A/N: Okay, I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter. I'm a bit afraid I've crossed the line between "believable" and "dude, you're kidding me, right?" but this was the best I could do. :/ I hope you guys (or at least some of you) still enjoy it though! I'm also pretty certain that next chapter will be the last one, since I don't really know how to continue. I will finish it as quickly as I can but I have a few exams coming up that I really need to start preparing for (so best case scenario: in the end of this week, worst case scenario: some time next month?). It will be a good thing for me to take a break from writing after next chapter anyway, I've been stressing over this quite a lot which has led into me being very anxious and having trouble sleeping. But I promised to finish so finish I shall!

And to that one pretty negative guest review (if you're still reading this): I'm sorry you didn't like my story, and I'm not going to force you to continue reading it. I'm sure there are a boatload of wonderful fics out there you'll enjoy much more than my attempt at one! :)

Oh well, here goes nothing!

In the afternoon it was time to switch the security detail on Prince Sayif.

Tony had been preparing himself all day for the possibility of another case or being the one stuck with Sayif. In his condition, he'd be nothing but a liability so he might need to bullshit his way out of this. It would have been easiest if he could've just started with a lie and never showed up at work but he was worried Gibbs would figure out something was definitely not right. The ex-marine was already suspicious - Tony had caught the older man glancing at him from the corner of his eye every now and again.

The problem was, he still wasn't sure what to say. It had to be something that was believable but nothing one wanted more information. Maybe he'd say he ate some bad pizza yesterday and had diarrhea. No one wanted to know more about diarrhea right? At least his gauzes were supporting the injuries nicely, enough so that he could push the pain to the back of his mind and act normally.

"Prince Sayif is a chauvinistic, royal pain in the tush," Ziva huffed as they walked to the hotel.

"If he wants me to be one of the agents accompanying him again, you may have to hire someone to protect him from me," she added sourly.

McGee glanced at her apologetically. "Well, he's not used to anyone saying 'no' to him."

Ziva's glare prevented the younger agent from adding anything else.

They reached the suite and were almost at the door when the elevator dinged. DiNozzo Senior and Prince Omar stepped outside of it, chatting like old friends.

"I have a little family matter to attend to, but then we should talk," they heard Prince Omar say.

Senior merely smiled at him and returned to the elevator.

"I told you to handle it," Gibbs hissed at Tony, not pleased at all of seeing the slick man again.

Tony had pressed his lips together into so thin a line that one could barely see them. "I spoke to him," he said and added a small lie in an attempt to soothe the tension, "I think he's losing his hearing."

The SFA could see how frustrated his boss was. His heart rate began to pick up as he realised he'd screwed up again. He prepared himself for what was coming so that even if he'd get fired he could try to leave with his dignity intact.

"Just keep him the hell out of here," Gibbs snarled.

Tony hid his surprise with expertise and nodded. "I won't let him out of my sight." I won't let you down again boss.

With that, he left to go after Father.

NCISNCIS

Tony found Father in the first place he checked - the hotel bar. Some things never change.

Senior looked up and took a sip of his already almost empty glass of whisky. "You again…"

"Look, Dad," he offered with a wry smile that didn't reach his eyes as Senior's face darkened, "I have to take you back to NCIS. Told you to stay away from Prince Omar."

Father stared at him without saying anything and for a fleeting moment Tony thought he was going to start beating him here in public. His heart was pounding, palms sweaty and his mouth felt dry. Then the look on Father's face changed back to his usual charming smile even when his words were uttered with an undertone of anger, "Fine, but we are going to have a small chat later. In private."

Tony nodded numbly. It had been inevitable anyway. And he deserved a punishment.

NCISNCIS

Apparently the bomb had been planted by the driver, Walid Abbas, who had also been killed in the explosion. Ziva and McGee were bouncing ideas on the motive behind the deed that costed the driver his life while Tony was slowly filling paperwork by typing on one finger. He couldn't really use his busted hand so he took it to the extreme and only used his forefinger, making McGeek exclaim in exasperation, "You're actually starting to regress Tony!"

Not having the energy to come up with a witty retort, Tony merely stuck out his tongue and returned to typing. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the small screen as the letters seemed to jump around or blur into each other.

Father picked this moment to arrive with Abby on his arm and a dazzling smile on his lips.

"Whoever hires the women around here deserves a bonus! They're not only beautiful, but they're bright," Senior informed the room and winked at Abby, making her blush.

"Oh, stop it!" Abby smiled and playfully slapped his arm.

This made Tony feel even worse. Couldn't they see behind the smiles and kind words? Couldn't they see how much this hurt him? He was conflicted: a small part of him wanted to shake them and make them see the truth while the other part was scared shitless they'd find out.

"This the end of the tour?" Senior asked friendly.

Abby chewed on her lower lip as she thought. "Hmm… I think I showed him everything," she added, looking at Tony.

That's when Gibbs walked in the room. "I'll show him around. We'll start with the armory."

They both left the squadroom and a stunned Tony behind them. This can't be good.

"I'm flashing back," he said almost to himself, "Boarding school. Headmaster wants to talk to my dad."

As Ziva and McGee shot some sympathetic glances in his general direction, Tony brought his focus back to his computer. He felt dizzy and nauseous, bringing up and then fighting to keep the composed mask on his features.

NCISNCIS

Gibbs ushered Senior into the conference room.

"This doesn't look like the armory to me," the man quipped with a small grin.

Gibbs tapped the back of a chair. "Sit," he said while moving around to the other side of the table and sitting down.

Senior took the chair Gibbs had tapped, humming to himself briefly. "When you offered to take me on a tour, I suspected you had an ulterior motive. What's on your mind?"

Gibbs didn't respond to his smile. He'd noticed Tony paling slightly when his father stepped out of the elevator with the Prince. "Your son."

Senior sighed and covered the side on his face with his hand for a moment. "What has Junior done now?"

The disappointment flashing through Senior's eyes at the mention of Tony almost made Gibbs jump up and punch him in those perfect white teeth. But he didn't. He had to keep things civil for Tony's sake. So he kept the neutral expression and continued, "Tony likes to hide behind the face of a clown. But he's the best young agent I've ever worked with."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that." Even though his tone was friendly, his smile didn't seem to completely reach his eyes.

"When's the last time you talked to him? I mean, really talked to him?"

Senior shrugged. "We keep in touch."

"Four years ago, your son came very close to dying from pneumonic plague."

Senior's face was unreadable, reminding Gibbs of how Tony sometimes looked.

"And I expected to see you. You didn't show then. Why are you here, now?" he continued.

Senior narrowed his eyes before replying, "He never told me he was sick."

"Oh, so you don't keep in touch?" Gibbs questioned dryly.

Anger flashed flitted through Senior's eyes at the accusation. "I should tell you to piss off. But I do know Junior thinks the world of you, so I'll keep this civil." He paused for a moment, then continued, "Are we finished?"

With no response from Gibbs, Senior rose out of his seat and left the agent alone in the room.

NCISNCIS

Back down at the squadroom, Senior walked to Tony's desk and leaned against it.

"Hey, Junior, I'm getting quite tired. You mind giving your old man a ride to the airport? I think it's time for me to go home and let you get back to your work," he said not unkindly.

Tony nearly gulped visibly before matching Father with a fake smile of his own. "Sure, Dad, it was nice for you to visit."

Ziva and McGee shared a smile.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. DiNozzo," McGee said, ever so polite.

"Ah, the same to you Tim! Is it okay if I call you Tim?" Senior chuckled. "And my lovely Ziva, I have to say you look incredible with your hair down, just like I knew you would."

Ziva continued smiling, obviously pleased. "Good bye, Mr. DiNozzo."

There was a twinge of pain that had nothing to do with Tony's injuries. No, seeing the team so friendly with Father was twisting his guts into a knot. He wasn't sure if they'd ever been so nice towards him. But on the other hand they didn't really have any reason to be.

Resigned to his fate, he followed Father to the elevator and waved his goodbyes. At least Father was leaving and there was only one more day left until they had the weekend off which should give him sufficient time to get a grip of himself.

Once they reached the elevator, Father snarled in a low voice, alcohol faintly smelling in his breath, "Your place first, I can show myself out. I don't want to be seen in public with the likes of you."

Probably using the mouthwash again to hide the stench, Tony thought.

The younger man hummed noncommittally. Besides, they would have to take a taxi, there was no way Tony could drive with the condition of his wrist and knee.

NCISNCIS

Senior kept up a light banter with the driver during the ride as Tony remained mostly silent. It didn't take long for them to arrive at Tony's building, from where they walked briskly inside, the agents knee sending signals of pain on every step.

Tony unlocked the door, held it open for Father to step in and then shut it after himself. The older man strolled a few steps forward with his hands in his pockets, passing the sofa table and reaching the black couch. Then he started speaking calmly.

"You know, you are an ever-present thorn in my side but I never thought you were quite as stupid."

He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. "Maybe you're just looking for new ways to disappoint me, God knows how hard that must be. But you do not give commands to me, you do not talk back to me unless I so demand! Have you completely forgotten your place?!"

He turned around, disgust and rage written all around his face.

Oddly enough, Tony didn't really feel anything. It was as if he was in a dream, or maybe it was due to the bone-deep fatigue he felt for his disregard of food or sleep during Father's stay. So he did one of the dumbest things in his life: ignored the content of the words and made it all into a joke, a deflection tactic he often used at work.

"I'm pretty sure this is my place, Alzheimer much?"

Oops. Well he had never been accused of having too strong self-preservation instincts.

Father balled his hands into fists as he stepped closer, shaking with fury. "Excuse me?"

Too tired to control his mouth he just let it run. Oh well. It had been fun as long as it lasted.

"Come on, you know this! Dementia? No? Should I dumb it down more? Problems with me-"

His babbling was interrupted as Father's hands twisted themselves around his throat and squeezed.

It took Tony a while to realize what was happening. He started gasping for air and tried pulling the hands of his neck. Already weakened by his weariness, Father pushed him down on his back after a moment of wrestling. Senior's face was red and he was out of breath as he continued squeezing as hard as he could. Black smudges were dancing in Tony's vision as he started to actually panic. So he lashed out with his good leg, hearing a cry of pain as Father's face swam in and out of focus. The last thing he felt was being lifted up and then quickly brought back down. After that it was all black.

NCISNCIS

There was an annoyingly loud sound. Tony moaned. Jeez, his head hurt, what had he been drinking? It felt like someone was trying to carve their way out of his skull with a pickaxe. Blearily he forced sticky eyelids apart only to groan as light exacerbated his headache. He coughed, and man what was up with his throat? Too exhausted to think he closed his eyes with a deep sigh as the irritating ringing stopped. Only to start again after a few seconds.

Phone. His brains provided him. Probably Boss.

Again he pried open his eyes, this time more cautiously, as he started searching the offending piece of technology which had brought him back from his slumber. He then froze for a moment as yesterday's (at least he assumed it was yesterday) events played through his mind again. Oh crap. And then he remembered he was supposed to work today. Double crap.

He got to a sitting position with haste, making the world spin and his head almost explode. He then returned to frantically searching his phone until finally he pulled it out of his suit pocket, victorious.

It was McGee. Tony flipped open the phone in order to answer.

"Hey McNosy, what's up?" he rasped. Wow his voice sounded bad. Guess near death by strangulation did that to you.

"Tony where the hell are you?" was the rushed reply followed by a hesitantly concerned, "You okay?"

He was quiet for a moment as he took in his surroundings. Apparently the sofa table had been kicked down at some point during the incident, with the lamp from the top now in pieces on the carpet. Probably some blood had seeped into the carpet as well, judging by the throbbing of his head. Something had also flown against his TV (possibly a remote?), causing the screen to crack from the upper right corner. Fortunately it hadn't dropped down since that would have made hell of a racket.

Okay, so he had two choices: A) Go to work and pretend everything was fine and clean up afterwards or B) Call in sick and clean now. Although option B held not a small amount of temptation, Tony just knew that Abby would come by, even if he told her not to, with black colored chicken soup or something and Tony seriously doubted he'd manage to clean everything and be presentable by the time she'd arrive. Plus there was no way he could change the TV in time.

So he decided to go with option A. He wasn't stupid enough to risk his team though - if a call came, he'd just stay at HQ going through some paperwork and old, unsolved cases saying that he had caught the cold. Yeah, that could work.

"Yeah, yeah I'm peachy. I must have slept through the alarm, don't worry Probster I'll be there soon. Has Gibbs noticed yet?" he enquired nonchalantly, feeling anything but.

"I don't think so, he's been up in MTAC the whole morning with the director. Are you sure you're fine? You sound a bit... Hoarse."

Tony waved his hand dismissively, forgetting that McGee couldn't see him. Also forgetting the broken wrist, making him grimace. "Yeah, I think I'm just coming down with something. Good thing we have a free weekend coming up right?"

He got up on unsteady feet and started to clumsily head towards the bathroom. There was a small pool of blood soaked into the carpet where his head had been but he didn't have time for that now.

"Yeah I guess…"

"Look McKnight, hold the fort for me for a while longer, see you soon." He pressed the red button before McGee had a chance to reply.

Anxiousness churned in his stomach in chorus with nausea so strong he nearly had to stop to toss his cookies. He self-diagnosed himself with most likely a mild concussion. And, well, a sore throat but that was a given. Doing his best not to faint, Tony hastily washed the mostly dried blood out of his hair over the sink. Then he as gently as he could wiped it with a towel. As he pressed slightly on the bump in the back of his head he nearly lost the battle with consciousness. Good thing his shirt underneath the suit was dark in color, so that any possible blood spatter wouldn't be noticeable.

Luckily he hadn't bothered to clean up his makeup kit so that he didn't have to go looking for it. As fast as he could he hid the slowly darkening handprints from around his neck. Then he grabbed a new, clean suit jacket while calling a taxi.

NCISNCIS

It had been a while since Tony had hanged up on him. Gibbs was still upstairs and Ziva seemed engrossed by something on her computer screen. Tim sighed, not being able to concentrate. He looked around to see if anyone was within hearing distance but it seemed as if everyone who was on call were out chasing a lead or something. Worried, he turned to Ziva.

"Do you think he's okay?"

Ziva frowned minutely. "He has seemed a bit... Distracted recently."

McGee pursed his lips. "Yeah, I guess his dad just turning up here was bit of a surprise."

Their discussion was cut short as Tony came out of the elevator, half-running.

"Am I busted?" he whispered hoarsely as he dropped his backpack next to his desk. McGee's concern hitched up a notch as he noted how pale and rumpled Tony looked. Even his hair was sticking up in random directions. He tried to reassure himself by thinking that Tony had said he felt a bit under the weather.

Ziva's frown deepened. "No, Gibbs is still upstairs. What happened to you? You look like you have been run over by a can."

Tony blinked. It took him a moment but then he laughed and leaned against his desk, gripping it with one hand. "Car Zeeva, not can."

"That does make more sense," she replied, scrutinizing him intently.

That's when Gibbs came down the stairs, unnoticed by them all. He walked briskly from behind Tony and slapped him in the back of his head casually as he passed the younger agent.

What came next caused all the other agents to freeze in shock.

Tony gave a small utterance of pain as his face drained white and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. And then he fell forward like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Gibbs was the first one to recover from his stupor as he looked at his hand and noticed a small speck of blood in the middle of his palm. Then he was by Tony's side quicker than Abby could say "Caf-Pow".

Gibbs moved his hand through Tony's hair with great tenderness until he located a big bump, the likely source of the tiny fleck of blood. In the meanwhile Ziva and McGee had gotten next to their boss, but without crowding the space right by Tony's side. Gently, Gibbs turned his SFA until he was laying on his back.

"What the hell just happened?" McGee whispered, quite pale himself.

Tony moaned and his eyelids fluttered. Gibbs patted his cheek lightly. "Tony? Can you open your eyes?"

"Mmmm…" he answered as he slowly pried them open. Then he blinked a few times, taking in the scene.

"What happened?" he croaked, confused. It didn't last very long as all of a sudden it was as if the figurative window blinds had been closed as his face morphed into an unreadable expression.

"You passed out and fell," Ziva provided, concern evident in her voice.

"DiNozzo's don't pass out," Tony mumbled.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Then what would you call it?"

Tony hesitated, avoiding eye contact. "A brief lapse in consciousness? Besides, I didn't fall, I attacked the floor," he added with a sarcastic smirk. Then he gradually got up into a sitting position.

Gibbs recognized the deflection as what it was. The other eyebrow joined the first one.

"With your face?" McGee asked, clearly not buying it.

Tony shrugged. "What can I say? I'm skilled."

The expression on Gibbs' face was neutral but his eyes belied his scepticism and worry.

"Ducky. Now," he said with a voice that brooked no arguments.

Tony's face hardened as determined green eyes met steely blue ones.

"I just got a bit lightheaded. I'm fine."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "You passed out because I slapped your head. It's either Ducky or the hospital. Your call."

The ex-marine thought he saw a flicker of panic fleeting through Tony's eyes before the younger man grumbled, "Fine, I'll go see Ducky. But seriously though, it's not a big deal. Just a little cold."