A/N- Okay, I am sooooo sorry that i haven't posted in forever! I went on vacation. and then I had writers block, which i still kinda have. Ask Lynnbin101, I complain to her about it every day. Then I got busy pretending to study for finals. So I hope you like.

WARNING- THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH CHILD ABUSE, NOTHING GRAPHIC, BUT ALL THE SAME, I FELT I SHOULD TELL YOU.

Present

"Ziva, I'm sorry." Ziva looked confused.

"I love you." Still she looked puzzeled.

"This is my fault." She shook her head in denial of the statement, but didn't try to convince DiNozzo otherwise. Maybe it was his past, but Tony had managed to build up a talent for blaming everthing on himself. If she told him that he was wrong, that in fact it was Leon's fault, or Director David's fault, or even her damn fault, it would only serve to more firmly convince him that he was to blame. The two lapsed into silence.

"Tell me what it was like." Ziva asked out of the blue, minutes later.

"What, what was like Zee-Vah?" He asked in a flirting tone, trying to abandon the previous conversation.

"What it was like being a young, rich, non-disowned Anthony DiNozzo."

"Why do you want to know that?" Tony demanded. Knowing that he would have to strengthen the walls that surrounded his psyche if he wanted to escape this conversation unscathed.

'That is highly unlikely.' he thought to himself. Ziva sighed. DiNozzo was getting offensive, as he always did when he was forced to remove his masks, and not cover his feelings with a movie quote and sarcasm.

"I want to know because I love you too!" Ziva said, her voice rising and filling with unshed tears. "I care about you and I want to know why you wear the masks that you do! I want to know who I am laying in bed with!" She was almost yelling now.

"If you mean that you want to know who your getting into bed with, " DiNozzo gave a sharp, humorless laugh, "Then I think it is a little late for that question." Irony was thickly layered into his words. A tear slipped down Ziva's eye and down her face. Tony's cruel sarcas, cut her to the bone. Seeing this, DiNozzo's mask of indifference fell away. All that was left was a scared, scarred man, hut more than anyone should be.

"You don't want to know." The truth as he saw it.

"Yes Tony, I want to. I want to know the man I love." Ziva's voice was quiet now. Trying, not in vain she knew, to convince Tony to be honest with her. Tony's eyes closed as he delved into the world of memories he had tried so hard to surpress. It was odd for him to be going there willingly, against the grain. The only time he ever visited the Palace of Memories was when he went to sleep, and the cries escaped from his lips. He needed now, phisicaly and mentally, to give Ziva what she wanted. He could deny her nothing.

Twenty-Seven Years Ago

The young boy ran through the house, mindful of the antiques in the hallway around him. He was a lanky child, good in sports, with brown hair and brilliant green eyes that changed with his mood. For the moment, they were a shinning shade of emerald.

"Anthony! Stop your running around!" A harsh voice cut the air and Anthony froze mid-step. Silently putting his foot down, emotions flitted across the young boy's face. The happiness that was there minutes before had fled, replaced with a rapid change from resentment, to anger, to ironic pleasure, where it finally settled. A run in with a drunk, angry father had been part of Anthony's plans for the beautiful summer day. He loved the attention, if the only time it was given was when he was being punished, then so be it. He began to back slowly down the hall, praying that his father would not resume his drinking in the study. Lady Luck was on his side today.

"Anthony, did I dismiss you?" Came the call from a few steps down the hall. The boy flinched, he much prefered being called Tony. Said child stopped backing away.

"No Sir." He said, his voice steady and holding more than a tint of rebelion.

"Then why are you leaving?" Tony cursed the elder DiNozzo's perfect hearing. "Enter. Pick up the pace. Come on boy, I haven't got all day to deal with you!" Anthony Senior ordered. Young Tony did as he was told, defiantly, proudly, accepting the punishment that was given. It had been worth it, thought he couldn't sit for a week. For a few minutes of his father's attention, the boy would accept ant punishment that was given.

Present

Tony didn't know how much he had said out loud. But judging by the tears running down Ziva's face, he guessed most of it.

"I was eleven at the time, and I had already figured out that if I wanted my dad to notice me, then I would have to get into trouble." Tony said, his tone bitter, covering the pain he felt with resentment. He did a damn good job of it too. Looking at him,you would have seen only a glowering, angry man. Ziva saw past his facade, though. She saw the hot knives burning at the flesh and soul f his heart. She saw how much it hurt him. And Ziva realized where every scream came from, when DiNozzo was asleep, and she knew that the same screams and images that haunted Tony would also torture her when she closed her eyes. They were the cries that DiNozzo did not release as a child, to proud to give his father the satisfaction of hearing him break down, even though he wanted the pain and attention.

Ziva clenched her fists more tightly on the arms of the chair, so much so that her knuckles were burning white. She vowed that is she ever met the elder Anthony DiNozzo in a dark alley, or anywhere else, she would put her Mossad training and skills to good use. Seeing these thoughts in Ziva's eyes, DiNozzo decided that it was time to intervene.

"No, you won't." He spoke harshly, his green eyes softening to a summer-grass green at the shock on Ziva's face. It was so rare that she was taken unaware by anything.

"Won't what?" She asked, quickly trying to cover the mistake of not covering her thoughts, so to speak, when Tony was near.

"You won't do whatever it is you are thinking about doing to my father." Tony clarified.

"Not what I was thinking." Ziva lied.

"Really? What then?" He asked sarcasticaly. Ziva racked her brain. And came up with the perfect story.

"That first day after Jeanne died. When we spent the whole day at your apartment." Ziva's lie quickly formed on her lips as her thoughts switched track. DiNozzo looked surprised and then not-so-surprised when he realized that she was not liying through her teeth. Thoughts of their morning/day/night together would not have earned the vengeful look in her eyes.

"Fine Tony! You were right. I was thinking of hurting your father, okay!" Tony smiled a small, sad smile. It was not often that he got Ziva to admit that she was not telling the truth, thought he did wish her lie had been true. A truer lie. It had a nice ring to it. The conversation had dropped off at Ziva's admission and pale light was filtering in through the dirty glass of the lone window.

"What are you thinking Tony?" Ziva asked, trying to renew the talk they had been having.

"A quote my eighth grade science teacher once told me. He said 'the strong take from the weak, but the smart take from the strong.'" Tony seemed almost in a daze, but he continued to speak.

"And I was thinking, if this is so true, which I do believe it to be, then why are you stuck here with me. You are the strongest, smartest person I know. The strongest, smartest person I have ever met, Gibbs and McGee included. I am the slowest, the dumbest, I deserve to be here." DiNozzo trailed off, looking down at his feet for a moment and then up to see flames of anger spark in Ziva's eyes.

"What?" He demanded.

"I'm going to kill him." Ziva growled.

"Who?" DiNozzo had a shocked-slash-surprised-deer-in-the-headlights-look in his eyes.

"Vance. Your father. Whoever the hell it was who drilled into you that you are always to blame. That you are never right. And I would rather be here with you than anywhere else with anyone else." Ziva was officially pissed. Not someone you wanted to mess with. Tony truly pitied Vance for a moment, until he realized that Vance had killed Jeanne. Then he was just as pissed as Ziva.

Were you to walk into that small desert looking room just then, would would have back away slowly. Fortunately, Leon Vance is not you. Unfortunately for him actually.

Leon did walk in just then, and was very tempted to back away slowly, as if Tony and Ziva were two very dangerous predators getting ready to jump him. When really they were two prisoners, died to chairs, staying strong only by the other's presence. Vance was surprised by the icy, threatening silence in the room. Both captives were staring at him with eyes so cold and sharp they could have cut ice.

"If only looks would kill." Ziva breathed quietly, though both men heard her.

"If only looks could kill, Ziva." Tony whispered back, their argument earlier forgiven, love tinting his every word. Vance flinched. He was really starting to get tired of a trained Mossad assassin wanting to kill him. He knew that if Ziva wanted him dead, and he didn't kill her first, she would soon find a way to dispose of him.

Leon quickly made up his mind. He walked over to Ziva's chair and pulled out a knife. Ziva closed her eyes, preparing to feel the blade perice her skin, when suddenly the pressure on her wrist released, replaced by a strong hold on her upper arm. Ziva opened her eyes. Vance was cutting her bindings. He pulled Ziva up from her chair and Ziva tried to kick out. Seeing this, Leon forced her neck down, and Ziva's up-coming knee collided forcefully with her nose. It started to bleed. Tony struggled to get free, the need to help Ziva surpassing every other instinct. Vance kicked out at DiNozzo, his foot hitting him firmly in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. Tony doubled over as much as he could, trying to get his breath back. He brought his head up just in time to see the Director dragging Ziva out if the room, blood and tears mixed as they flowed down her face.

"Remember the first morning, Tony" Ziva whispered through her tears at him as she was forced out of the room. She started to say something else, but was cut off by the firm slamming of the door, and Tony could hear her no more.

A/N- DON'T KILL ME! I AM SO SORRY I HAD TO DO IT. I hoped you guys, my lovely readers liked this chapter. I have to dedicate this chapter to my eighth grade science teacher, who really did give me that quote! Thank you all.