Chapter Text
Chapter 1 – June 2008
June 2008
Tony wandered the Seahawk aimlessly in the hopes that his very early morning stroll would help settle his mind. So far, he’d been walking around for at least an hour and that hope was proving to be in vain. Still, he wasn’t yet physically tired enough to return to his quarters to again try to sleep. Plus, his mind would not stop flitting to and fro trying to put together the real reason he was exiled to the middle of the ocean. Putting a top investigator and undercover agent on board a ship as Agent Afloat was, well, a pretty stupid use of resources in his opinion. And he may not know much about the new director, Leon Vance, and hadn’t yet had enough personal interaction with the man to form a full opinion, but he didn’t for a minute believe the man was stupid. So, why?
Later, when he thought back to this moment, he would blame his preoccupation, his lack of sleep, and the fact that he should have been safe on a ship in the middle of nowhere, for not noticing the pending assault.
---Manus Dei---
Tony woke slowly and with a feeling of calm detachment he was certain was artificial. He blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling in incomprehension for several long moments, then indulged in a vague appreciation of the artwork. It looked like the Sistine Chapel but…not. That era at any rate. Not the same picture or story but still obviously a story of something and still hauntingly beautiful. When he tired of that, some indeterminate time later, he sat up and looked around, muted confusion and appreciation again warring for prominence.
The room he was in looked, in layout, very similar to the locker room at Ohio State that he’d used most days for over four years, just more spread out and a lot more ornamental. The floor, instead of bland industrial tile, was a fine mosaic depicting a map of some sort. Tony thought the floor looked more Greek than the Roman ceiling, but what did he know? Not really his field of study…
The benches were wood instead of plastic and metal and the edges and supporting legs were thick and carved with extravagant flourishes. The lockers themselves were twice as wide as he remembered and again wood instead of metal, also elaborately carved, and had fancy old-style keys sticking out of brass locks with engravings that matched the brass hinges and corner braces of the locker doors. All in all, it was appealing, elegant, and impressive. In an overly lavish maybe Victorian, maybe Baroque, maybe Renaissance kind of way. Again, not his field.
Tony rose and walked over to where his assigned locker had been and found his name engraved in fancy calligraphy on a brass plate. He ran his hand over the nameplate then down the locker to the waiting key. He paused briefly to contemplate the wisdom of opening the locker but decided why not? He fully acknowledged the oddity of his situation but still he felt nothing but calm. Turning the key and opening the door didn’t reveal anything however. The locker was empty. Clean and in perfect condition, but still empty. He closed and relocked the door and sat down on the bench to puzzle out his situation a bit more.
He remembered walking. Then…pain? Yes. He’d been walking the Seahawk trying to calm his mind and he’d seen several seamen come at him just a moment too late to defend himself and he’d been hit on the head. He’d been dazed and sort of remembered being dragged off and shoved out? Over? Must have been out a porthole – surely someone would have seen them and stopped them if they’d dragged him outside to a deck. Then the biting cold of the ocean. He’d barely struggled due to the hit to the head, though was still conscious somewhat.
So. He’d been murdered. That was just great. Tony felt anger and bitterness surge for a moment before calm and detachment once again settled on him. He wondered idly who would get his case. Amusement flared for a second and Tony huffed a short laugh before the artificial calm took that emotion, too. Murdered and now in some kind of locker room limbo. Just his type of luck.
Tony sighed and rubbed a hand over his face and decided to look for an exit. Looking up and around, however, brought his attention to a new area in the locker room he was certain wasn’t there on his first perusal. Especially since there was a man standing there in front of what looked like a full wall aquarium. The man cocked an eyebrow in challenge and Tony tilted his head in thought. Well, why not? What else was there to do in locker room limbo then go talk to suddenly appearing mystery people?
The man was wearing a simple outfit of dark blue jeans, dark blue ribbed turtleneck, white sneakers, no visible weapons. He stood with his hands at his sides and didn’t move from his spot near the wall aquarium even while he followed Tony’s approach with his eyes. Tony didn’t feel threatened, but he felt the man could be dangerous and so was wary and watchful as he came to stand in the open area five feet away from his locker room companion.
The man endured Tony’s assessment patiently then gave a small smile, eyebrow still raised in challenge. “Hello, Tony.”
“Hello…?” Tony replied with his own eyebrow raise, silently asking for a name.
The man chuckled a bit and answered, “You may call me David.”
“David,” Tony repeated then snorted as disbelief surged and faded. “David? Seriously? And I suppose we are in Davey’s Locker?” he asked while waving an arm out towards where he’d woken. Why did weird things always happen to him?
David let out a pleasing laugh then grinned at Tony. “You are quick on the uptake, just as I knew you would be. It’s delightful. And, yes, that’s one of the mythologies that can describe me.”
Tony laughed a bit in return. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head at his current predicament. “Isn’t Davey supposed to be some kind of demon?”[i]
David shrugged. “It’s just one of the mythologies, as I said. You can call me Poseidon, if you’d rather.”
“That’s a bit of a mouthful,” Tony replied, glancing at the colorful fish in the aquarium before returning his attention to David.
“Neptune?” David offered with a smile.
“That’s at least part of my heritage,” Tony acknowledged with his own smile.
“Ryujin?” David offered, his features flashing momentarily to something more Asian before reverting back to his previous visage.
Tony furrowed his brow in thought. “Japanese?” he asked.
“Yes,” David replied with a small nod. “And I can offer up any other number of names as well, all denoting my dominion over the sea.”
“David is fine,” Tony said then was quiet for a moment before asking, “And why do I rate the personal attention of the god of the sea?”
David turned his attention to the aquarium then glanced back at Tony with a smirk. “Your people have currently settled on the term Manus Dei.”
“Hand of God,” Tony responded softly and took a deep breath while also turning his attention to the aquarium. Disquiet surged, surged, and faded. “Why me? There are less than twenty Manus Dei each year in the United States. How could I possibly serve your needs?”
“There are many ways in which you could serve me, Tony, if you choose,” David said, turning his gaze back fully onto Tony.
“I get a choice?” Tony asked, bitterness flaring, fading. He didn’t take his attention from the aquarium, determinedly following the colorful fish as they darted about. “Do I get to choose how far back I go, too?”
“We will negotiate that, yes,” David acknowledged, his voice mild, kind, though not cajoling in any way.
Tony shuddered in response to the kindness in David’s tone. Afraid of it. Longing for it. Calmness settled again. “You’re keeping me calm, aren’t you? Keeping my emotions flat.”
“Yes,” David replied simply, no guilt or manipulation evident in voice or face. “It ensures you can think clearly as we come to an agreement. Plus, I hate drama.”
A laugh was surprised out of Tony at that and he smiled slightly as amusement waxed, pulsed, and faded. A moment later nervousness spiked, and faded, as Tony turned to David, determined to face whatever was coming his way. “What kind of agreement? How do we reach it? And why do we need one? Surely you have the ability to just…compel me to do whatever you need?”
“No,” David disagreed firmly. “Free will is still a thing, Tony, and enforced on those like me in ways beyond your understanding. While I can ask and hint and help, you must willingly and knowingly enter into any agreement we make.”
Tony studied David again at that statement, not sure he really believed that given some of what he’d read about Manus Dei.
“That’s not to say, of course, that I won’t use all my powers of persuasion to get you to see my way of thinking,” David said with a grim smile. “And anything I know about you as well, which, to give full disclosure, is everything.”
Tony shuddered again as instinctive fear washed over him, then faded. The following enforced calm allowed Tony to think for several minutes, David remaining obligingly silent. “Everything I’ve heard or read about Manus Dei says that they undertake tasks for their patron,” Tony said, staring at David in curiosity. “These tasks change the future in ways none of them can actually speak about beforehand. In fact, none of them can speak of anything at all until released by their patron and, even then, the details they pass on tend to be on the light side. Everyone agrees, though, that things are always better.”
“All true,” David agreed with a nod.
“I don’t remember anything about negotiation, though,” Tony said, a question in his tone.
“It’s one of those things that cannot be spoken of,” David answered easily. “Generally.”
“But always present?” Tony asked, pressing for a bit of reassurance.
“Yes, always,” David affirmed. “Negotiation. Agreement. Consent.”
“Sounds like kinky sex,” Tony said as amusement flared.
David laughed. “Perhaps. But not with me, certainly.”
“So how do we do this?” Tony asked, suddenly curious and interested in moving forward. “Some of what I’ve read implies that the tasks aren’t always something that the Manus Dei want to do. At all.”
“And do you always want to do a task?” David asked in challenge. “Do you want to write reports or wait for warrants or dig through dumpsters?”
“Those things are necessary,” Tony defended then nodded in understanding. “So these tasks that we agree to, that other Manus Dei have agreed to, are necessary, even if they aren’t desired, per se.”
“Yes, exactly,” David agreed then stayed silent, simply staring at Tony.
Tony stared back. “So….? What do you want of me? How far back do you want to send me?”
David nodded his head toward the aquarium and placed a hand on the glass. “It’s a balance of power, Tony. One that can be influenced by a number of things. Look at the fish.”
Tony looked at the fish but didn’t see anything more than he’d seen before. “They’re pretty,” he said dryly. “I can’t identify any of them.”
“That’s all right,” David laughed. “Just take note of how many there are, what the aquarium looks like.”
“Sure,” Tony said with a shrug. He looked again, estimated maybe a hundred fish, but again saw nothing he felt was out of place. “It looks fine to me. I don’t know anything about aquariums like this.”
“That’s all right,” David said again. “These fish represent the power available to me to send you back in time. The more fish, the more power, the farther back.”
Tony nodded warily. David’s tone had deepened and his eyes had brightened and Tony could feel power building around him. The artificial calm warred with instinctual fear. “That makes sense,” he said, fighting the urge to step back from the being in front of him.
“As a baseline, I can send anyone I please back in time up to a year and a day,” David said, eyes brightening further, focused on Tony. “However, you have several…let’s call them boosters, that extend that timeframe.”
“I died at sea?” Tony guessed. That seemed likely to him and part of the whole Davey’s Locker mythos.
“That’s one thing, yes,” David agreed, his hand starting to caress the aquarium glass. “You not only died at sea, you were murdered at sea. By seamen.”
“That makes a difference?” Tony asked curiously as he watched the number of fish in the aquarium multiply, watched the aquarium deepen and acquire additional rocks and plants.
“Yes,” David said, still caressing the glass, still staring at Tony. “Also, you were murdered using the sea. That knock to your head was only a grade two concussion. You would have recovered just fine if you hadn’t been tossed out to drown.”
Tony watched the aquarium deepen and fish increase again and nodded. “All right,” he said, feeling odd for a moment that the discussion of his own murder wasn’t bothering him. “And what does that mean in a practical sense?”
“You also belong to me in your own right,” David said. Another caress, even more fish, brighter eyes. “You swore yourself to the sea when you swore to protect and seek justice for my sailors.”
“I can see that,” Tony agreed then startled and stepped back as the glass of the aquarium flashed and changed from showing fish to showing Tony in his quarters aboard the Seahawk.
“You don’t have to agree to go back, you know,” David said, his voice mildly mocking. “You can, if you wish, simply go on. Or I can send you back to just before you started your midnight walk.”
Tony gave David as much of a glare as his artificial calm allowed. “That seems pointless. They’d probably just kill me some other day.”
“Agreed,” David said then gave mean smile. “But if you were careful, and I gave you the perpetrators names and plans and a few hints where to look for evidence, you could ruin them all before they got that chance.”
“That…sounds fantastic, actually,” Tony said, anger spiking, fading. “I feel like a little vengeance could agree with me. But still not that helpful to you.”
“True enough,” David said and trailed his hand down below the image to rest on a bright white line. He trailed a finger back and forth and the image correspondingly reversed or sped forward.
“Is that a slider on my life?” Tony asked, affront leaking through the artificial calm.
David smirked and moved the slider to another image, one of Tony lying asleep in his own bed. “Just sending you back to the immediate past doesn’t serve me as much as I’d want. Though continuing to have your abilities used in service of my sailors would be a gift, certainly, do not doubt that. Still, I could send you here, to the morning you were to fly to California, and prevent you from going and being involved in any way with Director Shepard’s death. A nice bout of food poisoning or minor hospital stay from a hit a run maybe.”
Tony grimaced. “I’d probably still get blamed for it,” he said.
“Perhaps,” David agreed with a shrug. “And Director Vance would still send you afloat.”
“That’s no consolation,” Tony complained.
David nodded in acknowledgment and moved the slider again.
Tony staggered a bit and nearly fell. He put a hand to his head at the sudden headache and breathed deeply until it passed. He looked back up at David and knew something had changed within himself but couldn’t place it. “What did you do to me?”
“You’ll figure it out,” David said by way of an answer, face placid. “I could place you here, the day Director Shepard asked you to go undercover for her little vendetta.”
“No,” Tony said immediately with a shake of his head. “There is no viable way I could have refused her. I’ve gone over and over that in my head. The only way I could have gotten out of that is if I’d already known Jeanne to begin with. I don’t want to redo that part of my life if I’ve got other options. Go back further.”
David pushed the slider back and this time Tony did fall to the ground, hands clasped to head, gasping at the pain. Several minutes passed before Tony was able to stand.
“What are you doing to me?” Tony asked, unease rising, and not fading completely.
“You’ll figure it out,” David said again, face still placid. “I could send you here, the day Agent Gibbs gets injured. You could prevent it and then carry on working for him. You could approach him with Director Shepard’s undercover request and he would help you get out of it. Or I could give you a way to anonymously report her brain tumor so she could be removed from office.”
“Then Vance would be there sooner and I’d be afloat again,” Tony said with snort. “Not that great.”
“I could give you the means to keep him from sending you afloat,” David offered back.
That caught Tony’s attention and he gave that scenario some thought. Eventually Tony nodded slightly. “That has promise. But I’d still be stuck with Gibbs, I think. He’s…possessive. Despite all the problems, I liked being team lead and I don’t know if he would recommend me to move on to a lead position since he’d lose all the skill and stability I brought to the team.”
“Yes,” David agreed, giving Tony a pointed look. “It’s good you see your skills.”
“That doesn’t sound like a compliment,” Tony said unsurely. In fact, that sounded like a warning of some kind despite the fact that the being’s tone of voice hadn’t been threatening.
In response, David simply moved the slider again.
Tony immediately collapsed with a moan of pain and curled up, riding out the agony in his head. Several minutes later he pulled himself to a kneeling position and stared at the floor. “When?” he asked quietly, not looking up.
“The day Officer Ziva David joined the team,” David answered. “You didn’t agree with her placement. I could help you get her removed from NCIS.”
“You’re affecting my mind,” Tony said in reply, not commenting on or even thinking about the specified time.
“Not exactly,” David disagreed. “I’m simply restoring it to the capacity at which it was functioning at this point in time. The pain you’re experiencing is an unfortunate side effect.”
Tony finally looked up and into the gaze of the being before him, the unease turning to a fear too great and encompassing to be fully suppressed. “My mind has been deteriorating.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“What do you think of this time placement?” David asked instead.
“Tell me why,” Tony whispered.
“No.”
Tony swallowed against the implacable response and closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths to regather his wits and gave an answer. “It’s not that helpful. I’d still have to get rid of Shepard and I’d still be stuck with Gibbs. It’s no great advantage for me. I can’t speak to your purposes.”
“It would give me several excellent opportunities to advance my purposes,” David said with an indifferent shrug. “How about the day of the plague letter?”
The slider moved and Tony whimpered and leaned over his knees in pain, rocking back and forth, hands pulling his hair in a useless effort to affect the pain in his head. Eventually the pain faded and Tony asked again, “Why? Please, tell me why.”
“You tell me why,” David said, still implacable.
Tony looked up, mild confusion in his expression before that emotion was suppressed into calm. He thought about the situation for a moment, noticing his greater clarity of thought now than even just a few months later when Ziva joined. “The plague?” he asked uncertainly. “Oxygen deprivation from the pneumonia caused brain damage?”
“While the plague certainly contributed to the deterioration, it wasn’t due to oxygen deprivation,” David answered.
“Concussions?” Tony asked, thinking of all the time he’d hit his head while on duty at NCIS.
“No,” David denied then nodded his head toward the image. “Thoughts on this time?”
Tony sighed, aggravation rising, then leaving. “Why not just send me back to my first day?” Tony asked, annoyance leaking through the suppression.
The slider moved. Tony screamed and passed out.
---Manus Dei---
Waking wasn’t nearly as pleasant the second time around. It was abrupt and held a lingering pain and unease no longer completely covered by the artificial calm. Nevertheless, Tony pulled himself together and sat up from where he’d at least been laid out in a recovery position. Deciding staying on the floor would be the best option long term, he crossed his legs comfortably then finally looked up at the being before him. A glance at the image showed an image of his swearing in.
“What do you want from me?” Tony asked quietly.
“I can send you back to this day easily,” David said, not answering, power now obvious in his voice and eyes and pulsing through the room. “However, this would be the earliest I can send you without you actively serving me. It is the boundary of when you belong to me. Minor commitment on your part. Minor tasks to complete. Easy service to me and my goals coupled with a plain and simple re-do on your life with your current knowledge. Your circumstances, your murder at sea by seamen using the sea, provide more than enough power for this.”
“That’s not what you want,” Tony said with sudden certainty. “You want me to go back further. How far? To what purpose? What do you want from me?”
David tilted his head in acknowledgement. “If you agree to do me a little favor or two, I could have the power to move you back another six months, to when you entered your application,” David said and suited actions to words, sliding back to an image of Tony handing in his application.
Tony gasped and winced at a spike of pain but, to his confusion, that was it. “Why…?”
“NCIS did a number on you,” David replied blandly then nodded at the image. “You could apply for the Senior Field Agent position instead of Junior Agent. It should have been yours from the start given your time as an investigator and your proven leadership skills.”
As Tony had often though that himself, he simply nodded in thought. “And what would I have to do for you? Just what little favors are we talking about?”
David ignored the question and gazed at Tony. “Given a few more little favors, I could move it back a couple more months,” he said and moved the image again.
Another spike of pain shot through Tony but he managed to grit his teeth through it. He examined the image then grimaced after quickly placing the scene. “Buying the engagement ring for Wendy. That would be great to avoid.”
“If you report her, that would stand as a task for me,” David said. “I’d need more than just this one task to get you here, but it would be a good start.”
“Report her?” Tony asked, confusion sliding through him and dissipating. “For what?”
David gave him a mocking look. “Statutory rape, perhaps? Statue of limitations may have passed for her offenses against you when she seduced you while she was your music teacher in high school, but do you really think she loved you? That you weren’t just her bit of fluff on the side of her real victim at the time? A boy at the high school she taught at perhaps? The son of a retired navy man, hence why it would count as a task for me.”
Tony gaped in disbelief then disgust as the realization set in. “I didn’t…,” he gasped out, unable to continue.
“I know,” David said, sadness and compassion in his tone.
“I didn’t realize,” Tony managed as the artificial calm failed to override the disgust at himself for being enamored with a woman that would seduce a teenager. “I swear. I didn’t even think about that. I should have thought of that. I was a police officer! A detective!”
“I know,” David said again. “Calm.”
Tony slumped slightly and slowly blinked himself back to full awareness after a strong wave of calm nearly had him fall into rest. “I’ll do it,” he said slowly. “I’ll report her.”
David nodded once then jerked his head back to the image. “Further?”
Tony tilted his head in thought, still a bit out of it. He shrugged. “Okay.”
“I could send you back to any point while you were in Baltimore. Or even to the point where you chose Baltimore over New York or Boston,” David offered, slowly moving the slider back.
Tony grimaced at the immediate low-level headache. “Baltimore was fine,” he murmured, getting nervous for no reason he could place. The calm receding.
“I could also send you back to any place during your time in Philadelphia,” David said, gaze focused on Tony as he continued to slowly move the slider backwards in time.
“That’s not necessary,” Tony whispered, getting more and more anxious, uncrossing his legs and maneuvering to stand.
“Perhaps near the end of your undercover assignment to when you’re giving your final testimony. You could add those pieces you figured out later,” David said, steadily moving the slider.
“No, that’s okay. It was fine,” Tony denied, scrambling to his feet, unsteady, fear coursing through him. The pain of the increasing headache ignored.
“Perhaps near the middle when you could maybe save Frankie and ingratiate yourself further, maybe getting more and better information even faster,” David said, his voice changing, turning deep and sly.
“No. No. Stop,” Tony said, took a step towards David but unable to take his eyes from the rewinding images. Despair rising in tandem with fear and pain. “Stop.”
“Perhaps near the beginning when you didn’t quite have a handle on how to manage everyone. With what you know now, manipulating everyone and getting what you need would be easy,” David’s voice now silky soft, cajoling, knowing, full of a terrifying power.
Tony grabbed David and shook him. Despair, terror, pain overriding any possible instinctual fear of assaulting the powerful being. “Stop!,” Tony demanded, shaking David again. “Stop!”
“Or maybe I’ll just move it back two…more…months,” David said, completely unmoved physically.
“No, no, no, nonononono,” Tony begged as the slider was moved back. Tony abandoned his assault on the being and pounded on the glass holding the image of the chosen day. He screamed his pain and rage. Wailed his despair and denial. Collapsed into soul-deep sobs.
The Lord of the Sea watched and waited.
---Manus Dei---
Waking for the third time was even worse. Exponentially worse. Tony just lay on the floor, helplessly thinking over this whole experience. Over the implied offer of the god of the sea. Considering what it might mean to become Manus Dei himself. How his life would change.
“You would send me there?” Tony asked quietly. “Then?”
“Yes,” David answered. “And wake you in time.”
Tony didn’t acknowledge the clarification. “It destroyed my mind.”
“Yes.”
“Dissociation,” Tony said tonelessly. “Memory suppression.”
“Yes.”
“And it just got worse and worse over time,” Tony said, still distant and toneless. “Everything piling up until I was just a shell of myself. A caricature.”
“Yes,” David said. “On the plus side, it made you utterly fantastic at undercover.”
Tony snorted. “Like that’s any consolation to utterly losing my core personality.”
“Perhaps not,” David acknowledged. “But do not forget the good you did with your undercover skills. Your ability to pick and choose pieces of yourself to utilize for each scenario allowed you to do more, go deeper, get better results, than otherwise possible.”
“Maybe,” Tony said, believing the topic somewhat irrelevant at the moment. “I won’t be able to continue that. If I go back to then.”
“No,” David agreed. “You’ll retain the knowledge, of course, and be able to teach those skills if you desire. Perhaps do minor undercover work. But, no, your own, flexibility shall we say, in that area will be gone. It’s part of the price, even if it’s not in payment to me.”
“It’s worth it,” Tony whispered.
“And what else would it be worth?” David asked. “What would you do for me?”
Tony rolled over and looked up at the being that was now sitting in a comfortable looking and elaborately carved chair, gazing at him calmly.
“I won’t kill for you,” Tony said.
David raised an eyebrow. “Sure you would.”
“I won’t kill an innocent for you,” Tony clarified.
“I would not ask it,” David said.
Tony said nothing, though he did believe the being.
“Come sit, Tony,” David said gently and gestured towards another chair. A matching coffee table appeared with a tea set. “Let’s talk specifics of our deal. What I can do for you, which is more than just wake you early on this date. What you can do for me that would balance this help I give you. What you must do for me to account for the power needed to send you back over five years beyond my claim to you.”
Tony closed his eyes and breathed for several moments, relaxing into the renewed artificial calm that kept his sorrow and hope at bay and allowed him to think clearly. He rose slowly and stepped over to the chair, enjoying its comfort as he sat down. He poured himself some tea and nodded. “Let’s talk.”
[i] Reference https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Davy_Jones%27s_locker