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A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Summary:

The worst place to come online as a Guide has to be in the back of a van, having been kidnapped by a group of unsavoury individuals.

Of course, that's just the sort of luck Tony is known for.

Meanwhile, Gibbs has been called in to solve a high-profile case. With twelve lives on the line, the stakes couldn't be higher and the group of stuffed shirts breathing down his neck don't help matters.

Notes:

This story possessed me. That's the only excuse I have. Since I haven't published a story since 2015, that is perhaps not altogether surprising news. Like many fans of NCIS, I lost interest in the series and, thus, in writing about it, a long time ago. I no longer watch the show at all. Because of that, this story is actually set pre-series, when Tony is still in Baltimore.

If anything can be credited to my renewed surge of inexplicable interest, it is probably the Rough Trade site and the overabundance of S&G fics I've been reading lately. I woke up in the middle of the night with this story in mind and proceeded to write over 10000 words over the space of a weekend. The story I currently have is 15000 words and not yet complete. Because of this, the rating may be subject to change. Watch this space.

It's an S&G fic, obviously. And also (unlike me) somewhat of a case fic. It was supposed to be only from Tony's point of view, but Gibbs (the stubborn SOB) insisted on having his say. Thus, the POV shifts pretty constantly. These are all things I don't usually explore in my fics. As such, honest feedback would be appreciated if you have the time to give any. Otherwise, I hope you are all keeping safe during these troubled times and that this fic provides you with some small measure of joy.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter Text

Chapter specific warnings: swearing, mild references to unsavoury situations.

Chapter’s Theme Song: A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by This Providence

 

-o-o-o-o-

 
beat me down
I’ll still be here
you cannot break me
for diamonds
do not shatter

-o-o Prologue o-o-

 

 

Tony awoke in pain.


Mind-numbing, overwhelming, all-encompassing pain.

He bit his lip so hard that it bled and, as such, all that escaped him was a wounded whimper rather than the scream trapped behind his teeth.

“Good, good, don’t scream, don’t let them know. Deep breaths now, brother. We’re going to build a shield.”

A distant part of Tony latched onto that voice and held tight. The rest of him was too busy crying out in abject misery. He felt like he was going to die.

“I know it hurts, I know, I know. Shh, shh, shh. Focus on me, focus. A shield, brother. You have to make a shield. Block it out.”


How the fuck am I supposed to do that?
Tony wanted to snarl. But the voice was telling him, talking him through the process over and over and over again.

it hurt, it hurt, it hurt

Tony curled his fingers tight, the knuckles on each hand clenching down on some sort of material. The voice continued its instructions and, haltingly, Tony began to follow them.

The more of the shield he built, the more the pain began to dull and the more of the shield he was able to construct. It was hard work and Tony got the distinct sense that someone should have be helping him do this. Instead, he was doing it alone.

Typical.


Finally, the shield snapped fully into place and the pain dulled from I’m going to die to so this is what a migraine feels like.


He became abruptly aware that he was curled up in someone’s lap like a two-year-old. A hand was on his head, stroking soothingly through his hair. Another was wrapped around his back, holding him steady. Tony promised himself he’d be properly mortified later. Right this moment, he was too fucking worn-out to even bother opening his eyes.


“Good, good, well done, you did great, rest now brother, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Let it go.”

Obligingly, Tony did.