"You're leaving?" Tony figured Ziva would have to don a dress and swoon in order to look any more aghast. "In the middle of a case?"

"I've had this vacation scheduled for four years Ziva. It's a just a little important, you know?" Tony rooted around his desk for keys with little success.

"What could possibly be more important than a dead Lieutenant Commander?" She asked, eyes slitted with her hands planted firmly hipwise. Tony scowled, but before a ‘None of your damned business' could escape, Gibbs put his feet up on his desk and smirked. Gibbs smirked. It stopped Tony because, well, Gibbs didn't usually do that sort of thing but when he did it was at suspects or FBI agents. Also, feet on the desk? That was a little over the top even for Gibbs's particular brand of theatrics.

"Tony's turning thirty-five." Gibbs said lightly, sipping his coffee. "He's going home to cry and drown his sorrows."

Ziva scowled at Tony. Tony scowled at Gibbs. Gibbs chuckled. McGee just sat at his desk and looked a little confused.

"Oh. Happy birthday, Tony." McGee smiled. "I thought you were older."

Tony tried not to laugh too hard. "Thanks, McGee. That was very nice of you. Maybe next you could tell me my wrinkles don't look as pronounced as they used to."

Ziva laughed that little condescending chuckle which Tony had long ago decided that all women seem to master by drinking age and said, "Still Tony, just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you get to go rushing off to leave us alone with this mess."

"Could you whine a little louder. Ziva?" Tony snorted. "You're just jealous that I get to scram while you three deal with the wife. Without me charming her into unconsciousness she'll never shut up about those homemaking classes. Where are my keys?!"

"I hid them." Ziva said smugly. "You'll never find them."

"Ziva, I am going to miss my plane. It is a charted jet going overseas. I cannot miss it." Tony suppressed the urge to throttle her. "Give me my keys."

"No." Ziva crossed her arms and stared back. From his desk Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"You want me to tell her?" Gibbs asked, "Or are you just going to sit there and play coy?"

Tony threw his arms up in frustration. "Fine. Whatever will get me to my plane on time."

"Tony is about to get his inheritance."Gibbs smiled indulgently.

Ziva frowned. "I still don't see why you have to leave to do this."

Gibbs took another sip of his coffee. "It's several million dollars."

Ziva laughed and rolled her eyes and when no one laughed back she stilled. "You're serious."

"As a heart attack." Gibbs confirmed, sending a glance over to Tony that was obscure at best. "I'm also guessing from the attention your father has been showing you recently that his company is involved in some way."

Tony tried not to look too surprised and failed rather spectacularly. "Jesus Christ. There's no keeping secrets in this place. What, do you go through my trash? "

"Sometimes." Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. "You should really get one of those shredder thingies."

Tony scowled. "Can I have my keys back now, Ziva? Or maybe there's some more personal information you'd like to know first?"

Ziva snapped her mouth shut, reached into her shirt and tossed Tony his keys.

"They're still warm." Tony grinned helplessly. "I'll never wash these keys again."

"Wow." McGee's eyebrows made an admirable attempt to merge with his hairline. "Does this mean I don't have to buy breakfast any more?"

Tony laughed.

****

Gibbs followed Tony into the elevator. When the doors closed he reached over and pushed the emergency stop.

"Um." Tony said, confused. "I wasn't kidding about that plane..."

Gibbs kept his eyes down on his coffee for a moment before glancing up with carefully still eyes.

"You coming back, DiNozzo?" He asked quietly. Gibbs was nervous if Tony had to venture a guess from the way he had shoved his free hand into his coat pocket. Tony was nervous too, it was a question he'd been asking himself since his last birthday.

"That depends, Boss." Tony whispered back, stepping close. "Do you want me to come back?"

"Managing your finances is going to be a job of its own." Gibbs answered slowly.

"That wasn't the question," Tony said slowly, heart dropping into his shoes. "Do you want me to come back?"

Gibbs smiled then and Tony felt the resulting smack on the back of his head like a kiss. Tony smiled at him and restarted the elevator.

"Yeah," Tony laughed. "I'll be back."

"You'll be back and I'll be here." Gibbs took another sip of his coffee. "That works out well."

"Sure does." Tony said happily, taking a chance and touching the man's shoulder. "See you later, boss."

"Try not to have too much fun." Gibbs answered back.

Tony cut the urge to lean over and hug him, but just barely, and left the elevator. He spared a glance over his shoulder and Gibbs was still there watching with a curious half-smirk on his face. It was a look Tony decided that he liked, something that seemed small and just a little secret that had crept onto Gibbs's face without explicit permission. Tony ducked his head and walked forward, smiling a secret of his own.

At first glance Gibbs seemed to be a man of infinite obscurity but if you knew where to look you could read him plain as day. Tony knew where to look. After all, Tony had been looking for a long time now and frankly he didn't see himself stopping any time soon.

****

"I have nothing to say to you." Tony told his father shortly. "You might as well just leave."

Anthony DiNozzo Sr., adjusted his tie and smiled smoothly. "Tony, I just want to talk. There's no need to be like that. I'm still your father."

Tony put his glass down hard enough to shake the table and was immensely gratified to see his father flinch.

"And isn't that a curious thing?" Tony whispered roughly. "For twenty years I'm nothing but a disgrace, a failure, a waste of genetic material, and the minute you catch wind that Mom's will wasn't quite as straightforward as it seemed I'm suddenly the good son? I don't fucking think so."

A few heads turned but the majority of the restaurant continued their easy chatter. The good thing about the Swedes was that they managed to mind their own business, after all being discreet was their business. Tony's father nodded his head indulgently.

"Yes, Tony, but if you would just listen instead of-"


"No." Tony snapped. "You listen. You made it crystal clear that I was no son of yours when you found out about Bobby. Every year you send me power tools for the construction job I have never had. I'm a federal agent, not some blue-collar scraping together a living."

Tony tried desperately to keep his emotions intact. He failed.

"I had to beg to be allowed to attend my own grandmother's funeral." Tony choked out. "No, I don't think you have any more chances left."

"We'll have to talk sometime." DiNozzo said, his brown eyes cold. "You can't ignore me forever."

"Sure." Tony laughed bitterly. "I'll see you at the annual board meetings. Other than that? My people will talk to your people...it'll be exactly like old times."

Tony watched as his father shed his personable mask for his usual persona. Tony had seen criminals who kept that very same stare. They were usually the ones who confessed without remorse, hired men with appetites for blood.

"I suppose I'll just have to see you then." He said evenly. "Have a nice day."

Tony watched him go, his heart filled to the brim with the disappointment he had tried to kill off years before. A nice day? Not likely. Tony was smart enough to know that this wasn't the end, not by a long shot. His father was a ruthless man with an empty conscience. Tony could only sit alone, drink his booze, and hope that if the worst actually came to pass that he'd been careful enough to cover any eventualities. He had to believe that he had, because from the careless look on his father's face there was already some plan in motion. All Tony could do was wait.

****

Tony woke up with a headache the size of Germany and a dry, cottony taste in his mouth. The room was bare, cold concrete with one large, black window and a set of glaring floodlights.

"So," Tony laughed to the window. "That's the sound the first shoe makes. I'd always wondered...I mean, I ‘ve heard the second shoe plenty of times...but the first shoe? That's not usually me."

Tony frowned.

"Unless you count that time with the he-she."

Tony stood and winced, he didn't remember putting up a fight but his body sure did. He lifted his shirt and winced at the bruises blossoming against his ribs and took the time to check for broken bones at the hot spots. No breaks, but from the current level of pain Tony could hazard that there were more than a few cracks.

"This really sucks." He said quietly, taking in the warped mirror of his reflection. "This really, really sucks."

****

They chained him to the wall for the third ‘session'. The first session had been about proving how out-gunned Tony was. The second was to re-affirm what had been taught to him in the first. The two men hadn't needed chains to beat the holy living shit out of Tony those two times but apparently they were looking to spice things up.

"Oh, hey. Thanks guys." Tony laughed as they cuffed him to iron loops in the wall. "Usually I have to pay for this sort of thing."

One of the guards smiled, laughed back, and slapped him hard in the face. Tony spit bright blood onto the grey ground and when the door opened and Tony was too busy smirking to make any more bondage quips. Tony's father walked in with his lawyer and a satisfied smile that made him look like the proverbial cat.

"Very dramatic, Dad." Tony smirked. "I'd beg and plead but I'm having a main character moment. I think I'll work on my witty comebacks instead."

Tony panted through another slap and tried desperately not to black out.

"You should have had that talk with me." DiNozzo Sr. answered. "Now things have become unpleasant."

"You can say that again." Tony sighed and leaned back against the wall. "I'm going to get my ass reamed when I show up late for work."

That got a little smile from the lawyer but Tony's father remained resolutely above it all.

"Give me the information I need to access your account at the bank and this can end, Tony. That's all I want."

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes. How cliche. "I do that and you'll kill me."

Tony almost laughed at how surreal the situation had turned but the threat of another slap to his already pounding head dissuaded him. Tony's father smiled fondly.

"You're still my son." He said. "Give me what I want and you can spend the rest of your life sipping drinks in the exotic location of your choice."

Tony took him in, the cut of suit, the slant of his eyes, his straight and narrow hands and tongued the cut on his cheek.

"Liar." Tony whispered roughly.

"Look," DiNozzo stepped in close, towering over his son in the singular way that only fathers and Gibbs seemed to possess. "Your mother was very sick at the end and did some very uncharacteristic things. This would never have happened if she had been in her right mind."

It was probably true.

"People do a lot of strange things when they know they're dying." Tony said, he remembered her, wondered if she'd glimpsed this day when she signed her will. "Especially when they feel guilty for how they've lived. You'll understand the feeling some day, Dad."

It was Tony's father who backhanded him again. Tony felt the stones in his wedding band cut a swath through his cheek and hissed.

"Give me what I want or these last few days will seem like a walk through the park." He commanded, tone steely. "Give them to me, Anthony."

Tony gave into his rage long enough to spit and the satisfaction of seeing his father's face spattered with blood was worth every single moment of both beatings.

"Just in case your father to son translator is broken that was an emphatic refusal of your proposition." Tony hissed. "Sorry, Dad, but you can go to hell."

It felt good to say it but Tony heard the crack of his scull against the wall and knew that when he woke up every word was going to equal a moment of pain.

It was still worth it.

****
Tony screamed until he couldn't recognize anything but the pain, until his yells sounded like nothing more than background noise to his own ears. They always backed off before he could pass out, gave him an hour or two to recover, and then started in with a new variation of the same tactic; make Tony wish he was dead.

"Stop." Tony heard himself and couldn't feel ashamed. "Please stop...I'll do anything. Just stop."

"I haven't even gotten to the pinky finger yet." The man, lab coat man as Tony had come to identify him, said disappointedly as he put away his pliers. In the corner Tony's guard, Sam, smiled a little but didn't comment. Good man, Tony thought through the haze.

"Just," Tony's voice was barely a whisper. "I'll tell you the numbers... come closer so my father won't hear."

Greed. It was greed that got them every single time. Tony watched with hidden satisfaction as the man came close enough that Tony could smell the food on his breath. Tony let his head loll back and the man leaned closer still. It was almost too easy.

Tony brought his head forward in a move that Gibbs had taught him and broke his nose with a sickening crack. Through the screaming and his own aching head Tony heard Sam laugh as the good doctor got dragged out of the room.

"That gets funnier every time I see it." Sam said, standing over Tony with a primed taser as one of the on-site nurses undid his shackles and attended to any open wounds. Tony could only huff his own amusement as he tried not to flinch away from the woman's attentive hands.

"You know," Sam cocked his head, "When we took this job we were told you'd last a week or two at most. Little rich boy, pampered and spoiled... the highest the betting pool went was a month."

Tony laughed at that because it was just fucking funny. At the sound of it the nurse looked up worriedly but Sam just grinned back.

"You're one tough mother, man." Sam said. "I seen bigger guys go down faster at just the suggestion of the half the shit you've gone through."

The thought was oddly comforting.

"So, who won the betting pool?" Tony asked hoarsely as the woman bandaged the tips of his bloody fingers.

"Jose." Sam said grimly. "Couldn't exactly collect though."

Tony thought back, and remembered a vaguely Hispanic looking man.

"That the guy I pushed down the stairs?" Tony asked, warily. Sam nodded.

"No hard feelings though." He said. Tony grunted as the nurse popped his shoulder back into place. "Talked to him the other day at the hospital and he'll be good as new in a couple of months. Said he would have done the same thing."

"That's very understanding of him." Tony stood slowly at the nurse's request and put his hands behind his back so she could cuff him. They'd learned early on that Tony wouldn't attack females and used the information accordingly.

"Job's a job." Sam shrugged. "We do what we gotta, you know?"

Tony heard the metal snap, felt the cool iron against his wrist, and said, "Yeah. We certainly do."

****

Sam escorted Tony from yet another session with a new, and less gullible doctor and muttered, "They're bringin' in a new guy. A big money man."

Tony used to feel a terrified chill at words like that, but the constant state of pain had meshed his emotions into one long moment of resignation.

"Yeah?" Tony tongued the empty spot where a molar used to be and spit a little more blood on to the floor. It had become something of a hobby. "What does he do?"

"I heard he used to do his thing at Quantico." Sam said. "All I know for sure is that he seems to be a pretty tough nut to crack. Big guy. Well-trained. Very military."

"Oh." Tony knew he should be scared but he heard ‘Quantico' and the past flashed over him like a balm. "I have friends who work over there. Maybe he knows them."

Sam laughed and nodded at the man who opened the new cell door.

"You're a real piece of work, DiNozzo." Tony walked through the door without prompt and caught Sam smiling from the corner of his eye, but for a moment he saw Gibbs there, smirking that last, secret grin. Tony smiled back.

"Good luck." He said.

"Thanks, Boss." Tony smiled back, but then the specter faded and it was only Sam, looking a little bemused.

"Oh. Sorry, for a second I thought-" Tony didn't know who he was apologizing to, Sam or Gibbs but it was probably Gibbs. Sam waved it off.

"Not the first time you've done it." Sam said. "Some day you'll have to tell me who this guy is."

Tony didn't start crying but it was a close thing.

"No. I don't think so." Tony said as they uncuffed him. "That one's mine to keep."

"Whatever." Sam closed the door with slit eyes. "See you in a couple of weeks."

****

At first the sound of sirens was so quiet that Tony thought he might be imagining them, maybe filling all that empty space with something familiar, but by the third (Fourth? Fifth? Sixth?) Hour Tony was huddled in the furthest corner from the sound with his hands over his ears. It went on and on and on until Tony was crying into his knees and wishing desperately that he could drown himself in it.

The walls and floors were padded or Tony would have beaten himself into unconsciousness a long, long time ago.

Then, just as slowly as the noise started it began to fade, and with it the light, cradling Tony into a darkness that was both frightening and secure.

As soon as Tony started to slip into unconsciousness, the very moment he fell into that haven, the lights came back on and the noise began to blare full-force with its relentless scream. Tony shoved his face into a corner and screamed along.

****

Tony had heard once that if a person went without sleep for more than three days that they could be considered legally insane. Tony figured that he'd passed three days and then some when the music finally stopped for good.

Tony closed his eyes, but even though the room was finally, blessedly silent he could still hear the siren in his head. Tony could only lay there hopelessly as he prayed for sleep, just a moment's rest.

Apparently, God couldn't hear him over the noise.

****

Some days Tony couldn't remember why it was all happening to him. Other days account numbers and figures ran through his head like he'd never known anything else.

They didn't play the music anymore because when they did Tony mumbled numbers he didn't even know he had. They weren't the reason-numbers but they were close enough that Tony knew his father checked every single one in every pattern he could divine.

That didn't kept them from messing with the heat though, or the lights, and when Tony was extra hungry they pumped in smells like roast chicken and spaghetti until Tony could fairly feel it dripping down his throat.

Then one day Tony got a bright idea. A blazing idea.

They'd left him with pyjama pants. Tony laughed at the simplicity. So fucking simple that he hadn't even thought about it. Tony pulled the drawstring from the waist and wrapped it around his throat and tied it with a few efficient knots.

It was only a few breathless minutes until blessed darkness.

****

Tony woke to the sound of comforting chatter, to the smell of summer grass, and to the feeling that he'd come home after a long journey of little rest.

"Oh." A warm female voice said. "I'll have to call you back. He's just woken up."

Tony opened his eyes and smiled. His mind was as clear as glass. He remembered.

"Kate." Tony laughed through sudden tears. "God, it's good to see you."

Kate laughed and the sound was wonderful, perfect, and comforting in the most beautiful way. She flipped her glossy hair over her shoulder and closed a cell phone with an efficient snap.

"You look like shit, Tony." Kate smiled softly. "You really got into it this time, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Tony reached up and touched her face, her warm, vibrant skin. "But it's over now. I'm done."

Kate frowned then and touched him back, feather soft.

"I wish it were Tony, but they're giving you CPR. You haven't been here long enough to stay." She whispered.

"No." The horror of it started Tony crying for real, for keeps. He could feel it all slipping out of him again. His life. His memories. "Please let me stay. Please. I can't go back. I can't."

Tony touched her face with trembling hands as she started to cry too. "Please Kate. Let me stay with you. I've been good enough to stay, haven't I?"

"Yeah Tony, you have, you've been good." Kate said softly, brown eyes full. "It's just not your time. Not yet."

"Then why let me come at all?" Tony yelled helplessly, broken. "Why would you do that?"

Kate pulled him up then and held him close. Her hair smelled like sunflowers.

"I had to tell you...don't give up. Do what you have to do but don't give up, okay?" Tony felt her but he started to feel a pull that overwhelmed the touch. Kate looked him straight in the eyes.

"Help is coming, Tony." Kate said hurriedly. "Just buy yourself enough time for Gibbs to do his thing. Don't give up."

Tony started to answer back, to plea, but Kate looked over her shoulder, "Okay, okay," She called out. "Just another minute-"

Then she was gone and Tony was pushing at hands, so many hands around him, and then a sharp prick and an unconsciousness that didn't feel the least holy.

****

Tony awoke to Sam smiling a little too brightly and the acrid smell of cleaning fluid and vomit.

"Hey, DiNozzo. Long time no see."

Tony tried to answer back but nothing seemed to be working. When Tony touched his throat there was a whole new burst of pain that had him seeing stars.

"Yeah," Sam smirked. "That's what happens when you try to off yourself strangulation-wise. That was pretty stupid."

Tony coughed glass...or at least what felt like glass.

"You kept yellin' some chick's name." Sam continued, blithely. "Didn't know you had a girl. Is that why you're not giving it up? You want to stay around for her?"

Tony squinted at him and tried to swallow.

"Yeah. Females...can't live with them, you know?" Sam reached into his coat pocket and tossed Tony a little packet. Tony saw that it had a numbing agent and tried to communicate his gratefulness. Sam just flapped his hand. "No problem, dude. I feel bad that I can't do more."

Tony tried to open the packet but his hands shook too hard to get a good enough grip. Sam sighed and leaned over the table to open it and watched with cool eyes as Tony applied the salve. Hurt like hell but after a few moments the ache lessened and Tony could breathe without wanting to die.

"Th-Thanks." He whispered out.

"Naw. Was nothin', like I said. Wish I could do more." Sam stood. "Anyways. Got to go. Just coming in to check on you."

Tony watched him leave, his steady walk purposefully loose, his hands stuffed firmly in his pockets, and started to wonder what the hell was going on.

****

The new cell was still padded but the floor was some slick material and there was a table and two chairs. Tony wished desperately for the padded floor of his last room, sleeping on the concrete was a torture all on its own. Tony slept in his chair mostly, looking for hints of life in the one-way mirror and seeing nothing but his own bleak self staring back.

After a couple of days his throat had healed to a degree that Tony could manage a little water every day. When food came Tony still had to fairly liquidize it in his mouth before being able to choke it down. Tony suspected there was more than food in his sparing meals but it was eat or die. Eat or die, so when the drugs spun his mind back and away he comforted himself with the fact that he was still breathing.

Tony spent most of his time sleeping the previous hell away and attempting to think the situation through. He found it harder and harder to concentrate as the time passed between water and food. Things that made sense before started to warp into something Tony could barely understand, let alone believe. The past melted into the future and the future into the past. Tony found that it was so much simpler to forget it all and just let it slip away. Let it drown.

Sometimes Tony imagined that he saw Kate but then he blinked and the reflection vanished and morphed back into himself.

Tony talked to her anyways and sometimes he thought he could hear the whisper of her talking back..

****

Sam broke into the room with such force that Tony nearly fell out of his chair. He looked furious and for the first time Tony realized how very huge Sam was and how small he had become.

"Why would you do that?" Sam yelled, his voice echoing through the silence, making the soft of it fall to pieces.

"What?" Tony shook through his confusion and tried to stand but Sam pushed him back down into the chair with enough force to make the metal screech against concrete.

"I don't understand." Tony said desperately, afraid for the first time in what had to be months. "What did I do?"

Sam snarled and Tony felt his backhand like a bat to the head.

"You damn well what you did." Sam yelled. "You better fucking apologize. I do all these things for you...I'm good to you, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'm-," Tony put his arms up to ward off another blow, "I'm sorry Sam. I'm sorry. I won't...just tell me what I did and I won't do it again."

Sam dropped his hand and gave Tony a speculative look.

"You know what? You sit here and think it over. If you can figure out what you've done on your own I might just forgive you."

Sam turned to leave but halfway through the door he looked back.

"You do it again and it's over. I don't waste time on selfish little brats."

Sam slammed the door behind him and it hit Tony just as hard as the slap had, sending him reeling. Tony couldn't understand...what had he done?

Tony knew only one thing. He had to figure it out or Sam would hate him and that, that would just be too much.

Tony slid his chair back under the table and sat just as his father had taught him to so many years ago, back straight, arms under the table, and face forward as he thought it over.

Tony thought it over for a very long time.

****

When Tony woke Sam was there and he was smiling.

"I've been good." Tony said desperately. "I haven't done anything."

And he hadn't. Tony used the bucket, and ate his food by the door, but otherwise he was in the chair at the table unmoving and silent. Tony tried not to fall asleep but it was hard and he inevitably nodded off from time to time only to wake up pressed against the surface of the table. Sam nodded and smiled.

"Yeah man," Sam said, "You have. I should have known you didn't mean it. Thanks Tony, and I mean it. Apologize again and I'll believe it. I promise."

Tony felt a fresh wave of relief so engulfing it was almost sickening.

"I'm sorry." Tony told Sam gratefully. "I'm so sorry I did what I did. It won't happen again. I swear."

Sam smiled again, his hazel eyes twinkling "I know you won't Tony. You're a good boy, aren't you?"

Tony exhaled and smiled. "Yes. I am."

"What are you?" Sam asked playfully.

"I'm a good boy." Tony said clearly, because he was, he really was. "I'm a good boy."

****

Tony looked forward to Sam's visits. He'd bring power bars every once in a while and tell Tony the local news; Tony's father, the war, and little things like the weather. Tony couldn't help but be grateful for that little bit.

Tony got too used to it.

Tony waited for him, over and over. Tony fell asleep and Sam was never there, never smiling, never laughing when he woke up...Kate came by more and more often and Tony couldn't help but talk to her instead. He couldn't help but ask her what he did wrong. Tony asked her over and over and over and over but all Kate would do was sigh sadly and say, "Nothing, Tony. You've done nothing wrong."

Then one day (night, week, month), Tony lifted his head out of dreams and Sam was there, frowning thunderously from his side of the table.

"You did it again." Sam said angrily. "You told me you wouldn't but you did."

Tony's heart ate itself and died.

"I'm sorry." Tony whispered.

"Obviously not enough," Sam countered, "or you wouldn't keep making me angry. And I hear you Tony, you're talking to that bitch again. Talking about me behind my back. That's not what good boys do."

"Kate?" Tony couldn't be more surprised, "Kate's good too, Kate's always been-"

"Don't you fucking say her name to me." Sam yelled. "She's trying to drive a wedge between us. We're buddies, right?"

Tony nodded nervously.

"Well," Sam continued, standing and crossing his arms, "That's what girls do to buddies. They drive a wedge between brothers and talking to them is how it starts. You talk to a girl and you lose your friends."

Tony knew it was true he just didn't know why.

"I'm sorry." Tony said again, and he meant it. "I was lonely. I'm sorry."

Sam looked down and his eyes softened but only just barely.

"Sorry enough to do anything I say?" Sam asked, hands clenched against the table. "Sorry enough to give me anything I want?"

"Yes." Tony jumped on the opportunity. "Anything."

Sam smiled and walked to the other side of the table. "I'm so glad to hear that Tony, you have no idea. I missed you man."

Tony nodded. "I missed you too. Please...please don't leave me again."

"Naw, not unless you're bad again." Sam whispered, touching Tony's shoulder lightly.

Tony closed his eyes at it. The touch.

"You ready to be a good boy?" Sam asked softly, moving his hand down to Tony's elbow and then back again.

"Yes." Tony shivered from the touch. "I'm ready."

****

Kate still came to him but she only watched sadly. Tony wasn't about to break the rules. He liked Sam, liked that he stayed around, but that didn't mean that Tony liked what he had to do when he'd been bad. It took days to get the taste of shit out of his mouth after he'd cleaned Sam's boots. It was only a little thing in comparison to everything else but there was a threat of more behind Sam's eyes and that made Tony shiver.

****

Tony woke up and Sam was there, but he wasn't happy.

"I'm getting the feeling that you don't respect me any more, Tony." Sam's eyes were sad and Tony was sad with him.

"I respect you." Tony insisted, but Sam just looked away from him, unbelieving.

"Maybe...." Sam started, looking up hopefully, but just as soon as the look was there it was gone again.

"Maybe? Maybe what?"

"I liked it when you called me Boss." Sam said, quiet.

Tony felt an overwhelming surge of anger at the suggestion and had absolutely no idea why.

"Hey," Sam put his hands up, "It was just an idea. No need to get pissy."

"I respect you just fine." Tony snarled back, itching to do something...anything really. "No one is as good as me. No one."

"You're right." Sam said quickly. "I take it back. You're a good boy, Tony. I just get the feeling sometimes that you look at me and you see someone else, that's all."

Tony exhaled and let his anger drain.

"Don't be stupid." Tony patted his arm. "Who else is there?"

Sam smiled.

****
Kate still came to visit on the days that Tony lost himself in the buzz of the overhead light but she brought someone with her; a silver-haired man with a smile like a whisper and a voice just as soothing.

Tony tried not to listen to them, tried to be good, but sometimes the man would laugh and Kate would say his name. The man only turned to look at Tony once, but once was all it took.

Tony looked into his safe blue eyes and realized that there was something wrong. Something terribly wrong.

****

Tony started to collect his moments with Sam in the back of his brain and one day when Tony woke up he realized that Sam's smiles didn't fill up the holes Sam used as words. And when exactly had Tony ever really wanted to be good?

In the corner Kate giggled and Tony watched the back of the man as he knocked her upside the head with a smile.

"Are you looking at Kate again?" Sam asked with angry, clenched hands.

"No." Tony told him cooly. "I'm looking at you."

The lie pleased Sam and that pleased Tony. It felt good to lie but it felt even better to get away with it.

"Look," Sam smiled. "I need some help."

Always fucking smiling but never with his eyes, only with his teeth and his skin. Tony nodded and saw into the wound of him.

"Here's the thing. I need some money and I need it fast...and well, you said you'd do anything for me. Right, Tony?"

"I did say that." Tony confirmed. A smirk crept into Sam's eyes and Tony counted the seconds it took for the thing to disappear. It wasn't many.

"Well, Tony. I know you've got all that money...and I swear I'll pay you back. I just need the account numbers."

The silence was broken only by the squeak of the table and looking into Sam's mixed up, lying eyes Tony got a wonderful idea. Tony laughed and it felt like flying.

"I can do that." Tony laughed at the joke of him again. "If you get me a pen and some paper I can write it down. No problem."

Sam smiled back, but it was a little hesitant. "I already have paper, and...yup. Here's a pen."

Tony looked at them and grew a frown from a smile-seed. "That's white paper." Tony said softly, mournfully. "I only write on yellow. Those big pads."

Tony watched as Sam pulled his patience over him like a coat.

"I'll be right back." Sam said, standing. "You're a real pal, Tony. You're a real friend."

Tony smiled back and counted the teeth in his insincerity. "Yeah, I know."

****

When Sam came through the door Tony was waiting and he wasn't alone.

It was Tony who took him down with the loose table leg but it was Kate who pushed the door shut with a smile.

"All I know for sure is that he seems to be a pretty tough nut to crack.. Big guy. Well-trained. Very military." Tony said to Sam. "I heard he used to do his thing at Quantico."

Sam moaned while Tony tied Sam with strips from his shirt and tossed him up to the hooks he used to hang on. Tony pushed the table into his belly to keep the rest of Sam still. Tony waited until Sam woke and when he did Tony smiled. Sam's eyes rolled wildly.

"I hear you're a tough not to crack," Tony said. "So I guess we should probably get started, right?"

Tony had pulled the knife out of Sam's belt buckle. Tony could count rules in his brain. All marines had knives. All of them.

"By the way," Tony whispered to him. "No hard feelings."

***

"You did a good job, Tony." Kate told him, ghosting her hand on the back of his neck. Tony took Sam in, his bound wrists, the useless stubs of his hands, the eyes that would never re-learn a lie and sighed tiredly. Kate had helped a lot but it had still been difficult to hold Sam down. Tony ached.

"You think so?" Tony asked softly, exhausted. She smiled.

"I know so." Kate said. Tony laughed and smelled her sweet sunflower hair.

"Who was that man with you?" Tony asked tiredly. "I know him from somewhere."

Kate hummed. "He's an old friend."

"He dead like you?" Tony leaned into her touch and closed his eyes.

"For a little while." Kate whispered. "He came back to life though."

"Lazarus then," Tony chuckled. "I like him."

"Well, that's good, Tony." Kate pulled Tony closer as he slipped into sleep. "Because he likes you too."

****

Tony awoke to a significant amount of yelling in which no one seemed to say anything at all. Sam added his two cents in but it wasn't much considering that Tony'd borrowed most of his tongue. Tony had thought he could learn to tell better secrets with it but that idea hadn't worked out quite as well as he had hoped it would.

"Hey!" Tony yelled and for once the taser-men listened, jumping away with wide, shaking eyes.

"Keep it down." Tony said evenly. "I'm trying to sleep."

They looked from him, to the knife still in his hand, and back again and did what they were told.

Tony went back to rest.

****

The door opened while Tony was awake.

A woman walked through.

****

"Oh, Tony. Oh, Tony what have they done to you?" She was very pretty and Tony would stare, but he'd learned to be a good boy. Tony answered questions when asked.

So he told her.

Tony started from the toes and worked up to the head but it was a sad thing to see her face so he stopped. Tony was many things but sad wasn't one of them.

"Are you here about the money-numbers?" Tony asked. For some reason she seemed to be out of the place, a little like Kate except she was bleeding in little places. Little hidden places. She was dark and smelled of dark, wonderful things. She shook her head and reached out.

Tony barely managed to doge her hand.

"Stop that." The new of it was making him crazy. Just a little. "I'm a good boy."

She pulled away and Tony just barely managed not to fall out of the chair. Then...Then he remembered.

"You talk to a girl and you lose your friends." The pain of her washed through Tony. "I can't talk to you. You have to go."

She stayed, she said. "Tony, Tony...it's time to go home."

Tony touched the table, traced the deep scratches in the metal surface and wondered what exactly she could mean by that. The padded room? Some new place with new pains and new games?

"I think this room is just fine thank you." The fear started a slow boil into something strange but familiar, like those last moments with Sam's dirty eyes. Tony still had his knife.

"I think you should go now." Tony warned her. "This talking room is just fine with me."

She moved forward so Tony set Sam's knife on the table. Easy access.

"Are you hurt?" She asked at the sight of it as she looked about the cell. "Are you-"

Tony snorted, couldn't remember when he last saw another person mixed-up. "The blood isn't mine I'm just borrowing it for a little while."

"Oh." She had pretty brown eyes, but they were a true chocolate brown, not Sam's hazel. Tony decided that maybe he shouldn't worry so much about her. She's wasn't like Kate. Not strong like Kate. Maybe Sam had sent her as a present because he couldn't make it. Maybe to talk to for a little while. Tony liked that and smiled.

She smiled back.

"I like your eyes." Tony told the tilt of her head. "They're better than these ones."

Tony reached into his pocket and brought out the other one's. Sam's.

She left.

****

It was a long while before food came back through the door. A long while to go without water. Tony was good though. He stayed in his chair.

****

When Tony woke He was there and He was melting just a little. Just a little at the corner of His eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" Tony asked, a little worried.

The Man cleared his throat, blinked and said, "Yeah. I'm okay. I'm better now."

"Are you sure?" The Man didn't look okay, He was still dripping apart. Just a little. "Kate would kill me if you washed away just after you came back to life."

He bit his lip and His eyes opened wide. "Kate?"

Tony realized that maybe He didn't remember. Kate was like that sometimes, there and gone. There. Gone.

"Never mind." Tony said hurriedly, he wouldn't tease the man if He couldn't remember. Tony didn't want all that water-blue to fall out of His eyes. The Man smiled and wiped the wet away.

"Tony." He said softly. "You have some things that belonged to the last man who was here. I'd like to have them, please."

Tony remembered the girl. Sam's things had made her run away. Tony would keep Sam's things if he could...but He wanted them and Tony...

"I'm a good boy." Tony said hurriedly. The Man paused for a moment before smiling small.

"Yes. You are." He said. "Tony, I'm not going to take you to the other rooms. This is your room, this talking-room. I promise."

"You promise?" It seemed a silly thing. A promise. Tony laughed.

The Man sighed and held out a plastic bag. Tony laughed again as he took Sam's things, his borrowed things, and put them in.

They were getting a little smelly anyways.

The Man paled but he didn't run.

"The knife, please." He said. Tony rolled his eyes and gave it up.

"Thank you." He zipped the bag and tossed it on the floor. When He looked up again He seemed a little bigger, a little grown.

"Can we talk a little?" He asked. "I'd like to talk to you."

"That's what I'm here for." Tony confessed. "I like talking."

"Good." He smiled again. "That's good."

So they talked. Well, He talked mostly and Tony listened. Tony watched His blue eyes for hazel lies and tried to count His insincerity but there was none. Tony smiled at Him and He seemed happier. No, He was relieved. Tony knew. Tony didn't know how he knew but he did.

"You smell like wood chips." Tony told Him. The man. "It's on your fingers. All over."

He looked at His hands, looked up at Tony, and said, "Does that bother you?"

Tony laughed. How strange. "Nothing about you bothers me."

"That's good," He said, "I like that."

So Tony said he liked it too.

It wasn't a lie.

****

The next day a new man walked in. He walked in while Tony was awake and eating.

"Hello, Anthony." He said. "How are you today?"

The man sat in His chair. Tony pushed the food aside.

"You're rather small, aren't you. You're a bug. A tiny bug-man." Tony said this because it was true. Compared to Him the man was small. Very small.

The man smiled. Hazel, a hazel smile.

Tony stood, grabbed his slick black hair, and made his face meet the table until he wasn't hazel any more. The man rolled his eyes and gaped his mouth into a yell. Help. Help. Help. Tony snorted, let him go, and went back to his meal.

"You made my meal cold," Tony watched him stagger up. Tony kicked the chair away and said, "I think you should go now."

He went. Tony finished eating.

****

When Tony woke He was there.

"I'm disappointed, Tony." He said softly, as if the words would wake and bite Him. "I thought you said you were good."

He did look disappointed, for some reason that made Tony hurt more than Sam, or his Father, or the other Doctors ever had.

"What did I do?" Tony hurt from it he...he put his hands under the table and sat up straight.

"A man came in here yesterday and you attacked him." He said evenly, hands down and splayed on the table. "He only came in to help you."

Tony thought back. He thought back hard. Yesterday. Man. Yesterday. Man...and then it came to him.

"The bug?" Tony asked, amazed.

"Yes." He leaned back in His chair and frowned with hard eyes.

"I only squashed him a little." Tony explained. "Just a tiny bit. He wasn't even leaking when he left."

Something flashed through the muscles in his neck. Amusement.

"That may be so." He said. "But you still hurt my friend. That is unacceptable."

Something settled in Tony at that. Those words woke something silent, a tiny thing but strong, the thing that had kept him alive like a muscle. Like a heart.

"Fuck you." Tony spit, slamming the table with his hands. The Man didn't jump, he tensed.

"Unacceptable is unacceptable." Tony stood and yelled, even though it was breaking him a little to do it. "I hate you."

"No you don't." He whispered.

"Yes I do." Tony leaned over the table. "Leave. I want you to leave."

Leaning had been a bad idea, Tony decided. Tony could smell Him up close, could smell the sweat and the wood, could smell the cracking hurt. Tony almost hissed at the sudden burn of His eyes.

Tony didn't know He'd moved until His hand was in Tony's hair and pulling down, until Tony felt the cool press of the table against his face in a slow caress. Tony breathed and left short stains on the table's surface. He leaned close. So close.

Tony could see the veins in his arms. The life of him.

"I don't want you to hurt my friends again." He said.

"Okay." Tony agreed in a rush. "I won't hurt your friends."

Something in Tony's voice must have given him away because He started to move away but Tony still caught Him. Caught His arm. Caught His arm in Tony's teeth.

The Man grunted but didn't move. He didn't take His hand out of Tony's hair. Tony pressed a smile into him, into the beat of His life, and sighed.

"Let go of me." He commanded. "Now."

That was when more bug-men burst into the room. Tony rolled his eyes and did what he was told but seeing the crimson drip and feeling it slide down his throat Tony knew that he had part of the Man. Tony was running through Him now. It was nearly enough.

Tony was only getting started.

"You taste good." Tony told Him, watched as he stopped the leaking from his arm with strong fingers, strong hands.

He sighed, His blue eyes sharp with pain. "That's good to know."

They shared something then, something that made Tony want to be gentle. Something that made Tony want to be still just to watch Him. The Man broke the spell by looking away and Tony wanted to touch Him for it, to feel the hesitation in the line of His jaw.

"Lets go." He said to the bug-men, but Tony listened too.

"Yes." Laughed Tony, "Lets."