Part 11

The elevator doors opened, granting its two occupants access to the familiar orange that always greeted them upon arrival. Special Agent Timothy McGee and Mossad Officer Ziva David entered the bullpen, each one looking forward to a brief respite from an exhausting couple of days. They had just relinquished custody of Charles Sterling, Warden Phillips, and Carl Banks, to the FBI and were coming to the office to finish up the required paperwork, making sure that everything was in order; Tony's freedom was at stake and they didn't want to do anything to jeopardize it.

Ziva slid into her seat, her gaze coming to rest on the empty desk directly across from her. Although there had been several attempts to fill that vacant seat, no one had been able to fill Tony's shoes. She never really had the chance to get to know DiNozzo before he had been arrested; her knowledge of him had been based on an intelligence file and the few months that she had been part of the team. The one thing that she had quickly discovered was that Anthony DiNozzo was a complex man; there were many layers to the former agent and he was very guarded. Ziva was looking forward to perhaps peeling away a few of those layers and getting to know the man that had been the focal point of their lives for the last year.

"Do you think he will come back to work?" she asked McGee, startling him out of what she assumed to be his own private thoughts.

"Tony?" McGee replied, clearly caught off guard by her question.

"Who else would I be talking about? Once Tony is cleared, he is free to resume his life," she pointed out. "He should want to come back to work; am I right?"

"I don't think it's going to be that easy," the young agent stated. "Probably the last thing on Tony's mind is coming back to work. He's basically starting over and he may decide to do something else with his life."

"I hope not. What little I saw him in action, Tony seems like he was a capable agent."

"Truthfully, he was one of the best."

She was surprised to hear McGee's admission. On more than one occasion, Ziva had witnessed Tony's merciless teasing of the younger man; she had always assumed that it was a source of annoyance for McGee. It was obvious that Tim truly respected and admired DiNozzo. Ziva wondered if perhaps she should have taken the time over the past year to get to know more about Tony.

They had been undercover and she had pieced together a few pieces of the puzzle that was Tony DiNozzo, but she was still wary about letting anyone get too close. In her mind, Ziva had just been following orders and running down leads because of the kinship that she felt with Gibbs. She had never truly believed that the former agent had been capable of murder, but had she simply been trusting the team leader's instincts or had the Mossad officer managed to place a miniscule amount of faith in the man known as Tony DiNozzo?

"I did not know that you felt that way about him," she finally said. "I knew that you do not believe him capable of murder and have been working diligently to prove his innocence, but I did not realize that you held him in such high regard."

"I don't guess I realized it until he was gone," Tim admitted. "It didn't take me long to figure out how much Gibbs truly relied on Tony; he had the ability to anticipate what Gibbs needed and to think outside the box. I've been here over two years and I still can't do that. I deal in facts and sometimes as an investigator, you need to be able to look beyond the facts and pull that missing piece out of the air that completes the puzzle; Tony can do that and I hope that if he comes back, he'll teach me how to do that."

Ziva nodded at Tim's accurate assessment of Tony. She could recall several times when the seemingly unnecessary movie reference or something just as obscure had provided a clue that would have substantial merit in whatever case they were working on. "Perhaps when he returns, he can teach us both."

McGee smiled. "Yeah, maybe."

She blew out a long breath as she struggled with the awkward silence. "So, I guess we better finish these reports before Gibbs has a horse."

"Cow," he automatically corrected.

"I will never get use to your American slang," Ziva sighed in slight frustration.

"You'll get the hang of it. Now, let's get to work and maybe when we're done, we can drop by the hospital and see how Tony's doing."

A smile escaped Ziva's lips as she considered Tim's suggestion. "That is an excellent idea; we can let Tony know that we are happy that he is going to be exonerated."

"Yeah," McGee agreed. "You know, I just hope that he agrees to see us. Tony's pretty much declined any visitors the past year; he even refused to see Gibbs."

Both agents easily recalled how unbearable Gibbs had been after Tony had refused to see him that first time. A myriad of anger, hurt, and confusion had fueled the team leader for several weeks until Ducky had braved the storm of Gibbs' wrath. A bottle of scotch and a heart to heart with the ME had somewhat soothed the fire within the Marine and helped him to refocus. Although Tony still refused to see him, Gibbs never quit trying and now, his perseverance had certainly paid off.

"Yes, but that was when he was in prison. Things are different now," she reminded him. "I think it will do him good to see a couple of friendly faces."

Before McGee could reply, Abby joined the two agents, having overheard the last part of their conversation. "You guys are going to see Tony? Can I tag along? I really need to see him! I have so much to tell him."

"I do not see why you cannot go with us," Ziva answered. She knew that Abby had a close relationship with Tony and his incarceration and subsequent refusal to accept visitors had been difficult for her to accept as well. The scientist had blamed herself for her friend going to prison and that guilt had been the driving force in her discovering that Chip had ultimately been responsible for framing Tony.

"Oh, good!" Abby excitedly proclaimed. "Let me go grab my stuff and I'll meet you in the garage. By the way, who's driving?"

"I am," Ziva and McGee answered in unison.

McGee cleared his throat. "Uh…Ziva, I think it's a good idea if I drive. Nothing against your driving; it's just that we want to arrive…well, you know…alive."

Ziva visibly bristled at the poorly disguised insult. "I have you know that I am an excellent driver; it is not my fault that your country has speed limits and one way streets. Besides, you drive too slow; we will never get to the hospital."

"Now, wait a minute," Tim protested.

"Never mind," Abby interjected. "I'll drive. So, how much longer before you can leave?"

"Uh, at least thirty minutes. We've got to finish our reports."

"Sounds good. That will give me time to call Sister Rosita and tell her the good news." Abby turned to leave and called back to them over her shoulder. Meet at my car in forty-five minutes."

As they watched Abby leave, Ziva sensed McGee glaring at her. "What?" she inquired, confused by the expression of irritation he now wore on his face.

"Have you ever ridden anywhere with Abby?"

"No."

"Oh…no reason," McGee said, turning his attention back to his report. "You'll find out soon enough. Let's just say you can ride shotgun."

Ziva tried to get her partner to explain what he meant, but McGee just smiled and continued typing. After several more failed attempts, she gave up and returned to her own report. Ziva doubted that she would ever understand Americans and their warped sense of humor; it was obvious that she had her work cut out for her if she was ever going to completely become a part of this team.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It had taken Tony a long time to accept that he was going to have to spend the rest of his life in that hell of a prison he had been sentenced to, and now, he was trying to figure out how he was supposed to resume the life that had been so savagely ripped from him by the system that once had held his trust. Truthfully, he was having a difficult time comprehending everything that had just happened in the past few hours; Tony understood that he had been framed by Chip, but the how and why escaped him.

The scientist's presence had always annoyed him, but Tony had thought that for the most part, he had treated the man with a modem of professional courtesy; he couldn't recall ever doing or saying anything that would warrant Chip setting him up. Tony couldn't deny that over the years, he had made several enemies—that was a hazard of the job, but that didn't explain the connection between him and Chip Sterling; as far as he knew, he had never met the guy. If he was pissing off people he didn't even know, then how was he supposed to live a normal life ever again? Would he constantly be looking over his shoulder and questioning everyone's motives towards him? Would he ever be able to trust anyone ever again?

"You still awake?"

Tony's gaze followed Gibbs as he entered his room, carrying a cup of coffee. His former boss had stepped out to make a few calls, one of them being to his attorney that he had dismissed soon after his sentencing; he couldn't continue paying her and he wasn't about to let Gibbs pick up his tab. At that point in his life, Tony had simply wanted everyone to forget about him, but the Marine had been unrelenting; Gibbs had tried to be his anchor, but he had cut the rope in hopes that the older man would move forward with his life.

"Yeah," Tony sighed, his voice betraying the pain and discomfort he was feeling. He was beginning to wonder if there was anywhere on his body that didn't hurt. "Can't sleep. Too much on…my mind."

"Want me to call the nurse?"

Tony shook his head, wincing against the pain that the simple action had caused; as tempting as it was to be drugged into oblivion once again, he had to remain in control. "No. I need to be able to think."

He watched Gibbs pull up a chair beside his bed and sit down. Tony noticed how tired his former mentor appeared; the past year had obviously been difficult for Gibbs as well. The injured man momentarily mused about what a selfish son of a bitch he was; it was evident in the lines of worry that had seemingly taken up permanent residence on his friend's face, that Tony's incarceration had been hard on the team leader.

"Don't blame you there," Gibbs said as he took a sip of his steaming brew.

"You'd think…I'd be tired…of thinking. I've done a…lot of that the past…year or so." He silently cursed his battered body; breathing and talking shouldn't be so difficult.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Tony was grateful that Gibbs wasn't pushing him to talk. Even if he had physically felt like talking, he still wouldn't be up to baring his soul to anyone, especially Gibbs; the team leader already knew more than Tony wanted him to and he was not going to willingly add to that knowledge. Talking about his time in prison was the last thing that he wanted to do.

Ever since he was a young child, he had learned to internalize his pain and over the years, he had become quite adept at hiding behind a smile or a quick witted response. The mask he now wore was one of intense privacy. One thing Tony had learned in prison was not to expose his weaknesses and pains to his enemies, but Gibbs wasn't his enemy; this was the one man in his life who had never stopped believing in him. So, why did he insist on keeping his friend at arm's length?

"I got a hold of Miss Dylan," Gibbs informed him, purposely shattering the awkward silence between them. "She's looking over everything and will come by in the morning; she was pretty excited to hear the news."

"Does she know…that she'll…be working for free?" He knew that he sounded belligerent, but Tony had a difficult time believing that people were trying to help him. Tony despised the fact that he was so wary of everyone; he wondered if he was doomed to be so suspicious of others the rest of his life.

"I didn't have to say a word; she insisted on it," the team leader replied. "She said she was looking forward to shoving this new evidence down the D.A.'s throat."

Tony nodded as he closed his eyes. He could hear Taylor saying that. She definitely didn't like to lose and now that she held the upper hand and was ready to make everyone else fold. "Okay," he whispered. He heard a noise and opened his eyes to see Gibbs laying a book on the nightstand; the agent was obviously planning to stay for a while. Reflexively, Tony said, "You don't…have to stay, Gibbs. I'll be fine."

"I know I don't. I just thought I'd hang around; figured you eventually might want a few answers."

He quietly laughed to himself. A few answers. Tony definitely needed answers, but he wasn't sure which of the hundreds of questions running through his mind that he should ask first. He still wasn't in the mood to hold a lengthy conversation, but maybe Gibbs would be able to tell him why Sterling set him up. Tony quietly decided that as long as the agent didn't want him to expand upon what he had endured during his time in prison that he would listen to what Gibbs had to say. "I guess…I do; I'm just not sure what…to ask."

"That's understandable; we're still putting together the pieces ourselves."

Tony knew all too well the pain staking process of making a rock solid case and he knew that Gibbs was making sure that everything was in order to secure his freedom. "I'm having a hard…time convincing myself that this isn't…a dream and that I'm going to…wake up and be back in…prison."

"You're not going back there."

Gibbs had already told him this once, but he still wasn't ready to accept it as fact. "Don't make promises, Gibbs; especially when you're not sure you can keep them." He instantly regretted the words as soon as they had escaped his lips; a sense of déjà vu crept over Tony as he recalled saying something similar to the agent during one of their few visits right after he had been sentenced. The team leader had continually promised him that he would get him out of prison; it had taken a while, but he had kept his word. He should never have doubted Gibbs.

"You're not going back there, DiNozzo," Gibbs forcibly repeated.

"Sorry," Tony mumbled. "I didn't…mean that the…way it sounded."

The younger man knew Gibbs had forgiven him before he could utter an apology. "It's all right," Gibbs assured him. "I guess you have every reason to doubt me, but I'm not going to let you down again."

"You never…have, Gibbs. I've let myself down; I…" Tony blew out a long breath. This wasn't the direction that he had envisioned their conversation taking; he wasn't ready to delve into his damaged psyche. "I just want to…know why. Why did Chip…set me up? I don't even…know him. Do I?"

"You busted the lab he worked at; cost him his job."

Tony's eyes narrowed as disbelief and confusion briefly overwhelmed him. "Are you freakin'…kiddin' me?"

"No. He worked at the same lab as George Stewart; seems that he collaborated with Stewart to frame you. Sterling covered his tracks pretty well, but Abby discovered some discrepancies and needless to say, we put two and two together and…"

"The rest…is history," Tony finished. The bitterness in his voice surprised even him. He clenched his jaw as he struggled to tamp down the anger that was threatening to erupt within him. "I uh…" Tony couldn't trust himself to speak; if he did, then Gibbs would discover his colorful vocabulary that he had learned in prison.

"We've got enough to convict him, Tony," Gibbs continued. "We're also going after Carl Banks and the Warden. They've got a lot to answer for."

He remembered Gibbs telling him about the Warden and Banks, but until now, he truly hadn't processed that bit of information. Tony cleared his throat. "Banks. He was one of…the guards."

"Yep. He's also Sterling's brother-in-law."

"That's convenient. Keeping…it in the family, huh?"

He didn't give Gibbs a chance to reply. "You sure the…Warden wasn't related to Chip? I mean, he literally brushed…everything under…the rug. Phillips looked…the other way every time I was…" Tony swallowed hard. "I knew he…was crooked. I actually tried…to lodge a complaint…against Banks and the others but…" A string of expletives flew from his mouth; he could no longer contain the rage that begged for release. His time in prison had changed him. He had been forced to adapt to a life he was never prepared for; Tony had been forced to undergo a physical and mental transformation, creating a hardened and bitter version of the man everyone once considered to be the class clown.

Noting Gibbs' expression, Tony knew that he probably should be embarrassed by his language, but he really didn't care. He had stopped caring a long time ago. He gripped the railing of his bed as he desperately fought the urge to hit something or somebody. Part of Tony despised the fact that violence had become part of his nature, but prison was survival of the fittest and Tony had managed to survive. "Sons of bitches," he mumbled to himself.

"Can't argue with you there," Gibbs said. The team leader poured Tony a cup of ice water and gave it to him. "I see you expanded your vocabulary in prison."

Releasing the railing, Tony took the cup and nodded his thanks as he attempted to ignore the tremors that seemed to periodically rack his body. The combination of pain coupled with the added stress of the past few hours were wreaking havoc on his mind and body. "I guess so," he replied, his jaw clenched tightly as he bit back the sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. It was going to take some getting used to the fact that he wasn't in prison; yes, he had definitely changed and not necessarily for the better.

"You're going to need to get control of that," Gibbs stated.

"Yeah, I know." What else could he say? Tony knew that Gibbs still expected him to act as his senior field agent; he was supposed to be an upstanding citizen and role model, but all that had changed. He was no longer Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo; he was a soon to be former convict who had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do with the rest of his life.

"Probably got several things…I'm going to have to get…control of," he mumbled to himself, almost forgetting that Gibbs was still sitting by his side.

"Take it a day at a time, Tony. That's all you can do."

"I'm tired, Gibbs. I'm so fu…" Tony blew out a breath. "I'm tired. I think I'm going…to try and…get some sleep." He really didn't want to sleep, but it was the only excuse he could think of at the moment so he wouldn't have to talk.

"Don't try and do this alone, Tony," Gibbs warned. "You've got a lot of people in your corner."

Tony shook his head. When was Gibbs going to learn to back off? "Sorry, Gibbs; I'm not…in the mood for…another pep talk. I just…want to sleep."

His weary gaze followed Gibbs as he stood up and leaned over him; the fact that he had a concussion had probably just saved him from a head slap. "I want you to listen to me, DiNozzo," he demanded. "I don't give pep talks; I just tell the truth. I know you've got a lot to deal with, but I'm going to be right beside you. You're not pushing me or any of your friends away this time. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a time that he would simply acknowledge Gibbs with a "Yes, Boss," and would do his best to accommodate the team leader. It had only taken a few beatings before he realized that backing down only added to his pain and he had learned to fight back. Of course, most of the time, the odds were stacked against him and he usually had the crap beaten out of him anyway, but at least he hadn't gone down willingly.

Tony struggled to sit up. He gasped as waves of agony shot through his body, quickly reminding him that he was far from healed. His insides still felt like they had been scrambled; his pain had quickly escalated from dull and constant to nearly unbearable. Strong hands guided him back down to the bed as he attempted to slow his breathing down. "That's it, Tony. Take it easy," Gibbs pleaded.

The younger man closed his eyes against the pain as he ignored the commotion that was now surrounding him. He could hear a couple of nurses talking to Gibbs while simultaneously trying to soothe him; it was obvious that they weren't very happy with his former boss. Within a couple of seconds, he felt a wave of relief wash over him as whatever medication that his nurse had given him began to take effect forcing him to give up any urge that he had to stay awake.

He hated being drugged; it meant that he didn't have any control and that was a feeling that he despised. A calloused hand brushed against his forehead; Gibbs was whispering something in his ear, but all his muddled brain allowed him tounderstand was the soft spoken apology coming from the older man. "Sorry, Tony. "

Tony barely nodded as darkness claimed him. Maybe when he woke up, things would make more sense to him; then again, nothing had made sense for the last year of his life.

Darn real life! That's the only reason I have for making you all wait so long. My humblest apologies and for those that are patiently waiting…thank you and I hope that the post is worth it. You're getting to see bit by bit the effects that prison had on Tony and how difficult it's going to be to reclaim his life. Hope you enjoyed the post.

I also hope that everyone had a blessed Thanksgiving and are gearing up for Christmas! Don't worry! I will still be writing! Thank you all again for your loyalty and support!