A/N: Don't get crazy people. This is not a Tiva story. Just an emotional moment because of all the stress.
Gibbs went down to the basement, leaving Ziva and Tony to themselves.
She went into the kitchen, and brought him a slice of pizza. He managed a little over half, though it tasted like heaven to him, he could not keep more down.
"I got your spare clothes from your locker at work." she sat close to him, feet up on the couch.
"Thanks," he said as he leaned on his good side on the couch. "The clothes I have on came from a generous Sardinian policeman." It was comfortable on Gibbs' couch. And then he realized, "You don't have my combination."
She smiled and rolled her eyes.
"Oh right, you picked it. All those ninja skills and you used them to get into my...pants..." he grinned at her.
"You know, in spite of your adolescent comments...we missed you." she looked at him intently.
"We...or...you?"
She looked at him for a moment, wide-eyed, but then chortled. "Gibbs has been impossible."
"M'shocked."
"McGee has been a little lost."
"In spite of the whole nose business, huh ?"
"And Abby has been...well, she drained the Caf-Pow machine to empty three times in the time you were missing..."
"Did she glow in the dark?"
She smiled and shook her head. Then said more seriously, " We didn't know what happened to you...it was...difficult. For us all."
He gazed into her dark eyes, and sighed, looking down for a moment. "I didn't think I was gonna' make it home, Ziva. I'm not sure…even why I'm alive…"
He felt her hand, gently stroke his cheek. He leaned into it, closing his eyes. It was soft and cool against his hot skin.
"I was... so worried, about you," she said hoarsely.
He opened his eyes, and saw she was crying.
"Ziva," he whispered, pulling her close.
She put her arms around him, and rested her head on his shoulder.
"We almost lost you..."
"Well," he said, stroking her hair, "I'm the luckiest unlucky guy alive. Or...just very hard to kill."
She let out a shaky laugh. Then her hand hit the texture of stitches underneath the fabric on back of his shirt. She felt a little for the end of it, but it continued down to the bandaged wrapping around his ribs.
She picked up her head, suddenly looking at him, eyes wide. Her brow furrowed as she forced the words out, " What did they do to you?"
He shook his head, "No...I…I don't wanna' talk about it..." he looked down at her neck, back to her chin, and then eyes. He whispered, "Please."
Her expression softened, and she nodded. Her heart ached for him. She brought trembling fingers to his face, and looked down at his mouth as she came closer to him.
For a moment, he couldn't breathe.
They heard Gibbs suddenly coming up the steps from the basement, and she moved back a little from him.
The icy blue eyes passed over both of them, just for a moment before he locked his gaze on Tony.
"Just got a call from Vance. The Phantom reported one of it's MH-60's went down on a training flight, lost at sea with three men on it. Two officers and a civilian. CPO2 Brian O'Shea, a CP2 Michael Hendricks, and... the civilian, was John Stratton."
Tony, looked up at him, stunned. Then he looked away, trying to absorb it.
"Somethin' you wanna tell me?" Gibbs asked softly.
Tony looked at the floor, and shook his head. In his mind, he was throwing Stratton over the rail again...
He stood up, and slowly began to pace, as Ziva looked from him to Gibbs worriedly.
"Training accident..." Tony sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He was starting to limp again a little, Gibbs thought likely it was from the broken ribs hurting. It was likely time for more pain medication.
He stopped suddenly, looking at Gibbs, "I guess it's good he thinks I'm dead, along with Brian...but, it's wrong. O'Shea deserves so much more than that..." he shook his head, eyes watering. "If it weren't for him..." it was barely a whisper. He seemed to sway again.
Gibbs put a hand on his elbow, "I think it's time for pain meds, then bed."
Tony nodded, feeling entirely drained.
"I am going to go, "Ziva said while she rose from the couch. "I will see you both tomorrow. Good night, Tony," she said, touching his arm lightly, and he worked up a wan smile for her.
"Gibbs."
"Nite' Ziva." Gibbs said as she smiled at him and left.
"Come on," Gibbs said gently, seeing that Tony was practically ready to fall down again.
He wanted to finish the discussion they were having earlier, but he could see Tony was in no condition for it.
He got the younger man to the guest room bed, medication down, and lights out. Tony was asleep before he even hit the pillow.
Gibbs knew he had to make Tony understand about the file, but also he knew Tony was right. He should have shown him the file... it's implications were so damned scary. He had wanted to try and find out how much Jarvis was entrenched with Latham, before figuring out what to do about it.
He went to sleep, uneasy, with Tony's recounting of the past few weeks, and the plan he was developing with Vance and Jarvis in his mind. Thinking about Jarvis…and Latham made his blood boil. Sleep was not going to happen if he kept the line of thinking up.
He took a shaky breath in the dark, and forced himself to close his eyes and relax.
Gibbs was suddenly awake and the clock read 04:47.
He sat up quickly, feeling something was wrong.
Quietly, he got out of bed, and worked his way downstairs, towards the guest room.
As he arrived at the doorway, he could see a little bit of grey light coming from the dawn outside. Tony was twitching a little in his sleep, face and neck covered in sweat. He was taking rapid, gasping breaths. The smallest of moans escaped him.
Tony was hanging from his wrists again, naked. It was part of it, of their trying to break him. Stripping him of clothing took away a layer of his identity. Either that or Stratton got a sick thrill off it.
He was only allowed to be in the scrubs for a while when they had to take him to different cabins, or on the "nice" days of dinner with Latham.
Earlier, they had him tied to the chair, giving him shocks at Stratton's command until he almost blacked out.
"Tony, Tony, Tony," he noticed Stratton never called him "Agent DiNozzo"…another subtle way to break him down. "I know you want things to get easier between us. You just have to tell me when you know." Tony was confused by what he was saying.
He felt the knife tip, dull and painful as Stratton pointed it right over his right shoulder blade. He knew what was coming, and tried to brace himself.
The voices in his head were whispering furiously, and he was starting to see things again…he was determined to ride out the pain this time without giving Stratton the satisfaction of his screaming. But suddenly swords appeared in his vision, blade up, all around him in a tight circle. In this hallucination, he was caught in the middle of them, on a big rock in the middle of the sea, salty waves smashing against its sides. Off in the distance, a ship was slowly sailing away, leaving him there. It was his chance to escape and they were leaving him there. He felt the blade dragging down his back, and Stratton's almost gleeful hiss in his ear, "Who owns you?" He wanted to get away desperately, now trying to move the swords away, but they cut his hands, and blood ran down his arms. Though he didn't want to, had sworn he was not going to, he finally let out a mournful wail, and gasped, sobbing as the knife blade tore the rest of the way down his back.
Suddenly Gibbs was above him, shaking him gently, calling his name. He was confused, and looked quickly at his hands for blood from the swords he had been desperate to move.
There was none.
He could feel the wetness on his face, and his heart was still thundering in his skull.
"Tony," Gibbs was sounding more anxious for him to respond.
He looked at him, blinking. "Boss…what…where am I?"
Gibbs stomach flipped over at the question. He sat now on the edge of the bed. With a hand sitting lightly on Tony's arm, he said, "My house, remember?"
Tony looked around for a moment, at the room, and then back to Gibbs.
"Yeah," he nodded, and then pushed himself up, wincing. "I just…dreams can confuse me. Anytime I've slept over the past few days, it's like…it's like…" he was unable to finish, trying to control his fear, and not start to cry in front of Gibbs.
"It's like you're back there." Gibbs said it quietly.
Tony nodded, looking down.
"You wanna' talk about it?"
Tony shook his head, looking back up at him.
"I have your six. If you need to, you tell me. Anything." With that he saw the defiance start to rise in the younger man's eyes.
"The file," he sighed. He had to do it. Break his own policy on apologies.
"I was gonna' tell you when I had the picture straight… when I knew for sure if Jarvis was involved. It was the wrong thing. I should have shown it to you. I was…wrong."
The shock on Tony's face told him the younger man knew he was sincere, and was in no way expecting Gibbs to say that.
"Maybe…" Gibbs swallowed, "this…wouldn't have happened to you, if I'd done that." The pain was there, in his voice.
Tony just stared at him, saying nothing for a moment.
Then he shook his head. "Boss…there's no telling what would have been. I don't blame you for this. I don't. I was the damned idiot who had the chip implanted. I just…I just need to know… I need to trust you. We can't be a team with any more secrets…even ones with the right intentions behind them." Tony felt the hypocrisy of what he was saying.
Gibbs smiled, just a little sadly, "Okay."
"I…have to tell you something…" he looked away from his friend for a moment.
Gibbs saw Tony's shaking intensify.
"Tony, if it's about what they did…to you, I think it can w-"
"No, Gibbs…can't. It can't wait." He took a deep breath, and looked him in the eye. "Stratton…I…I didn't leave him…on the deck –" his voice had weakened considerably, his throat constricting with fear.
"You threw him over." Gibbs stated it plainly, with no recrimination.
Tony looked at him with widened eyes. "How did you-"
"It's what I would've done."
"But," it came out in an agonized whisper, as he looked away from Gibbs, "doesn't that make me almost as bad as him? It's not like returning fire, or defending yourself –"
"Yes. It is. Look at me, Tony." He waited until the green eyes were locked on him. "That bastard, killed people you care about, and he did…terrible things to you. The only natural reaction, the only sane reaction, would be to make sure he could never do them again. After that kind of torture…He tortured you. You were defending yourself."
Tony nodded, and licked his lips. He looked away again and took a shaky breath.
Gibbs said, "You need to get some more rest. A lot is going on today."
Tony snapped to attention. "The plan to get Latham?"
"Formulating. Almost there…just a few pieces to get into place."
"I want in."
Gibbs nodded. "You got it, DiNozzo."