NCIS 1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Boundaries**  
>Rating: <strong>T for the majority, but some chapters will be HUGELY M RATED. I will warn you at the beginning of each.**  
>Warnings: <strong>Heavy topics, sexual abuse, child abuse, violence, sexual situations.**  
>Summary: <strong>An AU tale in which Tony DiNozzo is an agent sent to investigate a sex slavery ring of girls from the Middle East, and his journey to get the one he falls in love with home. Tiva.

**Disclaimer: **No I do not own NCIS. I do own the characters that I created within this story.

I know there's not really much Tiva in this chapter, but trust me… we're just getting started. :)

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><p>DC's weather had always been predictably unreliable, using for example the fact that it was currently late September and still boiling hot. Special Agent Tony DiNozzo reclined in his desk chair staring at the ceiling, his tie loosened, suit jacket discarded haphazardly on the floor next to him and the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Errant beads of sweat wove their way down his forehead in what almost seemed like a race. Work was not even a thought right now, and instead he closed his eyes and listened intently to the static and muffled words coming from the old-fashioned radio on his boss's desk.<p>

'_Good morning Washington, and it seems we're in for another scorcher. Right now it's 98 degrees and it looks like the temperature's only going to go up from here…"_

Tony groaned and sat up abruptly, slamming his sweaty head down onto his work desk.

"Quit your whining, DiNozzo," his partner Kate's voice came from across the bullpen. He lifted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes at her. Smart, always-prepared Kate had come to work today with a desktop fan and in a thin shirt. Not that he minded the latter, but the former made him extremely jealous. Her dark hair was tied back in a messy knot and her lips were turned up in a grin.

"Like you can talk!" Tony whined. "You're perfectly content over there in your little corner of Antarctica while the rest of us are dying in the Sahara."

"Well maybe you should've thought of that this morning before you came to work."

"Maybe _you_ should've thought of your fellow co-workers' suffering before _you _came to work."

"Maybe _you_ should actually use your brain for once!"

"Would you two shut up?" McGee complained from the other direction. "As if the heat's not bad enough, I don't need the both of you giving me a headache." Tony and Kate glared at the Probie before backing down resignedly from their argument. But that didn't mean Tony was going to stop talking, of course, when did he ever?

"You have no idea how much I'd rather be at home watching _Magnum_ right now. In my air conditioning. With an ice cold beer…" his voice trailed off longingly.

"With _Sandy._ Isn't she your girl of the week?" Kate teased.

"Her name is _Cindy_," Tony scolded. He paused. "I think."

Suddenly their boss, the infamous Leroy Jethro Gibbs, appeared on the landing halfway up the stairs.

"DiNozzo!" he barked. Tony flinched.

"Yeah Boss?"

"MTAC. Now."

Kate sent him a flirty yet childish glance through her eyelashes.

"Ooh, someone's in _trouble_," she teased in a singsong voice. Tony made a face at her before leaping up the stairs two at a time to follow Gibbs into MTAC, wondering what on earth the grey-haired mute had planned for him.

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><p>After having his retinas scanned and blinking a little at the colourful shapes in front of his eyes, Tony entered MTAC and was surprised to find both Gibbs and the Director waiting for him. Whatever this was about, it was definitely big, he surmised from the serious expressions on both of their faces. On the large screen behind them was a map of the Middle East, with a red light blinking in the middle of what looked to be Israel.<p>

"Boss. Director," he acknowledged the two politely. Jenny's mouth quirked in a small smile.

"Since when have we been big on formalities, DiNozzo?" she smirked.

"Never," he replied without blinking. "If I may ask then, what's this about?"

Jenny paced towards him, meeting his eyes.

"We have a proposition for you," she said. "If you are interested in hearing it."

Tony smiled and gestured for her to continue; intrigued by whatever she had in mind and wondering if it had anything to do with the map of the Middle East still shining behind her. Jenny turned and nodded to one of the techs around the edge of the room and the map zoomed in to a remote area of Israel.

"This is Mitspe Ramon, a town situated in southern Israel. We have intel that an international sex slavery ring is being run from here, one that could possibly involve Syria, Lebanon, Egypt and Jordan as well." The map zoomed out again, showing the countries that the director had mentioned highlighted in red. "It's being run by a terrorist group called the Judea Freedom Movement, otherwise known as the JFM. They are also known for-"

"Being that group that are currently trying to steal US Military secrets," Tony finished. He'd been paying attention to what had been going on lately.

"Correct," said Jenny smoothly. "Unfortunately they were also stupid enough to make their group's information easily accessible. To us at least. And we have discovered that the entire operation has been moved from Mitspe Ramon…" the map zoomed out until the whole world was visible, before zooming into an area in between North and South America, "… to somewhere in the middle of the Sonoran Desert."

"Here?" Tony blanched. "How in the hell did they get into the country?"

"We have no idea. But we're in the process of figuring it out. Meanwhile, we need a man on the inside, someone we can gain further intel from, so we can both shut down the sex slavery ring and keep our country's secrets just that."

"And that's where I come in?" Tony figured.

"Yes, if you're up for it," Jenny smiled, knowing DiNozzo's answer already.

"Bring it on."

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><p>And that was how Anthony DiNozzo found himself driving a jeep through the Sonoran Desert, the hot, dirty wind blowing in his face. Attempting to dodge the rocks and holes in the ground proved futile, so instead Tony had to content himself with bouncing up and down roughly in the car like he was riding an untamed horse. And God knows he hated horses.<p>

The sun was almost at the exact centre of the sky, and the heat that he felt right then was the worst he had ever felt in his life. The air heavy and the skin on his shoulders and back blistering and peeling even through the fabric that covered them, Tony chuckled pathetically in his head about how naïve he had been to complain about how hot it was back in his office in DC. The office was a winter wonderland compared to this.

Tony swore as he hit a particularly big rock and rebounded almost a metre into the air, his stomach falling to his feet. When he landed back on the ground, the tires of the car skidded slightly and he continued driving, thankful that whatever he had hit, it hadn't been a cactus yet.

And finally, looming through the thick heat waves in the distance, Tony spotted the terrorist camp. All he could see was a few rundown buildings surrounded by a wire fence, but of course he could tell that the camp ran underground as well. Tony shivered at the thought of the men possibly being directly beneath him right now, separated only by a few metres of dirt. When he felt he was close enough without being seen, he pulled the jeep to a stop with a skid and climbed out.

_Now where to go from here,_ Tony thought, staring at the buildings. The air was eerily quiet and still, to the point where he almost imagined a tumbleweed rolling gently across the ground in front of him.

_ "You'll figure it out, DiNozzo,"_ said Gibbs in his ear, answering his unspoken question.

"You know I still don't understand how these earwigs are working from so far away, and without any signal."

_"That's because they aren't earwigs, Tony. It's more like a miniature walkie-talkie in your ear."_

Finally, Tony managed to get his feet moving and started heading towards the camp. The air was like soup, so every step he took felt like he was wading through water. When he got close enough to be in sight by any guards, he ducked behind a tall but pathetic looking tree and surveyed his surroundings.

There were four guards, one on each side of the perimeter and all facing a different direction. Each carried a rather large rifle in their hand, and various other smaller weapons clipped to their belt. Tony bit his lip as he contemplated what to do next.

Looking upwards, he found his answer.

The tree's largest and sturdiest branch extended far to the right, over the guard's head. And so, he began to climb. Finding a sturdy foothold, he reached and swung himself upwards, higher and higher. Soon, when Tony looked down, he found himself hit by a wave of nausea. Heights had never been his thing. Finally he began to edge his way along the branch in question. From up here, he could survey the entire camp.

And that was when Tony felt a pair of eyes on him.

He froze.

The eyes in question belonged to a woman sitting by herself in the blistering heat. She couldn't have been older than twenty five, her hair tumbling loosely in dark curls around her shoulders and her skin a caramel tan. She sat on a chair beside the largest building with a tub of water filled with men's clothing in front of her. For a second, Tony wondered why she had not attempted escape. Clearly there was no one watching her. But that was when he noticed the shackles cuffed what looked uncomfortably tight around her feet, attached to a large lead anvil that sat by her. The woman's eyes were wide and inquisitive as she looked up at him, her lips parted slightly like she were about to say something.

Tony instantly moved a finger to his lips, signalling her not to speak. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she closed her mouth, thankfully obeying him. Tony returned his gaze to the guard who was now directly below him and inched a few centimetres further along the branch, his heart quickening as it bowed slightly under his weight. And finally, he dropped the few metres it was to the ground, landing noisily behind the man.

Before he could speak, Tony had his hand clapped over the guard's mouth and his finger found a pressure point on his neck that caused him to go down without a sound. When he was on the ground, he removed a knife from his belt and plunged it into the bastard's side before cleaning it off and placing it back in its place. In DC, Jenny had given him permission to kill any of the men he came across, so he felt no remorse whatsoever. He dragged the lifeless figure into what looked like an old storage shed and quickly shed himself of his clothes, swapping them with the guard's. Though he didn't particularly enjoy having to undress and redress the man, he was glad to see that he was now adequately disguised and the guard himself looked like an intruder. He retreated from the shed, closing it quietly and latching it behind him.

_"Nice job, DiNozzo," _Gibbs breathed in his ear.

When Tony looked around to find the woman again, she was gone, the chair empty and the tub of clothes still there.

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><p>Thanks for reading guys. I know it's a little boring at the moment, but I have a whole story plan worked out and it <em>will<em> pick up. :) Please leave a review?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Rating: **T  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse, physical abuse

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><p>It wasn't long before the guards were called inside for a change of shift, and Tony was being shuffled inside one of the dilapidated buildings with the others. He pulled the hat he was wearing lower over his face, in case anyone noticed that he wasn't the other guard, but thankfully nobody spared him a second glance or made any conversation with him.<p>

The structure was less rundown on the inside, with high roof beams keeping it upright and a concrete floor. Light was scarce from the lack of windows and the air held an old, musty smell. Tony jumped when he realized a man was talking to him in another language, obviously Hebrew.

By the man's uniform, he could tell that whoever he was he was higher in rank than the guards. He grunted a string of unintelligible words at Tony before shoving him over to the right and towards a large, padlocked door. The man pulled a large metal ring filled with hundreds of keys from his pocket and inserted one into the lock. And finally, the door creaked open and Tony was thrown roughly inside, the door locked behind him. He took a second to take in his surroundings, and realized there were many sets of eyes upon him.

It was a cell.

Women sat on the ground cross-legged and lounged on bunk beds with thin mattresses. Their clothes were tattered and stained, their bones protruding from their skin. There were probably around twenty crammed into the room, of varying ages. A woman who looked to be around forty, with cropped black hair and beady eyes watched him from the corner. But most hauntingly, seven girls who couldn't have been older than twelve or thirteen huddled together in a small group, clutching each other's wrists.

The room was silent, and the women eyed him warily. Tony's mouth opened and closed a few seconds before he was able to form words.

"Do any of you speak English?" he asked calmly, attempting not to scare any of them. Apparently that failed, as many of the women recoiled from his words and edged further towards the back of the dingy room. Tony didn't blame them. He was a man, someone who they had been trained to fear.

"I do," said a voice from the back of the room. After searching for a few seconds, Tony was met with the sight of a woman who looked to be around thirty years old. Her hair was dark and straight, though obviously knotted, her cheekbones high and her eyes small, dark and probing. A deep purple bruise ran around the left side of her throat, and if Tony looked hard enough, he was sure he'd find finger marks. "I am Monique. Who are you?"

"My name is Anthony DiNozzo. But you can call me Tony," he replied.

"We are not friends," she snapped in return. Tony blinked. "What do you want?" Monique questioned defensively.

"I want to help."

The woman's eyes narrowed further.

_"Ha,_" she let out a humourless laugh. "That is what they said, is it not? 'Come with us, we will take care of you. We will keep you safe from the war. We only want to _help._"

Tony had no response to her.

"So what is it you _really_ want then, huh?" she questioned, her voice quavering with anger. "Take your pick. What is your age preference? Do you like them young, _innocent?"_ She grabbed the arm of a small girl nearby who squeaked slightly at the contact.

"_Monique."_

The hiss came from the back of the room, and Tony couldn't identify where it came from at first. Monique swayed slightly on the spot before letting the little girl go shakily. It was only afterwards that Tony was able to put a face to the voice.

Tony blinked when he realized that the woman who had spoken had been the one he'd seen outside. She leaned against the wall at the back of the room, her eyes narrowed and observing him through dark lashes. On closer inspection, the curls he had seen tumble over her shoulders were matted and messy, and that caramel tan was littered with bruises and old scars. But although she was dirty and way-too-thin, Tony could tell that the woman was stunning.

_"What_, Ziva?" said Monique.

"Get a hold of yourself," said the woman calmly, her eyes not leaving Tony. Monique quietened and slid down the brick wall and onto the ground, her eyes shining with tears.

Now Ziva spoke directly to Tony.

"You are not one of them," she said. It was a statement, not a question. She still eyed him distrustfully, warily. Tony nodded.

"Look, I'm not a guard. I'm-"

Tony was cut off by the door of the cell being slammed open and another guard standing in the doorway. His eyes scanned the room greedily, hungrily, and landed on a girl with waist-length hair who couldn't have been older than sixteen, curled in on herself in the corner. Her eyes widened with fear as he stormed over to her and grabbed her roughly by the forearm before yanking her out the door with him and slamming it behind him.

The girl didn't make a peep until the door was shut, and that was when he heard her scream. Tears burned at Tony's eyes and his heart plummeted and at that moment, it was the first time that he questioned if he could do this. If he could face this horror and know what was going on but have to sit idly by and do nothing about it for risk of blowing his cover. The other women looked solemn. But what scared him was how used to this they were now.

"Can I speak to you?" Tony questioned Ziva. She looked cautious but nodded and approached him. Tony noticed that she was a lot shorter than he had previously thought, the top of her head only just reaching his chin, and really slender. He looked directly at her. "I'm not a guard. You saw me break in and kill that guy." She pursed her lips and nodded once.

"I know. But just who are you then, Anthony DiNozzo?" she questioned. Tony blinked and shook off the fact that he enjoyed the way his name rolled off her accented tongue.

"I work for NCIS, it's a law enforcement agency in the US."

"You are police?" she inhaled, her eyes wide. "What are you doing? If they find out who you are they will kill you."

"I know. I'm here as part of an undercover operation. I'm gonna shut this thing down and get you all out of here," he said without a hint of doubt in his words.

He met the woman's deep chocolate eyes, and for a fraction of a second, he thought he saw a glimmer of hope. But then it was gone, replaced by a steely hardness.

"You are wasting your time," said Ziva coolly. "There is no hope for us. Go back to your home and forget."

And before he could say anything further, she had turned away from him and resumed her place on the floor against the back wall of the room. He watched as she pulled a small girl into her arms and stroked her hair comfortingly. While she lay in Ziva's lap, her eyes were trained on him. Scrutinizing, judging, worried, scared. These evil bastards had ruined these girls' lives… they would probably never be able to trust a man, or fall in love… or live past their twenties.

She nestled into Ziva's lap and closed her eyes, the tattered once-white dress the little girl wore riding up slightly as she did. And that was when he caught sight of the angry deep purple bruise on her inner thigh, in the perfect shape of fingers. Tony flinched at the sight. Ziva was now singing softly as she tied a dirty yellow ribbon in the girl's dark, wavy hair.

Yes, getting these women to trust him was going to be even harder than he had anticipated. But now he was so determined to get them out of here, that he knew he would move freaking mountains just to see them safe.

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><p>That night, Tony DiNozzo slept on a thin mattress on cold ground.<p>

Not that he actually managed to sleep much. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of home, of McGee and Kate, and even Gibbs.

"You still there, Boss?" he asked quietly.

_"Where else would I be, DiNozzo?"_

At any other time, Tony would have made a sarcastic comeback. But no, where he was and what was going on around him had sobered the agent entirely.

"Can you hear that?" he whispered.

He was referring to the quiet sniffles and sobs coming from the sleeping girls in the room. Every now and then he would hear a whimper or small cry come from one of the younger girls, and an older one would hold them and whisper comforting things in their ear. Tony hated to admit it, but this whole situation was affecting him a lot more than he thought it would.

Gibbs sighed on the other end of the earpiece.

_"Yeah. I can hear it."_

Suddenly Tony sensed that he wasn't the only one awake anymore. Looking up, he noticed a figure sitting leaning against the back wall and staring up at the tiny lone window that the cell had. He got up quietly and approached her, sitting down beside her. Ziva didn't look away from the window.

"I miss the night," she said suddenly. When Tony didn't reply, she continued. "I have not been outside at night time for thirteen years."

She paused, still focusing on the tiny patch of night sky visible through the window. "I still remember what it smells like, what it tastes like. Dew and honeysuckle and jasmine."

"When you all get out of here, you'll see it again."

Ziva chuckled softly.

"Your optimism is touching," she said.

They were quiet for a while, when she spoke again.

"My little sister and I used to play outside at night time. Our father did not like it, but Talia enjoyed the peacefulness of it. The sounds of the night animals. She always did love animals."

"Did?" Tony asked softly, enquiring about the use of past tense. Ziva opened her mouth to answer but no sound came out. Obviously he had encroached on a subject that she was not comfortable with talking about. They sat in silence for the next few minutes, watching the moon slowly make its path across the sky.

"Do you really think you can save us, Anthony?" Now she had turned her head to look at him for the first time since this conversation had started, and the moonlight highlighted the marks on her skin. The cigarette burns on her shoulder, the finger marks on her throat, the gouges on her collarbone and the bite mark on her jawline.

"I know I can," was Tony's answer as he swallowed hard.

"You may be able to get us out of this cell," she said quietly, "But you cannot save us."

"Why not?"

Ziva met his gaze and smiled a hollow smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

"Because we are already dead."

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><p>Thanks for reading so far! I'll be updating pretty frequently over the next two weeks because I'm on school holidays, but after that it will be a lot more spaced out. :) A review would totally make my day! :3<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long on this one guys. I went away on holiday and really had no way to update. On the plus side, I managed to get this entire chapter done and ready for uploading! Hope you like it. :D (I suggest going quickly over the last chapter for a refresher!)**

The first thing that Tony DiNozzo noticed when he woke up was a shooting pain in his back. He let out a high pitched yelp as his arm flew behind him. No, sleeping on a mattress thinner than Posh Spice was definitely not a good idea for a man with previous spinal issues. The second thing he noticed was a pair of eyes watching him intently from an alarmingly close location.

He exclaimed in shock and the little girl squealed and scurried backwards. Blinking his bleary eyes, Tony realized that this was the girl Ziva had been cradling in her lap the previous day. She couldn't have been older than twelve, with olive skin and a short, slight figure. Her large hazel eyes reminded him of a puppy or some form of squirrel and hair nearly black as night tumbled in loose waves over her shoulders. The dirty yellow ribbon from yesterday was still tied in the locks.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm not gonna hurt you," Tony reassured the child quickly. She merely blinked at him with those huge doe eyes of hers. _Figures, _Tony thought. _She doesn't understand English._

"You… not… scare me," she suddenly voiced, concentrating hard on what she was trying to say. "Me am… not scare anything!"

Tony grinned at her poor attempt at English.

"Not scared of anything, huh? What about… this? ROAR!" he exclaimed somewhat quietly. The girl jumped before giggling a little. Then suddenly she turned around and scampered away, and yes, definitely this time he saw movement that resembled a squirrel. Or a chipmunk. Some form of furry little woodland creature.

And finally he spotted Ziva. She had not moved from her spot by the window from last night, and Tony wondered if she had even slept at all. A hint of an enigmatic smile played around her lips as he approached her.

"Her name is Hana," she said softly. "She is my life. I took her in when she was brought here a year ago."

"She's cute," replied Tony.

"Yes. A lot of men seem to share your opinion."

Tony's head flicked to hers automatically and he discovered that she was purposely avoiding his gaze.

"Not in a… sexual way. She just seems so innocent," he marvelled, watching Hana drawing loopy, girlish pictures of love hearts and flowers in the dirt on the ground.

"She should have been. But that was taken away from her. Innocence is not a luxury we are able to indulge in here. Not any of us," Ziva said in a faraway tone. He could hear her voice quake slightly towards the end of her sentence and extended an arm to brush her shoulder comfortingly. Ziva flinched away from his touch immediately and stood up, creating a safe distance between she and Tony. Her dark-lashed eyes glared down at him.

"I told her she should not be afraid because you would not hurt us. Do not make a liar out of me, Anthony DiNozzo," she said coldly. She turned and walked away from him coolly, her words resounding in the air behind her.

"Boss, what's my plan?" Tony murmured, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.

_'Figure it out, DiNozzo,' _came Gibbs' response through the earpiece.

"I know, but it's gonna be harder than-"

"He is talking to someone!" yelled Monique suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger. "Who do you work for, traitor?" she snarled. Tony held his hands up in surrender and opened his mouth to say something, before he was cut off again.

"Liar! He lies!" cried the woman with the cropped hair.

"We not trust him."

"He hurt us."

"What we do?"

"Okay _stop!"_ shouted Tony, effectively putting an end to the outbursts. "I work for NCIS. It's a law enforcement agency in the US. We're trying to shut down this whole operation and get you out of here."

Ziva met his eyes as she translated for those who spoke little to no English. Slowly, as the words rolled off her languid tongue, the murmuring ceased. Wary looks were still being sent his way every now and then, but the majority of the women decided to leave him be. For now.

Ziva, however, regarded him completely differently. The openness she had displayed towards him previously had disappeared, and she looked at Tony professionally, clinically. He shouldn't have tried to touch her. It was a stupid mistake, a rookie one at that. Like she had _any_ sort of trust towards men in her life.

But yet, looking at her now, leaning back against the wall with her legs delicately crossed, Tony wanted to touch her more than ever. The tips of Ziva's hair were lit up golden with the light of the morning sun and she was now concentrating intently on tying Hana's unruly raven locks into a messy braid. He wasn't entirely sure where the impulse came from. Perhaps it was his weakness as a cop for damsels in distress, combined with his eagerness for a challenge. Either way, this sudden urge, this _need_ to protect her and heal her nagged at him like all of his previous stepmothers combined.

Tony had no idea how to deal with these women. The suspicious glares, the dead eyes, the bruises that covered their skin. He was out of his comfort zone to say the least.

But there was no way he was backing out now. Not after seeing what he'd seen.

The group of twelve year olds were currently sitting in a circle, playing some form of a hand-clapping game. Every now and then one of the girls would smile, but it would never reach her eyes. Tony noticed that they all wore nice dresses, ones that once might have been a bright color if not for the dirt and stains that covered them. He supposed the men wanted the girls to look pretty for them.

Those men were going to be pretty dead by the time this was over.

Tony had settled himself onto his mattress and was staring at the ceiling, attempting to make shapes in his head out of the cracks in the concrete when suddenly the door burst open and an angry voice yelling in Hebrew interrupted the peace. The man in the doorway looked around before spotting Tony and yanking him up by the collar to his eye level. His expression was livid and his muscles tensed as he continued screaming in his face, before hauling him back to the door. Tony was left a defenceless ragdoll in his vice-like grip and had no choice but to obediently follow along. Just as the door shut, Tony heard Ziva shriek something in Hebrew, but then the loud clang of metal echoed through the air and he was being pulled down the hallway.

They shoved him into the cell next door roughly, and as Tony hit the ground he inhaled a cloud of dirt and instantly retched it back up. His throat burned and his eyes watered. Attempting to face his attacker, he was presented with yet another guard instead. The man leaned against the wall with his eyes narrowed.

"We have found one of our best men," he began, his voice coarse like sandpaper. "Thrown in a storage shed and dressed in civilian clothing."

"Well that's strange. Maybe the guy's got a weird fetish or somethi-"

Tony's smartass reply was cut off by a hard backhand across the face. He sucked on the inside of his cheek tenderly, tasting blood.

"On the same day that we discover an unfamiliar guard speaking with an American accent!" the man snarled. "And we do not believe in coincidences."

"Hey, I know a guy like that. He's pretty kickass. I think you might even like him."

Tony was rewarded again with a hard kick to the gut that left him winded for a few seconds.

_"Would ya shut up DiNozzo? I'd like you back in one piece." _ Gibbs murmured through the earwig

Before he could stop himself, he'd replied "Got it, boss." He froze. The man blinked before his eyes narrowed into slits.

"Who are you talking to?" he yelled, his nostrils flaring. He came at Tony in a blur, grabbing him by his hair and shoving him down to the ground. His nails drew blood from Tony's ear as he roughly yanked out the electronic bug that sat hidden inside. With a loud growl, the earpiece was thrown to the ground and stomped on by the guard. A single orange spark flew from the dismembered wires, and then the bug, Tony's only lifeline to home, lay limply on the floor.

The guard left, slamming the door behind him, but not before dealing several more crushing blows to Tony's body. He stopped only when he heard a sickening crack come from the agent's ribcage and suddenly it was a lot more difficult for Tony to breathe. When the guard had gone, Tony stared blankly at the mass of wires on the ground, wheezing, and suddenly feeling more alone than ever. He guessed he hadn't realized the sense of comfort having Gibbs constantly in his ear had brought him. Now the only companionships he carried were his thoughts, and a strange hissing sound coming from the side wall.

He turned to investigate, dragging his aching body to the wall of the cell, and jumping slightly when he saw a familiar pair of deep brown eyes looking at him through a hole in the bricks.

"Ziva," he breathed, partly in relief, partly because his injuries left little effort in him. The eyes merely blinked in return. She moved her head upwards so he could see her lips through the gap.

"Are you alright?" she questioned, though not with concern. It irritated him now, the clinical, indifferent tone she used with him. He wasn't entirely sure why, but it did.

"I'm fine," he said back in a clipped voice. The slight wince in his words told different.

"You do not sound it."

"You don't sound like you care," Tony responded bitterly, without thinking.

"Am I supposed to?" she questioned back, genuinely puzzled. "I do not know you, nor trust you."

At this, he frowned. She was right. Why was he expecting so much of her? He had only known the woman for a night. Tony supposed the spark, that connection he had felt to her last night could perhaps have been one sided. Most likely one sided. Definitely one sided, he told himself. He mentally scoffed at his own idiocy. But when he turned to look towards the gap again, his heart jumped a little. Had her mouth always been so inviting? With full, rounded pink lips and a slight curve? He could just imagine taking that perfect bottom lip between his teeth and—

_No, no, NO. Stop it, DiNozzo._

Ziva was a vulnerable, broken woman, and he couldn't take advantage of her.

But perhaps that was the problem… he didn't want to take advantage of her. He wanted to heal her, hold her, show her that not every man in the world was selfish and evil, that some genuinely cared about her and her wellbeing.

Where all this was coming from, Tony had no idea.

"I'm fine," he reiterated, pulling himself up to lean against the wall. A slight yelp escaped his mouth at the impact, but his lips quickly tightened. There was silence for a while, and Tony thought that perhaps she had gone, until he heard Ziva's voice again.

"I do care," she whispered, almost inaudibly. "What I do not know is _why_."

He met her eyes through the gap once more.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, you know?" he said softly to her. "All of you. I promise."

Tony thought he saw liquid reflected in her deep brown orbs before she wrenched her gaze from his, and again he was left confused and wondering what he had said wrong this time.

Then suddenly, her hand had replaced the spot, reaching slightly towards him, and when he allowed his fingertips to brush hers, she did not flinch or pull away.

And Tony knew he didn't imagine the electricity that shot through his body and shook him to the core this time.

**A/N: GAH. It's so hard to restrain myself from just making them run into each other's arms already. But no, that would be to easy ;) These two have a long road ahead of them!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I spent a little longer on this chapter and made it almost twice the length of all the others! I hope that makes it worth the wait. :)**

**Chapter Rating: **T  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Sexual references, a brief non-con scene, one swear word

When Tony woke it was light outside. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony from slumping uncomfortably against the brick wall, his throat raw and cracked like sandpaper. He could feel a line of spit dried at his chin, and when he attempted to get up, tears sprang to his eyes from the shooting pains that coursed through his torso. Gingerly, he lifted up his shirt, and blinked at the sight of a large, angry purple bruise in the shape of a foot spread over his abdomen. There were several parts of it that were discoloured and uneven, leading him to believe that he had at least cracked, if not broken a rib. A raspy cough escaped his throat and resounded gloomily through the empty cell.

He was alone. Completely and definitively alone. And that was not something he enjoyed.

The segregated light that filtered past the lone window in the cell reminded Tony way too much of the glow that came through the door of his father's basement as a child. After Tony's mother died, DiNozzo Sr. had chosen drinking and a raucous party life in favour of raising his own child, instead leaving his eight year old self in the care of a host of boarding schools and nannies. But he still saw his father. Yes, the nights he stumbled through the front door reeking of white liquor and cheap cigarettes were still burnt into his memory like it had only been yesterday. And so were the sounds of his bellows of profanity, the feel of the crack of his belt on Tony's bare skin, and the tiny whimpering cries that escaped that little boy's mouth as he clawed desperately at the locked basement door.

Tony blinked away the sudden, vivid memory in favour of drawing idle sketches in the dirt of the cell floor. This was what he hated the most, being an agent, feeling helpless and out of action. Before he knew it, the doodles had begun to form escape plans. Diagrams of passages, weapons, doors and tunnels covered the floor around him and he smiled in satisfaction at the plan slowly taking shape inside his mind. Suddenly the sound of heavy footsteps and keys jingling ruptured the silence and Tony blew the dust away quickly to destroy the evidence. He could hear hushed voices outside the cell door and dragged himself to press his ear against it, ignoring the excruciating pain in his body.

"…she has been trouble right from the start!" a man was saying, the sound muffled. "We should have left her in that ditch thirteen years ago." Tony had no idea why he was speaking English, but left well enough alone because it worked in his favour.

"But she has brought good business," another gruff voice stated. "You cannot deny."

"I say kill her, before she causes any more mischief."

"Perhaps," the other man mused. He paused. "You should see her at night. Holding that little one as she sleeps, like she thinks she can protect her."

At that moment, Tony's blood ran cold and his stomach dropped to his feet. That was when he realized.

They were talking about Ziva.

One of them chuckled snidely.

"My, she is a pretty one though," said one of the voices in a tone that sent shivers down Tony's spine.

"Gorgeous. Would fetch a high price if we were to sell."

"But where is the fun in that?" He heard a smirk in the tone.

The other man made a sound of approval.

"I say we keep her for now. Have a little fun with her tonight, you and I. Decide if we kill her later."

When they both started chuckling and Tony heard the keys scraping the metal of the door, he wrenched his ear away, bile rising in his throat. The way they talked about her, as if she was nothing but a toy to sate their own urges… it made him feel physically ill. The need to get her and the other women the hell out of here rose alarmingly high in him. Now more than ever before.

But the idea of executing a rescue mission, especially one before tonight, was one that held little plausibility.

The door slammed open against the wall of the cell and the two men appeared in the doorway. Tony's heart sank. They were clearly well-built, muscles bulging from underneath their clothing. One was short and wide, carrying a large blunt instrument at his waist. The other was tall and even broader, with a dark, jagged scar running across his face from eyebrow to jaw. He scowled at Tony with contempt and as he entered the cell, Tony caught the glint of a knife concealed at his hip.

"Is this the part where you take me to your leader?" he questioned dryly.

"No. This is the part where I ask you for information and if you refuse, I beat it out of you," said the tall man. Tony winced subtly, suddenly feeling all his injuries at once. No, his body was definitely not up for a beating right now. But there was no way in hell he was gonna give these bastards _anything _they asked for, especially after what he had heard them saying about Ziva. His fists curled at his sides. Seeing this, the taller man crouched to his level, a murderous glint in his eye. He cocked his head to the side.

"You are not going to give us any problems, are you?" the guard smiled in an off-putting way. He flipped the knife across his knuckles until it was just brushing Tony's throat. Tony felt the cool sting of the blade and subconsciously swallowed, causing it to scratch lightly at his skin. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Good," said the man. "Now. Who are you?"

Tony clucked his tongue and gave the guard a disappointed expression.

"Well, that's not a very good question," he stated matter-of-factly. "A better one would've been 'What are you doing here?' or 'Who sent you?' You don't care who I am."

The guard frowned, confused by Tony's answer.

"Fine. Then what is your purpose here?"

"Just thought I'd take a vacation, you know? Get away for a bi-"

He was cut off by the shorter man walloping him across the back with the blunt object he'd brought in with him.

"Do not toy with us, boy!" he snapped in the familiar gruff voice. "Or this stick will go over your head. Tell us who sent you!"

"Your mother."

The men growled, simultaneously kicking him in the chest and whacking the instrument across his skull. Tony's vision went black temporarily, and he attempted to keep himself grounded as he blinked back the spots in front of his eyes. The two men switched to an angry string of what Tony assumed was Hebrew to each other, obviously arguing over what to do with him. Suddenly they calmed and swapped back to English.

"So you will not tell us anything?" said the tall one, grinning. "Then we shall see what your little girlfriend knows."

Tony was momentarily confused, still recovering from the blow to his head, and didn't register what they meant until they had left, door clanging shut behind them, and he heard the door of the cell next to him open. Then his heart plummeted. Forgetting about his broken body, he flew upwards and hurled himself at the cell door, pounding on it madly.

"_No!" _he yelled. "Don't hurt her! I'll tell you whatever the fuck you want, _please!" _he pleaded desperately to no answer. Suddenly the sound of Ziva's scream echoed from the cell and his heart twisted in agony. _"No, no, no, no, no!"_

He caught one glance at her through the tiny window in the door, being dragged down the hallway by her hair, eyes wide and petrified as they met his, and her mouth forming one word.

His name. Just his name.

Tony rocked back and forward on the floor of his cell, trying not to imagine the god-awful things they were probably doing to Ziva right now. He'd bitten his nails to raw, bloody stumps and his eyes were red-rimmed. He took a ragged breath and attempted to calm himself. He had to do something. There was no other option. But how he was going to get out of this cell, he had no idea.

Suddenly the door crashed open again and Tony jumped in shock. Half a loaf of bread was thrown in by someone unknown. Tony leapt on it like a homeless person, scoffing the stale crust down his throat regardless of the dirt he felt crunch in his teeth. Well, he hadn't eaten for the better part of three days. Despite knowing he should save the food because he had no idea when he would be fed again, the bread was gone in a matter of seconds, and Tony breathed a sigh of relief at there being at least something in his rumbling stomach. He was still licking the crumbs idly off his fingers when all of a sudden, he noticed something.

The door hadn't been shut properly.

His heart leapt at the possibility of escape, at the idea that he could save Ziva from whatever was happening to her now. Wasting no time, he pushed himself up off the ground and crept to the doorway, able to see a little of the hall outside through the gap between the metal and the wall. A guard stood just outside the door, and when Tony attempted to nudge the door further ajar, he whipped around in fury.

Tony's fist connected with the man's face before he could react and knocked him out cold, his body slumping to the floor in a heap. He quickly dragged the unconscious figure back inside the cell before leaving and shutting the door behind him. The hallway was otherwise deserted, an observation that was strange, but worked in his favour. Suddenly a patrolling guard walked past and shouted something in Hebrew. Tony used his momentary distraction to pull the man's gun from his holster and land an unfortunately loud shot right in the centre of his chest. He fell to the ground and Tony stepped over him, moving quicker now because there was no way that nobody heard that yell or that gunshot.

Sure enough, voices were suddenly audible from all corners and Tony's heart began to race in his chest. The chances of him getting out of here alive were looking slim, and those of getting Ziva out with him even slimmer. He rounded yet another corner of this proverbial rabbit warren and wondered how on earth he was supposed to figure out which of these perfectly identical cells she was hidden in. Facing him was the longest, widest hallway yet, with at least ten cell doors on each side. His throat went dry.

These cells were filled with twice as many women as the one he'd been in.

Tony had thought the men were harbouring twenty women at the most, now the number was skyrocketing to the hundreds. Sniffles and quiet sobbing were heard from each cell, but one noise stood out among the others. Soft murmuring; men's voices. He followed the sound intently, light on his feet, pausing only to duck behind a support beam when yet another gun wielding guard sprinted through the hall.

After passing many more of the overcrowded cells, he finally reached the one at the end of the corridor, and instantly knew it was the one he was looking for.

They hadn't bothered to shut the door, leaving it gaping ajar and giving Tony a clear view inside. The two men were the first thing he saw, both not facing him. And there, backed against the cell wall and recoiling in fear, was Ziva.

Her figure was pressed up rigidly against the bricks, the giant guard holding a knife precariously at her throat. The other one's hands were on her in a way that made Tony's vision cloud with red. His stubby fingers roamed the curves of her body shamelessly, grasping and stroking with glee. Sliding flattened palms up her abdomen to grope at her breasts, he buried his face her neck, murmuring something unintelligible from where Tony stood. Suddenly, Ziva's tear-filled eyes met his gaze and he saw a flicker of recognition run through her. Her eyes widened further. She opened her mouth, bottom lip trembling, as if to say something over the guards' shoulders, but only mouthed the word _'Don't.'_

Don't what, don't _rescue_ her? Was she afraid for his safety? Did she want him to continue on his journey, pretending he saw nothing and leaving her there to be done with whatever they pleased? Well, there was no way that was ever going to happen, especially now because one of the guards' hands was at his belt buckle and he was pushing up her dress and—

Tony's gun was out and aimed before he could stop himself, and the echo of his shot resounded through the room before the man dropped to the floor. A strangled sound escaped Ziva's throat and she whimpered slightly at the body now heaped at her feet. The taller guard froze in astonishment before whipping around to face his intruder. After recognizing him, his eyes narrowed in absolute fury.

The target of Tony's gun had now switched, pointing at the spot right between the guard's eyes, which flitted around like those of a caged animal, assessing any form of possible escape strategy.

"Give me one good reason," Tony snarled, his hand trembling slightly with the rage he possessed.

Before he could react, the guard had snatched up Ziva once again, his knife poised at her throat. Tears were now flowing freely from her eyes.

"Because if you shoot, she's dead," the guard growled in reply. Tony swallowed.

"If I shoot, _you'll_ be dead before you can do it," he said uncertainly.

The man smiled wickedly.

"But how can you be sure?"

Ziva choked a little as he dug the knife the slightest bit further into her skin. Tony flinched before steadying himself.

"Unfortunately, that's a chance I'm going to have to take."

Tony's finger finally pulled the trigger, landing a shot squarely in the middle of the guard's forehead. His blood sprayed over Ziva's face as he fell backwards, colliding into the bricks and slumping to the ground, still. Ziva stood stationary in shock.

Until suddenly she hurled herself at Tony with almost enough force to send him falling over. She clutched at his shirt and buried her face in his chest as her sobs finally took over and wracked her body, shaking violently. Hesitantly, Tony wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, relishing in the feel of holding her like this. With one hand he stroked her hair, the other cradling her body. He didn't even pay attention to what he was saying as he whispered comforting things into her hair. He pulled back to look into her eyes.

"Come on," he urged, pulling her arm.

And to his surprise Ziva followed him willingly as they exited the cell and back into the deafening haze of gunfire and alarm sirens.

Tony dragged her through the halls in the direction he was sure he had come from, but the maze was too complex to know for certain. All of a sudden, the gunfire sounded a lot closer. He felt the familiar breeze of bullets flying past him and quickly pulled Ziva down behind a large crate before taking aim and firing at the source. The man let out a loud shout and shot faster until one of Tony's bullets finally hit home. He grabbed Ziva's hand and they continued, sprinting now.

"We've gotta get out of here!" Tony shouted over the gunfire. Suddenly Ziva skidded to a halt.

_"No!" _she shrieked. "Not without Hana! They will torture her for information!"

"Ziva, we don't have time for-"

_"Please!" _she cried desperately. Tony hesitated, then groaned, now heading towards her cell.

They flung the door open and the women inside jumped violently. Ziva wasted no time. She dodged the figures before crouching down to Hana's level and cupping her small face in her hands. The girl's eyes looked even larger than normal, widened in fear and apprehension. Ziva murmured a few quick sentences in Hebrew and then Hana was following her out, gripping onto her hand like a vice. A few shouts of questioning and protest escaped the other prisoners but Ziva shut them up with a quickly snapped phrase.

"We're coming back," was all Tony could manage to say. "For all of you." His gaze landed on the group of petrified twelve year olds, and he knew that he would keep his promise.

The door clanged shut behind them as the three; Tony, Ziva, and little Hana formed a human chain through their linked hands and tore towards the exit. Tony's heart sank as he realized there was still a guard manning the door, and he didn't know just how many bullets he had left.

His worst fear came true when he and Ziva pulled the little girl behind a wall and Tony attempted to fire at the man. The gun clicked and nothing else happened. Ziva's expression grew panicked as she reached the same realization he did, and opened her mouth to say something until Tony quietened her, spotting a dagger laying on the floor a few metres away.

And right in the line of fire of the guard.

Ziva figured out quickly what his plan was and shook her head vehemently.

"No! It is too dangerous," she protested.

"It's our only choice," Tony concluded. Ziva's eyes watered once again and she pulled Hana closer to her, the girl crying openly.

He gave one last reassuring squeeze of Ziva's hand and dove out in the open for the dagger.

It took the guard a precious few seconds for his reflexes to set in and to open fire. By this time, Tony had fisted the dagger and lunged towards him. He felt the familiar searing pain of hot lead tear through the skin near his shoulder but jumped at the shocked man anyway, sinking the knife into his chest. His gun fired wildly, missing Tony by inches, until his body finally lay still. Wasting no more time, Tony hurried back behind the wall and reached for Ziva and Hana once again, ignoring the excruciating pain in his shoulder.

And finally, he captured their hands, pulling them out of the exit and away into the night.

**A/N: They're finally FREE! :D Please drop me a review on the way out, it makes all the hours put into this seem worthwhile! :3**


End file.
