Part 3 - It's going to start getting a little heavy now... Read Parts 1 & 2 for ALL WARNINGS!


Blood. He had expected it. Smelled it on himself from the moment he pulled the trigger. The paramedics had cleaned his neck, even the side of his face before he could see himself. But the smell was still there... lurking...

Tony saw it right away as he finished stripping off his shirt. The initial spatter of blood before Jeffrey was thrown back, shot through the top of his head. DiNozzo stared at the stain. He hadn't had a chance to change. Gibbs had sent him to Ducky right away. What had been red was now dark and thick with little bits of what he was sure was body tissue. He had acted on instinct. As the first sting of Jeffrey's knife registered his hand went back was if it had a life of its own. The muzzle pressed beneath the other man's soft chin... his finger pulled the trigger without hesitation...


*Bam*


DiNozzo shook himself free of the tangent his mind had fallen on and dropped the shirt into the garbage. He quickly took of the rest of his clothes and tossed all of it, blood stained or not, into the small garbage pail, cursing as one piece of garment missed its mark. His underwear...

"Shit!" Annoyed Tony picked it up, ready to have it join the rest of the pile. Even clean he would never touch any of it again. But as his fingers gripped it he felt a stiffness, something spilled or--



Gibbs mouth, warm and moist, engulfed his cock. Tony's hands caressed the strands of hair, encouraging the sparks of pleasure that filled him then overflowed as he cried out... as Gibbs eagerly took his seed... swallowing...


You're inside me now, Tony. Inside. You're a part of me... inside me...



He didn't know when he started screaming but he was aware of being held, strong... hard... protected...


I'll protect you...


Tony fought but his captor held tighter... stronger... caring... From a distance he heard Gibbs' voice... speaking gently... commanding firmly... comforting directly...

"Tony, it's Jethro. Listen to me. Please listen to me. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm only holding you to make sure you don't hurt yourself. Come on, Tony. Come back to me. Tony..."

"Oh god!" Tony sobbed as he drew what seemed like his first breath. He lay on cold tile... his bathroom. He was naked but the one who held him was fully clothed. His arms and legs were held in a tight grip by the other's full body embrace. "Let go!" he cried out. It happened like this... middle of the night... when the other had been sober... too long...

"Shhh..." His captor relaxed a little but not enough for Tony to break free. "I'm not going to hurt you, Tony. It's Jethro. Do you understand?"

Jethro... Gibbs. Tony stopped fighting. Gibbs. Arms holding him relaxed further. Legs imprisoning him unwrapped themselves from his thighs. Disoriented, DiNozzo sniffled then coughed. He had been crying... screaming. He remembered--

"Just take a minute," Gibbs' quiet voice wafted past his ear from behind. "I swear to god I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax and show me you can keep it together. Okay?"

Okay. Feeling small... young... Tony merely obeyed. It was easier to obey. It didn't hurt as much...

"You with me, Tony?" Gibbs' voice was strained, careful.

DiNozzo drew a deep breath. It was cold. Only Gibbs' warmth held back chilled shivers. "I'm okay," he announced as his mind focused on the present, on what he had done-- Oh shit...

"Okay," Gibbs agreed and let him go, only touching to support as Tony struggled to sit up. "Just lean back. I'm going to get a few things for you and I'll be right back. Don't move."

His back resting against the cold, smooth surface of his shower door, Tony barely nodded as he stared at his knees which he just drew up against his chest. He heard Gibbs stand and move away. Things moved. Water ran. Then a pause.

"Come on, Tony. Let's get you up."

Tony flinched as a hand touched his shoulder. Ashamed and embarrassed he refused to look up. Refused to acknowledge. He had ruined everything... had lost control... and most times control was all he had. "I can handle it from here," he muttered. He wanted Gibbs to leave but he couldn't gather the guts to say so. If Gibbs left he'd be alone...

"We can handle it," Gibbs replied. His hand still rested on Tony's bare shoulder. "Let me help."

Choice. DiNozzo knew he could say no and it would be okay. But he couldn't say no.

"Come on, Tony." The gentle touch became a firm grip followed by another on his other shoulder. "Stand up."

Order. Matter of fact. Tony grunted as he stood, his hands automatically going to his privates, his embarrassment growing ten-fold as his eyes fastened to the floor.

"Here's a towel, Tony."

A large bath towel appeared in his line of vision. Tony sighed as he took it and quickly wrapped it around his waist. Instantly he felt more comfortable in Gibbs presence. "I really could use my robe," he ventured as he glanced up.

Gibbs' eyes were on him, full of concern and purpose. At Tony's comment his lips perked upwards. "I'm going to help clean you off then you can have your robe... or get dressed," he said casually. "The delivery guy should be here by then. Ducky said you needed to eat something and drink lots of fluids... but no alcohol for a couple of days."

DiNozzo wanted to feel comfortable with his boss' care and concern. On some level he was beginning to understand there was significance here. Gibbs was doing something he normally didn't do, even for "on of his own". "I can clean myself off, boss."

"Jethro." Gibbs held out a damp washcloth. "We're not working, Tony. Gibbs is the bastard you work with... I'm not... always."

There was no mistaking the message. There was a time when Tony would have leaped for joy. Now... he stared into Gi-- Jethro's eyes, seeing something he had only seen hints of in the past three years... an emotion that had so many others attached to it. No. He glanced away. "I--"

"Take the cloth," Jethro ordered quietly. "We'll take later... if you want."

Tony wiped down his hands and arms as Gibbs carefully concentrated on his upper back and shoulders, rinsing the cloth he had twice. Tony tried to glance aside, drawn to the sound, curious. But Gibbs' fingers were there to gently stop his head with a silent order for him not to look. Moments passed as he simply stood, letting Gibbs clean his back, relaxing a little at the casual contact... the friendly intimacy. Then he heard something plop on the floor and the washcloth taken out of his own hand.

"Close your eyes."

Gibbs was in front of him, holding up the washcloth he had taken out of Tony's hand. He had an expectant expression on his face. He wants to wash my face. The muscles of Tony's mouth tensed, ready to protest... politely. But the older man's stance was patient, making no move to do other than what he implied he would do. Trust. Gibbs wanted Tony's trust. I trust him. He smiled and closed his eyes.

The cloth was soft, brief and efficient, doing no more than expected yet held a gentle intimacy. Then it was done. Feeling better Tony opened his eyes and barely kept from gasping. Open appreciation. Gibbs eyes were wandering over him. Tony's cheeks tingled and he glanced away, unsure of what he wanted... there was so much. His eyes scanned the floor. The garbage pail had fallen over, spilling his discarded clothes. His underwear lay apart from the chaos. Alone. Drawing attention... reminding him of what had happened...

"I'll take care of this, Tony," his boss said as he put a hand on DiNozzo's shoulder, squeezing hard to get his attention. "Go get dressed. The delivery guy should be here any minute."

Gibbs would pick up his clothes... would see... "Boss, you don't have to pick up after me..."

"Go get dressed." Gibbs' voice was deeper, more Marine-like. Nervously Tony looked at him.

"I--"

"It's all right, Tony," the older man stated without judgment, without assumption. "Really."

Really. DiNozzo shivered. It was cold. He moved, meaning to get the underwear pants. Gibbs didn't need to see--

Hand on his arm stopped him. "It's okay, Tony. Honest. It's all right. I won't look." His boss cocked his head, his gaze direct. "I don't have to."

I don't have to.

Tony screwed his eyes shut, still reaching but held back. "Please," he pleaded, shivering with cold and fear.

Strong hands pulled him. Arms gathered him. Warmth embraced him, holding. Tony sniffled. It was too much. He so wanted Gibbs to hold him but not for the reason he was doing it now... out of pity...

"Boss--"

"Jethro," Gibbs said softly into his ear. "Just let me hold you, Tony. I just want to hold you. I was so afraid I was going to lose you..."

Tony absorbed this as he felt moisture escape down his cheeks. "I'm okay," he muttered as he tried to reassure, taken off guard by the deep emotions in his supervisor's voice. He hesitantly wound his own arms around Jethro as he sought to comfort. "I'm okay."

"I know." Jethro rocked him a little. His calloused hands rubbed over Tony's bare back. "Just let me hold you..."

For several seconds neither man spoke beyond a near silent sob from Tony as he relaxed into the older man's strength... in his own need feel connected to another human being...


*Knock. Knock.*


"Shit."

Tony blinked and pulled back, startled by the muffled noise and Gibbs' quiet curse. He could hardly remember the last time he heard his boss curse. Gibbs' blue eyes were on him, studying him. Hesitant. Tony watched curiously. What was going on? What did Gibbs want?

As if responding to the silent questions, Jethro gave him a tired smile. He raised the washcloth again and wiped at Tony's face, cleansing the skin of stray tears, a gesture that ended with a hint of playfulness as he touched Tony's nose. "Food," he apologized. He quickly scooped up all clothing, a reddened washcloth and the one he had just used into the bathroom's small garbage then tied the plastic liner and took it out. "Get dressed," he ordered as he spared the younger man a glance and left with the sealed bag.

Gone. Tony looked around as he worked to gather his scattered thoughts and emotions. Nothing of the last few minutes... the last few days remained in the bathroom, nothing but a kind of stiffness in the hair on the back of his head and a cruddy feeling at his groin.

Shower. He eyed the stall. He didn't have a tub... didn't want one... hadn't taken a bath since before he was sent away... redeemed... He glanced at himself in the mirror, frowning at the filth, inside and out. He dropped his towel and turned on the water...

"Tony."

DiNozzo jerked as he saw an abstract image appear on the other side of the shower door. He was dirty. He was trying to get clean. "I'm taking a shower," he stated pointedly. He had to get clean... get the filth out...

The image stilled. "You can't take a shower, Tony. Ducky said in a couple of days, when your stitches have closed."

A spark of discomfort then embarrassment tingled through him. He touched his neck. The band-aid Ducky had given him came away on one side and he felt the small sutures, the edges of flesh. He drew in a sharp breath as water flowed freely over the small cut... the knife cut. He had forgotten the Medical Examiner's warning... but he couldn't stop the shower. He was dirty. "I'll be careful, boss," he replied. "I gotta... wash the... shit out of my hair..." He didn't want to say blood... perhaps skin...

There was a moment's silence then the mosaic image shifted. "Let me help you, Tony. Can I open the door?" Pause. "Let me wash your hair... that should do it... right?"

Tony willed himself not to shiver. Some part of him wanted nothing better but- "I can take care of it," he said quickly. "Just let me wash off."

He heard a long sigh on the other side then suddenly cold air rushed in as the door was opened. Gibbs stood fully clothed, his expression neutral, his eyes attentive. "Tony, hand me your shampoo."

Order. Tony stared at the older man, lost. He was naked, exposed. He was dirty...

Gibbs gave him a reassuring nod as he reached in and took the bottle from the shelf above the soap. "Just turn to your side," he said. "And lean your head back. It won't take more than a minute."

Unsettled. Unsure. Yet he trusted... Tony swallowed and turned. A moment later strong fingers closed around his scalp, working efficiently as they spread the soapy substance through his hair, rubbing vigorously at the nape of his neck.

"Step back and rinse, DiNozzo."

Order. Tony refused to think as he obeyed, running his own hands through his hair, feeling the other man's lingering touch through the strands. Believing that at least... there... he was clean.

As Tony raised his head back up the water was turned off. A towel was wrapped around his waist and tucked then a firm hand gripped his arm. "Come on, Tony. Let's get you dry."

Before he could protest he was pulled from the steamy interior out into the bathroom. His face and head were engulfed in a towel that quickly dried, taking care at his neck. "That's going to take longer to close," Gibbs commented without judgment as he carefully pulled the rest of the band-aid off Tony's neck, his finger following to gently sooth.

"Gibbs." Tony tensed as an uncomfortable but not unwelcomed sensation whispered through him. Nervously he pulled away, his eyes everywhere but on man beside him.

"Jethro," Gibbs corrected patiently. "And don't be afraid, Tony. If you don't want me to touch you... I won't, except to make sure you're safe. And you can deal with that on whatever level feels good for you."