Master’s back, Tony knew it was taking all Gibbs had not to kill the man on the spot for the gleeful supposition. Nausea clawed at his stomach as he struggled to throw off the words. It couldn’t be true, could it? But then, there was a reason that Gibbs had locked everyone but the Director out of the investigation, and even her to a good extent. That reason was very probable that somehow, the big names they were chasing would find out and do something very like what Whittley had just described. Gibbs hadn’t included Tony in on his reasoning and Tony hadn’t asked.
But it would all hinge on Tony. It was his worst nightmare, Gibbs dying before him; that he could die because of him was unthinkable. His second worst nightmare was that he could be used against those he loved most. And being raped by nameless men and then sold to someone else was pretty damn high on the list, too.
Practically hyperventilating, knowing he could do something to prevent all of that from happening, Tony left the file on the extra chair and ran from the viewing room.
* * * *
Jethro forced himself to
breathe normally as the vivid words Whittley used
painted a horrifying picture. If he’d stumbled onto this investigation ten
years ago, he might not have pursued it so high if only because he hadn’t had
anyone to back him. Not that Mike hadn’t been a great
partner, but the other agent had been at the end of his career and
sliding off towards
He could only be glad that Abby was occupying Tony in her lab. Chances were better than good that the slave would have heard Whittley’s threat and panicked. Jethro didn’t have the time to give him the attention he needed at that moment, which annoyed the crap out of him, but had turned into a blessing with all of Whittley’s taunts and threats. Abby did, though, teaching him even more about forensics to increase Tony’s considerable knowledge base.
So he sat and waited, watching as Whittley grew ever more fidgety and sweat began trickling down his forehead. Jethro pulled out his Swiss Army knife and trimmed his nails. Once that was done, he pulled out the blueberry device thing and made like he was answering emails, all the while keeping an eye on when the scum across from him would break.
It took longer than he expected, almost a full hour, before Whittley blustered, “I’m not telling you anything.”
Jethro gave a shark’s grin and stood up. “Good. I was going to use you to support the evidence we already have against Admiral Franks, but we have enough to get him without you. Have fun with the Imperial Guard.”
He actually reached the door before a defeated-sounding Whittley called his name. Jethro allowed himself a triumphant grin for a split second and then turned back, all expression gone.
* * * *
The second that Jethro saw McGee, he knew something was very wrong. It had been a while since he’d seen that scared, ‘don’t kill me’ look on the younger agent’s face and it made him growl, “What happened?”
“Boss, I’m sorry, I just, I don’t know when he was here, but…Tony came in at some point when I was monitoring the interview. I checked with Abby and Kate and Ziva and even Ducky, but he’s not with any of them. And I ah, I had the building searched and, and there’s no sign of him.”
Jethro grit his teeth and said, “So now everyone in the building knows that he’s run away.”
McGee paled further and started to stammer out another apology, but Jethro just left him there and ran for the stairs. When he got to Abby’s lab, he opened his mouth to have her do a trace, but she held up a hand and told him, “Sorry, Gibbs, but he’s a smart guy. He came in here about a half-hour ago to say you were still interviewing and he hadn’t given you the folder yet, but McGee had it. Which, by the way, is totally true. He didn’t break your rule about lying. Of course, he was stealing one of my very large and locked away magnets while I was working with Mr. Mass Spectrometer, so his tracker’s gone all wonky and offline. I can’t track him.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jethro snarled. “His phone?”
“At your desk. And he hasn’t used the ATM card yet, so there’s a chance…”
Frustrated, Jethro interrupted, “He won’t.”
It was a rookie mistake and Tony wasn’t a rookie. He was also dressed normally today in deference to them being on a case and he’d probably grabbed a tie from somewhere to cover up his Chain. Out in the world, no one would know that Tony was a slave, not with as good an actor Jethro knew he could be. The only problem the other man would have was getting money. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to use the ATM, so where…
Jethro ran out of the lab and headed for the garage. If he was fast, he might be able to get home before Tony, or at least catch him before he left.
* * * *
It had taken a surprisingly long time for the bus to drop Tony off about a mile from the house. He was lucky that he’d remembered the route he’d taken once and that only because Gibbs insisted he be able to find his way home if they got separated and somehow weren’t in contact. The entire ride there, Tony’s stomach had been trying to climb out of his throat. Before then, really, as he’d left the building positive that everyone could read on his face that he was running away.
He was cutting it close, taking the bus home, but he hadn’t had cab fare enough to get there. Gibbs would be tied up with the interview for at least a couple of hours and then it would take more time to figure out that he wasn’t in the building plus travel time to the house. Tony figured that he had about four hours total before Gibbs got to the house which was just enough time for him to pack a bag and empty out the emergency stash in the basement. Tony would send it back just as soon as he could, but there was no way he could chance using the bank to access his own money.
Tony opened the front door with shaking hands. All he wanted was to go back to NCIS and beg forgiveness for running, but he had to protect his Master. This was something he had to do. The living room was dark and he reached for the light, turning it on and blinking at the change to clear his vision.
And then he froze in place, because Gibbs was already there, on the sofa, watching him.
“It’s a damn good thing I know you so well,” the other man stated quietly. “Otherwise, we might have had some real trouble with you out in the world and so recognizable. It’s only been a year since your father, Tony. Did you really think you’d be able to run away without someone either handing you over to the cops or taking you for themselves?”
Something he’d been too panicked to even consider, Tony realized. He waited, tense, for the punishment to begin. There was no way that he’d get out of this one unscathed. How many people at NCIS had been included in the search for him? Even if there hadn’t been a search, it was likely that McGee had blabbed the whole situation to anyone who would listen.
Gibbs stood and walked over to him, stopping about a half-foot away with a sigh. Shaking his head, Gibbs told him, “Stop looking at me like I’m going to turn into Frankenstein’s monster,” and took Tony’s hand, leading him back to the sofa.
Confusion swamped Tony when his Master sat and then pulled him down on his lap. He sat there, stiff and unsure of what would happen next, waiting for the axe to fall. Gibbs just put one arm around Tony’s waist and drew his head down to Gibbs’ shoulder with the other.
“McGee’s in so much trouble here, it’s not even funny, but you aren’t. None of this is your fault, Tony. I knew exactly how you would react and that’s why you weren’t supposed to be involved with any of the interviewing. That viewing room door should have been locked and barring that, McGee should’ve noticed when you came in the room. Of course, I didn’t forbid you from going in, either, so that’s going to change right now. Unless I say otherwise, all interviews are off-limits for you, understood?”
Tony nodded dumbly, still waiting for some kind of punishment to happen.
Gibbs kissed Tony’s forehead and continued, “As far as anyone at work is concerned, I said you could go home and neglected to mention it to McGee, who panicked when he couldn’t find you. That’s close enough to the truth, anyhow, since I always told you to come home when we got separated. It’s just fear that split us apart this time instead of physical circumstances.”
No Master didn’t punish their slave for running away. Standard punishment was public beating and could range up to hamstringing and castration, depending on the Master and how successful the slave was at getting free. Taking his courage in his hands, Tony whispered, “Master, aren’t you going to punish me?”
“No.”
The tone brooked no challenge, not that Tony wanted to do so, but he was confused. “But, Master, I ran away. You can’t just let me get away with it.”
Unexpectedly, Gibbs chuckled at that and replied, “You don’t seem to have gotten very far. And nice trick with the magnet, but I wouldn’t recommend spreading the knowledge around to other slaves. That will definitely get you in big trouble, and not just with me.”
“I don’t understand,” Tony said plaintively. “I ran away. You should punish me. You have to punish me.”
His Master paused and then asked, “Tony, do you want me to punish you?”
Tony shook his head as he answered, “No, but…it’s expected. It’s what all Masters do to slaves who run away.”
Gibbs sighed a bit and then kissed him again before saying, “I’m guessing you ran because of what Whittley said, right?”
“Right,” Tony confirmed.
“Which means you ran to protect me and the team, right?”
Tony nodded hesitantly.
“Since that’s one of the rules of being on the team, protecting each other, why would I punish you for it?”
Tony opened his mouth and then closed it again, thinking. He saw where Gibbs was going with it, but it seemed like splitting hairs.
“Give me this one, okay, Tony? I don’t want to punish you for trying to protect us, even by doing it that way,” Gibbs murmured.
Looking at his Master’s face, really seeing the tension lines and the air of exhaustion, Tony ultimately nodded. The last thing he wanted was to add to his Master’s burdens.
Gibbs let out a long, slow sigh and smiled wanly at him. “Good. Let’s get back to the office by way of a Chinese restaurant. We’ll all do better for some food in us. Up you go.”
Tony stole a quick kiss first, still bewildered, but very grateful that he wouldn’t have to endure a public punishment. When he turned towards the door, Gibbs cuffed him upside the back of the head hard enough to smart and he looked at the other man in surprise.
“That’s for thinking that I don’t have the resources to protect you and the team against a jackass like Whittley,” Gibbs informed him, a faint grin in evidence.
Feeling better for the correction, however minor, Tony grinned back at him and said sincerely, “I’m sorry, Master.”
Gibbs’ smile softened and it was he who stole a kiss next. “Good. Now let’s go so I can start making McGee’s life a living hell.”
Tony laughed at that and pulled off the tie so he could show his Chain again. Not for the first time, and probably not the last, he thanked the Gods that he’d wound up as Gibbs’ slave.