So, hey there, everyone. Sorry for massive hiatus. Been real busy. Here's a real Tony heavy chapter that I think y'all will like. My sincerest apologies for all the typos that are going to be everywhere. It's really late (or real early more accurately) and I must sleep now. And for some review replies:

HaremPriestess: That's a good idea I was already leaning towards. We'll see where the story takes the pairings!

yellow blaze: oh geez, thanks! I'm flattered, you're making me blush. The feedback means a lot to me!

Fullmetal Embers: oh, it's juicy, and dark! But that's why we read'em, amirite?

marnie o'field: I sure know the feeling! I hate to torture you really! Hopefully, I'll keep up more so now that I've jumped my personal shark. And it's mistress, in case you're wondering -curtsies- =)

Llanea: 'honest writing'- that is a compliment that touches my heart. -bows-

Chapter Eight: Black Night Revelations

"Don't get me wrong, Tim's always been a sweet guy," Sarah said. "When we were in high school, he was never the popular kid. So one night, I was going to some party, and I got him to come too."

Tony listened, stomach twisting in dread. He already knew that this would not end well.

"We were at this big house, and everyone was drinking. I kinda kept track of where Tim was for awhile," Sarah paused. She held a rumpled tissue between her hands, and they clenched at this. Tony could hear the 'if only's in her head as she glared into the past.

"It's okay, Sarah. There's no way you could've known what was going to happen." Though Tony did not know what happened in the first place and was not sure that he wanted to.

"Well, I was flirting with this guy- he was on the football team- when I look back, and Tim was sitting on the couch by himself."

Tony gave a shadow of a smile, imagining awkward, little Tim sitting at a party alone. His thought lacked malice, though. Tony just knew that a party like that was not something Tim would enjoy.

Sarah's expression drew darker, frowning as she tried to remember. "Then I looked back… and there was this guy sitting with him. He was talking to Tim, and Tim was smiling." Anger burned in her eyes at this. "He brought Tim a drink, and I thought everything was okay. But then I got distracted. Me and the football player… um, we hung out in a back room for a little while." She smiled in embarrassment, and Tony laughed with her a little bit, feeling strange, like laughing was a foreign concept these days. "Dumbass didn't bring protection so I went back out to the living room, but… Tim wasn't there."

"By then, it was late, and people were crashing on the couch or going home. Something felt- wrong." She hugged herself, rubbing her upper arms as if she were cold. "I realized I had no idea where Tim was. It had been- hours since I'd last seen him. I wanted to believe he had gone home or was just sleeping somewhere… But sometimes, you just- you just… know." Tears pearled in her eyes, and she bit them away.

"Wh-where did you find him?" Tony tried to say, but he could only just get it out. Dark ditches and wet gutters flashed through his head. Had this bastard dumped him there, broken and bleeding? Or maybe he just fled the scene with 16-year-old Timothy laying on the floor behind him.

"He was upstairs." Sarah choked, but then fire started burning her eyes and hands. Her voice became smooth and steely. "I w-walked in and Tim was laying in the bed. The guy was standing over him. Tim… was silent." Her right hand tightened. "All I knew was that Tim was hurt, and this guy was not happy to see me. I picked up this little stool beside the door and just-just whaled on him. The first shot-" She motioned an upward swing. " -hit him on the back of the head. The next like, five swings didn't really connect, but the first one did the trick."

"I came up beside the bed and tried to talk to Tim, but he wouldn't speak. He didn't have clothes on." Sarah was sobbing now, forcing the words out in arduous burts. "I found'em and got him to get dressed. He was covered in bruises, and he had a big cut on his face and chest."

"He has a scar…" Tony said.

Sarah nodded. "On his left cheek."

"Damn it," Tony growled, no longer able to hide his fury, shoulders tensing up as he squeezed the pad he held. "After what he did to Tim… and he gets so close again! Why wouldn't he tell me…" But Tony shook himself. Exhaustion had eaten away at his sense of immediate reason. That was not a question that could be attended to now, and he knew the answer anyway. "Then what happened?"

"I tried to get Tim to go to the police right then, but he just wanted to go home and take a shower. To forget everything. And when I pushed him," she paused, a flicker of some indiscernible emotion on her face. "He got mad." She squeezed her wrist. Something about the way she moved pulled Tony from his anger.

"What, did he… Did he hurt you?" The absurdity of the statement made Tony blink, but Sarah looked him in the eye.

"Tim was in a very bad place. He barely touched me- just grabbed my wrist. He felt a million times worse after." She sighed like she were heaving something heavy off her back. "It's kinda what got him to go to the police, but the guy gave us a fake name, and there was no physical evidence left." Her face twisted in pain. "He threw away the clothes he'd been wearing and must've taken like, twenty showers."

"He ever tell you what happened?" Tony tapped his pen against the blank page of his notebook.

Sarah shook her head. "Just that it did happen."

"And you don't know the man's name?"

Again, all she could do was shake her head.

"What can you remember about him?"

"He was older than us. Maybe twenty? Tall, not skinny, but not really buff. Dark hair, brown.

Tony sighed and stood up. How long had they been talking? It felt like forever. "All right. When we find something, you'll be the first to know."

"Thanks," Sarah said, sounding exhausted and not very thankful for anything in the world at the moment. "I'll probably see you soon."

Tony nodded and went out the door. The drive back to the agency could have been an hour long. Someone attacked Timothy. Someone did something terrible… Tony pounded the steering wheel with his hand as he waited at a red light. He did not want to think it. He did not want to let himself realize the pain and fear that must have reawakened in his friend. How impossible it would be to get McGee to heal. But someone assaulted Tim, a long time ago. And Tony would not let that man get away with what he had done.

Coming to an intersection, Tony pulled out his phone and called Gibbs.

"Boss," Tony said once he heard the line connect. "Sarah confirms what happened. At a party, when McGee was in high school, he was assaulted, and he took a few days to report it. They don't know his name."

A sigh came from the other end. "Come on back then. Fornell's working on the block, but it'll be a day or two before they make progress."

Tony 'hmm'ed and chewed the inside of his cheek.

"What is it, Dinozzo?" Gibbs sounded too tired to work up the energy for aggravation, but he could hear the genuine hunch forming in Tony.

"Ah, it's just- nothing. I'll see you in about ten minutes." Tony hung up almost before Gibbs registered the sentence and tossed his phone into the seat beside him. Why let Gibbs know how worried he was about McGee by asking about him when Tony could visit the fallen agent himself?

Later that night, Dinozzo pulled to a stop in the hospital's visitor parking lot and cut off his car. He considered the huge rectangular buildings, with their yellow-lit windows and artificial orange lamps outside, then made his way toward the entrance. The front room had a quiet air of deflating hope, and the receptionist there gave him a tired smile that crinkled up around her eyes.

"Mr. Dinozzo," she said. Her expression had a tired threat in it, an alpha intensity that reminded him of Gibbs. "Here to visit Tim?"

"Uh, yeah." Tony gave a self-conscious smile as the woman wrote him a visitor's sticker. "How's it going?"

"Not too great- lot a sick people coming through. It's like we're a hospital or something." Tony's lips twisted upward at her good-humored teasing. The woman handed him the pass and nodded. "Get along now, I have things to do."

Shoes clicking against the tile, Tony made his way down the hallway, passing the occasion doctor or patient as he went. Timothy had been moved to the second floor for a more permanent room. He would be there for at least three weeks, maybe up to eight, depending on his rate of healing. Tony was not as worried about the physical aspect as he was the mental aspect. The damage done there was unimaginable.

Tony could not banish the image from his mind's eye, those agonizing minutes in the ambulance where Timothy lay silenced, bleeding and terrified. His eyes darting back and forth, tears streaking down the sides of his head. The terror, the utter fear, in those dark irises, as Tony almost begged Timothy to calm down, that he was safe now. But the traumatized man just continued gasping for breath and clutching at Tony's hand. Tony shuddered at the cold panic the memory resurrected in his chest, the dread of knowing his friend was an inch from death.

As Tony stepped out of his solitary trip in the elevator and gazed down the hall, he felt a prickle of unease. Before him sprawled a lobby with several open hallways. To the left was Timothy's room, and Tony saw the two armed guards outside his door, but something was not right. This late, there were not many visitors left, and everything was soft and muted so that patients could rest. The white silence beneath the near inaudible electrical hum of the place made him itch, and he walked just a little faster to Timothy's room. The guards nodded at his NCIS badge and let him go unmolested.

Timothy was not sleeping when Tony tried to close the door without too much sound. Tony turned to see his fellow agent staring at him with tired but gracious eyes. He did not attempt to talk since it was an embarrassing endeavor with his tongue nonfunctional. Just made a little 'hmm' sound that, combined with a smile, conveyed his approval of Tony's being there.

"Hey, big man!" Tony said, giving him a little punch to the upper arm. Timothy's face split with a silent grin. "Feeling any better?" The reply was a tentative nodding. Tony went with ease into one-sided banter, talking about this cute nurse he saw and how she was totally checking him out. Timothy rolled his eyes, and they shared a little laugh. After a few more little bits, Tony went quiet and looked at the man he thought he had known so well. Timothy turned his head to one side at the somber examination, a brow raising in question.

"Tim, I… I went to your sister today." Timothy became very still. A dark look grew in his eyes, somewhere between fear and hate, and Tony knew he could not ever quite know what that feeling was like. "She told me about what happened. And I just wanted to see you, and say…" Timothy's face was twisting in pain. "That you're a thousand times stronger than me. I never imagined… I mean- I just- just want to you to know how much I admire you." Timothy was not looking at him, but the disjointed breath gave away the tear he was hiding. Tony put his hand over Timothy's fist. "I'll see ya later, McGee."

Timothy nodded, and Tony left, quietly closing the door behind him.

And there we have it! And I'll leave you with this: Tony's danger instinct was correct. Something- or someone?- is waiting down the hall. Do we dare believe, that possibly it's- him? Watch out, Tony! Please review, and I'll see you later!