Tony DiNozzo trembled uncontrollably as he struggled against the effects of the drugs coursing through his body; his mind a mast of confusion as he tried to separate reality from disillusionment. He pleaded for the darkness to consume him so that his suffering would cease, but it stood at the precipice of his consciousness and mocked him.
His fingers clawed at the floor, searching for something to hold on to but his effort was futile as the desperate action only caused him more pain. He continued to shiver as he wrapped his arms around his waist, curling in upon himself in hopes that he could will away the agony that was consuming him. Tony’s emotions were as jumbled as his thoughts but somehow he knew that he had to keep them in check; he could not show any weakness in front of Miller.
“How are you feeling, Tony?”
Miller’s voice reverberated throughout the room creating an echo in his mind that pulsated to the drum and bugle corps playing in his head. He managed to place his hands over his ears but it did nothing to extinguish the voice that had banished him to his own personal hell.
“You should feel like your insides are on fire,” Miller continued. “Every nerve serving as an accelerant until your whole body is consumed with flames. Now you know how Sydney felt; her flesh being lapped up by a red and orange inferno as she cried out your name. But you weren’t there, were you?”
“Shut up!” Tony managed to gasp. “Just shut up!”
“Is that all you’ve got, Tony? If that’s all the fight you have in you, then it’s no wonder that you weren’t able to save your wife.”
He could feel the heat burning inside him as a myriad of images began to assault his memory. Chaotic scenes of the past left him feeling confused and scared as he imagined the sounds of his wife’s pain filled screams for help.
“She kept telling me you’d come and save her but you didn’t,” Miller persisted in his taunts. “As I took her life, she screamed your name. I wish you could have heard her.”
His fingers slowly intertwined with his hair and he began to pull, hoping that the self inflicted pain would keep him grounded, but the sights and the sounds of that night became too much for him to bear. Anger began raging within him, the opportunity to take revenge upon his enemy for the deaths of his family was fueling his desire to rid the world of Jason Miller once and for all.
“I see you’re angry,” the disembodied voice proclaimed. “That’s good.
Anger is such a powerful emotion and can bring you great satisfaction. I can only assume that I am the focal point of your wrath as I have been for many years. Why don’t you kill me? The power to do so is within your reach.”
Tony released the tufts of hair that he had been clinging on to and clumsily sat up; his eyes trying to adjust to the dim lighting in the room and to the constant dizziness that seemed intent on latching on to him. He tried to stand but his legs refused to hold his weight and he sank back down to his knees. A muffled scream pierced his senses but his mind couldn’t process the unintelligible words. Perhaps Miller was begging for his life; unfortunately his pleas fell on deaf ears.
The fact that Miller was still talking to him failed to register in his muddled brain. His ability to reason had been taken from him by the drugs now ravaging his system; all that mattered was that he killed this man that had destroyed his world all those years ago. It was time for retribution and Jason Miller would discover a new definition of pain as he experienced suffering beyond imagination.
“What’s the matter, Tony? I’m right here in front of you, giving you the chance to end your nightmare and you can’t even get off your knees.”
Miller continued to hurl insults at him but his words only merged with the sights and sounds that were overwhelming his frazzled mind. “How pathetic can you be? There’s a knife lying on my lap; grab it and end it!”
Tony attempted to focus on the blurred image in front of him; he could make out the image of a man as the sound of Miller’s maniacal laughter cut to the very core of his being. “You bastard!” he bellowed as he lunged forward, his body weight taking the chair to the floor. Tony heard the knife clatter on the concrete and began to frantically search for the misplaced weapon.
Miller’s laughter was now mixed with muted protests spurring him to act quickly. He was going to put an end to this living hell that he had been forced to endure and there was nothing to stop him from finally getting his revenge.
His hand encircled the hilt of the knife and he forced himself to stand, his legs trembling with the effort. Despite the tremors that wracked his body, Tony felt a surge of strength empowering him in his determination to kill Miller. As he raised the knife above his head, Tony was forced to close his eyes as a wave of nausea assaulted him. He could not let his body betray him; not when he was so close in getting justice for his family.
It was that brief moment of hesitancy that would become his undoing. Still holding the knife, he wiped his sweat soaked forehead with the other one as his fevered mind fought for control. His thoughts were fusing into mass chaos and he was barely hanging on to his reality when a familiar voice broke through the fog that was enveloping him.
“DiNozzo!” the gruff voice barked.
Tony staggered backwards forcing him to tighten his grip on the handle of the knife. “Gibbs?” He shook his head, dismissing the possibility that the team leader was nearby. Why was Gibbs here? It was obvious that Miller was attempting to deceive him, yet there was no mistaking that voice.
“Tony, put down the knife,” Gibbs gently ordered.
“Too nice…for Gibbs,” Tony whispered.
The request for him to put down the knife was repeated once again but Tony knew that he couldn’t allow himself to be fooled by Miller’s antics.
“Nice try, Miller,” he panted, his chest heaving with exertion. “I know…what you’re…up to.”
The laughter had stopped prompting Tony to deduce that Miller no longer found his situation humorous. “And here I always thought that you were stupid,” Miller seethed.
Tony’s eyes remained fixed to the man struggling to free himself as Miller continued his tirade. “What are you waiting for, Tony? Kill me! Kill me and get it over with! You know it’s what you want to do!”
He took a step forward towards his prey.
“Listen to me, DiNozzo; it’s me. It’s Gibbs.”
“Quit confusing him, old man,” Miller scowled. "Your usefulness has long passed.”
“You want me out of the picture? Come down and do your own dirty work,” Gibbs challenged.
The constant voices in his mind were starting to wear him down. Tony dropped the knife and fell to his knees; his hands over his ears as his own cries resonated in his head. The voices in his mind were at war with one another and he had no idea who he was supposed to listen to; Tony just wanted them to be quiet so he could think.
“Why should your blood be on my hands?” Miller countered. “Tony is used to having other people’s blood on his hands.”
“You son of bitch!” the former Marine vehemently shouted. “Leave him alone!”
The young man began to rock and mumble to himself. “Help me, Sydney; I don’t know…what to do. Please help me.”
“I’ll tell you what to do,” Miller insisted. “Pick up the knife and kill me. I’m right in front of you.”
“Don’t listen to him, Tony!” the former Marine urged. “Fight, DiNozzo!”
“I’m…tired…of fighting.” Tony sighed, resignation and desperation evident in his voice.
“I said fight DiNozzo!”
The only sound that could be heard in the room was the sound of Tony’s ragged breathing. Tony was grateful for the momentary silence and that the conflict inside his mind had temporarily called a cease fire. That last voice had sounded more like the team leader. After a few seconds, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “Gibbs?”
“Yeah?” the team leader responded likewise.
He licked his parched lips as he picked up the knife again. The weapon felt heavy in his hand but he managed to maintain his shaky grip. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he rested his throbbing head on them as he stared at the knife. “It’s got to end, Boss; it’s got…to end.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Jason Miller was enraged; rational thoughts had ceased to exist and impatience and irrationality had taken their place. He had been taking great pleasure in tormenting Tony and then Gibbs had managed to partially remove the tape over his mouth so that he could try and reason with the younger agent. He had underestimated the former Marine and his ability to turn a situation to his favor. Miller was beginning to regret involving Gibbs in his game; he had been a fool to think that he could use Gibbs against Tony without any repercussions.
He slammed his fist onto the table in frustration and then stood up, knocking his chair back in the process. DiNozzo had been close to the edge that would send him spiraling into a dark oblivion forever and Gibbs had managed to pull him back. Miller glared at the computer monitor as he watched Tony physically and emotionally struggle with what was real and what was a figment of his imagination.
Miller was determined that DiNozzo was not going to win this game. The idea was for Tony to kill Gibbs, believing it to be his enemy, and then when the effects of the drug wore off; DiNozzo would turn the knife on himself after he realized his error. Now, his perfect plan had been destroyed by the inexplicable and unexpected familial bond between Gibbs and DiNozzo.
Taking his arm, he cleared the table top; a smile crept across his lips as he watched the lap top shatter among the photographs of Sydney and Tony. “I guess I’m just going to have to turn the odds back in my favor. I won’t lose; I’ve waited too long for this and I’m not going to let anybody stand in my way.”
Striding across the room, he slung open the door and began his trek to where he was holding his prisoners. It was time to change the rules because in this game, there was only one winner and he was determined that he would be the one emerging as the champion.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Gibbs blew out a pent up breath as he studied the ailing young man sitting across from him. Tony’s body language indicated that he was feeling broken and defeated but the team leader knew that DiNozzo had not given up. It had been several minutes since Tony had uttered his last words and for a brief moment, he had considered the possibility that the senior field agent wanted his life to end, but he knew that suicide was the last thing on his mind. The end that Tony sought involved Jason Miller’s demise.
It had quickly become obvious that Miller had intended on Tony killing the team leader and in his grief, turning his knife on himself; a flawed plan that may have come to fruition had he not been able to interfere and force DiNozzo to realize what he was doing. The drugs in Tony’s system were powerful, but not as powerful as the unspoken connection that they shared.
He had found himself saying a silent prayer of gratitude when he had realized that Tony had lightly placed the duct tape over his mouth, allowing him to maneuver enough to tear it away so he could call to the distressed agent. Miller’s voice had been coming through a speaker and had almost convinced DiNozzo that he was sitting in front of him waiting on Tony to kill him; fortunately, he had been able to counter Jason Miller’s taunts and force DiNozzo to take a step back and at least attempt to discern between the two realities he was trying to reconcile.
Still lying on his side, Gibbs struggled against the cuffs that had his arms pinned behind the fallen chair; he needed to get free so that he could be in a better position to help Tony. He wasn’t sure what Miller had given DiNozzo, but it was obviously taking a toll on Tony’s reserves.
“Tony?”
His inquiry was met with silence.
“Tony?” he called out again in hopes of getting Tony’s attention.
Finally Tony lifted his head and met Gibbs’ worried gaze. The team leader could see the fear and the apprehension in DiNozzo’s eyes; Tony’s gaunt complexion bore evidence of the pain that he was being forced to endure both physically and mentally. “Tony, can you hear me?”
“Yeah,” the agent gasped.
“That’s good, DiNozzo. I want you to listen to me.”
Gibbs felt the knot in his stomach tighten when Tony shook his head in defiance. “No. I’m tired…of listening,” DiNozzo slurred.
“I know you are,” the former Marine conceded, “but right now, I need your help and then we’ll concentrate on taking care Miller.”
“I’m tired,” Tony repeated. “Can’t stop…shaking.”
“It’s the drugs that Miller gave you. I know that you’re hurting but I need you to help me. Cut the tape so I can get my feet free.”
He saw Tony’s grip on the handle tighten around the handle. “Why would I set…you free?”
Gibbs’ eyes narrowed as he realized that the drugs were obviously still causing Tony to hallucinate. He knew that he couldn’t simply lie on the floor and wait for the contents of the drug to wear off; time was of the essence if they were going to get out of here alive. Miller’s sudden silence disturbed the team leader and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the deranged man was planning on killing them both.
“Tony, I know you’re confused,” he began.
“Don’t…pat…patronize me…I know your tricks.”
“DiNozzo, who do you think I am?” Gibbs asked, uncertain if he was prepared for the answer.
The knife came hurdling towards him, coming to rest at his feet. “You’re not going…to win.”
“Tony!” His harsh tone was usually reserved for suspects but he wasn’t sure how else to get DiNozzo to focus. Tony was falling back into a state of confusion and he couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Yes, Boss!” Tony quickly answered as he attempted to get to his feet.
“Focus, DiNozzo!”
“Focusing, Boss.”
“Now, get the knife and cut the tape so I can at least sit up. We don’t have a lot of time,” he reminded the younger man.
He watched with baited breath as Tony stumbled towards him and picked up the knife; it had taken the senior agent several tries to force his fingers around the hilt but he had finally managed to get a secure grip on the weapon. DiNozzo fell to his knees and stared at the tape that continued to hold his feet together.
“Tony? You okay?”
“My vision’s kind of…messed up. Everything’s spinning. Sure you…want me to do this?”
“You can do it,” Gibbs assured him.
Tony steadied the knife with two hands and with slow and precise movements, he began to cut through the tape. Within a few seconds, Gibbs managed to break free of the tape and then ordered Tony to get the chair out of the way so he could sit up. It took a few seconds for DiNozzo to process his request and that concerned him; Tony’s reflexes were always sharp and he had always depended on his physical and mental instincts to keep them alive in the most difficult of situations.
Gibbs silently cursed that fact that his hands were still bound but he was slowly working to solve that problem; his wounded shoulder inhibited his movement but he had to get free. It was his opinion that bloody and scarred wrists would be a small price to pay if meant that he and Tony escaped with their lives and DiNozzo was able to get the justice that he sought for his family.
DiNozzo was still sitting in front of him holding the knife; his body one continuous tremor. “What’s…happening…to me?”
“It’s the drugs,” Gibbs explained. “Just take it easy for a few minutes, I’m almost out of these things.”
Tony didn’t even seem to notice that Gibbs was still handcuffed; the team leader wasn’t sure what was going through DiNozzo’s mind and his inability to read his senior field agent frightened him. “Take it easy, Tony.”
The outside door swung open causing Tony to startle, but DiNozzo didn’t turn around. Gibbs glanced up to see Miller entering the room, the depth of his fury evident in his purposeful strides.
“You broke the rules!” Miller bellowed. “You’re not supposed to break the rules!”
Gibbs began to work harder at freeing one of his hands; his instincts to protect Tony at all costs overwhelming the need of his own personal comfort and safety. As Miller grabbed Tony’s hair and jerked his head back, the Marine visibly bristled upon seeing the muzzle of a gun against DiNozzo’s temple.
“Leave him alone!” Gibbs demanded.
“You broke the rules and now you’re both going to die. When your team finds your bodies, there won’t be enough left to identify.”
“You underestimate my team just like you underestimated Tony. I warned you about that.”
“I didn’t underestimate any…”
Jason Miller never finished his sentence. Gibbs stared into eyes that now radiated a combination of sheer terror and utter disbelief. He released Tony and stumbled back to reveal a knife protruding from his chest.
DiNozzo had managed to summon the strength to thrust the weapon over his head and into the chest of the man who had nearly destroyed his life.
Tony’s movements were so swift and fluent that Gibbs barely caught a glimpse of DiNozzo as he managed to take Miller to the ground. Tony was now straddling him, his hand twisting the knife ever so slightly, seemingly taking pleasure in inflicting pain on his nemesis.
“It’s over!” Tony roared. “Do you…hear me? It’s over!”
Blood trickled from the corner of Miller’s mouth; an indication that he was fading fast. Gibbs felt something snap in his wrist as he gave one final tug in an effort to free one of his hands. Ignoring the pain emanating from his wrist and his shoulder, he stood up and made his way over to Tony.
“DiNozzo?” Gibbs put his good hand on Tony’s arm. “It’s over,” he quietly repeated. “He’s gone.”
Gibbs patiently waited for Tony to look at him; the eyes of a lost child were staring back at him and he wanted nothing more that to be able to tell the young man that everything was going to be all right. However, this time he wasn’t so sure. He could tell by the vacant expression on DiNozzo’s face that his closure wasn’t complete and it was going to be up to him to help Tony find the peace that was eluding him.
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