A/N: A piece I began to write when feeling a bit down, and completed recently. Was intended to be a oneshot, but may be carried on...

NCIS and all of the characters belong to Donald P. Bellisario - I just like to torture them :D


Alone in the Dark

Blearily, he struggled to open his weary eyes even a fraction. Instantly, he was bombarded with pain, shooting mercilessly through every part of his body. A small cry escaped him, as he tried desperately to remember what had happened the night before; what he had done to be in so much agony. But, try as he might, he could not remember a thing.

Forcing his tired eyes open, and wishing that his hands were free so that he could rub the sleep from them, he looked around him, trying to find some hint as to where he was and what was going on, but there was nothing. He was surrounded by darkness.

His wrists were burning, and he could feel blood trickling between his fingers. Ropes cut deeply into his flesh, hurting with every slight movement, blistering the skin. A small whimper escaped him as he tried to shift his weight slightly, allowing some blood to flow back into his legs.

Above him he could hear a noise as a door creaked open, followed by quiet footsteps, ringing on the cold, concrete floor. Tensing all of his muscles, he strained his eyes in a vain attempt to see who it was, but it was hopeless. The darkness in the room was absolute.

The footsteps got closer. After what felt like forever, they stopped, seemingly right in front of him. There was a rustling of clothes as the figure, no more than a faint silhouette now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, crouched before him, at what he presumed was eye-level. Warm, rank breath smothered his bruised face, the putrid smell choking him, forcing bile up his throat. Closing his eyes and trying to turn away, he heard a low, faint chuckle that echoed off the concrete walls of his prison, and quiet whispering…

He froze.

Everything came back to him.

-- Flashback --

Gibbs was in interrogation, questioning a young man, a Petty Officer, of his connection with several young naval officers who had gone missing in the past couple of days. All of the men had headed off to work in the morning, yet none had ever arrived. This man was the only connection between them all. Things were just starting to get intense.

"Where are they, Petty Officer Cullen?" Gibbs practically roared his question; days of digging and investigating had led him to this pitiful excuse for a human, shacked up in his apartment, hiding from the cops but not bagging on the determination of his team to have him arrested and questioned. That had been a few hours ago; since then he had been sitting and waiting in Interrogation Room 1, sweating, fearing his imminent meeting with the Boss. The man had had enough time to stew.

"I- I don't know, sir…" The trembling Petty Officer stuttered in reply, but the man on the other side of the glass could tell that Gibbs didn't believe him and, to be honest, neither did he. The man had a wild look in his eyes, a look that contradicted his plea of innocence. The silver-haired man slammed his hands onto the interrogation table. Hard. He spoke in a low, dangerous voice.

"We have four naval officers missing, and they all happen to be your 'friends', regardless to the fact that neither their wives nor colleagues had ever heard of you. On top of all that, we have your fingerprint in one the officer's cars, which he was driving to work when he went missing!" He paused, before asking angrily, "do you take me for an idiot?" The Petty Officer stared at the ex-marine in what looked, briefly, like fear. But his expression began to quickly change. A dark sneer began to grow on his face.

"You'll never find them alive, Agent Gibbs. Never. Now, I want my lawyer."

He clammed up after that, saying nothing more, but at least they had an idea what was going on now. It took several hours after that but, finally, they found the missing men. They were alive and well, regardless to their ordeal, and discovered in an abandoned warehouse only a few miles from the base at which three of them worked

It had been a long day.

"Go home, sleep." It wasn't a request, and to be honest he'd been exhausted, so he wasn't about to complain. After all, he could deal with the paperwork tomorrow, right? So, he headed home for the night.

Or, at least, he tried.

-- End Flashback --

The figure was still there, breathing heavily, pungently, into his face. His eyes had adjusted better now; that and the reasoning that someone would have to be very strong to abduct him led him to the conclusion that it was a man. Albeit, one with very poor hygiene. Shifting his weight again, he looked around the room as best he could with the next to non-existent level of light. There wasn't much; blank, grey walls, with no personal effects, and a metal door. Nothing to help him figure out who this person was in front of him.

After what felt like hours, the man pushed himself to his feet, still chuckling quietly beneath his breath. With a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, he watched as the shadowy figure made his way back to the door. Opening it, a slim beam of light shone into the room and with it a faint hope. That vanished the moment it was slammed shut, and it took all of his will not to break down then and there. Desperately, he tried to focus on other thoughts. Shifting through his tumultuous mind, he suddenly felt a deep anger burning within him.

His car!

That bastard. He remembered it all now. He remembered Gibbs ordering to go home, to sleep. He remembered going into the NCIS car park, starting up his beauty and making his way down the almost abandoned road. He remembered…

That bastard standing in the road. The sound of his horn still rang in his ears, but he hadn't moved, standing there stoically, a faint smile on his face.

I should have run him over…

Damn his instinctive reactions. Thanks to them, his car was now wrecked in a ditch, he was in complete agony and nobody would even know he was gone until…

Until when? He didn't even know what time it was. For all he knew, it could have been days since the crash. Yeah! That's right, and they'd all be out looking for him, and they would have found his car by now too…

Or maybe it's only been a couple of hours and, if that's the case, it'll be ages until I don't turn up at work and they realise that I'm gone.

He began to curse his rationality, hating himself for this logical thinking, crushing the few hopes he had. Deciding that he had to do something to stop him going completely insane in his own company, he attempted to find out exactly what was wrapped around his wrists, but it was hopeless. Whatever the man had used, it was wrapped so tightly behind his back that he was unable to see. Inwardly he cursed himself. How had he managed to get himself into this situation? Hell! He didn't even know why the man had abducted him in the first place. Unless…

Damn.

--

He didn't know how much time had passed since he'd realised. It was still almost pitch-black in his prison cell and, due to the amount of blood he'd lost from the injuries he'd sustained in the car crash, he was beginning to feel rather light headed. He just hoped that he didn't have any internal injuries; the last thing he needed was to die from injuries he couldn't even see.

I should have worked on that hunch…

When they'd been investigating the disappearance of the men, and name had popped up through one of their enquiries. Although the man was initially a suspect, they hadn't been able to locate him, and they'd soon been led onto Petty Officer Cullen. After that, things had moved so fast that he'd simply been forgotten.

David Jones.

Apparently he, like Cullen, had known all of the men who'd vanished, but once they'd caught their man, he'd been effectively forgotten. Not completely, though; he had a good idea that Gibbs was going to chase up after him. He always stayed at work until late, and his famous gut had been bugging him since Cullen's arrest and the men's discovery.

I just hope he realises…

He flinched as he heard the metal door swing open again, and prepared himself for Jones' arrival. Leaning forward slightly, he could see the man once again crouch down before him. Instead of chuckling this time, he spoke.

"I guess I should welcome you to my home, Special Agent." He drawled, malice dripping from his tongue. "Unfortunately, you won't be welcome for much longer, not that you'll care by then." He whispered something into the agent's ear. Shock rippled through his body.

Because you'll be dead…

He hoped they came soon.

--

The man had left a while ago, and he was becoming desperate now. Pulling at the binds around his wrist, he paid no heed to the shooting pain, wracking his entire body. Catching something in the corner of his eye, he instinctively cowered but, for some reason, felt the urge to look at whatever it was. Tentatively, ignoring the ache in his neck, he turned his head.

Oh great, now I'm hallucinating too…

Perched on an invisible chair at the other end of the room sat Kate, staring at him, worry etched in her face.

Hang in there, Tony…Her voice sounded as though it were coming from a great distance, although she seemed to be so close. He tried to respond, but his mouth was dry from dehydration, and his throat ached due to unseen bruises.

They're coming to save you…

He looked at her, the expression on her face, and felt a sudden pang of loss. Kate had been like a sister to him.

God, I miss you, Kate.

She looked at him intently.

I miss you too, DiNozzo. He smiled faintly, not at all perturbed by the fact that she seemed to be reading his mind.

Looks like I'll be joining you soon anyways. She narrowed her ethereal eyes at him.

No you won't Tony. Listen. Can you hear that? Like I said, they've come to save you. Faintly, he could hear shouting, and he flinched as he heard the recognisable sound of a gunshot. The shouting began to get closer and closer. Kate began to fade.

You can't leave me Katie. Please… He begged, but she just smiled at him, and then…

Then she was gone. The door was propelled open, slamming against the concrete wall. The sudden light from the hallway almost blinded him. The people in the doorway rushed over to him.

"DiNozzo! Oh shit…" He could hear Gibbs' recognizable voice above all of the others. "Ziva, make sure we got everyone. McGee, call an ambulance and wait outside for it." The urgency in his voice shocked Tony; he'd never heard it so clearly before. The ex-marine leaned down towards his face. His eyes flickered open.

"H-he-ya bo-oss man…" He couldn't manage anymore, his voice cracking and the agony in his limbs more painful than ever. He felt strong hands gently lay him on his side, and heard the click of a penknife as he got to work cutting the binds around his wrists.

"Don't worry DiNozzo. I'm here now." Gibbs spoke softly, and a faint smile graced Tony's lips. In the corner of the room, he could see Kate; not completely gone yet, but so faint that even he struggled to focus. She smiled at him, an 'I told you so' look in her eyes. Resisting the urge to stick his tongue out at her, she finally faded into nothing. Closing his eyes once more, he began to think, and realised that he was glad that Kate had been right.

He wasn't ready to die just yet.


A/N: Well, there we are! Same as usual; please read and review!