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

Chapter 4

The sound of footsteps approaching his cell pulled Tony from his daze and he sat up on his bed, hoping that someone from outside would finally be visiting. It had been more than three days since he had spoken to Gibbs, and since then the only visitors he had had were the psychologist assigned to evaluate him and his lawyer, whose only purpose seemed to be to tell him that there were no developments in his case. Tony had tried to get both visitors to update him on McGee's condition, but neither had been able to ease his anxiety concerning his partner.

The footsteps stopped outside his cell and Tony heard the lock disengage before the door swung open to reveal a vaguely familiar figure instead of the expected guard. It took him a moment to put a name to the face and he felt the faint stirrings of unease when he remembered.

"Lieutenant Doyle? What are you doing here?"

Doyle watched him for a moment with an expression that Tony could only interpret as disgust before he finally spoke.

"Agent McGee woke up about an hour ago."

Tony felt a surge of relief. "How is he? Does he remember what happened?" He desperately wanted to ask to speak to his partner, but he doubted it would be allowed.

"He was terrified," Doyle responded, the disgust now clear in his voice. "The doctors had to sedate him again to prevent any more damage. But he did remember one thing: he was begging you not to kill him."

All the hope that Tony had built up after Gibbs' visit vanished. "Oh, God…"

"So why don't you do us all a favor, and cut the act, DiNozzo. You tried to kill your partner. He remembers it, even though you claim you don't. Me, I'm not buying this 'trauma-induced amnesia' crap. You know what you did, so stop trying to deny it."

"I swear, I don't remember!"

"Yeah, right. What kind of a sick bastard puts someone through what you did to Agent McGee? And now he's going to have to deal with all of your crap while he's trying to recover." Doyle shook his head. "Too bad he didn't figure out what you were really like before you betrayed him."

Tony wanted to protest but the words stuck in his throat. He couldn't deny that the same thoughts had passed through his mind since this whole thing had started…

"Nothing to say?" Doyle sneered. "Must be quite a shock. You didn't expect him to survive, did you?"

"I didn't want him to die. I…I never even meant to hurt him, I swear."

"The evidence says otherwise. Might want to reconsider your plea. You'd save yourself and everyone else, especially Agent McGee, a lot of trouble."

Again, Tony found himself unable to respond. The only thing that was keeping him grounded at the moment was the belief that Gibbs knew he had been set up. He clung to that bit of hope, but even that idea was starting to ring false in light of what Doyle had revealed.

Doyle watched him struggle for a moment and snorted in disgust. "Well, if you're not willing to do the right thing, I guess I need to go have a chat with the DA. I expect you'll be hearing from him soon enough." Doyle backed out of the doorway and the door slammed shut, leaving Tony alone with his guilt.

XXX

Ziva stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall towards Abby's lab, her normal brisk pace slowed by both exhaustion and apprehension. She had spent the rest of the night with McGee in case he awoke again, hoping that if he did it would not be as traumatic as that first waking had been. Part of her had wanted him to wake up at tell her what she feared was not true, but another part had been disgusted by her selfishness. McGee needed to heal. That was the important thing. Everything else could be dealt with when he was no longer in danger of dying.

The events of the previous night played over and over in her mind. The thought of McGee, usually so steadfast in his desire not to show emotion, in the state in which she had seen him when he awoke had disturbed her more than she cared to admit. The idea that her other partner had been the cause of it…No. She still could not believe that Tony would intentionally hurt McGee. She held firm to the idea that Tony had not been, could not have been in his right mind. The question was, how could they prove it? And even if they could, and Tony was acquitted, how was McGee going to handle the idea that a man he had trusted on some level for years had done this to him, intentionally or not? And how would Tony handle the knowledge that it had been his hands that wielded the knife, even if the intent was not his own?

When Ziva finally entered the lab, she saw Abby standing at her computer, typing furiously and chattering to herself in what sounded like some strange language Ziva had never encountered before. She stepped closer to see what the forensic scientist was studying, but it was completely foreign to her as well. Abby noticed her presence and turned, an excited, almost manic expression on her face.

"Ziva! I found something! Something in Tony's blood that most definitely doesn't belong!"

"What is it?"

Abby huffed in annoyance. "That's the problem, I haven't figured it out yet. It's not in Major Mass Spec's library, and I haven't been able to find any references to it in any database so far. I've been trying to figure out its chemical structure, but it's tricky, and I've been trying to contact someone so I can run it through an NMR, since that in addition to the Mass Spec will help me figure out the structure, but—"

"Abby! What do you think it is?"

"I think, well, I'm really hoping, that it's some sort of synthetic psychotropic drug. You know, something that can explain Tony's behavior and why he can't remember anything."

"Is there a chance that this drug could cause…violent behavior?"

"What do you mean?" Abby asked, suddenly suspicious.

"Could it have made Tony…do something he would not normally do, against his will?"

An expression with which Ziva was all too familiar appeared on Abby face. "You can't possibly think that Tony would—"

"Abby, I am sorry, but…McGee woke up last night, and—"

"You didn't tell me?" she screeched. "How is he? Does he remember anything? What did he say? I need to see him, he—"

"ABBY!" The woman flinched at Ziva's tone and the agent took a deep breath to calm herself before she continued. "I am sorry. He was only awake for a few moments, and…he was not completely coherent, but…he was afraid. Afraid and begging for his life."

"Oh, God, poor Timmy…but what makes you think-?"

"The only name he mentioned was Tony's. McGee was pleading for Tony not to…well, I am not sure. He did not finish what he was trying to say."

Abby stared at her, wide-eyed, an expression of horror clear on her face. "So you think…?"

"I do not know. I do not want to believe it, but…if Tony was under the influence of some drug, then…"

"It's not his fault."

"Only if we can prove what it was, what it made him do, and that Tony did not know what he was doing or had no control."

"And we will." She turned back to her screen. "I will figure this out. For Tony…and Timmy. He needs to know, too." She turned back to Ziva. "He's going to be OK, right?"

"I hope so."

"Me, too. We have to get our team back together, Ziva. We have to."

"I know, Abby." I just hope we can…

XXX

"You have a visitor."

Tony looked up at the guard and nodded. He had been expecting this since Doyle had showed up the previous night and told him what McGee had said. Tony had spent the night trying his damnedest to remember what had happened in McGee's apartment that night, but his mind had remained stubbornly blank. He had wound up just sitting and staring down at his own hands, almost able to see McGee's blood staining them, and had wondered what could have possible led him to harm his partner.

Tony rose and waited for the guard to perform his all-too-familiar ritual of affixing the restraints before he followed the man to interview room. He was expecting to see Gibbs, or perhaps Vance, but the man seated at the table was honestly the last person he had expected, or wanted, to see. As soon as the man saw Tony, he leapt to his feet.

"Junior, what the hell is going on?"

"Sir, you need to sit down," barked the guard.

"What are you doing here, Dad?" asked Tony as his father followed the guard's orders.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing…in this place?" He ran his hands through his hair. "And why didn't you call me?"

Tony waited until the guard left before he responded. "Call you? For what? You're here, so obviously someone told you."

"Yes, a reporter called me last night, want to know how I felt about my son the federal agent being charged with attempted murder of his partner! What happened? " He met Tony's gaze. "Is this some sort of undercover thing?"

"If it was, do you really think I could tell you? And no, it's not an 'undercover thing'. It's real."

"But why? Why would you-?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Dad," Tony yelled, and winced before lowering his voice to normal levels. "You've been expecting something like this for years."

The shocked expression on Senior's face was surprisingly genuine. "What are you talking about?"

"You're telling me you don't remember? 'That temper of yours. You'll wind up in the gutter.'"

Shock morphed into indignation. "I never said anything like that!"

"Guess your memory's not what it used to be. Then again, you were drunk at the time, so I guess it's possible it slipped your mind." Part of Tony was horrified at the way he was speaking to his father, but another part, the part that had been rubbed raw by everything that had happened over the past week…well, that part didn't care and it was in control.

"Son, if I ever said such a thing, you must know I didn't mean it."

"No, I think you did. But that doesn't matter now. What do you want?"

"I wanted…I wanted to see if you were OK."

Tony let out a bark of humorless laughter. "Oh, fine. Three hots and a cot, I've got it made. Just a few details to work out, though: life in prison with or without the possibility of parole."

"But the rest of your team…surely they know you didn't—"

"Except the part where I did: I stabbed my partner, my friend, and even though I don't remember doing it…you know what? It doesn't matter. Sorry you made the trip for nothing, Dad."

"Junior…son, we'll find a way out of this. Let me call my lawyer, I'm sure he can—"

"You mean the lawyer you really can't afford? I doubt he can help me. Guard!" he called, and the man almost immediately appeared. "I'm ready to go back to my cell. So long, Dad."

"Junior, wait!"

Tony ignored his father's pleas and shuffled out of the room. He was sure Senior would soon figure out he wasn't needed and would get back to his own life. It was what he had always done.

XXX

Gibbs rubbed a weary hand over his eyes as he sat next to McGee's hospital bed, watching and waiting for some sign that his agent was returning to consciousness. Ziva had told him what had happened the previous night, and while he still couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that Tony had somehow done this, he held on to the belief that this whole nightmare was some horrible, twisted set up designed to bring down the heart of his team. He just wished he knew why.

"How is he?"

Gibbs looked up to see Ducky standing at the foot of McGee's bed.

"Still out. The doc says he's getting stronger, but the more rest he gets, the better. They don't want another incident like last night."

"I imagine not," Ducky replied as he checked through the reports. "He's very fortunate to have made it this far, Jethro."

"Yeah, I know. I just want…"

"Your team back together. I'm not sure how possible that will be at this point, but if anyone can figure this out, we will."

"Yeah. Just wish it hadn't happened in the first place. How did I miss it, Duck? The sign that something was so wrong with DiNozzo?"

"I honestly don't believe you did, Jethro. No doubt that was part of the plan for whoever did set this in motion."

Gibbs let his gaze rest on the pale, silent form on the bed. "What about McGee? What if he can't come back from this?"

"Timothy is resilient, that is certain, but I understand your concern. It will be a long road to recovery, but I believe he will prevail."

"Hope you're right, Duck." Suddenly he noticed a slight shift in McGee's breathing pattern and he focused his attention on the young man's face. McGee's features were crinkled in an expression of confusion, although his eyes remained closed.

"McGee? Tim, can you hear me?"

Slowly McGee's eyes opened and he blinked. His gaze was unfocused as it made a circuit of his surroundings, finally coming to rest on the face that hovered over him.

"McGee? You with me?"

He blinked again and almost immediately his lids snapped shut and his jaw clenched as his pain obviously made itself known. Ducky left to get help and Gibbs put what he hoped was a comforting hand on McGee's trembling arm.

"It's OK, Tim. You're going to be OK."

Soon Ducky returned with the doctor and one of the nurses. They quickly evaluated their patient before finally administering an analgesic. They watched as Tim started to relax and after another quick check of his vitals, the doctor turned to Gibbs.

"We'll get him set up with a pain management system as soon as we can. In the meantime, make sure he stays calm. He'll probably want to go back to sleep soon, so let him."

"You got it, Doc."

After the doctor and nurse left, Gibbs returned his attention to his agent. "McGee?" he asked as he moved his hand to rest on the younger man's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Boss..?" Tim's voice was weak and raspy, and almost on cue the nurse returned with ice chips which Gibbs immediately started feeding to him. "What…?"

"You're OK, McGee. You're going to be fine."

"We're very happy to see you awake, Timothy," added Ducky. "But you do need your rest. If you want to sleep, don't fight it. One of us will be here when you wake up."

"What…happened?"

Gibbs felt his heart sink. Whatever memory Tim may have had when he first awoke seemed to have left him for now.

"What do you remember?" Ducky asked with a warning look at Gibbs.

"I don't…" His eyelids started to droop and Gibbs was certain he would soon be down for the count, but suddenly they snapped open.

"Tony!"

"It's alright, Tim," Gibbs soothed as the heart monitor showed McGee's distress. "Don't worry—"

"Is he…OK?"

Gibbs froze, not sure if he'd heard correctly. Tim saw the shocked expression Gibbs had been too startled to hide and a look of despair appeared on his face.

"Oh no…please…tell me…he isn't…dead."

Gibbs glanced at Ducky, but the M.E. appeared just a surprised as he felt.

"He's not dead, Tim," Gibbs replied as he studied McGee's reaction. Relief appeared on the younger man's face and the beeping of the heart monitor slowed slightly.

"Is he hurt? Is he…is he here, too?"

"He's fine, Tim. He wasn't injured." Although 'fine' was stretching it, Gibbs was fairly sure McGee wasn't ready to hear the whole truth.

"Thank…God. T-they said…they said they were going…to d-destroy h-him. Tony."

"Who, Tim?" Gibbs could see that McGee was fighting to stay awake, and he felt a flash of guilt for not allowing him to rest, but he needed to know.

"Two men…never saw them before…they were in my…apartment. I c-couldn't…I couldn't f-fight them."

"And they wanted to 'destroy' Tony? Did they say why?"

"F-first the son…t-then the f-father…" Gibbs saw a flash of anguish in McGee's eyes. "I…they said I was…c-collateral d-damage…"

Gibbs fought to control the surge of fury he felt, both towards the men that had done this, and the man that had apparently caused it. He saw the broken look in McGee's eyes and experienced a stab of guilt.

"It's OK, Tim…and they were wrong. You're not collateral damage, not to us."

McGee gave him a very weak smile. "T-thanks, Boss…"

"Do you remember anything else?"

"Jethro…" Ducky admonished, but Gibbs sent him a look and he quieted as both men returned their focus to the injured man.

"I…I remember they said…they lured Tony…to my apartment. I saw…I saw him come in, and…they did something…knocked him out. I couldn't move…and…oh God, one of them had a knife, and…" McGee's eyes snapped shut, the pain he had felt obviously returning to him. "It hurt so much, but I couldn't…I'm sorry, Boss."

Gibbs rubbed McGee's forehead as he tried to ease the pain of the memory. "It's OK, Tim. It's OK."

"Jethro, I must insist…"

"Yeah, Duck, I know."

"His eyes…"

"What, Tim?" Gibbs could see that McGee was truly struggling to stay awake but he still managed to speak.

"The man…who s-stabbed me…his eyes…didn't match. One brown…one blue."

"That's a place to start," Gibbs whispered and Ducky nodded. He looked back down at McGee and saw that he was finally asleep. Gibbs let his hand linger on McGee's forehead for a moment before he withdrew and pulled out his cell phone as he stood up. He quickly pressed a number. "Ziva? I'm at the hospital with McGee. I need you here, now." He snapped the phone shut. "Keep an eye on him until Ziva gets here, Duck. No one else comes in until I get back. I don't want these bastards to get another crack at him."

"But where are you going?"

"To get my agent out of jail."

XXX

Tony startled awake, surprised that he had managed to sleep at all, and tried to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Suddenly he was hit with the sensation that he was not alone.

"Who's there?"

The silence was oppressive, but Tony thought that he just barely heard something… someone breathing. He held his own breath and confirmed that there was someone else hiding in the darkness. He immediately rolled off his bed and took a defensive stance, waiting for the first concrete sign of his visitor. When nothing happened, he decided to push them into action.

"What do you want? Huh? Come on!"

Suddenly something rushed at him and he felt a solid object across his throat. He fought back, but his oxygen supply was quickly dwindling and he struggled to stay conscious. Just as everything began to fade out, he thought he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

TBC…