A/N: Tony DiNozzo thought his life was going great with Ziva back…until he got a phone call
"Three gunshots to the head, and abrasions to the neck. I say he was shot and then strangled. Poor guy, it's quite sad really. He never stood a chance."
"Well someone definitely hated him," Tony stared down at the bleeding body lying upon the bed.
"We dusted for samples of hair, fibers, and DNA. We won't know anything until we get the results back," Ducky shook his head, "Somebody really wanted to show this guy pain. His death would have been unbearable."
McGee and Ziva were snapping pictures of the crime scene, Gibbs was taking to the girlfriend who had discovered the body on her way in from work, and Tony was scrawling down details in his notebook. His familiar ringtone – the theme to the Sopranos – played annoyingly.
"Can't you turn that thing off or at least change that ringtone," Ziva rolled her eyes.
Tony wanted to quip back a reply but couldn't upon seeing the number on the phone.
"What's wrong?" Ziva asked.
"You okay, Tony?" McGee looked up from his camera.
"No…it's my…my dad."
"I better go check on him," Ziva sighed, "It's been fifteen minutes."
McGee bit his lower lip thoughtfully, "His dad, huh?"
"The dad that cut him off? The dad that made his life a living hell?"
"That one," Ziva shook her head, "I wonder what he wants with Tony now?"
"Beats me. Go ask."
Ziva excused herself and made her way out back. Tony was sitting with his back against the house, his head in his hands. He looked up upon hearing her footsteps.
"You alright?" Ziva asked. His face looked pain-stricken and confusion scribbled its autograph across his forehead.
"No…Zi…my dad has…my dad has had a heart attack."
"That was the doctor. He got my number off my dad's cell phone. He was at work when it happened and the ambulance rushed him to St. Michael's. The doctor said he has to have heart surgery and I should come to the hospital right away. Chances don't look good."
Ziva didn't know what to say, instead she sat down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting.
"I…I don't even know what to say to him."
"Tony, I know you aren't happy with your father's choices. You have said that he wasn't easy to live with but he is your father."
"No, no he isn't."
"Ziva, he cut me off when I was a teenager. I had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. What kind of father does something like that?"
"A father who isn't worthy of having a son like you," Ziva stood up from the grass and held out her hand, "Let's go."
"Seriously. You have always had my back, Tony. It's time I do the same for you."