Yes, I know it's been awhile. I'm trying to get back to my WIPs. It's a slow process, though.

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I own nothing except my demented sense of imagination.

Chapter 3

Tony let his gaze drift across the ceiling, unconsciously counting the small cracks that cross-crossed the surface in a pattern that he had nearly memorized over the course of the past two days. He had been transferred to a secure facility for psychiatric evaluations, the results of which would be presented at his indictment hearing. His lawyer, an over-eager kid whose short time out of law school had not been enough to deaden any of his enthusiasm, had advised Tony not to talk to anyone except the psychiatrist. The kid had assured him that he had a good chance at a diminished capacity defense, but Tony had silently disagreed. He was pretty sure his past behavior would work against him, not to mention his past experiences escaping indictment when he had been accused of serious acts of violence.

His eyes made another circuit of the expanse above him as he lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, and worried about Tim. Tony hadn't heard anything about the younger man's condition other than he was still alive. Tony wasn't a praying man, but he silently hoped that Tim would keep fighting and would make it through this, not for Tony's sake, but for the team. He didn't want them to go through the loss of another member of their strange, dysfunctional, yet unquestionably dedicated-to-each-other family. That he himself was no longer a part of that family was quite clear. No one had come to visit him or made any effort to contact him, not even Gibbs. He didn't even want to consider what Abby's reaction would be toward someone who had hurt her "Timmy" and he knew the situation would bring back horrible memories for both Gibbs and Ziva. He already believed their forgiveness was out of the question, yet he still wished he could at least apologize for the pain he had caused.

The sound of his cell door moving inward drew his attention towards it and he sat up, waiting. One of the orderly-slash-guards stood in the doorway, shackles in hand.

"You have a visitor."

Tony stood and held out his wrists, already familiar with what was expected of him. The guard stepped forward and secured the shackles around Tony's wrists and ankles before backing away and opening the door to allow Tony to shuffle through. After a relatively short walk, they reached one of the small "interview" rooms and the guard opened the door. Tony was surprised to see, not his lawyer as he has expected, but Gibbs seated in one of the chairs behind a small table. He felt a faint rush of joy at seeing a familiar face, but the feeling was quickly dampened when he realized what Gibbs' presence might mean. He slowly made his way to his own chair and sat down as he waited for the guard to secure him. He avoided meeting Gibbs' gaze, afraid of what he might see in the older man's eyes.

"You have twenty minutes." The guard left, and finally Tony raised his head.

"How's Tim?" he asked, and the expression in Gibbs' eyes caused Tony's heart to sink. "He's not…?"

"His lung collapsed again and they had to take him back into surgery. He's back in the ICU now, but they said if it collapses again…the doctors aren't sure he'll make it."

Tony couldn't bring himself to respond and closed his eyes, but all he could see was his partner's body as Tony had first seen him when he woke up in McGee's apartment.

I'm sorry, Tim…I'm so sorry…

"What happened, Tony?"

Tony shook his head. "I swear to you, Gibbs, I don't remember. I honestly don't know what happened."

"Not to McGee. What happened to you to make you think you could do something like this?"

Startled, Tony finally looked up and met Gibbs' gaze.

"What do you mean?"

"Something has you convinced that you could have stabbed McGee. What is it?"

"You mean, besides all the evidence?" Tony saw Gibbs automatically raise his hand to administer a head-slap and pause as he obviously realized he couldn't do that in their present situation. Tony almost managed a smile at his mentor's frustration.

"Something happened to you before all of this. I know buried guilt when I see it, DiNozzo. Long buried. What happened?"

Tony took a deep breath, wondering if he could share some of his most painful memories with this man. Deciding that Gibbs' couldn't possibly think any less of him, he slowly let the air out of his lungs and began his story.

"When I was six years old, my mother got pregnant again. It was…a surprise, I guess, to my father, but he was…well, ecstatic. I was excited that I'd finally get to be a big brother, and my mother…I guess she was happy, at least at first." Tony chanced a look at Gibbs and saw a faint hint of surprise in the man's eyes. He paused for a moment to collect himself and continued.

"The pregnancy wasn't easy on her, she was sick a lot, and…I guess she knew something was wrong, but she couldn't bear to tell my father. About two months after my seventh birthday she went into labor. It was too early and…the baby, he didn't make it. He lived for a couple of hours, but…I never even got to see him. My mother named him William, after her grandfather." Something occurred to him and he let out a weak chuckle. "I guess if he had lived, he and Tim would have been about the same age. Never thought of that before…Anyway, after that, it seemed like Dad was always away on business trips. He never spent any time with my mother, and I guess he never made sure she got any help. It was like he just wanted to forget the whole thing happened. But Mom…I guess now they would call it post-partum depression, but she was never the same after William died…and a couple of months later…We were sitting in the kitchen. I wanted to carve a pumpkin for Halloween and I started to ask about it…and I guess she just snapped. She put her hands around my neck and… My mother tried to kill me."

Tony glanced up at Gibbs again and was surprised to see anger, along with some other emotion he couldn't identify. He took another deep breath and managed to continue.

"If our cook hadn't been there…well, you can imagine. She managed to get me away from Mom and called my father. He…I don't know, at first it seemed like he was worried but looking back I realized he was more worried about his reputation. He called in a private doctor to have her checked out and the doctor said she needed to be treated for mental illness, but my father…swept it under the rug." Tony felt a sure of the old yet familiar feelings of anger and shame. "I guess having a wife in a mental institution would have been bad for business. He made sure she was never alone with me again, but…a couple of months later she got really sick and they figured out she had cancer. She only lived for another year after that.

"After she died, my father started drinking more. When he'd get drunk, he'd blame me for what happened. He said I was just like her. If I acted out, or got into trouble at school, he'd go off about my 'temper' and tell me I'd end up the gutter, that I was a liability. It got a little better when he finally he sent me away to boarding school. I did my best to stay out of trouble, but…the doubt was always there. He had me convinced I was going to snap and hurt someone like she did." Tony sighed. "Guess he was right."

Tony saw Gibbs raise his hand again and slowly put it down. He could still see the anger in Gibbs' expression, but there was something more.

"Guess I should have told you about this before. You would have known I was a time bomb… You would have known not to trust me…"

"I'm not your father, Tony."

"What?"

"He blamed you for something that you had no control over. That never should have happened. You had nothing to do with what happened with your mother, or anything else." Gibbs stared at Tony and finally he caught the agent's unspoken assurance. He stared at Gibbs in shock for nearly a minute before he was able to stammer out a question.

"You…you don't think I'm to blame for…?"

Gibbs' gave him one of his classic half-smirks. "Think, DiNozzo."

Tony could only stare at the man across from him as a horrible thought formed in his mind. Gibbs didn't believe that he had done this, but…

"Someone else…?" Gibbs gave an almost imperceptible nod and his gaze flicked towards the camera in the upper corner of the room, held his hand over the table and tipped it slightly. Suddenly Tony's thoughts were racing. He had been set up. Gibbs knew he had been set up, but he didn't want whoever had done it to know that he knew. He didn't want to tip his hand.

"This is probably the safest place for you right now, DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a low voice.

"What about McGee?"

"We're all keeping an eye on him."

"And do you…?"

"Not yet. Gonna take some time."

Tony quickly deflated. The faint hope he had experienced when he realized what Gibbs thought disappeared.

"So what am I supposed to say at my hearing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You want me to…?" He realized what Gibbs' was implying and nodded. "I'll stand mute."

"First time for everything," Gibbs commented with another smirk and Tony almost grinned. Almost. Before he could say anything else, the guard returned to take him back to his cell. Tony sent Gibbs a grateful look before quickly schooling his features. Gibbs just nodded.

Tony followed the guard through the door and took one last glance back at Gibbs, feeling better than he had before this whole thing had started. Gibbs was on the case. He just had to wait for rescue that he felt more certain would come, and continue to hope that his partner could make it through this as well.

XXX

Ziva sat next to McGee's hospital bed, one hand resting on his arm as she gently stroked his forehead with the other. She spoke to him softly, hoping her words were reaching him as she studied his too-pale face for signs of awakening.

After his second lung collapse and surgery, McGee had managed to cling to life as the rest of his team waited anxiously for some sign that he was going to pull through. Finally, after two days on life support, the doctors began to ease him off the ventilator. They had kept him sedated to prevent additional stress and to give him a better chance of avoiding another collapse, but now, four days after that incident he was free of the vent and they had reduced the sedation. The doctors believed he would wake up soon, although they had warned the team that he would probably not be completely coherent for several days.

"You need to come back to us, McGee," Ziva whispered. "You need to get better. We all miss you. I do not think Abby has smiled once since you were hurt. Ducky seems to have run out of stories to tell, and Gibbs…he needs you, too." She felt a twinge of guilt. Gibbs did need Tim to wake up and show that he was going to make it, but part of that need was also to know what had happened, and if what Tim knew could help Tony. Ziva did not believe that Tony, in his right mind, would ever harm his partner. She did realize the irony, since she had once believed him capable of violence, but it had been made very clear to her how wrong she had been. She hoped the incident that had driven a wedge between them would not come back to haunt him now.

Ziva moved her hand from McGee's arm to his hand and intertwined his fingers with her own. She smiled as she thought what his reaction would be if he was aware, and silently prayed that she would see that reaction soon.

"How is he?"

She turned to see a man standing in the doorway and recognized him as the detective originally assigned to the case. She felt a flush of anger color her cheeks at the man's intrusion.

"Lieutenant Doyle. What are you doing here?"

"I just figured I'd come by to check and see if he was awake and could tell us anything. The case is kind of at a standstill."

"He has not woken up yet and his doctors say that when he does wake up, he may not remember what happened. I am sorry, we cannot help you. Please, go."

Doyle chuckled and shook his head. "Must be a hell of a thing to be stuck in the middle of this. One of your teammates tried to kill the other, and you're wondering how you missed the signs."

Unconsciously Ziva tightened her grip on McGee's hand. "I do not believe I missed anything. I do not believe there was anything to miss."

Doyle snorted. "I think your partner there would disagree."

Ziva barely managed to control her anger. "I have asked you to leave. Do not make me ask again."

"Fine. Just make sure you don't miss letting me know if he wakes up." Doyle turned and walked out and Ziva forced herself to calm down as she returned her attention to McGee. Suddenly she felt his fingers move against hers and the beeping of his heart monitor increased. She saw his features twist in obvious pain and his grip on her hand tightened.

"McGee?"

His lids snapped open but his gaze remained unfocused as his eyes flicked back and forth, searching for what ever it was that was clearly terrifying him. An alarm on the heart monitor went off as Ziva tried to comfort him.

"McGee, it is alright. You must calm down. No one is going to hurt you."

"No…please…" His voice was hoarse from disuse and the ventilator but his words were clear. "Don't…"

"McGee, you are safe. Please, calm down."

"No…Tony…no…please…don't…"

Before she could respond to his desperate pleas Ziva was pushed out of the way as several doctors and nurses rushed to McGee's aid. She could only stand by and watch as they injected something into his IV to bring his galloping heartbeat under control. Just as the alarm was silenced and the beeping returned to more normal levels, he turned his head and his eyes fixed on hers. He was obviously struggling to keep them open, but the drugs they had given him were quickly pulling him under. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, followed by more soothing words, but they died in her throat when she saw his expression of abject terror.

"Please…Tony…don't…kill…"

His final word was lost as he slipped into oblivion. The nurses did one last check before they left again and Ziva approached McGee's bed to place a trembling hand on his forehead. She never noticed the figure in the doorway watching them. The man studied the two agents for only a few seconds before a satisfied smirk formed on his face and he left, pulling out his cell phone as he headed for the elevators.

TBC…

A/N: "Standing mute" is one of four pleas accepted in an indictment. It's considered an unspoken "not guilty".