A/N: Big thank you to Cha Oseye Tempest Thrain and Kate98 for betaing

He couldn't breathe. He woke panicking, trying to fill his lungs. He was going to die, the plague was going to kill him, and he was alone.

"Tony, listen to me. You're not going to die."

This time, the words didn't ground him. He watched Gibbs' unmoving body as he tried to pull air into his lungs. Every second that passed made him panic more.

"You have to calm down. Damnit, Tony, you are not going to die on me."

He started coughing weakly, trying to move the mucus that was blocking his throat. The movements hurt his entire body, but particularly his chest and stomach muscles. Finally the obstruction cleared from his throat and he could breathe. It wasn't comfortable, but at least he was getting air.

Tony wiped his arm across his mouth, clearing the saliva from his coughing. His lips and throat were dry, but the little water they'd been given was on the far side of the room. Gibbs lay between him and it; he was going to remain thirsty.

"You should drink."

"I'm fine." His hoarse voice indicated otherwise, but he wasn't going to acknowledge that.

"No, you're not. They're coming for us, and I'm going to be pissed if you're not alive when they get here."

"You drink, then." He was aware that he sounded petulant, but he really didn't care. If it was so important, Gibbs could make the first move. "See, you're not going to drink, so why should I?" Tony waved a finger in Gibbs' general direction, before letting his arm fall to his side. He felt like his energy was flowing out of him into the floor and the wall.

"I would, but it won't help. I'm dead."

Tony shook his head and closed his eyes tightly. He hummed, trying to block out the words, but after a few seconds he dissolved into a coughing fit. "You're not dead. The great Gibbs can't die."

"Thank you for elevating me to immortality, DiNozzo."

"You're welcome." He pulled his knees towards him and rested his face on his thigh, blocking out the world.

"He told you that I'm dead. Why would he lie?"

Tony laughed abruptly. "To screw me up even more than I am already, maybe?"

"I didn't think that was possible."

"You're meant to be dead, remember?" He lifted his head and rested his chin on his knees.

"I might not be. You haven't checked."

Tony stared intently at Gibbs. "You're not moving, I can't see your chest going up and down, there's blood, and he said you were dead. I hate to break it to you, Boss, but you're dead."

"Good, your defensive mechanism is back in place. You were starting to worry me."

Tony smiled, feeling a tear slide down his cheek.

"Still doesn't mean I am dead though."

"I'm not checking on you, Boss. You're dead, but-"

"If I really am, you don't want to know. And there's nothing you can do to help me if I am alive, because I'm unconscious, so you can't give me any water, and there's no way to tell how bad my injuries are."

Tony nodded. Somehow Gibbs always seemed to understand what he was thinking, and why he was thinking it. It could be really useful, like now, but other times it was just plain frustrating. Often, it resulted in a slap to the back of the head before he even said anything to warrant it. "Why do you slap me on the back of the head?"

"Because you deserve it."

He smiled at the answer. "Well, there is that. But sometimes other people deserve it."

"What do you want me to say, DiNozzo? That it's a sign of affection? That I care about you?"

His smile faded, and he squeezed his knees. "Of course not." He tried to put his customary levity into his voice, but found he couldn't.

"I mean think about it, somebody slapping you as a sign of affection?"

"I know, Boss," he assured Gibbs. "Crazy, huh?"

"Ya think? You know, what I've never gotten is why you feel the need to share things about yourself with everybody. We don't want to know all about your love life and your screwed-up childhood. You just never shut up."

Tony struggled hard to repress tears at Gibbs' words. It wasn't anything he hadn't thought before, but it hurt to actually hear Gibbs say them. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'll be good; I won't talk, I won't interrupt, I'll keep my smart-ass comments to myself. I promise." He hid his face behind his bent knees again, brushing the wetness off onto his pants.

"Good. You know why I hired Kate, McGee and Ziva don't you? I want to replace you. If Kate hadn't died, you would have been replaced. People actually liked her. It should have been you that took that bullet. She had family and friends that grieved for her - what do you have?"

"Nothing," he murmured into the pants.

"What did you say? I can't hear you."

He raised his head and faced Gibbs, feeling tears sliding down his cheeks. "Nothing," he screamed. "That's what I have. Nothing."

"Good to see you've finally learnt."

"Oh, I learnt." He felt the pain rise, making his voice harsh. "I learnt when my mother ignored the fact that I was too terrified to sleep in my room, when my father was so drunk that he forgot about me for two days, and when he told me that I was going to end up in the gutter. I learnt, Gibbs, a long time ago. Guess it was stupid to hope that things could be different."

Tony let his body fall back against the wall, and closed his eyes. His choked sobs were the only sounds in the room. His eyelids were heavy, his eyes gritty from crying. Maybe if he slept, he'd dream of rainbows, puppy dogs, and people that actually cared about him.

He woke up, uncertain as to where he was.

The floor was hard, the light dim, and there was a smell.

He knew that smell.

Decay.

There were two desiccated corpses chained to the walls that surrounded him.

He was chained to a wall.

He was going to die.

Alone.

His eyes still felt gritty; what little sleep he'd managed to get had left him feeling more exhausted then when he'd drifted off. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, feeling them blur with some that had escaped from the corners. "So, what are we going to talk about this time, Gibbs? How much you like me, or how annoying I am?"

"You know that you're not really talking to me, so what does that say about you?"

"Ah, answering a question with a question, one of the classic avoidance techniques. Guess you've had years to work on that one, right?" Tony rubbed the sleep between his dirty fingertips, only just realising that what he'd done was not incredibly hygienic. He shrugged and brushed his fingers on his pants, adding to the dirt already there.

"Back at you."

"Do you think they've given up by now? I mean, what, it's got to have been a couple of days since they grabbed us. If they haven't found us in the first 48 hours, there's not going to be much of a chance of them finding us. How long before Madam Director takes everybody off the case?"

"They're going to find us. Nobody gets left behind."

He grinned tiredly. "Maybe if you're looking for us. If you were, I wouldn't be worrying."

"That's a semi-circular statement, Tony."

Tony's grin widened at the obvious amusement in Gibbs' voice. "Let's see whether you make any sense when you're this tired and concussed. At least, I think I'm concussed, I'm not certain though. Thinking is a little difficult."

"Isn't that the story of your life?"

Tony shifted against the wall, his butt was numb. "What, being concussed? I'd give anything for a cushion right now. Do you remember those Choose your Own Adventure books?"

"Of course I do, because you do."

"Turn to page nine if you want to be rescued. If only life worked that way." Giving up on getting comfortable against the wall, he wiggled down to lay on his side again. "I wish I had more padding on my butt, this wouldn't be anywhere near as uncomfortable."

"Ah, but then it wouldn't be a five."

Tony giggled. "I can't believe she gave me a two for excessive hair."

"See, that comes under don't ask, don't tell. You're rambling."

"Am I? I hadn't noticed. Although, I do have a tendency to ramble when I'm going to die. Making the most of what time I have left, I suppose." He gingerly lifted the arm he was lying on and positioned it to support his head.

"You're not going to die."

"I've always wondered, which would be the better way to go. Like this, knowing nobody will find you, but hoping they will, or gone in a second, not even having time to feel it. Of course, it's a little hard to decide, because it's not like you can do both. But I've always leant towards being gone in a second." Tony coughed, feeling sweat form on his forehead from the exertion.

"Like Kate."

"Like Kate. Do you miss her, Gibbs? Of course you do, you just don't let us see it. I miss her. I know, you're surprised. But even though she was an absolute pain in the ass at times, I liked her." He breathed out a laugh. "Ducky thought that there was sexual tension between us...not me and Ducky, me and Kate. I don't think either of us had realised it, until he told us. I mean, it's not as if we'd have ever actually got together - that would be a disaster waiting to happen. We'd have killed each other, and I think my death would have been more painful."

"It might have worked out."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, right. I'm not going to change, and it's me that's the problem. No girl...no woman, should have to put up with me. It's not fair to them. I mean, I could blame everything on my parents, and my neglected upbringing, but it can't just be that."

"Nature versus nurture."

"Yep. Part of it has to be me; there has to be a reason that it all started."

TBC ...