Title: In Shadows Lurk
Rating: NC-17 for language; non-con; some hint of child abuse; and also hurt/comfort
Pairing: DiNozzo/Gibbs
Warning: Spoiler for Chained... and see rating above
Summary: What happened that night with Lane and Jeffrey? What's Gibbs going to do about it?



"I'm gonna do him!"

Tony struggled to move, struggled to push the hand that touched him. His eyes were open, focused on the two men standing over him... two men he knew... recognized... Lane... Jeffrey...

"He's going to help us! Make it happen! You're not going to touch him!" Pause. "He's mine anyway... I found him first and we agreed!"

The taller man pushed the smaller man who fell out of his line of vision as the mattress he lay on convulsed with the impact of a fallen body. "You can watch but I'm gonna have him then we're going get rid of him. I smell cop!"

Tony continued to fight internally. He was frozen, his mind barely focused. He was in a dangerous place... dangerous men... he had to get up...

"I thought that too but I'm pretty sure he's not!" The mattress shifted and moved then the smaller man was standing over him again. Slowly it was getting hard to see, to focus on what was happening. He was trapped... he had to get up... get out...

"Don't give a shit... I want his ass... you can have it afterwards. But it's mine now!" Hands gripped the waistband of Tony's pants. Fingers roughly worked at his fly. DiNozzo groaned... stop...

"No!"

Tony closed his eyes. It was too hard to stay alert. Something bad was happening but his mind didn't seem to know or care beyond giving into the urge to sleep. Vaguely he heard a struggle... an odd grunt that ended in the familiar odor of blood... a lot of blood. Danger... there was danger... he had to--


"Tony."

Voice full of need and desire. Tony sighed, too relaxed to open his eyes. He was comfortable. Warm. Aroused. A gentle hand touched his face... his neck... his pants, opening carefully.

"I wasn't going to let his filthy hands touch you," the voice assured as fingers whispered over his erection. "I'll protect you."

Protect. Tony frowned. No one protected him. Not his parents... not anyone... except--

"Gibbs?"

The fingers hesitated, began to pull away then returned, their owner sighing. "Girlfriend?"

Girlfriend? Tony smiled, amused. "Haven't had one of those in a very long time. Prefer boyfriends..." His mind halted. Why did he say that? He's never told Gibbs before... too dangerous... but Gibbs was touching him... stroking him...

"You're so beautiful," Gibbs-voice told him in a husky tone. "I'm glad you like boys because I like boys too."

He does? Tony wanted to open his eyes, some part of him knew this wasn't real but it was... Gibbs was stroking him... loving him... "Yeah... that's good..."

"I want to do a lot with you, Tony." The Gibbs-voice was needy. "But I want you to want it... not with that crap he gave you. But I have to touch you right now... have to know how you feel. I want to know what you look like when you cum... then whatever happens I'll always remember this..."

The strokes on his aroused cock became harder, faster, filled with purpose. Tony lost himself in the pleasure. He had wanted Gibbs for so long... so long... His hips arched up moving counter to the erotic friction as knowing hands and fingers worked him. He gasped as his cock was engulfed into the soft warmth of Gibbs' mouth. Tony petted the hair bobbing at his crotch, crying out as the suction drew him towards completion... Gibbs loved him... wanted him... Tony gave a final thrust... a final cry... his seed taken from him... swallowed...

Careful movements closed his pants, breath panted in his ear. "You're inside me now, Tony. Inside. You're a part of me... inside me..."



Inside me...

Tony jerked violently as fingers gently touched his neck. Instinctively he grabbed the offending hand, ready to defend himself--

"Anthony!"

Ducky's voice immediately brought DiNozzo into focus. Oh shit... He released the hand he was about to break. "Sorry," he said quickly, sincerely. He was sitting in a chair beside a long oaken table inside the conference room near the main bullpen back at NCIS headquarters. Gibbs asked Ducky to look him over even as Mallard was moving to DiNozzo's side, armed with a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. Tony sighed as he risked a look up at the older man, surprised and contrite. His mind had wandered to... something else... he didn't remember... "Did I hurt you?" he asked as he watched the Medical Examiner massage the palm of his hand. Great going, DiNozzo... break the hand of the best ME in the business.... Gibbs would love that...

Mallard's blue eyes were sharp as they appraised him. "I'm quite all right," he said reassuringly. "I'm going to have to put a couple of stitches in your neck I'm afraid." He touched his neck again, carefully lifting the hastily applied bandage just under his ear.

Stitches. Tony inwardly shivered. Jeffrey had tried to slit his throat. Tried to kill him. DiNozzo remembered the first hint of pain at the side of his neck but didn't remember shooting him. It was so quick... and the blood...

"Oh dear."

Heaving. Tony became aware of his body convulsing, vomiting. But there wasn't much to bring up. He hadn't eaten more than a sandwich or two since his undercover work began two days ago... two days...

"What's going on?"

Gibbs. Tony coughed then spat into the wastebasket that was suddenly on the floor under him. "Sorry," he muttered as he forced himself to gain control. Control. People assumed he had none but the oddest thing was it was because he worked so hard to make them believe that, controlled what they paid attention to in regards to him... his personal life... that they didn't see what he didn't want them to see.

"I believe events are catching up to him."

Events. Tony convulsed but nothing came up. He was done... for the moment. "Sorry, Boss."

There was a non-committal grunt beside him, a hand on his back. "Sorry for what?" The hand moved in an aborted caress across his shoulders then lifted, leaving behind a cold that raised goose bumps on his skin. "You did a good job, Tony."

Praise. It was the best he could hope for with his supervisor and the most he was willing to accept. He looked up, forcing a smile to his lips. "Thanks, Boss!"

Steel blue eyes assessed him as the ex-Marine's face remained oddly neutral. A tiny butterfly with razor sharp wings briefly fluttered in Tony's stomach. What's wrong?

"You're going home," Gibbs said with authority as his gaze moved to Ducky. "And tomorrow?"

The Medical Examiner shook his head a bit. "He's slightly dehydrated... a bit uncoordinated. I'm putting a couple of stitches in that nick on his neck." He paused as Gibbs shifted, as his boss' hands clenched. Tony frowned. In spite of the compliment, something was wrong. "I think he should be out for the rest of the week."

"No way!" Tony exploded, surprising himself as well as the two men standing in front of him. "I'm fine! I went out, got the bad guy and got a little cut!" He met Gibbs' eyes. "I got worse in Baltimore and I didn't take time off!"

"I can make it official, Anthony," Ducky countered quietly. His expression was kind but determine.

Tony stood, ignoring the jitters in his muscles, the spasm in his stomach. He was taller than Mallard and slightly taller than Gibbs. He rarely made a deal of it but he wasn't going to be treated like he was a--

"I agree with Ducky," Gibbs said without hesitation. "You're off duty until Monday morning."

"Son of a--" Tony stopped himself as he realized how much control he was losing... in front of Ducky and his boss. What the hell's wrong with me? He saw an odd expression ripple across Mallard's face. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded as puzzle pieces began float together in his mind. Gibbs' expression was hard as his eyes also fixed on the Medical Examiner in muted command.

Ducky sighed, his own eyes moving between both men then rested on Tony. "Jethro, could you step out a moment? Let me have a private chat?"

In response Gibbs seem to drift closer to DiNozzo as if to shield even as confusion creased his brow. A faint lifting of lips graced Mallard's face but his stance held authority. "Please, Jethro. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

Gibbs studied Ducky then Tony then turned in concise movements and left the room, closing the door behind him. Tony watched the scene play out, anxiety building as he wondered what had to be said in private... already knowing the answer... deep within...


Inside me...

Tony jerked violently as fingers gently touched his neck. Instinctively he grabbed the offending hand, ready to defend himself--

"Anthony!"

Ducky's voice immediately brought DiNozzo into focus. Oh shit... He released the hand he was about to break. "Sorry," he said quickly, sincerely. He was sitting in a chair beside a long oaken table inside the conference room near the main bullpen back at NCIS headquarters. Gibbs asked Ducky to look him over even as Mallard was moving to DiNozzo's side, armed with a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. Tony sighed as he risked a look up at the older man, surprised and contrite. His mind had wandered to... something else... he didn't remember... "Did I hurt you?" he asked as he watched the Medical Examiner massage the palm of his hand. Great going, DiNozzo... break the hand of the best ME in the business.... Gibbs would love that...

Mallard's blue eyes were sharp as they appraised him. "I'm quite all right," he said reassuringly. "I'm going to have to put a couple of stitches in your neck I'm afraid." He touched his neck again, carefully lifting the hastily applied bandage just under his ear.

Stitches. Tony inwardly shivered. Jeffrey had tried to slit his throat. Tried to kill him. DiNozzo remembered the first hint of pain at the side of his neck but didn't remember shooting him. It was so quick... and the blood...

"Oh dear."

Heaving. Tony became aware of his body convulsing, vomiting. But there wasn't much to bring up. He hadn't eaten more than a sandwich or two since his undercover work began two days ago... two days...

"What's going on?"

Gibbs. Tony coughed then spat into the wastebasket that was suddenly on the floor under him. "Sorry," he muttered as he forced himself to gain control. Control. People assumed he had none but the oddest thing was it was because he worked so hard to make them believe that, controlled what they paid attention to in regards to him... his personal life... that they didn't see what he didn't want them to see.

"I believe events are catching up to him."

Events. Tony convulsed but nothing came up. He was done... for the moment. "Sorry, Boss."

There was a non-committal grunt beside him, a hand on his back. "Sorry for what?" The hand moved in an aborted caress across his shoulders then lifted, leaving behind a cold that raised goose bumps on his skin. "You did a good job, Tony."

Praise. It was the best he could hope for with his supervisor and the most he was willing to accept. He looked up, forcing a smile to his lips. "Thanks, Boss!"

Steel blue eyes assessed him as the ex-Marine's face remained oddly neutral. A tiny butterfly with razor sharp wings briefly fluttered in Tony's stomach. What's wrong?

"You're going home," Gibbs said with authority as his gaze moved to Ducky. "And tomorrow?"

The Medical Examiner shook his head a bit. "He's slightly dehydrated... a bit uncoordinated. I'm putting a couple of stitches in that nick on his neck." He paused as Gibbs shifted, as his boss' hands clenched. Tony frowned. In spite of the compliment, something was wrong. "I think he should be out for the rest of the week."

"No way!" Tony exploded, surprising himself as well as the two men standing in front of him. "I'm fine! I went out... got the bad guy and got a little cut!" He met Gibbs' eyes. "I got worse in Baltimore and I didn't take time off!"

"I can make it official, Anthony," Ducky countered quietly. His expression was kind but determine.

Tony stood, ignoring the jitters in his muscles, the spasm in his stomach. He was taller than Mallard and slightly taller than Gibbs. He rarely made a deal of it but he wasn't going to be treated like he was a--

"I agree with Ducky," Gibbs said without hesitation. "You're off duty until Monday morning."

"Son of a--" Tony stopped himself as he realized how much control he was losing... in front of Ducky and his boss. What the hell's wrong with me? He saw an odd expression ripple across Mallard's face. "What aren't you telling me?" he demanded as puzzle pieces began float together in his mind. Gibbs' expression was hard as his eyes also fixed on the Medical Examiner in muted command.

Ducky sighed, his own eyes moving between both men then rested on Tony. "Jethro, could you step out a moment? Let me have a private chat?"

In response Gibbs seem to drift closer to DiNozzo as if to shield even as confusion creased his brow. A faint lifting of lips graced Mallard's face but his stance held authority. "Please, Jethro. I'll call you back in a few minutes."

Gibbs studied Ducky then Tony then turned in concise movements and left the room, closing the door behind him. Tony watched the scene play out, anxiety building as he wondered what had to be said in private... already knowing the answer... deep within...

"Sit down, Tony," Ducky ordered kindly as he also took a seat.

Tony... not Anthony... bad sign. Tony pulled out a chair and sat down. "Just lay it on the line, Ducky," he demanded. "I don't like preamble."

Mallard grunted in a faintly amuse fashion. "All right. I had the EMTs take blood from you at the scene for a reason." He folded his hands in front of him. "Jeffrey had killed three other men... before he killed Lane. While Gibbs was getting to you I had a chance to fully review their autopsy results. All of them had been... assaulted in one form or fashion. Only Lane was spared this. But his blood alcohol was well over the legal limit and was mixed with another drug... some homemade form of GHB."

GHB. Tony shivered. His mind flashed to a moment when Lane had held out the bottle to him... whiskey? DiNozzo was undercover, a hardened criminal... an escaped convict. It would have been suspicious to turn down at least a swallow, especially since it felt like a test. Jeffery's attraction to him was obvious and as far as he was concerned, benign. But Lane's expression was feral, even predatory. Still he had just seen the man take a swallow. If there was something in it and he just took a little he figured it would be all right... hopefully. The gesture seemed to satisfy his host who left the room.

But ten minutes later DiNozzo knew there was something wrong. He had planned to just lie on the bed and listen to any conversations the two men might have. But as the first flush of sensation rushed through his body, he knew even a swig had been a mistake. He didn't know what kind of constitution Lane had but Tony knew his own could be a bit sensitive. DiNozzo struggled to keep his eyes open but the bed felt so good after all he had been through. The relative warmth of the house was a balm after the wet and chill of the outside. He heard voices near him, knew he should pay attention but it was too much trouble...

I'm gonna do him!

DiNozzo was up, aggressively pacing as memories teased. GHB? He reached out a hand towards a chair as he turned around quickly and lost his balance. Balance. Vomiting. "Oh shit." His eyes widened as he saw the understanding in Mallard's eyes. Assaulted. "No."

Ducky pursed his lips. "Your blood alcohol was zero but there were faint traces of whatever they made you take in your system and it matched what we found in a liquor bottle lying on the floor of the cabin. That's why I had samples taken before you returned here. I wanted to be sure I could test for the drug in your system so I could monitor and make sure you didn't suffer any dangerous side effects." His eyes scanned over Tony. "You're blood pressure is a little low. But your heart is fine. Your reflexes are not up to their usual excellence but that will improve. Your bouts of nausea should fade. And your temper," he smiled at Tony; "Should calm by tomorrow."

Tony glared at him then growled and turned away as he accepted the truth of Ducky's words. He had been drugged with some form of a "date rape" drug. He wiped his hands over his eyes as he tried to remember. There had been voices... sharp voices... the odor of blood...

Tony shivered, pushing back the vague whispers. "They didn't do anything," he said in an attempt to convince himself and the Medical Examiner.


Gibbs...

I'll protect you...


"Tony, I want to examine you."

Anger and fear suddenly erupted from within. Control was lost. DiNozzo rounded on the older man, leaned into Mallard's personal space as he barely kept his temper in check. "No," he said simply... quietly... dangerously. "They didn't... do... anything... because I'd know... been there... done that..." He locked his eyes on him. "Got it?"

Ducky didn't seem the least intimidated but his eyebrows rose with indefinable emotion. "Yes, Anthony. I... got it."

Guilt filtered into the chaotic emotions claiming him. Tony straightened up and backed off. Ducky eyes followed him calmly, still unafraid but cautious. DiNozzo wanted to apologize but his darker, undercover soul wouldn't let him. He grabbed his jacket. Over two years. Good record. Hopefully. Of course as my father reminded me often enough... I wouldn't amount to being anything other than some terd on the streets... maybe he's right...

"I'm your friend, Tony," Ducky said clearly... firmly. "We're all your friends. I want to help you... make sure you're all right. It wouldn't be anywhere in your records. I promise you that."

Promise. DiNozzo studied him. Sincere. His rage receded back into that gray void he had been lurking in. "I know you're trying to help," he admitted. "But I know I'm okay... that way."

Mallard sighed then nodded. "The blood test results will have to be in my report but that will simply be a detail, along with your explanation that you were forced to consume whatever you were given. Everything else is confidential." He walked up to Tony. "Please take the time. Rest." He took out a card and handed it to DiNozzo. "That is my private address and cell number." He patted Tony's arm paternally. "Only Jethro and Gerald know... other than others who must know. Please call me for anything... anytime. All right?"

Tony's mouth went dry as he barely glanced at what he was given. The Holy Grail of information in the bullpen. Ducky's actual address and phone number. He didn't know why it was such a secret though he suspected the older man was many things before he was an NCIS Medical Examiner. If not for the circumstances he would have been grinning ear to ear as if he had just won the lottery but then he suspected he wouldn't have been worthy of getting the information to begin with. Now... He gave Mallard a shy grin, his mood swinging towards the positive for the moment.

"Thanks, Ducky," he said respectfully. He was never going to use it. As of Monday he would officially resign... find something else. The whole case had screwed him up, especially in what he could only barely remember... then not remember... then remember as something else... a long time ago...


Fucking fag! Fucking fag! This is what it's like to be a fucking fag!


"Anthony!"

Tony flinched away from the hand that gripped his shoulder then stopped before he struck out. "Don't touch me!" His vision was blurring. Damnit! I. Am. Not. Going. To. Cry! His roughly wiped his face. "I gotta go," he said abruptly without looking up.

Mallard presence drew closer then away in respect of what Tony asked. "My boy," he said, his voice a shade unsteady. "Please call me... and don't be afraid of Jethro. He... cares a great deal about you."

Ducky's tone advised. Warned. Tony stared at him in surprise. Gibbs cared? "He cares about all his agents." His eyes narrowed. "You're going to tell him... about the drug."

"I have to. It'll be in the report. But don't worry, Tony. It's not a mark against you. In fact it will explain possible vagueness in some parts of your report... hmm?"

Yeah. But it won't matter. Tony shrugged. "Tell him what you like," he said abruptly as his darker side returned to protect his heart from what he knew he needed to do. "I gotta go."

He opened the door... and found himself face to face with Jethro Gibbs who was leaning against the wall across the corridor. His supervisor's expression was expectant. DiNozzo gave his soon to be ex-boss a pleasant grin. "Hey, boss!"

Gibbs straightened up, his eyes on DiNozzo. "You all right?"

"Never better!" Tony put on his jacket. He would be as polite as his patience would allow then go. "See ya later!" He turned, determined to stay calm as he headed for the elevator doors. Maybe McGee would pack the few things he wanted from his desk and mail them.

"DiNozzo, wait!"

Hand on his arm... from behind... Tony pulled away and faced his attacker... his heart pounding into his throat as instinct conflicted with knowledge. Gibbs. "Don't fucking do that!" He held his hands up protectively. He didn't want to be touched... not by Gibbs. His emotions, dark and light, were too close to the surface after his talk with Ducky, too shadowed...

Gibbs also held up his own hands in a more gentling manner, making no contact but not backing down. "It's okay, To--"

"Shut the fuck up!" That was it. DiNozzo felt his patience nerve snap. "It's not okay, Gibbs!"

"Anthony."

Calm. Parental. Ducky. Tony saw him coming out of the conference room, his expression controlled. DiNozzo deflated and leaned against the wall, his eyes on the floor, less a foot from the elevator doors and freedom...

"You almost made me forget about those stitches, young man," Mallard said calmly. "Kindly go down to my office and wait then Gibbs will have a service drive you home. You're in no condition to drive on your own."

Hint... threat. Tony pounded his fists into the wall behind him but gave a short nod. Without looking at Gibbs he walked to the elevator doors and punched the button, relieved when he got an almost immediate response, further please when he saw the cab was empty. Once inside he was tempted to simply ignore Ducky's command and go to the parking garage. What difference did it make? But instead he pushed the button to lead him to the morgue and hoped Mallard's dorky assistant wasn't within range when he got out.