Breaking Down

"James Duncan; white supremacist and neo-Nazi. He used to be a member of the KKK before leaving to form his own extremist group – they target African Americans and immigrants. He's been arrested for assault twice, but got off both times. He's slippery – careful and with an expensive lawyer, who he can afford thanks to his large inheritance. If his group got its hands on a bomb it would be bad news – he's the sort of guy who would happily use it." McGee briefed Tony. They were standing in observation, Gibbs and Ziva glaring at the man in interrogation as though trying to hurt him with their minds. "We got him by running the image you came up with against all our databases – this was an okay match, and since he was an extremist we brought him in." McGee continued, looking nervously over at Tony, who was pale and sweaty. Tony didn't say anything.

"You know him, Dinozzo?" Gibbs looked up at Tony, concerned about his agent's silence. Tony was rarely silent; it was a sign something was wrong.

"Sure. He's a real bastard." Tony fought to keep control over himself, but he was starting to lose the battle. "I'm sorry boss. I need a minute." He finally managed to say, before rushing out of the observation room.

McGee looked like he didn't quite know what to do. So he looked at Gibbs. Gibbs always had the answers. Ziva walked towards the door to follow Tony, but Gibbs pulled her back.

"Let me talk to him. I can be gentle." Ziva justified.

"He doesn't need someone to be gentle. He needs to get his head on straight." Gibbs stated, before going out to follow Tony himself. He'd had enough of Tony trying to play tough and refusing to be open with him; he knew Tony had talked to Ziva, but he still did that without letting his guard down completely. Gibbs knew that right now, if anyone else attempted to talk to him, Tony would just change the subject. Tony was hurting, and trying to act like he wasn't.

Out in the corridor, Tony attempted to steady his breathing. It seemed like he was spending a lot of time in corridors trying to stay calm these days. He almost had a grip, when he suddenly thought about the man inside the interrogation room again; a memory engulfed him.

"Special Agent Dinozzo. I have some questions I hope you can answer." James Duncan spoke softly but threateningly.

"And I hope that I get a home cinema for Christmas, doesn't mean I get it." Tony sniggered. He couldn't help but be antagonising – after all, the only real alternative was to be cooperative, and he would die before that happened. He might die before that happened.

For the last few days Tony had been left completely alone. There hadn't even been any sound of Omar or his friends. This happened a fair amount, and in a way it was worse than the beatings – isolation was difficult to cope with for someone like Tony. But now he was craving the previous quiet after a new man had come to 'chat'. Tony was hanging from the ceiling, suspended by his arms. It was painful for his already bruised wrists. The man, James, pulled out a long piece of wire, and Tony knew what was coming next. In a way he was relieved – he didn't think he could stand another beating. He suppressed a wince as he remembered his broken ribs from one of Omar's rages. They were still healing up.

James started to ask questions and Tony shut his eyes, trying to think about something else. His mind settled on Ziva; he often thought of her at the moment. Then he felt the wire cutting into his back, hard. The strike had hurt a surprising amount. Tony made sure he didn't show his pain on his face – he blocked it out with thoughts of Ziva. He heard the man ask him a question, but he tried not to listen and just ignored him completely. James began to get angry about Tony's lack of response, shouting at him to try and make him pay attention. James stopped pausing between hits – soon Tony could feel the wire breaking the skin and blood dripping down his back. But the man didn't stop, he kept on going and Tony couldn't keep the moans of pain in any longer. Eventually James grew tired, but instead of cutting him down he left Tony hanging there, blood running down and pooling onto the floor.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours – I gotta break for lunch for a while. Let's see how cooperative you are then." The man sniggered cruelly.

The second time was much worse. He'd been hanging by his wrists for hours, and the welts had started to close up, the blood congealing. His whole back was burning and throbbing. The wire buried into the welts, opening them up again, causing almost unbearable pain. Tony started screaming uncontrollably, his whole body arching forwards with every blow. Tony wished he would just pass out, but his pain threshold had got so high that he was forced to stay conscious. Every time he felt like he was fading out, James would stop and throw water in his face. Soon he couldn't even scream, he just hung there, moaning in agony, each strike blending into one mass of pain. When James left him alone again, knowing that there was no point carrying on if Tony could barely talk, Tony finally lost some of his control and started to struggle against his chains desperately. He didn't know how much more he could take…

"Dinozzo. Snap out of it." Gibbs had his arms around Tony, who had sunk to the floor. Tony failed to school his expression and hide his pain. "Don't keep it all in." Gibbs advised. He could see his senior field agent wasn't comfortable in a public place, so he pulled him back into an empty interrogation room.

"You want to tell me what that was about?"

"It's nothing." Tony said quickly. Then he looked at Gibbs face and conceded. "That man just, well he kind of got to me a bit."

"What did he do?" Gibbs looked angry, but not at Tony.

"I don't want to think about it." Tony said, trying to end the conversation.

"No. You want to talk about it." Gibbs dismissed his agent's evasiveness.

"I guess." Tony supposed it was true, keeping everything inside was exhausting. "It just makes me feel weak, admitting that he…" Tony tailed off, unable to complete his sentence.

"You're not weak, Tony. Not many people can bounce back from this sort of thing. Nobody can come out unscathed." Gibbs sighed. He was talking "We need to know what he did to you, so we can charge him. And you can't just talk about this with me, you're gonna have to go through it again with other people. Maybe even in court."

"I don't know if I can boss." Tony sounded vulnerable.

"You have too. Because I know you want this guy to go down, and for a long time." Gibbs said firmly.

"He hung me from a ceiling and whipped me. Repeatedly." Tony whispered, so low Gibbs could hardly hear it. "He just kept going, and I was screaming. And I couldn't make myself pass out." Tony was shaking, his voice starting to crack. "Oh God." And then Tony broke down and started sobbing; once he started he just couldn't stop. Gibbs sat down and let Tony put his head onto his shoulder and bury his face in his shirt.

"Let it all out Dinozzo…" Gibbs muttered comfortingly. For the first time after the kidnapping, Tony did. He shed the tears he had kept in during his captivity, let out all the damage he had hidden for months. He went through everything that had happened in his mind, like watching one of the movies he loved so much. He remembered James and his cold wire, his first major interrogation session with proper questioning – until then he had only been beaten every couple of days, and thought that had been bad. He remembered the hours of dread waiting for James to return again, feeling his back turn into meaty flesh, the wave of pain from every stroke that cut into it. He remembered Omar laughing when he saw the damage, his medic friend throwing alcohol over the wounds and wrenching Tony back from near sleep with a sudden, lurched, scream. He remembered the first time with electricity and his amazement at how much it hurt every part of him, how much he had pointlessly strained just to try to stop the pain. He remembered the throbbing and searing agony from every cut and burn, every savage kick. He remembered the boredom and loneliness – the hours spent lying uncomfortably on the hard container floor unable to build up the strength to even move. The effort it took just to face his captors every morning with a smile to persuade them that they hadn't got to him; would never break him.

It took a long time for Tony to calm down.

"Sorry boss." Tony looked down and saw through red, bleary eyes that he had soaked Gibbs shirt with his tears. "I look like such a sissy. I never cry."

Gibbs gave him a light head slap, before ruffling his hair affectionately.

"What was that for?" Tony murmured.

"For calling yourself a sissy." Gibbs muttered. "Don't do it again."

"I feel a lot better now." Tony finally answered. It was true. He felt like a great weight had been lifted from around his neck. He had finally begun to accept what had happened to him, instead of just blocking it out.

"You're probably going to have to go through this in front of a jury." Gibbs told him, as he stood up slightly shakily. "Will you be able to handle that?"

"Sure thing boss." Tony pulled himself together and straightened his tie, checking his dishevelled reflection and trying to look presentable.

"Okay. Then let's go. I need coffee."

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