A/N: Yey I'm back! First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who has commented of their wonderful and encouraging words! I really want to reply to you but wasn't sure how you'd feel if I sent you a PM (of course can't do that with guests :/ )? Would you like it or would it just be weird? And thank you to all of you who pressed the follow/favorite button! I was completely blown away at the amount of people interested in this :O I know it's not that much compared to some other stories but it is much to me! :)

Anyway, I decided to continue this story (I appear to be a master at stating the obvious) and I will finish it too. I just want to say here that my updates will probably be quite irregular, but they are coming at their own pace! I'd also like to say that I've taken some dialogue from the actual episode (as I did in the first chapter too, and will do in the next one as well) since I want the plot to follow the episode's at least a little, not sure why. :P I'm also incredibly nervous that I'll disappoint you haha *grabs Tony and hides behind him*

Tony woke up with a gasp. Sweat was running down his back and his hands were minutely trembling. He must've fallen asleep at some point.

"Dammit…" he muttered as he ran both of his hands through his hair slowly in an attempt to calm himself without pulling the ribs excessively. He glanced at his watch. 3:02 AM. "Isn't that just great.." he sighed.

Deciding sleeping was no longer an option he gingerly stood up from the bed. His whole torso was sore and his ribs pulsated with pain. There was also a faint burning sensation on his left cheek most likely due to the back of Father's hand getting closely acquainted with his face.

He grabbed his emergency makeup kit under the secret bottom of one of his drawers and shuffled into the bathroom. It was quite embarrassing that he had an emergency makeup kit, and even more so that he needed it more often than he was willing to admit. Well, not that often nowadays if he compared it to the time before Father disowned him, sent him away and completely washed his hands out of him.

Which got him thinking about his nightmare. Or more like memories. Shaking his head in a vain attempt to push those unhappy, lonely times back to the back of his mind Tony proceeded into opening his medicine cabinet and took out some gauze and tape.

Hissing, he lifted his shirt up and away. The sight that he met in the mirror made him grimace. He looked like crap. His ordinarily carefully styled hair was sticking up into every direction, his skin was pale and clammy, highlighting the black bags under his green eyes and the black and purple mess on his left cheek and littering all around his abdomen.

Once again he sighed and then got to work. He lifted his arms and slowly began to wrap the gauze around his torso in hopes of steadying the ribs and offering some protection. He then used the tape to fasten the gauze so it wouldn't fall off. Then Tony turned his attention to the makeup. He had his own special mix which blended perfectly with his skin.

He carefully applied it to his slightly swollen cheek before moving on to rub some to the rest of his face, in order to prevent any smudges or gaps that might give away his secret weapon. Satisfied with his handiwork, he nodded, digged up his most expensive suit, got dressed and combed his hair. Then he schooled his features into a neutral expression, closed his eyes and started to slowly patch together his mask.

He opened his eyes and gave a wicked smile to the mirror. Gone was the exhausted man who'd gotten crap shoveled down his neck all his life, beaten and depressed, and in his stead was A Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, the womanizer frat-boy who could charm just about anyone and just wanted to have fun. Yep, they wouldn't notice a thing. No one ever did.

NCISNCIS

He arrived at work earlier than usual, even before Gibbs. So he sat in his chair and finished up some paperwork, rigged Probie's chair so that it would fall apart once sufficient amount of weight was laid upon it and waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

Gibbs came in a little before 7:00 sipping that potentially poisonous liquid he claimed to be coffee.

"Morning boss!" Tony exclaimed cheerfully, earning a glare and a grunt as a response. So far so good.

The rest of the morning they had nothing special going on so Tony proceeded into playing Tetris on his computer, shooting little paperballs at Ziva, calling McProbster every nickname he could come up with and generally kept up the goofball act, trying to annoy the hell out of everyone. This way when he got kicked out it would be easier if everyone already disliked him. He had let down some of his guards and the team had become far too close for comfort. He cared too much, perhaps even they cared too much which would be devastating if they ever found out the truth.

So Tony smiled his trademark wide grin, wiggled his eyebrows when warranted, earned a few headslaps from Gibbs and tried to avoid any sudden movements or breathing in too deeply while keeping his body language as smooth and natural as possible.

All went according to plan until McGoo, fed up with his antics answered his teasing with a grumpy "Sure, Junior.", almost making Tony falter in his retort. Only years of practise prevented him from reacting, since Father was the only one who ever called him that.

And then came the call.

Gibbs had joined Vance in MTAC but returned hastily with the usual bark to "grab their gears". Apparently the NSA's international monitoring software, Echelon, had picked up "chatter" regarding the assassination attempt which had been traced back to the guest business center of the Adams House hotel, the hotel where Prince Sayif was staying. Gibbs' driving was, well, very Gibbs and so it didn't take long until the team arrived outside the hotel.

"DiNozzo Ziva, check the business center, McGee with me to Sayif's suites!" he shouted rapidly.

They all nodded and started running towards their destination. Tony kept his left arm as near his torso for support as he could without making Ziva suspicious. Getting close to the business center, they slowed down and drew their weapons. They continued to carefully approach, checking cubicles one by one until only one remained. Tony glanced at Ziva who nodded. They creeped up, with Ziva watching his six. Reaching the last cubicle, Tony took aim, stepped forward and announced himself.

"Federal Agent, hands in the air!"

The man in the cubicle turned and once again Tony was brought face to face with his Father.

"Junior, what's the matter with you? Put that thing down, someone could get hurt!" Senior scolded with a displeased frown creasing his forehead.

NCISNCIS

In the Interrogation Room, Senior was checking out his appearance from the mirror and straightening his jacket.

"Maybe Tony didn't have a mother, maybe he was cloned." Abby shared her conspiracy theory with Ducky in the Observation Room.

"There certainly is a strong familial resemblance…"

At that moment Gibbs entered the Interrogation Room. "Hi. Jethro Gibbs," he said and offered a hand at Dinozzo Senior who shook it.

"Oh, Agent Gibbs," Senior answered with a pleasant smile.

As soon as their hands touched, Gibbs could feel in his gut that something was off.

"Well, you finally get to meet the real Tony DiNozzo," Senior said while raising both of his eyebrows as if sharing a secret.

Gibbs didn't like him. There was something about him that was slimy, for the lack of a better word, and his attempt at humor made the agent feel uncomfortable. Senior was like a steak that had been forgotten on the table for a night: it looked good on the outside but it didn't smell right. Nevertheless, he was Tony's father and Gibbs was quite sure Tony would've wanted a closer relationship with him while growing up. Despite of his instant dislike of the man, Gibbs didn't want to ruin Tony's chances of building a real connection with the man. So he chuckled shortly at Senior's joke. He couldn't quite hide the spiky edge in his tone when he answered, "Didn't expect it was going to be under these circumstances."

Senior's face morphed incredibly sour for a moment but soon it was wiped away by a charming smile. Yep, Gibbs really didn't like this man. So he walked to the other side of the desk, pulled the chair back and smiled as politely as he could to the other man. "Have a seat, you got some explaining to do."

Senior raised his eyebrows again before beginning to walk towards the chair while talking and twirling his hand in the air, "Well, uh, I was just emailing some of my business associates, I'm developing a resort at St. Barts."

He came to a halt next to the chair putting a hand in his pocket while Gibbs sat down. "Junior wouldn't explain but, uh, what warranted guns being pointed at my face and being brought down here for questioning?" He was starting to look slightly annoyed.

Good, Gibbs thought savagely when a sudden feeling of protectiveness overcame him. This man hadn't even bothered to show up when his only son was dying of the damn plague! None of this showed through his carefully neutral expression though and again he had to remind himself to keep things friendly for Tony.

"You used certain keywords that were picked up on a global surveillance network," he answered instead.

"Wow," Senior said, "that stuff really exists?" Then he gave another friendly smile, making Gibbs' gut churn faintly.

"I thought that was only in spie movies. How does it work?" Senior questioned excitedly.

Now it was Gibbs' turn to smile. "It's classified."

"So uh, this is where you bring the bad guys for the third-degree?"

Gibbs almost sighed. Then he took a pen out of his jacket and clicked it open. "You mentioned Prince Omar and assassination in your emails, why?" he asked, done playing games.

Senior lifted his hands on his sides as a gesture of surrender. "I confess. I'm a bit of an opportunist, uh," he finally sat down on his chair, "money is tight these days and I'm missing a key piece of financing so I thought that fate had interceded when I heard that Al's gonna be in town," he said with a goodhearted smile.

Had it been someone else, they would've smiled kindly and thanked the other man for his time. But Gibbs wasn't fooled that easily. Oh he believed the opportunist-part but right now his gut was sending him all kinds of warning signals while looking at that smile. So he raised his eyebrows. "Al?"

"Ah, that's what Prince Omar's, Al's, friends call him," Senior chuckled. "So I was notifying some of my investors that Al was gonna be in town because of said assassination attempt on his son."

"Why were you at the Adams House?"

"Oh, I'm staying there. It's my favorite in Washington. Donald, the concierge, he's a miracle, he can get you anything you want! Theater tickets, restaurant reservations… Have you ever been to the roof-top grill?"

Gibbs was unimpressed. He could try to change the subject all he wanted, Gibbs had time. And people said he lacked patience.

"No," the agent deadpanned.

"Oooh, they got the best rib-eye in town!" Senior exclaimed enthusiastically.

In the Observation Ducky said almost as if speaking to himself, "He's right, they are delicious..."

NCISNCIS

Tony was waiting outside the Interrogation, leaning on the wall. This was starting to turn into one of the worst weeks of his life. He banged his head against the wall with a small thud. What would he do? Everyone would be pissed at him, Gibbs and the team for ratting out their intel since Gibbs would find out, and Father… Well to be fair Father was always angry at him. That didn't make him feel any better though. Tony didn't know how long he could keep all the balls in the air when more were constantly thrown into the mix.

The drive back to NCIS had been spent in silence so thick Tony had felt as if he was suffocating. And now when they let Father go he was going to have to pay for their unexpected encounter.

Gibbs stepped out into the hallway, pulling Tony away from his musings. The older agent frowned slightly and Tony wondered how much of his exhaustion showed through. He'd slept only a few hours last night and had barely eaten anything today. Not that he was hungry, more like a bit nauseous. He straightened slightly, an unreadable expression planted on its place.

"You keep your father clear of Omar's family," Gibbs said quietly.

"Yes boss," Tony replied without making eye contact. He knew he had screwed up big time. Actually he was a little surprised Gibbs didn't threaten to take his badge there and then.

"Make sure he gets the message," Gibbs muttered as he walked towards the Observation.

"Got it," Tony confirmed.

He watched him disappear and fought down a panic attack. Like he could control Father in any way! He would do as he pleased no matter what Tony wanted. Actually he would probably do the exact opposite of what Tony wanted. But it's not like he could tell that to Gibbs. God everyone's gonna hate me when this is over.

He buried his face into his hands for a short moment, bracing himself for getting Father out of Interrogation. He was in for a world of hurt, that's for sure.

NCISNCIS

He'd told McGee that he'd take Father away to some other hotel and the younger agent bobbed his head absentmindedly with a "Yeah, see you tomorrow Tony," which Tony took as dismissal and grabbed his bag.

His Father waved cheerfully to Tim, earning a quick smile from said agent.

The trip was again spent in stifling quietness and Tony could feel the anger and loathing spreading through the car. Once they got inside Tony's apartment Senior closed the door and fixed Tony into an icy glare that could challenge even that of Gibbs'.

"Why do you always have to screw everything up," Senior said with a low voice.

Tony bit his lower lip on the inside and focused his gaze on the wall behind Father. It was easier this way than seeing the genuine disappointment and hatred in Father's eyes. Here we go…

The older man walked to him. "Give me your hand," he commanded.

The younger man hesitantly turned his gaze to meet his eyes. "Look, I don't know what brought you here and honestly I don't even care, but you need to stay away of Prince Omar's family," he said wearily.

Father stared at him incredulously, "Are you telling me what to do?"

"Trust me, you don't want Gibbs on your ass. He's a freaking bloodhound," Tony smiled weakly and continued, "If it's money you're after, fine, I'll give you some as long as you leave town."

The look Father gave him was murderous. "Are you threatening me, boy?"

"I'm not. But Gibbs might if you don't steer clear of them," he answered with a confidence he didn't feel.

Suddenly Senior grabbed his left wrist forcefully with one hand while the other one took a hold of his fingers. And then he pushed up until a sickening crunch could be heard. Tony sucked in air rapidly and all he could think of was PAIN PAIN PAIN! Ironically, the sudden deep breath made his ribs pulse in the same painful rhythm as his wrist did.

After a moment of panting he managed to ride out the worst. As he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?) he realised he was kneeling on the floor with Father looming above him, still gripping his hand tightly.

Senior's lips twisted down in repulsion. "Pathetic…" he muttered as he let go.

Tony instantly drew his hand to his torso, still trying to calm his breathing so at least his ribs wouldn't hurt that much. Then Father planted his shoe on his back and pushed until he was lying face to the floor. The pressure was released but Tony knew better than to get back up. A wave of self-loathing engulfed him because it was so evident how damn whipped he was, how desperate to please Father. Spineless. Soon, a thump could be heard, but this time the pain was located in his right knee. It caught him off guard, nearly making him scream, but he grinded his teeth together and only a grunt escaped.

"I wish you would have never been born. I wish you would have died instead of your mother."

Tony let those words linger in the air and shut his eyes tightly.

"I hate you." The coldness of Father's voice chilled him to the bone but he refused to shiver.

He heard footsteps retreating, door opening and slamming shut. Tony laid there a few minutes.

"I hate you too," he whispered to the floor shakily. Then he laughed mirthlessly, "God I'm a mess..."

He didn't open his eyes until he was sure the threat of tears was gone.

NCISNCIS

He didn't sleep at all during the night. Instead, he gingerly examined his new injuries while minding the old ones. The wrist was definitely broken but Tony was confident he had managed to set it in a correct position. He had wrapped an emergency sling for it out of his suit jacket until he could get up to the bathroom and get some beige gauze on it, which nicely matched his skin tone. Then he'd only need to make sure none of it showed under his sleeve at work tomorrow.

This was okay because now he could work on automatic. He could focus on trying to fix himself physically since he doubted it was even possible mentally, plus the physical pain was a nice distraction. The worst scars Father had ever given him were not visible ones, and he carried them wherever he went.

With his wrist taken care of Tony switched his attention on his right knee. It was a bit of a hustle to wiggle out of his pants with a busted wrist, ribs and knee but after some time he managed it. By then he was shaking and sweating, scolding himself for not being able to handle a little pain like a grown man.

Tony stared intently at his right knee. It was somewhat swollen and slowly turning purple but it didn't seem broken. Didn't feel broken either. He poked it a couple of times and concluded it was sprained or something like that. Nothing that warranted a visit to a hospital. He repressed a shudder. Nope, he was just fine.

He used his good arm and the sofa to get up from the cool floor. Tony then tried to put some weight on his bad leg, just to see if it would hold. And it did. But damn it hurt. So he slowly started limping towards the bathroom. Once inside, he nearly collapsed on the toilet, trying to catch his breath with his ribs, wrist and knee screaming at him.

He was exhausted by the time he was wrapped up, gotten dressed, checked and reapplied some of the makeup foundation and ready to go.

NCISNCIS

Once he arrived at work, he was being greeted by a wonderful coffee smell, not the black ooze Gibbs drank. He forced himself to walk normally from the elevator and ignore the stabs of pain radiating from his leg. To his joy, McGee was just placing a hot cup of coffee on his desk along with a donut since he had apparently gotten breakfast for all.

Father's words echoed through his mind. All they do is tolerate you because they have to, because they are stuck with you! He did his best to ignore them as he walked cheerfully towards his desk. Oh the actor the world had lost in him!

"Gooood morning Ze-eva, McCoffeeBringer!" he said happily and sat on his chair. Getting his weight of the bad leg was blissful. Then he opened the lid off the papermug and took a peek inside. Looked good. He took a sip. Just like he preferred it if he had to drink coffee.

He gave an exaggerated groan as he savoured the taste of hazelnut-creamer. "McSaint, you are heaven sent, I swear no more pranks!"

McGee huffed, amused, "Wanna bet?"

Ziva's eyes twinkled with humor as she leaned forward in her chair. She then put a finger on her lips in fake ponderance. "I'll say… One week."

"I was thinking more like three days," Tim said.

Tony placed his good hand on his chest in mock hurt. "You wound me!" he declared. "I can contain myself for at least two weeks!" Then he wiggled his eyebrows for good measure.

This made McGee laugh and Ziva smile. The younger man got up and walked next to Tony, offering his hand. "Five bucks?"

Tony took his hand. "Oh, you're on!"

He leaned back in his chair and winked at Ziva, "Nothing beats easy money."

She just rolled her eyes, still smiling at his antics.

Gibbs strolled in with his omnipresent cup of "coffee". "Five bucks you're gonna get to work before I reach my desk."

"Come on boss, you're no fun!" Tony whined.

Gibbs almost smiled at that but he had a reputation to hold. So he merely raised his eyebrow and watched as the agents quickly started opening files on their computers and making calls. A quick smile flashed through his features. Then he focused on Tony. Behind the smile he seemed extremely tired. Gibbs guessed this whole thing with his father was taking a toll on him. Maybe he should go a bit softer on him today, but on the other hand Tony hated being treated with kid-gloves. He knew from experience that when relationships were strained it sucked a lot of energy out of ya. Tony'd be fine, they had his six, he tried to reassure himself.