Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

  Chapter One

Tony DiNozzo groaned deep in his chest as he wondered if anyone had gotten the license plate of the garbage truck that had hit him. As he lay prone, slowly regaining consciousness, he recalled the circumstances that had brought him to whatever his current predicament was. He had been tailing Sacco and they went to that bar where Atlas was last seen. Somehow, his drink had been doctored. He recalled stumbling toward his car, calling Gibbs, and passing out.

Now, Tony lay still, not wanting to let his captor know he was conscious until he could gather information on what he had gotten himself into this time. He could smell - ugh - rank, rotting, garbage smells and - was that? - yep, decomp. There was no mistaking the smell of a rotting corpse. You smelled that odor one time, you never forgot it. It ingrained itself into your sense memory and if you smelled it again, you knew what it was. It was fairly strong, so pretty recent, maybe a couple of weeks. Hopefully, it wasn’t Atlas.

Tony listened intently, trying to hear if his captor was near. He heard a rhythmic thumping sound and very loud dripping and running water but not really pipes. Maybe there was a stream or creek nearby. The thumping sound had him stumped though. It was a regular sound. Not terribly catchy, so not musical. But there was an occasional discordant thump. And a rattle underneath the thumping. Tony couldn’t figure it out. But he did hear someone breathing. Loudly. Like they were trying to be the opposite of stealthy. Or had really bad asthma. Or something.

Tony slit his eyes open the barest bit and saw a concrete ceiling above his head. It was very dirty and looked damp. Not soaking wet but moldy and most definitely not clean. Whatever lair he was in, the bad guy didn’t have a maid or a butler in to clean it. So, that eliminated one suspect. The butler didn’t do it if there wasn’t a butler.

Tony rolled his eyes, mentally. He was obviously still punchy from the drugs he had been knocked out with. That wasn’t even close to being a good reference. It had nothing to do with the case at all. It was all about the marines, no rich guys, no one with a staff to clean for them. Why would he even think that Sacco (presumably the one who somehow got to his drink) would have someone come in to clean his lair? No, by the looks and smell and sound of this place, lair it was not. It was more like a dungeon.

Where the hell would a marine get a dungeon? And why take Tony? He could have just lost him. He didn’t have any backup. If he was going to drug him, why bring him to his killing floor? And killing floor this obviously was if the stench of that decomposing corpse was anything to go by. Just drug him and put him somewhere out of the way, like the trunk of his car or behind a dumpster - or in a dumpster. Stupid criminals. Tony was a federal agent and would get himself out of this and have all the evidence he needed to convict. The guy had dumped him right in it. Literally if the dampness soaking through his shirt meant anything. Ewww.

Tony decided it was time to get up and work on getting out and getting the evidence to Gibbs. He rolled his head and his eyes, now half open, caught sight of Atlas. He was chained to the wall and was wheezing. Opening his eyes fully, Tony saw the corpse he had been smelling. But it was a lot older than he had thought. It was nearly fully decomposed. How the hell was the smell so strong? It didn’t make sense.

Then Atlas began coughing and the thumping and rattling Tony was hearing changed pitch. As Tony’s mind ran through the evidence his own breath caught. He put it all together, and came to a startling and somewhat disturbing realization. He understood why the corpse smelled so strong once he knew the thumping he heard was Atlas’ heartbeat and the rattling was obviously his lungs. He likely had pneumonia or some sort of chest infection from his time in captivity in this damp dungeon. Tony shook his head. No, the dripping and swishing water, the concrete ceiling with mildew and mold, it wasn’t a dungeon. It was the sewer system!

And Tony had come online. He was a Sentinel.

Shit!

Tony shook minutely as he, Gibbs, and Kate stepped onto the elevator at NCIS. He had escaped the sewers and kept Atlas alive. Sacco had died and hadn’t been the real bad guy in the first place. The waitress had. It explained the drugged drink at least. And she was batshit. Totally gone. That explained her taking him to Atlas when he spooked her.

Tony was mentally kicking himself as he tried to block out the sounds and sights and smells all around him. His clothes were hurting where they pressed against his skin, he could feel the beginnings of a migraine from the overwhelming brightness of the lights, he reeked of the sewer and the decomp of the corpse he had shared the space with.

He had tried to use his senses to get them out of the sewer but without having any practice or experience with the enhanced nature of them, he had only succeeded in leading them into a dead end. It hadn’t helped that he had been trying to use the senses while at the same time keeping them reined in, as without a Guide and with no history of using them in this new way, he had been terrified of zoning and getting himself and his charge killed.

Now, he was trying to focus. He was safe. Atlas was safe. Gibbs and Kate had taken out the bad guy - um - girl. Tony could hear Kate’s heartbeat. And Gibbs’. He really like the nearly musical sound of his boss’ thumping. Kate’s sounded discordant to him, like Atlas’ had, though not indicative of sickness, just off somehow. But Gibbs’ heartbeat sounded like the bass drums of Tony’s favorite soundtrack, though it didn’t really. It felt like that, though..

Tony shook his head. He was crashing from the adrenaline rush and the remnants of the drugs. In an attempt to stave it off, he began babbling to Gibbs.

“Admit it, you were worried about me. Right? You don’t have to say anything, I know.”

Tony heard Gibbs heart speed up a tad, but his boss’ mouth remained silent and Tony’s heart pounded in his chest at the thought that he could be wrong.

“Okay, I want you to say it. You care, right?” And with that, Gibbs moved off as the elevator doors opened. Tony hurried after him, his breath speeding up.

“So, you’re saying you don’t care?” Tony raised his hand wanting to touch his boss, to get reassurance, to know that he meant something to the older man. He didn’t quite dare, especially as they turned the corner and Gibbs turned to face him.

“Tony, as far as I’m concerned,” Gibbs began. The silver-haired man raised his arms and briefly cupped the younger man’s face before his hands fell again, and pointed at him, “You’re irreplaceable.”

Tony’s apprehension slid away as a grin crossed his face. The sounds of the rest of the building faded away as his senses began centering on the touch that had caressed his face for so short a time. He heard Gibbs’ heartbeat louder than before. The smell of decomp was overwhelmed by the scent of coffee and sawdust and Old Spice. The lights which had blinded him a moment ago began to dim to normal. He turned to Kate. “I knew it.”

And he had suspected it. Gibbs was his Guide. Now, he just had to find a way to explain what had happened and hopefully convince him to bond. Tony walked forward with a huge grin, apprehensive but knowing he could trust his boss.

Then he stopped short for a moment as he saw Agent McGee at his desk. He shook off the moment of shock. Obviously the younger man had been brought in to help find him and Atlas and Tony’s desk was in the heart of the action. It was fine. Until Gibbs spoke.

“Forget about it, McGee. He’s still alive.”

Tony’s breath stuttered as the smile dropped from his face. Gibbs didn’t mean it. His Guide didn't mean it. His body began to resume its minute shaking. His Guide - Gibbs - he didn’t mean it that way, the way it sounded, he didn’t.

McGee smiled brightly and the reflection off his teeth almost blinded the shocked Sentinel. His head began pounding again as his Sentinel felt the withdrawing of the brief connection that had been made with the Guide. All of his previous issues returned, leaving him feeling worse than before, the reprieve making the enhancements seem to double. Tony could feel himself falling into the white of McGee’s smile, zoning on it, until Kate bumped him from behind on her way to her desk.

Tony closed his eyes for a minute before a grim smile crossed his face. He would have to learn to control this himself. Or go to the Sentinel Guide Center. Though that could cost him his field status unless he could prove he could keep control on his own. Without a guide. Without his Guide. The Guide who opened himself to Tony, only to slam the door in his face as he was crossing the threshold. He would do it. He would find a way. This wasn’t going to beat him!

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Tony sat on the leather love seat in the office of the service coordinator at the Sentinel & Guide Center in downtown D.C. It had been slightly over a year since he had come online in the sewer and promptly been subconsciously rejected by Gibbs.

The first three months had been difficult and he had worked hard to control his newly enhanced senses on his own. He hadn’t wanted to report his new status as he feared what Gibbs would do. He couldn’t bear the idea of being completely rejected by the man he knew was his Guide. And he worried if he told Gibbs he was online he would be transferred to another team or even forced to leave NCIS.

Tony had done surreptitious searches for information on controlling or even suppressing his senses. He had gotten control of them fairly quickly at work. He tried his best not to use them but sometimes it just happened anyway. And that often led to spectacular screw ups. Like the situation with the blonde jogger in the park who turned out to be a terrorist and whose pheromones had overwhelmed his senses and led to him nearly being killed. If Ari hadn’t put a bullet in her head when he kidnapped Kate…

Or when he was chained to Jeffrey White. His senses had been completely out of whack and the drugged liquor he had been forced to drink had made things a hundred times worse. He had nearly been killed by a serial killer because he had trusted and believed him. It had been a matter of seconds.

But after three months, Tony had felt secure enough in his control to go to the S & G Center to report that he was online. They had tested him over a long weekend and agreed that he didn’t need to be removed from the field at that time. His coordinator had informed him that if he started to experience zones or spikes, things would need to re-evaluated. But until then, he should attend the mixers when he could and report in every week with updates on his status and come in quarterly for a full check.

He was here for that quarterly check.

His coordinator at the S & G Center was a bonded Guide named Marie Simkins. She was in her late 30s, and had long dark brown hair which she always seemed to keep back in a ponytail or braid. Maria had exceptionally long legs to go with her five foot eleven inch frame. She had light brown eyes and a soft, musical voice.

Tony knew that was a function of her Guide gifts. She used the Voice to keep him calm and centered during their appointments. It felt manipulative but the federal agent still appreciated it. He knew without it, her bonded status would be painful for him to bear. Even with it, at times the emptiness inside him she couldn’t fill was like knives in his chest.

“Well, Tony, how have things been going over the past three months? Any zones I don’t know about? Spikes?”

Tony nodded. “I’ve had three zones in the past week. And several spikes in the touch and smell areas.”

“That isn’t good, Tony.”

He shook his head wryly. “There was a catalyst. My car was stolen just over a week ago. The first zone occurred when I was on the bus. I missed my stop because I had zoned out on the IPod of the woman riding in the seat next to me. I didn’t mean to but she kept changing the volume and it would catch my attention and then she would turn it down and I followed it to keep listening. I got knocked out of the zone five streets past my stop when she got up and pushed me to get out of the way. Then when we found my car, it was on live television. The thief was in a high speed chase with the cops and ended up totaling my car. I started to zone on the pixels of the screen when my boss head-slapped me. And since it was stolen, I’ve been driving a rental car and well, they aren’t exactly detailed to a Sentinel’s specifications or needs, and they don’t use Sentinel-friendly cleaners, either. I broke out in a rash from just using the steering wheel and gear shift. And the smells - I had to leave the windows open constantly, even when I wasn’t going to be in the car for over forty-eight hours. Even now, I can still catch the cleaning solution’s odor, and someone was smoking marijuana in that car in the past month or so. And either they or someone else was using the car to get lucky. The smell of sex was quite strong when I first got in the car. It isn’t as noticeable now. But I miss my car. It was mine, you know? For a long time.”

“It was part of your territory. Tony, it seems odd to mundanes but you felt so much for that car due to your history with it and the emotional attachment you had to it, that you made it part of your territory. It was your space. Your personal, private, place to connect with. And it was ripped away and you could only watch as it was destroyed. It would have been easier on you if you were bonded but even then, you would have had some issues, Tony. And the situation with the rental car certainly isn’t helping.”

Tony smiled. “Thanks, Marie. No one understood. I mean, yeah, no one at work knows I’m online, but they are mundane, regardless. I didn’t even understand my - well, I thought, my overreaction to the whole thing. But now - yeah, okay, I get it. And I won’t be able to buy a new car until the insurance payment comes through, probably another few weeks, maybe a month. Until then, the rental is a better bet than the bus.”

“All right. I agree the bus is a bad idea for you. But do you want to try a conservator again? I know you won’t have them at work due to not being out there but at home and on the drives to and from?”

Tony chuckled, his green eyes sparkling in dark amusement. “That didn’t work very well the last five times we tried, Marie. None of the conservators could help me. I know they told you I couldn’t ground my senses on them at all. Every time I tried, I got caught in a zone. Every fucking time. And it was always painful.”

Marie sat forward. “Yes. I’ve been wondering about that. Is there something you haven’t told us, Tony? I have a theory about the problem and I might be able to help if you tell me what I think you’re holding back.”

The young man sighed deep in his chest and swallowed. “Okay. Yeah. I’m nearly positive that I’ve found my Guide. And he rejected me. But not consciously! I didn’t tell him or anything! But I - well - I see him all the time. He’s - well - it’s my boss. Gibbs. Just after I came online, I think we started to bond, platonic level, and he shut it down within seconds. Subconsciously. I don’t even know if he knows that he’s a Guide. He might. But if he does, he doesn’t really use his Guide gifts at work and he certainly isn’t out there. Like me. I’m not out there - no one at work knows I’m online and I don’t want to tell him because I’m afraid he’ll completely reject me out loud and with meaning and I just - I can’t not be around him, Marie. I won’t force myself on him in any way. But just be near him helps settle me. And he brings me out of zones so easily without even realizing.”

Marie nodded. “I thought you might have a partial bond. And you do. It isn’t sealed off, Tony. If it was, conservators wouldn’t cause you pain. The bond is at least partially open on his end for that to happen.”

Tony rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh. “Wonderful. So, I just have to make it work. Live with what little I can get from him. I can do that. I have been so far.”

Marie smiled lightly. “Or you can try talking to him, Tony. Explaining things might get you more than you bargain for. After all, his Guide gifts, whether he uses them or not, whether he consciously realizes it or not, his inner self is reaching out to yours. I know you’ve been working on meditating a little. Have you ever seen another spirit animal than your own? Think about it.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open as he remembered his last two meditation sessions. His coyote had been there, its head on his lap as he rubbed its ears, but high above, soaring in the sky, he had seen a bird. A hawk or eagle or some bird of that type. He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, being in a blue field was weird enough. But could that have been Gibbs’ spirit guide?

Marie Simkins (Guide)

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was standing in the bullpen listening to his Senior Field Agent joke around with the other agents about girls and letters. Then he watched in stunned horror as time seemed to slow down and DiNozzo blew on the envelope and was enveloped in a fine white powder. What in reality took only a couple of seconds stretched out to seem much longer in the older man’s perspective.

Then suddenly time seemed to resume and Gibbs felt the younger man’s fear and worry from across the bullpen. And from two other sides were echoes on that fear, for their team mate and themselves. And as he climbed on his desk to give orders to the entire floor, his seemingly nonexistent shields were further eroded by fear, panic, horror, worry, and anger from other agents in the building.

Gibbs pushed hard inside himself, trying to shove his empathy down behind the strong walls he had erected after the death of his family. But it kept making holes almost as quickly as he patched them. As he stood under the water in the showers, decontaminating his body, his mind was getting swamped with emotions from his fellow bathers. The strongest was from DiNozzo. He felt the younger man’s worry for himself and fear for his team under a fine layer of humor which while his words were solid, had no true emotional foundation. It was a front for him, a mask, used to deflect the team from their worry and fear and the Italian’s sense of self loathing for causing the problem in the first place. That self anger and disgust was getting stronger by the minute and Gibbs was almost drowning, not from the water pounding his head, but the feelings pounding his heart.

The older man couldn’t understand it. Throughout the day, as DiNozzo and Kate were taken to Bethesda and he worked with McGee and Cassie to find a cure, Gibbs struggled with his shields. He and the team had been in bad situations before, but he had never had so much trouble with his gifts.

And when he confronted the insane, dying instigator of the whole crisis, he was nearly feral. When the scientist explained the woman had misunderstood and there was no cure, but there was a suicide chain, it was only by the smallest of margins Gibbs was able to keep himself from going completely over the edge into a feral moment and ripping him and the older woman apart.

Then, when he barged into the isolation unit, and DiNozzo - Tony - looked so horrible under the blue lights - Gibbs realized the younger man truly might not make it. He was fighting for his life and there wasn’t any way Gibbs could help him, keep him safe. It was an agonizing moment.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He reached out with his Gift, his voice, and after smacking the other man lightly on the head, he ordered him not to die. And in that moment, in that instant as the order echoed between them, Gibbs saw his hawk, the spirit guide he hadn’t seen in years, over a decade, land on the back of DiNozzo’s bed, lean down and preen the man’s hair.

“Got it, boss.”

And Gibbs was flooded with a profound sense of peace. And love.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Tony stood next to the car, looking at the two dead sailors inside, and wondering if he should have taken that extra week of sick leave. He admitted, if only to himself, that he was not feeling at the top of his game. He was more tired than usual and was having definite trouble with his senses. Of course, the problems with his senses had been happening for some time.

Tony had first noticed he was struggling more than he had since he had first come online when he was about three days into his “recovery” from the plague. He had still been in the hospital, though in a private room rather than the isolation unit, undergoing tests and healing up enough to be trusted on his own. And as he spent more time conscious and less time coughing up his lungs, he began to hear things from the nurse’s station. The problem being, his room was at the very end of the corridor and the nurse’s station was a good fifty feet or more away. And when he tried to suppress his senses or even dial them down, it didn’t work very well. They started spiking. He developed a rash on his wrist from the IV tubing and on his back from the sheets. His hearing would sometimes be so extended that he was sure he was hearing the parking lot and at other times, he couldn’t even hear his own heartbeat. His nose was irritated by the hospital disinfectant and he found himself sneezing a lot, which really hurt, considering how sore he was from the coughing that had accompanied the plague. And he was very glad he was on a bland diet of mostly liquids. He was pretty sure any level of spice would have overwhelmed his taste buds.

In the end, he had told Dr Pitt he was an online sentinel and the former Wolverine had promised to keep it confidential - not even share it with Ducky. But it had allowed him to ease some of Tony’s suffering. He’d made sure the sheets and everything else in the room was Sentinel friendly, so at least, Tony’s spiking was minimized, except for his hearing and occasionally his sense of smell.

Thinking on it, Tony realized his senses were reaching out to find his Guide. It only became clear to him when Gibbs came to visit. His senses had locked onto the other man in a way they hadn’t since he’d first escaped the sewer system over a year before. Tony couldn’t understand it until he reviewed his memories of his time in isolation. Then it hit him. Gibbs had touched him again and reached out, with his Gifts, when he told him not to die. They had connected again and this time, Gibbs hadn’t pulled it back. The connection was still open. It wasn’t a full bond by any means but it was decidedly more than what Tony had been dealing with over the past year.

During his sick leave, he had gone to the S & G Center and had an emergency meeting with Marie. She had told him that this was a step in the right direction and he needed to have that conversation he’d been putting off. Otherwise, when he was back to work, Gibbs might pull back again and Tony could decompensate, having gotten used to the more open connection with his Guide. If that happened, he could potentially end up in a fatal zone-out when his senses searched for the connection that was again missing.

Tony still remained stubborn and hoped to avoid the conversation. But he was waiting to see what happened over this case. If Gibbs pulled away, he would bite the bullet. But if things remained steady at the current level, Tony had decided to leave it alone. He could deal with it, especially since it was more than he had gotten over the past year.

But Tony had decided to come back to work early, since his senses were constantly searching for Gibbs’ heartbeat and scent, the two things he had definitely imprinted on. It had been hell for the week in the hospital and the two weeks he had spent at home recovering already. But just getting to this crime scene had caused him issues. He knew his body wasn’t fully recovered and he really should have stayed home but he had felt the trade off of his poor physical condition for a connection with his Guide was one he was willing to pay. But standing here, as he bantered with Kate about the snake, he wasn’t so sure. It was taking all that he had not to wheeze from the pollen in the air and the smell of blood and the early stages of decomposition.

“Such a loser,” Kate grumbled as she pushed Tony onto his back when McGee revealed Tony was lying about the snake being poisonous. “All right, back to work. McGee, check the trunk.”

Tony didn’t hear the rest of Kate’s instructions: when he’d been closer to the ground, his nose had caught a smell that should not be present. He was trying to isolate it when he heard an ominous sound as McGee inserted and turned the key in the car’s trunk lock. He glanced at the car and saw the red light and the bomb.

“Freeze, McGee! Don’t move!” Tony barked the order harshly as he scrambled to his feet. “Car’s wired to explode,” he explained in a calmer, lower voice. “Looks like the detonator’s tied to the trunk.”

“What?” McGee’s voice was high pitched in his fear.

“How far did you turn the key?” Kate demanded of the younger man.

“I’m not sure, almost all the way, I think,” he replied.

Tony, meanwhile, listened to their conversation but also examined the trunk and its attachment with his senses. He could identify the smell now as C4 and could hear the humming in the wires signalling it was ready to explode once the key completed its cycle.

He spoke softly, “Okay, don’t let it snap back,” as he reached for the key, his hands sliding onto the other man’s, determined to protect his team mates - his Tribe. “All right?”

“Yeah.” McGee’s hands trembled but his fingers remained in position as the older man’s fingers slid so carefully around them and put pressure on the metal and plastic.

“Okay, let go.”

McGee listened and back away as Tony took over holding the key in place. “Okay, both of you run!” He gazed down at the key, trying to see if he could jam it into place, keeping it from snapping back.

Kate protested his decision but the senior agent ordered her to go. He would protect the Tribe. His inner Sentinel would not give him any other choice. Not that he would have let either of them do it in his place, regardless. He was the senior field agent and it was his job. Besides, call him a chauvinist but he wouldn't let a woman do something like this and McGee, well, he wasn’t exactly in shape enough to get away. And neither of them had his enhanced senses to give them an edge.

The two younger agents took off up the hill and Tony muttered the thoughts that had been running through his mind since he got to the crime scene. “Anthony, you should have taken that extra week.”

Tony waited until he heard Kate and McGee reach the road, fairly certain the bomb wasn’t large enough to do any damage there. And if it was, they were all screwed anyway. Especially since he could tell, his ears and his nose, at least, the bomb wouldn’t necessarily wait for the key to snap back into home position before detonating. There wasn’t a timer as far as he could tell, but the bomb was more than primed. It was possible the key had already begun turning back and McGee hadn’t realized it when Tony had seen and smelled the bomb. Or maybe it was just a “safety” feature the bomb maker had built in. A way to make detonation more assured. Tony didn’t think they would ever really know. He hoped he survived this but if he didn’t, he was very glad he hadn’t had that conversation with Gibbs. If they had been fully bonded and Gibbs had died, it was likely he would have died alongside Tony. Or been majorly damaged, mentally.

Tony braced himself, ready to run, then released his hold on the key as his legs began sprinting up the hill and his ears heard the detonator send its signal to the C4. The bomb exploded and the force of the shockwave sent Tony slamming into the hillside, but luckily he had been correct. The bomb had taken out the car and would have killed anyone within fifteen feet or so, but the explosion wasn’t large enough to reach the road.

Tony carefully dragged himself up the remainder of the hill, his ears ringing, having not turned down the sense in time because he had been tracking the explosion to get away from it. He heard muffled noises above him and saw his team sitting and lying on the ground where the explosions had tossed them. They were all facing him when he reached the crime scene tape. He was in pain but the sight brought him true joy. They weren’t hurt. He had protected his Tribe. He decided to try to lighten everyone else’s mood.

“Boss,” he wheezed as he finished climbing the hill and pushed at the crime scene tape. “Remember when I said I never felt better?”

Tony’s vision began narrowing and his ears were ringing louder than before, his arms shaking and no longer willing to hold up his battered body. “I lied.”

Tony collapsed into unconsciousness.

Tony knelt over his teammate’s body on the roof of a warehouse, reaching for the neck where he could see her pulse beating. Beside him Gibbs, his pulse pounding in Tony’s ears, pulled open her jacket, revealing a beautiful Kevlar vest with a flattened bullet embedded in it. Tony had been pretty sure she wasn’t bleeding because he didn’t smell it, but he’d been worried that with an incomplete, unacknowledged bond, his senses weren’t working the best they could be; there had been several terrorists shot on the roof and the smell of their blood filled the air.

Gibbs let out his breath at the sight of the vest, and Tony smiled and asked, “You okay?”

Kate let out a pained moan. “I just got shot at point blank range, DiNozzo. What do you think?”

Tony tried to relieve her tension. “That you’re not going to be going to pilates class tomorrow?”

Gibbs cracked a grin at the other man’s joke and Kate groaned more as they helped her to her feet. Tony relaxed into himself and turned his sense of smell back down, muting the odors of the firefight and the corpses it had left behind. As Gibbs and Kate talked, Tony turned up his hearing which he had turned slightly below normal in order to not be deafened by the gunfire. He scanned for any remaining terrorists in the building while Kate got her balance.

Gibbs looked at the former Secret Service agent who had just taken a bullet for him. “Protection detail’s over, Kate.”

Tony listened for any extraneous heartbeats other than his own, Gibbs’, Kate’s, and McGee’s in the alley below. To hide his preoccupation, he spoke, “You did good.”

Gibbs nodded. “For once, DiNozzo’s right.”

Kate laughed lightly. “Wow,” she said.

Tony’s eyes widened as his ears picked up something that shouldn't be: the slide of a rifle cocking into firing position. He turned up his eyesight and scanned around, catching sight of a rifle barrel on a relatively nearby roof. Behind the rifle, he could see a forehead and dark hair. He tensed as Kate continued, “I thought I’d die before -”

Tony heard and saw the bullet leave the barrel and dove forward, knocking Kate into Gibbs and sending all three of them sprawling to the ground. He heard a distant voice whisper, “Sorry, Caitlin.”

“Stay down!” The Sentinel hissed at his coworkers. “He was aiming at Kate, boss, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking you out if he realizes he missed!” As he spoke, Tony’s sense of touch began to spike as the pain in his shoulder registered and he realized the bastard hadn’t missed. Tony had taken the bullet and it had penetrated his vest and was currently sitting in his upper back.

“DiNozzo!” Gibbs barked at the younger man. “What was that for?”

“What do you mean he was aiming for me, Tony?”

Tony hitched a breath as he slid carefully off his co-workers, keeping his head down below the lip of the roof. “Ari. I heard the - bullet coming. And he - apologized to - Kate, af-after the shhh-shot. He was try-try-ing to kill you. I - don’t think - he knows that he - missed but - uh - I can’t - concentrate right now. I can’t hear. He - ugh - he didn’t - to-totally m-m-miss, b-b-boss. I don’t th - ugh - think it’s too bad - but - ugh - it hurts like - ugh - ugh - hell! It - It’ssssss - ugh - distracting.”

Gibbs’ eyes widened in stunned realization as the clues from the past weeks hit him: Tony was a Sentinel and he was online! As he lay in shock, Kate crawled over him, groaning at her sore ribs, and approached the downed agent, carefully remaining below the roof line.

“Tony,” she spoke in a soft tone and slowly, “where did it hit?”

“Upper b-b-back.”

Kate nodded and tapped her headset to make sure she was transmitting to McGee. “McGee, we have an agent down. I repeat, agent down. DiNozzo has taken a long range rifle shot to the back. He’s awake and talking but in a lot of pain.”

Over the ear piece, Tony heard the stuttering reply, “G-got it. C-calling it in.”

Tony spoke up, to the younger man, “I’ll be - o-okay, McG - goo. J-just call - it in - and k-keep your own h-head - ugh - down. H-he might ssssss - ugh - still be around. C-c-can’t tell.” Tony’s teeth chattered as his body entered the beginning stages of shock.

Kate slid out of her coat and balled it up, pressing it against his wound. Gibbs crawled over to them, and place one hand over Kate’s, helping with the pressurization. The other hand swept Tony’s hair from his forehead and stayed on top of his head.

Gibbs consciously reached for his Gifts and using the Voice that he knew had saved the other man a few weeks before, he again reached out to give him strength to fight off the Grim Reaper. “You will not die, Tony! You will stay here.”

Tony’s green eyes met his boss’ - his Guide’s - blue eyes. He nodded.

Gibbs quirked a small smile and raised an eyebrow. “I think there’s something you want to tell me, DiNozzo.”

Tony closed his eyes and released a sigh. “L-l-later, b-b-boss. Pr-promise. L-l-laterrrrr.”

Tony lost the fight against the pain, increased by the pressure on the wound, and passed out. Gibbs reached for his neck and kept his hand on Tony’s pulse point, murmuring to Kate, “He just fainted.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Tony lay in the hospital bed at Bethesda, in their special Sentinel unit. He had been stitched up and Dr Brad Pitt had even stopped by to check on him and his recovery from the plague. He was on specially blended pain killers, designed to work on Sentinels. Tony was very glad that his doctors here now knew his status because even before coming online he’d had odd reactions to standard medicines, and over the past year, the handful of times he’d been given meds and was unable to avoid taking them, his behavior had been - wildly uncontrollable. He had mood swings, was often manically high, followed by deep moments of depression. He rambled and had absolutely no mouth filter. If he thought it, it popped out. He tried to spend those times alone in his apartment but there had been a few unavoidable moments when others had been present, leading to high embarrassment on Tony’s part when he was lucid and sober again.

Now, he was waiting for Gibbs to come in. The doctors had kept him and Kate in the waiting room while he was being treated as they were worried about his senses and wanted to keep outside distractions to a minimum. If he and Gibbs had been fully bonded, things would have been different, at least as far as the Guide being present. But in the circumstances, the doctors felt his presence could have been detrimental to their treatment.

Now, though, Tony was treated and ready to be released in a few hours. It being the first time that Tony had taken these particular drugs, he needed to be monitored for any adverse reactions. So, for the next three hours, he was stuck in the hospital bed and was a captive audience for his Guide’s lecture and the talk they needed to have.

The Sentinel watched the door, the white noise generators keeping him from hearing beyond it. Not that he couldn’t if he dialed all the way up but there was no point and would just be risking a zone or other complication. So, Tony simply waited and watched. He knew that as soon as the doctors told Gibbs Tony was available to visitors, he would come storming in. The question was: Who else, besides Kate and probably McGee, was here? If Abby and Ducky were here, Gibbs would have a much harder time with the idea of a solo visit, unless the docs cooperated with him and said one at a time.

Frankly, Tony thought he would rather face Gibbs alone than Abby or Ducky or Kate, let alone all of them together, when not only was his secret out, but he was battling fatigue and injury. Assuming of course Kate had picked up on what he had said and didn’t just assume he was talking out of his ass. Or lying. Truthfully, Kate was becoming a much better investigator in the field, and had done really well with the protection detail (until the very end) but she was a truly horrible profiler. She took things at face value too much, she didn’t look for masks or hidden motivations. And she tried her very best to see only the best in everyone around her.

If Kate had missed the implications, then it was possible only Gibbs knew he was a Sentinel. Tony sighed deeply, regretting it when he started coughing. Patience would tell the tale. Either Gibbs alone or Gibbs et al would be coming in momentarily.

As he got his breathing under control, a visitor appeared in his room, though not one of the ones he was expecting. His spirit animal, a large male coyote he had named Goldberg, after the traps in the Road Runner cartoons, stalked across the room and leapt onto the bed, nudging Tony’s thigh with his nose.

Tony knew what this meant, and carefully moved his legs to the side so Goldberg could fit and put his head in Tony’s lap without crushing his legs with any weight. Then the coyote nudged Tony’s good arm and after a year, he knew the cue. Tony began scratching between his spirit animal’s ears and behind its neck.

He was absorbed in this calming task when the now unwatched door opened and Gibbs walked in. Alone.

“No one else coming in, boss?”

Gibbs glared at the injured agent in the bed.”Everyone’s in the waiting room but the docs said they wanted me to come in alone, first. They’ll be coming in half an hour or so.”

Tony nodded. “Just Kate and McGee or …”

“And Abby and Ducky.”

“Okay, so according to the docs -”

Gibbs stepped forward until he was right next to the bed. “Stop stalling, DiNozzo!” He looked down at the coyote in the younger man’s lap. “You’re a Sentinel!”

Tony gave a little grin. “I am. Online. All five senses. Fully active.”

Gibbs grunted, “Since when?”

Tony held the other man’s eyes with his own, refusing to back down. “Since I was in the sewer with Atlas. Just over a year now.”

“DiNozzo! You’ve been lying to me for a year!”

Tony shook his head. “Just withholding information, boss. You never asked if I was a Sentinel.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, DiNozzo. You can’t keep a secret this big from the team. Rule  number one: Never screw over your partner! Or your team. This secret could have gotten you or someone else killed.”

“Rule number four: if you have a secret, keep it!” Tony leaned forward.

“Rule fifteen: always work as a team, DiNozzo!”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Gibbs. You keep secrets all the time. And you go off all lone cowboy. You don’t let us have your back. You just did it the other day when you had coffee with the fucking insane whackjob who wants to kill you!” Tony took a breath and leaned back in the bed, still maintaining eye contact. “You can’t do this Gibbs. You have to let us be there for you. You aren’t alone. Let us help you, let us protect you.”

Gibbs glanced away for a moment. “We’re getting away from the topic here.” He met his agent’s eyes again. “You’re an online, unbonded Sentinel doing fieldwork at a federal agency. You can’t do that with any level of safety. You need to go to the Sentinel & Guide Center and get a conservator if they can’t find your Guide.”

Tony barked a harsh laugh. “Yeah, Gibbs, I’m not stupid. I tried that. I’ve been going to the S & G Center regularly. I have a coordinator there. And we’ve tried around a half dozen different conservators over the past year. They don’t work. They make it worse. The problem is I have a partial bond and I ground my senses there, usually subconsciously.”

“A partial bond?”

“Yeah. My Guide started a bond with me and then pulled back from it, leaving me hanging, neither unbonded nor bonded, neither yin nor yang, neither black nor white, neither in nor out, just stuck in the middle.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re not usually this dim. No, I take that back,” Tony drawled, “on this subject, you are definitely dim, purposefully dim unless I miss my guess.”

Gibbs’ brows lowered.

“You’re a Guide, Gibbs. You’re my Guide, Gibbs. You may not want to see it but it is. When I came out of that sewer and walked off the elevator, you touched me and reached out with your empathy when you told me I was irreplaceable. Then you snapped up walls so fast I nearly got whiplash when you made it a joke and told McGee you were sorry I had lived. I was reeling in so many ways that day, Gibbs. And I’ve been stuck ever since.”

“Tony, I - we - I’m not -”

“Gibbs, please, don’t reject me again. I can’t - please.”

“Tony - I need to explain, I don’t use my Gifts. I haven’t in a long time.”

“Yeah, no, I call bullshit, boss. You can call it “your gut” all you like. It’s your Guide Gifts. And in interrogations - you use the Voice all the time. And in the bullpen when we’re getting out of hand. Fool yourself if you like but you aren’t fooling me.”

Gibbs shook his head. “No, I locked my Gifts away over a decade ago, Tony. Just before I started at NCIS, well, NIS.”

“Oh.”

Gibbs looked at him, his eyes burning a hole in Tony’s psyche. “Sorry, boss. I - um - well, you really should have expected it, considering how I left Baltimore and Danny. I wasn’t about to get burned again.”

“You ran a check on me.”

“Yeah. And you never brought up your family so I just kept quiet. It wasn’t my business. And I’m really sorry that happened, Gibbs. You may have cut yourself off from deliberately using your Gifts, but you’re a Guide, and that didn’t go away when they died. Maybe at first you were too - hurt - to use them and did shut them down for a bit but once you started to heal - you really do use them all the time. And you partly bonded to me in the bullpen that day. And we have to deal with it. Either fish or cut bait. Shit or get off the pot. Complete the bond or sever it. The S & G Center can help us do that but if that is the choice - it will damage both of us in numerous ways. I won’t force you to bond with me, Gibbs, but I don’t want you making a snap decision right now. I’ve had a year to think about this. You’ve had less than an hour. And even if you decided to bond - well, we can’t do that right now. If we bonded, we’d need to nest for at least three days, more likely closer to a week, considering our circumstances. And that - well, we can’t do that with Ari still out there, gunning for you and the team.”

Gibbs reached a hand out to the man he now knew was his Sentinel. “Tony.”

“We really can’t, Gibbs. Think about your choices. After Ari is - handled - we either bond and work together as Sentinel and Guide, or we sever the bond and I find something else to do, somewhere else. I can’t sever the bond and stay. You need to know that. Fully informed consent and what have you. But you don’t have to worry if that’s your choice, Gibbs.” Tony grinned wryly and drawled in a Southern accent, “I know my way home.”

Gibbs opened his mouth to reply when the door behind him opened and Abby came bouncing into the room. “Tony, Tony, Tony!”

Chapter Text

Epilogue

It had been three weeks, a very long three weeks since Tony had revealed to Gibbs they were partially bonded. So much had happened, several people had died, but his team, his Tribe were all safe and whole. Ari had been - handled. And his handler, she too had been - handled, though not quite in the same way.

Now, Tony was in the shower at Gibbs’ house where he had been staying since he’d gotten out of the hospital. Gibbs had insisted, saying Tony needed to be sharp, and being around his Guide more even if they weren’t fully bonded, could only help.

Tony, not one to cut off his own nose to spite his face, had agreed with alacrity. He had hoped being around Gibbs in a more relaxed time than at work, less immediate stress, would help his Guide to make his decision. It would provide a preview of what the future could be like. Granted, Tony had stayed at Gibbs’ house overnight a few times before when his apartment had issues with heating or hot water, and once when his place was being exterminated for a flea infestation following a tenant bringing home a box of kittens they had found in the woods. And Tony had stopped by occasionally for pizza and beer or cowboy steaks after hard cases. But he had always been careful to stay out of Gibbs’ way and leave if he felt that he was being too annoying or a burden.

This time, Tony had simply been himself. He had arranged for his TV and some of his movies to be brought over and he had watched them regularly. He talked to Gibbs when he went to the basement to work on his boat. He made them dinners once he was off the strongest pain medication. He allowed himself to take off the mask around Gibbs, something he had never dared to even contemplate before.

And, lo and behold, it had worked out. Just as Gibbs’ presence helped settle and ground Tony’s senses, Tony’s presence seemed to center Gibbs. He had not gone off to brood, when he worked on the boat it was for enjoyment and relaxation, not to get rid of his frustration. Gibbs had been focused and calm, well calm-ish, at work. There were no blow ups, in the bullpen or at home. They just slotted into place perfectly.

And Gibbs had realized it, too. He had opened up to Tony, verbally and empathically. He had allowed himself to realize when he was using his Guide Gifts and had consciously sought control over them. It had taken some work and some help from the S & G Center but Gibbs had regained his old self. He was still gruff and took no nonsense from people but the “B for Bastard” was seen less often.

And Gibbs was dealing with the loss of his first wife and his daughter. He had never truly grieved for them. He had buried it and pushed it away. But now, with Tony’s help, he was being healthy about his feelings. They had several conversations about their deaths, the incident that led to it, and Gibbs’ actions following it.

Tony knew what Gibbs had done. And he understood. He had a feeling it might come back to bite them someday and he would have to see what was out there so he could deal with the danger to his Tribe preemptively if need be, but for now, it was enough to know the issue was there.

He also knew to keep Gibbs far away from his old boss, Mike Franks. The fact that Franks had known he would never get Hernandez in a legal way and had deliberately used Gibbs - a grieving husband and father, a damaged Guide - to take him out was reprehensible to Tony. Franks was a poison his Guide didn’t need in his life.

And Tony had even gotten Gibbs to open up about the existence of his girls to Ducky. Tony hoped Gibbs would one day be able to talk about it to the rest of the team but for now, the elderly Englishman was the best connection. They had been friends for a long time and Ducky was able to understand Gibbs’ silence until now. They had talked about the death and Gibbs would tell stories about their lives now.

Which led to Tony’s current activity, showering fully to prepare for completing the bond. Last night, Gibbs had agreed to make the partial bond into a full one. They had notified NCIS and without having any open cases, they were able to arrange a week off for the nesting to come.

Tony was still in shock. He was happy but he had never truly believed that Gibbs - Jethro would want him. And certainly not a full, sexual bond. But that was what Jethro had offered. Tony had thought he would be in a platonic bond with his Guide. But Jethro had surprised him with the information that he found Tony attractive and that he had been with men before. Granted, they had been buddy fucks and bar pick-ups that led to one night stands or very short term relationships, but he was no stranger to gay sex.

Tony himself had never been picky about the gender of his partner. He tended to keep any gay relationships very much in the closet due to homophobia in the police force and armed services (when he came to NCIS) but it didn’t stop him from indulging. Tony liked sex and he had been incredibly frustrated over the past year, not being able to bear the touch or even the smell of a sexual partner. He had become very well acquainted with his right hand. And lube was a regular item on his weekly shopping list since he came online. It was unscented and hypoallergenic lube, designed for Sentinels and others with touch sense issues, but he knew exactly where to find it in several different stores that he frequented.

Tony turned off the water, fully washed and ready for the bonding. He took a clean towel and dried off, wrapping it around his waist, and heading to the bedroom. Gibbs was there waiting for him, his own body naked and gleaming, hairless chest shining in the light. Gibbs had gone to the S & G Center a few days before to have all his hair except his head hair, eyelashes and eyebrows permanently removed for Tony’s sake. It was something Tony himself had done the first time he had gone to the Center after coming online.

Tony reveled in the permission he gave his eyes to feast on the sight before him. Gibbs was lean and muscular, his muscles defined but not overly bulked up. His leg muscles were tight and his cock was uncut and long, slightly above average length but not overly thick. Tony couldn’t wait to taste it hot in his mouth.

He moaned and his eyes rose to meet Jethro’s gaze. “Guide.”

Jethro smiled at him and took a deep breath. “Sentinel.”

Tony stepped forward, allowing the towel to drop at his feet and took the older man’s face in his hands, breathing in the scent that he associated with Gibbs: coffee, sawdust and hints of bourbon, and now he learned the scent of Gibbs’ arousal. He leaned further forward and placed his mouth on Jethro’s mouth, which opened readily under the pressure. He tasted his Guide and imprinted it on his very soul. Tony would never forget this night and he intended to cherish it for all time.

As Tony and Jethro sank onto the bed, behind them a coyote sprang toward the ceiling as a hawk stooped towards the floor, meeting in a burst of light that bathed the lovers on the bed in its glow.