Kayla Shay (kaylashay) wrote,
Kayla Shay

Fic: Heaven, Hell and Tomorrow (NCIS/Supernatural)

Title: Heaven, Hell and Tomorrow
Author: kaylashay
Rating: FR21
Disclaimer: I'm not Bellesario/CBS or CW/Kripke, so I don't claim to own them.
Genre: Slash; Crossover
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Tony DiNozzo; pre- Gibbs/DiNozzo
Warning: Male/Male
Timeline: Season 6 or 7 NCIS (no spoilers); Season 4 Supernatural (Henriksen did not die in Jus in Bello
Word Count: 3,881
Note: This started as a drabble and snowballed. It was written for writinginct from her prompt found here.
Beta: azraelz_angel

Crossposted: ncisfanfic; ncis_fic; gibbs_dinozzo; ncis_slash; sn_crossovers; spn_twisted; nciscrossovers

Summary: When a case with two dead Marines leads to the FBI and one of their most wanted, Tony finds himself undercover and in way over his head.
Dean glanced in the rearview mirror to get a glimpse of the man currently sprawled across the seat.

"You okay back there, man?" he questioned.

"Sure. Yeah. For a man that just found out vampires exist and they aren't even close to the canopy bed induced nightmares from his childhood. Sure… I'm fine. You?"

Dean just snorted. "Finding out the supernatural exists will do that to a guy. There a place you want me to drop you off? Think the next town is still miles away."

Dean left off his questions as to why the man was out in the middle of nowhere to begin with; the same middle of nowhere that Dean was hunting down a vampire nest.

"Uh…" the man seemed to be considering his words before continuing, putting Dean on guard. "Here's the thing. I really shouldn't be telling you this, but after seeing what I just saw I think they've got everything wrong about you. I know you're Dean Winchester."

The words hung out there and Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Didn't take you for FBI. They usually come with a suit."

This time, the man snorted. "Believe me, my suits are a hell of a lot better than anything the FBI could have. But this wasn't a suit type of operation. What do you know about two dead Marines that turned up last week in the Anacostia?"

"Damn. Guess that means we've got another federal agency to look out for. NCIS then?"

The man nodded and then added, "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. Call me Tony."

"Well Tony, unless you can believe in demons that possess people and sometimes end up killing the hosts when we try to send them back to the hell they came from, then there isn't much to tell you about 'em."

Tony sat up with a thoughtful look on his face. "After vampires, I'm pretty much open for anything right now. So they were possessed?"

"Yeah. Your Marines didn't survive the experience. Most don't. How'd you track me?"

"We've got the best forensic tech ever. She dresses Goth, sleeps in a coffin and bowls with nuns. You'd like her. She got a latent print off one the bodies using this highly expensive procedure. Then the match came back to you, a guy who was supposed to have died in St. Louis. Care to explain that?"


"Okay… Then this FBI guy showed up all hot and bothered over you," Tony continued with a waggling eyebrow. "But my boss can out maneuver any of the feebs when it comes to keeping a case. So we worked a little mojo- uh the computer kind, not the real kind that, you know, probably exists and I will likely freak out over that later- and tracked you here."

"What were you intending to do?"

"What I do best," Tony answered with a smile. "Win you over. From all accounts, you like classic cars, hot women and live on the wild side. They figured I'd fit right in."

"That so?" Dean questioned with a raised eyebrow in the mirror. "Are they tracking you somehow?"

"As long as it hasn't been fried, yeah. And even if it was fried, my boss is like a bloodhound when someone from his team goes off the grid. You know…" Tony trailed off with a thoughtful look. "Now that I know all this supernatural shit is real, I wonder if the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs is something other than human."

Dean snorted. "Knowing makes you question lots of things."

"So I'm guessing this all started with your mom's death," Tony made it a statement but Dean could hear the underlining question within.

"Something like that," Dean said quietly, trying not to remember the flames and his dad's shouting from that night so long ago. "Known pretty much my whole life."

"Your dad started hunting these things and trained you and your brother while he was at it. You ever tried to get out? Have a normal life?"

"Normal isn't what it's cracked up to be. Sam tried and it didn't get him anywhere. We're stuck for life. How about you? Why you a fed?" Dean decided it was time to turn the tables for a bit so he could figure out what to do with his federal hitchhiker.

"Was a cop first. Peoria, Philly and Baltimore before I ran across a dead Marine. Next thing I know, I joined the Corps when I wasn't looking and had a former Gunny as my drill sergeant."

A brief silence descended in the Impala before Tony continued in a more subdued voice.

"You got roped into your gig because your mother died. For me it was a frat brother. He was beaten and raped and the cops in the area didn't try too hard to find the guys that did it because Ryan was openly gay."

"You ever find 'em?"

A haunted look fell over Tony's eyes. "Just one. Last I heard, he was having a bitch of a time in a federal pen."

"Serves him right," Dean concluded. "So, how we going to play this out? I don't really have any urges to join homeboy in the federal pen. Your boss won't drop it if I just left you somewhere for them to pick up, would he?"

"Not Gibbs. He'd pursue his prey to the end of the earth even if it killed him in the process. I'd tell him the truth, but short of show and tell, he would think I somehow managed to get myself brainwashed by you. Who knows, maybe I am."

"It can happen," Dean said with an ease that showed how commonplace the strangeness was in his life. "So the only way he'd stop looking is if he knew I was dead, right?"

"Considering you're supposed to be dead right now, even that might be a little iffy. But if we could make it convincing, then…" Tony paused as he ran through his words again.

"Damn. Every time I take a roadtrip with a suspect, I find myself wanting to help them. At least I'm in the backseat this time," Tony mused to himself. "Just don't try to slit my throat or you won't have to worry about faking your death."

"Noted," Dean said with a curious glance in the mirror. "How long are you off your leash before the boss comes looking for you?"

"Two weeks, give or take. If they have reason to think something is wrong, like the tracker stops working or it stays in one place for too long, then they'll move in. Otherwise, it's my show until then. Got any ideas on how to kill you so you don't stay dead but aren't subjected to one of Ducky's autopsy tables? Those tables are cold by the way. I wouldn't recommend them."

"Gotta a few, but I'll have to see if I can get a little help. We also need to go car shopping. You up for that?"

Tony's eyes lit up. "I love cars. Had this '66 Mustang… sweet ride. Then it was taken out by a car bomb. What we looking for?"

"A black '67 Impala," Dean said with a smile.

Tony laughed. "I like where your mind is going Dean Winchester," he said around a smile.

A week and a half later…

"Damn!" Tony shouted as he tumbled into his usual sprawling position in the backseat. "Haven't had that much fun since Spring Break '93. At least you get some down time around all the demon hunting. My last break was a three-week enforced leave with injury pending investigation into me shooting a bastard Mossad agent to death to save my own skin. And let's not even talk about the time I had the plague."

"The plague?" Dean questioned as he started up the car to head off into the night. "And you say I deal with weird shit. At least I've never had some Dark Age disease."

"We do have our moments. Speaking of moments…" Tony trailed off and Dean risked a peek in the mirror. "We've gotta make this happen in the next few days, the sooner the better. I know Gibbs should be getting antsy about now."

"You know this won't convince Henricksen, right?"

"But you've got a handle on Henricksen. It's Gibbs that needs convincing."

"And you're sure this will convince him?"

The fact that Tony didn't answer immediately gave Dean the knowledge that Tony wasn't a hundred percent convinced their upcoming ruse would work.

"If it doesn't, I'll deal with it. Gibbs won't be coming after you." The words were said with a conviction that Dean could believe.

"You going to distract him or something," Dean responded with a teasing tone in his voice. At Tony's silence, he gave a grin. "You should just tell the man you have the hots for him. He'll either kill you and dispose of the body or toss you on the nearest surface and fuck your brains out."

"Trust me, there will be no fucking in my future."

"You sure about that?" Dean questioned as he shifted in his seat.

"Present company excluded. There will be no fucking with the boss. He's not someone you fuck with. Trust me."

Silence descended in the car for the next several miles as each man thought of their upcoming plan and what the outcome would be.

"We need to do this tomorrow night," Tony finally said quietly. "I can slip a call in to get the team geared up to be there for the grand finale. Will your- uh- ticket out be able to do it then?"

"He better. His boss needs me alive, so I don't think he'll let anything permanent happen to me."

"Still having trouble with the whole angels and devil thing," Tony admitted with a dark chuckle. "Vampires? Sure. Angels, the devil, heaven, hell… That's just…"

"Tell me about it," Dean said quietly. Then he brought the car to a sudden stop along the empty road they had been traveling.

Dean didn't turn around, but he caught Tony's eyes in the rearview mirror. Neither spoke for several moments.

Finally, Tony broke the silence. "Whatever you need. Just… If our plan doesn't work, try not to let anyone find out."

"Like I would let the feds know I like to take it up the ass occasionally." Then Dean paused to consider his words. "Actually, they probably have that in a file somewhere. Backseat?"

Tony just nodded and made room for Dean to join him in a tangle of arms, legs and clothing.

"Always wanted to do this," Tony murmured several minutes later as he lowered himself over Dean's naked form to nip at the back of Dean's neck.

"Don't tell me you've never fucked a guy before," Dean huffed out as he pushed his stiffening erection against the leather seat.

"Not that. You are definitely not the first guy and I like it up the ass from time to time too. No, I was talking about sex in a car. Never did it. Not even with the Mustang," Tony finished with regret in his voice.

"Never? Damn. Guess it's time to pop your cherry then," Dean said with a grin.

The grin turned into a groan when Dean felt Tony's slickened fingers slip into his hole. "I'll do the popping, Winchester," Tony said with a husky tone that went straight to Dean's dick.

"Then get movin', DiNozzo," Dean managed around a groan as Tony brushed his prostate.

"On it-" and Dean realized through the haze that Tony had intended to say more.

All too soon, Tony was sliding into Dean's body and Dean found himself pushing back as best he could in the confined quarters of the backseat.

Murmured words of 'God,' and 'Harder,' mingled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh as Tony drove hard into Dean's body. Their breathing increased and Tony tightened his grip on Dean's hips as he thrust harder than ever.

Dean managed to work a hand under his body to tug at his own dick as Tony continued his onslaught from behind. "Almost there," he breathed out. "Yeah, man…"

Then they were both coming and silence descended within the car as Tony collapsed with a spent huff on top of Dean.

"Tomorrow," was the last thing either man said before they slipped into a restful sleep.

"So, who's Themla and who's Louise?" Tony quipped nervously as Dean navigated the speeding car through a series of twists and bends in the narrow road.

The sirens and lights were close behind them and Tony had a sudden flashback to watching his car crashing in a high-speed chase on national television.

"Neither," Dean responded through his focused concentration on the road. "They die at the end and I don't plan on dying at the moment."

"Except you are going to 'die,' unless that angel of yours doesn't come through. Hell, I'm probably going to die if he doesn't come through. Why'd I agree to this?"

"Because I conned you into thinking the supernatural exists? Look, Cas said you'd be a little banged up, but he'd make sure there were no serious injuries."

"But what does an angel consider serious?" Tony said with a nervous tone as he glanced behind them. "Gibbs is probably ready to shoot me by now because I haven't managed to get you to stop. I won't need to worry about serious injuries at this point."

"Says the one who told me he could handle Agent Gibbs. We've got a few more minutes before the cliff. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Tony said with fake confidence. He shifted his cuffed hands behind him and angled his back towards the door. "Just say when and I'll go. Good luck, Winchester."

"You too, DiNozzo. Best fed I've ever met by the way."

"And you’re the best wanted man slash dead man I've ever met. I would say keep in touch, but that's probably not a good idea."

"Not really. On three," and Dean counted it off.


Tony knew opening his eyes would be a bad idea, but he did it anyway. He caught a brief glimpse of Gibbs standing near the bed before he slammed his eyes shut again to keep the painful light at bay.

"Guess I lived then," Tony concluded as he began pry his eyes open again with slower movements.

"Didn't give you permission to die, DiNozzo, so it's a good thing you didn't."

Gibbs' gruff voice was a welcome to Tony as his mind raced to put together the last few weeks he'd spent with Dean Winchester.

"What's the damage? Feels like death might have been the better option. And-" Tony hesitated, unsure how to approach the subject of Winchester. "I take it Dean didn't make it out before going over the cliff."

Tony noticed a raised eyebrow at his use of Dean's first name and made a mental note to stick to Winchester in the future.

"Got a few broken bones and ribs, dislocated shoulder that was popped back in, road rash and you won't be winning any beauty contests anytime soon. But you'll live."

"Good to know. Guess you want my report now," and Tony knew better than to wait for a response. "It started out as planned. Hitched a ride and befriended the guy. We talked a lot about fast cars, women and beer, but didn't get much headway on anything else. He has definite family issues, but then who doesn't. Didn't give any indication where his brother was, just that they had parted ways for a while. Has a real hate for law enforcement, especially the FBI. I honestly didn't expect him to rabbit like that when you started the tail. He got the drop on me at the last gas station and had me in the cuffs before I knew what happened. Wasn't even aware he had made me as a fed. He had definite Marine moves too, Boss. It was like a sparring session with you. Then he started spouting all of this shit about heaven, hell and how everyone who wanted him for something could just kill each other over him and leave him out of it. Said he wanted to take his own way out; find his own destiny. Guess that's why he went off the cliff. Suicide over whatever delusions he had running through his head. They find a body?"

"Nope. Current was too fast. They recovered what was left of the car, but he wasn't in it. We're ready to declare him dead, but Henricksen swears the bastard is still alive and laughing his ass off at us. What do you think?"

"He's dead," and Tony knew he said it too quickly, so he changed the subject. "How long till you can spring me?"

To his surprise, Gibbs let the subject move on. "They were saying a week, due to the leg, but we can probably manage sooner if you get turned over to me."

"Frying pan or the fire, huh? Guess I'll wait and see how pretty the nurses are before I make that judgment call."

Tony sighed as he made a gentle flop onto the couch. Just getting to the bathroom was hard work, but he'd be damned if he asked for help, even if Gibbs was offering. He'd been at the older man's house for three days and he could tell he was in for the duration. Plus, it was nice to have some company instead of being cooped up alone inside his apartment.

"What's on the menu tonight, Boss?" he questioned, feeling happier than he had for a while. "I know you don't have an unlimited steak supply in a deep freeze."

"Pizza," Gibbs answered promptly as he tossed the cordless in Tony's direction. "Your dime."

Tony had just finished the order when Gibbs spoke again, sparking a conversation Tony had hoped to avoid.

"Why don't you think Winchester is dead?"

"Why do you think I think that, Boss?" Tony questioned as he tried to keep his voice level. "They guy went off a cliff into white water rapids without a raft, vest and a kooky river guide… How could he be alive?"

"You called him Dean," and Tony knew that was his big screw-up.

"I called White Jeffrey and I put a bullet in him, so what does that have to do with anything?" Tony was on the defensive, but he knew he would lose.

"You had a bite mark on your shoulder."

'Checkmate,' Tony thought. He shivered slightly as he recalled the moment right after Dean had snapped the cuffs around his wrists.

"Any other time, and this would be kinky as hell," Dean whispered into his ear. "But since we don't have the time, you'll have to make do with this." Tony had bit back a groan as Dean clamped his teeth into the spot where Tony's neck and shoulder met.

Shaking himself from the memory, Tony turned to look Gibbs in the eyes. "I befriended him. The FBI didn't know he swung that way. Hell, I didn't until after a few beers. Then I found the perfect opening and took it. Like you and Ziva have said, it's a good interrogation tactic."

"You don't have to do everything I do, Tony," Gibbs said around a sigh. "So why does sleeping with him make you think he's not dead?"

Tony sighed. He knew that Gibbs wasn't going to give up. He should have told that angel friend of Dean's to wipe his memory if angels were allowed to do that. A wiped memory would have kept Gibbs from getting too close to the truth. And it was a truth Tony didn't want to share with Gibbs. No person should have their world rocked by the truth that Dean dealt with every day.

"He didn't kill our Marines, Jethro," Tony finally said in a quiet voice. He hoped the use of Gibbs' first name would tell the other man that this conversation was so far of the record that it wasn't even funny.

"If he didn't, then what did?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Hell, I'm still not sure I believe it and I saw things with my own eyes. Trust me, you should leave this one alone. Dean and his family are the good guys getting a bad rap. Just walk away and don't look back. Just this once," Tony finished in an almost pleading tone.

Tony held Gibbs' stare for several minutes as the man seemed to crawl inside his head to find the truth that Tony wasn't sharing. Tony was sure it would have continued all night if the doorbell hadn't rang, signaling the arrival of the pizza.

Nothing was said as the deliveryman was paid, pizza dished out and both men began eating and sipping on beers. Tony wasn't sure what to expect, but what Gibbs said next completely floored him.

"I saw something once. Mike chalked it up to me still having one too many after I first joined NCIS. Never did figure out what the hell happened, but it wasn't natural. Didn't look into at the time because I wasn't in the right frame of mind for it. Thinking what I saw back then and what you saw are related."

Tony considered his pizza over looking at Gibbs. "If what you saw is beyond normal explanation and like something out of horror flick, then you'd be right Boss. And Dean's been dealing with that shit all his life."

Gibbs just nodded and then asked in a soft voice, "He really dead?"

"Probably not," Tony admitted just as quietly. "The reason I'm not dead is why he more than likely isn't. And he probably came out without a scratch, unlike me. Car wasn't even his. We did a little shopping before I made contact. Although, it did have a sweet backseat, God rest its soul."

Gibbs gave a little grunt and brought his hand up to deliver a normal slap to the back of Tony's head. However, to Tony's amazement, the hand landed softly against the back of his head as Gibbs' fingers trailed through his hair.

"I'll let it rest, Tony. Don't think I'm ready to deal with the shit that Winchester's involved in."

"Don't think anyone is, Jethro. Something you're not telling me?"

Gibbs didn't comment and Tony figured it was time to go for broke. "Dean figured you'd either kill me and dispose of the body or throw me down on the nearest surface and fuck my brains out. Which is it?"

Tony held his breath waiting for a response.

"I'd be countermanding my own order if I killed you and you'd land yourself back in the hospital and I'd have an irate Ducky after me if I did the second option. Consider it on hold until the cast comes off. But when it does, your ass is mine, DiNozzo."

"Got it, Boss," Tony said around a grin. "Hey, think we can try out the Challenger at some point. I-"

Anything Tony was going to say was cut off as Gibbs' mouth closed over his own, driving all thoughts of the Challenger, black Impalas and the supernatural from his mind.
Tags: .crossover, .fanfic, .genre: slash, character: anthony dinozzo (ncis), character: dean winchester (supernatural, character: leroy jethro gibbs (ncis), fandom: ncis, fandom: supernatural, pairing: dinozzo/dean, pairing: gibbs/dinozzo

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