Title: After the Pain3
Summary: Tony's in over his head.
Warning: Mentions of domestic violence and rape.
Pairing: Tony/omc for now
Earlier parts can be found at
From part two:
Gibbs shrugged and turned to his computer. “It’s my job to know stuff like that.” He flicked a glance back up at Tony. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work for this team, I don’t care who you sleep with.”
That stung even though Tony had realistically told himself months ago that it was true. After all, Gibbs hadn’t cared that Tony had slept with Jeanne Benoit; he was just pissed off that Tony had been working hand in glove with the Director on a job Gibbs hadn’t been able to give permission for. Realizing Gibbs was waiting for him to say something, Tony said belatedly, “It won’t, Boss.”
“Good. Maybe you should go back to using your electric razor while you’re at it.”
“Yeah, probably be a good idea.” Tony walked back to his desk and sat down, turning on his own computer and calling up the file of their latest case. Gibbs was watching him contemplatively and that made Tony nervous so he turned his chair so he was side-on to Gibbs’ desk and got to work.
Two months later:
Things had been going smoothly both professionally and personally for Tony since that first time Jason had hurt him. So much so that Tony had relaxed, had begun to think it really was just an aberration on Jason’s part. Tony had finally admitted to himself as well as to Jason, he’d kind of asked for it anyway. Now that the news about him and Jason was more or less public knowledge and life just went on at work, Tony thought that he should have just told everyone right from the start. Then it wouldn’t have happened at all. He was almost glad they knew now. Almost. He still got a twinge in the region of his heart when word filtered through from the grapevine that Gibbs was seeing someone. It was stupid, he told himself every time. After all, he was seeing someone too. So he packed the jealousy away deep in the recesses of his mind, along with memories of his childhood and regrets for all the things he should have done or said and renewed his commitment to Jason, vowing his lover would never know how much he still loved Jethro Gibbs.
He should have known the minute he opened the door and saw Jason standing in front of the drinks cabinet, looking more than a little well lubricated and a face like thunder that it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Hey, babe,” Tony called cheerily, tamping the nervousness already churning up his gut. “How was your day?” He hung his jacket over the back of the chair and then, steeling himself for whatever was to come, walked cross the room to kiss Jason on the mouth.
“Not great,” Jason said flatly. He turned and poured a drink then held the glass out to Tony. “I feel like getting drunk.”
Tony took the drink and sipped at it. He was no teetotaller but seeing his mother in an alcoholic stupor almost every night of his formative years had made him determined he’d never drink to excess. He watched, frowning a little as Jason topped his glass up and gulped half of it down in one swallow. “What’s wrong?” Tony asked. “Did something happen at work?”
“Drink up.” Jason held Tony’s glass to his lips and tipped it up, laughing when Tony spluttered as the fiery liquid burnt his throat. “Aw, poor baby. I think Daddy’s going to have to teach you how to drink.”
“What happened?” Tony asked again as soon as he was able to regain his breath.
“The bastards fired me.” Jason tossed down the last of his drink and refilled his glass then walked across to sit on the couch, putting the seat next to him in invitation.
Tony placed his own drink carefully on the cabinet then slowly walked over and sat down. “Why?” he asked, dread roiling in his gut.
“They said I screwed up on a job but we know the real reason, don’t we?” Jason grabbed Tony behind the neck and pulled him in close so he could whisper in his ear. “Papa Gibbs doesn’t want me around his favourite boy.”
“What? That’s impossible!” Tony almost bit his tongue the minute the words were out of his mouth but his innate loyalty to Gibbs made him continue. “Gibbs wouldn’t do that. That’s not how he operates. Besides…” Tony fought back the regret that would have tinged his words if he hadn’t trained himself not to show it, “Gibbs isn’t interested in me like that.”
“Like what?” Jason released him and leaned back, his eyes narrowing to suspicious slit as he searched Tony’s face. “Like what, Tony? Did I say it had anything to do with Gibbs wanting you?” He snorted out a sneering alugh. “Everyone knows the man’s straight as they come. How many ex wives is it? Four?”
“Three,” Tony replied automatically. “His first wife died. I’ve told you about it.”
“Well, you can’t get more ex than being dead, can you?” Jason stood up and headed back to the drinks cabinet and Tony fought not to waylay him, knowing already, with a sinking feeling in his gut just how tonight was going to go. “Why don’t we go out for dinner?” he suggested as Jason downed another slug of whisky.
Jason shook his head. “I don’t feel like it.” He walked back across to Tony, almost tripping over the corner of the couch as he knelt at Tony’s feet. “Why did you think I meant Gibbs has the hots for you, baby?” he asked, the suspicion in his voice already a dangerous precursor of what Tony knew was to come. “You know better than anyone how straight he is. Was that wishful thinking I heard in your voice, sweetheart? A little lilt of hope that if I was out of the picture at NCIS he might actually look at you the way I do?”
“No.” Tony stood up and extricated himself from the hold Jason had on his legs, moving over to stand in the entrance to the living room. “I just meant I didn’t think Gibbs would try to get you sacked because of me. What happened with the job anyway? Why did they think you screwed up? I… I mean, everyone knows how good you are at what you do. Maybe someone else screwed up and it just looked like it was your fault…” Tony stumbled to a halt, knowing already how pitiful he sounded, even to his own ears, trying to justify what happened and keep Jason from spiralling into one of his rages.
“I already told you the reason.” Jason stood up and stalked towards him, grinning as Tony stepped back till his back was against the wall. When he reached him, he pinned him there, pressing his body hard against Tony’s, moving up and down, letting Tony feel the hardness of his erection as he rubbed it against Tony’s thigh. “Let’s go to bed,” Jason said, grabbing hold of Tony’s wrist.
“Not right now. I’m starving. Can we at least order a pizza or some Chinese first. Don’t want me passing out on you, do we?” Tony said, trying desperately to lighten the mood, to avert what he knew was going to happen next. He hated sex when Jason was drunk. It took so long and by the time Jason finally was able to achieve an orgasm, if indeed he even could, Tony would be sore and bleeding as Jason continued to pound away inside of him in search of the elusive climax. He tried to move away and Jason twisted his wrist painfully.
Tony gritted his teeth against the pain. “Please, not tonight, Jason. Not like this. You’ve been drinking-“ He flinched back against the wall as Jason’s fist flew toward his face, but it stopped an inch away and Jason smiled coldly then grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a bruising kiss on the mouth.
“Bedroom,” Jason murmured against his lips, his whisky-sour breath turning Tony’ stomach. “Bottoms up, Tony.”
Tony moved then, letting Jason pull him along by his shirtfront, his right arm throbbing as he cradled it against his belly. He wanted nothing more than to fight back, or to run but instead he allowed his mind to go blank. He’d wait till Jason passed out and then he’d deal with it,. This time he’d go for good.
“Hey, where you going?” Jason snaked out a lazy hand and grabbed for Tony’s arm.
“Just for a shower,” Tony said casually, grabbing his bathrobe from the foot of the bed and managing to get it on one-handed. He held his breath till Jason yawned and let go of his arm then rolled over the other way.
“I’d join you but I’m too exhausted to get up yet,” Jason murmured, closing his eyes.
“That’s okay. You get some rest.” Tony quickly gathered up his clothes from the floor where Jason had tossed them the night before then picked up his shoes and socks as well and headed out into the living room where he dressed as quickly and quietly as he could. Taking a final look around the apartment he decided against taking anything else with him for now. He’d come back later once he’d found the nerve to tell Jason it was over.
Out in his car, he thought about where to go. It was only 5 AM and he didn’t feel comfortable turning up on anyone else’s doorstep at that hour. He considered his own apartment, but worried that might be the first place Jason would look if he woke up and went searching for him. Finally, the answer came. If Jason had been fired from NCIS he wouldn’t have access to the building. Sighing with no small measure of relief, Tony started the car and headed toward the Navy Yard.
Once at his desk he took a couple of Tylenol 3 from the drawer in his desk then went out to the break room and pulled an icepack from the freezer. He wrapped a dish towel around it to hold it in place then awkwardly made himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. His wrist throbbed distantly and he winced at the purple bruising he could see inching out from under the ice pack. Maybe he should get Ducky to check it out… Quashing that thought as soon as it was born, he finished his coffee, put the icepack back in the freezer then went back out to his desk. He was doing a good job of pretending to read reports when the rest of the team came in at 8-30.
“You’re early,” Ziva observed tartly as she walked past his desk on her way to her own.
“You okay?” McGee asked, sweeping him with a keen eye then stopping in front of Tony’s desk. “You look like crap,” he added.
“Gee, thanks, McGee,” Tony replied shortly, too tired to engage in their usual repartee. He turned back to his computer as Gibbs walked past his desk, hoping his boss’ keen eye hadn’t picked up anything.
“DiNozzo, a word,” Gibbs said, dumping his bag on the desk chair and putting paid to Tony’s hopes.
Tony sighed inaudibly then stood up and followed Gibbs out of the bullpen and into the break room where Gibbs waited till he was in then closed the door behind him.
“You all right?” Gibbs asked.
“Yep, I’m fine.” Tony kept his hands crossed behind his back, trying not to wince at the pain the movement caused his injured arm.
“I heard what happened to McNeil,” Gibbs said flatly. “Sorry.”
Tony shrugged. “I don’t know the whole story yet,” he said. “Jason said someone claimed he was drunk on the job-“
“He was,” Gibbs interrupted. “We nearly lost a suspect because of it.”
“That’s not like him,” Tony lied smoothly. “He’s been under a lot of pressure lately. He wouldn’t normally come into work if he’d been drinking.”
“He was drinking on the job, Tony,” Gibbs said. “McGee caught him in the men’s room swigging from a flask. Nearly got his head knocked off when he called the guy on it.”
“What happened?” Tony slumped into a chair at the table and tilted his head to look up at Gibbs. “You said you nearly lost a suspect…”
“He deleted an entire folder of evidence Jeff Martin’s team had been building on a guy running weapons out of Norfolk,” Gibbs said grimly. “Luckily McGee was able to retrieve it for them. The guy was due to go to court today. Without the evidence…” He left the rest of it unsaid.
“I’m sorry. Like I said, he’s been under a lot of pressure.” Tony pushed himself wearily to his feet. “I better get back to work.”
“Did he take it out on you?” Gibbs asked, grabbing Tony by the arm as he walked past.
Tony bit back the yelp of pain that wanted to burst out and shook his head quickly. “No.”
Gibbs gave him a penetrating look then let him go. “Your friend needs to get some help,” he said, opening the door and leading the way back to the bullpen.
“I know. I’ll talk to him about it."