Gibbs did a double take as he passed Tony's desk.

The agent was sleeping with his head down on his folded arms. He looked pale.

Gibbs drifted over in front of Ziva.

"Anything happen that I should know about?" he motioned behind him to Tony.

She looked up form behind her desk, and sighed. "I know he was down to see Ducky before. But I do not know what it was about. He just came up looking very tired and then seemed to honk out on his desk."

"Konk. The term is "konk out", Ziva. Only cars honk," McGee said as he too approached her desk, glancing worriedly at his SFA.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, konk then. But I don't know what a "konk" is."

"Boss?"

"Yeah, McGee?" Gibbs turned a little to face him.

"Tony…" he looked over again at his friend. "Is he…is he alright? I mean, who could be alright after what happened to him, but…will he? Will he be okay?"

Gibbs knew McGee had been very affected by what happened to Tony, and was deeply concerned about him, as they all were.

"He will be, once we get Latham."

"And Stratton." McGee said, and though Gibbs knew the evil bastard was gone, he just nodded his head. It wasn't his secret to tell.

"I want to ask Abby to help us dispose of the SecNav," Ziva said, quite reasonably, as if she were talking about drinking tea. McGee's mouth dropped open. She continued. "So there is no trace. I only need thirty seconds alone with hi-"

"Agent David," Gibbs said gently, with a little smile, "NCIS is not Mossad."

"Well, maybe I should quit. For a week, or two. And come back after."

Gibbs let out a little snort, but then said more seriously, "At this point, Jarvis is the least of anyone's troubles. Kort and Latham…they are the focus, you understand that? Both of you?" He looked back and forth between Ziva and McGee, who both nodded, but Ziva with a sour look.

They were startled a little by Tony's hand jerking on his desk in his sleep, knocking into his keyboard.

He suddenly jumped a little and picked up his head, looking dazed.

"Silver…something…"he said sleepily…and then sat up, looking at his desk.

"You okay?" Gibbs asked, walking to stand in front of his desk as the others looked on.

Tony looked up at him, confused. "Uh…what?"

"I said, are you okay?"

He scratched the side of his head for a moment. "Yeah, Boss…I just…was dreaming…" Tony looked up at him. He saw Gibbs was worried.

"M'fine, Boss. Really."

"You just said something…when you woke up."

Tony blinked a few times, then looked down again. "Did I?"

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I dunno…I think I heard…" Ziva and McGee were hanging on his words, and he became self-conscious. "Never mind. I can't remember already."

"You not feeling well? Maybe we should get you back home."

"No…I,…took extra pain medicine because … Ducky had to take out some of my stitches…" He didn't look at any of them as he said it.

That explains it, Gibbs thought.

"I can give him a ride, Boss, if you have things you still have to do here," McGee offered.

"Nah. We got nothin' right now. We're off rotation for new cases until Latham's sting goes down." He smiled at them, "Time to go home. Tomorrow, going through cold cases. Everyone."

They groaned.

Tony was quiet again in the car on the way home.

"Somethin' on your mind, Tony?"

He shook his head.

Gibbs knew something was bothering him, but he would wait and try to talk to him again after dinner.

They got in, and Gibbs threw together a basic steak dinner.

When he threw the plates down on the table, Tony eyed the baked potato, which was next to the meat, strangely.

Gibbs started eating. After a minute, he looked at Tony, who was sighing, and still eyeing the plate.

Tony hadn't given them all that detail from the interrogation room, on the evil speaking potato from Latham's dinners.

"Somethin' wrong with the food, Dinozzo?"

"Ah, no, Boss. It looks great." Tony picked up the silverware on the table, cutting into his steak, and took a bite.

Unfortunately, his mind was on Latham's state room. And the things that always lead up to him being in that chair at the dinner table.

Gibbs was watching his eyes. He knew Tony was off somewhere, in his mind, replaying...something.

Tony tried another bite, but, knew if he ate much more...it was going to end up in the toilet.

He sat back, and said, " Sorry Boss...I just...I'm not very hungry..."

Gibbs shrugged. "S'okay. You can have it later if you want it."

Tony, nodded, and patiently sat while Gibbs finished, not wanting to be rude. But the whole time, he wanted to bolt from the table, and get away from the plate of food.

As Gibbs got up to take his plate in, Tony got up, following him, muttering, "Nothin' to say now, huh, you bastard," at the potato.

Maybe fries would work better. The evil potato in another form… less recognizable.

After they were done cleaning up, Tony kept Gibbs company, in the basement while he worked on the boat.

Gibbs poured a shot of bourbon for them both, and continued to sand, while Tony watched him, silently sitting on the steps.

He was covertly hoping the bit of alcohol with Tony's painkillers would affect him… and his tongue. So he could get things off his chest.

His patience panned out somewhat after the second shot.

"The dinners with Latham...sometimes...they went a little badly..."

Gibbs looked up at him.

"Well, most of it...was pretty bad, actually," he snorted to himself.

"But...some things...get fuzzy..., he shook his head slightly,"disjointed…"

Gibbs shifted a little on his feet, and said, "That's to be expected, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Tony said pulling himself up and walking down the stairs. " But, there was something...I feel like...I dunno. Something I should understand...about the voices..."

He stood by the boat, running a hand over some of the wood, while Gibbs watched him.

"I still hear them sometimes..." he said it almost absently, eyes drifting over the grain of the plank as he rubbed it with his finger.

He swallowed, "And in my dreams...it's almost like, I can hear what they're saying...I get so close..."

He sighed again. He suddenly felt exhausted, resting his head against the boat.

After a while, he felt Gibbs put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, let's call it a day. There'll be plenty of time to think about it when you're not asleep on your feet."

Tony nodded, and followed him upstairs.

He was on the deck of the Phantom.

It was night.

He was looking out at the sea, as the cruiser cut cleanly through the waves.

He looked around ...but he was completely alone. Except...

A subtle sound was surrounding him…the voices starting to whisper once again, their maddening, overlapping murmur making him instantly angry and fearful.

He clenched his fists.

Just then, he saw a boy running towards him on the flight deck.

He looked to be only about seven or eight years old.

Gibbs was running behind him.

Tony didn't understand what was happening until he saw the grotesquely large bird flying, it's talons reaching for the boy. It was right over them.

The bird was the size of a rhinocerous.

What kind of bird was this ?

Gibbs had his gun out and was trying to shoot it, but he was too far away, and the boy tripped.

Tony took off in their direction.

It was too late.

The grey and white monster was tearing and pulling flesh off the boy, as his scream was abruptly cut off by the vicious beak ending his life.

Gibbs was yelling hoarsely at it. His shots did nothing to stop it.

As he caught up to it, he launched himself at it, while Tony screamed for him to stop.

It was too late for the boy.

And now it furiously turned to Gibbs, striking at him with its sharp claws, tearing at his flesh.

Gibbs fell back, covered in blood, a wound to his neck bleeding out in large, pumping spurts.

"NO!" Tony shrieked.

The bird turned back to continue eating the dead child.

Tony held Gibbs in his arms, crying, while the blood soaked through his clothing.

He tried to compress the neck wound, but it was too deep, and he saw his friend's eyes close.

"Gibbs!" he tapped the man's cheek, smearing some blood on his face.

Gibbs slipped away quickly, dying in his arms while he sobbed.

He was suddenly knocked down to the ground, as the bird now started to strike at him with its beak.

As the head came closer, and its talon shredded his chest, he saw a reflection in it's eye.

It was Stratton, smiling.

Gibbs knew he should've expected a bad one after the way Tony had seemed all day, but he didn't know it would be this bad.

When the agonized screaming came from downstairs he bolted, almost falling down half of them, before he got to Tony.

He was on his side, completely drenched in sweat, and Gibbs quickly leaned down to shake him.

It took a moment longer, than usual, to wake him.

Tony's eyes opened, showing the pure terror and confusion in them, and it ripped Gibbs apart inside.

"Tony, it's a nightmare. Just a dream…" He tried to soothe, but he saw the look on the younger man's face, pinched and wincing.

He grabbed the small wastebasket from the side of the end table as Tony leaned over and vomited into it.

Gibbs got up, and got a washcloth and glass of water, hearing Tony gagging a few more times before it stopped.

As Tony leaned back against the maple wood headboard of the bed, dazed, Gibbs passed the cloth over his face and put the water on the nightstand.

But Tony just shivered, and seemed to be somewhere else, not looking at Gibbs or saying anything.

Gibbs was getting nervous.

"Tony."

Nothing.

"Tony," he said more loudly.

Gibbs picked up his hand and stroked Tony's forehead with it.

"Come on, DiNozzo," he begged now.

Finally, just when Gibbs was about to get up and call Ducky, his eyes shifted up to Gibbs'.

"You with me?"

Tony nodded slightly, but still said nothing.

Gibbs handed him the water, and Tony took it, almost mechanically.

"Drink it," Gibbs ordered gently.

Tony did that.

Gibbs took the glass when he was done, and placed it on the nightstand again.

He took a deep breath. "You're scarin' the Hell outta' me here."

Tony swallowed, and said in a barely audible voice, "M'sorry, Boss."

"No apologies."

Tony smiled, just a little and looked at him.

"After we get Latham," Gibbs began softly, "I…think we should get Doc Cranston to help out with this."

Tony looked down, and nodded again.

"But…" Gibbs continued, "I think you need to take Latham down with us…it's important for you…you have to see it through."

"I…" Tony cleared his throat to make sound come out of it. "I'm glad you understand that. Because, the SecNav didn't seem to think I should be in on it."

Gibbs looked at him and smiled. "Wouldn't be the first time he got it wrong."

"Thanks, Boss," he looked at him, with deep gratitude coming from the green eyes.

"I told you, DiNozzo, I've got your six. Always."

Tony nodded, unable to speak again for the lump in his throat.