A/N: I have struggled quite a lot with this chapter. There has been a continuous cycle of deleting and rewriting some parts (most parts) and still the result isn't what I'd want it to be. I feel as if this story has been on a slippery slope starting from "okay" and now hitting "meh". xD I'm particularly disappointed in the ending, but they've never been my forte anyway. I'm going to post this now though because I don't think I can get this any better. Hopefully some of you still enjoy it!

His heart was pounding in his chest with such ferocity he was almost afraid it was going to break out of his ribcage. Tony was sitting in the corner of one of the cool autopsy tables, with Ducky hovering over him like a mother-hen. He could do this. He had talked his way out of worst situations. He'd donned on his annoyed mask, glaring at his teammates huddled close by.

Ducky flickered a penlight in his eyes, momentarily blinding him.

"Hmm…" the elderly brit hummed, proceeding into peeking at the goose-egg in the back of his head.

"Any nausea? Dizziness?"

"Nope and nope," Tony lied through his teeth, sounding disinterested.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Anthony D. DiNozzo, I'm at NCIS HQ, today is friday 8th of January 2010 and Obama is the president."

Ducky chuckled lightly at that. "Have you lost consciousness at any point?"

Gibbs answered before Tony had time to open his mouth.

"I slapped him on the head and he passed out," he said gruffly, looking slightly guilty.

"Oh dear…" Ducky muttered. "Well it seems as if you have managed to give yourself a minor concussion, though I hardly think it's due to Jethro's actions. Would you care to share with us Anthony?"

Concern clouded the good doctor's features, making Tony feel a little bad for lying.

"Fine, I tripped during the morning and hit my head. So I'm clumsy, sue me," he proclaimed with exasperation, rolling his eyes. Not the smartest thing to do considering the concussion and all.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes once more and Tony saw he didn't believe it one bit. The younger agent's heart started racing even faster as he stood up and begun to walk towards the door, feigning nonchalance. "Whatever, I'm outta here."

The ex-marine grabbed his left wrist in order to prevent him from leaving. What Gibbs didn't expect was a sudden hiss of pain escaping from Tony's lips. Alarmed, Gibbs gently rolled up his sleeve while all fight seemed to have left the other agent. The older man sucked in air between his teeth as he saw the gauze wrapped around his SFA's wrist.

"What's this Tony?" he asked softly, sounding calmer than he felt.

The usually eloquent man faltered a bit in his answer, desperation seeping in faintly. "I, uh… Fell down the stairs?"

Gibbs closed his eyes and opened them slowly, trying to catch Tony's gaze. God he hoped he was wrong about this one. "Did he do this to you?"

McGee and Ziva looked bewildered, having no idea what their boss was talking about. Gibbs, on the other hand, studied Tony's face intently, not missing the small cracks in his mask as Tony seemed to be fighting down panic.

This was all the answer Gibbs needed.

In seconds the other agent's mask was as impenetrable as always as he replied steadily, no emotion in his voice, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Where else?" Gibbs continued with the soft prosody.

"What where else?"

"Where else did your father hurt you?"

Tony deflated, as if he was a balloon and someone just let out all the air. He didn't meet their eyes as he sighed. "Right knee, think it's sprained, a few bruised, maybe cracked ribs and…" he hesitated.

Understanding and horror dawned on the faces of Ziva and McGee. They were struggling to grasp this since Senior had been so nice towards everyone.

"And what?" Gibbs prompted gently.

Tony shrugged, fiddling with his jacket. "Some bruises."

Gibbs took some wet wipes from the corner of the room and brought them to Tony without saying anything. The younger man sighed as he began to wipe the makeup of his face and neck area. Seeing the slightly fading bruise on his agent's cheek and especially the finger-shaped ones on his neck nearly made the ex-marine lose his control and go after the bastard who did this to their Tony.

There was an audible thump as McGee slid down next to the wall and made contact with the floor. He couldn't believe this. Tony was always so cocky and confident. His current view of who Tony was, was being shattered into pieces.

Meanwhile, Ducky took Tony's hand gingerly and examined it with a sad expression. "We should take some x-rays, just to be on the safe side."

That's when Ziva stepped up, looking fierce. "One word, Tony, and he's gone. And I don't leave behind evidence," she said with a vicious grin.

This got a reaction out of Tony as his eyes snapped to Ziva's, flashing dangerously as he pulled his hand out of Ducky's. "What?! No, nuhhuh, not happening. I'm not some damn damsel in distress, waiting for my white knight in shining armor, nope. I can take care of myself just fine, been doing it most of my life."

He glared at them. "Besides, I doubt he came here for me, he's made it pretty clear before I'm not worth his time. He had probably heard about what happened to Prince Sayif from one of his "contacts"" Tony made air-quotes with his good hand "and when he realized we were on the case he wanted to verify it or something. And I don't think you could even find him if you wanted, David, since I'm pretty certain he realized he crossed a line there. So my educated guess? Right now he's probably on some private tropical island, surrounded by the money he's gotten through all his shady business deals, not planning on ever returning. He might actually even think me dead."

Tony then gave a short humorless laugh, slightly disgusted with himself, which inevitably turned into a coughing fit.

After he recovered, a short pause followed.

"Why would he think you're dead?" A pale McGee asked slowly, struggling to comprehend all the informantion while being incredibly lightheaded.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe since he almost strangled me yesterday, no biggie. I mean, it would have been a different thing if I'd still been a kid, but I think boss here actually made him feel uncomfortable." Tony gave the fakest smile they'd ever seen on his lips.

"Don't get me wrong, it's not like I like the guy, I actually kind of hate him but…" he hesitated, casting his gaze downwards with a sigh and gently rubbing the back of his neck, "he's still my father you know? He's the only family I have left," he finished quietly, shoulders slightly slumping.

And didn't that just break Gibbs' heart. Tony should never have to look so lost and defeated. He doubted he could ever fully forgive himself for letting this happen, right under his damn nose. He should have noticed, he should have prevented this. But this wasn't about him. This was about Tony.

"That's where you're wrong," Gibbs said, the gruff voice nearly betraying his emotions.

Tony gave no indication of hearing him.

So Gibbs walked in front of him and gently took hold of his jaw. Then he lifted it without any resistance from the younger man so that Tony's eyes met his. Now that he got a good look at his agent Gibbs could see that Tony didn't look just tired as he had thought earlier, he seemed absolutely exhausted.

"Ya hear me Tony?" he said quietly. "That bastard is not your family, he lost the right to that the first time he laid a hand you. But you do have a family, right here, and we got your back. That's what family does."

The raw hope glimmering in the green eyes, the one Tony clearly did his best to hide, shattered his heart all over again. So he did something very uncharacteristic of him: lightly pulled his SFA into a hug.

This gesture of friendship and safety made Tony tense up. The younger agent made no move to respond to the hug, just stayed as still as humanly possible, as if waiting for something terrible to happen. Seconds turned into minutes before very gradually, Tony began to relax and rested his forehead against Gibbs' shoulder with a small sigh.

"Semper Fi," the ex-marine whispered.

They stayed like that for a moment, none of them moving or talking. After a while, McGee started picking himself up the ground. Gibbs released his hold as McGee approached them on shaky legs.

"He's right Tony. We won't turn our backs on you," he said, the lingering paleness of his skin in contrast with the determination in his voice and appearance as he hesitantly put his hand on Tony's shoulder.

Tony nodded absentmindedly while chewing his bottom lip, still avoiding eye contact. His eyes seemed red-rimmed and moist as he blinked rapidly, collecting himself.

"We will not throw you to the wombs," Ziva added passionately as she came closer so that they almost formed a half circle in front of their injured teammate.

McGee's expression changed awkward as he corrected Ziva, making Tony chuckle mildly.

Gibbs looked at his team, Ziva and McGee arguing over "wolves" and "wombs" as Tony watched them, looking amused and more composed now. Even though his mask seemed to be back on it's place, Tony was nowhere near alright. But maybe he would get there with their support. And Gibbs would respect Tony's wishes and not go after Senior, though if they someday happened to bump into each other in some dark alley… Oh yes, Gibbs was very much looking forward to that meeting, paperwork be damned.

A/N: So as I have said earlier, I don't really know how to continue from here so I guess this'll be the end. However, if this has sparked interest/inspiration in any of you, feel free to write your own idea of what could happen next, or if you want to you can take my idea and completely rewrite the whole thing! All I ask for return is that you'd send me a link to your story so that I can come and read it! :)