Supply and Demand: Unwanted Part 9/9 (NCIS/SPN Crossover AU)
Supply and Demand: Unwanted Part 9/9 (NCIS/SPN Crossover AU)
Author: tari_roo
Rating: PG13 (Gen)
Fandom: SPN/NCIS
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit from nothing.
Summary: NCIS/SPN Crossover AU. Gibbs didn’t want or need an Empath. But Director Vance was insisting and his team were avoiding him, more than usual, so when the T&E Centre called to say that Dean Winchester was available, it was time to pick up the unwanted Empath.
Spoilers: set somewhere in Season 6&7 of NCIS, and AU for SPN (all seasons)
Chapter 9
“So you’ve had a very busy couple of weeks, Gibbs.” Vance leant back in his very comfortable chair, his fingers steepled and a trademark toothpick in place. Gibbs was slouched in a chair on the other side of the expansive desk, legs crossed, the picture of ease and disinterest. His response was a quirked eyebrow.
Unimpressed, Vance continued, looking out of the large window beside him. “A good arrest. Busted a smuggling ring, which I assume you are still finalizing?”
Gibbs nodded.
“And despite losing a case to the NID, solved a murder and burglary in one.”
His interest piqued, figuring this was why Vance had summoned him to his office, Gibbs leant forward and said, “So they sent you a report? Confirmed it was Sorenson?”
“Yep,” Leon returned, tossing a one page report at Gibbs, who snatched it up and scanned it.
“Hardly in depth.”
“But they confirm that Sorenson confessed and admitted to meeting Matthews to purchase stolen goods, which ties in nicely with your bust at Norfolk.”
Gibbs frowned and tossed the report back to Vance, “And Capt. Cadman?”
Huffing a little, Vance smiled, “I kept on asking around and then was asked politely but firmly to stop asking around.... by the President.”
Gibbs shifted in his seat and grunted non-committedly, which earned him an stern eye from Vance. “Take it as a win, Gibbs. The burglary was the lesser of the evils - despite losing the murder. Leave it alone.”
Nodding reluctantly, Jethro pulled out his own piece of paper and tossed it at Vance. “And this?”
“Pretty self-explanatory.”
Vance opened the folded paper and read it, a resigned look growing as he finished. “Even if T&E went for this, there is no way we can afford a permanent assignment, Jethro.”
“Screw the cost, Leon. I don’t want him going back there.” Putting the request down, Director Vance leant forward and said earnestly, “Why, Gibbs? I thought you were dead set against getting an Empath.”
“I was ... I am. It’s just ...” Gibbs struggled to find the words, to express the absolute yawning horror the prospect of losing Dean awoke in him.
“You knew from the start it was temporary - he’s got work waiting for him at T&E.” Vance said reasonably, watching as Gibbs leant forward as well.
“He’s just a damn battery there!”
Vance shrugged, “Immaterial, Gibbs. That’s what he’s good at.”
Jabbing his finger at the desk, Gibbs growled, “Well he’s a damn good investigator, too!”
“Granted, but I can tell you now that Winchester could be Sherlock Holmes and T&E would still get more value from him as a ... how did you put it, battery, than we would from 20 investigators.”
Gibbs hurled himself to his feet and snarled, “Yeah there used to a system that placed more monetary value on a person than their human rights, Leon.”
Vance leant back in his chair, creating space between them, “You can’t compare this to slavery Gibbs, it doesn’t come even close, I ...”
Refusing to be sidetracked, Gibbs interrupted, “Ownership then. People used to pay more for a horse than a slave, for the breeding and monetary value, right?”
“I’ll give you that Gibbs, but still...” Vance tried to reason but Gibbs ran ahead of him with, “They treat him like an animal, Vance and...”
Interrupting this time, Vance shook his head, leaning forward, “You don’t know that, Gibbs, not for certain. You may not agree with or like their methods but they are well within their legal rights and there have been no complaints...”
Throwing his hands up in the air, Gibbs laughed, “Like they would make them public! And the law hardly compels every Kinetic and Empath to work for T&E and I would know!”
Vance agreed, “Yes, true...”
“And no one would actually sign up for that kind of treatment willingly, Vance. I had McGee check, Winchester has been with them for just under 2 years - and look what they’ve reduced him to already,” Gibbs interjected, slamming both hands onto the desk, leaning into Vance’s personal space.
Backing off, Leon sighed, “Looks perfectly healthy to me, Gibbs.”
Snorting, Gibbs shook his head and pointed at his chest, “Well I know different and there is no way ...”
Neatly over-riding Jethro, Vance waved his hand and said, “I think you’re forgetting that the law requires every Telekinetic and Empath to register themselves and as you just said Winchester has only been with them for 2 years.”
Momentarily thrown, Gibbs blurted out, “And?”
The picture of calm and reason, Vance sighed, “There is a law and there are consequences for not obeying that law, something you are amply familiar with.”
Gibbs quirked an eyebrow, thinking it through and frowned a little before saying, “It hardly allows for indentured servitude...”
Again interrupting, Leon smiled, “No, but it does make provision to ensure that they can enforce it and ensure compliance.” Gibbs studied Leon’s face, noting the usual tells and slight smirk. Vance thought he was a closed book but having spent two weeks with an Empath, Gibbs was getting pretty good in reading even carefully concealed emotion.
“Give me his file, I know you have it.”
Vance smiled and pulled a file out of his drawer, a thick file, held together with a lot of elastic bands. He handed it over and Gibbs sat, pulling off the bands. He flipped through the first few pages, stopped and then turned back to relook at them. After reading for a few moments, Gibbs looked up and said, “FBI?”
“There’s a lot more to Dean Winchester than you think, Gibbs,” Vance supplied vaguely, fingering his toothpick, watching as Gibbs continued to page through the thick file.
Gibbs muttered more to himself, “He got 7 years for failing to register as an Empath?”
To this, Vance nodded and said, “The maximum sentence, yes.”
“Not exactly fair...”
At that Vance snorted and shook his head, “Hardly. It took 20, ok 10 years of his adult life before they tracked him down. 10 years in which he could have easily registered, if his father was the one keeping him off the grid before that.”
Gibbs looked up briefly before returning to the file. He ran his finger over the sentencing sheet, reading aloud, “5 for bank robbery and 3 for escaping police custody...”
“Dean Winchester has been on the FBI watch list for quite some time, before they knew he was an Empath. Milwaukee, Green River County, a long list of misdemeanours and felonies, Gibbs. Not exactly the helpless innocent you’re making him out to be.” Vance tried to follow the race of flickering emotions, but he had never been very good at reading Gibbs.
Gibbs was silent, flipping through pages of the file. “Not much evidence for any of these charges.”
Nodding, Vance agreed, “No, but then the Federal Judge mostly ruled on his failure to register and every judge still remembers Galvaston. The other charges were gravy on a long sentence - “
“You mean a deal to get the FBI off their backs and stop trying to convict him themselves,” Gibbs said, looking up to meet Vance’s gaze, his expression carefully mocking.
“Agent... Hendricksen was it, was pretty damn pissed that he lost Winchester to T&E. They only discovered he was an Empath when they arrested him and his brother in Monument, Colorado, on a B&E charge. A lot of arguing went on as to who got to keep Winchester.” Vance felt as if Gibbs was losing some of his steam, his hackles were definitely deflating as he reached the end of the file.
Flipping through a few pages, looking for something, Gibbs queried, “And his brother? Sam?”
Glad he had read through the file one last time before Gibbs arrived, Vance pointed at the file and said, “Already registered... as a Kinetic. With no actual evidence on him and the FBI more interested in Dean, he walked.”
Silence hung heavy between them, Gibbs slowly closing the file and putting it down on the desk, gently. Feeling a little bad for him, Vance tried to sound reasonable, “Look Gibbs, I get that you’ve taken a shine to the guy, but perhaps you need to consider that maybe... its deliberate on his part. It’s not like Dean Winchester was a productive, up standing member of society before his arrest. See for yourself, no working history at all, hasn’t held down a job in his life, just racked up an impressive amount of credit card fraud. Just what exactly has he been doing since high school ... besides getting away with any number of felonies?”
Gibbs looked a little pissed at this, at the idea that he’d been played but Vance pressed on, “You may not like the T&E or their methods, but there is no denying that Winchester has gotten the better end of the deal - this or prison.”
Leaning back into the chair, Gibbs sighed, “Actually, I think he’d probably prefer prison.”
Shrugging, Leon smiled, “Maybe, but at least this way he’s contributing to society. Paying his dues for a lifetime of being an oxygen thief and maybe the T&E methods are this ‘tough’ because he resists...”
“I doubt it.”
Ignoring the tone, the growing potential to reignite the argument to ‘keep’ Winchester, Leon said firmly, “Just consider this, Jethro. Maybe he’s playing you, looking for sympathy, looking for just this kind of conversation to take place.”
Gibbs pushed the file across Vance’s desk, got up and said, “Whatever he did before, no one deserves this.”
Slamming the door behind him, Gibbs stepped out of the office, nodded at Cynthia and walked onto on upper hallway. On principle he’d pretty much take a contrary position to Vance on just about anything but he couldn’t help admit that the conversation had had the Director’s desired effect. His view on Dean Winchester was definitely skewed. He couldn’t help reviewing the past few days, examining their interactions, wondering if his own emotions had been manipulated after all. Was he being played, his strings pulled to allow Dean to escape or make demands on a more lenient sentence.
He put his elbows on the railing and watched his team below... with their potential cuckoo sitting amongst them. Winchester was sitting at his desk, watching as Dinozzo tormented McGee with a ... stapler? Ziva was pretending not to laugh and then Dean said something indistinguishable and they all laughed. McGee eventually grabbed the stapler and threw it at Tony’s desk, necessitating a scramble to catch it from Dinozzo.
Unbidden, Dean glanced up at Gibbs, smiled hesitantly but picked up on Gibbs’s mood and the smile faded. Packing the emotions away, Gibbs straightened and went down the stairs, noting that the antics stopped abruptly and as he rounded the corner into their desk area, his team bar Winchester were the picture of professional agents.
“Ready to go?”
“Sure.”
Dean stood, flipped a wave goodbye to the others.
“See you tomorrow, Boss... and Dean.”
“Later.”
“Good night.”
They were having a silent, last meal, in a somewhat clichéd sombre mood when Gibbs said, “So, the FBI, huh?”
Dean looked up from his noodles, half a strand hanging out of his mouth. “Yeah.”
“Never mentioned it.”
Incredulous, Dean laughed, “Like we’ve swapped life stories, man.”
“Bank Robbery, credit card fraud, murder?”
There was no response from Winchester, who just continued to eat his Chinese.
“Makes a little hard to help you.”
“Never asked for your help,” Dean said into his food, eyes downcast, shoulders stiff.
Gibbs felt a surge of emotion, anger maybe and wasn’t sure if it was from him or Dean. He pushed, “You kinda did.”
“No, I didn’t.” The tone was firm, insolent even, pushing right back and Gibbs could totally see the potential for violence in Dean in the look he shot at him. In response, Gibbs raised a doubtful eyebrow and dared Dean to contradict him.
Throwing his fork down, Dean stood and said sharply, “Dude, don’t make this out to be something it’s not ... you may have Richard Gere hair, but I’m no Julia Roberts - I do not need to be rescued!”
A little taken aback, Gibbs deadpanned, “Why, because you agreed to this?”
Dean barked out a harsh laugh and said, “Because life sucks and then kicks you in the balls... and you just take it. Thanks for dinner... but that’s all you’re getting.”
There was enough derision and innuendo in his tone that as Dean turned to storm off, Gibbs growled, “Hey, ..” but instead of verbalising his anger, his control slipped and he head slapped Dean, who stopped... stunned.
“Did you just head slap me?”
The tone was incredulous... and Gibbs felt a spike of shame which damn it he knew Dean would feel as well. “Quit acting like a little pissant.”
The hackles fell just a little and Dean waved it off but left anyway with, ”Whatever old man.”
Alone in the kitchen and faced with the very real fact that tomorrow a guy who he in all honesty liked despite many misgivings was going to taken away from him. The idea of being alone... having known what it was like to have an Empath again was a little terrifying. But Gibbs was used to dealing with his fears, going on in the face of far more tragic loss so he packed his emotions away and tossed the cartons in the trash and turned out the lights.
If he dreamt, he didn’t remember any of them and the cool morning lacked its usual peace somehow. He decided against going for one last run, as they were supposed to be towing the line after all. Dean found him in the kitchen and he had his taser. He didn’t ask, just nodded and Gibbs followed him into the living room.
“Sit.” Dean’s voice was subdued but firm, a dozen emotions circling their connection, none of them really tangible.
“Dean,” Gibbs tried, suddenly wanting to end this on a slightly positive note, despite last night’s dinner conversation.
Firm still, Dean said, “Just sit.”
So Gibbs sat and Dean perched on the coffee table and said, “Shut up and let me do this, ok?”
“Do what?”
There was no response but Gibbs felt something along their connection, a surge - almost a change. It felt weird but not wrong... more like something was shifting, settling. Dean has his eyes closed and was muttering to himself and whatever it was took a few minutes before he opened his eyes and said, “Ok.”
He offered the taser to Gibbs, who in return said, “What did you do?”
Dean shrugged, eyes on the floor, the table, the couch, anywhere but on Gibbs. “Doesn’t really matter.”
“Matters to me.”
The moment stretched between them and Dean sighed and finally looked up, “Do you trust me?”
And surprisingly enough, Gibbs found that he did. No matter Vance’s insidious facts, the thick FBI file, the very real possibility that he was being conned, he trusted this man. Perhaps Dean really was that good at manipulation but Gibbs had seen too much, felt too much genuine concern, genuine fear. So he nodded, and said, “Yeah.”
“Then trust me on this, kay?”
Dean wasn’t so much looking at him, as through him, past him to the days, weeks, years ahead of them. And so Gibbs sighed and said, “Then you sit.” He motioned towards the seat beside him. Dean slowly, reluctantly complied.
They sat in the exact same positions as Monday morning, with Gibbs disturbed as equally by those memories as by what he was about to do. Dean muttered, “Do it three times, no matter what... no matter if you think it’s too much or anything, 3 times. Got it?”
Hiding the shake in his hand, Gibbs nodded, “Yeah, I got it, kid.”
Braced and as ready as he could be, Dean nodded and Gibbs flipped the taser on and touched it on his arm as lightly as he could.
The icy plunge was no different than before and before it could settle, he did it again, feeling the ice feeling diminish and the loss grow but he pressed on for the final time, blinking at the bright light and vague sensation of ... Dean?
Winchester was sprawled on the couch, muscles locked and corded, riding out his own pain but rather than feel an empty, meaningless pit and an accompanying need to reconnect, Gibbs felt Dean. It was a very distant, just at the edge of your vision kind of thing and not nearly as satisfying as before.... but still there.
“What did you do?” Gibbs stammered, testing out the connection, feeling it but unable to draw more than the barest glimmer of power or emotion from Dean.
But Dean was beyond answering and wouldn’t be able to anyway... probably part of the plan. Gibbs resisted the urge to reach out and soothe the tremors as it would only mean having to do this again.
Eventually Dean got himself under control, the dazed distant look settling in, muscles occasionally twitching. Once he was able, they went to his room and Gibbs helped him pack, careful not to touch him, strangely terrified at just how easy it was after all - giving him away.
They didn’t stop for coffee, T&E was waiting and sure enough as they stepped out of the elevator Gibbs saw three T&E Agents, one being Andrews, in the bullpen along with everyone else, including Vance.
Andrews, smarmy smile in place shook Gibbs hand warmly, “Looking good, Agent Gibbs.”
Gibbs couldn’t help but notice his examining study, no doubt checking to see just how long he could hold out on them... before coming knocking for a fix. But if whatever Dean had done lasted, he’d wouldn’t be for a while.
Biting back the urge to punch him, Gibbs said, “Andrews. Nice and early.”
“Yes, busy schedule ahead for Dean now that he’s back in regular service. Well...” Andrews paused expectantly, hand out stretched as if he expected Gibbs to hand over Dean immediately.
“Wait!”
It was Abby, of course, who rushed over and stammered, “Can we say good bye?”
Smiling brightly, as always, Andrews thought about it for a moment before graciously laughing, “Ah, I see he hasn’t lost his touch, always was the charmer...”
It was a mean thing to say, implying so much and demeaning even more but Abby ignored it and took it as permission and quickly hugged a stiff and unresponsive Dean. Tony stepped forward and gave him a hearty slap on the back and Tim a brief handshake.
Ziva hesitated before briefly touching Dean, squeezing his hand. Only Gibbs, of course, could make no physical gesture. But he caught his Empath, his Empath’s eyes and sent as much of an apology as he could along the tenuous back end connection. If Dean received it, accepted it, he made no sign. Vance shook Andrews’ hand and with that the T&E Agents and their Empath turned towards the elevator.
His last glimpse of Dean was of a bowed head and resigned slump, and then... he was gone.
“Damnit, the guy kinda grew on me in the end,” Tony sighed, carefully watching Gibbs.
Ever the pragmatist, McGee disagreed, “Probably just emotional manip, or by product of being near him, or...”
Ziva shook her head, “I don’t know, Tim.” Abby however smacked him in the arm and exclaimed, “McGee, how could you?”
Vance just nodded at Jethro and said, “Gibbs,” before walking away. Gibbs watched him as he climbed the stairs and then chivvied his people back to their desks, letting Abby bestow a kiss as she went past.
The morning loomed... empty. Oh they had open cases, mountains of paperwork and suspects’ statements to finalize but there was something definitely missing.
Acting on an impulse and the infamous gut, Gibbs motioned for McGee and when he came over he said quietly, “Have a small favour to ask, Tim.”
It took 3 weeks but in the end that didn’t matter. After a particularly hard day, a grieving widow to give worse news to, Gibbs opened his front door and immediately knew another Kinetic was in his home. Leaving the lights, he closed the door and pulled out his gun.
“I hear you’ve been looking for me.”
There was a tall figure, silhouetted in the kitchen doorway, long arms, broad shoulders, shaggy hair.
Nodding, Gibbs turned on one of the small den lamps, the one next to the couch, and said, “Yeah, we need to have a conversation... about your brother.”
n*c*i*s*s*p*n*n*c*i*s*s*p*n*n*c*i*s*s*p*n*n*c*i*s*s*p*n*n*c*i*s*s*p*n*n*c*i*s*s*p*n
The end... for now
Authors note:
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. I thoroughly enjoyed writing it, having rewritten the opening chapter several times before I hit the right tone. I swore I would never post a WIP again and I broke that promise with this fic, but I ensured that I had written the majority of it, before posting again. However, I managed to get lost in writing the sequels before realising that chapter 7 still needed a lot of work.
My influences for the story are as follows:
Anne McCaffrey’s Talent series, notably Pegasus Rising.
Sue Foster’s (http://www.susans-stories.co.uk/gdp_stories.html )GDP Sentinel AU series. I read these years ago and was both fascinated and repulsed at the idea of Guides being second class citizens. So naturally, I am writing something similar.
Fringe. Yes, I borrowed Dr Bishop, but mine is a different parallel universe Dr Bishop who, in my mind, failed to save Peter and is now trying prepare every world for the war to come (so far). I don’t think there is actually going to be a war in ‘this’ world though.
I intend this story to be the first of a series, revolving around Dean’s experience with the T&E Centre and being ‘loaned’ out. I love Outsider POV stories and crossovers offer a unique opportunity to see characters through the eyes of another fandom’s characters. I will write an entirely Dean POV story at some point, but I relish the opportunity to ‘see’ Dean through others’ eyes. I debated at length with myself about the two Dean POV scenes in this fic, but could find no workable way to have anyone else ‘see’ them without it becoming overcomplicated.
I will expound a little more on the SPN AU world as the stories progress, on where Sam is and what he’s been doing, but the SPN verse is not the focus of the series, just yet. But note, as AU as this series is, SPN canon is not that different. It’s all in the subtleties. And yes, a number (cough all of you) of readers asked about Sam, but I wanted the payoff ‘ending’ so I deliberately ignored all pleas. Needless to say, Dean is wondering exactly the same things, “Where the hell is Sam?” However, as this last section revealed SPN canon seriously diverges from Jus in Bello, and considering that Dean’s in T&E custody and not in Hell, All Hell Breaks Loose did not follow canon either
And lastly, I am a chronic non-commenter and my excuse is always - I read offline and forget to go back and review. In light of this, I wish to thank all the people who read this fic but didn’t comment - I assume you enjoyed the read because you made it this far. I would have thanked you personally as well.... J
But to everyone else who did comment - thanks for reading and taking the time to let me know what you thought. Collectively you made my day many times over.
And that is that - until next time.
To be continued in two sequels so far.
First: Supply and Demand: Repeat Business (Criminal Minds/SPN AU), which resolves the possessed/cursed dagger story line
Second: Supply and Demand: Stolen (SG/SPN AU), which resolves the Carson-paperweight-theft mystery and NID storyline
For the lj readers, a snippet of Repeat Business ( link)