Title: Trustfall
Fandom: NCIS, 9-1-1, minor: JAG, Criminal Minds, The Sentinel
Genre: Crossover, Fusion, Challenge Response
Pairing: Tony DiNozzo/Lou Ransone, minor non-canonical pairings
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, Major Character Death (one character from NCIS dies, but it is implied another will die as well)
Author Note: Tony and Lou are about the same age in this, as opposed to the timeline I set for Lou in a recent story. Title is from Pink’s 2023 Album of the same name. (minor note: I had to end this sooner than I had plotted lest I wind up with a 50k novel. I had written past this point, but I had to back up and find a stopping point that wasn’t going to lead to 40k more.)
Timeline: Early season 3 of NCIS, pre-series for 9-1-1.
Art: Thank you to AngelicInsanity for providing the banner for this story!
Challenge: Big Moxie Q2’2025, Fusion/Crossover & Just Write Create Your Own Bingo, Round 2 – Bad Things Happen, Prompt: Error in Judgment
Word Count: ~9,500
Summary: Tony DiNozzo and Lou Ransone were partners in Philly. They’ve been friends for years, even if they haven’t seen each other since the Macaluso op ended. While still grappling with his grief over Kate’s death, Tony finally talks to Lou about the connection they’ve had all these years and why it concerns him. Lou has an entirely different take on it and gives Tony something to think about.

Trustfall

Tony DiNozzo lay in the dark, staring at the shifting shapes on the ceiling caused by the streetlights and passing cars.

He turned his head to check the clock and found 4:02 staring back at him in accusation.

Sighing, he looked back at the ceiling, wishing for sleep, even if he needed to be awake in about an hour. He always woke up at five, but good sleep had been harder to come by since Kate’s death.

He took a deep breath, held it, and then blew it out slowly. It had been months since the plague, and his lungs still felt wrong. Like someone else’s lungs were inside his body. Lungs that didn’t work the way he wanted them to work. His pulmonologist had a rigorous set of daily breathing exercises he had to do for at least a year, but the top recommendation was that he move somewhere warmer.

Fortunately, it was still warm in DC as the early fall weather set in, and he had some time before the reality of winter here slapped him in the face.

A little tingling set up at the base of his skull that made him think of Lou.

Originally, Lou was his old partner from his days in Philly. Tony had just joined after being in Peoria, becoming the youngest detective in Philly’s history. While Lou was a couple of years older than Tony, he was just finishing out his time on patrol in Philly and was a newly minted detective himself.

Today, Lou was his best friend despite the fact that the Macaluso op they’d worked together had gone ass over tits had ended Tony’s career with the department, sending him off to Baltimore. Lou had eventually left for Los Angeles for a variety of complicated reasons.

Despite there being nearly six years between them working together, or really even seeing each other, Tony always had a sort of sense about when something was up with Lou or when Lou would call. Right now, he’d bet Lou was about to call despite it being one in the morning where he was.

Tony had been identified as latent and sensitive when he was very young, and he’d learned for his own sanity around his hellbeast of father and drunk mother to tamp down his sensitivity without any formal training at all. Later, in the military academy, he’d taken what he’d learned in classes for those who were latent and applied it to what he’d done for survival to keep a barrier around himself as much as possible to keep the world out.

The expectation had always been that Tony would come online, and probably sooner rather than later, but he was now thirty-two years old, and with every month he drifted away from the age of thirty, the likelihood that he’d come online diminished.

He wasn’t sad about it. He had no real desire to be a guide. There was something about it that had always been… off-putting to him. It felt like it would take him too far away from the person he’d always tried to be.

Except.

Lou.

Lou had come online as a sentinel in the wake of the Macaluso fiasco, and he’d looked at Tony like Tony was his everything—absolutely convinced that the psionic plane had put them in each other’s path. But Lou was online, and Tony wasn’t.

Los Angeles called to Lou like a siren song, and Tony didn’t feel such callings. For him, it was…void.

Except for the little tingle whenever something major was going on with Lou or when Lou was about to call. The little itch when Lou was in trouble. And the little itch was never wrong.

Despite all of Tony’s efforts and his success at keeping his sensitivity under wraps, whatever was between them completely bypassed his barriers.

The phone on his nightstand vibrated.

He didn’t even look at it, just pressed a button and brought it to his ear, softly answering, “Lou. Were you still awake, or am I keeping you up?”

“I can feel you ruminating all the way across the country, but I’m still at work. Wrapped a case that’s been dragging on for days, and I’m trying to get the paperwork done so I can take the next couple of days off.”

It would be easy to feel resentful that Lou had a boss who gave them time off if they pulled it out for days on end on a big case, but he really was just grateful that Lou had someone looking out for him.

“Sorry I distracted you.” He also never thought about what it meant that Lou could feel him ruminating.

“You never have to apologize, you know that. What’s wrong?”

“Same old, same old. I’m tired of my own complaints.”

“You barely talk about it, and I know it was traumatic as hell. Not to mention what you’d been through right before you lost Kate.”

Tony huffed a humorless laugh. “I guess that’s true. I guess I don’t like the sound of my own complaining, but it runs around on repeat in my head, though.”

“Maybe it would help to talk it out.”

Sitting up, he swung his legs around so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Last time we talked, you were on the merry-go-round of new teammates. That still happening?”

“Yeah.” Tony nodded in the dark, as if Lou could see him. “They all seem deficient in some way. And that’s probably half our fault. I know we’re not even trying to be welcoming. I look at them and just see who they’re not.”

“It’s hard to lose a partner, Tony. God, especially in the way you did. You’ve never given yourself room to really grieve. If you’re honest, you’re probably stuck in the anger. The whole team is taking out their unresolved pain on the new people. I don’t have to say it, because you already know it, but these new people don’t deserve it. Not all of them are going to be a fit for your team, but they all deserve a real chance.”

Tony sighed and dragged his hand through his hair, feeling how it was already sticking straight up. “I know. It all just feels so…incomplete.”

“Do you know what you mean by that?”

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. “I feel like I’m still on that roof, Lou. I feel like I stayed up there with Katie, and I never climbed down.”

Lou sucked in a sharp breath. “Tony…please tell me you mean that in some emotional way and not in a…a psionic way.”

Tony wasn’t sure how to answer, lost in thoughts and feelings and impressions from the past.

“Tony?” Lou eventually prodded. “Please talk to me. I’ve been working this case non-stop for days, and I don’t want on jump a six in the morning flight to DC, but I will if you keep quiet.”

Tony finally managed a quirk of his lips that was real amusement. “I haven’t seen you in years, and I’d finally get to see you again because I went silent on a phone call?”

“Not seeing each other was your choice,” Lou reminded gently.

“I know.” Tony took in a slow, deep breath, feeling the expansion of his lungs in the new, uncomfortable way they did now. “I’ve always known you thought I was your guide, Lou.”

After a long pause, Lou made an affirmative noise. “Feelings are just feelings, Tony. You know I’d never pressure you. You said firmly when you left for Baltimore that coming online wasn’t in the cards for you, and you seemed so sure of it, so I let you go. Even though it went against what my instincts said to do, I didn’t try to follow you because of some biological imperative that said ‘that’s my guide.’ I listened to you, and we followed our own paths. We may not have had this conversation then, but I thought the actions were very clear.”

“I suppose they were.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “When my cover was blown, there was this…” he frowned, trying to think of how to describe it. “It was like this pull in the back of my mind. Like something saying, ‘pay attention, fall into me.’”

“You think you were on the cusp of coming online?”

“I think maybe. Yeah. I don’t know. I have no words, Lou. I keep hitting these points in my life where I feel this little tug that says, ‘give in,’ but I just…can’t.”

“What other times?”

Tony blew out a breath. “There have been several. I vaguely remember the feeling the first time when my mom died.”

“When that sentinel found you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. What else?”

“When Adam died in Peoria.”

“Your patrol partner who was shot?”

“Yeah. I was crouched over Adam, waiting for EMS, so green a rookie that it hurts to think about, and there was that pull saying, ‘give in.’ Then again, when the Macaluso op went south. A couple of times in Baltimore. Then…” Tony scrubbed his hand over his face. “I knew we shouldn’t have been on that roof. I told Gibbs something was really off.”

“You guys saved a lot of people, Tony,” Lou said softly. “Sometimes we walk into situations knowing they’re off and take the risk to save as many as we can.”

“I know,” Tony replied, equally soft. “And the price was Kate and nearly Tim.”

“And you felt this pull up there too?”

“I think on the way in the car. I—” He hesitated to say the words.

“You know you can trust me, Tony. I’m not going to judge anything you say.”

“I think I could be a guide anytime I wanted. I think that’s what this is. Since I was a kid, I think I could just lean into it and be there. But it’s not supposed to work that way, right?”

“Hell if I know. Me knowing that you’re awake and brooding isn’t supposed to happen. I don’t think the rulebook applies all the time. If you tell me all you have to do is lean into it and you’ll be a guide, I believe you. I guess the question is, what’s holding you back? Do you dislike the idea that much?” Lou’s voice was calm, no change in inflection, but Tony knew the answer was important to him.

“It’s not about being a guide. It’s how dark it feels.”

“Dark?” Lou repeated, sounding incredulous. “I don’t follow.”

“I don’t know how to explain it. It just doesn’t feel like me. It feels like—” He stopped again, trying to come up with some way to explain. “You know how early at the academy when we go through firearms safety and learning how to wear our equipment?”

“Are you saying being a guide feels like picking up a weapon?”

“It feels like beyond those days at the academy. It feels like prepping for a SWAT raid. Like donning full tactical gear, getting an assault rifle, and a ballistic shield. It feels…dark is the only word I can come up with. Maybe it’s not a perfect word, but it’s what I’ve got.”

Lou was silent for a long time, and Tony started to fidget until he shifted back on the bed, settling with his back against the headboard. “Dark, or does it feel aggressive?”

“Aggressive could fit,” Tony conceded slowly, thinking through it. “It just doesn’t feel like me,” he repeated the sentiment from earlier. “It feels like taking a darker turn in my life.”

“Does it?”

“What do you mean?”

Lou sighed. “You put up a good front of being genial and everyone’s friend, but you forget how well I know you. Before we were put on the Macaluso op, we worked a lot of garden variety ugliness, and the way you’d get about some cases—” Lou stopped himself, then continued a beat later. “You have a carefully constructed persona you’ve crafted to help you navigate the world. You always relaxed with me and were natural. No attempts to be on, but that persona was clearly something you’d been developing for a while for some purpose. It’s not my business to tear your reasons for it apart. It worked for you on the job, so whatever gets you through is fine by me, but you didn’t always keep that mask up.

“When a case would get you hot, you’d slip, and there was an intensity about you that was different. There’s definitely an aggression you keep buried deep that’s bubbling under the surface. And since it’s in you, it’s definitely part of you.”

“Are you saying being a guide would bring that out?”

“I have no idea, I’m just saying that it could be that you perceive your own natural inclination towards aggression at times as dark and so you’re perceiving something that’s psionically aggressive as dark when it’s not.”

“But guides aren’t known for aggression, right? I mean, there’s that whole stereotype that’s practically one with the universe, holding hands, and meditating through trials and tribulations.”

Lou snorted. “I mean, most guides I’ve met are pretty chill and something about being a guide makes then feel even more chill, but just like sentinels sometimes have different callings within the tribe, so do guides.”

“My turn to not follow the conversation here.”

“Take shamans, for instance.”

“I’ve met a shaman. It’s like taking a bath in a concentrated desire for incense and meditation.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Probably.” Tony grinned.

“My point was about the difference in calling. But there are some guides who are focused inward towards the pride as opposed to being for the overall tribe. I’ve met only two who were solely focused on the tribe. Both were what I’d characterize as more abrasive than usual.”

Tony blinked into the dim room. “I’ve never heard of pride-focused guides.”

“You have, you just don’t think of it in those terms, but you may not have heard of this particular type of sentinel or guide. Sentinels and guides are all about the protection of the tribe, but sometimes, the psionic plane calls up specific protection for the pride itself. Sometimes that comes in the form of alphas or shamans for the pride leadership, and sometimes… Well, it was described to me as when the population of the tribe gets dense, the pride gets dense in response, and the psionic plane sometimes calls up enforcers drawn to a geographic area to keep the pride itself protected and in line.”

Tony blinked. “That’s not me.”

“Pride policeman? Why not?”

“I just— I don’t—”

“I’m only asking that you consider that what feels like something dark might just be something you’ve been running away from in yourself for a long time. I don’t believe it to be dark, Tony. Deep down, you are truly intolerant of corruption in a way few people I’ve ever known. You’ve built up a likeable persona to cover this intensity you have about you, but every time we worked just the wrong case, you couldn’t keep that cover going, and I’d see the real you—at least from a work perspective—come out.”

“No one wants that.”

“I never minded it. Do you think I couldn’t handle you when you were being real? No matter which aspect of you was on offer?”

Tony opened his mouth to retort and then snapped it shut with an audible clack. “Lou…”

“I see you, Tony; I’ve always seen you. And I’m not making any demands or asking anything from you except that you at least take a look at this and be honest with yourself about what frightens you. Is it a calling or having to shake off these masks you’ve been building since you were a child and be yourself?”

“It’s not easy.”

“I know. But whether it’s by your side or just noticing when you’re brooding from three thousand miles away, you can trust me to be there for you, all right? I’ve got you.”

“Promise?” He felt like a kid for asking for reassurance, but the idea of even considering the deconstruction of his carefully crafted persona made him feel naked and vulnerable.

“I swear it.”

Tony nodded again, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I should have paid more attention to this before we went up on that roof.”

“Why? Being a guide wouldn’t have made you bulletproof, and coming online right before would have meant Gibbs would have left you in the car until the Psionics Center could come retrieve you. I don’t know what the psionic plane was trying to tell you—if it was trying to tell you anything at all—but coming online minutes before taking sniper fire wasn’t going to change that circumstance for the better.”

“We can’t know that.”

“The way psionic energy resonates in me tells me I’m right that that circumstance wouldn’t have changed.”

Tony frowned. “So, if my supposition is correct that it was trying to get my attention, it was for some other reason?”

“That would be a logical inference, yes. Is it still trying to get your attention?”

Tony rubbed his sternum. “I think so.”

“Hmm. Still not asking you for anything, Tony, but you need to deal with the man in the mirror. You’re so busy avoiding yourself that you could be mired deep in everything you hate and not even know.”

That pinged so hard as true across that little tingle in the back of Tony’s mind, it made his breath catch.

“Tony?”

“Something corrupt is going on around me…?” he whispered so softly that only a sentinel could hear.

“I didn’t say that. It was just a—”

“No, I said it.”

“Oh.” Lou sucked in a breath. “When did you really start getting that feeling? The one that you’re trying to avoid. Was it really when you were about to go up on that roof? I know it was months ago, but can you pinpoint when you started to get that itch?”

Tony thought back to all those months ago, to the days leading up to Kate’s death. Memories he hated to pore over and had avoided since she died. He thought back to not feeling well, to wishing he’d stayed on leave longer, to avoiding his own impulses because he just wanted Morrow to come back—

Oh.

“Tony? Your heart—”

“Anyway, I don’t know that I have an answer for that,” Tony said sharply, cutting Lou off.  “I need to get ready for work. I probably haven’t had enough sleep to be effective on the job, but I suppose that’s not all that unusual a circumstance.” His mind was spinning on Shepard taking over the agency, and that he was on his work-issued cell. “Morrow would probably make sure we had a little time off, but things haven’t been quite the same since Shepard took over.” He gave subtle emphasis on Shepard’s name. “I don’t know her well enough to push for a day off due to overwork, Gibbs fatigue, and a revolving door of TAD agents.”

There was a long silence. “Well, think about my question and see if you can figure out an answer. I’m dropping you an email with some resources from the Foundation that might help you. Let’s not wait so long to talk again, okay?”

“Yeah, I think you’re right that I’m avoiding my own self rather than a real problem that’s out in the world.” Which hadn’t been at all what Lou had said, and Tony was pretty sure Lou would get the message. Tony had been a little paranoid since he’d realized Ari had profiled their whole team—likely for both Mossad and Hamas.

“Okay. We’ll talk soon.” There was a subtle emphasis on soon.

“Thanks, Lou. I’ve always known I could count on you.”

There was a pause, and then Lou asked, “Do you believe that, Tony? With everything you are, do you believe that I’ll catch you if you need me to?”

He actually gave the question the consideration it deserved, and the answer was easier than he expected. “Yes,” he murmured. “I’ve trusted you since we met, and that has never changed other than to deepen.”

“Good.” Lou took a shaky breath. “I’ll get those resources to you soon. Check your email.” The line went dead.

Tony kept the light off and went to the walk-in closet and the safe he had installed in the floor of his condo. He’d started keeping his laptop locked up, but he didn’t want to get on his internet connection. He’d also recently acquired a new personal cellphone that was kept turned off and secured. Only a small handful of people had the number. With the BlackBerry, he could get access to his email.

He opened his email and found a brief message from Lou already waiting.

— Tony, I’m on my way. Making some calls while I wait for a flight. Hopefully, someone will be able to call you within 30. Keep your personal cell on you today. Something feels off. -Lou

Tony clutched the phone tighter. He’d half expected that Lou was headed for the airport. His nearly verbalizing that the director of the agency was a problem had suddenly felt like this threat humming between them, but it still felt weird. Without any expectations, Lou was coming to DC just because he thought Tony might need him.

Lou had offered over the years, and the only thing that had kept him away from DC when Tony had the plague was that Tony didn’t tell him. Despite Tony’s radio silence at the time, Lou had known something was up, and had called repeatedly until Tony had finally talked to him once he was home recovering. Part of the reason Tony had gone back to work early was to keep Lou in LA. He’d wanted his friend to believe he was fine.

He hadn’t been.

Lou hadn’t been fooled for a second, but he’d let it slide.

Tony probably needed to apologize, but that was for another day.

Still in the very dim light afforded by the streetlights through the blinds, he lined up the phone next to his wallet and his keys and set about getting dressed. Since he hadn’t been sleeping well at home, it hadn’t been uncommon lately for him to go into the office super early, sleep for a couple of hours at work, and change into something he had on hand there. Because it had become such a habit, he had an excess of clothes in his filing cabinet.

But he had a feeling today was not the day for his newly acquired bad habits in the wake of Kate’s death, so he set about getting showered and dressed.

Thirty minutes later, he was ready to leave. He could hang out in the condo and wait for something to happen, but he’d rather hit the 24-hour diner and have a coffee than sit around in his place, where everything felt like sadness and failure.

He checked his badge, weapon, wallet, both cell phones, and then slung his backpack over his shoulder and grabbed his keys. As soon as he opened the door, he jolted in shock and nearly reached for his service weapon, because two people were standing in the corridor, lounging against the wall outside his condo.

Then his brain caught up and recognized one of them.

Dressed in civvies and barely recognizable, Harmon Rabb lifted a finger to his lips in a bid for silence. Then he pointed to his ear and then into Tony’s apartment.

Tony’d heard that Rabb had retired out of the JAG Corps because he’d come online, but he’d never followed anything beyond that.

Stepping back, he gestured for Rabb to enter.

His companion was younger by what looked like a decade or so, but the age was hard to tell. He’d looked like an academic if he wasn’t wearing an FBI badge clearly on his belt, with his service weapon on the opposite hip. He was tall and slender with longer-than-average hair for a federal agent.

While Rabb was prowling around Tony’s dim home, Tony tilted his head, asking if the man he presumed was Rabb’s guide wanted to enter.

With a faint upturn of the lips, the man slid past Tony and moved close to Rabb, following him around the living room.

Rabb hesitated several times, head cocked, moving slowing around the living room as if he were trying to pinpoint something. Then he stopped and pointed his finger at the smoke detector.

Tony briefly closed his eyes, wondering how long that had been there, and if whoever had been spying on him even cared anymore.

Rabb gestured towards the bedroom, a brow quirked in obvious question. Tony nodded his permission, and the duo left to go through the rest of the apartment.

Tony sat on the living room sofa and waited, not needing to follow the duo around and watch them in action.

After about fifteen minutes, the guide reappeared and gestured for Tony to join them in the bedroom.

The door was closed behind him.

“It was just the one in the living room,” Rabb offered. “Nothing is going to have the range to monitor through a closed door.”

“Thanks.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Good to see you again, Rabb. Wish the circumstances were better.”

Rabb snorted. “For me, the circumstances are greatly improved.”

Tony chucked. “I guess.”

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Reid offered his hand, which was the only time you should shake the hand of an online guide, so Tony returned the gesture.

“Despite the circumstances, it’s a pleasure, Dr. Reid. I’ve followed your career since before you joined the Bureau.”

“Really?”

“I think the first paper of yours to cross my path was the one on emotional regulation in high-stress professions.”

Reid’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s obscure. It was almost a dissertation topic, but I changed tracks and decided to publish it anyway ahead of my dissertation.”

“So, you’re saddled with this guy, huh?” Tony jerked his thumb towards Rabb. “My condolences.”

Rabb rolled his eyes.

Reid’s expression softened. “He’s been good for me. I offered to work as a consultant investigator for JAG, but left to work as a Bureau legal consultant instead. He and my unit manager have entirely too much in common, if you ask me.”

Rabb chuckled. “I’m helping Hotch loosen up. But we were sent by the heads of the DC Psionics Center. They had a chat with a sentinel on the West Coast, and then they roped us in. Ransone said you’d mentioned me, and that there might be clearance issues involved in this, which is part of why we were chosen.” Rabb cocked his head to the side. “My clearance hasn’t changed a lick since I was with JAG.”

Tony’s brows shot up.

“It should have, I suppose, but to work with Spencer, I needed to maintain his level of clearance, and so they kept everything as it was. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Tony shrugged his backpack onto the bed and gestured to the one armchair he had in his room. “Take a load off if you want to.” He considered the logistics. “Or you two can sit on the bed if you want, and I’ll take the chair.” That’s the way they went, and Tony was glad he was ride or die about making his bed every day, no matter how tired he might be.

He walked through a high-level overview of what he’d told Lou.

Reid had his brow furrowed. “And this feeling started when the new director came on board.”

“When I met her, actually.”

Reid and Rabb shared a look, then Reid looked to Tony. “Because of the situation, we were given a brief overview of your status before we came over. I know you’re classified as latent-sensitive, but you’re much more in tune with the psionic plane than you should be for merely sensitive.”

“Meaning?”

“I’m not sure. I think a shaman would have to do a thorough scan, but I can feel psionic energy moving around you. It’s one of my guide gifts is that I’m more in tune with the currents, as it were, of psionic energy moving on this plane. And you actively move it in ways someone who is latent shouldn’t be able to, but you also don’t feel like you’re online, so that’s a conundrum. And I do wonder if it’s this enforcer aspect that might be at play. I’ve never personally met a guide-enforcer, but I think Harm has…?” He looked to his sentinel, brow raised.

Rabb grimaced and nodded. “Once. They’re almost as rare as shamans, but their numbers are increasing over time as population density rises, and therefore the number of sentinels and guides in urban areas increases.”

“It’s not a direct causation,” Reid added. “If it were strictly about dense population and numbers of sensates in a given area, places like New York or LA would have several, but we see weird groupings and then voids. Oddly, there are none in DC, but two in Baltimore. One in Philly, one in New York, none in LA, and that’s it for the US.”

“So, all in the Northeast?”

“Yes. But then we see bigger clusters outside the US. There are four in São Paulo. That enforcers keep coming online or gravitating to the area speaks to something the Foundation doesn’t quite understand yet, but they’re monitoring. I’m not an expert on the enforcer phenomenon, but I read what information the Foundation has on the way over here.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Are there any characteristics?”

“From what I’ve read, there’s a stronger connection than usual, often starting at a younger age, with the psionic plane. It seems to be in preparation for when they’ll be needed. Enforcer sounds like keeping the pride in line, but it’s almost more like a pride guardian. Sometimes their attention turns inward towards what the pride is doing that might cause problems, and sometimes their attention turns outward to prevent harm from coming to the pride.”

Tony considered for a few moments before offering, “As much as I don’t like the idea, I can’t discount that this might apply to me, but I don’t see what it has to do with this situation at NCIS.”

“NCIS has a fair number of sentinel/guide pairs on board. A little more than the other purely civilian agencies simply because sentinels leaving the military service are often more comfortable at NCIS, AFOSI, or CID than transitioning into the Bureau, for instance. Despite being a small agency, the percentage of online pairs is noticeably higher.”

“You’re saying, if it is this enforcer thing, that whatever threat the director poses would be a threat to the pride at NCIS?”

“It’s possible,” Reid replied. “You could just be plugged in enough to the psionic plane that she’s setting off your alarm bells as if you were an online guide.”

Tony gave him a considered look. “You didn’t believe what you just said.”

Reid shook his head. “There are plenty of online guides in her sphere, and we aren’t getting mass reports about her. Which means she’s setting off your alarm bells for some reason.”

Tony rubbed his temple. “You’re taking this really seriously, considering I’m not online and could be wrong about all this.”

Rabb leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, giving Tony a serious look. “Here’s the thing, Tony, Ransone said when you said that she was a problem, that it created a strong resonance. A sense of fact in him. I’d like for you to tell me and Spencer the same thing.”

“I didn’t outright say that. I was talking to myself and observed my—” He cut himself off, not sure why he was trying to get around the situation. He didn’t try to find the words; he just opened his mouth and said them. “Jenny Shepard is corrupt.”

Reid flinched and jerked back, rubbing his chest.

Rabb sat up straight, like someone was aligning his spine with a broom. “Well. I guess we have work to do.”

“That’s something I didn’t mention,” Reid said softly. “Enforcers can declare if someone is a corrupting force on the pride. I just didn’t know they could do it if they weren’t online.”

~*~

Tony stepped off the elevator and into his pumpkin of a bullpen with his two shadows on his heels. They technically didn’t need him to sign them in, considering their credentials, but he’d signed them in as guests to avoid sending up any alerts. They were supposed to talk to Balboa first, the highest-ranking sentinel at HQ. Balboa wasn’t an alpha sentinel, but the only alpha sentinel Tony was aware of was in New Orleans.

The plan had been to gather more information. To let Reid get the empathic pulse of the place and feel how the psionic energy was moving. To give both investigators time to talk to the pride members working directly within Shepard’s sphere of influence.

All of that flew out the window to a barked, “You’re late, DiNozzo!” from Gibbs as he was standing at the window with both Shepard and Ziva David. McGee was fluttering nervously in the background near the edge of Tony’s desk.

What. The. Fuck.

Tony hadn’t even realized he’d stopped walking until he felt a gentle touch to his back, and realized Reid was directly behind him, offering a grounding touch.

Rabb stepped up next to him, which caused Gibbs to frown. “Rabb? What are you doing here?”

“The better question,” Tony ground out, “is what is she doing here?” He gestured jerkily to David.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Gibbs said.

“We’ll talk about it now,” Tony shot back. “Why is she back at NCIS?”

“Officer David will be joining the MCRT as your fourth team member,” Shepard said silkily.

Tony saw red. “Excuse me?” he asked softly. “You’re going to let a member of a foreign intelligence agency work with sensitive information?”

Shepard’s gaze flicked to Rabb. “She’ll be in a liaison position, and this is neither the time nor the place for this discussion. Agent Gibbs has already agreed, and Ziva will be starting with your team today.”

He was keenly aware of Balboa stepping up behind him, though he wasn’t sure how he knew that. And near Balboa was his guide, one of his field agents and tech wizard, Rachel Tucker. Then the stairwell door opened, and Lincoln Wilkinson and his sentinel Lilly Wu joined.

“No,” Tony bit out.

“No?” Shepard said, her brow lifted imperiously. “No, what?”

“No to everything,” Tony whispered. “No to her. No to this situation. No to you putting someone complicit in Kate’s death in her chair and disrespecting her memory and every agent in this building.” He’d been too tired for too long because the truth of that had been just out of reach until he’d seen Ziva David’s smug smile again.

Psionic energy began moving around him in ways he wasn’t supposed to be able to feel, but he latched onto it because it was comforting when nothing else had been for so long.

Nothing besides the occasional pulse of Lou at the back of his mind.

The energy surged in waves. People whispered and touched. He felt someone try to pull on the energy, but he pulled it back to himself. He couldn’t let himself be distracted.

“Just no,” Tony intoned, a resonance carrying his voice farther than it should be able to reach, causing Shepard and David to both take a step back.

Shepard flailed for her phone, calling for security. David pulled a knife.

“Most of all,” Tony continued, “no to the threat you represent because you are utterly corrupt.”

The psionic energy hit its peak as Tony passed judgment. Shepard fell back and landed on her ass, leaning away as if it physically pained her to be judged corrupt in Tony’s presence.

Then the windows blew out just as all hell broke loose.

~*~

Lou had called in a favor with a very well-connected and wealthy friend and had managed to get on a private plane to DC within an hour of talking to Tony. He hadn’t wanted to distract from what they were dealing with, so he’d kept his itinerary to himself, figuring he’d contact Sentinel Rabb, who had become his main contact, once he landed.

By the time he boarded and had to turn off his phone, Rabb hadn’t yet made contact with Tony, but he had high hopes based on Rabb’s reputation and past association with Tony that things would go well. Rabb and Reid would help Tony get to the bottom of whatever was happening at NCIS.

Lou was perhaps three hours into his flight, with another two to go, when he felt it.

Tony was online

Tony was furious.

Then Tony did something.

It reminded Lou of the first time he’d watched a court case where a judge had passed down a life sentence on a killer. There was a sense of righteousness about the whole thing, but also a sense of awe at the authority and trust that had been given to the judge to dispense such extreme sentences.

Lou realized he was bent over, clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack, and the attendant was kneeling next to him, begging him to respond.

“I’m fine,” Lou gasped. “There was a major psionic event in DC. I’m just getting some bleed over. Is there a phone?”

She nodded. “It’s on the wall by the galley. This plane doesn’t have any in the passenger area.”

“I’ll probably be on for a while.”

“As long as you don’t do that dying of a heart attack routine again, I’ll be fine with taking however long you need.”

“Thanks.”

At first, the calls were frustrating because no one he tried had picked up. Then no one knew anything. Then everyone wanted answers from Lou, but Lou was the one trying to get answers.

Then Blair Sandburg himself was calling, and Lou was perched on the too-small seat in the galley, talking to the most powerful guide on Earth about an event Lou didn’t understand when he had a mere thirty minutes left to his flight.

“It’s certainly not how we’d like to see an alpha-level enforcer come online,” Sandburg said dryly. “And there’s so much I can’t say over this line, but we’re en route ourselves.”

“Can you tell me anything? I keep answering questions, and it feels like I’m saying nothing because I know so little, but it’s definitely more than I’m getting back.”

“The line isn’t secure, and there are national security issues at play.”

“Christ.” Lou rubbed his forehead. “He feels hurt. Is he hurt?”

“He took a round to the fleshy part of his upper arm near the shoulder, and another guide took a glancing knife wound to the arm.”

“What the fuck happened? Never mind. I know you can’t say. I’m landing in thirty. What do I do?”

“You’re clearly his sentinel, and he won’t let us treat him until you’re there. I say us but I’m not on the ground; he’s literally keeping everyone away until you’re there, so you’ll get the rundown as soon as you land. If you could get him to allow medical treatment, that would be great. An agent from NCIS is going to meet your plane. Name of Balboa.”

“Tony has mentioned him.”

“I was going to send Rabb, but Rabb and Reid need to stay with Tony right now. It’s—” Sandburg blew out a frustrated breath. “You’ll see. I wish I could explain better.”

“We’ll be there soon, Chief,” a voice said from the background, “and you can explain all you want in person.”

“Yeah. We’re about four hours out. Hopefully, we’ll meet up with you at the Psi Center soon, but considering the situation, Jim and I could get held up. I have no idea. But we will see you eventually.”

“Okay. Well, thank you for calling.”

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you more.”

“You at least told me something.”

A few minutes later, Lou went back to his seat, closed his eyes, and reached out for Tony. They’d always been able to connect if he just focused on it. This time, it was like being slapped in the face with the connection. It was as if Tony’s psionic presence just collapsed into him, vibrating with stress and need and help me.

With everything in him, Lou tried to send that he was close and he wasn’t letting go.

~*~

A blue Dodge Charger was waiting at the edge of the tarmac with a tall man in a suit that screamed federal agent. To Lou’s senses, he was a strong, online sentinel. In the back seat of the car, sitting sideways, was a woman with dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, tapping away on the laptop in her lap while the glow of another laptop on the seat illuminated the entire rear of the vehicle.

As soon as Lou approached at a brisk clip, Balboa offered his credentials, and Lou did the same.

Fredrick Balboa, though he knew Tony called him Rick.

Balboa gestured him to the front seat. “I assume you want to get going to the Navy Yard?”

“He’s still there?” Lou asked incredulously.

Balboa made a face and gestured to the car again. “Let’s hit the road.” As soon as they were driving, Balboa gestured to the rear seat. “That’s my guide, Rachel Tucker. She’s very unsociable when she’s working on an issue. She’s got a secure satellite connection off of NCIS servers to several other agencies working the problem.”

“What is the problem?”

“In short, our new director was working with who knows how many other agencies to barter US secrets to get information she wanted about a pet project. Information that would have put a lot of lives at risk. That’s the high-level overview. I’m sure you can guess Mossad because you were already aware of the problems Tony was dealing with in the spring, but beyond that, I’ll let someone else decide what should be revealed of Shepard’s nonsense.” Balboa’s expression said exactly what he thought of Shepard.

“I really only care about Tony,” Lou said, trying not to be testy. “Who shot him?”

“You’re not going to like that answer. Because I hate the answer.”

“The only answer that would warrant that sort of…” Lou trailed off, considering. “Did someone on his team shoot him?”

Balboa grimaced. “Gibbs.”

“The fucker,” Rachel muttered from the backseat, not looking up.

“Why would Gibbs shoot Tony?” Lou bit out.

“Tony came online passing some kind of— I don’t even know what you’d call it.”

“Righteous judgment,” Rachel supplied.

“Right,” Balboa agreed. “He passed judgment on Ziva David and our new director, and the empathic energy was like riding a turbulent ocean. I don’t think he even noticed that Gibbs was looking at him like he was a threat, or that David was going into attack mode. I don’t know who meant to do what, but Tony declared Shepard corrupt and the psionic energy blew up like a freaking volcanic eruption in the middle of the bullpen. Papers were flying everywhere, the windows blew out, and people were screaming.

“So, Gibbs pulls the trigger. I think the situation freaked him the fuck out for some reason that no one has an answer to yet. Rabb saw it coming and shoved Tony. That’s why Tony just got a little through-and-through in the upper arm. But then David threw a knife at around the same time, and Rabb’s guide got the edge of it rather than Tony.”

“Why is Tony still at NCIS?”

“He won’t really let anyone help him. He’s keeping pressure on his own wound, but he’s in some sort of weird zone. He let Rabb and Reid closest and, fortunately, Reid’s wound could easily be tended to by Dr. Mallard.”

“They’ve brought in people from the Psi Center to try to help, but he shoves them back.”

Lou frowned. “What do you mean by shoves them back?”

“He’s literally shoving people away with psionic energy. Anyone who gets too close or won’t listen to him gets knocked off their feet.”

“He’s been tired lately,” Rachel murmured, and Lou turned to look at her, but she kept typing. “All the guides could feel it, but we try not to get up in people’s business. Still, it was a concern that he was getting so little rest.

“I think it was all too much. He comes online, he’s shot by his boss, who was someone he would have trusted with his back yesterday, he’s surrounded by people who keep pushing at his boundaries, plus he’s stewing in an environment that he feels at a primal level is corrupt. He absolutely needs to get out of that place, but he needs someone he trusts.” She finally looked up and met Lou’s gaze. “He’ll either leave conscious with you, or he’ll eventually pass out from pain and exhaustion, and they’ll take him to the Center. I hope that’s not the outcome. It’s empathically traumatic.” She went back to typing.

Lou got that there was something sensitive there, so he didn’t press the issue. He couldn’t deal with Tony until they got there, so he focused on the other issues. “Can you give me the rundown on all the other players?”

“Gibbs is temporarily in custody while they try to figure out why he shot a guide.”

“Whose custody?”

“Right now, DCIS.”

“That’s the criminal investigation arm of the Department of Defense?”

“Yes. Normally, a federal agent would be investigated by the FBI. Or this could possibly fall under the investigative purview of the Foundation’s Psionics Investigative Division, but the national security issues preclude them. Gibbs’ connections at the FBI made that questionable. So Morrow, who is the former director of NCIS and has been tasked with the investigation, threw Gibbs into DCIS’s lap for the time being.”

“Okay. And David?”

“Dead.”

Lou blinked. “Dead?”

“Rabb killed her. Snapped her neck. Gibbs is lucky that he was able to get away with just a few bruises and relieved of his firearm, because he shot in the direction of several online guides. The sentinels were out for blood.” Balboa’s hands flexed on the steering wheel.

Just the thought made Lou furious. “You included.”

“Mm. I managed to rein myself in enough to convince him it was better to surrender to custody and questioning than to have sentinels hunting him throughout the Navy Yard.”

“Fair enough. And Shepard?”

Balboa went silent, then lifted one shoulder. “She was unconscious. They took her to the hospital.”

“I have an update,” Rachel said. “But you didn’t hear it from me. In fact, you didn’t hear it at all.”

“Rach,” Balboa sighed.

“I can’t hear you.”

Balboa made a vague gesture with his hand.

“She has some kind of brain tumor. She was dying anyway. But now they don’t think she’s ever waking up. Apparently, the psionic plane judging you as a corrupt motherfucker is very stressful.”

“Jesus, Rach.”

“I call the assholes like I smell ‘em, baby.”

Balboa side-eyed Lou. “I’m sure you didn’t hear anyone’s protected medical information in this car.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“We’ll be at the Navy Yard in fifteen. I’ll give you a rundown on everyone you’re going to have to possibly deal with.”

“I’ll take the rundown on all the players, but I’m not dealing with anyone but Tony. I’m going to get to him, I’m going to get him help, and we can have our big sit-down, round table moment some other time.”

Rachel’s laptop closed with a snap. “They’re going to want to isolate him once they get him back to the Center.”

“Any center, or just the one here in DC?”

“Probably any center. He’s an alpha enforcer. There are like three on the whole planet, and they’re going to want answers to why here, why now, where he’s called to be, and all that jazz.”

Balboa started chuckling, shaking his head. “Rachel, my love, you seem to be forgetting that if Tony is called to be an alpha enforcer, so is he.” He jerked his thumb in Lou’s direction.

Rachel stared, her mouth a perfect O.

“The computers,” Balboa murmured. “So good with them, but can miss the obvious sometimes.”

Rachel scowled at the back of her sentinel’s head, but then seemed to concede the point. “Lean into it, I guess. I don’t know how that works.” She scratched the bridge of her nose. “I guess you’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“Blair Sandburg assured me they weren’t going to try to separate me from Tony, and that everyone was on board.”

“I certainly haven’t talked to Primes of that level,” Balboa said quickly, “But I’m assuming that’s true. We’ll back you up regardless. If you have any direct contact info, give it to Rachel so that if we need to slip away and make some calls, we can.”

He passed over what he had and worked out plans with Balboa for the remainder of the drive, trying not to let the anxiety get the best of him.

The main thing holding him together was that he could feel Tony in the back of his mind, holding on tightly.

~*~

As they were parking, Rachel leaned into the front seat, practically all up in Lou’s space. “I need you to listen to me. The closer you get, the more likely you are to smell your guide’s pain, fear, and blood. You need to stay in control. We can’t have a feral sentinel running around. I swear on every piece of computer equipment I own that we will help ensure that you get to Tony, but we need you to keep your cool, okay?”

“I hear you, and I’ll keep it together. As long as no one gets between me and him, I’ll stay on target and on task.”

“Spoken like a military man.” She patted his shoulder as the car came to a complete stop. “If you can keep it together, please let Rick and me take the lead.”

He nodded tightly.

As soon as they were near the building, he could practically see the psionic energy rippling over everything. It was like the whole building had been judged, and it was enshrouded until it could be cleansed. It was like it needed a shaman now.

It was difficult to do as he promised, and he was almost in a fugue state as he followed the sentinel and guide pair through the building and up to the fourth floor. He was sure he answered questions, showed ID, and possibly growled at someone, but his mission was to get to his guide.

Because he could indeed smell Tony’s blood in the air, and it was going to make him crazy.

Then he was close. There was a tangible presence that felt like Tony. The psionic energy was thick and heavy. The floor was a mess of scattered paper and broken glass, though most of the glass had blown outward, and remarkably, there had been no injuries from that. People kept to the periphery, pressed up against walls, except for a few who were clustered around a desk in a bullpen in the middle of the pumpkin Tony had always described.

A tall, lanky guide with a bandage around his arm and a missing shirt sleeve met Lou’s gaze. He stepped back, gesturing for Rabb and an older gentleman to step back as well. Considering that Rabb wasn’t losing his mind, Lou assumed Reid wasn’t seriously hurt and that his injury was minor.

Lou let his senses and the pull in the center of his chest lead him to where Tony was sitting on the floor behind the desk, legs sprawled out in front of him. He was in dress slacks and a muscle shirt stained with blood. His button-up was in his lap, clearly used at some point to apply pressure, but it had been swapped out for a proper pressure bandage.

Tony’s head was tilted back, resting against the desk drawers, eyes closed. Without opening his eyes, his lips quirked up into a soft smile. “Lou.”

Lou hunkered down a few inches from Tony’s feet. “Hey.”

“You got here fast.”

“Private plane.”

“When did you get one of those?”

“You know I didn’t.”

Tony’s smile broadened a little, then his eyes finally opened. “You came.”

“You knew I would.”

“Yeah.” He pushed himself off the desk a bit and then started leaning forward, almost as if his body had no will of its own.

Lou went to one knee and caught Tony as he went on his slow pitch forward, being careful of his shoulder. He couldn’t help but press a kiss to the side of Tony’s head.

“I’m really tired,” Tony murmured against his shoulder.

“I know; I think you have been for a long time. Can I get you out of here?”

“Yeah. Guess what, though?”

“What?”

“I’m your guide.”

Lou couldn’t help but laugh. “I know.”

“You’ve always known.”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t push.”

“No. Your path is your own. It wasn’t our path yet.”

“Is it our path now?” Tony sounded like he was fading fast.

“What do you think?”

Tony’s good hand fisted in Lou’s Henley. “I’m never letting go.”

“I accept your terms of my surrender.”

Tony chuckled. “I think I’m moving to LA.”

“Oh?”

“Mm. I keep getting flashes of LA every time I close my eyes. Also, it’ll be easier on my lungs. Maybe they’ll stop feeling like aliens that have invaded my body.”

Lou closed his eyes. “I’ll be where you are.”

“How about I just go where you are and we call it done.”

“How about you get some sleep first?”

“I’m scared to sleep.”

“Why?”

“What if this was all a dream?”

“What part? This nightmare going on at work? Gibbs losing his mind?”

“Gibbs is hiding something big, and something about my change made him— He wasn’t lashing out, but it felt like he was defending himself. I don’t know. Plus, he thought I was a threat to the new daughter substitute in his life.”

“He wasn’t wrong about you being a threat to her.”

“Mm. Not a threat to her. A threat to her secrets.”

Lou rubbed his hands up and down Tony’s back. “Same thing in her line of work.”

“Right. Tired.”

“Tony. You need to rest.”

“I don’t know how anymore.”

Lou pulled back enough to meet Tony’s gaze. “Just give in, darling. I promise I’ll take care of you.”

Green eyes seemed to search through Lou’s soul, before Tony nodded and leaned back in and slumped against Lou. A moment later, Lou felt Tony go boneless and give in to sleep.

If Lou didn’t have sentinel advantages, he wouldn’t be able to lift a man of Tony’s size, but he was easily able to get up with his guide in his arms. The psionic energy ebbing about the room was still there, but it wasn’t so cloying now that Tony was no longer on guard.

“We need to go to the Center immediately,” a man Lou didn’t know said as he stepped away from the wall.

“No. Not until Tony has rested and is aware of what’s going on and can make his own choices.” The man started to protest, but Lou fixed him with a glare. “I said no.” The man stumbled back. “Tony will be assessed here, where he’s most comfortable and under the care of his own physician.” He looked to the elderly gentleman, who was obviously struggling under the burden of not being able to help. “Dr. Mallard. I’m Lou Ransone, Tony’s sentinel. He’s spoken of you often. If we could adjourn to your offices, you can assess Tony’s injury, and we can decide together what the next steps will be.”

Mallard straightened up. “Yes, of course. This way. I can see why Tony has such faith in you, Detective. He’s always been a good judge of character. He rather reminds me of a man I met in my youth…”

Lou kept Tony held close, at last where he belonged, and followed the man Tony had spoken so highly of, listening to the odd prattle. He was aware of some sentinels and guides closing ranks around them, keeping back, but Lou knew they’d cover his six and protect him and his guide.

They had a lot to work out and many hours of chaos to endure before they could get back to LA, but for the first time since he’d left Philadelphia, Lou knew everything would be okay.

The End