NCIS 1. Chapter 1

Ziva and I argued who had to get out of the car to interview the witness. "I did it last time!" I whined childishly, not wanting to leave the warmth of my yellow mustang.

"So?" she asked incredulously.

"Oh, whatever," I said defeatedly. I opened up the car door, and exhaled tiredly as the freezing wind hit me. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and lowered my head, which had little effect against the cold. I walked away from the car quickly and looked up at the building, which was about eight stories tall with windows that reflected the sun, covering the side of the building that faced the street. It looked expensive and out of place among the other run-down warehouses in the area. I pushed through the crystal clear glass door, my eyes searching for the witness. _If there even is one _I thought irritably. The case had been peculiar. As far as NCIS had thought, there had been no witnesses to the murder. Later we received an email with an image of a young looking male with silver hair and a caption that simply stated, 'this is a witness to General Collins murder'. I was extremely suspicious of the whole thing and was even debating if coming in alone had been a bad idea. I shook my head to rid of these thoughts and strode in with confidence I did not feel. I was barely two feet pass the door when I heard a grumble from below. Cracks started to appear along the walls and snaked upwards like long fingers and the air filled with dust. The floor started to shake violently and I was thrown to the marble ground. The ceiling started coming down in large pieces and I rolled away, narrowly being missed from a particularly huge one. I felt something fall on my arm and let out a strangled yelp as sudden white hot pain erupted on my left side. Automatically I tried to retract my arm to my body but found I couldn't, and that moving caused more pain. I realized I was pinned and I finally started to realize just how dire the situation was getting. I barely had time to think _Gibbs is going to kill me_ when another part of the falling ceiling hit my head and I drifted into bliss oblivion.

**Ziva's POV-**

I wouldn't have really minded to go inside to interview the witness, but I enjoyed bickering with Tony. Additionally his car was indeed very warm and comfortable opposed to the freezing air outside. "I did it last time!" he complained.

"So?" I asked him, exasperated because I had done it the last four times before that.

"Oh, whatever," he said obviously defeated. He opened up his door and took a step outside, and I could hear a sigh come from him before he closed the door. Almost immediately after he left I started to feel uneasy. I didn't know why, and I couldn't place the feeling, but it was like a pang in my stomach. I started fidgeting with my seat belt wondering if I should go in after Tony. As soon as I made up my mind to go inside, my phone rang. "Ziva." I answered.

"Ziva, get out of there. Now." Gibbs demanded.

"Why?" I asked confused, but I was already unbuckling.

"We traced the email to a terrorist group. They're in the building," Gibbs practically growled."Are you in there?"

"No, but Tony is!" I was sprinting now and was almost at the door when the ground began to shake. Cracks appeared in the parking lot's asphalt and the building in front of me started to crumble. "TONY!" I shouted. The ceiling was coming down in large chunks and I could hear yelps originating in the building.

"What's happening?" Gibbs asked and even my acute sense of hearing could barely hear the panic edging into his voice.

"I was in the parking lot and then the ground started shaking…" my voice trailed off as I surveyed the damage in front of me, "...Tony was in there...the building collapsed." I thought for a minute then added determinedly, "I'm going in."

"No you're not." Gibbs said, "The building is unstable." But it was too late; I had already hung up. I pushed my way through the rubble shouting out Tony's name. My voice was the only sound in the building besides the groans of the structure. I stopped shouting and the silence was eerie and quite honestly terrifying. But then I heard a groan and hope exploded inside of me. I started clawing through the debris and beads of blood started to sprout from my fingers caused by many jagged edges. My hope was shattered when I found a man with blonde hair and expensive suit, but I continued to help him anyway.

**Tony's POV-**

I couldn't tell the difference between my eyes opened or closed. I was surrounded by eerie darkness. Extreme pain was everywhere and I knew I at the very least multiple bones were broken. But I knew that I should be more more worried about my struggling, ragged breaths. The pressure of the rubble and debris on my stomach and the addition of broken ribs, made breathing practically impossible. I started hacking due to the dust in the air and the coughs aggravated my body. Black dots started to dance around the edges of my vision and I knew I had to stay awake. _DiNozzo's don't pass_ out I thought. I tried to push the rubble off of me with no avail; my only outcome was a groan I couldn't suppress. The black dots were growing larger and more frequent. I tried to blink them away but they continued expanding until the darkness consumed me. The last thing I remember was Ziva calling my name. Wait, Ziva? But I couldn't stay awake or even make a sound; only lay there helplessly as I drifted in and out of half consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ziva's POV-**

I helped the man sit up and he gratefully thanked me. I nodded in response but I felt disconnected. I wasn't paying attention to him at all, only thinking about Tony. The man had a few scratches and bruises but was otherwise unscathed. He would be okay for me to leave him there, but I kept thinking about what Gibbs had said. I knew it was possible and even maybe probable that the man was a terrorist. Protocol would tell me to stay with him and handcuff him, but I really needed to find Tony. I decided to settle for simply handcuffing him and then continuing my search, but a quick search of my belt revealed I did not have my handcuffs. Then I remembered that I had given my handcuffs to Tony because he had forgotten his. _Well this just keeps getting better,_ I thought sarcastically. I considered my options and found they were extremely limited. I could stay here with him or I could take him with me looking for Tony. "Can you stand?' I asked.

"Yeah." he replied steadily.

"Okay, my friend was in here when the building collapsed. Can you help me find him?" I asked the question in a way that made it sound like a statement, and deliberately left out my suspicions of him.

"Sure."

I stuck out my hand to help him up and he grasped it with unexpected strength. He looked lightweight and gangly but was actually sturdy and rather muscular. His hands were calloused, rough, and they radiated no warmth. This raised my suspicions a bit, but I dismissed my doubt. _A man can work out, right?_ I thought. And it was a slightly chilly in the building, no doubt the heater had broken. Yet I couldn't shake that pang in my stomach that seemed to be appearing more and more often.

We started searching through the rubble and found multiple gruesome sights of people who had not survived. I found myself praying that Tony was not destined to the same fate. Part of me wanted to stop looking, knowing that the next body we could find could be his. But I pushed away those thoughts, focusing on the fact that the next survivor we find could be him.

I declared another region clear of bodies and survivors and moved on. I shouted out Tony's name and was alarmed when I heard how desperate it sounded. I glanced over to see what the other man was doing. He was calling out for survivors as well, and also pushing away some debris to the side. Suddenly I heard a quiet noise. I hushed the man and listened, but was meet only with the eerie silence. I went over to the area where I thought I had heard the sound and started digging like a maniac. Fresh blood sprouted from my fingers and trailed down my arms but I didn't even register the discomfort. _I must look insane_ I thought, but I didn't really care. I observed another pair of hands helping me and I was thankful for them. Even with my near superhuman strength some of the pieces were nearly impossible to move. I drew in a sharp breath when I realized what that could mean. If I could barely move it, how could someone breathe underneath that? My hands started to shake so badly I was having increasing trouble moving the chunks of ceiling. A single tear escaped against my will and I knew my hope was dwindling.

**Tony's POV-**

I heard movement above me, but I still wasn't able to form words. My tongue felt thick in my mouth, and my head felt like it was filled with cotton and rocks at the same time. I focused on inhaling and exhaling. _Rise then fall_ I thought. My fight for consciousness was losing and I could feel myself slipping away. I tried to focus on the pain, anything to stay awake. I knew Ziva was almost on top of me, and suddenly pressure was released of my stomach. I gratefully gasped in the air, and my lunges relaxed. I heard something else get moved and I saw my first crack of light. I had never thought I would be so happy to see something as simple as light. Knowing that Ziva would find me a let myself slip into the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is from the man's POV- **I noticed the women glance over me a couple of times through the corner of my eye. I wondered if I had been caught. _How would I be revealed to a civilian?_ I thought dismissing my worries. But then I saw a glint of something beneath her long, brown coat that reached her knees. My breaths quickened as I realized it as a badge. As soon as their speed did increase, they decreased again. I couldn't show my fear or she would know for sure. My best guess was that she was suspicious of me, but this 'Tony' was more important to her than me. _Ok you can work with this,_ I though already beginning to form a plan in my mind. I could use her obvious love of Tony against her if he was alive… But how? I could kidnap him, but I didn't have any type of weapon. I sighed inwardly at this realization, knowing I would have to get creative. I continued to dig through the seemingly endless piles of waste, wishing something to happen to rescue me of the boredom. I got my wish when I found a very sharp piece of glass that could easily pass as a knife. It took a lot of willpower not to smile at this new development. I glanced over to the women who was very preoccupied and no longer paying me any attention. I could now see her whole shiny badge towards her left on her belt, and I knew it had to be done. I silently slid the makeshift knife into my waistband careful to make sure it wouldn't cut me later on. I was soundlessly celebrating when I noticed another glance from the women, so I called out for survivors again.

Suddenly the women shushed me and I irritably complied. I hadn't heard anything, but she obviously must have. She started frantically clawing through the rubble like a lunatic and I decided it would be least suspicious if I helped her. I moved some of the larger pieces with her when she looked like she was straining, and found I struggled with many of them too, despite my hours of training. I noticed the agent was trembling enough now that she was having trouble moving even the lightweight chunks. I moved a large one that the agent attempted to help with, but did not succeed much, and then I heard a gasp. Realizing it did not come from the lady beside me I prepared myself for what I knew was coming next. The next few moments were a blur; the women removed the remaining debris revealing an unconscious man. He was in his forties, but was handsome and looked like he had a strong build. He had many lacerations and bruises covering his body and looked very vulnerable. The most concerning injuries were his arm that showed his bone, and a piece of metal sticking out of his left side. But then after a few moments I realized that his breath was coming in quick, shallow gasps then did not sound very healthy.

"Oh, Tony..." the agent whispered. The women made a move to help him sit up and I knew it was time to take action.

**Ziva's POV-**

When I saw Tony's condition my breath was stolen from me. "Oh, Tony.." I spoke with my tone hushed. He was a sorry sight, and I knew if I didn't act soon Tony would die from loss of blood or not enough oxygen. _Or whatever thousand other injuries he could have,_ I thought negatively. I moved over to him and placed my arms under his armpits. I pulled him up and leaned Tony up against the white wall that now had streaks of dirt on it. I was alarmed at how hot and clammy Tony was and I suspected at least one wound was infected. Almost immediately after I had leaned Tony up he slumped forward and the mysterious man appeared to reach out and help him sit back up. Too late I realized that he had placed a shard of glass at Tony's throat, that was already drawing beads of blood.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note- Thank you for all of the follows and thank you ****grandprincessanastasiaromanov5** **and Meilea2010** **for reviewing! ****Meilea2010****, I don't think there will be a lot of Tiva, but maybe some. I'm thinking about adding Gibbs point of view in this chapter or the following chapter, so just a heads up.**

**Tony's POV-**

I felt someone swiftly lift me up from beneath my arms, and I assumed it was Ziva. I was semi aware of what was happening around me, but I still couldn't speak. I tried to swallow and found my throat felt dry and raw, no doubt caused by the dust in the air. My head pounded wildly and there felt to be burning fireworks exploding in my chest. I had lost feeling in my arm some time ago, and though a relief from pain I knew that wasn't good.

My back was leaned gently against a rigid, cold surface that I assumed to be the wall. It felt unnerving to be so incompetent, and thought about how I would never live this down to Ziva. My body went limp against the wall as I was unable to support myself, and I felt someone catch me. But I knew this person was not Ziva because they were rough, and the hands aggravated my wounds. I would've cried out if I had been able to, but fortunately I was able to keep my dignity because I couldn't. I felt someone grab a fistful of my hair and yank up, lifting my chin up with it. Something sharp was pressed against my throat and I acknowledged that warm, sticky blood was already starting to dribble down.

**Ziva's POV-**

"What are you doing?!" I demanded the man, shocked.

"Getting out of here." He replied not missing a beat. He had a sickening grin on his face that did not meet his eyes, and it made my stomach turn. Noticing my discomfort his smile widened so it literally was going from ear to ear.

I made a move to grab my gun from it's holster, but his words interrupted me before I could actually do anything. "I wouldn't. I've got the knife remember." He wiggled the knife around as if to remind me who had the upper-hand. But I didn't back down; I hadn't followed protocol earlier and look where it had gotten me.

Recognizing I did not have intentions of backing down he removed the knife from Tony's throat. Relief flooded through me until I realized what he was doing. He lifted it a few inches it from Tony's thigh then plunged into it.

I couldn't have prevented the gasp that escaped my lips even if I had tried. The glass passed through the muscle and flesh on Tony's thigh easily, and when the man removed the glass the silver edge of a bone was revealed. I couldn't stop staring at Tony's motionless form that was now moaning out in pain. Tears started to swell up in my eyes, and everything besides Tony started to fade away. But I was anchored back to the real world when the man spoke again.

"Slide your gun over to me carefully. Remember, I don't hesitate to kill." I nodded numbly and carefully took it out of its holster; handle up. The man dumped Tony on the ground to free his hands, then retrieved the glock from my outstretched hand with the strength I had felt earlier. He tucked it in his waistband, the same place where the shard of glass had rested before. Tony's moaning had decreased until the man had dumped him. Now he was shuddering and was groaning and mumbling incoherently, and my heart ached for him. I felt useless and guilt was devouring me; he might have been fine if I had listened to my gut sooner.

The man interrupted my thoughts by grabbing Tony's white collar that was now stained with blood and yanking upwards. As soon as he had done so Tony's face contorted with pain and he let out a muffled yelp. "I'm gonna leave now, and you're not going to do anything," he stated without even a hint of emotion on his wicked face. I pursed my lips together but remained speechless; restraining myself from doing anything I would regret later. He strode confidently towards the direction where I had found him, then disappeared behind piles of the never ending waste.

"Don't try and follow me. I think you know what will happen."

**Man's POV-**

I took the man behind the higher piles of debris so that the women couldn't see the escape route I was taking. _If she couldn't see it, she couldn't follow it._ I exited through the doors that the women had entered through, and found the parking lot was in terrible condition. There were numerous cracks in the asphalt, and many cars had been destroyed beneath parts of the building that hadn't fallen straight down. But despite this, just like they had promised there was a blue van waiting with two keys resting on the passenger's seat. I dragged the man behind me to the back of the door while he was still moaning annoyingly.

"Shut up already!" There was not much effect, but I hadn't really expected any. I was more angry at myself for accepting this job offer from Jeff. I guess it wasn't much a choice; accept the offer or die. But I was tired of being a little puppet, and doing everything people tell me to do. There really wasn't much of an out to this situation, though. _Don't get distracted, just finish the job. _

I threw the half awake man in the rather tight trunk and went up to the front to look for zipties. I found some in the middle console and triumphed this small feat. I insensitively ziptied his arms together tightly, and smirked when I noticed his wrists were already turning an angry red. I proceeded to search him and was horrified to find a standard issued government glock, and a badge. No one had mentioned kidnapping a federal agent!

_It doesn't affect the job. _

_It does affect how many years you go away for if you get caught._

_Better not get caught._

_Great now you're arguing with yourself._

I sighed at my own indecisiveness and went to the driver's seat and pushed the key through the slot and turned it. The car hummed to life and my hand immediately shot out turning on the heat. I pressed on the gas pedal and for the first time in years I felt a flicker of emotion that was not hate or anger. I felt pity for Tony thinking about the things Jeff could do to the guy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note- Ok, so I see a lot of people found my changing point of view confusing. I thought that it would add to the story, but due to the many guest reviews from now on I will be adding in the point of view before it switches. Thank you for all the reviews! And if there was any questions about how the man survived and how the building collapsed; it will hopefully be in this chapter. **

**Jeff's POV- **

What was taking so long? We had given him literally everything that he could possibly need. The bomb had been placed correctly, and according to Mark and it had gone undetected. So where was Mark with the at? My other source inside the building, placed to survey Mark, had reported that Mark had been fine, excluding a few possible bruises and cuts. And my video showed him being helped out of the debris by a women. While that wasn't part of the plan he must of heard her and carefully placed a groan to not raise any suspicions. But I couldn't check to see if he had retrieved the money from the secret bank vault upstairs, because my video camera had died. _That's what you get for being paranoid and surveying the building for three weeks before you actually planned the heist._ I was getting frustrated with Mark's results, nevertheless. I might have to deal with him when he got back, or at the very least threaten him. My men had to be more efficient than this. And the guy couldn't even imagine what would happen to him if he did not have the money.

**The man (Mark) POV- **

We arrived at the warehouse late, and this caused me to worry quite a bit because Jeff hated it when I was late. But it really wasn't my fault there had been traffic or that the van did not come with a full tank of gas. He would understand that, right?

The warehouse I was pulling up to was rusty, old and abandoned. It was the building I had been reluctantly forced to call home. It always smelled like fish, and I had grown to hate the scent. A river with white rapids ran by the warehouse, and sometimes the river would overflow and flood the warehouse with water. There was still at least a inch of murky water in the basement that remained from the storm that had occurred over a week ago. _More like a mini hurricane._

I didn't recall the memory fondly for that was the day that Jeff had forced me to leave behind my family, besides my sister. This train of thought made me think of many unpleasant memories, all with the common factor of Jeff. He had made me do so many things, but I couldn't do anything about it. Not while he still had my sister anyway, I wouldn't risk hurting her. I had to blink away tears just thinking about her. She was so beautiful and innocent; I would never be able to forgive myself for getting her caught up in _my_ mess. She was only twelve, and she should be in middle school right now, not tied to a pole it another one of Jeff's warehouses. I thought about her beautiful smiled that always lit up her eyes, and her blonde and brown hair that rested on her shoulders in waves. She looked older than she was and acted that way too.

I took a deep breath and dismissed these thoughts. I replaced my soft, tear filled face with a hard and emotionless one. If Jeff thought that I was getting soft then he would fire me, and if he fired me I knew there would be no use for my sister.

I clambered out of the car unsmoothly, my legs stiff from sitting still for so long. I went to the back of the car to release the hostage, but hesitated. How would I explain this to Jeff? Jeff had made it clear that he had wanted the money, but he had to understand there was no way to have reached it. _I'm not superman. _

One time I had argued that to Jeff, to which he had replied, 'that's what you're training suppose to do.' I was becoming terrified for not have reaching Jeff's unmasked high standards. But the man could be ransomed off for the same price, if I asked the right person. _Yeah, that would work out. _I opened the trunk and found Tony was still lying there motionless. I grabbed him by his elbow and pulled him up, and after a few seconds some of the weight lessened. Tony was blinking rapidly but his eyes didn't seem to be able to focus on anything. He wasn't putting any weight on the leg I had stabbed, and he seemed to be in severe pain.

"Walk faster." And to his credit he did actually appear to try to. But notice the 'try' in that statement. He attempted to move his injured left leg for the first time and an audible gasp came from his lips. He went limp in my arms for a few agonizingly long moments unable to support any of his own weight. But after he seemed to regain his balance and dignity and was able to move mostly on his own and at a reasonable pace.

I pushed open the single brown door and stepped inside nervously, but not before I took a deep breath.

**Tony's POV-**

I woke up a few times in pain when my clumsy driver would hit a pothole or bump. I didn't really remember what happened, only bits and pieces. I remembered a building collapsing on me, extreme pain, and that was it. I knew I had a broken arm and something was definitely wrong with my thigh. But I was more worried about my breaths coming in quickly, but yet not fulfilling my need for air. I experimented with holding my breath and found that released quite a bit a pain, but I wasn't stupid and I knew I needed to breath. I concluded that broken ribs were responsible for the pain in my chest. The darkness attempted to grasp me again, and weakly I allowed myself to slip into the painless sleep.

I awoke groggily again to find someone holding me up by my elbow. I immediately tried to regain my dignity by claiming back some of my own weight. I tried to see what was in front of me but found my eyesight was blurry at the very best. I tried to blink away the blurriness and black dots that were dancing at the edge of my eyesight again, but I didn't have much success. I didn't dare and try to put any weight on my left leg because though I wasn't in pain, something in the back of my mind warned me I would be if I attempted to.

"Walk faster," my captor commanded me. That's when I decided to make the brilliant decision of putting pressure on my opposite leg. A gasp made it's way through my chapped lips, and there wasn't much I could do from halting it. Any thought of supporting myself was not only lost, but also unfathomable for a few moments. _Breath through the pain, _I reminded myself of the doctor's words from my last concussion visit. This was much worse than any concussion, but nevertheless I took a deep breath. After multiple of these the pain started to disperse to more bearable levels, and I regained my balance and control over my body.

I shuffled forward as fast as I could manage; which was not surprisingly not very fast. The man still gripped my elbow tightly, but he no longer glanced over at me and I assumed he was confident I was not going anywhere. _Heck, I'm confident I'm not going anywhere. _

When we finally reached the destination I had struggled so much to arrive to, the man inhaled deeply. The door was brown and simple, and the only other color on it was the darker shades of brown that belonged to mud and dirt. He pushed through it after a hesitation, as if he didn't want to know what he would behind it. I found myself not wanting to either, and that shocked my normally tough self. But I refused to let that get to me.

When we entered my nose attacked with the scent of fish. I scrunched up my face and the man smirked when he noticed.

"I wish I could say it gets better." he offered. He looked like he was going to say something else, but at that moment a furious looking man stormed in.

"Why are you so late, Mark?!" My captor, Mark, cringed knowing it was true.

"Jeff, you didn't give me enough gas.." he spoke with his voice barely above a whisper. I noticed Jeff turn his glare to me. Did I know Jeff? He seemed familiar, something about his unnerving grey eyes. Or his large muscular build… Before I could place his face he started fuming.

"Why do you have Agent DiNozzo with you?!" his face was now as red as the blood smeared across my entire shirt. Then it snapped into place, I had put him away for ten years for murders of three petty officers. The case had probably been around a couple years ago, he definitely should not be out yet. I had received one or two death threats from him, but I had dismissed them easily. _I have the absolute worst luck ever. _

"I… I couldn't…" Mark was stuttering uncontrollably and this seemed to annoy Jeff. Jeff sighed then approached me, muttering they would discuss it later. He studied me for a few minutes and I returned his stare, despite the pain it took to even lift my head. He must of tired of this because he pulled a gun from the back of his waistband and brought it done on the side of my head with all his strength. _That's gonna leave a mark._ But thankfully I lost my clutch on consciousness and welcomed the dark with open arms.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note- Thank you for the follows and reviews! And guys there is really not going to be any Tiva in this. And thank you LAG0802** **for your advice. I will change the point of view less, but I'm going to keep it first person.**

**Tony's POV-** When I opened my eyes I instantly squeezed them shut again, due to the bright light slipping through the open door. My concussion was _not_ making this easy on me. I opened my eyes again but this time cautiously, preparing myself for the pounding in my head. As expected it felt as if someone was playing a drum in my skull, but this time I was able to keep my eyes open.

I assessed the room I was in and found it to be barren and unpleasant. The room was dark except from bright light escaping through the foot of which the door was open. The cracked cement floor I was laying on was icy beneath me, and it seemingly sucked away my energy. The walls were painted a dark grey, making the unfurnished space gloomy. I inched my way forward to examine why the door was open but found I was incapable of movement. No matter how hard I tried, not a single muscle would move more than half an inch. I started to panic but I soothed myself so I wouldn't go into shock. _They must have just given you a muscle relaxant, _the detective in me deduced.

Before I had even remotely came close to forming a plan the door opened. In came three hooded figures, but none of them could be Jeff because they lacked the bulkiness.

"Get him up," ordered the tallest one. I made a mental note to not underestimate the shortest one, for he easily bent down and scooped my heavy form up by himself. He held me up from the back of my collar, and the position caused me to have an extremely arduous time breathing.

"Take him to Jeff," the tall man stated. The short one nodded briskly and dragged me out of the room, but the others stayed in the room speaking to each other. I strained to hear the words but they disappeared as I got farther away. I was dragged down a hallway painted the the color as the room I was in, and not lighted much better too. I tried to observe the turns we were taking already planning ahead to escaping, but after two right and three left turns I abandoned the idea. My concussion was making any train of thought impossible, not to mention the warehouse I was in was practically a maze.

After a couple more turns, a few which were wrong, the man must have finally found his destination because he opened a door and threw me in. I rolled a couple times before coming to a stop, once again marveling how strong the man had been. The new room I was in was small, maybe only five feet long and wide. The floor was wood but not any warmer than the previous concrete. This time though, there was no light source besides the crack from beneath the door. I couldn't tell the colors of the walls, but I assumed it was the same color as the rest of the warehouse.

I was not given much time to collect myself before the door was thrown open. In stepped Jeff and I rolled my eyes in disgust. "There you are, looking as lovely as ever," I quipped with a false smile.

"I wish I could say the same for you," he replied matching my fake grin. He flicked a light switch and light immediately filled the room. The sudden change of light increased the thrumming in my head, but I managed to keep my eyes open at a squint.

"Why did the building collapse?" I asked breaking the blanket of silence that covered the room.

"Put a bomb there. It has effects that are similar to an earthquake. Mark was _supposed _to get the money from the upstairs vault." I must have looked surprised because he said, "which I suppose you didn't know about." I didn't know why he was explaining himself to me, but I figured that it wasn't a hopeful sign. That usually means I was going to die, and probably soon at that. _Gibbs will find you before that, _I reassured myself.

"We didn't even want a hostage," the man continued. "But Mark said you could be worth the same amount of money that we were going to steal from the vault, that true?" He looked at me waiting for a response, but I did not satisfy him with one. He swiftly crossed the room in long strides and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I asked you a question," he spoke through clenched teeth.

"No," I responded, only to see the look on his face when he realized he wasn't going to get his precious money. He let go of my chin and I saw his face, his features were tightened in anger and he turned a light shade of red. I relished in the fact that I had caused his fury, and I knew replying had been worth it.

"And why is that?" he demanded his voice menacingly quiet.

"For starters, NCIS won't negotiate with you. Even if they did they probably don't care enough. Then, if you planned to ask ransom from my father, he wouldn't care. And even if he did, there still is the problem of him being broke. No one else cares so, looks like your Mark didn't think this one through. You know what they say, if you want something done, you have to do it yourself." I threw him another wide grin but said no more. I was already breaking NCIS protocol by speaking to him, and I knew that provoking him would be unbelievable to some other agents.

"Well, I won't make that mistake again," he reassured me. "Besides I wouldn't bother yourself with it; you won't be alive to care." I didn't allow that comment get to me, and I chose to simply ignore it.

"How did you know Mark would get out?" I asked curiosity still growing inside me.

"He was in an area where he couldn't really be hurt. Also he was wearing a protective vest under his shirt, and we told him to duck underneath the desk. Fat lot of good it did us." He looked over at me and he pulled back his leg. He let out his kick, and it caught me in my already broken or cracked right ribs. I bit my bottom lip to not cry out, but I still inhaled sharply. The deep breath caused me lots of pain, but I chose to ignore it.

"No more questions."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, so apparently I forgot my disclaimer for six chapters! Anyway, here it is… **

**I do not own NCIS, I believe Jeff Eastin does.**

**Gibbs POV- **"McGee, any traces on the phones yet?"

It had been forty minutes since Ziva had hung up, and they still had no leads. Guilt was biting away my conscious, I had forgotten to ask Ziva the address of the building she and Tony were going to. Obviously there had been reports of a building collapsing, which we assumed to be the place Ziva was talking about, but I couldn't go myself because Vance refused to tell me the address. Even all the local LEOs and firefighters on the scene had their mouths shut, per Vance's instructions. I was furious at the man for preventing me from helping my team, but part of me knew that some of my anger was unreasonable. We were definitely emotionally involved, and McGee was probably more help here than anywhere else, tracing Ziva's and Tony's phones. But I, on the other hand was absolutely of no help here, and I hated sitting here useless.

"Not yet, boss. Our wifi is down." He said this slowly and carefully, probably scared of angering me further. I didn't respond, but I sighed and got up impatiently for another cup of coffee. Great now another thing my fault; I had forgotten to call someone in to fix our wifi problems.

I was already in the elevator with the doors closing when my cell phone shrill ring startled me. "Gibbs," I answered.

"Ok, we thought we should give you an update. We found Ziva but not Tony, and she says she needs to talk to you immediately. She is refusing medical attention, and it exactly cooperating when we ask her for information," informed a voice I recognized as one of the police officers I had talked to earlier. I admired how he got to the point, maybe later I'll recommend him to the director. He didn't bother trying to convince me stuff that wasn't a fact, like my agents were going to be okay.

"Can you give her the phone?"

Yeah sure, one sec." There was rustling as the phone passed hands, then Ziva's voice.

"Hello?" Ziva asked, almost sounding skeptical.

"What happened?"

I could almost visualize Ziva's tension relieving at my voice. She sighed in relief then said,"I went in after Tony. I found a survivor and brought him with me, thought that was the safest thing to do. I'm sorry boss, I know I broke protocol." she spoke hurriedly and I got the feeling there was something she wasn't telling me.

"Ziva, it's fine. What are you not saying?" I asked her impatiently.

"After we found Tony he…" she faltered, probably to collect herself before continuing. This made me nervous; Ziva wasn't scared to say anything. "The man must of been the terrorist, and he must of made me. He kidnapped Tony, boss."

The air seemed to catch in my lungs, and I had to force myself to exhale. Worry started to build in my stomach, all directed at Tony. I had no idea why Tony always got into these situations, Abby's horrible luck theory was starting to make more and more sense. I forced my emotions out of my voice before I spoke again.

"How long ago was this?"

"Twenty minutes about."

"How was Tony's condition?"

"Bad." I didn't press her, knowing I didn't want to know all the details.

"Where are you?"

"Uh, I'm on the corner of St James. Its five blocks over from McGalin park.

"Can you describe the kidnapper?"

"Yeah. He had short blonde hair, and he was probably 6'1. He was wearing a really expensive suit, and he was muscular but thin. Oh, and he had the edge of a tattoo sticking out beneath the cuff of his shirt." she described quickly. I nodded even though she couldn't see me, pondering what she had said.

"There is a sketch artist here. Want me to talk to them?" she asked.

"Yeah." Our conversation was interrupted when McGee shouted, "I've got it!"

"Bye Ziva," I said before hanging up; not waiting for a reply.

"Where is Tony?" I demanded him.

"He is in a warehouse district…" he paused as he studied his screen. "I can't find an address, but I can take you there." A small part of me wondered if he was lying so he could help Tony. He probably did know I was planning on not allowing him to come, Tony would never be able to forgive himself if McGee got hurt. Though I doubt McGee would be able to lie to me very well if he tried. I decided whether or not he was lying he could come, he would probably be a valuable asset anyway- though I would never tell him that.

"Okay," I told him, tossing him the keys. McGee fumbled with them for a moment, and he almost dropped them. Under different circumstances I would have smirked, but I knew it was his concern for him partner that caused him to be antsy. _DiNozzo would have made fun of him. _For some reason my throat seemed to clog up, and I suddenly didn't trust my voice. I could almost hear DiNozzo say 'I knew you cared.'

"Coming, boss?" I looked up and realized McGee was already in the elevator, holding the door open with his forearm. I nodded briskly still unsure of how my voice would function. I took quick strides to make up the time lost in thought, and once inside McGee gave me a funny look. I glared at him, my gaze daring him to say something. He appeared to find the floor very interesting all of a sudden, and red creeped onto his pale face. I knew I was being hard on him, but he was a very easy target for my anger. I was pondering of giving him a head slap so he would understand I wasn't serious, but the shrill noise of my cell phone's ring tone interrupted me before I could do anything. I checked to see who it was, but the number was unknown. I dubiously accepted it without introducing myself.

"If you want your agent back then leave four million under the first bench of McGalin Park." A gruff voice pronounced.

I motioned for McGee to trace the call before answering. "No."

"No?" He repeated my answer and I could almost see the smirk on his face. "Well, I would check your computer before you make that decision. Especially since your agents life depends on it." After I had told McGee to find where the call was coming from he must have pressed the button to take us back to our floor, because the doors dinged open, revealing the bullpen. McGee ran to his computer and he started typing furiously, and I could barely see his fingers fly across the keyboard. I jogged over to my own computer, unsure of what to expect to be on my computer. What I surprised me enough that my wall that blocked out my emotion broke down. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched Tony sitting in a chair. There was a cut on the side of his forehead that was bleeding profusely, and it had no doubt caused a concussion. This was proved by the dazed and confused look he was giving the camera. He was bound tightly and probably uncomfortably, with tight ropes around his stomach, wrists and ankles. He was covered in cuts and bruises in a colorful assortment of blue, black, and green. What was probably the most concerning was the wound that looked to be a stab on his upper left thigh. Dried blood covered the area around it, and fresh blood still leaked from it. And if I squinted it looked like Tony was struggling to breath, but I would have to ask Ducky to examine the video.

The room DiNozzo was in was lighted brilliantly and the floor and ceiling was a dazzling white, except the streaks of blood that must have come from dragging him in there.

"Leave him alone!" I half growled and half shouted.

"Looks like someone has a weak spot." He appeared on the screen before he spoke, but his face was covered and the only thing I could see was his back. He neared my senior agent and my stomach turned.

"Stay away from him."

"Or what?" he taunted. He took that moment to punch DiNozzo in the stomach, near the already broken ribs, and he doubled over as far as his restraints would let him. The only other indication that Tony gave to show he registered the pain was a low grunt.

"Like I said. Four million." He pressed something concealed inside of his pocket, and the screen turned black- much like how my heart was now feeling.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews, it means a lot! Disclaimer from the previous chapter still applies. **

**Gibbs POV-** My phone still continued to beep constantly and quietly, signaling that Tony's captor had hung up. But somehow I felt if I hung up that I would be giving up on Tony. And I would _not_ give up on him until we found him. _Even if its just his body, _I part of me thought despondently.

I was saved from my discouraged thoughts when McGee spoke up for the first time since he hung up. "Ok so lets go over the facts." He seemed to be talking to himself just as much as he was talking to me. "Tony is in a known location. We could storm the place, but that leaves Tony vulnerable. Most likely the captors would probably just try and leave with Tony, and trigger happy SWAT would probably shoot him. They could easily miss and hit Tony, or the man could retaliate and kill Tony. We could come up with the money, but there is no way NCIS would pay four dollars, much less four million. Not very good options," he concluded. I nodded in my agreement of his assessment but didn't add anything. I was proud of how he was handling everything; I would have to tell Vance later.

_Not like you're busy now_. And it was true. Now that McGee didn't have to trace any phones neither of us were doing anything. I wasn't worried about Vance's anger if we went to see Ziva, but I would rather focus on helping Tony. Besides Ziva could easily take care of herself, and I trusted the police force enough to handle it. If Ziva found anything useful she could easily call me too.

That left McGee and I to work with our limited options. I had momentarily considered telling the director about Tony's predicament, but I had quickly dismissed the idea. The only outcome would probably be me being entirely removed from the case.

As the younger man had previously stated our best option was probably to collect the money, if not to rescue Tony than to buy time. But unless McGee had four million in his back pocket than we were back to where we started. I was definitely not going to take the risk of using SWAT either. "How much do you have?" I asked knowing that he would need no more context.

"Not enough." He said with his face bent gravely down at his desk. "Should I call Tony's dad?"

"No, not yet." I answered because I knew the man wouldn't care much, he would only make the situation worse.

"Why?" He questioned looking up with curiosity filling his wide eyes. I didn't respond but my glare most of spoke volumes; his eyes immediately found his desk top again. I decided that it was time to talk to Abby. No one had told her what happened; I had been hoping that Tony would come out unscathed and he could explain to her. Now she would be furious she had been kept out of the loop, but she deserved to know. To deal with the extra energy coming from the coffee I took the stairs rather than the elevator, only passing one person on my way down. When I reached Abby's lab I quietly snuck past her to the radio that was sitting on the far counter of the room. It was currently blaring music on full volume that could easily turn someone deaf. I twisted the knob almost all the way down, and the music turned became a bearable level.

"Hey!" Abbs complained. "Don't mess with my music mister. And what are you doing down here early? I don't have anything on the Collins case yet."

Before she could go on a rant about how I was losing my touch I placed a Caf-Pow! on her desk to silence her. With the anticipated effect she snatched it up and took large gulps greedily. "Abbs, there's something important I need to tell you."

"Something is wrong with Tony?" She guessed.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Something bad is always happening to Tony," she replied with her eyes filled with worry. "It's his head isn't it?" At that remark I couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"He was in a building when it collapsed. A terrorist found him and kidnapped him." Thinking of the cut Tony had on his forehead from the earlier clip I added, "Yes, tony did manage to hurt his head."

"I knew it!" Abby exclaimed. Her eyes were starting to fill with tears and leaned over and gently kissed her forehead.

"He'll be okay, Abbs." I comforted her talking into her hair.

"How do you know?" She asked her voice choked and barely above a whisper.

"Because he doesn't have my permission to get hurt," I reassured her with a smile tugging at my lips. I embraced her for a few moments, and then excused myself. Mascara was running down her face but I still was impressed by how she had taken it.

My next stop was Ducky. McGee had recorded the video and I wanted Ducky to see it and point out any injuries I may have missed. I took the elevator this time; my interaction with Abby leaving my tired. When I arrived Ducky was doing the autopsy on General Collins.

"I must admit I am not quite ready for you, Jethro." He said with his accent.

"I'm here for something else, Duck. Tony was in a building when it collapsed and then got abducted. We got a video, can you give his condition?" I skipped to the main point and the elder man could not hide his shock and surprised very well, but he still nodded. I handed him 'stick' that McGee had called a flash drive; hoping that Ducky knew more what to do with it than me. Duck retrieved it and pushed it into a hole in the side of the computer. The screen burst to life, revealing the clip of Tony sitting in the chair. It didn't have audio because the conversation had been on the phone, but I figured that Ducky didn't need it to evaluate the extent of the injuries. Ducky leaned in and squinted at the screen, I would guess to look at the rise and fall of Tony's chest. The video played itself out and I turned away when the man punched Tony in stomach. No need to re-watch that and re-stir those dark the screen turned black Palmer cleared his throat, which was the first noise he had made since I had arrived.

"Well, I think it is safe to assume Tony has a mild to severe concussion. We should definitely be worried about blood loss and the wound on his thigh. He has broken ribs that I fear have bruised or punctured the lungs. I would say that he has thirty six hours before he _has_ to be in a hospital." Duck said with his voice sounding disconnected. Palmer nodded but apparently had nothing to add. I suddenly realized why Tony's captors hadn't given me a time frame to drop of the money. They knew he didn't have that long, and that disgusted me. Deciding to ponder the new revelation later I told Duck thanks before heading back to my own floor.

I sat at my desk and rubbed my face, unsure of what to do next. Now that I had a time limit more stress was building and I wasn't entirely sure of what to do with it. I had always promised myself that I would not get emotionally attached to my team, but that rule had been broken when I first met DiNozzo. And then Kate had came. And then McGee and then Ziva. Now it was much too late to turn back, now we were a family. Now my team member was in danger and I wasn't sure how to handle it.

My cell phone burst to life playing an obnoxious ringtone that I continued to forget to change. I battled between throwing the phone and answering it for a long time, but seeing as how it did not halt in its annoying song I decided it could be important.

"Gibbs."

"Boss, can you pick me up on Oak street in five?" The words were slurred and the voice was hoarse but it still very recognizable.

"DiNozzo?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for all of the follows and reviews, they are very appreciated! And as always the disclaimer for the previous chapters still apply.**

**Tony POV-** After Jeff punched me everyone left except for a single goon who took me back to my original room, or a room that looked very similar. They didn't bother to lock me up in anyway, and I praised this. I could work with this. When I had first woken up I had noticed that they had taken my gun, badge, or anything on me that might even be able to be classified as a weapon or something that could help me escape. It was obvious they had been thorough but I had not had enough alone time and brainpower to check to see if they had taken my knife. It was hidden well, in my belt buckle the way Gibbs had showed me. With slow and shaky movements my hands made their way to my belt. It took much more effort to unbuckle it then it should have but my effort was rewarded, because there lay my knife glistening in the dim light. I let a smile make its way across my face and I was overcome with joy. Sadly I was brought back to reality when I realized I was yet to have any type of plan. I was not in any condition to attack anyone one, and I was sure I could not walk at a normal pace. I might be able to attempt a painful hobble but that was depending on the fact I could find my way out of this place. _Not place, maze_, I corrected myself. I sighed at my limited options but I decided I had to try something because I would _not _be found just sitting around if Gibbs came to get me. _When_ _Gibbs comes to get you,_ I corrected myself again to think positively.

Ok, so first I should attempt to open the door that was now closed since the relaxant had worn off. That would require movement, so I had to decide which injuries I could jar and it hurt the least. I tried to crawl forward on my more or less uninjured arm and scraped up leg. The motion was awkward at best and extremely inefficient. After a couple of minutes I had crossed the distance to the door and I sat down heavily, taking deep breaths that smelled of fish. When I mustered up the strength I wiggled the knob of the door to get a feel of how many pins I should expect in the lock. It sounded sturdy but not fancy so I guessed there to be around six, and even without my current condition it could take me up to ten minutes to crack it. Adding in my state, lack of tools, and hard circumstances to my estimate bumped it up to around twenty minutes. I could only hope I had that much time before anyone disturbed me.

I got started and the grueling work and fatigue soon passed over me. My movements were getting slower and my breathing quicker and shallower. The minutes seem to blur together and slow down at the same time, and I faintly wondered if I had finally lost it. But even with my doubts of sanity I continued on pure determination and stubbornness.

Finally, after I heard the sixth click, the door swung open revealing the never ending hallways. I hadn't thought far ahead enough to wonder how I was going to find my way out. I decided my best choice was to wander until I found something that could help me, which _definitely _sounded like a foolproof plan to me. I memorized the turns I was taking, a right, then a left, right, right, left. my pace was agonizingly slow and even the slightest movement hurt me. My uninjured arm forearm was pressed against the dirty wall for support, and I did a little half jump to substitute for a step.

I don't know how long I continued on with my plan, for there was no windows or clocks. There wasn't anything really at all for that matter. There was no doors I had stumbled upon yet, and there was no furnishing anywhere. I reminded myself that it was a warehouse, and it wasn't strange for it to be barren, but the emptiness still sent a shiver down my spine.

I felt like I had been scrambling for months when I found my first door. My heart immediately raised in me chest, full of hope. I pressed my ear to the sea green peeling paint praying I would hear no noise. My miracle was granted when the same unsettling silence came through the thin wood. I got to work on the lock, and I was thankful to find this one was only five pins. Stimulating my mind had rid of some of the shakiness in my hands, and it only took me approximately ten minutes for the door to open. I entered tentatively; despite the fact there had been no sounds emanating from the room I was still cautious of anyone inside.

My heart dropped to the bottom of my stomach when I saw the contents of the room, or rather the lack of. Just as everything else I had seen so far, the room was empty. It looked like it could pass for a living room with its brown oak floors, and grey walls that, for once, did not seem to be repainted for a refreshing change. There was even a small window in the top right hand corner. It was much too tiny to fit much more than my head, but it allowed me to discern that it was in fact evening. The room had a couple corners and could be considered irregularly shaped, and it was rather small, only six feet by six. I scoped out all of the crannies making sure there was nothing to miss and I was surprised at what I found in my last one. There leaned a ancient flip phone covered in a few layers of dust, and I immediately bent down to pick it up. I flipped it over in my hands a few times in order to examine it, but it looked perfectly normal. I opened it and was surprised to see it was not dead, though it had a dangerously low percentage. I dialed Gibbs, and my fingers pressed the buttons quickly from the numerous times I had punched them in. The phone ringed several times and I prayed Gibbs would pick up. _Come on Boss! _I was persistent and allowed the cell to continue on. Finally, my determination paid off when Gibbs answered.

"Gibbs." I nearly cheered aloud as relief flooded through me like a dam breaking. I had never associated so much joy with Gibbs before.

"Boss, can you pick me up on Oak street in five?" After I asked I noticed how scratchy and pathetic my voice sounded, as I was currently unable to prevent my state from leaking into my voice.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked with so much shock that I almost couldn't contain laughter.

"No, I'm an unicorn from outer space." I replied with my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I can pick you up in eight minutes, I think." I noted that he had ignored my comment which meant he had been more worried about me that I had originally thought. "You ok?"

I debated between the many answers I could give. Was I ok? No, not really. But lying to Gibbs was a dangerous thing, and I definitely did not want to anger the beast.

"Ok, I'll try and be out there in eight minutes." Avoidance was always a good route.

"Didn't answer me question, Tony."

"You should bring back-up."

"I ain't stupid, DiNozzo."

"Please tell SWAT not to shoot me. And I have to go." I was only half kidding about SWAT not killing me, 'cause boy those guys are trigger happy.

"Someone there?"

"No, but this place is sort of a maze. I'll need the time to find my way out. I might need more time than that, so if I'm not out go into the third warehouse to your left."

"Tony, can you stay on the line?"

"Uh, sure, but I have to put the phone in my pocket. I need both hands to walk. And the phone has low battery so I doubt this will last more than three minutes, tops."

"Ok," Gibbs confirmed my plan.

"Here goes nothing," I ended our conversation with a grunt


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you so much for all of the follows! As always please read and review! Same disclaimer from previous chapters too.**

**Gibbs POV- **After Tony explained his plan the conversation ended. I quickly called back-up and they agreed to meet me at Oak Street.

"Come on, McGee!" I ordered sternly and he jumped up, grabbing his gear. He had been staring at me for the past couple minutes after I had said the word DiNozzo in my conversation, but I hadn't told him anything. He hadn't dared to ask me anything, but it didn't take an investigator to know that he wanted to. I nodded my head to the elevator and McGee understood my unspoken point, so we both broke into a run for it. I knocked down a probie half way there, and the many files she had been carrying went flying. Papers fluttered around her and she squeaked in annoyance and embarrassment. I didn't bother with any type of apology or help; she should have known to stay the heck out of my way when my agent was missing. I heard Tim mutter a quick sorry to her, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. We didn't have time for this, or more accurately _Tony _didn't have the time for this.

McGee must of sensed my frustration, because he stepped onto the elevator without doing or saying anything else. I stabbed the ground floor button impatiently and the doors slowly slid close. Everything seemed to bring on my anger, and my vision started to turn red. The slow doors made me mad, the probie, McGee, this whole dang situation made me furious. Before I could control or rationalize myself I lashed out and punched the wall. Even before I had brought my hand back to my side it began to throb painfully. McGee gave me a look of shock, but it only lasted for a minute because the door opened at its slow pace once again.

"We'll take your car." I told McGee, not leaving any room for protest. My own car was old, and no matter how hard I pushed, it could not drive very fast. It also needed to be used rather constantly or it would not work, and I had stayed the night at headquarters so it had not been used since the previous morning.

Thankfully McGee did not force me to explain myself, instead leading me to his car. Tim didn't need to ask to know I would be the one driving, he knew me much too well for that. I hopped into the front seat and turned on the car. The engine roared to life, and I realized the car would go fast. I put the Porsche in drive then pressed the accelerator as far down as I could. The silver vehicle fled the parking lot the street. Honks followed in our wake, but I didn't care whatsoever. I weaved in and out through traffic, and my turns were wide. _I guess I don't need to worry about roadside bombs,_ I thought thinking about Ziva's advice. In record time, five minutes, I was at Oak Street. There was dreary warehouses lining the road and I felt my heart drop with worry for Tony. How DARE these people take my agent and bring him here! For the second time today I found my vision coated with crimson.

I looked up and down the road but found no sign of Tony. My pulse quickened to an unhealthy pace, but I dismissed it. The only thing that mattered at the moment was my senior field agent.

"We're going in," I informed McGee.

"Boss, shouldn't we wait for back-up?" His eyes were full of worry, and I could tell he wanted to go in but at the same time wanted to follow protocol. I appreciated his loyalness to his job, but we had to go in. At least that was my gut was desperately trying to tell me.

"McGee, we really need to go in." My voice was slightly lighter and softer; patience usually worked well with Tim. McGee looked conflicted for a moment, but then he gave a curt nod. "You take the back, I've got front." I ordered him and he complied. He jogged around the side with his gun drawn and pointed downwards. I pressed my side to the front door's frame, silently counting. One, two, three! I kicked open the door and it fell off half of its hinges.

"Tony!" I called out, but I did not receive a response. I moved farther from the door and I found the halls twisted many times. I realized with a sick feeling that this place was a maze. I made a disgusted face but I didn't dwell on, I'd be wasting precious time.

I pulled out my phone to dial McGee and tell him to write down his turns, but then I realized I still had Tony on the line. I had almost completely forgot about him, and I hurriedly pushed the phone to my ear to make sure Tony was still breathing. I let out a sigh of relief when I heard it, though I chose to ignore that it was coming in quick gasps and the constant groans. "Tony, are you still inside the building?"

"Yeah. Um, Boss, I can't really walk at the moment." He sounded so embarrassed that I actually felt bad for him. But more than that, I was concerned on why my senior field agent was not capable of walking.

"What's wrong DiNozzo?"

"Do you want me to just pick one thing?" I rolled my eyes but smiled. A sarcastic Tony was not a dying Tony.

"Why can't you walk?"

"Got stabbed," he answered casually, as if he was just ordering dinner.

"You didn't think to mention this before?"

"Didn't come up." I sighed and rubbed my hand over my face. This was losing battle.

"Do you know where you are?"

"I'm ninety percent sure I'm on planet Earth, but I'm not sure." I took that as a replacement of a no.

"No idea where you are in the warehouse?"

"I took a right, left, right, right, left, left, then a right to where I am. But that was just from the room I woke up in. And I'm pretty sure I have a concussion so I could have messed up." I smiled probably of my agent. Even with a concussed mind he could still remember all of those turns. I knew he would have to have remembered them all because the men had taken Tony's phone, and Tony didn't carry around an "old fashioned" notepad. Thankfully I did, and I jotted down the way on the last page of my notebook.

"Do you know how to get to the room from the front door?"

"Nah, I was only half conscious when they took me in. Sorry... Wait no I'm not. I know, rule six, boss." I started to notice that Tony was slurring his words largely and I wondered just how bad was his concussion.

"Tony, I'm gonna put the phone away. Yell if you need me."

" 'kay."

I slid the phone into my jeans and began to look around. I wrote down every turn I took on my notebook and the page filled quickly, and then it turned into pages.

After a hour something changed in the hallways; they were lighter and the paint was less peeling. I saw a flash of white down the hallway, and I immediately sprinted to it. I had never in my life been happier to see a door, exceptionally such a rusty one. But before I had the chance to open it, a shout came from my phone.

"Tony, are you okay?" I demanded.

"No. Boss, I think someone is coming," his voice was a whisper and some of his fear leaked into his voice.

"Stay put. I'll find you."

I decided my best chance was to assume the door lead into the room DiNozzo woke up in. I flipped to the last page and followed the directions in a fast sprint. Around eight minutes later I found the place where I assumed Tony had been sitting. There was a large puddle of blood on the wooden floor, and there was even more smeared against the wall. I felt my heart drop with my despair, and I wasn't quite sure how to handle the sudden burst of emotion.

"Boss," a raspy voice called out from around the corner. I turned on my heel and hurried over, to see a form leaning against a wall. I felt my breath catch as I realized it was Tony beneath all of the red liquid.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you so much for the reviews! Please continue posting them! I've found out I really enjoy the sarcastic arguments between Gibbs and Tony, so there should be plenty. Also as always the disclaimer still applies. I do not own NCIS.**

**Gibbs POV- **He looked worse in person than he did in the video. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and I doubt you could find a single spot of skin that did not have red, blue, green, or purple covering it. I bent down to examine him closer, and he seemed to barely be able to take a breath. He was wheezing, and his eyelids covered half of his startling green eyes. I laid my hand on his shoulder, hopefully to provide support. He groaned and pressed closer to my cool hand, and I realized Tony was running a dangerously high fever. _Infection,_ I thought immediately.

I knew I should help him, and soon, but the trouble was choosing which one of the thousands of cuts had been the origin of it. _Better start big. _I moved over to his leg and pulled out my pocket knife that was tucked in my belt. I cut away the jean material that surrounded the stab area and I did not like what I saw, though it did not surprised me much. The cut was dangerous and very deep, no wonder he hadn't been able to walk on it. It shocked me how he had even been able to move much at all.

"Boss, the guys I heard are still close. You need to go and get back-up. It sounded like at least eight, and all of the armed." I remembered Tony was conscious and I forced my eyes away from his leg to face him. His face was much paler than I assumed to be normal and it made me queasy. And I didn't get queasy about much of anything.

"I can help you out of here." I told him with my voice flat and void of emotion. Tony smiled a humorless smile as we both knew the flaws in the plan. There was absolutely no way they could find there way out of there in time, even if we had both been in pristine health. Dragging Tony would slow me down considerably.

"We both know that's not very smart."

"Too bad."

"Boss-"

"No, Tony."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" Protested Tony.

"I am not leaving you here." Tony's shoulders slumped in defeat and exhaustion.

"Fine. Can I have you spare?" I handed him the gun and he nodded his thanks."So, what next? Do we just wait here?"

"I have plan."

"Well, I figured that. Your _Gibbs._ Of course you do. I was wondering if you would let me onto your little secret."

"You'll figure it out." He'd figure it out as soon as I did, and Tony sighed in what I assumed to be exasperation.

"You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

"Maybe you should listen."

"Maybe you should listen when people tell you that you talk too much."

"Just trying to provide a little humor."

"Is now really the right time for humor?"

"There is no time that isn't the right time for humor."

"I think I just found what you call an exception." Before Tony could respond with a snarky comeback I heard shouts that were too close for comfort. Then, within two seconds, the lights flickered. They flickered again, and then again, and then the bulbs went dark. I realized they had turned of the power and we would die soon. They would either find us, or we would freeze considering how cold the hallways had been even heated. Our options were not pleasant to say the least.

"Shhhhh! Boss, do you hear that?"

"No."

"That is the sound of our plan going out the window." He must of inferred this from my troubled and grim expression.

"Always Plan B."

"I'm pretty sure that one is going to get us killed."

"How would you know?"

"I don't, but I know you. If plan A fails we're doomed."

"My plans are perfect until plan Z." I was talking much more than I was comfortable with, but it seemed to calm down Tony. Also I needed him to stay awake if we were to get out of this horrid place.

"I doubt you even had a plan A." Dang it. I was caught.

"Did too."

"Did not." Before the bickering could drag on beams of light started to bounce of the walls. The voices I had heard earlier were now much louder, and I knew that in one turn they would nearly be on top of us. I loaded my gun and Tony mimicked my actions, and then we both pushed ourselves to the next corner away from them. We could still get a slight advantage if we used the element of surprise on them when they no doubt checked to make sure the blood was Tony's. The steady footfalls started to sound more like an elephant's stomp then a human step and I could see Tony visibly tense.

"One….two…three!" I whispered loudly as the noise of stepping stopped; presumably because they were checking the blood. I pushed away from Tony and held my gun out in front of me.

"NCIS, put your hands up." The small crowd glanced up, only looking mildly surprised.

"I assume you are agent Gibbs, yes?"

"I said get your hands up."

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Up, now." I seethed.

"Or what? You'll shoot me? You wouldn't want Tony to get hurt would you?" I was very confused at this point. This man knew my name, Tony's preferred name to Anthony, and he was threatening Tony when I was protecting him as if he was still back in his cell. They must know he had escaped; the blood was so high in volume that who else could it have come from?

I understood a minute too late. I swiveled around, but a man was already holding Tony in a choke hold with a hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking. Tony's previously pale skin was now a light blue from lack of air, and I realized the man most of been there since I had started talking to the other man. How he was still conscious was a miracle that impressed me, but a part of me wished he'd pass out. The reason being Tony would definitely not approve of the plan I was preparing to proceed in. Well, not really so much of a plan, but more of a surrender-and see-what-happens kind of thing. I raised my hands, but one still held the gun, though it was now only pointed at the ground.

"Kick the gun over." He sounded relaxed and almost friendly. It disgusted me, but I followed his instructions. "Good, now come on." He motioned down the hallway with his forehead but I did not follow, instead waiting for Tony to be released. It happened and Tony fell to his knees gasping in air and coughing hard enough to shake his entire form. Before he was even done hacking though, the man regained his grip on Tony, but this time by his arm. He pulled DiNozzo harshly to his feet and kept him there as Tony currently could not carry his own weight. Knowing that Tony was now not in immediate danger I followed the man down the hallway.

"Here are your accommodations," the man grinned while pointing to a room on the left I hadn't seen before. I was surprised I hadn't seen it considering how hard I tried to be aware, but I suppose I was focused on my senior field agent. I entered the room slowly, and as cautious as a politician with a budget.

The space was undesirable to say the least. It was freezing, and very dirty. The wooden floor creaked with each step, and I could feel the cold emanating from it. It was bigger than the other rooms I had seen so far, but that was still not very large. It was maybe be ten feet by eight and, as I was now used to, unfurnished_._ I walked into the center of the room while Tony was dumped unceremoniously in the corner. He let out a moan, but he appeared to be losing his grip on consciousness. After the door was slammed shut I dropped down to my protesting knees to get closer to DiNozzo. He was still having a extremely hard time breathing, and the choke hold had worsen it. I leaned him against the wall in a pathetic attempt to open up his lungs, but the only outcome I received was another groan from Tony. I figured his ribs were hurting and probably his head too- I know from experience that concussions hurt much more than popular belief, especially when you move.

"Tony, you awake?" I wasn't expecting much, and I was only rewarded with a grunt. I sighed feeling very helpless, and I wished I could take Tony to the hospital for the umpteenth time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Please review more! I really like them, and they definitely improve my story. Feel free to write one even if you didn't like my story! You could also review what you would like to happen next in the story. Thank you Buckeye am I and Sue Dooley for reviewing even more than once! **

**The disclaimer still applies, I do not own NCIS.**

**Gibbs POV**-

I had done everything I could for DiNozzo, and now I was just stuck waiting. I was useless to my agent, I realized. I could only sit there and listen to the rattling of his lungs that came in erratic gasps. He was now laying on his side in a fetal position, which was probably caused by the cold. I had the luxury of moving to keep warm and I was still freezing; I could hardly imagine what he was feeling. I had attempted to give him my jacket, but before I had even fully shrugged it off both my shoulders Tony stopped me. He threatened he would try to stand up if I put it on top of him, which would no doubt open up any previously closed wounds. I reluctantly complied to his requests, or more accurately, demands. Though I complied I made a decision that if, or more likely when, Tony passed out I would give it to him. Tremors continually racked his body and his lips were now the color of a clear sky.

After five hours, which I knew because I thankfully had a watch to keep me sane, the door opened. I was tentative to attack because I had no idea how many there were, and I still had Tony with me. I tensed and watched curiously as the figure appeared.

It took an effort to keep my jaw from dropping at the sight. There was a girl, no more than thirteen years old, staring back at me with intense blue eyes.

"I've got water," she said with her voice soft. I wondered why she had attempted to be quiet, and I came to two conclusions. Either she had brought the water against directions, or she understood Tony had a concussion and loud noises would hurt his head. She took a step forward and I straightened my back, making myself look more powerful and defensive. I needed to protect DiNozzo,not necessarily from her, but whatever dangers that could linger behind the door. She saw my actions and raised her hands before bending over and setting the bottle on the floor. I eyed it warily pondering if it could be drugged, and I decided I would have to try it before giving any to my SFA. She also noticed my unsure glance and uncapped the water bottle before taking a sip.

"See, it's fine. But don't let anyone see that I gave this too you, please." Her voice quivered towards the end of her sentence, displaying her fear of the men near.

"Thank you."

"Your welcome, but don't drink any of the water they give you. They usually drug it." I nodded not completely convinced she was truly there just to help, but I was still thankful of the advice.

"Who are you?" I hadn't really been planning on asking her, but my thoughts slipped past my lips before I could stop them. I needed to pull myself together if I no longer could prevent myself from saying things I had no intention of saying.

"I'm Cleo. I'm Mark's sister, one of the guys out there." She must of noticed my face darken slightly because she immediately exclaimed, "Mark tried to get out, honestly! But Jeff kidnapped me. Jeff is the leader." Cleo must have been abnormally observant to notice my face changes, because half of NCIS could still not spot them.

"Why are you helping us?"

"Because neither Mark or I are bad people. I was trying to be helpful. Oh, I have this for you." She pulled out some bandages from the back pocket of her black jeans and handed them to me. "I really have to go now, or Jeff will notice I am gone. I couldn't bring any food because Jeff hasn't given me any yet, but I'll try to bring some next time." With that she hastily exited the room with her blue and white plaid shirt fluttering behind her.

"Boss?" I knew Tony had been semiconscious this entire time, otherwise I would have forced my coat unto him by now, but he had yet to speak. I had figured it would take up a lot of his energy considering how much it look like it strained him to simply breath.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think Jeff's plan is?" His question confused me at first before I remembered that Cleo had said that Jeff was the leader.

"Probably ransom."

"NCIS doesn't pay ransom."

"Yeah I know," I told him while scrubbing my hand over my face. A silence fell over the room and I glanced over at Tony. I let out a sigh of relief to see that he had _finally_ fallen asleep. I wrapped one of the bandages around his injured leg, but I had to force myself to ignore the grimace that crossed his sleeping face. I moved unto his ribs in an attempt to support them, but from what I could tell, the only outcome was pain.

I pulled off my coat and draped it over DiNozzo's shaking body. The cold hit me like a wall and forced the air from my lungs, but I stubbornly ignored it, instead rubbing some heat back into DiNozzo. After sitting there for another freezing twenty minutes the cold was unbearable. I had to get up and move around or I would be too cold to help myself, much less Tony. But no sooner than when I stood up, Cleo re-entered the room carrying a silver platter of food. This time, though, her face was blank and her back straight and rigid. She looked nothing like the girl who had just tried to save our lives just minutes ago.

She had a bright red mark on her cheek just starting to blossom, as if it were recent. I had the expectation that before the end of the hour it would be a sea blue. She did not look friendly, only defiant and above her age. After I squinted I noticed a ever so narrow nick of a cut slightly to the right of her neck. It did not take a genius to figure that she had had a knife to her neck, and at the same time she had been hit, judging by the two droplets of blood that still rolled downwards lazily.

Cleo was about half way through the room when she tripped on her untied converse. She looked rather funny, something close to the thing that Tony would snicker at. Her platter flew out of her hands, dumping its contents on the ground a few feet away from me. She scrambled to her knees with red embarrassment tinting her cheek, which then turned her left cheek to be a bright red. She started putting the food on their rightful places with her left hand, but she kept her right hand in front of her and empty. It was guarded with her back from any leering eyes in the door and she began to move it quickly. I soon realized that she was signing with me!

I could barely contain my shock, but I knew my face had to remain neutral and pay attention to what she was saying.

_Food drugged. Don't eat. Planning on moving you soon. Ransom? _The grammar of sign language is confusing and her was slightly incorrect, but I could still figure out what she meant. How she knew that I understood sign language was beyond me, but she had just given me a miracle and I refused to question it.

_Escape? _I asked her quickly.

_No, many guns. Don't._ I sighed, discouraged. This was going to be hard. Before there had been the spark of hope that McGee had called backup, but from my many hours of waiting I knew there was a minimal chance that rescue was going to happen from him. Ziva would still be processing the scene at the building and I doubt she would be allowed to help much because of Vance. Leon would probably focus on protecting the agency instead of on helping us. We were doomed if I was even considering Leon coming to the rescue.

Cleo finished cleaning up the food and set down the plastic plates a few feet away from me. She exited and closed the door without looking back behind her. There was the click of the lock as it was pushed back into place, and once again I paced the room. This situation was frustrating me, I was purely helpless waiting for my team to come to my rescue. I nearly punched the wall again, but a quick glance at my hand showed that it was still a bright red with spots of purple from the last time I had attempted that. I instead settled in curling my good hand into a tight fist, my fingernails digging crescents into my palm.

Tony stirred and I rushed over to him, reclaiming my jacket. He would be furious if he found out that I had lied to him, and it was too late.

"Is that your jacket?" His face was an angry red and I was sure he had intended his words to be shout, though they barely came out louder than a loud whisper.

"No."

"Liar," his hoarse voice accused.

"You need it. Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"You aren't exactly looking peachy either, Boss."

"Yeah? Well, I'm not dying."

"Neither am I. Well, not yet." I didn't have the bluntness to tell him that soon, he would be, if his health deteriorated at the same speed it had been for the last twenty four hours. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a pitiful puppy."

"I wasn't."

"How would you know?"

"I do control my face, contrary to popular belief."

"You still can't see the expressions you make."

"I am the one making them."

"It doesn't matter either way. You lied. You said you wouldn't give me the jacket." I didn't know how to reply to that so I chose not to.

"You want some water?"

"Nah, we should save it. But do we have food?"

"Yeah, but I don't think we should eat it. I think it's drugged." I felt bad for taking credit for Cleo's prediction, but I was not going to explain that to Tony with Lord knows who listening. I got the sinking feeling that if Jeff found out what Cleo had done then Cleo would be punished. I remembered her words of 'I couldn't bring any food because Jeff hasn't given me any yet, but I'll try to bring some next time'. Jeff hadn't given her any food and it had been far past midday. I started to wonder how long Cleo had been here, and if Jeff had hurt her. I made a quick, and rather easy, decision that if I escaped I would rescue Cleo too. It seemed only fair since she could have easily saved our lives, especially Tony's with the bandages. Without them he could have lost an extreme amount of additional blood, not to mention development of another infection. _Speaking of infection. _I leaned over and pressed my hand to Tony's sticky forehead, while pushing away the strands of hair that fell over it. He pulled away from my hand as if it burned him but it was too late; I had already felt how hot he was.

"Why didn't you say anything? You're burning up!"

"I feel fine." I glanced at him and his body denied his words. He had many sheets of perspiration covering his body, yet he was shaking violently as if he was cold. His teeth chattered together every couple seconds, and I realized his jaw was clenched tightly to prevent them from chattering the entire time.

"You sure as heck don't look fine."

"I feel like we've been through this. You don't look great either."

"Tony, you have to tell me if you are not alright."

"To heck I have to." I sighed wondering why Tony had to be so much like myself. _Because you taught him, _the obnoxious little voice said in my head, and I was vaguely aware that it was my conscious. _Great. Another thing you can be guilty for._

"You're shivering."

"So are you." Was I? I hadn't noticed, but I was rather cold. I glanced at my hand, and sure enough, it was shaking almost in rhythm to the sound of Tony's teeth.

"Are you sure you don't want any water?"

"Wow, Boss, avoidance really doesn't suit you."

"I'm going to pour some over your leg. It'll help with the infection."

"Tisk, tisk. I would have thought you were above this. The almighty Gibbs cannot admit defeat." His voice faltered when the water fell on his leg, and his wide smile turned into grimace. I instantly knew that Tony wasn't showing me how much it was hurting.

"You okay?"

"Just lovely." His voice came out quietly between his tightened jaw.

"I think we will be moved soon. It would make sense. We should prepare." Tony looked like he wanted to ask why it would make sense, but before he could I sent him a silencing death glare.

"Of course, Boss. I've got your six." A smile tugged at my lips as I knew it was true. DiNozzo was possibly fatally wounded and still as loyal as a dog. Maybe I had taught him some good things along with the bad. "But, uh, how exactly do we prepare?"

I knew I had to think quick or Tony would realize I was making up my plan as I went along, and I did _not_ want Tony to know that for once I was at a loss of what to do.

"Gather anything we do have and put it on our persons. If they come in I don't think they'll exactly just stand here and allow us to slowly pack anything that could possibly later useful. Also, I want to change the bandage on your leg." Tony did not look excited to have his gauze changed to say the least. His shoulders fell down ever so slightly in what I could only guess as fear, but almost as soon as they had the facade popped up along with his shoulders.

"Okay. Here's the water," he told me before tossing over the bottle I had left next to him. He seemed almost cheerful which was rather strange. Tony was funny, sarcastic, goofy, but not cheerful.

Maybe I was just starting to lose it. It seemed like a plausible hypothesis. It gave me explanations to a lot of my situations. I had almost decided that was the answer before I inwardly shook my head. No, even if I was loosing it I couldn't deal with it currently. DiNozzo couldn't have me doubting every move I made, or we would never make it out of here alive.

"You still in this world, Boss?"

"Yeah. Do you have a knife?" I asked him, hoping to avoid the inner self conflict I had recently just had.

"In my belt buckle." he told me, but made no move to grab it. "I, uh, am gonna need, um, help." His voice stumbled over the word 'help' as if he had tried to force the syllable as fast as he could.

"Yeah you're totally fine. It's completely normal to not be able to remove your belt without assistance."

"Shut up."

"You never do."

"What is it parents say? Treat others the way you want to be treated."

"That is meant for kindergartners."

"My maturity level is at a kindergartner's."

"That might be the truest thing you have said this entire time."

"The truest thing I have said is that you didn't have a plan A."

"I had a brilliant plan A."

"Two things. First thing, the key word in that sentence was 'had.' You _had _a plan. Second, if your plan was so good what was it?"

"I can't tell you. I have no idea who is listening."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

"Yep, definitely a kindergartner."

"It is completely normal for adults to call other adults liars."

"Not while rhyming it isn't. Now sit up more so I can get your stupid belt off."

"Ugh, fine." He used his arms to push himself upward, and my keen eye did not miss the lines of pain that formed at the edges of his eyes. I knelt down and unbuckled it, but at the same time checking over his injuries out of the corner of my vision. His elbows were shaking from the strain of his own weight that he seemed unwilling to put any fraction of on his leg. I pulled it off quickly and awkwardly from the angle I was situated at. As soon as it was off Tony gently lowered himself down, and I had to fight the urge to help him. He would not appreciate my assistance much, and I knew it, so I restrained myself. Even as gingerly as he had been he still grunted when he settled down.

I looked at the belt and pulled away the knife. Some blood had been smeared on it from when Tony had been holding it earlier, and I felt a hand squeeze my heart. I ignored the thoughts of Tony's condition, instead focusing on the task at hand. I could, and had to, use the knife to cut away Tony's bandage.

"I have to change the gauze now," I told him with my voice nearly apologetic.

"Yeah, okay." He spoke with acceptance as he understood how much it was likely to hurt. I knelt next to him and gently, well as gently as I could be, began to saw away the white cotton. Creases of pain made their way across Tony's face, and he but his lip hard. I forced myself to ignore him and continue, though it was very hard to miss his rapid breathing that was interrupting my thoughts. I finished cutting through it and lightly pulled away the bandage, which caused Tony to gasp. I nearly did too when I saw the cut.

I could feel heat emanating from it without even touching it, and the area around the slash was swollen. There was angry red streaks coming from it that snaked up his leg like veins. I felt Tony's forehead, and found it had managed to go up in the very short time in which I had not checked.

"Ow," I told him 'cause it sure looked bad.

"No kidding?" He asked with sarcasm oozing from his words.

**PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW OR FAVORITE OR EVEN FOLLOW. IT MAKES ME WANT TO CONTINUE. THIS IS BOLDED AND IN ALL CAPS SO YOU KNOW IT MUST BE IMPORTANT! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay, I really need encouragement to keep going. Please keep reviewing!**

**Disclaimer still applies, I sadly do not own NCIS.**

**Reveiws:**

**teresahr49- I would NEVER stop midway through a story. I have read WAY too many stories were that happens and it drives me crazy. Thank you so much for reviewing!**

**Hetty- Yeah, I would never rely on Vance. *shivers at the thought of it* Thank you for reviewing! **

**Buckeye I Am- STUPID STUPID STUPID Vance. Unhelpful Vance. Obnoxious Vance. I do not like Vance. And I won't have them there for too long.**

**Sue Dooley- Thank you so so much! Your kind reviews mean a lot to me, and they make me want to keep going!**

**Tony's POV- **

The gash was bad. Very bad. It was hurting more and more, and I knew the infection was getting worse. Sentences were beginning to become impossibly difficult, but even with all of that all I could think about was the movie Cube. It was about a bunch of people stuck in a maze like cube and they have to figure the way out. Gibbs could be Wayne Robson, and I could be David Hewlett. I forced myself not to smile as I warmed up to the thought; David Hewlett was rather handsome. But then again if I was him then I died by blood loss. _How ironic. _At least I wasn't Gibbs who would get his face melted off with acid.

I snapped out of my movie haze when Gibbs reached over and put the back of his calloused hand to my forehead. I should have expected it, but my instincts were dulled due to the fever. My normal self would have never let Gibbs see I was not okay, but now I didn't even have the energy to react.

"Ow," Gibbs stated simply.

"No kidding?" I asked him because that was the most obvious thing he had said the entire time.

"I'm going to re-wrap it." He pulled out the roll of gauze that Cleo had given him and ripped of a generous amount. He then promptly slipped it beneath my leg so that I would not have to lift it up, before tying a quick and tight knot. He did his actions so fast that only afterwards did I feel the immense pain.

It radiated from the leg, and covered my body. It swallowed me whole, and the searing pain smothered any happiness I had before. Fire flooded my veins like a dam breaking and I found myself instinctively putting my hand in front of the cut to guard it, but from what I was not sure. The air rushed from my lungs in a huff, and I felt pressure closing in around me and sucking in the air. The pressure was enough for me to forget where I was, and I duly wondered if this is what if felt like to walk on the ocean floor. The pain slowly began to die down, but barely enough for it to be described as manageable. _Breath through it, _a voice told me and I was unsure whether it was my conscious who had spoken or Gibbs.

I was trying to convince myself to open my squeezed shut eyes when I heard a soft noise. I thought at first I had imagined it, but then I heard it again. I coaxed my eyelids open and found myself facing Gibbs, whose grey brow was furrowed tightly. I looked behind him, just in time to see the door creak open.

"Get up," Jeff ordered from the doorway. Gibbs stood up, and if he was surprised that Jeff had just walked in, he didn't show it. He extended his arm to me, and then looped it around his neck. He used his knees to pull us both up into a standing position, but I still tilted to the right. My balance was a mess thanks to multiple contributions from my concussion and leg, and it was all I could do to stay standing.

"Walk out and if you try anything..." He let his threat trail out and there was no doubt in my mind he completely meant what he said.

We began our painstaking process of walking when Gibbs took the first step. Then he half pulled and half dragged me the distance of the step he had taken. After the first couple steps it improved, and we managed to go just a little under the average pace. As soon as we were out of the doorway I felt the cool metal of a gun being pushed hard enough to leave a bruise in the small of my back. I grunted acknowledgement of it, and steadied myself against Gibbs.

Half way down the hallway Gibbs whispered, "I think we should attack here, there is only one guy. When I say go, lean away from the gun. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." I told him while mentally preparing myself for what was going to happen next.

After another three steps Gibbs whispered loudly, "Go!"

I threw myself against the wall so that the gun no longer touched me. My back leaned against the wall, which gave me a good view of the fight between Gibbs and Jeff. Gibbs sent a pummel that glanced Jeffs chin, and Jeff staggered back a step looking dazed. Sadly, though, his daze was not long lasted. Both men raised their fist defensively and prepared for the upcoming spar. Jeff retaliated with an uppercut that snapped Gibbs head back that Gibbs noted with a grunt. They spent another half minute like this, neither of them balking. I was trying to pay attention to what was going on in case I could be of help, but standing was becoming harder. My back was sliding down the wood and spots were dancing through my vision, which I did not take for a good sign.

I blinked away the dots and shook my head- which turned out to be a bad idea on my part considering the concussion- and refocused on the situation. Gibbs had just sent a strike to Jeff's already broken nose which was a feint. It was obvious for me to see, but Jeff self-indulged in pain did not take notice. He blocked it off easily while Gibbs took the chance to pound Jeff's chest area. Jeff fell to the ground with and undignified cry, and Gibbs took advantage of the situation. After a small struggle Gibbs was atop Jeff and pummeling him repeatedly. I suppose that after a short amount of time Jeff fell unconscious because eventually Gibbs stood back up.

"You okay?" he asked turning his attention towards me. I nodded meekly and tiredly. God, I just wished I could take a hot shower. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Not really." Sadly that was the truth. I had managed a hobble before, but my mind seemed to now shudder at the thought of even standing up. "Go get help. Leave, now." I told him harshly trying my best to replicate Gibbs' no nonsense tone. I must have done decent because Gibbs pondered the idea.

"I can't. You can't even stand, much less defend yourself."

"Gibbs, don't make me do this." I knew that I would have to if he refused, but it was last resort.

"Do what?"

"GUYS! THE TWO ARE ESCAPING!" Gibbs clamped a hand over my mouth, but it was much too late. I could already hear indistinct shouts coming closer. I bit Gibbs hand then after he released me I said, "Sorry. Bye. Get Cleo." If looks could kill then Gibbs would be a murderer. He sighed then shook his head with a smile. He reached out and gave me a softer version of the infamous head slap before leaving.

"DiNozzo, I haven't given you permission to die yet." he called over his shoulder then promptly broke into a run.

**Gibbs POV- **

I swore a few times in my head and a few times aloud. Sometimes Tony could be a stubborn idiot. _More like all the time._ But I had to give it to him; his plan was rather evilly smart. He had gotten me to leave him, though he had been rather drastic. The guys could kill him and I had simply left him there unprotected. It did make sense though, if I hadn't of left we would have both surely died. There was the little comfort in knowing that if these guys wanted a hostage they would have to keep Tony alive, seeing as how they no longer had me too.

The only problem in Tony's plan was that I had no idea where the heck I was going. When I had run off it had been a blind guess, and my gut had conveniently decided that it did not want to partake it what was currently happening. So far I had just been wandering to find Cleo. I looked for any doors, but I hadn't found any yet. That was to be expected though, considering how long last time it had taken me to find one.

I heard shouts that were almost indecipherable in the distance, but I made out a few words. They said 'found', 'Tony', and 'chain him'. Their new development in finding Tony only made me work faster though. At least I knew they weren't going to kill him now. I felt bad they were going to chain him 'cause no matter how much Tony had hidden it I knew his arm was probably broken. I hadn't pushed him on the matter and I had been hoping to wait until we were rescued to set it, but now I wished I would have done so sooner. But right now Tony would be angry if he found out that I had wasted my time worrying about him instead of finding Cleo.

I started sprinting again keeping my eyes aware. After twenty minutes my breath was coming hard proven by the billows of white mist that puffed from my mouth, but it was worth it for two reasons. First of, I was no longer cold. Second, I had come across a door. I pressed my ear against it and heard no noise, yet I could see a thin layer of light escaping from beneath the door. I tested the handle and it was locked, which seemed like an area where they would keep Cleo. I threw my shoulder at the door with all the strength that I could muster and I was rewarded with a groan from the wood. I tried it again and the door snapped off its hinges allowing me passage.

Inside the room, or maybe storage closet, it was around four feet wide on both sides. It was not long enough for me to lay down in, and I couldn't even stand without my head hitting the low ceiling. Cleo sat in the corner with her knees pressed against her chest, and her arms wrapping them tightly there. Her wavy brown hair masked her face, but I knew it was her from the plaid shirt. I took a step inside while bending down to fit, and she noticed. Her head shot upwards and when she saw me so did her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asked looking skeptical.

"Escaping."

"There's too many men!"

"I trust my team. Do you trust me?" After a hesitation she nodded and I knew she was answering honestly. "Okay then. Come on." I extended my hand to her and she firmly grasped it. She stood up, and I saw she too, had to hunch over.

"Do you know where to go?" she asked.

"Not exactly. I know how to get out once I am at the room where the first held Tony."

"Oh! I know where that is!" she seemed genuinely happy she could be of help. She pulled my arm in the direction and I couldn't help but think how much she was like Kelly.

"Two more rights, three lefts, then a right, then a left." Cleo's words interrupted my thoughts.

"Okay. Impressive how well you know the place," I told because for some reason I felt the need to praise her.

"Thank you," she replied with a bright smile lighting up her face. After we took the turns that she had listed I found the door that had once prevented Tony from leaving.

"Good job." I told her while pulling out my notebook I had stashed in my waist band. I found the page where I had written all of the turns and was once again thankful I had it with me. I followed the many turns down the almost never-ending and unforgiving hallways. After a half hour I found the front door and resisted urge to hug Cleo in happiness. She squealed in joy and made the decision for me by throwing her arms around my neck. I felt her chest shaking and when she pulled away she was wiping tears from her eyes. She looked slightly embarrassed for losing it, but it was completely normal. I would have been hysterical too, if I had been stuck here for as long as she had been there.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Your welcome," I told her allowing a wide smile to cross my face. The door was still open from when I kicked it down to get inside when McGee and I had first arrived. I pushed it away so that Cleo would not get any splinters and she quickly exited. I followed her out and I found her smiling at the dark and star filled sky.

I felt bad for ruining her moment, but we had to leave to get help for Tony. "Come on. My car is over here." Well, it was over there. I wasn't sure if I should pray it was still there or not. If it was, that meant McGee could be in trouble. If it wasn't, Cleo and I had no means of transportation. But sure enough, there was the silver Porsche right where I had left it. I had no idea what that meant for Tim, but I hoped he was alright.

I looked for the keys in my pockets and found that I must have lost them some time in this ordeal. I bit my lip to stop myself from swearing and glanced over at Cleo. She was looking at me curiously and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I lost the keys."

"Is there any way to get in?"

"Maybe," was my cryptic answer. I moved over to the trunk and tested it to see if it was unlocked. It thankfully was, and I swung it open. I smiled proudly when I saw McGee kept everything needed to break into the car in a box in his car. I grabbed it and rifled through its contents, pulling out anything that would later be of use. I took a screw driver and went to the drivers window and wedged it between the door and window. It opened slightly, but enough that I could fit the metal rod in. I maneuvered the rod to press the unlock button and sighed happily when the door clicked open.

"How did you do that?"

"I'm a federal agent. I've picked up a few tricks."

"Could you show me how to do that?"

"Of course. As soon as we are out of this mess," I promised. We hopped into the car and buckled up, and I sped out of the warehouse area.

I drove as reckless as ever and made it to NCIS headquarters in three minutes. Cleo was holding on to the dashboard, but she looked less scared than most adults who had ridden with me when I was driving. I hopped out of the car and sprinted into the building, assuming that Cleo would follow. When I was inside the building I was faced with an out of order sign on the elevator. For the second time that day I resisted the urge to swear and jogged over to the stairs. I took them nearly four at a time and ignored my protesting knee.

When I reached my floor I was tackled by Abby with a tight hug. "I was so worried about you! Oh my gosh! Where is Tony?! Is he okay?! Why is he not with you?!" Abby exclaimed in one long breath.

"He's okay, for now. Call SWAT for me." I told her and went off to find a bullet proof vest. I pulled mine on over my clothes then faced Abby again. "Did you call?"

"Yep. I assume you wanted them at Oak street in five?"

"Yeah. Thanks. Can you take Cleo down to Ducky and have him watch her?"

"Sure," Abby told me. I nodded thanks and went back to preparing for the rescue mission proceeding shortly. I grabbed McGee's spare gun from his desk, for both mine were still at the warehouse. While looking for his gun I found keys to his car, and I took those too. His car would drive much faster than mine.

I was about halfway to the stairs when Cleo stopped me. "Don't get hurt," she warned me.

"I wasn't planning on it."

"I'm serious."

"So am I." She smiled at me then walked back over to Abby. I ran the rest of the way to the stairs and calmed myself. This should be fun.

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ****REVIEW! I GIVE OUT VIRTUAL HIGH FIVES TO WHOEVER WHO DOES!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Keep up with the reviews please! And I do not own NCIS. **

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**Tony's POV- **

I heard the voices getting closer and I took a deep breath ignoring how much it hurt my ribs. I rolled my stiff shoulders in preparation for what was going to happen next, and had the smallest pang of regret for what I had done. _No, I had done what had needed to be done to get Gibbs out,_ I reminded myself. If I hadn't Gibbs would still be here, and we both knew there was not much usage in two hostages other than ransom. And by now I was starting to wonder if I were only here for ransom. I doubt Jeff would have kept me alive if he did not want to exact revenge from when I put him away for ten years. At least like this I had a little protection of being the only one in custody.

The voices were very close now and I felt deja vu. Only earlier today had I been sitting somewhere very similar to here dreading and waiting for when the voices found me. At least then Gibbs had been there and I hadn't been alone. _Where was McGee? _I had not thought to ask Gibbs where he had been during this whole time. And what about Ziva? I couldn't really remember much from the collapsed building. I vaguely remembered Ziva finding me, then I think Mark kidnapped me? But that didn't make sense because how did he get past Ziva, and why did she trust them?

All of these unanswered questions were making my head hurt. I needed to focus. Within a turn I knew that the men would find me. I straightened me back, and I prepared myself for being forced to stand without help. I assumed they would make me do that or they would drag me, and neither option sounded appealing nor favorable. _Or maybe they would just would kill me._

As my time estimation prediction was sadly correct, in a half minute five men dressed in all black rounded the corner to where I was sitting. At first they didn't notice me, they only looked at Jeff's beaten and unconscious body a few feet away. But eventually there eyes trailed to find the culprit, and there I sat with my legs sprawled in front of me. The tallest one in the center stepped forward and I felt a startling urge to shrink back.

"Did you do this?" Demanded the man who appeared to be second in command next to Jeff.

"No idea what you're talking about," I informed him stubbornly. That sure seemed to make him wrathful. He crossed the distance between us and grasped my damaged arm. He wrapped his thick hands around it and tightened his grip vigorously enough to leave finger shaped contusions. I tried to pull away and retract my arm, but he only pressed stronger. No matter how hard I attempted I couldn't contain the cry of agony that slipped past my parched lips. A sadistic smile crossed his face, and then he abruptly dropped it.

"You know, we should set that. If you lose it, it will cost us." Without giving me any interval of time to ready myself he put his meaty hands around the area where the bone was cracked in half. He then thrusted the bone into its proper place and I had no chance of stopping my shout of anguish. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did that hurt?" he questioned me, in his conceited and mocking tone.

Spontaneously, I heard calls coming from down the hallway asking 'where did you guys go'? I glanced at the man who had just set my arm, and I decided to name him Meaty Hands. He seemed irritated at the least. "We found Tony. Come over here!" Meaty Hands bellowed in answer.

"Coming!" Someone answered with a rather high voice that made me want to snicker at him. Meaty Hands must have agreed on some level because he rolled his eyes at their incompetence. My acute hearing barely caught the word 'idiots' that he muttered. After a minute, two more additional men came to where all six of us were already bunched.

"Welcome to the party," I told them with a smug smile.

"Who did that? Did Tony? Should we chain him?" High-Pitched-Person inquired while pointing to Jeff.

"That's what I was finding out when you interrupted," Meaty Hands told High-Pitched-Person. Meaty Hands turned back to me. "Did you do that?" he repeated.

"Do what?"

"You know what I'm talking about!"  
"No I don't."

"Should I jog your memory?" he grabbed my arm in a painful threat.

"I did it."

"I don't believe you. You don't look like you can even stand at the moment."

"You know, there was another guy," High-Pitched-Person cut in.

"Why the heck didn't you say anything?" Meaty Hands demanded.

"I didn't think about until now!" High-Pitched-Person defended.

"Did your friend do this?" Meaty Hands asked me.

"No," I told him as strong-willed as ever. Meaty Hands stood up from next to me, and for the first time I noticed he had steel-toed boots. That was about the only observation that could count as a warning before he sent the first kick for my ribs. He sent what felt like thousands, but what I assume was no more than five. If I thought that I had struggled for breath before, now I was nearly suffocating.

"Who beat Jeff?" Meaty Hands tried again.

"I don't know," I insisted while panting, and I didn't like how slurred my words were.

By now the total of seven men had surrounded me in an inescapable circle. They all wore dark jeans and v-neck, black t-shirts. It almost reminded me of a school uniform, the way they all matched. It was a rather comical sight, and to me, it looked like a scene from a cheesy movie instead of a life-threatening situation. "Did you coordinate your outfits or something?" I queried them managing to keep my face serious. I think High-Pitched-Person answered with something like 'No! It was Jeff's idea', but I couldn't really hear because I broke into a hard coughing fit. When it finished I gulped in the cold air and found that I tasted copper in my mouth. That couldn't be good.

"Lets just assume the other guy did it. Do you know his name?" Meaty hands asked, but he was no longer paying attention to me.

"It was Gibbs," someone offered who I had not heard speak yet.

"Where is he know?"

"He must have escaped with Tony. Made it halfway, realized Tony was slowing him down. Ditched him then ran off. He doesn't know his way out, he's probably lost somewhere in the tunnels." This time I couldn't see the face who had spoken, but I recognized it as Mark's voice.

"Here that, Tony? You got abandoned." Meaty Hands taunted with a smug smirk. I resisted the urge to tell him that I was positive that was back-up was already on their way right now with Gibbs in tow. The only outcome of bragging though, would be giving them time to organize a counterattack before they arrived. I settled for simply staying silent and staring up and Meaty Hands.

"Mark, chain him up in the basement. You know the directions right?" Meaty Hands asked.

"Uh, could you write it down real fast?"

"Fine." He grabbed a napkin from his pocket and scribbled down a few things that I couldn't see with a pen. He handed it to Mark and told him, "Hurry up."

Mark grabbed my decent arm's bicep, and hauled me to my feet. The men broke their circle to allow us entry, and one of the guys we passed shoved my mutilated arm. I bit my lip and barely managed to remain silent. The other men plainly just laughed as they watched my face become etched with torment.

Mark basically had to drag me the long trudge to the basement. After we were a few turns away though, he helped me into a better position that supported my ribs. It was close to how Gibbs had helped me, with my arm looped around his neck. He wasn't quite as careful as Gibbs was, but he much different from the way Meaty Hands had treated me. I guiltily took the opportunity to slip my hand into his pocket and pinch the napkin with my index and middle finger. I felt bad for taking advantage of his kindness, but the situation was life and death.

When we reached the basement he helped me sit down with my back leaning against the wall. He brought two chains with cuffs at the ends over to me and snapped them tightly into place. I grunted when it was put over my snapped arm, and Mark gave me an apologetic glance.

"Sorry," Mark muttered.

"You're Cleo's brother?" I questioned off topic.

"Yeah," he pronounced dragging out the word to show his skepticism. He seemed puzzled that I knew that Cleo was his sister, and that was her name.

"That's a large age gap," I observed.

"Yeah."

"Gibbs rescued her." I informed him bluntly. I knew I shouldn't have told him, but I felt obliged to. He stopped what he was doing and I felt his hazel eyes bore into me.

"What?"

"The other guy, Gibbs, rescued her. She came in and gave us water and bandages. I convinced Gibbs to leave me and he promised he wouldn't leave without her." He hadn't really promised in the traditional way, but I took anything Gibbs said as a promise.

"Thank you," he told me with his voice quiet.

"Don't thank me, thank Gibbs."

"Will he be coming back?"

I hesitated if I should tell him that much, but I decided to trust him. "Yeah. Charges on you will be dropped if you Cleo testifies that you were forced to do this with her." Mark simply gaped at me blankly. I wasn't sure if he was in shock or merely could not process everything I had told him.

"I should go," he said still looking at me like I was an enigma.

"Okay." He stood up to go, but stopped with his hand hovering over the door handle.

"Don't escape."

"What?" He came over and chained my broken arm.

"Please don't escape or Jeff will have my head."

"Thank you," I told him because it really had taken off a great deal of my pain.

"I'm serious," he replied one more time before leaving. I heard the click of a lock, but only one. When I had came in I was almost certain that there had been two locks.

**Sorry this chapter was a little short! The next will be longer, I promise! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! I'M ON MY HANDS AND KNEES! And please tell me if you got confused with so many people in one scene. It was sort of hard to write it.**


	15. Chapter 15

_**PLEASE READ- **_Everyone knows that the girl is named CLEO, right? Not Cloe. I just wanted to clear that up.

**THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING EVERYONE! THERE IS NO WAY I COULD CONTINUE THE STORY WITHOUT YOUR GUYS' SUPPORT! I do not own NCIS.**

**Reveiws:**

**Sue Dooley- Thank you so much for your continued support! Um, I do want to mention that her name is Cleo. I said that above too. It doesn't really matter, I just think you might want to know.**

**Buckeye am I- Thanks for reviewing. Once again the girl is Cleo not Cloe, not that I care. You can go with whatever name you want! **

**bunnykoko- I try to update as quick as I can. And too be honest I hardly know where this is going too!**

**LESLIE hughes- Sorry that it was confusing! I tried hard to straighten it up, but I was still afraid that this would happen. Did you still figure it out alright?**

**jalsi- As you might notice, I don't really write about Tim. I don't really dislike him, but I find his traits are hard to put into writing. Thank you for reviewing! **

**Tony's POV-**

I must have sat on my butt for ten minutes, unwilling to do anything as even the thought of moving made me want to groan. But then I heard a commotion happening above me, and there was no way Gibbs would find me here, useless. I crawled away from my position by the wall, while avoiding putting weight on injured areas, only to find that I could make it three feet before my chain yanked me back. However, that was still far enough from the door for it to be unreachable. There wasn't anything to pick the lock of the chain with, and even if I did I would have to pick it with my injured arm as that was the only one mobile. I settled for the only thing that I could do, which would be scope the room. It was large, by far the largest room I had been in so far. It was barren, unfinished, and had no heating. _Not like the other rooms had really been heated either, though. _Even with my high fever I was shivering, and I almost regretted not accepting Gibbs' jacket before he had left. I tapped the walls that were within reach from my sitting position, and they sounded hollow. I sighed. This was getting me nowhere.

I could hear a gun fight occurring between what I hoped to be my rescue and Jeff's gang. The sounds reminded me of a fourth of July that my father had scheduled a meeting on, which basically meant that I had been banished to my room. It was rather similar when you compared the two situations, actually. I felt unincluded from what actually happening and I was stuck in somewhere I did not want to be. Yeah, that basically summed up my messed up childhood.

The gunshots were slowing down and becoming less frequent, indicating that someone had finally won the fight. Judging from what sounded like orders from a SWAT team commander it was my rescue who had victory.

"Hey! Down here!" I attempted to attract attention. "Gibbs!" Well, this was obnoxious. I gave anyone a long pause to respond, but got none. "Hello?" No answer. Great. I had to wait for Gibbs to find me because god help those SWAT agents, they were incompetent. I hated waiting for Gibbs to come help me, with a capital H. But try as I might, there would be no stopping me from passing out soon. The blood loss was getting to me, and the room was spinning rapidly. _Maybe I could just rest my eyes… _

I cursed myself for allowing my eyelids to slip for even a minute. I would never live it down if- no, when- my rescue came and I was _asleep. _I looked around to see if there was anything else that could be done, but found nothing. So, all I had to do was stay awake. Theoretically it was straightforward.

I felt like I was drowning in my own lungs with every movement because they caused liquid in my lungs to move. It had worried me at first, but when I discovered it was not pain causing I had lost the energy to care about it. There was other better attention grabbing things, such as my leg and arm at the moment. I focused on the suffering of those areas and suddenly the weights were removed from my eyelids.

Upstairs I could have sworn I heard a commanding voice. I felt something that I realized was a gut feeling, the same sensation that Gibbs often felt, and it told me Gibbs was talking .

"Down here!" I tried, but my voice came out as a raspy whisper. I don't think I had ever been more frustrated in my life. Help dangled in front of my face, but just far enough to be out of reach. "Gibbs!" There was the same outcome. I curled my hands into fists and I felt blood drip down onto my wrists I had pressed so hard. Forget any torment I had felt in the past few days, this was by far the worst torture. I clutched my bleeding head in my hands and tried to regain control over myself. If anyone was looking at me I was sure they would see steam blowing from my ears.

I grabbed my knife from where I had returned it to my belt and threw it as hard as I could. I had never been particularly amazing at knife throwing, but with my rage the entire blade implanted itself in the door with a loud thud. Only about a quarter of the handle could be seen from my side of the door, but I was sure more could be seem from the other side. The thd had been very loud; loud enough that anyone upstairs would have heard.

"Tony?" the voice was muffled from the many walls between us, but I would recognize anything of Gibbs from a mile away. I heard footsteps approaching the room, and in a half minute people were kicking down the knife impaled door. SWAT members were instantly surrounding me, and the numerous faces and voices made me dizzy and confused. The room was still spinning, and I could see that people mouths were moving. The strange thing, though, was the fact I could hear no sound coming from them. A fog was settling on my already troubled eyesight, and suddenly the faces blurred and I was alone.

"Gibbs?"

"Got your six." I glanced over and instantly there he was, kneeling at my right. He laid his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I think I'm gonna pass out," I admitted matter-of-factly.

"What happened to DiNozzo's don't pass out?" Gibbs asked with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"I call it reserving energy," I managed before I tumbled into a relatively comfortable blackness.

**.o0O0o.**

I hated coming to after passing out. There was always the confusion and the chaos of my mind. And then, usually, there was the hospital. And God, I hated hospitals. Being left at the mercy of people poking and prodding every inch of me was usually worse than the actual event that lead me to be there.

This time was no different. When I opened my eyes, there was multiple doctors and nurses blocking my line of vision. I was laying down in a hospital bed, and I was no longer wearing my own clothes. I felt a horrible burning feeling sensation in my throat and instinctively reached my hand up to find the source, only to find I couldn't. I felt my forehead crease as I discovered my arms were in padded restraints connected to the hospital bed.

"Hey," Gibbs said and looking past all of the busy nurses I could make out Gibbs looking down at me. "You still can't die," he reminded me.

A nurse who was studying a clipboard glanced up, and saw that I awake. She shooed out Gibbs when she followed my gaze and saw him standing in the background. "You can't be in here," she told him while trying to push him out the door. Gibbs glared at her and quickly fixed the situation by pulling out his badge.

"I'm a federal agent," he clarified.

"Unless he is a criminal you have to leave," she remained stubborn. Gibbs looked unsure of what to say for the first time in his life as she had stayed uncompromising under his glower.

"He is." Gibbs finally decided to lie with a swift nod. I would have smiled at Gibbs for lying to an old lady, but there was something in my mouth that blocked my lips from moving. I realized that it was the same thing that must have caused that burning sensation that I had felt earlier. Whatever it was, I was positive I did not like it, and that it was making it hard to breath. I pulled harder at my arms to get them mobile again, but the restraints simply bit into my skin. I heard a machine start beeping noisily in warning as I felt my heart rate increase considerably.

"He's fighting the restraints and ventilator!" I heard someone call in an urgent tone. I began taking quick, shallow breaths as panic clutched at my heart. _Why was I in these stupid restraints? _But no matter how hard I pulled, they were unrelenting. I saw someone approaching me in a stark white coat, and I noticed that he gripped my arm a little below my forearm. There was a prick as a needle was injected, and then the peaceful blackness.

**.o0O0o.**

This time when I woke up, it wasn't as bad. There was much less chaos, and the burning sensation had been removed. The only people in the room where Gibbs and a nurse who were deep into a conversation; too deep to acknowledge my awareness. I was hooked up to a half dozen machines, which was about a half dozen too many, but I figured if any of them were dangerous Gibbs wouldn't allow me to be connected to them. Even though the burning feeling was gone, my throat still felt dry and raw. I tried to swallow, and immediately grimaced at how much it hurt.

I decided I should take an assessment of the damage to my body. My arm was in a uncomfortable, black short arm cast. My ribs along with my leg were wrapped tightly, and I could feel that I had stitches on many areas of my body. Every inch of me was sore, making it safe to assume I probably had about a thousand bruises.

"Gibbs," I tried to use my voice, and though it irritated my throat, it was better than before. Gibbs immediately gave the nurse a pointed look ending their exchange before turning his attention to me.

"How do ya feel?" he asked.

"Like I got ran over with a truck a few times."

"Not bad, considering."

"How long was I out?"

"Two days." My eyebrows shot up with that discovery.

"What did I miss?"

"We arrested all of the men. Mark got the charges dropped. Cleo and Abby are now friends."

"How long till I can get out of here?" Gibbs chuckled at that.

"We have no idea, but probably a while. In case you haven't noticed your temp is still at 104." I wrinkled my nose. I did not want to be here that long, nor did I plan on it. Gibbs must have understood what I was thinking because then he added, "If you even think about signing AMA then I will head slap you so hard you forget your name. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir!" I mocked. "Can I have some water?"

"No, but there's ice chips." Gibbs helped spoon some to me as I was only one handed at the moment. They felt amazing on my dry throat as I sucked on them, so much so that a smile of pleasure crossed my face. Yet, like all things, my happiness was short lived. I hadn't really noticed it until I had become fully awake, but I was really hot. I felt like my body was being dipped into molten lead, and the fever was robbing me of energy. Just doing the thing that came the most natural to me, talking, was strenuous.

"You don't look so good," Gibbs commented.

"I don't feel so good."

"I'm going to get the doctor."

"No!"

"Fine, but I'm at least getting Duck."

"I'm fine."

"Are not."

"What are you, three?"

"I guess you are rubbing off on me."

"Ha ha."

"I'm getting Ducky." He stated, and before I could once again protest, he was gone. He only took about five minutes to locate Duck and bring him back to my room, which was only a little longer than I had estimated.

"How are you feeling, Anthony?" Ducky asked with his accented voice.

"Dandy."

"Jethro seems to disagree." Ducky replied while moving over to me. He pulled out a thermometer from his voluminous, black bag and pushed it against my forehead, and while being in a bed, there was no where I could go to escape. When Duck pulled it away and glanced at what it said, lines of worry appeared on his face.

"What is it, Duck?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"His temperature has not gone down. In fact, it has risen to 105." He declared gravely.

"Um, is that normal?" I inquired only mildly worried. Gibbs had told me I was not allowed to die, so the worst thing that could happen would be staying here for a while.

"No, and it is quite worrisome. I will have a word with your assigned doctor," he told me before making a hasty exit.

"You have plenty of visitors," Gibbs informed me. I grimaced at the thought of Abby's hug that was sure to come as soon as she did. "Are you ready for them?"

"Not really," I confessed with my eyes cast downwards.

"They'll understand. You should get some sleep."

"Alright, but not with you standing over me. It's kind of creepy."

"Fine." He left after throwing out his latest empty coffee cup. I rolled over into a slightly more comfortable position on my side, but then immediately went back onto my back with a groan when my ribs erupted with pain. _Bad idea, _I thought to myself. With these wounds, I would never sleep the entire time I was here. Despite my knowledge of that, I closed my eyes to fake it. If anyone came in I didn't really want to deal with them. It was arduous to be social and keep up my sarcastic masquerade.

After an hour or so, I still had not fallen asleep. Someone had come in twice so far, and by the foot steps I ascertained that once it was Ziva, and the other time it was McGee. I felt bad for lying to them, but I just couldn't handle it with the high fever. And with the pain meds, who knew what I would say.

**Okay, I know I said this chapter would be longer. I think it is like 600 words longer, which isn't too much. Sorry! Anywho, PLEASE, ****Asseblief, ****Ju lutem, ****Խնդրեմ, ****অনুগ্ৰহ কৰি****, Sisplau, ****Amābō tē, REVIEW! ** **According to google, those are different ways to say please in different languages if you didn't catch on :).**

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	16. Chapter 16

**I do not own NCIS or its characters.**

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**Sunnypelt- Sorry I didn't reply to your reveiw last chapter in the author's note! I didn't see your review until I had already posted the chapter. Thanks for reviewing, and I will definitely continue.**

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**DS2010- Yeah, me too. Keep reviewing please!**

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**Tony's POV- **

After five hours of faking it, I finally fell into a light slumber only to wake another half hour later when my fever increased once again. When my eyes fluttered open, three nurses were hovering over me. Two had wet cloths and were attempting to cool me down, the other fidgeting with the knobs on my IV. I could see past them, at the edge of the room, Gibbs was sitting in a chair sipping coffee. His face was blank, but after many years of working for him, I could see beneath his cover. He was concerned, frustrated, and maybe most importantly disgusted with his coffee. When he observed I was awake, he stood up and progressed to my side.

"You okay?" he asked quietly. I gave him a cynical look; it was rather obvious I wasn't okay.

"Fabulous and feeling astonishingly glorious," I told him with my million dollar smile. He rolled his eyes, but with my desired effect he was smirking. "What's my temp at?" I queried only mildly concerned.

"High," Gibbs stated the obvious..

"Really now?" I asked with my eyebrows up. _Wow, Gibbs must be really distracted if he is being this obvious. _

I tried to sit up, but with the movement came burning fireworks of anguish. I locked my jaw that trapped my shout and denied it life. Instead, I allowed myself to groan quietly, yet Gibbs still noticed. "Hurts," I muttered nearly incoherently. I hadn't meant to say it, but my delirious mind seemed to be disconnected from my muscles.

"I think that's kind of apparent," Gibbs told me while half smiling, but in contradiction to his sarcastic words, his hand gently rested on my shoulder. I was grateful for his support, but I was at least a little embarrassed at my current condition.

As time progressed my vision and thoughts swirled together and the room developed to be spinning wildly. I knew I was muttering words, but I had no way of stopping them or finding out which ones they were. I could see Gibbs lips moving, but the sounds were lost in the distance between his mouth and my ears. With the movement of lips I determined he was trying to comfort me, but I could not find the energy to reply within myself. More nurses materialized, all of them holding copious things that potentially bring down a fever. One positioned ice packs on the back of my neck while another refilled the water basin. A third was pulling off the thin sheet that had previously been laid over me and a fourth folding it crisply. With all of the buzzing nurses, though, Gibbs was forced to the back of the room where I could no longer see him. I did not particularly care for this new development, but no one really seemed to bother themselves with my opinion at the moment.

I felt a thermometer being jabbed without much bedside manner beneath my tongue, causing me to nearly pull away instinctively. A forty year old women brought the thermometer closer to her eyes, provoking her to wrinkle her face. Once again her words were lost before they could reach my ears, but once again my skilled eyes followed her lip movement. Half of her head was turned away from me, facing Gibbs, but I still made out the spoken number 106. _That doesn't sound very promising, _I mused. And it wasn't considering death from fevers usually occur at 107 or 108. I had experienced my share of fevers and I knew more than an average citizen would about them. I knew often a fever was part of your body's defence system. While my leg infection had been relatively severe, I was still unsure if I should believe that it could cause this much damage.

My eyelids were becoming heavy as the past day's event took their toll. They drooped like a flower in mid-day sun and then slipped close. No sooner than they did, though, I felt Gibbs slap my cheek gently but firmly.

"Tony, I know it's hard, but you have to stay awake," he told me quietly and I was surprised to find that he was decipherable. Not only that, but his voice was fatherly and gentle which both terrified me and delighted at the same time. It reminded me of the way a dad was supposed to act, the way I imagine he would of with Kelly. But, it also was very un-Gibbs, and gave me the impression that for once I may actually be in a tedious battle between life and death. My brain told my body to retort with a witty comment like 'I knew you cared', but I couldn't be too sure I replied at all. My heart was hammering forcefully against my broken ribs, and I couldn't prevent the racking cough from spilling out of me. "Deep breathes, DiNozzo." I attempted to do what I was told, but that only brought on another onset of hacking when my inhalation hitched. After a minute of them not subsiding my swirling vision was tinted the color of smoke rising from a fire. After the next minute my eyes were squeezed shut in pain and I could hear Gibbs yelling at a young nurse who sounded helplessly petrified. In the third minute I ceased to be aware.

**.o0O0o. **

When I opened my eyes Ducky was slumped next to me in a position that was sure to cause a pained neck and back in the long run. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling, and his glasses looked ready to fall off his nose. He was snoring quietly with his mouth opened slightly, and while I felt bad to wake him, I knew he would very much want me too.

"Ducky?" I asked feebly. Even though I had been nearly silent, he shot up from his chair looking quite startled. When his eyes confirmed that there was no intruders they meet mine, and he allowed himself to slowly settle his aching body back into the chair.

"Good morning, Anthony."

"Morning, Ducky." I told him with a stronger voice. Much like my tone, my entire body was feeling better. I was still unsure that if I stood I would not fall down, but I was nearly positive my fever had died down.

"You seem to be feeling better."  
"Much."

"Are you ready for visitors?"

"Yep. That is, if they're ready for my awesomeness."

"I'm quite sure they are used to it," Duck replied with a beam. "I'll just be a minute to retrieve them." He eased himself out of seat and then left. I took a minute to recuperate and evaluate myself. My suspicion of being on heavy drugs was confirmed from lack of pain, which was quite a feat considering my sustained injuries, and my thoughts were sluggish. My limbs felt heavy and I knew any movement I made would be vigorous and fruitless. I was debating whether or not standing could be a good idea, but I had notion that my legs would not support any weight. I was about to settle for elevating the cot when in strolled what Ducky had called my 'visitors'. Seeing all of them crowded in my small room in made them look much closer to a small army. Ducky, Abby, Gibbs, Ziva, McGee, Gerald, Cassie, and most astonishingly Fornell occupied every free inch in the room.

"I'm sure we are breaking some sort of fire law having this many people in here," Abby remarked truthfully. "But you know, the nurse did say we could have up to three people in at the time, so we only, what? Doubled what we promised?"

"The nurse isn't cute anyway," I told her with a grin that she matched.

"You've got your usual charm back, Tony." McGee told me.

"I never lost it, McGoo." I retorted. When I called him 'McGoo' his face relaxed and in that moment I realized that he had been worried about me during this ordeal. Speaking about this ordeal… Where had McGee been? "Elflord, where were you during this whole time?" At my question his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and he lowered his head a fraction of an inch.

"Uh, I kind of got lost."

"Seriously? Come on. You must have come across at least one of the fights."

"No, Tony, I missed them all." His head dipped further.

"Probilicious, that is a depressing skill." I probably could have gone on teasing him, but (A) His head was already parallel to the ground and (B) My body was fatigued from being social. Gibbs must have somehow noticed- or read my mind, I'm not sure- because he glanced at his phone and announced, "We have a dead marine. Grab your gear." And I knew full well right there and then that if Gibbs wanted he could easily demand to be taken of the roaster because they were a man down. I also knew that meant he was sparing me from having to keep up my appearances for a least a few hours and I was immensely grateful.

"Bye, Tony." Ziva told me and then was echoed by a few similar farewells.

"Thanks for visiting," I told them with a weak smile. On Gibbs' way out I gave him a curt nod that meant so much more than most people could express with thousands of words. The corner of Gibbs' mouth quirked up then he returned it.

"You did good, DiNozzo."

**Thank you to everyone who read this! It has been a great pleasure and if anyone has any idea for my next story I am open to suggestions. Reviews are AMAZING!**


End file.

NCIS, Hurt-Comfort