FIC: Lesser Gods 3/5
Part 2: http://kathana-grey.livejournal.com/27986.html
.-#-.
During the first week every word was stiff and awkward. The host appeared to be rattled and unsure, something Gibbs could understand perfectly. He would be out of sorts too if some strange snake creature had taken him over. He wasn't chatty either and even Gibbs' sneakiest interrogation techniques failed to unearth anything beyond that he was called Tony, his mother was dead and his dad was indifferent to his fate.
Whenever Gibbs tried to get a better feeling about the other man's background the green eyed man crumbled in on himself and retreated into a shell. Which left movies, a passion of the younger man, and talking about some general stuff that had occurred during the day.
When he woke up Tony always needed time to get used to steering his own body. Gibbs carefully observed how his movements were a little bit uncoordinated and Tony frequently bumped into furniture until he gained his equilibrium back. But no matter how dazed he appeared, he never stumbled into the range of Gibbs' chain radius. Which raised some questions and concerns.
“What happens if you try to do something the parasite doesn't approve of?” Like asking for help, badmouthing the creature, hell, attempting suicide or…assisted suicide by coming near a certain Gunnery Sergeant.
Tony bit his lips and looked away as if ashamed of a weakness, which was ridiculous. It wasn't the young man's fault that he was forced to be a puppet.
That meant it was likely that the alien was silently observing what was happening even during its sleep on some level. Well, that put a damper on a few plans and raised some questions, like why the creature would let its host out to play at night at all, how it could benefit from something like that? Sneaky information gathering wasn't likely, Gibbs wouldn't blurt out anything he knew about sister resistance cells to a stranger. Hell, most of the time Tony was begging him for stories about his time at NCIS, about the cases he had solved and places he had been. Pearl Harbor was one of his favorites. Tony frequently compared the NCIS agent to someone called Tom Magnum. 'Just with a military twist, minions and without the Ferrari!'.
The nights were disconcerting enough with the weird camaraderie that was developing between Gibbs and Tony. Days were worse. Watching the alien creature was like traveling on a C120 during a thunderstorm, you never knew which side would be up next. One second Dante would order his Jaffa to help clean up an area after a Hurricane ravaged it, the next second he would order the relocation of a few hundred innocent people and the destruction of their homes because they 'spoiled his view oft he bay'.
The question was: What did Dante want from Gibbs? There were not interrogations, no overt threats, no bad treatment. Excellent food and the servants made sure that one caraffe was always filled with rich dark coffee, just for the former Marine. The alien preferred some hazelnut crap. When Gibbs had complained about the drafty loincloth, more to gauge reactions than out of real annoyance, Dante had wordlessly pointed at a wardrobe and returned to his reports. The wardrobe was filled with what looked at the first gaze like a complete Sears Summer Menwear collection. That illusion lasted until the first touch and fled completely by trying them on. His old clothes had never been made of such fine cloth and had definitely not been tailored to fit him perfectly.
No Gibbs had no idea what the alien intended with all this and it was slowly driving him insane.
At the moment they were having a break after their last meeting of the day. Burley had delivered another file with pictures, Dante's advisers had left and the alien was currently in the bathroom. Even evil overlords had to piss if they inhabited some poor sod.
This was the sixth report. Gibbs sadly looked at a picture of Abby with her black lace parasol. It was July and the sun had enough power to threaten the pale complexion of his mistress of the dark.
Burley nearly jumped over the table in his haste to reach his former Boss. “Gibbs!” he hissed. “Why haven't you killed that thing yet? I know that you know how to, I saw Anraph's corpse.”
That had been mainly Riley's handiwork. Their group had ambushed a convoy of prisoners and in the middle of the fighting his old commander had seized the opportunity to sneak up on the enemy leader. He had taken the alien by surprise and torn the neck of the host to shreds. It had reacted too fast for a clean kill. Gibbs had shot the ...thing that had launched itself out of the damaged throat, more out of reflex than intent. Neither marine had expected anything like that and the implications had stunned and sickened them equally. Tony with his movie addiction would have called it a scenario out of some second rate Monster movie, but the reality of an alien parasite who could take over any of them;anytime, undetected... Gibbs had had trouble keeping the stale bread and power bar he had for breakfast down while staring at the long sinuous broken entity and then at the body it had left. It was too late for the host, the man was quickly bleeding to death but he had tried to tell them something and tears had run down his cheeks.
The guards had been shocked as well and fled, howling how it was impossible that a High One had fallen and left the rebels to stare at the dead, slimy creature.
“Is it because of the Host? There's no chance of forcefully separating the symbiont from the human it has taken over. The monster poisons the host.” The false marine colonel dragged his hand through his too long for regulation hair, making it stick up on end.
Symbiont was the wrong word, it implied advantages for both parties and Gibbs didn't see that at all. Gibbs' jaw worked furiously but he didn't speak up. Burley was touching on something that had niggled on him. Had he really held back and let an opportunity to strike pass him by because he didn't want to harm Tony? The host was as much a victim of the Goa'uld as all of them but it would be one death against getting rid of the parasite and the damage it could do to all of them forever.
“Gibbs!” Stan pleaded but backed off immediately when they heard Dante return. The weasel hastily excused himself and fled the scene, leaving the silver haired marine with the alien creature.
Dante had changed into his sleep pants. Something about the way the creature was looking at the retreating minions back made Gibbs' gut tingle. “You eavesdropped.” he stated, not asked.
Dante smiled brightly. “Of course. It was not hard, I have superior hearing. And if I confront dear Colonel Burley he will likely tell me that it was just testing you, fishing for information about your plans by playing you.”
That sounded like Stan all right but for all Gibbs cared his former agent could take a long walk off a short pier. This gave him an opening to poke. “Just like you eavesdrop whenever I talk to Tony.”
“That I would not call eavesdroping per se.” Dante lightly said, picked a peach from the fruit bowl and inspected it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
The tingling in his gut turned into solid lead. Gibbs walked to the couch, every step an exercise in precision and sat down.
Dante took a big bite out of the peach, licking his fingers clean afterward. He did not look apologetic at all. “Don't ask questions if you don't want to hear the answers, Jethro.”
Gibbs had given Tony permission to call him by his name only last week.
“You're not the type to lie to yourself, not for long,” the creature drawled, with Tony's voice, suddenly using contractions like it was the most natural thing in the world. “On some level you always knew who you were talking to during our nightly conversations.”
He might have had his suspicions but- “You lied.”
Dante shrugged Tony's shoulders, flung the half eaten fruit away and then fluidly sat down on the floor in front of Gibbs' couch. “If you think back... I lied less than you might think I did.”
Gibbs pulled his legs upon the couch, away from the creature. “Is that so, Tony?I haven't seen you stumble or blink helplessly either.”
“Yes, I deceived you. There was no question about your lack of willingness to have a civil talk with Dante, so I manipulated the situation in my favor. And traversing a room without the use of infrared when you are used to it sucks,” the alien elaborated, with no remorse whatsoever to be seen. The creature directed its body forward until Gibbs was caught by arms pressing down on his thighs. “My full name is Atonrah Dante, which is not only overkill and typical for my sire, but has the potential to piss off two separate overlords because the two don't like each other. I prefer Dante, just like you prefer Jethro to Leroy.”
A quick grin lit up the handsome face but it only served to stoke the angry burn in Gibbs' belly. “Do you even know the name of the man you use as a puppet?” The question slipped out and there was no mistaking the acid the words had been tipped in.
“This is MY body!”Dante growled.
Gibbs sneered.
“It. Is. Mine. Alone. I don't hold anyone prisoner inside. But you don't believe me, why should you. 'Check and double check' is one of your rules, isn't it Special Agent Gibbs. Check this!” Dante clamped down with his hands, immobilized the sitting Marine and then threw its head back. A low whine rose out of its throat and then something bulged at the base of his throat.
Gibbs could only watch in frozen, unbelieving fascination. The beautiful tanned skin tore an dall he could do was watch a clear liquid seep out. There was no blood, no gore and then a creature like the one he had shot appeared. It was light brown in color and covered in clear mucus,slowly gliding out of the host body until it had wound halfway around the kneeling man's neck and only the tip of the tail remained in the host. It flared its cuff like a cobra, provocatively presenting fragile spines and thin membranes, daring Gibbs to comment.
The way it clicked its mandibles and tilted its leathery head was so reminiscent of Tony when he mocked the villainous doctor in 'The Fugitive' for underestimating his colleague that it stole Gibbs breath. The creature screetched and lightly pushed its head against the chin of its host.
Gibbs didn't need a translator, the 'look, look' couldn't be clearer. And the human did look, took everything there was to see in: empty eyes and a chest that rose and fall but - Abby would describe it with the lights are on but nobody is home.
And there was indeed nobody home until the creature slipped back into its living hull.
“This body- “ Strong, tanned hands emphasized the words by gliding up and down the naked human torso, “is nearly two thousand years old and it is a part of me like the being you just stared at! It is just ME in here, me alone! No matter what other Goa'uld want, it's how I always prefer it so don't search for something that is not there. No poor, enslaved host present, waiting to be freed of my dominion, sorry to disappoint you. Do you Taur'i consider an organ transplant as alien? No, after some time it is as much part of you as your brain or your fingers.”
“Still not the one you were born with.” Gibbs drily commented and ignored how his heart hurt.
Dante snorted and leaned forward beseechingly, his glowing eyes searching the human's face. For what, Gibbs asked himself. Sympathy?
“Don't judge me by your own standards. Goa'uld aren't born, we are spawned. Hundreds of us by a single Queen and only a fraction matures enough to be implanted into a Jaffa pouch. Even less are allowed to develop far enough to be ready for a host. The Goa'uld world is a dog eat dog one, literally. Our... sires often devour the young.”
“You expect me to feel sorry for you?” Gibbs growled.
“Not at all, but don't expect me to feel sorry for your race either. This is just the way things are and your race, the people I encounter everyday... they bow to my face and curse me behind my back, insulted that they are for once not the absolute top of the food chain.” Dante reached out and before Gibbs could evade him his hands were caught by the aliens' and dragged forward.
There was no give in the touch, no chance to break the hold. It was a harsh reminder of the unnatural strength this outwardly pure human body could wield. Gibbs had seen Dante fling an assassin against a wall with enough force to crush bones as if the attacker was weightless.
The alien altered his grip and tugged until Gibbs hands served as a flesh and bone collar around Dante's throat. With each word the alien uttered the human could feel muscles and tendons working under the warm skin he now touched and he imagined the creature further underneath as it lay curled around the spine.
“The first time I was allowed to be independent I had to share, no, I had to dominate the consciousness of my host body and unlike most of my brothers I did not care for the experience. Not out of what you would call compassion. I found it plain annoying to still not be the sole master of all my movements. I was happy to change into an 'empty' body and repair the damage seconds after the original owner died. ….on a battlefield, not due to something I did, don't look at me like that. According to your faith what is left behind after the souls flees is just a hull, so why shouldn't I use it instead of it crumbling to dust?” He pressed his neck back into Gibbs' sweaty palms, rubbedhis jaw against the unwilling cage of Gibbs' fingers.
“Are you contemplating using one of your Marine moves, crushing my windpipe?” Dante was practically snuggling with Gibbs' hands at that point.
Yes, Gibbs couldn't say that it hadn't occurred to him. He felt betrayed by the creatures' deception. He had liked Tony and had felt sorry for the other man,needlessly as it now turned out and that made bile rise in the human's throat. But Dante was right too, Gibbs had helped keep the farce alive by letting his preconceptions overrule his gut.
Blue eyes stared into a pair that were green with only a hint of glow covering them. They resembled the ones he had seen on the snake creature. It was the same shade of color, somewhere between moss and hazel and for a moment Gibbs speculated if the eye color had been the reason why this body had been selected.
Dante turned his head,closed his eyes halfway and delicately tasted the fingertip resting nearest to his mouth. Gibbs did his best not to flinch away. “No answer, how interesting. Before you decide, listen for a moment.”
Gibbs growled.
“If you, against all odds, succeeded; I doubt you would like the consequences apart from my Jaffa tearing you to shreds in retaliation; Slowly, stretched out over days. Maybe you would live long enough to see one of my cousins step through the ring to take my place. You would appreciate them even less than me.”
And with that he disentangled himself and left the room.
.-#-.
Part 4a: http://kathana-grey.livejournal.com/28588.html
.-#-.
A/N: Sorry for the delay, my food poisoning is back with a vengeance and uhm... kneeling leaves very little time for being creative. ^^ It might take a few days until I can update 4.
.-#-.
During the first week every word was stiff and awkward. The host appeared to be rattled and unsure, something Gibbs could understand perfectly. He would be out of sorts too if some strange snake creature had taken him over. He wasn't chatty either and even Gibbs' sneakiest interrogation techniques failed to unearth anything beyond that he was called Tony, his mother was dead and his dad was indifferent to his fate.
Whenever Gibbs tried to get a better feeling about the other man's background the green eyed man crumbled in on himself and retreated into a shell. Which left movies, a passion of the younger man, and talking about some general stuff that had occurred during the day.
When he woke up Tony always needed time to get used to steering his own body. Gibbs carefully observed how his movements were a little bit uncoordinated and Tony frequently bumped into furniture until he gained his equilibrium back. But no matter how dazed he appeared, he never stumbled into the range of Gibbs' chain radius. Which raised some questions and concerns.
“What happens if you try to do something the parasite doesn't approve of?” Like asking for help, badmouthing the creature, hell, attempting suicide or…assisted suicide by coming near a certain Gunnery Sergeant.
Tony bit his lips and looked away as if ashamed of a weakness, which was ridiculous. It wasn't the young man's fault that he was forced to be a puppet.
That meant it was likely that the alien was silently observing what was happening even during its sleep on some level. Well, that put a damper on a few plans and raised some questions, like why the creature would let its host out to play at night at all, how it could benefit from something like that? Sneaky information gathering wasn't likely, Gibbs wouldn't blurt out anything he knew about sister resistance cells to a stranger. Hell, most of the time Tony was begging him for stories about his time at NCIS, about the cases he had solved and places he had been. Pearl Harbor was one of his favorites. Tony frequently compared the NCIS agent to someone called Tom Magnum. 'Just with a military twist, minions and without the Ferrari!'.
The nights were disconcerting enough with the weird camaraderie that was developing between Gibbs and Tony. Days were worse. Watching the alien creature was like traveling on a C120 during a thunderstorm, you never knew which side would be up next. One second Dante would order his Jaffa to help clean up an area after a Hurricane ravaged it, the next second he would order the relocation of a few hundred innocent people and the destruction of their homes because they 'spoiled his view oft he bay'.
The question was: What did Dante want from Gibbs? There were not interrogations, no overt threats, no bad treatment. Excellent food and the servants made sure that one caraffe was always filled with rich dark coffee, just for the former Marine. The alien preferred some hazelnut crap. When Gibbs had complained about the drafty loincloth, more to gauge reactions than out of real annoyance, Dante had wordlessly pointed at a wardrobe and returned to his reports. The wardrobe was filled with what looked at the first gaze like a complete Sears Summer Menwear collection. That illusion lasted until the first touch and fled completely by trying them on. His old clothes had never been made of such fine cloth and had definitely not been tailored to fit him perfectly.
No Gibbs had no idea what the alien intended with all this and it was slowly driving him insane.
At the moment they were having a break after their last meeting of the day. Burley had delivered another file with pictures, Dante's advisers had left and the alien was currently in the bathroom. Even evil overlords had to piss if they inhabited some poor sod.
This was the sixth report. Gibbs sadly looked at a picture of Abby with her black lace parasol. It was July and the sun had enough power to threaten the pale complexion of his mistress of the dark.
Burley nearly jumped over the table in his haste to reach his former Boss. “Gibbs!” he hissed. “Why haven't you killed that thing yet? I know that you know how to, I saw Anraph's corpse.”
That had been mainly Riley's handiwork. Their group had ambushed a convoy of prisoners and in the middle of the fighting his old commander had seized the opportunity to sneak up on the enemy leader. He had taken the alien by surprise and torn the neck of the host to shreds. It had reacted too fast for a clean kill. Gibbs had shot the ...thing that had launched itself out of the damaged throat, more out of reflex than intent. Neither marine had expected anything like that and the implications had stunned and sickened them equally. Tony with his movie addiction would have called it a scenario out of some second rate Monster movie, but the reality of an alien parasite who could take over any of them;anytime, undetected... Gibbs had had trouble keeping the stale bread and power bar he had for breakfast down while staring at the long sinuous broken entity and then at the body it had left. It was too late for the host, the man was quickly bleeding to death but he had tried to tell them something and tears had run down his cheeks.
The guards had been shocked as well and fled, howling how it was impossible that a High One had fallen and left the rebels to stare at the dead, slimy creature.
“Is it because of the Host? There's no chance of forcefully separating the symbiont from the human it has taken over. The monster poisons the host.” The false marine colonel dragged his hand through his too long for regulation hair, making it stick up on end.
Symbiont was the wrong word, it implied advantages for both parties and Gibbs didn't see that at all. Gibbs' jaw worked furiously but he didn't speak up. Burley was touching on something that had niggled on him. Had he really held back and let an opportunity to strike pass him by because he didn't want to harm Tony? The host was as much a victim of the Goa'uld as all of them but it would be one death against getting rid of the parasite and the damage it could do to all of them forever.
“Gibbs!” Stan pleaded but backed off immediately when they heard Dante return. The weasel hastily excused himself and fled the scene, leaving the silver haired marine with the alien creature.
Dante had changed into his sleep pants. Something about the way the creature was looking at the retreating minions back made Gibbs' gut tingle. “You eavesdropped.” he stated, not asked.
Dante smiled brightly. “Of course. It was not hard, I have superior hearing. And if I confront dear Colonel Burley he will likely tell me that it was just testing you, fishing for information about your plans by playing you.”
That sounded like Stan all right but for all Gibbs cared his former agent could take a long walk off a short pier. This gave him an opening to poke. “Just like you eavesdrop whenever I talk to Tony.”
“That I would not call eavesdroping per se.” Dante lightly said, picked a peach from the fruit bowl and inspected it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
The tingling in his gut turned into solid lead. Gibbs walked to the couch, every step an exercise in precision and sat down.
Dante took a big bite out of the peach, licking his fingers clean afterward. He did not look apologetic at all. “Don't ask questions if you don't want to hear the answers, Jethro.”
Gibbs had given Tony permission to call him by his name only last week.
“You're not the type to lie to yourself, not for long,” the creature drawled, with Tony's voice, suddenly using contractions like it was the most natural thing in the world. “On some level you always knew who you were talking to during our nightly conversations.”
He might have had his suspicions but- “You lied.”
Dante shrugged Tony's shoulders, flung the half eaten fruit away and then fluidly sat down on the floor in front of Gibbs' couch. “If you think back... I lied less than you might think I did.”
Gibbs pulled his legs upon the couch, away from the creature. “Is that so, Tony?I haven't seen you stumble or blink helplessly either.”
“Yes, I deceived you. There was no question about your lack of willingness to have a civil talk with Dante, so I manipulated the situation in my favor. And traversing a room without the use of infrared when you are used to it sucks,” the alien elaborated, with no remorse whatsoever to be seen. The creature directed its body forward until Gibbs was caught by arms pressing down on his thighs. “My full name is Atonrah Dante, which is not only overkill and typical for my sire, but has the potential to piss off two separate overlords because the two don't like each other. I prefer Dante, just like you prefer Jethro to Leroy.”
A quick grin lit up the handsome face but it only served to stoke the angry burn in Gibbs' belly. “Do you even know the name of the man you use as a puppet?” The question slipped out and there was no mistaking the acid the words had been tipped in.
“This is MY body!”Dante growled.
Gibbs sneered.
“It. Is. Mine. Alone. I don't hold anyone prisoner inside. But you don't believe me, why should you. 'Check and double check' is one of your rules, isn't it Special Agent Gibbs. Check this!” Dante clamped down with his hands, immobilized the sitting Marine and then threw its head back. A low whine rose out of its throat and then something bulged at the base of his throat.
Gibbs could only watch in frozen, unbelieving fascination. The beautiful tanned skin tore an dall he could do was watch a clear liquid seep out. There was no blood, no gore and then a creature like the one he had shot appeared. It was light brown in color and covered in clear mucus,slowly gliding out of the host body until it had wound halfway around the kneeling man's neck and only the tip of the tail remained in the host. It flared its cuff like a cobra, provocatively presenting fragile spines and thin membranes, daring Gibbs to comment.
The way it clicked its mandibles and tilted its leathery head was so reminiscent of Tony when he mocked the villainous doctor in 'The Fugitive' for underestimating his colleague that it stole Gibbs breath. The creature screetched and lightly pushed its head against the chin of its host.
Gibbs didn't need a translator, the 'look, look' couldn't be clearer. And the human did look, took everything there was to see in: empty eyes and a chest that rose and fall but - Abby would describe it with the lights are on but nobody is home.
And there was indeed nobody home until the creature slipped back into its living hull.
“This body- “ Strong, tanned hands emphasized the words by gliding up and down the naked human torso, “is nearly two thousand years old and it is a part of me like the being you just stared at! It is just ME in here, me alone! No matter what other Goa'uld want, it's how I always prefer it so don't search for something that is not there. No poor, enslaved host present, waiting to be freed of my dominion, sorry to disappoint you. Do you Taur'i consider an organ transplant as alien? No, after some time it is as much part of you as your brain or your fingers.”
“Still not the one you were born with.” Gibbs drily commented and ignored how his heart hurt.
Dante snorted and leaned forward beseechingly, his glowing eyes searching the human's face. For what, Gibbs asked himself. Sympathy?
“Don't judge me by your own standards. Goa'uld aren't born, we are spawned. Hundreds of us by a single Queen and only a fraction matures enough to be implanted into a Jaffa pouch. Even less are allowed to develop far enough to be ready for a host. The Goa'uld world is a dog eat dog one, literally. Our... sires often devour the young.”
“You expect me to feel sorry for you?” Gibbs growled.
“Not at all, but don't expect me to feel sorry for your race either. This is just the way things are and your race, the people I encounter everyday... they bow to my face and curse me behind my back, insulted that they are for once not the absolute top of the food chain.” Dante reached out and before Gibbs could evade him his hands were caught by the aliens' and dragged forward.
There was no give in the touch, no chance to break the hold. It was a harsh reminder of the unnatural strength this outwardly pure human body could wield. Gibbs had seen Dante fling an assassin against a wall with enough force to crush bones as if the attacker was weightless.
The alien altered his grip and tugged until Gibbs hands served as a flesh and bone collar around Dante's throat. With each word the alien uttered the human could feel muscles and tendons working under the warm skin he now touched and he imagined the creature further underneath as it lay curled around the spine.
“The first time I was allowed to be independent I had to share, no, I had to dominate the consciousness of my host body and unlike most of my brothers I did not care for the experience. Not out of what you would call compassion. I found it plain annoying to still not be the sole master of all my movements. I was happy to change into an 'empty' body and repair the damage seconds after the original owner died. ….on a battlefield, not due to something I did, don't look at me like that. According to your faith what is left behind after the souls flees is just a hull, so why shouldn't I use it instead of it crumbling to dust?” He pressed his neck back into Gibbs' sweaty palms, rubbedhis jaw against the unwilling cage of Gibbs' fingers.
“Are you contemplating using one of your Marine moves, crushing my windpipe?” Dante was practically snuggling with Gibbs' hands at that point.
Yes, Gibbs couldn't say that it hadn't occurred to him. He felt betrayed by the creatures' deception. He had liked Tony and had felt sorry for the other man,needlessly as it now turned out and that made bile rise in the human's throat. But Dante was right too, Gibbs had helped keep the farce alive by letting his preconceptions overrule his gut.
Blue eyes stared into a pair that were green with only a hint of glow covering them. They resembled the ones he had seen on the snake creature. It was the same shade of color, somewhere between moss and hazel and for a moment Gibbs speculated if the eye color had been the reason why this body had been selected.
Dante turned his head,closed his eyes halfway and delicately tasted the fingertip resting nearest to his mouth. Gibbs did his best not to flinch away. “No answer, how interesting. Before you decide, listen for a moment.”
Gibbs growled.
“If you, against all odds, succeeded; I doubt you would like the consequences apart from my Jaffa tearing you to shreds in retaliation; Slowly, stretched out over days. Maybe you would live long enough to see one of my cousins step through the ring to take my place. You would appreciate them even less than me.”
And with that he disentangled himself and left the room.
.-#-.
Part 4a: http://kathana-grey.livejournal.com/28588.html
.-#-.
A/N: Sorry for the delay, my food poisoning is back with a vengeance and uhm... kneeling leaves very little time for being creative. ^^ It might take a few days until I can update 4.