Author's Note: Hello! It has been an awful long time since I posted anything so here we go. I actually started this during this past hiatus before Cote's decision was announced but usually I would have stuck with canon and went with Bishop. I have a feeling most of you won't mind Ziva being here ;)

Warning: No major warnings or spoilers. I will say up front that this story has a lot of stuff in it that I had to research (medical, mechanical, drugs...) because I know nothing about most of that. I'm sure anyone who does will find errors but my goal was to be believable, if nothing else. So hopefully none of it sounds too far-fetched and just know that I did enough research on questionable topics that the government probably has me pegged. I figured I needed to hurry up and post this to prove my innocence ;)

Also, there is no romance in this story. I don't do romance and ships, but I LOVE some good old fashioned focus on the team dynamic. So that's about it. I actually have the whole story written out so updates shouldn't be too far apart.

That's about it. So I hope you guys enjoy and if you have a moment, feed my addiction and leave a comment. Regardless, thank you either way and have a lovely day!

The Basement - Chapter One

Chaos.

That was his reality, whatever reality actually was. He could feel hands on him; he could feel pain and heard shouts. But they were all so far away. Where was he? Who was he? Those were the questions that ran circles around his mind, begging to be answered but never coming close enough to catch.

He suddenly found himself underwater, suspended in time as giant squid enveloped him in their tentacles, pushing their way through his ears and squirming around his brain. He could feel it. Every centimeter. He wanted to breathe clearly, wanted the squid to disappear and never come back.

He tried to open his eyes but blinding light flooded his brain and pushed the tentacles ever deeper, the pain of their intrusion amplifying tenfold. He tried to scream but felt them constrict around his throat until he could no longer breathe at all.

The squid were shouting now, screaming at him in some indistinguishable language. He wanted them to stop, wanted to be gone entirely. He wondered why he didn't just drown and even welcomed the idea whole-heartedly. Anything was better than this.

As the sea placed unbearable pressure on him and tossed him around like a helpless ship in a storm, a solitary thought – a moment of clarity – infiltrated the war that was raging in his scattered mind. Tony. His name was Tony and he was an NCIS agent. He tried desperately to hold onto that thought, knowing that it was a small light in the shadows that consumed him, but it was lost as quickly as it was gained. With one last attempt at a decent breath, the man named Tony willed himself to be done entirely and slipped away into the darkest depths of the ocean.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs watched helplessly through the glass window as his Senior Field Agent fought against the swarm of medical personnel who were trying to help him. Gibbs had tried to offer his assistance as well but had ultimately been forced to leave the room before he had been able to do anything. A part of him believed he could calm Tony down while a more knowledgeable voice in his head assured him that Tony was currently beyond Gibbs' help.

He watched as DiNozzo's body continued to contract and pull against his restraints, seemingly engaging in battle with an enemy that did not exist. He felt his own stomach clench tighter when one of the younger agent's monitors began wailing, which sent the doctors into even more of a frenzy. At least he wasn't struggling so much anymore, Gibbs thought despairingly.

It was as though time stood still as the professionals eventually got their patient stabilized and the turmoil died down. Gibbs felt himself release the air that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and closed his exhausted eyes.

How had things gone so wrong?

He told himself not to think about it and instead focused on his agents. They needed him and they especially needed him to be strong. There were still more questions than answers but, for the time being, his team remained whole.

"He's still in surgery," a voice belonging to his one and only uninjured agent informed him solemnly. He turned to see Ziva standing behind him, her eyes laced with deep concern as they remained glued to her partner inside the room. He noticed that she, like Gibbs himself, was still wearing the dried blood of their wounded teammate on her clothing and even some in her hair. He would tell her about that later.

"How is Tony?"

Gibbs sighed and tried to decide how to answer that. Observing his sweaty, unconscious agent once again, he replied the only way he knew how: "He's alive."

"Small favors, yes?" she lamented, turning from the window and crossing her arms tightly around her. "Have you heard from Balboa?"

Gibbs shook his head and wondered if his place should be back at the crime scene, trying to find answers that could help Tony. "No sign of what they put in his system."

Ziva remained quiet for a moment and Gibbs assumed she, too, had nothing more to say. When it came down to it, he had one agent blatantly on the brink of death and the other doped up so high on some unknown drug that he wouldn't even know his ass from his head. He suddenly felt like breaking something; he had failed his agents, plain and simple. He had sent them into an ambush of psychopaths who clearly happened to know a little something about manufacturing drugs and the art of torture.

The worst part was, Gibbs really had no idea what his agents had gone through. He knew the outcome, but for almost an hour, they had seemingly been at the mercy of two madmen who, for some unknown reason, seemed to harbor a serious grudge against all things Navy. Frankly, Gibbs couldn't decide who got the worst end of the deal: McGee with three bullets in him or Tony who was reduced to a squirming, spastic heap of pain and muscle.

"At least those cowards will not hurt anyone else," Ziva breathed silently, her back facing Tony who was still firmly unconscious and being poked and prodded by his medical team.

Yes, Gibbs thought to himself, the scumbags were dead. He had killed one himself while Ziva had taken the other. But even that moment was little to celebrate given the sight that greeted them upon entering the building and killing the perps. Without a doubt, that moment would be added to a set of memories that would forever plague his darkest moments.

ONE HOUR EARLIER

Gibbs felt his stomach constrict painfully as they pulled up to the house belonging to one Andrew Jaffe and saw the government issued vehicle sitting in the driveway. It was an area known for terrible cell reception and an odd mixture of the wealthy elite and the lowest scum of the earth. He imagined it was due to the secluded nature of the highly separated homes and the feeling that you were, largely, alone with the rolling hills that surrounded. It was the perfect little town to disappear and relax or else escape the scrutiny of nosy eyes.

Needless to say, not hearing from Tony or Tim for an hour had unsettled him slightly but hadn't necessarily set off any major alarms. Still, the feeling in his gut had continued to grow as the time passed until he finally told Ziva to grab her things and off they went.

Andrew Jaffe hadn't even been a suspect, just someone who may have seen the murder of a petty officer from Iowa, so he had sent Tony and McGee to get a statement when all other leads ran cold. Now, as he looked at the decent looking home that was barely visible due to large trees and plants, he couldn't help but feel like he had made a very big mistake.

Ziva clearly felt the same way as she was already out of the vehicle, gun in hand. Gibbs followed suit and together, they made their way up to the front door but before they had a chance to knock or bust the damn thing down, a yell echoed through the air followed by a gunshot.

As adrenaline flooded his veins and sent him into a methodical fit of rage, Gibbs kicked open the door and they stormed the house, clearing each corner as quickly as possible. As they rounded a corner, a door towards the back of the house flew open and out popped a man yielding a gun, firing rapidly towards them. Gibbs dived behind the sofa and sent a few shots but it was Ziva who had looped through the kitchen and snuck up on the man, shooting him in the back of the head.

Gibbs had seen it coming and was already running towards the open door leading to what he assumed was the basement. About halfway down the staircase, more deafening gunshots echoed through the home and sent wood splinters flying from the steps just below his feet. Knowing he couldn't leave the basement now, he leapt over the handrail and landed down amongst some boxes. With Ziva now keeping the shooter's attention as she made her way down the stairs, Gibbs had the perfect opportunity edge around the staircase and sent two bullets into the perp's chest.

It was only when the man hit the ground that Gibbs realized Tony had been yelling the whole time, rocking the chair he was bound to as he fought desperately against his restraints. As Ziva ensured the gunman was disarmed and dead, Gibbs focused his attention on his youngest agent who, also tied to a chair, had dark red stains spreading on his once white shirt and pants leg. Gibbs counted at least three gunshots and hoped that was where it stopped.

"Ziva, call 911!" Gibbs demanded before glancing around the room long enough to find what he was looking for. He pointed to a countertop where a phone sat. "Land line, there!"

Ziva nodded and barreled toward the phone and completed her task. Gibbs, still hearing Tony yell incoherently, deemed McGee to be in most danger and quickly untied his restraints. Without warning, Tim lurched forward but Gibbs was able to catch him and lower him gently to the ground before applying pressure to the two wounds in his chest and stomach area.

"Ziva, tie off his leg!" he ordered when he realized she was off the phone. Ziva pulled off her jacket in one swift move and began creating a tourniquet out of it in an effort to slow the bleeding in Tim's leg. At the same time, Gibbs dug his hands harder onto the wounds, which effectively woke the younger agent up. He coughed and tried to breathe, though it was extremely labored.

"B-Boss," Tim choked out eventually, his eyes swimming as he tried to focus. "Tony."

Though Gibbs could barely hear it over the continued shouting from his SFA, Gibbs leaned down closer to McGee.

"Dr-drugged," he continued, followed by a coughing fit that left droplets of blood sprinkled around his mouth.

"Gibbs," he heard Ziva say in a dark voice, but he ignored her. He knew the situation was bad but nothing was final. Gibbs pressed his hands even harder when he felt them begin to slide around in the warm blood.

"Don't worry, Tim," Gibbs assured him as best he could. "You're going to be fine. You both will."

He was vaguely aware of Ziva now talking to Tony whose incoherent shouts had become fewer and fewer. As much as that alarmed him, he was also relieved; the situation was stressful enough without Tony's pained, mindless screams. Hopefully, the mellowing out meant DiNozzo was just calming down. When he glanced behind him to see what was going on, he realized Ziva was starting to untie him.

"Leave them on!" Gibbs ordered, hating his own words but knowing it was for the best until help arrived. They had no idea what was in DiNozzo's system and Gibbs knew all too well how a single substance could turn even the most mild-mannered man into a supercharged monster. When he looked back down at McGee, Gibbs felt his stomach do summersaults when he realized the younger man's eyes were closed. "Tim, hey Tim! Look at me."

He saw green eyes between slits moving slowly before they widened and found Gibbs again.

"You're going to be fine, you understand?" he said, his own hands and arms now feeling numb. "Do you understand?!"

Tim coughed again but nodded ever so slightly as his eyelids drooped. Gibbs wanted to pop the younger man's face but with both hands being used for very important tasks, he ended up just pressing harder.

"Dammit, McGee," he growled. "Stay awake! Ziva!"

Seconds later, she was by his side, awaiting further instruction. Somewhere in the background, he could hear voices and footsteps above them and also realized that Tony was now sobbing and repeating the words, "he's dead" and "they're dead" over and over again. And as much as he hated leaving the young man alone in his drug-addled state, if Tim didn't get help and fast, he was going to die.

"Put your hands on this one," Gibbs instructed before lifting his right hand and using it to reinforce the other wound. Now, with Ziva close enough to Tim's ear, she had quickly begun saying what Gibbs assumed was a prayer in Hebrew and offering soothing tones. Somewhere in his mind, Gibbs knew she was trying to offer some comfort to her friend in his moments of dying, but he refused to think that way and would head-slap Ziva into the next millennium if she had given up hope.

As McGee struggled to stay awake, Gibbs noticed that his eyes kept wandering over to Tony's wailing form.

"He'll be okay, Tim," Gibbs reassured, hoping that was a true statement. "You will be, too."

But, in the next moment, Tim's eyes finally closed and stayed that way just as the paramedics rushed in and took over. After a brief moment of shock as he watched the men work on Tim, Gibbs regained composure and rushed over to Tony. After having the man violently pull away from Gibbs' hand on his cheek, Gibbs decided that he wouldn't push physical contact.

Apart from the large quantities of sweat covering every visible inch of him, his senior field agent also seemed to have more strength than usual. He continued to jump and spin his chair around, trying to break free.

"Tony!" Gibbs yelled, but it only made DiNozzo struggle harder and scream louder.

"What's wrong with him!?" Ziva called, her eyes wide with worry.

Gibbs shook his head and realized that Tim was now being taken up the stairs on a stretcher. Deciding he should stay with Tony, they waited until two new medics rushed back down. After Gibbs explained that their new patient was a tortured NCIS agent, they immediately put a syringe into Tony's neck. Within seconds, DiNozzo's movements became less pronounced and his shouting died down, but it did not knock him out.

"That's as good as it's gonna get," one of the men yelled quickly. "Help me get him up."

Together they unbounded the agent and, with the four of them keeping his flailing limbs from causing any major damage, managed to get Tony into the second ambulance which quickly sped off.

After a millisecond of staring off at the ambulances disappearing into the hills, Gibbs was awoken by Ziva shouting his name.

As more and more police cars began pulling up, Gibbs briefly considered staying behind a little longer but ultimately decided against it; he would just call Vance and let him know what happened to the best of his knowledge. Without further hesitation, he joined Ziva in the car and they sped off after the ambulances, both trying to stomach everything they had just seen and praying to find better news when they arrived at the hospital.

End Note: That was that. Thank you for reading and hope you come back for more. Have a blessed day/night!