AN- this part picks up where Truth or Consequences left off

On the plane home from Somalia, Gibbs looked over his people. Ziva, might be battered and bruised, but she was here and alive and the drip in her arm and her heavily medicated sleep was the best thing any of them could wish for right now. Tim, was bearing his own battle scars, but exhaustion borne of a dip in adrenalin, plus the satisfaction of a job well done, had lulled him into a natural sleep. Of the three of them, only DiNozzo sat, still wide awake, staring straight ahead, his hands clenched with a white knuckle grip on the retraining straps, exactly as if Salem still held him bound in place.

Gibbs expression darkened. He had agreed to this plan, he had had complete faith in the ability of DiNozzo and McGee to see it through. That hadn't made any of it any easier. As a Marine sniper he had learnt to bide his time, hone his patience, waiting as long as it took to get the perfect shot. It was a skill he still used in interrogation. Knowing Saleem had taken his people and having to wonder hour by hour, minute by minute, what kind of hell he was putting them through had been bad enough. Now realising that DiNozzo was still suffering at the hands of that SOB and his truth serum was completely unacceptable.

"Medics check you out?" Gibbs asked, as he settled in beside his senior field agent, despite already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Tony looked at him, his eyes dark and glittering slightly as he waved his hand at the drip fixed in his arm. "I've been poked, prodded, appraised, evaluated, examined, I think they were working their way up to eviscerated ..."

"Anything I need to know about?"

Tony squinted, focusing hard on the opposite wall, for a long moment, before he exclaimed, almost in triumph. "No! Absolutely, no injuries at all that you need to know now about. No imminent danger of bleeding out, no bullet wounds, no broken bones, no allergies ..."

"McGee said Saleem gave you Sodium Penthonol. Is that right? " Gibbs pushed.

"Sodium Penthonol and several other agents, a perfect little cocktail of his own making, shaken not stirred," Tony spoke at high speed, as the information raced out of him, apparently in spite of himself. Then he scowled, as he regained a little more control. "Damn that McTattle-tale I thought I was supposed to be the loose lipped one."

"Yet you didn't think I needed to know you have been given truth serum?" Gibbs asked, dangerously quietly.

"You might want to know but strictly speaking you don't actually need .." Tony trailed off to peer closer at the look his words had placed on Gibbs face. "You know, if I didn't know better I'd say you were looking impressed rather than pissed."

"You do that kind of end run around Saleem?" Gibbs raised a brow.

"Tried to," Tony nodded. "Wasn't easy. My tongue just kept wanting to run away with me. So, I figured if I just kept on talking and talking and tried to keep the gaps for him to actually ask any actual questions I wouldn't be able to tell him as much of the stuff he actually wanted to hear."

"Uh huh," Gibbs reflected on that. It was a clever plan. As an interrogator Saleem had probably found it damned frustrating. And it wasn't in Tony's nature make his captors go easy on him. Not when his partner was the only other target. And a lot could happen in three days, a lot that didn't leave any physical marks. Gibbs knew that from personal experience.

"You expecting some turbulence?" He asked with a lightness of tone he did not presently feel.

"What?" DiNozzo blinked, as he followed Gibbs gaze down to take in his own white knuckle grip on the red harness which strapped him in place on the transport, his eyes widened slightly, before his ears tinged with colour as he registered what he was doing. "Oh, I guess I could let go, huh?"

"Ya think?" Gibbs tried for normalcy. It didn't help.

"You need a hand?" Gibbs, asked after a moment when DiNozzo didn't actually move. He didn't care what the shrinks might say, about letting the kid take things at his own pace, he needed to see his agent let go of those damned straps.

"No, I'm good," Tony visibly braced himself, before he slowly uncurled first one hand and then the other. "The medics said I needed to hold on," He smiled mirthlessly at his own joke. "They wouldn't give me any medication or food or anything. They wanted me to hold on until whatever else was in the cocktail of drugs Salem gave me wore off. So, I guess I was just holding on."

Gibbs nodded, accepting that explanation for now. McGee's injures were painful but fairly straightforward. After months of captivity he knew Ziva was going to need serious help. But DiNozzo was more complex. Apart from lack of food and water his physical injuries seemed apparently minor. And that worried Gibbs. He already knew that Saleem had forced Tony to watch as McGee had been beaten. He wondered what other mind games the terrorist had played.

"You could just ask me," Tony offered, out of the blue. "Whatever, it is you are thinking so hard about. Veins full of truth serum here. All you have to do is pop the question and I'll tell you whatever it is you ever wanted to know."

Gibbs bit his cheek hard. The possibilities were endless. There were so many things about the younger man that he was itching to know. Right now he knew all he had to do was ask. But that seemed like such a breach of trust he could not bring himself to even try.

"Have you ever lied to me, Tony?"

"No, Boss," Tony assured him. "I have never, ever, lied to you. Well, expect that one time with the whole frog thing and that doesn't really count because I was under orders and you know all about it now. " Tony pressed his lips together, obviously struggling with the frankness of his answer, Gibbs has asked an actual question after all. "But I haven't always told you the whole truth."

Gibbs knew that. He also knew that his sense of own sense of loyalty and honour would not let him take advantage of the younger man just because he was so completely vulnerable. If there were things DiNozzo wanted to get off his chest, then it had to be on his own terms.

"Anything you want to tell me?" He asked quietly, comfortable in the knowledge that the younger man had already proved adept at dodging that particular bullet.

"Yes, I'm starving," Tony looked around, as if hoping a trolley service might magically appear. "You don't happen to have any of those little packets of pretzels do you Boss?"

The younger man tried, not entirely successfully, not to flinch back as Gibbs moved. Patterns learnt over the last few days could not be so quickly unlearnt. Tony noticed Gibbs noticing but he knew his Boss would understand. Sure enough, the steady blue eyes offered nothing but silent support as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a power bar. As Tony's eyes greedily tracked it, Gibbs un-wrapped it and broke it in half, offering one of the pieces to Tony.

"Um, Gunny?" A medic passing back from checking on Ziva interrupted their exchange. "I wouldn't advise that, sir. Special Agent DiNozzo hasn't eaten since he was taken captive three days ago. As I already told him he needs to stick to jell-o or apple juice for the time being."

"The Gunny knows that all, Corporal, but unlike you, he doesn't care." Tony pointed out. "So mind your own bees wax."

Gibbs thought about telling the young medic that he knew the symptoms of dehydration and malnutrition up close and personal. But he also knew DiNozzo and his cast iron gut. Weighing the possible issues of further dehydration or sickness against the look of naked hunger on DiNozzo's face was no contest.

"You spew over my boots and I'll kick your ass. You keep that half down and you get the other half. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, Boss." Tony agreed.

Two halves of a power bar later and a few hours of sitting still, breathing in Gibbs familiar scent and feeling the warmth where their knees and shoulders were pressed together in the crowded transport, DiNozzo's exhaustion lulled him into a natural sleep. Gibbs allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction, as he settled in to watch over his team.

But he knew they weren't out of the woods. Not yet.

Gibbs usually liked being proved right. It was one of the things he loved about his job, putting together the pieces to prove his theory. But on this occasion he would have been more than pleased to be proved wrong. It was oddly fitting that the first person who stopped by his desk to put a nail in that coffin was Ducky.

"Jethro, I have invited Ziva to stay with me for a few days. I think it will take some time before she is comfortable enough to accept the medical assistance, she requires. Abigail has agreed to join us for what she terms a 'slumber party' and I hope between us we can ensure the dear girl gets the help and support she deserves."

"That's a good plan, Duck." Gibbs met the MEs hooded eyes and decided he might as well bite the bullet. "Something else bothering you?"

"When I tried to congratulate agent DiNozzo on his outstanding achievement, I thought he would be elated at his success and be eager to expound on his endeavours. Imagine my surprise when he brushed me aside as swiftly as his ingrained good manners would allow him to dismiss a man of my age."

"DiNozzo, doesn't grandstand over the important stuff, Duck."

"Indeed, Tony is an excellent agent, a skilled undercover operative and a man of enormous dedication and compassion. You chose well when you plucked him from that debacle in Baltimore."

"You going to tell me something I don't know, Duck?" Gibbs enquired.

"Oh, I very much doubt that, Jethro. However, not withstanding the fact that the demands of his position sometimes require him to take on a military role Tony is at heart a police detective. We would perhaps both well do to remember that the boy's not used to combat."

"It's not the combat that's bothering him, Duck." Gibbs had been cryptic.

He knew that over three days something had happened to Tony in that hell-hole. He figured that between DiNozzo, Ziva and McGee's after action reports he should be able to piece things together. Then they could fix the problem. Predictably, the next person who stopped by was Abby.

"Gibbs, you need to talk to Tony."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Oh. He almost single-handedly masterminded a super secret operation to bring down an International terrorist and his entire network and he brought Ziva back alive. I mean, McGee and I helped some. And we couldn't have done it without your super sniper skills. Or the Director, I suppose. But mostly it was all Tony. He should be being all uber Agent, quoting James Bond and grinning like a Cheshire Cat. He should be happy. But he really isn't. He's all quiet and un-Tony like."

"Abby."

"I know, I know, what you are going to say Gibbs," She held up a hand. "I understand that he's been captured and the bad man didn't feed him, didn't even share his Caf-Pows and I know that he beat up on him, even though Tony won't talk to me about any of that. And that makes me really mad. But Tony has been captured by bad people before and he's always come out fighting and kicked their butts. I'm telling you Gibbs, this is different. This is so not good."

"I know."

"You do?" Abby blinked as she absorbed that. "Of course you do. I should have known that. You're Gibbs. You know everything. It's just I'm so worried about Tony. I'm going with Ziva and Ducky back to his place. And I know Tim has his family to go to. But Tony doesn't have anyone and he needs someone to take care of him."

"Know that too, Abs," He stood up and came around the desk to kiss her. "Go take care of Ziva."

As he settled back to his paperwork, Gibbs resolved there was no way his senior agent was going home by himself tonight. Over the last year the younger man had shied away from his established coping methods of alcohol and women. Gibbs wasn't sure that was entirely a good thing. It wasn't like the younger man had enough room in his apartment to build a boat. Still, whatever, was going on with DiNozzo Gibbs was determined he wasn't going to go through it alone.

"Boss," A familiar voice cut into his thoughts. "I finished my report."

"Are you doing OK, McGee?" Gibbs asked the younger agent as he handed over a file.

"Yeah, Boss, I think I am," McGee reflected. "I mean, I'm still kinda sore, and I have my mandatory appointment with the shrink to look forward to, but I'm doing alright. I'm really glad that we got Ziva out of there alive and I'm pretty proud of what we did."

"You should be," Gibbs acknowledged, he eyed the younger man closely and decided he was happy to take him at his word. "So, how are you going to spend your weekend pass?"

"I'm heading home," McGee smiled. "I haven't seen my folks in a while, nothing like being held prisoner by a Caff-Pow loving terrorist in the middle of the Sahara to make you want to re-connect with family."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Gibbs dismissed him fondly. "Get out of here."

McGee didn't need telling twice. He powered down his computer, turned off his desk lamp and picked up the backpack he had stowed in his locker, only to pause as he took a look around at the other empty desks.

"Um, should I say good bye to Ziva?"

"Ducky's still checking her out," Gibbs spoke without looking up. "Abby's with her."

"Good, that's good." McGee's eyes drifted to the senior field agent's desk, which was also, for the moment, conspicuously empty. "Um, Boss. I should probably tell you. It's about Tony."

That brought Gibbs head up, his eyes burning brightly. The look on McGee's face made his gut twist. He was almost afraid to hear this but he couldn't help DiNozzo by being a damned coward.

"What about him, McGee?"

"When we first got to the camp, we were separated. I didn't see Tony for over two days. They didn't do anything more to me than knock me around some and withhold food and water. But whatever they did to Tony. I think it was pretty bad, Boss."

Gibbs nodded his understanding of that as the junior agent took his leave. Heading up to his de-briefing with Vance his senior field agent's after action report he wasn't surprised to find that it was a masterly piece of writing, thorough and factual. But he knew it was far from the whole picture. Right now, all Gibbs really cared about was getting out of the Director's office so he could find out what was really going on.

So, at first, he was merely irritated and a little annoyed, when having finished his de-briefing he surged to his feet, and was half way to the door without waiting to be dismissed, only to have Vance's words stop him in his tracks.

"There's more."

It was the tone, rather than the words themselves that made him turn on his heel, steeling himself to meet the Director's gaze. When he saw only sympathy, his gut twisted.

"The Seal Team you left behind to take care of the clean up searched the rest of the facility," Vance advised him. "Turns out Saleem taped his interrogation sessions. A lot of the information was deleted or destroyed as the base was over run. But they were able to recover some information."

"Ziva?" Gibbs asked. Three months was a long time.

"Not so far." Vance shook his head.

"McGee?" Gibbs thought that wouldn't be so bad.

"DiNozzo."

With an effort, Gibbs kept his face expressionless. Judging by the look on Vance's face he was damned sure he didn't want to see this. However, part of him knew he needed to see this through, both to honour DiNozzo's courage and to make sure the younger man got the support he needed. The other part of him knew that his senior field agent would see his viewing of this video feed as a serious breach of trust.

"I'll give you some privacy." Vance's eyes were dark with sympathy.

"You've watched it already." Gibbs realised.

"Yes," Vance acknowledged. "You should be damned proud of your people, Gibbs. And for the record, I was wrong about DiNozzo."

"You gonna tell him that?"

"I already have," Vance looked closely at him. "But he hasn't told you that has he? Because then he would have to tell you why."

"I want him here," Gibbs decided. "I'm not going to watch this unless I know DiNozzo is okay with it."

"Already taken care of," Vance picked a piece of paper up off his desk and passed it over so Gibbs could see DiNozzo's flowing signature. "He said he promises not to leave the building until he has spoken with you. Apparently, in his experience that goes easier than making you look for him."

Gibbs didn't smile.

"He understands that you need to see this, Gibbs," Vance advised him. "And, believe me it will go easier on him having you watch it then his having to tell you about it."

Gibbs didn't respond as Vance left. Once he was alone he picked up the remote and pointed it at the screen. He set his jaws and his features as the first few images began to flicker across the screen. One thing he was sure of, if DiNozzo had signed off on him seeing these digital tapes, then they didn't cover the half of it.

And what they did cover was more than bad enough.

"Aw hell, DiNozzo." Gibbs sighed.