DISCLAIMER: I do not own NCIS.

***

Tony could feel himself wake up, pulling out of the heaviness of sleep. Trying to open his eyes, Tony found out quickly that one was caked closed with blood. With the other eye, he looked around him. Dark room, size was hard to tell with no depth perception, and other than the chair he was sitting on, empty.

Tony tugged his hands trying to break free from the duct tape restraints, but was rewarded with ripping hairs and skin from his wrists. Hearing something from behind him, he strained his neck to turn.

"Ah, good morning Anthony," Tony recognized the voice as the leader of the men who came to his apartment. "I wondered how long you would stay asleep. But now, it does not matter."

"Well, you know me," Tony started. "Hello Carlo, still working for my father? You really must love your job if you put up with him."

He drew closer to Tony moving close into his ear, "I know exactly who you are, Anthony. I know every little thing. Your father? He trusts me, you know."

Tony furrowed his brows, "He doesn't trust anyone Carlo. No one. The stuff he tells you are probably just vague hints so each of you can pull your own conclusions and each personally hate me. It's easier to get you guys to do his will that way."

Carlo back handed him, his heavy ring connecting with Tony's jaw. Tony shook his head to clear the buzzing but wound up worsening the bells. The already dim room darkened a bit more briefly before his eyes cleared.

"Ha, you're getting better. Are you working out?"

"Shut up," Carlo growled. "What you say might be true-"

"Oh, it's true. Carlo, it's the gosh darn truth," Tony put as much sarcasm as he could into the line. Carlo was always easy to rattle and Tony loved to push him as far as he could.

"I said shut up! You," Carlo's temper simmered. "Anyway, just to let you know, we took you this time for a reason. Just think about that."

Tony grimaced and nodded. He knew what happened after this, the bad guys always taunted right before they sent in the big guy with-

"Hello, Anthony."

Tony sighed, "Hello Vince. Where's Vaughn?"

Vince chuckled, "You always make me laugh Anthony. Rocco will be here shortly."

"Great," Tony said cheerfully, but inwardly his heart sank. It was going to be a long next few hours.

***

"Calm down, Miss David!"

"Officer! Officer David," Ziva snarled. "And when will you release me?"

The nurse glared at her and said shortly, "I can't release you until you stop moving and let me dress your wounds! And after that, if you would just sign the release forms, then I can finally get rid of you!"

McGee hid a grin at the spunk the older nurse showed to the assassin. He made sure that he turned a little more away from her just in case. Gibbs, he saw from the corner of his eye, was also holding back a Gibbs' grin. McGee was just about to turn back around when Gibbs crooked his finger. Puzzled, McGee followed Gibbs to the other side of the examination room.

"McGee," he whispered. "Did Ferguson's team-"

"Get all the evidence to Abby? Yes boss. She's already going through it, she'll call when she has something," McGee nodded as he spoke. Almost as soon as he finished his phone rang.

"That'll be her," Gibbs said shortly.

McGee didn't bother to check, he immediately opened and said, "What 'cha got Abs?"

"Aww, McGee that was so Gibbs. Is Ziva alright?"

McGee shifted his gaze to the woman in question, "Well, if I say Gibbs confiscated her knives, does that answer the question?"

Abby chuckled as Gibbs sent him a glare, "Yeah, McGee. So I got through the evidence, which wasn't a lot. Just multiple samples of blood…."

"Go on."

"Just a second McGee. Do you know how hard it was thinking I would have to find Tony's bloo-"

Gibbs was starting to get impatient, "McGee."

"Not now Abs. Just give me the facts," McGee said nervously. Either way, someone was going to be upset with him.

"Timmy! I can't believe-"

"Abby, I have to report to Gibbs. He needs the information now," McGee tried to mollify the perturbed forensic specialist.

"Oh," silence for a second before, "Okay, for Gibbs. Most of the blood in the kitchen area was a thug by the name of Rocco Lorenzo. Rap sheet as long as my arm. There was some blood that belonged to Tony. In the hallway, most of the blood came from Vincent Cappinciano and Carlo Orsi. Both wanted for connections to the Italian mafia. Even Italy wants them in jail. But, McGee all of the blood in his bedroom, it came from Tony. I saw the pictures McGee; it was a lot of blood."

He listened as Abby's voice went from calm to tearful, "I know Abby. But we'll find him. We always do. Or he finds us. You know Tony."

Abby sniffed, "But what if this time is all of his cat lives are spent up? What if he can't escape? We haven't always found him you know, he manages to escape or establish contact somehow without our help."

McGee watched warily as Ziva strode their way, "He'll be fine Abby. I have to go. I'll call you if we find anything, okay?"

"Okay, but promise me you will."

"I promise," McGee said sincerely and hung up. "Boss, we're looking for a Rocco Lorenzo, Vincent Cappinciano, and Carlo Orsi, wanted for connections with-"

"The Italian mafia," Gibbs finished. "It's his father."

Furiously, Gibbs turned and left the hospital, McGee and Ziva jogging behind him. McGee was shell-shocked, his face wide open. Ziva, on the other hand, was growling in Hebrew. Not wanting to know what she was saying McGee tried to dignifiedly run to the company car.

"What are we going to do, boss," McGee asked as he leaned forward from the backseat.

Gibbs squealed out of the hospital parking lot, shouting over his shoulder, "The bastard sent those men to deal with Tony."

"Why did they take him though," Ziva asked as she clutched at the door. McGee winced as his head made contact with the roof. He had been wondering something entirely different, but deciding that the answer wasn't worth the possibility of death; McGee placed his hands on either side of the back seat and watched as Gibbs drove them out of DC.

***

"Wake up."

Instantly, Tony awoke and blinked blearily. The room was still dark, but he knew exactly who had spoken to him. Needlessly, he asked though he knew there was only one person who held this much power and fear over him,

"Father?"

"If you weren't such a nuisance, you wouldn't have to be tied up like this Anthony," his father returned.

Tony rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Nice to see you to."

He felt the shift in his father's attitude before the backhand. Silenced, Tony remorsefully turned his head away from his father.

"Don't speak to me like that! I won't tolerate it," his father commanded. It brought back memories that Anthony had long locked away and hadn't let escape since he was younger. Slowly, he watched his father walk to his other side and cocked his head contemplative.

"You are starting to look old Anthony," Mister DiNozzo began. "But it seems you are just as obstinate as ever. Rocco had to get stitches. Using a knife seems rather… weak. But that does not surprise me at all."

Tony scowled before schooling his features, "You have no idea what a knife could do. It doesn't surprise me that you would shy away from something that is messy. And used in close contact. It never was your thing was it, dad?"

The rage that filled his father's eyes transported him back to the time he dropped the 115 year old scotch after his father had broken his arm. Cowering back as his father hit him repeatedly, Tony cursed himself for trying to stand up to his father. Never would he hesitate to stand up or mock his captors, because they never held any sort of leverage over his state of mind.

***

A/N: As promised, a few more chapters tonight.