Yay! I got another chapter up! I know you're tired of me apologizing for the constant delays, but I truly am sorry. So much going on, so little time to write! I do hope you can overlook my inconsistency in posting and enjoy the chapter. Lots of angst in this one! Now, I'm off to work on Undertow (which actually doesn't lack too much to being done). My mind is constantly working on plot bunnies that keep attacking me, but I may need a couple of sounding boards (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, Bob's your uncle!) to help me figure out where to take them or if they are worth exploring. If interested, pm me! Have a great weekend!

(P.S. To those who do not have private messaging, thank you for reading! I try to answer each reader individually, but some I obviously can't; so I wanted to make sure and say thank you for taking time to read and review!)

Part 15

Despite the pain that constantly plagued him, Tony welcomed the warmth of the sun as it embraced his battered body; the heat worked its way his aching muscles as he quietly contemplated his first true moment of freedom. There weren't any walls or barb wire surrounding him, no guards with guns seemingly trained on his every move, and most importantly, there wasn't anyone threatening to kill him at the moment. Tony had learned this past year that even when there wasn't any apparent danger, he had to remain guarded; he knew that he would definitely spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder because he believed that he would never be safe.

"Can I get you anything?"

The voice of Leroy Jethro Gibbs broke through the haze that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in his mind; it was at that moment that he had decided to firmly refuse any more medication that would cloud his judgment and confuse his thoughts. He couldn't afford to be distracted or taken by surprise.

It took a few seconds for Tony to process what Gibbs was asking him. He felt like releasing a string of profanity at his inability to think, but refrained from doing so; the action would simply expend what little energy that he had and he knew that he needed every ounce of strength he could muster in order to prolong his time outside the four walls of his hospital room.

"Uh, no," he finally managed to reply. "I'm fine."

He inwardly winced at his proclamation; Gibbs had never believed him when he said he was fine and with good reason. Tony had always kept his emotions bottled inside him and his usual flippant answer had earned him many head slaps over the years; now, the head slap had been replaced by a stern gaze that dripped with a mixture of concern and disbelief. The team leader knew that he wasn't fine but thankfully, Gibbs had elected not to push the issue.

"Let me know when you're ready to go back in," Gibbs quietly instructed.

Tony nodded. He didn't care if he ever went back in; it felt so good being outside that he wanted to stay forever. Of course, his doctor wasn't going to let him stay outside too much longer, but if Gibbs was telling him the truth, then one day, he would be able to do anything he wanted, including sitting outside

He supposed that he should show a little more gratitude to Gibbs for what he had done for him; it had been a while since he had been thankful for anything and he had gotten out of the habit of counting his so called blessings. Staring straight ahead, the ailing man cleared his throat. "Thanks for standing up for me."

"It's the least I can do."

Tony visibly bristled; maybe his gratitude was misplaced. "What do you mean by that?"

Gibbs shrugged. "I didn't do enough to…"

He visibly tensed, knowing all too well the path that Gibbs was heading with this conversation. Tony had already had this discussion with Abby and he certainly didn't want to have it with Gibbs once again. "Don't even go there," he warned. "Enough with the guilt. I told you once that I don't need to deal with it and I don't want to deal with it. If you're gonna start, you can just go find Abby and have your own little guiltfest."

Before last year, there had been very few times that he had dared to put Gibbs in his place; a combination of fear and respect for the team leader had caused him to hold his tongue on more than one occasion. However, those times that he had been forced to stand his ground against his supervisor had earned him a great deal of admiration from the team leader and had added another layer to their unusual bond. That bond had been dormant on his part for the last year and he wasn't sure how Gibbs was going to react to his gruff bluntness; fortunately, the Marine seemed to take it in stride.

"It's good to see that some things haven't changed," Gibbs observed, a tiny smirk escaping his lips. "You still know how to get to the heart of the matter."

Tony closed his eyes for a few seconds and slowly exhaled. He met Gibbs' crystal orbs and studied his slightly bemused expression. "Yeah, well…there's no use beating around the bush. That's another thing that can get you killed; people have to know where you stand."

"I agree and I'm sorry; you're right, you don't need to deal with my crap."

"Apologizing, Gibbs?"

Gibbs rarely violated his own rules, but it seemed like he was now willing to do so for him. "Nothing wrong with apologizing when it's between friends," the older man pointed out.

Tony shook his head. "I haven't given you a very good reason to be my friend; not so sure that I deserve to have any friends. I mean, there has to be something wrong with me." He had spent the past year trying to come up with a reason why people would think he was capable of murder and the only logical conclusion that he could come up with was the fact that his father had been right and he would end up in the gutter.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Tony," Gibbs assured him.

The last thing he wanted to hear was that there wasn't anything wrong with him. There had to be some kind of characteristic or fault that marked him; Tony didn't want to consider any other possibility. He clenched his jaw, his clipped words betraying the anger that was bubbling beneath the surface. "Don't say that. Just…don't…go there. I have to believe…"

Gibbs knelt down in front of him. Tony flinched as the team leader gently cupped his face with a calloused hand. "No, you don't. You were set up because you did your job. You were set up because of Charles Sterling's screwed up mind. If I have to let go of my guilt, you have to let go of the idea that all this mess was your fault."

Tony pulled away from Gibbs; the close proximity of his former boss was still unnerving. The Marine's reasoning made sense but it was going to take a while for him to be convinced of the fact that he was framed and that he hadn't deserved prison. "It's not that easy."

"Then it looks like we've both got our work cut out for us."

"You're a stubborn bastard," Tony declared.

"I've been told that once or twice."

The dark haired man pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few moments to tamp down the rage that had been pushing against his walls of self-control; Gibbs didn't warrant his wrath and Tony knew that he had to make sure that he saved it for someone who did deserve his anger. He briefly found himself wondering if he would be allowed to confront Chip; Tony certainly hoped that he would have the opportunity to deliver a little justice of his own.

Pushing these thoughts out of his mind, he raked his hand through his hair, breathing a sigh of relief when Gibbs moved to his side. He was going to have to get used to having his personal space invaded, but like everything else, it would take time; but for now, he was going to have to resist his ingrained instinct for fight or flight.

"You getting tired?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah," he admitted. "But I'm not ready to go back in."

"You can come out again later. Remember, you're not in…"

Tony tiredly grinned at the other man's reluctance to mention his time in prison. "You can say it, Gibbs. Prison. I think that's the word you're looking for."

"Prison," Gibbs repeated. "Why don't you go back and rest for a little and maybe we can come out later. Maybe we can bring your supper out here and eat."

"Guess that'll be all right," Tony conceded.

He closed his eyes, mainly to avoid the stares that he knew would be cast his way as Gibbs pushed him back to his room. Memories of being escorted down the corridors of the prison began to assault him. The vulgar promises of revenge from people he didn't know echoed in his mind. Tony had been all too aware of the fact that the other inmates had been constantly waiting for the chance to act up on their threats and the guards had always been willing to provide them with those opportunities. He tucked those images back into the dark corners of his mind where they belonged.

It was nearly impossible to keep all his memories at bay, but for the sake of his sanity, he had to try. Tony knew that if those memories escaped, the fear that his thoughts evoked would paralyze him mentally and emotionally and he couldn't afford to lose control over that part of his life. He had to remain unfeeling and uncaring about anything or anybody; trust was too fragile to place in the hands of others.

Tony felt Gibbs make the turn into his room and he opened his eyes and immediately took in his surroundings, scanning for any sign of trouble. Even though he was no longer in prison, he still couldn't afford to let his guard down. Tony doubted that he would ever allow himself to feel totally at ease anywhere and if that were the case, he had no idea how he was going to function in society.

He remained silent as Gibbs elected to help him back to his bed without calling the nurses. Tony struggled to tamp down his aversion to being touched as the team leader allowed him to set the pace; within a few minutes, he was settled back in his bed and the silver haired man was now making sure his IV was still intact. Even though Gibbs wasn't one to play nursemaid, Tony knew that the man was doing it out of a sense of loyalty to him and deep down, he appreciated his former mentor's devotion, but he didn't deserve it.

"Can I get you anything?" Gibbs asked him.

"No."

"Need some space?"

Tony nodded. "Yeah."

"Not a problem. I'll be back later," the Marine promised. "After you and I both have gotten some well-deserved rest."

He was relieved to know that Gibbs was still a man of his word; not that he had ever doubted that fact, but his ability to trust in people was non-existent and he was wary of those who used to be closest to him. Tony closed his eyes as he heard the team leader's footsteps quietly echo across the floor as he made his way to the door. He heard Gibbs pause for a moment before he left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. He couldn't find the words to describe what he was feeling at the moment. He was alone and he didn't have to live in fear, wondering how long it would be before any unwanted company descended upon him. Solitary confinement had been highly over rated because he had never been truly alone; there was always someone wanting something from him and he always had to defend himself. He considered the possibility of getting some sleep without having to be hyper vigilant; however, old habits were hard to break and if he did manage to sleep, he would do so with one eye open.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gibbs had lost track of the time it had taken him to get home from the hospital; in fact, he barely remembered driving home. His mind was still on Tony, wondering if he was actually trying to get some rest. The Marine knew that the younger man more than likely hadn't been the recipient of a good night's sleep ever since the day he had been accused of murder. He doubted that Tony was sleeping, but at least his former agent would have the opportunity to drop the mask that he was hiding behind; however, he doubted that DiNozzo would allow himself to relax that much. Gibbs hoped that maybe after a few hours of solitude that Tony would feel like could open up a little.

Who was he kidding? It was going to take more than a few hours of sleep for Tony to share anything that had happened to him during the past year. Although Gibbs knew a great deal of what had occurred, he felt like at some point in time, Tony was going to need to talk and he would be ready to listen. Of course, DiNozzo had never been one to willingly discuss anything of a personal nature; it had taken nearly a year after Tony had come to work for Gibbs before he had felt comfortable enough to give the silver hair agent a glimpse into his past. Now, circumstances had shattered the familial bond that they had shared and the older man wasn't sure that it could be repaired; Tony didn't trust him and it was going to take a long time to rebuild what they had.

As he turned into his driveway, he saw Ducky's Morgan parked in front of his house. Gibbs parked his own car and turned off his engine; the exhaustion he was feeling seemed to permeate every fiber of his being. He truly wasn't in the mood to entertain guests, but knowing his old friend was waiting for him in the kitchen with that disgusting tea that the ME liked prompted him to get out of the car and slowly make his way up the stairs of his front porch.

Opening his door, he was greeted by Ducky's cultured voice as the older man handed him a cup of tea. "I think I need something a little more substantial that tea, Duck," he tiredly replied.

The ME pulled out a flask which Gibbs knew contained scotch and put a few drops in the tea. "Not exactly what I had in mind," the team leader pointed out as he set his cup on the table. "Thanks for the thought though."

"You're welcome, Jethro," Ducky said. "I called the hospital to check on Anthony and the nurse told me that you had just left; I thought that since that past few days have been so…strenuous, you might need a listening ear."

Gibbs shook his head. "I'm good, Duck. Just tired."

"I'm not sure I believe you. The past year has been difficult on everyone, but no one more than you; now that Anthony is going to be exonerated, I'm sure that the emotional fallout from everything is finally…"

The Marine glared at Ducky, silently warning the physician not to step over the line. He couldn't deny that the last year had been one of the hardest in his life, but he was not about to delve into a conversation about his emotional state; he was too tired and the possibility definitely existed that he would end up saying something that he regretted. Gibbs needed time. Time to process everything and time to unwind; perhaps then he would be more than willing to lean on his friend.

"Not now, Ducky. It's not a good time."

"All right," the ME quickly conceded. "We'll talk about something else."

"How about we talk about you leaving and me getting some sleep?"

"As soon as you answer one question for me," Ducky reasoned.

"What?" he asked with growing impatience.

"What can I do to help Tony?"

Gibbs was genuinely touched by Ducky's concern. Throughout the past few days, the ME had willingly kept his distance and the team leader had appreciated the restraint that he had shown. Ducky and Tony had always enjoyed a special friendship akin to a grandfather and grandson; he knew it had been difficult for the elderly man to stay away, but he had managed to respect Tony's desire for privacy.

"You're doing it, Duck. You're giving him space."

"I want to do more."

Sitting down at his kitchen table, he sighed in resignation. Ducky wasn't the only one who wanted to do more. The feeling of helplessness while Tony was in prison had nearly consumed him and that feeling had yet to completely dissipate. "I know, but he's just not ready. He can barely tolerate me being in the same room with him; everything has to be on his terms."

"Yes, I gathered that from Abigail. She was quite upset after seeing Anthony and after you, as she put it, reamed her a new one."

"She deserved it," Gibbs coolly stated. "I told her to stay away and she didn't. Tony couldn't handle it and he gave her a few choice words of his own."

"She is distraught over everything that happened, Jethro. She thought she was helping."

Ducky always the peacemaker of their unusual family, but Gibbs wasn't ready to mend any fences just yet. "Don't make excuses for her, Duck. The only thing that she did was upset DiNozzo; he isn't ready to be bombarded by a lot of people, especially by his friends. He…doesn't even know who his friends are. I know everyone is anxious to see him, but he's not ready to see them."

"Who makes the decision as to when he is ready?" the ME asked.

Gibbs glared at his friend. He certainly hoped Ducky wasn't implying that Gibbs was calling the shots. "He does," the Marine growled, his tone clearly indicating that he was done with the conversation. "If that's all, I'm going to get some sleep. I'll tell Tony you were asking about him."

"Jethro, I didn't mean to…"

Ducky's attempt at an apology was cut short by the ringing of his cell phone. Glancing at the caller ID, he saw that the hospital was calling him. His gut began to twist into yet another knot as he answered the phone; the news on the other end couldn't be good. "Gibbs," he barked. He listened for a moment before replying with a terse, "I'll be right there."

He grabbed his keys and headed towards the front door as Ducky called out to him, "Is something wrong, Jethro? Is it Anthony?"

"Yeah," he replied, hoping Ducky would not press him for details, mainly because he didn't know the specifics of what had happened. The Marine didn't have a clear answer and probably wouldn't have one for a while; hopefully, when he got to the hospital, things would become clearer. He just hoped that Tony allowed him to help him over this hurdle.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

***flashback***

They were coming for him again. He could hear the echo of their footsteps as they walked down the corridor. He had just been released from the infirmary and placed back in his cell in solitary. Why couldn't they just leave him the hell alone? Isn't that what solitary meant? Tony kept his eyes closed as he heard his cell being unlocked and two distinct sets of foot prints entering his cell. Perhaps since there were only two of them, he would have a fighting chance this time.

He was so tired of fighting, but it was the only way to survive. Tony had long given up on the idea that he had to survive because Gibbs was going to be able to prove his innocence; he was now surviving because it wasn't in his nature to simply give up. DiNozzos never give up; at least that was what he kept trying to tell himself. It would be so easy just to let them kill him, but he also knew that the guards and the inmates would not let him off that easy; they knew he used to be a cop and they wanted him to suffer and took great pleasure in making his life a living nightmare.

His eyes snapped opened to discover two of the guards standing over him. He easily recognized Carl Banks and Steven Marcus; they were the ringleaders of the 'Make Tony's Life Miserable Club' and didn't care that he had spent the better part of the week in the infirmary. Before they had a chance to restrain him, Tony managed to use his legs to bring the two men to their knees, giving him time to get in a defensive position. The quick movement had aggravated his bruised ribs and the grade three concussion he had received earlier in the week, but at least he wasn't an easy mark now.

"What do you think you're doing, DiNozzo?" Banks demanded to know.

"Just staying ahead of the game."

"We just came to make sure that you're all right after your last accident."

He had always known that Banks was a liar and he was lying now; the only thing that Banks and his friend, Officer Marcus were worried about was making his life a living hell. Despite Tony's continued reports to the Warden, nothing was done about the beatings that he had received, except to shift the blame to him and place him in solitary, which only provided the guards with easier access and no witnesses to their actions.

"As you can see, I'm fine. You can leave," Tony seethed.

"In case you've forgotten, you're a prisoner. You don't get to tell us what to do," Marcus pointed out.

Tony faltered as the room began to sway, providing the two guards with the chance they needed to take him down. He cried out in agony as he landed on the floor, the pain shooting through his ribs was almost unbearable. The two guards taunted him with slurs and innuendos, whispering in his ear what they were going to do to him. Rage churned within him as those words echoed in his mind. Through the haze of pain that was threatening to consume him, his arm shot up and grabbed Marcus by the throat; squeezing with all his might, his only thought was of killing this man who had enjoyed tormenting him.

His energy was waning, but he had yet to let go of his prey. He could hear Banks screaming at him as he tried to pry Tony's fingers from the other guard's neck. Tony groaned as he felt a steel toe boot connect with his side. The shouts of anger above him confirmed the fact that there were others in his cell; with the arrival of the other guards, he would quickly be overpowered. His body convulsed as he succumbed to the familiar shock of the taser; he had no choice but to let go of the guard as he hovered on the edge of darkness…

***end flashback***

"Mr. DiNozzo! Mr. DiNozzo!" Disembodied voices were shouting at him as hands were simultaneously holding him down.

"You need to let go of Nurse Akers!" He felt as if someone were trying to break his fingers. Tony's eyes snapped open and met the terrified gaze of the nurse. He released her immediately as his arm was forced to his side and placed in a restraint. He felt the sharp prick of a needle and almost immediately felt as if he were floating.

His attempts at struggling were useless as the blackness of the void enveloped him. The confusion surrounding Tony was overwhelming and he felt as if what little control he had possessed was quickly slipping away. As he gave up the battle for consciousness, Tony hoped that whenever he woke up that Gibbs would be there to tell him what was going on.