Title: A Test in Partnership
Rating: M
Summary: When a routine suspect pick-up turns into a hostage situation, Tony and Ziva find their lives and their partnership in shambles. Will they be able to survive? —Tiva — Warning: mature themes—

Beginning Notes: So this is set somewhere around mid-season nine. I'm going to pretend that Tony's whole black-op mission is already wrapped up *SPOILER ALERT* seeing how they said that'll mostly be wrapped up in the first episode *END SPOILER ALERT*so we're just going to pretend that's over and things have been business as usual.

WARNING:The rating is M for a reason. Mature themes, sexual assault, etc., etc. It's mostly just the first chapter, but that warrants the rating anyways. So if you're uncomfortable with that kind of stuff or you're underage, hit the back button on your browser now.

A Test in Partnership — Chapter One

"Hey, hey, hey Ziva. Ziva. Ziva." Ziva looked away from her computer screen, her eyes taking a moment too long to focus on Tony, who was hunched over his desk, his head resting on the smooth surface. They had been working this case for nearly four days now. It had gone from being the simple murder of a petty officer in his living room to some mess involving conspiracies and blackmail and three other dead marines and navy officers and a bunch of other crap that Tony was too tired to keep track of at this moment. "Ziva if I ask you to pour this scorching hot coffee down my throat, will you?"

"Possibly," Ziva replied, taking a long sip of her own coffee. "I do not think Gibbs would be too happy if you were to choke, though. I do not feel like having him angry at me."

"Yeah…I'll just worry about the choking part when it comes. So come on, get to it — let's get that crap into my mouth." McGee, of course, chose that moment to wake up. He tilted his head at Tony, narrowing his tired eyes in confusion and slight horror. "That did not come out the way it was supposed to. Um…rewind. Ziva's going to pour scorching hot coffee down my throat."

"That sounds like it would hurt," McGee said slowly, wincing at the thought of someone forcing coffee down his throat.

"So did the other thing Tony said," Ziva said with a slight smirk. She wasn't about to admit that she was as exhausted as her male co-workers. "Come on Tony, you know if Gibbs comes in here and sees you lounging around he is going to slap you silly."

"Maybe it'll wake me up," Tony shot back, yawning widely.

Gibbs, of course, chose that exact moment to walk into the bullpen, and extra-large coffee in hand. He slapped Tony upside the head as he walked past the senior agent's desk. "You three better have something for me."

"Does a concussion and exhaustion help?" Tony asked as he straightened up, running a hand through his on-end hair.

"Are those things going to help us figure out who killed Petty Officer Rallis?" No answer. Gibbs looked around at his tired team. He understood. He was tired too. But the director had been breathing down his neck to get this case wrapped up when he'd found out that the case was connected to a series of other open cases. So there'd be no rest for the weary until the murderer was found.

"Hey boss, I think I have something," McGee said about twenty minutes later. All eyes turned to the junior agent, hope evident in everyone's expressions. "I was going through the phone records of the other three murdered officers, and I found a similar phone number on each record. The number is registered to Russell Shay."

"AKA the last guy to see Petty Officer Rallis alive," Tony chimed in. Gibbs opened his mouth to say something, but Tony beat him to the chase. "Take Ziva and go talk to this fool. Again. Got it boss."

Tony and Ziva hurried out of the bullpen, too tired to even argue about who was going to drive. Tony had the keys, so Ziva let him have the responsibility. "Stop for breakfast on the way?" Tony asked as the elevator closed. Russell Shay lived two hours out of DC. This drive was going to suck.

"Fine by me," Ziva replied, sounding mostly disinterested. She probably would have agreed to sex if Tony had been brave enough ask. People did strange things when exhausted, after all.

They went through the donut shop drive-through, Tony getting an egg sandwich that was going to be hell to try and eat while he was driving, Ziva getting a regular bagel with cream cheese, and both investing a large coffee. "So Zee-vah," Tony said as they pulled onto the highway. "How's life?"

"Little talk, Tony? Really? I suppose you are going to ask me about the weather next."

"The expression is small talk Ziva. Small talk." Ziva rolled her eyes, muttering something about stupid American idioms. "And no, it isn't small talk, I'm genuinely curious. I have no idea what's going on in your life right now, I'm completely out of the loop."

"And I am not exactly sure why it matters to you what is going on in my life."

It didn't, Tony supposed. She was right; he was trying to make small talk. He'd have done anything to keep himself awake. "Aw come on Zee-vah. Give me something to work with here. What's going on with you and CI-Ray?"

He didn't quite get the response he'd been expecting. Ziva's expression darkened significantly, and she looked away, glowering out the window. "We are done," she said simply. Tony tilted his head a bit, curious. "Or I guess a better way of putting it is that I am done with him. Not that he is aware of it yet, considering I have not heard from him since he left."

"Is that why you're done with him?"

"Do you really think I am that shallow?" She had a point there. "An old…acquaintance—" Translation: sex buddy, "from Mossad was kind enough to get in touch with me a few weeks after Ray left and inform me that Ray is in Israel. Working with Mossad. With my father." Oh boy. "I am not completely sure what he is doing, but I have no interest in being involved with someone who is working closely with my father." She was glowering as she added, "Contrary to prior belief, I do tend to learn from my mistakes."

Tony sighed, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. He didn't want to admit it, but he'd kind of hoped that things would work out for Ziva. She'd had enough difficulty and deception for one lifetime. Even if he hadn't thought Ray was right for her, she seemed to like him enough…

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment, and Ziva rolled her eyes.

"You can drop the pretense, I know you hated Ray. Too many lies involved when it comes to the CIA, right?" Well yeah, that was definitely part of it. Tony bit his tongue to keep from voicing the other reasons he hadn't like Ray. "Whatever. I think I will take up a hobby. How hard do you think it is to build a boat in a basement? I mean, I will need to get a basement, but I can worry about that part later. Maybe I will start out small, building model boats in my living room, that sounds easy enough…"

"You've been spending too much time with Gibbs," Tony said with a light smile. "Don't give up so easily Ziva, a couple of bad relationships is no reason to turn into a bourbon-sucking hermit."

"If you say so." There was something to be said, though, when two of her relationships had ended in the man dying, one involved a man that was only dating her because her father ordered him too, and one ended because she didn't know if she could trust the man. "I am beginning to think there is something wrong with my judgment."

"Well okay then. Tell you what, next time you want to date a guy, run him by me and I'll decide for you whether or not he's a good person." Ziva raised an eyebrow at Tony, smiling just a little.

"Will any of them be good enough for you?"

"Uh…probably not."

Ziva shook her head, laughing a bit, and Tony mentally patted himself on the back. When he managed to make Ziva laugh, he considered it a good day. "What about you?" Ziva asked after a moment. "Are you and EJ still…?"

Tony shrugged. "That petered out a while ago," he said without regret. "Apparently things being easy aren't the only requirement in a relationship. The sex was nice, but I mean there was no…"

"Feeling?" Ziva guessed, and Tony nodded. "Just as good. She was all wrong for you, you know."

Tony snorted at that. "How long have you been wanting to say that?" Ziva didn't answer. Tony guessed the answer was a while. "Whatever. It was fun while it lasted, right?"

"If you say so."

They lapsed into silence. Ziva nestled back against her seat, closing her eyes. After a few moments her breathing evened out, and she was asleep. Tony watched her out of the corner of his eye, amazed, as always, by how young she looked in sleep. He couldn't help but wonder, though, what had happened to the snoring. She used to snore, didn't she?

It was a relief to finally pull up in front of Russell Shay's house. "Up and at 'em Ziva," Tony said as Ziva stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Let's talk to this moron and get it over with."

They climbed out of the car and headed up the pathway. "Mr. Shay," Tony called, knocking on the door. "It's Agents DiNozzo and David with NCIS, open up. We need to talk to you."

The door opened after a moment, revealing the thin, wiry man they'd spoken with at the beginning of their investigation five days earlier. "Agent DiNozzo, Agent David. Hello again. Can I help you?"

"You mind if we come in?" Tony asked, nodding towards the living room. Shay nodded, stepping aside and allowing the two of them into the house.

"Is this about Carl Rallis again? I told you guys everything I know…"

"Actually this is about Kevin Harding, Connor Pomera, and Thomas Brown. Do any of those names sound familiar to you?"

"Uh…should they?"

"Well seeing as how you called all of them—"

Tony words were cut off by a short yell of surprise and pain and the sound of electricity; he whirled around just in time to see Ziva crumple to the ground. "Ziva—!" Tony stopped short as the beefy man that had tasered Ziva pulled out a gun, holding it to Ziva's unconscious form.

"I wouldn't move if I were you, Agent DiNozzo," Shay said, his voice calmer and colder than it had been not thirty seconds earlier. "He tends to be a bit…oh, what's the word I'm looking for…trigger happy."

Tony raised his hands slowly, keeping them in the air for the two men to see. "Good." He heard Shay move to stand behind him, and he began patting the agent down, taking his gun from the holster at his waist and the back-up from within his jacket. He also took Tony's phone, dropping it on the floor and bringing his foot down on it, and he found Tony's handcuffs, which he then proceeded to use to cuff Tony's wrists behind his back. "Now. You are going to do everything we say, or we are going to put a bullet in this pretty agent's head. Any questions?" Tony grunted once in acknowledgement of Shay's words.

Shay pushed past Tony, going to take the gun from his partner. He kept it trained on Ziva as the larger man stooped down, picking Ziva up and throwing haphazardly over his shoulder. "Walk," Shay ordered Tony. Tony glared at Shay before turning away. "Right to that door there, go on." Tony gritted his teeth together, doing as he was told. The large man opened the door, giving Tony a shove. The man barely managed to catch himself before he went headfirst down the stairs the door had opened up to. He took the shove as a hint to go down the stairs.

"Hey, careful with her!" Tony protested angrily as the man deposited Ziva carelessly onto the cement floor.

"You're not in any position to be telling us what to do DiNozzo," Shay snapped as he handed the gun back to the large man as Ziva started to stir.

"Ow…what—" She cut herself off with a sharp gasp when she saw the gun pointed at her head and, in a very Ziva-like fashion, she started to take a swing. But the Taser shot had left her slower than usual, and the man had plenty of time to swing the gun around…leveling it with Tony's head.

"Move and I put a bullet in his head."

Ziva froze mid-swing, her eyes widening. "Right-o," Shay said with a smirk, and Tony instantly got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Stand up Agent David. Slowly now, that's it…" Ziva stood on slightly shaky legs; Tony noticed she was favoring her left side. Shay's smirk tightened as he moved closer to Ziva. "Now remember — one wrong move and we kill DiNozzo. And you wouldn't want that, would you? Arms out."

Tony bit his lips until he tasted blood as he watched Shay "pat" Ziva down. This pat down consisted of grabbing her breasts as he searched her for weapons and making an extra effort to pay attention to her back side when patting her legs down. If only looks could have killed — Shay would have been dead on the ground. But Ziva held her temper, well aware that Tony's life was in her hands.

These guys were good. They knew the partners would do anything they wanted as long as they continued to use one against the other. It was a foolproof plan.

Unfortunately.

Shay finished patting Ziva down; her weapons were discarded and her cell-phone received the same fate as Tony's. Shay retrieved a rope from a table in the corner; it was a hefty rope, probably for climbing. He tied Ziva's arms behind her back before forcing her to sit down against a wall, and Tony was forced to sit along the wall opposite hers, so she was facing him.

"Now," Shay said, shoving his hands into his pockets. He looked almost amused. "Unfortunately for everyone involved, I've still got a bit of time before our ride gets here to get us out of this dump. Unfortunately for you, you've got a bit more time before Agent Gibbs notices that you're both missing. And these walls are soundproof. So what do you say we have a little bit of fun until our ride gets here?"

"If you're flying the coop anyways you might as well tell us the truth," Tony said through gritted teeth. "You killed Petty Officer Rallis, didn't you?"

"And Lieutenants Harding and Pomera," Ziva spoke up. "And Petty Officer Brown. Right?"

"That's for me to know," Shay said with a smirk. "And you smart little NCIS agents to figure out."

Tony growled under his breath, doing some math in his head. It took roughly two hours to drive out to Shay's, traffic-dependent. Probably half an hour to talk to the man. Two more hours to drive back. Another half hour for the food stop Tony was bound to make. Meaning it would be three hours, at least, until Gibbs started to suspect something was amiss. And when he did, it would take him two hours — or, knowing his driving, more likely an hour and a half — for him to get out here and investigate for himself.

Which meant they had anywhere from four and a half to five hours before Gibbs found them. That was plenty of time for Shay to do whatever he wanted with them and make his getaway. Not to mention that while Gibbs was looking for them, Shay would be able to get nice and far away.

Shit.

Shay walked over to the table where he'd gotten the rope and picked up a syringe. Tony and Ziva both winced at the sight of it; they each had separate but equally bad memories associated with needles. Tony's stomach turned when Shay started towards him.

"What do you—" Tony started to say, but the large man instantly turned, leveling the gun with Ziva, and Tony fell back against the wall again, feeling paralyzed.

"Fight them Tony!" Ziva shouted at once, completely ignoring the gun pointed at her head. "You have no idea what is in that syringe, do not let them…"

But the words were yelled in vain. Shay grabbed Tony's arm, finding the most prominent vein and shoving the needle in, pressing down on the plunger. Instantly Tony felt sluggish, his muscles lax. "Don't worry," Shay said as he turned back to Ziva. "It's nothing that'll kill him, it'll just keep him…relaxed for the time being. Nothing to worry about."

The second man turned the gun back to Tony as Shay moved closer to Ziva, tossing the syringe aside. Tony tried to open his mouth, to tell him to stay the hell away from her, but the words didn't quite make it up his throat. Shay grabbed Ziva by the shirt, yanking her up and shoving her against the wall. She winced as her head connected with the solid surface. This was an all-too-familiar position. She didn't like it.

But then Shay leaned in, whispering, "Cooperate or we'll kill him." And the tension drained from Ziva's body all at once. Her eyes connected with Tony's own, slightly glassy gaze. Even with the drugs slowing him down, though, he'd realized what was about to him. There was horror in expression, and he was shaking his head, silently begging her to fight.

Then Shay's lips were pressing themselves against hers, his hot breath washing over her face, and she winced, squeezing her eyes shut. "Hey, what about me?" She heard the large man complain, and Shay chuckled.

"In time Rawling. We've got plenty of time before we get out of here, don't worry. You'll get your chance."

Shay's hands started playing around Ziva's body, grabbing her breasts and groping them roughly. Ziva pressed her lips tightly together, determined not to let any kind of pain show. She would not give this bastard any kind of satisfaction. No way. He pushed himself closer to her, moving his hands down to her pants and shoving them down, along with her underwear.

Tony watched, disgusted and sickened, as Shay ridded the obstruction of his own pants and boxers; somehow in the midst of groping Ziva, he managed to get a condom on. He was good, Tony had to give the bastard that. He wasn't going to leave any DNA behind.

"Stop," he tried to stay, but the word was a garbled mess. Damn it, damn it, damn it. His partner was being raped right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Damn it!

Ziva couldn't stop the pained gasped that slipped through her lips when Shay thrust into her. She bit her lip until she tasted blood. For a very brief moment, she was thrown back in time, back to the sun-baked prison she'd been held in for three months. Back to the time when all she'd been was a sex toy, used to satisfy the needs of the men holding her prisoner.

She was brought back to reality very cruelly when Shay thrust into her again. For a moment she wondered if she would have just rather stayed in Somalia.

It seemed like an eternity before Shay was finally done. He pulled out of Ziva one last time and stepped away, allowing her to slide down the wall and crumple against the floor. "Your turn," he informed Rawling, holding his hand out for the gun. Rawling passed him the gun before kneeling down next to Ziva.

Rawling was rougher than Shay. Or maybe it was just because he was bigger, Tony wasn't sure. Either way, Ziva's pain was more obvious this time. Rawling kept her pinned to the ground as he thrust into her again and again. Tony tried to focus on Ziva's face; her expression was impassive, her eyes squeezed shut. Tony felt sick; he was suddenly glad he hadn't been able to eat that stupid egg sandwich.

Ziva…

"Finally done, are you?" Shay asked as he moved over to stand over Ziva. Rawling was just standing up, zipping his pants. Ziva opened her eyes just a bit; Shay was letting the gun hang at his side now. Tony was still drugged, of course. And he probably figured that Ziva, in her current position, didn't pose much a threat.

Big mistake.

Ziva swung her leg, catching Shay in the ankles and bringing him down with a yell. The gun flew from his hand, landing less mere inches from Tony's feet. "Tony get the gun!" Ziva shouted, lunging at Rawling the best she could. On the one hand, she caught him in the knees; that was good. On the other hand, he came down right on top of her.

That was bad.

Tony tried desperately to grab the gun with his feet, but to no avail. Shay had already taken the gun, leveling it once more with Tony's head. Rawling growled as he straightened up, freeing Ziva. She coughed roughly, rolling onto her side just in time to have Rawling grab her arm, throwing her against the wall.

"You stupid bitch," he snarled, throwing his fist into her stomach. Ziva almost fought back — until she saw that Shay was once again in possession of the gun. Now she just doubled over, struggling for breath she had barely regained to begin with after having two-hundred pounds come falling down on her.

A car horn sounded from somewhere outside. "That's our ride," Shay said, backing up towards the basement door. "Let's go Rawling, come on."

Rawling let Ziva fall from his grip; she crumpled to the floor and stayed there. "Thanks for the fun, Agent David," Shay called as they started up the stairs. The second later the sound of a door opening and closing reached their ears.

Then they were alone.

"Ziva?" Tony called desperately, finally regaining some use of his voice. "Ziva!"

The beaten woman straightened up a bit, forcing herself to focus on her partner. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly, her voice wracked with pain. Tony's mouth almost hit the floor.

"Are you serious? I'm not the one they just…they…" His voice drifted off as he struggled to figure out what to say. Ziva cast her eyes around the basement; they hadn't left anything behind for them, not even her weapons. "Are you okay?"

"I will live," she promised, trying to push herself onto her knees. That failed when pain shot through her upper body and she fell back to the floor with a yell.

"Ziva—!"

"I am fine." Ziva brushed off Tony's concern the best she could. That wasn't strictly true. Her left side was burning where the Taser had hit her, her entire body ached from that stupid oaf coming down on her, and her lower half was throbbing in time with her heart.

But she couldn't let Tony know she was in so much pain. They had bigger things to worry about now; like the fact that they still had a few hours yet before Gibbs would even think to come looking for them.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Ziva asked, curling into a ball to try and minimize the pain. It was a tactic she had learned in Somalia; somehow making herself small made her hurt less.

"I'm fine, Ziva! All they did was drug me—"

"Drugs can be as bad as torture depending on what kind they are."

"Yeah well all this stupid drug is doing is making it very hard to think and move. Give it a rest. Worry about yourself."

"I am okay."

"Yeah, that's why you're curled up a tiny ball. Give it a rest Ziva, you're in pain. Just say it."

Like it would be that easy.

The next few hours were, without a doubt, the longest of their lives life. Tony tried to stand a few times, but his legs kept going out from beneath him. God damn drug. Ziva tried to stand as well, only to have pain incapacitate her. It took everything she had in her to keep from yelling out. A few times she was sure she was going to black out, but Tony kept her talking the best he could. As the time dragged by, the drug slowly worked its way out of Tony's system, and Ziva's breathing became a bit more labored as the effort to hide her pain became more and more difficult.

Finally, finally, finally the sound of the basement door opening reached their ears. "Hello?" Tony called at once, not really thinking. Ziva shot him glare, but before she could tell him to shut it, a familiar voice called back.

"Tony?"

Thank god. "I don't think I've ever been so happy to hear McGee's voice," Tony muttered before raising his voice once more. "No, James-freakin'-Bond. Would you just get down here?"

McGee yelled to Gibbs, then quickly made his way downstairs. He stopped dead when he saw the position his fellow agents were in. "What happened?"

"You know what, how about we explain later? Help Ziva, I've got handcuffs on. Unless you've learned how to pick-locks in the last five hours."

Gibbs came down just in time to hear Tony, and instantly made his way over to his senior agent, kneeling down beside the young man and setting to work on the handcuffs. McGee quickly went to Ziva, pulling a knife out of his pocket and cut away the ropes around the woman's wrists. "Are you okay?" He asked as Ziva started sit up and she winced noticeably. Her answer was predictable, of course.

"I am fine. They drugged Tony—"

"They beat the hell out of Ziva," Tony butt in at once as Gibbs finally got the handcuffs off his wrist.

"You're both going to the hospital," Gibbs said firmly. His tone left no room for argument; even Ziva didn't bother trying. "McGee, switch."

McGee found the order confusing, understandably enough. But Gibbs, with his ever observant gaze, had seen what McGee had miss; that Ziva's pants were undone, her underwear ripped. "Need help?" McGee asked as he walked over to Tony, who was attempting to stand. His legs were shaky, but they managed to support his weight nonetheless.

"Nah, think I'm good." He looked over at Ziva. The woman was leaning, a bit heavily, on Gibbs' shoulder, her eyes closed. They were still on the floor. Gibbs looked at his men, jerking his head towards the stairs, and they got the hint.

They stayed silent until they were upstairs and outside. Tony leaned against the car as McGee called for an ambulance. Before he was quite aware of what he was doing, he was bringing his fist down on the hood and swearing at the top of his lungs.

"Damn it!"

McGee jumped, staring at the agent with wide eyes. He didn't dare ask what had happened in that basement.

Gibbs wasn't surprised when Ziva tried to stand. He was even less surprised when her legs went out, and she crumpled back to the ground. To say she looked disgusted with herself was an understatement. "What did he do to you?" Gibbs asked quietly. Ziva just shook her head. "Okay." He wouldn't force her. "Come on." He took her arm, wrapping it around his shoulders and carefully helping her stand. He would have carried her if he thought she would ever allow it. But she was definitely too prideful for that.

It was difficult, navigating the narrow staircase to get themselves upstairs. Ziva needed to stop twice, her breathing labored, pain obvious in her expression. Gibbs tightened his jaw, trying not to imagine everything he wanted to do to Russell Shay. That son of a bitch…

It literally hurt to look at Ziva. Tony's stomach pitched as he watched her limp out of the house, Gibbs supporting a good deal of her weight. McGee opened the back door of the car so she could sit, and Gibbs carefully helped her sit down. She was trying to be strong, but Tony could tell she was close to passing out; she rested her head against the backseat, letting her eyes flutter shut. Gibbs looked at Tony, silently asking what the hell had happened down there. Tony just shook his head, gritting his teeth together.

He had a feeling this was going to stay with them for a long time.

Tony was discharged from the hospital only an hour after he arrived. He wasn't really hurt — not physically, at least. And by this point the drug had more or less metabolized, so there was nothing for the doctors to do.

Ziva was a different story. She was pretty much out when they brought her in, exhaustion and pain getting the best of her. She had been whisked away the moment she had been brought the ER door. That was nearly three hours ago; Tony hadn't seen her since.

Now he was sitting in the waiting room with Ducky, who had arrived not long after Tony had been released. He'd brought Ziva's and Tony's go-bags, not that the latter had been necessary, but hey, it was the thought that counted. He had filled what would have otherwise been a painful silence by recounting tale after tale that Tony forgot pretty much the moment he finished the story. But he was grateful to Ducky for trying.

Finally a doctor came out and said they could see Ziva. He had tried, quite desperately, to get Ziva to stay overnight for observations, but of course Ziva would never allow such a thing. Ducky hung back, allowing Tony to take Ziva's bag and see her by himself. She probably didn't want too many visitors anyways.

Ziva was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, staring very hard at the floor when Tony walked into the room. She looked up, her lips twitching into a small smile when she saw Tony. "Are you—"

"Please," Tony cut her off, setting the bag down on the bed next to her. "For the sake of my sanity, don't ask if I'm okay." The small smile faded, and Ziva nodded slowly. And suddenly Tony felt bad. "So…what's the final damage count?" He asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

"A concussion, a couple of cracked ribs, and a rather bad burn from the Taser. I will be fine." Tony noted that all the injuries were above the waist. It made him wonder what she was editing out.

"I'll wait out in the hall while you change," he said after a moment, backing out of the room and closing the door behind him. He wasn't really surprised to find Gibbs waiting out in the hall. The men stared at each for a long time before the older of the two finally spoke.

"I'm taking her back to my place for the night. You're welcome to join, but you're taking the couch."

"Well as inviting as that sounds…" Tony said with a grim smile, running a hand through his hair. "I'm fine. I don't need a babysitter. And you know she's going to say the same thing."

"Yeah well she's not getting a choice. What happened down there, DiNozzo?"

Tony half-considered not answering, but it wasn't like it really mattered. They were going to have to write reports about the entire mess anyways, he'd find out sooner or later. "There were two of 'em. Shay let us in the house, this big guy got behind Ziva and tased her. They had a gun on her, Shay said if I didn't cooperate, they'd shoot her. He took my gun and back up, cuffed me, then they brought us down to the basement. Ziva was coming around, so they turned the gun on me and pulled the same crap."

"Threaten one partner to subdue the other." Tony nodded slowly before continuing.

"Shay shot me up full of some crap, don't know what it was exactly but it made everything kind of fuzzy, couldn't really move or think. While I was drugged, they…" His voice drifted off, and he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a sharp breath and willing his stomach to stay where it was. "They took turns raping her." Gibbs winced unnoticeably. He'd had a feeling. But having it confirmed was a different story entirely. "They let themselves get sloppy though, I was still drugged and I guess they thought Ziva wouldn't be threat. She brought 'em both down, but the big guy came down on top of her when he fell. He started hitting her, then their ride got there and they both flew the coop."

Gibbs gave Tony a moment recover from telling the story before saying, "Big guy got a name?"

"Shay called him Rawling. If that's his first name, it's probably damn unique."

"Then let's hope it's a first name."

The door to Ziva's room opened then, effectively ending the conversation as the woman stepped slowly out. She'd refused pain medication, of course. No doubt she was feeling each and every one of her injuries now. "Gibbs," she greeted the man quietly.

"You're spending the night at my place."

"That will not be necessary—"

"I don't remember when this became a debate."

Ziva opened her mouth to argue, but gave in quickly, sighing and closing her eyes. "Fine," she muttered, clearly lacking the energy to argue. That right there scared Tony; Ziva was never too tired to argue.

"Invitation still stands, DiNozzo."

Tony held his breath as Ziva raised her eyes to look at him; those awful, empty, dead eyes. The eyes that had stared at him in Somalia as she flat out told him she was ready to die.

"I'm okay. I'll just…get Ducky to give me a ride home."

He turned and half-ran back to the waiting room. Ziva ducked her head, pressing her lips tightly together. She flinched a bit, surprised, when Gibbs rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Come on."

Ducky was mercifully silent throughout the ride to Tony's building. Tony thanked the older man with the best smile he could manage as he climbed out of the car and headed up to his apartment. The elevator was broken, of course; Tony didn't really mind though. Movement made it harder for him to think.

Because god knew he did not want to think.

Author's Note: That's pretty much the end of the M-rated stuff. But I figured this chapter probably called for it. The rest of the story's going to be T and below, promise. Anyways, who's ready for a shameless review plea? See, it's my birthday…and reviews make for great presents, you know? Please? ~Sam