Title: Don't Kill Me While I Sleep 4/?
Genre: slash | Crossover
Summary: Harry still has visions after his defeat of Voldemort, related to anything and everything. He hasn't had a vision of an evilfor some time. For the first time in a long time, he tunes in to a serial killer that is killing naval officers. Desperate to stop the visions he has, Harry goes to NCIS and offers to help their investigation in any way he can. There he meets Tony, an agent with NCIS. Together the pair learns to love but it is threatened when the killer decides to make things personal, targeting Harry. Racing against time will these new lovers find the killer before it's too late?
Pairings: Harry/Tony, Hermione/Ron, no idea who else
Warnings: slash, language, violence and bloody descriptions of crime scenes, mature sex scenes…hmmm… I can't think of anything else at this point will let you know.
Word Count: 4, 050
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
I got the idea for this story from the book Dream Man by Linda Howard.
I apologise for any mistakes. My beta is currently unavailable and I didn't want to wait to get this to you all. You've all been so patient.
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, added this story to alert or to their favourites. It means a lot to me.
Don't Kill Me While I Dream
"DiNozzo, what's going on here?" a loud voice suddenly barked out from behind their three visitors.
"Um… well boss, this guy says that he's a psychic and that they're here to help with our case," Tony explained in a rush as Gibbs drew closer.
Gibbs' face became a stony mask causing all three of his agents to wince slightly. The older man absolutely detested anyone interfering in his cases especially when it came to those he viewed as wasting his time.
He studied the three strangers before him. None of them looked to be past their mid twenties and yet all three of them had a look about them. A look in their eyes that said they had seen more than someone so young should ever see. It made him wary.
Despite the look that Gibbs had leveled at their three visitors none of them appeared to be the least bit fidgety. Most grown men at least began to shift on their feet when Gibbs gave them one of his stares.
Gibbs frowned. The visitors didn't look or fit the profile of the usual kooks and weirdos they got trying to "help" with high profile cases and yet here they were with a self-proclaimed psychic.
"Let's go somewhere more private to talk," Tony suggested, hoping to defuse the situation before Gibbs caused a scene.
Gibbs gave his second a sharp nod in agreement, turned on his heel and marched towards the interrogation rooms. Tony barely suppressed a sigh. He didn't think that the day could get any worse but there was not a chance in hell that he was going to voice that out loud… just in case the universe decided to prove him wrong.
Leon Vance, Director of the NCIS, took a sip of his coffee and leaned back in his large office chair. All the reports and other paperwork were finally up to date and he had no pressing meetings for the next hour.
A knock on his office door broke him out of his relaxed state.
"Come," he stated loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side if his door.
A second later the door opened to reveal Johanna, his secretary, and she had the look of someone that was desperately hoping he wouldn't kill the messenger. Leon barely contained the sigh of irritation he wanted to express. He'd bet that whatever she was about to impart had something to do with Gibbs or his team. They always were making his life as difficult as possible.
"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt you but I thought you should know. Agent Gibbs has Harry Potter in Interrogation Room 2."
Leon frowned. He knew that he knew that name from somewhere…
A heartbeat later, the information clicked and he was up and out of his office as fast as he could move. Hurriedly, he made his way down the stairs and headed straight for the interrogation room. He was desperately hoping that Gibbs' actions weren't about to create an International incident or something along those lines. A great many people would be highly unhappy if Mr. Potter wasn't treated with the highest respect at all times.
It only took him three minutes to get from his office and into the observation room where Tony, Ziva and McGee were watching Gibbs interrogate Mr. Potter.
"Look, I've already told you all I know. What else do you want?" an aggravated British voice could be heard.
Vance immediately guessed that it belonged to Harry Potter.
"How about we start with the truth? You can't come in here, claim to be some sort of psychic and then proceed to give me confidential details of the case and expect me to believe you," Gibb's angry response caused all those in the observation room to cringe for two entirely different reasons.
His team was cringing in sympathy for Harry. They knew what Gibbs was like when he was on a war path, and nobody really deserved to be on the receiving end, at least not until they knew he was guilty.
Leon on the other hand was cringing for an entirely different reason. Gibbs was one step away from blowing a gasket and Harry Potter was the last person he should do that around. The paperwork alone from the potential fallout would be a nightmare and something he would rather avoid. That didn't include the possible consequences that NCIS might have to face. It would be as bad, if not worse, than creating an international incident, if not an interspecies incident.
Considering the type of creatures Harry called friend.
Leon had never personally met a goblin, but he'd heard stories… if he never managed to remedy that, well, he wasn't going to look that hippogriff in the mouth… err… beak, whatever!
Mind made up, Leon quickly walked out of observation and into the interrogation room.
Gibbs turned to snap at whoever was daring to interrupt. He took a moment to pause though, when he saw that it was the director.
"Gibbs," he nodded in greeting before turning his full attention to the young man seated across them at the table.
The first thing that occurred to him was how young the man looked. The shaggy black hair and bright green eyes did nothing but make him look younger. Leon was astounded. While in theory he knew that the Saviour of the Wizarding World was young, he'd been seventeen when he'd killed you-know-who so he was around twenty six, twenty seven now.
However, now that he was faced with the flesh and blood version, it just brought home the sheer magnitude of what everyone had demanded from someone so young.
"Mr. Potter, I'm Leon Vance, the Director of NCIS," Leon offered his hand for Harry to shake.
Frowning slightly, Harry none the less shook the director's hand. He didn't know if it was a good or bad thing that the Director of NCIS had personally come down to see him. However, he would take what he could get since talking to Agent Gibbs got fewer results than banging his head against a brick wall.
"Leon?" Gibbs bit out through his teeth.
Leon turned and gave Gibbs a slightly sympathetic smile, well it looked sympathetic if you really squinted and tilted your head to the left.
Harry sat and watched the silent battle of will between the two men in front of him. He was utterly amused but dared not show it on his face, at least until he got out of the little room that he was currently in. After all this time, he still detested small spaces.
"Information regarding Mr. Potter is classified Gibbs, at the highest level. He's worked for some extremely powerful and influential people. All you need to know is that you can bank on anything that he tells you. I know you're extremely sceptical when it comes to things that you can't quantify but Mr. Potter is the exception."
The only thing that Leon's speech managed to do was irritate Gibbs further and make him determined to get to the bottom of the mystery that was on Harry James Potter.
"Can I get out of here? I don't like small spaces," Harry spoke from the other side of the interrogation table reminding the two men that they were not alone.
Leon immediately turned to Harry and smiled politely at him.
"Of course, Mr. Potter."
The dark haired man held up a hand, "Please, call me Harry. Mr. Potter makes me feel old."
"Harry," Leon nodded in agreement, "If there's anything else you need to discuss with us we can move it to one of the conference rooms."
Harry stood and calmly walked out the door of the interrogation room even though he desperately wanted to run.
"If it's not too much trouble Director, might I ask that you release my friends as well?" Harry asked politely, the unspoken you had better, broadcasted loud and clear to both Leon and Gibbs.
White-lipped with fury, Gibbs followed Vance and Potter to one of the conference rooms. Somewhere between the interrogation room and the conference room, they were joined by Ziva, Tony and McGee who were escorting Mr. and Mrs. Weasely.
Once everyone, including Director Vance, was all seated around the conference table, Harry took a deep breath and recounted his story one more time. The entire time that he spoke he was aware of Gibbs sitting beside him, silently fuming.
"I realize that it's not much but I wanted to come forward with what I did have," Harry sighed tiredly and rubbed a hand over his face. "And if my visions go like they usually do, it won't be long before I have another one."
Gibbs snorted, not bothering to hide his disbelief and irritation.
Annoyed, Harry turned and gave his full attention to the older agent.
"What, exactly, is your problem with me Agent Gibbs?"
"I don't like people interfering in high profile cases and "helping" when all they want is their five minutes of fame and a name in the newspaper," Gibbs barked.
Harry shook his head, "I don't want that. In fact, I'll even go so far as to insist that my name be left out of it all together. If you can't do that then I'll pull whatever strings I need to, to get this case assigned to someone who will respect my need for privacy."
"You can't do that," Gibbs declared, outraged at the nerve the black haired young man was displaying.
"Actually," Vance spoke from further down the table, "he can, and he will if he has to."
Tony, Ziva and McGee were watching the entire exchange warily. They had never seen someone irritate Gibbs on such a level who wasn't being booked for murder.
"Tell me, Agent Gibbs," Harry began slowly, an idea taking form in his mind, "what would it take for you to believe?"
Gibbs frowned, "Believe in what?"
"In me," Harry waved a hand at his sketches, "in my abilities."
A thought full look passed over Gibbs' face. A few moments later he gazed at Harry triumphantly. There was no way that the young man would be able to do it and best of all it would exposing him for the phony that he was.
"I lost something a long time ago. It was very precious to me," Gibbs told him mysteriously. "If you can tell me where it is, then I might begin to believe."
Harry tilted his head to the side slightly as he stared at Gibbs. His face took on a sad expression and a soft "Oh." escaped him.
"I see. I can do you one better, Agent Gibbs," Harry informed him softly.
The green eyed young man placed an open hand on the table, palm facing upwards. He placed his other hand on topof it, as though he was holding something between his hands. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. A little furrow formed between his eyebrows.
Hermione and Ron sat silently watching him. They turned to each other, eyes rolling, silently saying here-we-go-again. They had been friends with Harry for so long now that they were used to his little displays of power. It never ceased to amaze them what all their friend could do, but they had grown accustomed to it over the years.
If they hadn't all been watching Harry, they would have missed the brief flash of light that emanated from between Harry's hands. The black haired man's face smoothed out and he opened his eyes. Harry turned so that his entire body was facing Gibbs.
"Tell me Agent Gibbs, do you believe in possibilities?" Harry queried softly as he lifted his hand. Everyone could see that he was clasping something in his hand but couldn't see what it was.
Confused, Gibbs shook his head slowly as he watched Harry reach over and place his hand over one of his own. He was shocked when he felt something cold and metallic fall into his hand with Harry's still covering his own.
It wasn't possible.
"Is it possible that this could be the locket you and your wife boughtfor Kelly's sixth birthday?"
Silence met his question but Harry pressed on.
"Is it possible that this is that very same locket that holds a picture of you and Shannon?"
Slowly, moving at a snail's pace, Harry began to move back.
"Is it possible that this is the very locket you've been searching for, the one that contains a lock of hair from Kelly's first hair cut?"
Finally, Harry moved his hand away completely to reveal a slightly tarnished, heart-shaped gold locket in the palm of Gibb's hand.
"So tell me Agent Gibbs, do you believe in possibilities now?"
Gibbs stared down at the locket in disbelief. With slightly shaking hands, he pried open the locket and stared. There in either side of the heart locket was a picture of him and a picture of Shannon. Pulling out his pocket knife, the older NCIS agent pulled the picture of a younger version of himself out and froze. Behind the picture was a lock of hair. The hair was the exact colour that Kelly's hair had been.
Eyes wild with desperate hope, he looked up at Harry. The green eyed young man gave him a sad smile and a nod.
"I'm taking this to Abby," Gibbs informed everyone, his voice sounding a little hoarse.
"Do you want me to take it, boss?" Tony offered, concerned about Gibbs' reaction.
Gibbs closed his fingers over the locket, holding onto it tighter.
"No. I'll take it down myself."
Before he walked out the room though, Gibbs picked up the phone on the conference room table and pressed the number for the direct line to the morgue. He didn't give Ducky anytime to start speaking.
"Ducky, I need you to bring the comb-set to Abby's lab."
Gibbs' request was met with silence on the other end. After a few moments, Ducky replied hesitantly.
"Alright, I'll do it now."
Gibbs hung up the phone nodded to those in the room and walked out. Tony, Ziva and McGee sprang up and hurried after their boss, curiosity burning between them.
Vance turned to the three visitors left behind.
"Thank you for reaching out to us, Mr. Potter. If you have anything else to add, anything at all, please don't hesitate to call us," Leon shook Harry's hand and then Hermione and Ron.
"I'll escort you out."
The golden trio as they had been called in school followed the Director of NCIS out the conference room and to the elevator.
On the ride back home, Harry feverishly wished that he didn't have another vision. His luck had never held out before, so he wasn't all that surprised when it didn't this time.
Gibbs walked into Abby's lab still clutching the gold locket tightly in his hand. The loud music a familiar comfort to the older agent who felt as though the carpet had just been ripped out from underneath him
"Gibbs," the black haired woman exclaimed when she spotted him, turning off her music to better hear him.
"Abby, I need you to run a DNA match on this."
Abby frowned and reached for the lock of hair resting in the locket.
"What am I comparing it to?" she asked, utterly confused.
She was relatively certain that this had nothing to do with their current case. Just then Ducky walked in carrying an ornate jewelry box. Silently, he handed it over to Abby.
"Run it against the hair in the brush," Gibbs told her quietly, not sounding at all like himself.
"Please, just do this Abby."
Both Ducky and Gibbs watched silently as Abby worked. Tony, McGee and Ziva watched from the door way not wanting to intrude but also not wanting to miss out on anything.
When the machine finally beeped its result, everyone seemed to be holding their collective breaths.
"It's a match Gibbs," Abby spoke softly, almost whispering.
She'd seen the name engraved on the hair brush and knew that it had belonged to Kelly, Gibbs' daughter that had died. Gibbs closed his eyes, took a deep breath and walked out, needing some space.
The rest of the team watched their boss walk out.
"Why did you have the box with the brush?" Ziva asked once Gibbs was gone.
Ducky gave her a small smile, "I bought her the brush set for her last birthday. When she died, Jethro asked that I hold onto it."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he finally walked into his home, his one sanctuary, firmly shutting the world out with the wooden barrier that was his front door. Hermione and Ron had headed home after extracting a promise that he would call them if something went wrong.
The raven haired man took two steps inside, dropping his keys into the small, blue glass bowl that he had placed on the tiny table against the wall. His umbrella stood resting against one of the table's legs and two hooks with a jacket and a coat had been nailed into the wall above the little table.
Automatically, Harry ran a hand trough his black hair, making it even messier as he headed in the direction of his kitchen. He pulled a glass out of the cupboard above the kitchen sink and turned to open the fridge door. Biting on his lower lip, he grabbed the carton of grape juice and poured himself a glass.
Having gotten a glass of juice, Harry left the kitchen and made his way to the living room. He turned on the TV, desperate to have some background noise that might drown out the thoughts playing through his head, if even for only a moment or two.
"Harry, sir," a voice squeaked from his left.
Harry gave the loyal house elf a tired smile, or at least he tried. It may have come out as more of a grimace. Definitely a grimace if Dobby's worried face was anything to go by. The small creature took his master's health and care very seriously after all.
"You be getting sleep, Harry sir."
Harry sat down on the closest sofa and leaned back. His legs were spread with his arms resting on his thighs, the cold glass of juice hanging in his fingers between his splayed legs. The sofa was exceedingly comfortable and molded itself around his body almost like a second skin.
"I'll try, Dobby."
Harry tipped his head to rest on the back of the sofa, his green eyes falling shut as he allowed his exhaustion to spread through his body.
The NCIS team, minus Gibbs, had unanimously and silently decided to head to their bar once work ended for the night. Drinks were ordered and everyone downed their first with haste. McGee ordered another round and slumped in his seat. Unsurprisingly, it was Tony that broke the silence and grabbed the proverbial bull by the horns.
"So who here might possibly be beginning to believe that Harry Potter might be able to do some form of magic?"
Silence met his question. Nonetheless, Tony nodded his head as if they had all answered him out loud. The sound of people chatting all around them and the familiar surroundings helping the team to relax, even if was only slightly.
Tony stared down into his own drink, lifting it a centimeter or two to swirl the liquid in the glass a little before he down it in one go.
As he placed the shot glass on the table that they were all seated around, Ziva spoke for the first time since entering the bar with the exception of ordering her drinks.
Harry woke slowly unsure of how long he had slept and of what it was that had woken him. It was dark out so he knew that he had slept the rest of the day away. The glass that had been in his hand had been placed on the floor beside his one foot and someone, it had to have been Dobby, had covered him with a blanket.
The raven haired man frowned slightly. He couldn't remember what it was that had woken him but something felt off. He only had a second's warning, the telltale tingling feelings creeping down his spine before it hit him.
The sound of the glass shattering as it was knocked over went unnoticed by Harry as he was sucked into a vision.
"In Mossad, we are trained to not ignore all possibilities, no matter how absurd they may sound," Ziva spoke softly.
Tony sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair, making half of it stand on end but he was past caring at that moment.
"That's what I thought. How long until you think Harry has another vision or this guy kills again?"
McGee shuddered, Ziva barely suppressed her flinch, Palmer paled rapidly, Abby winced and Ducky's hands tightened where they were gripping his glass, the knuckles turning white. Tony's question didn't bare thinking about. They all knew that their killer wouldn't stop until they stopped him or her themselves.
The broken glass made a loud crunching sound as a large, black boot stepped on it and ground it into the polished hardwood floor. Everything else was eerily silent throughout the house. There wasn't even the sound of crickets coming from outside the house.
A knife glittered in the moonlight.
A black, gloved finger ran along the sharp blade, the action done in a loving, almost caressing manner that would have made a sane person shudder.
A soft voice crooned into the silence, echoing in the rooms. The sound enough to make every hair on a person's body stand on end.
"Round… and round… the Mulberry bush…"
Tony stared grimly into the bottom of his now empty glass. As a team, they had had some pretty hairy cases. They had even had their share of horrific cases. Ari that had killed Kate. The time that Tony himself had been framed for murder. The case with the severed head of Parker Wayne. The serial killer who had taken off her victim's toe. The bombings that had killed Cassidy and her team. The five women who were killed and had their rings fingers cut off.
He could go on and on.
Despite the many cases that they had worked on, Tony still had extreme feelings of misgivings concerning their latest case. Things were already spiraling out of control and they had barely begun their investigation and if he was right, their killer had only begun killing.
A floorboard creaked as a black boot stepped on and then off it.
"…the monkey… chased… the weasel…"
The figure entered the main bedroom, footfalls muffled by the carpet as it advanced.
The lively crowd in the bar was doing nothing to lift the spirits of the team as they all sat nursing their drinks.
"This is going to be a bad one isn't it? Maybe the worst?" Timothy McGee spoke, his voice just above a whisper.
His team all heard him despite the loud noises that drowned out all quiet conversations. Nods all round the table greeted his question.
Absolute silence reigned as a black gloved hand slowly reached for the knob on the cupboard door.
The hand turned the cupboard doorknob quietly and in no hurry what so ever. The cupboard door squeaked as it was eased open, allowing a sliver of moonlight to enter the previously dark cupboard.
"…goes the weasel."
Inside the cupboard, a young woman's headed jerked up at the sound, her hair falling in messy disarray in her face. Upon seeing who had opened the cupboard where she was hiding, the young woman let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Her scream echoed through her home as the figure advanced on her, the knife flashing as it was raised and then sharply brought down.
"Yeah, Tim. This one's going to be real bad and it's only just begun," Tony answered the younger agent, silently praying that they would all live to see the case closed.