HI this is my first fanfic guys, so please please please give me loads of reviews, I need all the help I can get.

For my friends, the ones who persduaded me to get this account. Yes, you.

-Slayer

Chapter 1

Tony DiNozzo was having a birthday party later that evening.

The preparation that he was prepared to give included and was limited to baking (well, buying) a cake, and setting the table. It wasn't his fault he was having a party, after all. But "the team" had insisted. And so, they were providing the food.

He dropped the cheap-ass chocolate mud on the counter, still in its plastic bag, and went to watch TV. He knew they wouldn't be long- he was back late, due to rush hour traffic, and Abby had set the time as 6:30pm. It was now 6:15.

He heard the door quietly open. His hand went to the place his gun would usually hang, just on reflex. It wasn't there, of course. He preferred to go unarmed in the apartment.

He checked the time- 6:20. They were early. He turned the TV up.

And felt the hairs prick up on the back of his spine.

There was someone behind him.

Just then, a hand came around from behind and covered his mouth. A man's hand, calloused.

"Happy birthday, Anthony."

And everything went black.

Abby peered around the door. The hallway was empty.

"Come on," she whispered to the others.

"Hmph," said Gibbs, hating the sneaking and creeping. "Why do we have to surprise him? He knows we're coming."

He was, of course, too manly to do something that a 5-year-old girl would do for a friend. Abby could tell, however, that he was secretly hoping that he would really be able to sneak up on DiNozzo. That would be manly.

The TV was blaring as they snuck down the hall, past the door to the kitchen. The door to the living and dining room was at the end of the hall. Abby looked through the doorway, past the half-open door.

Something was wrong.

She looked behind her, at McGee. "There's no-one there," she hissed.

He frowned, and opened the door fully. The room was empty. The lights were all on, but there was nobody home.

"What happened?" he asked Gibbs, unconsciously looking to the senior officer for guidance.

Gibbs was frowning. "Spread out. Check the rooms. He could just be doing some prank and about to jump out and surprise us."

Ziva nodded, and went to check the bathroom.

But after they'd checked all the rooms, there was still no-one there.

Abby sat down on the couch. She was completely and utterly confused. "He couldn't have just forgotten, could he?"

"No, I don't think he's just out," Gibbs said. "There's no sign of a struggle, but my gut tells me he should be here. There's something we don't know."

"But… But it's his birthday," said Abby. "Surely nothing would happen to him now."

But just then, the TV flicked off. The sudden absence of sound made them all look at its former source.

Then the black screen flickered to an image of a man tied to a chair. A trail of blood was dried on his face from a vicious head wound to the top of his skull.

Abby gasped. She could feel the tension in the air thicken, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

The man in the chair was Tony.

"Did you really think that you could have a happy birthday?" asked the man. Tony could tell he was behind him, slightly to his left.

"My son wasn't allowed to have a happy birthday. Why should you?" asked the man. Tony felt him moving to the left.

Suddenly the man was right in front of him, his alcohol-scented breath blowing warm in his face.

"I bet you don't even remember it. Just a routine bust, was it? Just another drug smuggler bringing his wares onto the docks? He wasn't just anybody. He was my boy. And I swear, I will make you pay for what you did to him. You will suffer for every moment of life you took away from him until when I finally kill you, you'll be begging for the end you gave to my Mikey. I. will. Hear. Your. Screams."

This last was punctuated by a punch to the mouth. Spitting blood in what he hoped was the man's direction, Tony said "I swear I have no idea what you are talking about."

"That doesn't matter to me, boy. What matters to me is that I know you did it."

"Have a happy birthday, Anthony."

Gibbs watched in a detached kind of way as Tony was hauled up by the wrists and tied to a pipe projecting from the ceiling. The dark haired man who had been talking to Tony had retreated to the shadows, replaced by two men who were now fixing DiNozzo's legs, which had been swinging off the ground, to an iron loop that had been screwed to the concrete floor. They appeared to be armed with cricket bats.

No prizes for guessing why.

"Bats," said Tony. "How original of you."

That was all he got out before the blows hit.

They were hard enough, at the start, to cause severe bruising, but no pain. But those starting blows were just an appetizer- an excruciatingly painful appetizer at that.

They started on his legs. He felt his body wanting to move to the side, away from the blows, but they were on both sides, coming faster and faster, and he was tied immobile like a pig for slaughter. They were on the brink of breaking bones now- then one hit his kneecap from the way it isn't supposed to bend-

The sickening Crack of bone split the air-

They hit him in the stomach now, winding him, he fought for breath, and more cracks filled the air as they hit his ribs, and they were flying now, the pain was all over and his arms were hit and they broke and bent in ways that they shouldn't be-

And he felt himself wanting to cry out for Ziva, for Gibbs, McGee, Anyone to please, please stop it as his arms, broken, stretched with his weight on them, but he wouldn't let a sound pass his lips, that was what he wanted, and the man in the cell was laughing-

And it stopped.

The beating stopped.

The men put down their cricket bats and surveyed the damage. Then one walked around behind him and picked something up.

A line of liquid fire opened up on his back.

The snap of a whip ripped the air in half.

The beating continued afresh and Tony found himself blacking out, that light in the back of his head saying, alright, that's enough for now, and the last things he heard before his eyes closed were-

"Happy birthday, dear Anthony, happy birthday to you…"

And as Ziva watched Tony hurting, she felt a single tear slide down her cheek.