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Merucha ([personal profile] merucha) wrote2013-08-09 09:16 am

Legends (20/?)

Title: Legends (20/?)
Author: Merucha
Characters: Tim McGee, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, plus the usual Torchwood and NCIS suspects
Rating
: Some chapters definitely not safe for work.
Disclaimer: Oh, please. If I owned them, would I let some of those idiots write the scripts? And if I were making any money off them, would I be where they could find me?
Summary: After the events of Bloodbath, Tim McGee accepts a offer from a total stranger
Author's Note: A few weeks ago I was watching some NCIS episodes and came across Bloodbath. I hated both Abby and Gibbs in it. I hated the humiliation of making Tim kneel all day for something that was someone else's fault. I fumed for days (I am a bit obsessive about things from time to time). Then, a few days ago, this popped up. As usual, AU like nobody's business.


Part one here; Part two here; Part three here; Part four is here; Part five is here; Part six is here; Part seven is here; Part eight is here; Part nine is here; Part ten is here; Part eleven is here; Part twelve is here; Part thirteen is here:Part fourteen is here;Part fifteen is here; Part sixteen is here; Part seventeen is here; Part eighteen is here; Part nineteen is here


A far-off rumble of thunder gave Tony the last shove into full awareness. He was thankful to be awake. He wasn't given to nightmares but when he had them they were Oscar winners. This one had involved that thing on Tim's back – Jack had called it a ta'saiat, which seemed to translate into something like soul-guide, though it had overtones of something more intimate or more possessive   – reaching for him again and again. Funny thing was, he wasn't scared of what it would do to him as much as what it would see in him.

He turned on the lamp on the bedside table and looked down at Tim. The Probie slept sprawling on his stomach like a baby. The ta'saiat was a faint silver glimmer just under the skin. Jack had been surprised that he could see it, but to Tony's eyes it was as distinct as a tattoo.  He had actually thought it was a tattoo until it moved.

After their kiss, both Tim and Gibbs had fallen into a deep sleep. Per Jack's instructions, the Boss had been wrapped in blankets and stretched out on the sofa, fireplace going full blast and Ianto standing guard. Tony and Ziva had maneuvered Tim upstairs and into Gibbs' bed. While Ziva watched Tim, Tony had helped Vance cope when the FBI showed up on the heels of the local cops.

It was almost dawn before the house emptied. Vance had gone home to shower and change before heading back to the Yard to start the political balls rolling. The thought made Tony snicker. If he knew Vance, and he had learned a great deal about the man in the last few days, that image might be more literal than metaphorical. The NCIS director had been incandescently pissed off.

A soft snuffle made him look around. Ziva was tucked into one of Gibbs' sleeping bags. She had laid it directly below the window. Anyone trying to get back into the house from the oak tree would get a very unpleasant surprise.

He decided to check on Gibbs. Not that he didn't trust Jack and Ianto but Tony wanted to see for himself. Besides, maybe Ianto was up already and he could snag a cup of coffee. He turned off the lamp and made sure the blinds were tightly shut. Not bothering with shoes, he headed downstairs.

He heard voices even before he reached the intermediate landing. The way the stairs turned, anyone coming downstairs had a good partial view of the living room without being noticed. Tony didn't have any particular objection to eavesdropping for the greater good, and he figured this qualified. He went down a few more steps then sat down.

“You're going to have to explain,” Jack was saying. He was sitting in one of the armchairs nearest the fire. Ianto sat on the rug at his feet, head resting on his husband's knee. “Or are you planning to make both of you miserable for life?”

“It's not that simple.” Gibbs sipped something from a coffee mug, then made a face. “Do I have to drink this?”

“Yes, and don't try that on me. You and Tim are bonded for life, Gibbs. The ta'saiat approved of you enough to adopt you formally into the family. And I've seen the way you look at him when you think nobody's watching.”

Gibbs slammed the mug down hard enough to shake the coffee table. “And how do I explain it, Captain Harkness? How do I tell Tim that I killed him with my bare hands?”

The air exploded out of Tony's lungs as if someone had punched him hard in the chest. He wrapped his arms around his knees and pulled himself into a compact a ball as he could manage.  His first instinct was to run away; something very young inside him didn't want to watch Gibbs topple off his pedestal.

“Tell me.” Jack said gently.

Gibbs stayed silent for so long that for an insane moment Tony believed he would never speak again. Then he gave a sigh and sat back, pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes. “God. We got caught right after we put Martha on the sub back to England. Tim and I were the only ones left by then. They took us to the Valiant. We figured we would be dead by sunset, unless they wanted us for an object lesson on the stupidity of resistance. Instead the tossed us into a cell and left us there. Saxon was obsessed with finding your team, but they kept slipping out of his traps. It drove him nuts. Breaking you was the only thing he cared about. He had started taking prisoners who he thought resembled them and using them...”

“As torturers.” Jack's finished the sentence for him. “I barely remember that time. The Time Agency taught its agents dissociative techniques in case of capture. I used them to hide in the one place he was too scared to look.”

“Towards the end they were taking anyone as long as they were young. Most did as they were told.”

“But not Tim.”

“No. Flat out refused. Saxon decided to teach him a lesson.”  Gibbs made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “When they brought him back he was barely alive. One of the guards told me that they were going to give him to the Toclafane the next day.”

“And you decided to spare him that.”

“He begged me to. We both knew what the Toclafane did with their toys.” Gibbs all but spat out the last word. “I told him that I loved him then I killed him.”

Ianto stirred slightly. “Were you punished for it?”

Gibbs shook his head. “There was another prisoner in with us. He helped me.”

“John.” Ianto whispered. “Tell us.”

“Ianto...”

“Hush, love. We're here and we're together. My only memories of John Hart are not very good. If he did something good at the end, I want to remember that too.”

“All right. Yes.”

Gibbs picked up his mug and took another drink. “When Saxon took over, John went back home. But home had changed. The future he remembered  had disappeared. The Master ruled everywhere with an iron fist, and his immortal torturer enforced his whims. John figured out that whatever had happened to your team had driven you insane. He said that's when he knew what he had been born for. His purpose.” He fell quiet, as if trying to find the best way to continue. “He went back to Cardiff. When he got there, he found that some damn collaborators had led the UNIT bastards and their Toclafane to your people.  He managed to get Ianto and someone he called the ginger copper away, but he couldn't get to Gwen and Rhys. He told Ianto and the other guy what he knew and the three of them blew up the shuttle UNIT was using. Gwen and Rhys were killed, but your team never made it to the Valiant and the Master couldn't break you.”

“Andy Davidson. Tish's husband now. That's the ginger copper.” Jack sounded horribly tired. “So John changed history for me. And died for me.”

“And never regretted it.” Gibbs said firmly. “Ianto and Davidson became the face of Torchwood. They rallied the Welsh and from there the whole British isles. John was caught when they stopped Saxon's plan to use a radiation bomb on Cardiff.”

“What did you do with Tim's body?” Ianto asked.

“John used his wrist strap. We took it to the incinerators. When the guards came for him, we told them other guards that showed up earlier.” Gibbs lay back. “John died three weeks later. He spent the time training me to use the strap. That's how Shadow was born.”

Tony released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Probie needed to know about this, because Gibbs was too damn stubborn for his own good. He stood up slowly. As he did, his eyes met Ianto's. He realized the Welshman had known all along that he had been listening. He nodded, and got a slight smile in return.  He turned and went back upstairs.
 

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