Title: Who Am I

Disclaimer: The do not belong to me, I just borrow them and then return them the same way I found them... well almost.

Christmas Eve

The prank had gone well, nobody suspected a thing, not even Gibbs.

Yeah, it was a little over the top, but it worked, it had gotten the attention off of me, my weird behavior. I was more than happy to see them angry at the prank, Ziva still hasn't said a word to me since early this morning and McGee has been muttering something all day about my behavior being a rouse. A prelude to the the prank. If only they knew that the prank was as forced as the smile that I plastered on my face afterward.

If only they knew the truth, if only they understood what it was all about. Why I couldn't talk about how I really feel inside, how I seem so lost now, so alone with what I have uncovered, what I haven't still yet uncovered. A piece of my past that I have hidden so deeply inside of myself , hoping never to never have to relive it, but then to have to experience it again, but she had insisted, said it would assist me in moving forward.

The therapist said I was blanking out my past, what had happened that day so many years ago, the day that my mother had died such a horrible death. I was only eight years old, a kid.

The therapist had used a new technique to bring forth my suppressed memories, and it worked, it worked too well. I had to relive the day my mother died, the day she was murdered. Now all I feel is an overwhelming feeling of being numb, unable to deal with the truth, the horrible truth, that I had actually been there, within the murderer's reach, but he had left me alone, untouched. The only scar found on me that day was the sight of my mother being shot, point blank, the face of the man who had pulled the trigger now etched into my mind. The stained memory of blood flowing from mother's chest, the screams that were a prelude to the fatal shot, which now echo constantly in my mind. I feel as if I 'm going crazy.

They never caught the killer, no evidence left behind, an eight year old boy who was in shock, unable to give a description, unable to tell them who had taken away the only person who had ever truly loved him, even if it had been through a drunken haze. She was still that little boy's mother, my mother. I almost feel separate from this boy, that he is not me.

I type a few words on my computer, then it dawns on me, they are looking, staring at me. Could they possibly see through my mask? I am a clown, notorious for hiding my true feelings, making sure nobody ever sees the real Tony DiNozzo. Can they see me now? Surely not, the mask was in place, my emotions are in check. So what has gotten their attention? What has given him away?

I cautiously look up to see their puzzled faces. What are they looking at? Then it dawns on me, my eyes are stained with tears, my face reddened from the memories of my mother dying in my arms, a childhood shattered, a life changed forever. My flashback has given me away.

I stand to move but am suddenly blocked by Gibbs, who seems concerned, worried.

"I'm fine boss." I mutter, hoping that that would be all that was needed.

"Not buying it DiNozzo." he retorted. The man can read me, he can see the pain that I'm so desperately trying to hide.

"Please." I plead, wanting to escape before I totally break down, before I fall to pieces in front of the team I respect so much.

Gibbs nods and moves out of the way.

I scramble for the elevator, hoping, praying that nobody will follow. I need a few minutes to pull it together, to gather my thoughts, to regain my composure.

As my hand reaches for the down button I feel his breath on my neck. I know that it is him, he has been patient, but now he wants answers, the truth, and I don't know if I can tell him the truth. I don't lie to Gibbs, can not lie to Gibbs, to the man whom I respect more than any man I have ever known. Yeah, I did once, but I regretted it, hated myself for it. I promised myself I would never do it again.

He follows me inside, and stands quietly as the doors close.

He reaches over and turns the elevator off, the lights go dim, for which I am glad, my tears are now hidden in the darkness.

"Spill it Tony." Gibbs words are direct and to the point, guess he is tired of playing the game I have been playing for the past two, maybe three days, I owe him the truth, but it does not want to come out. It is stuck in my throat and all I can do is stand there quietly, in pain.

"Can't boss. Not now." I finally answer. I want to get off the elevator, I feel claustrophobic, overwhelmed.

He nods in understanding, he seems to see my restraint, my need to hold back and restarts the elevator, he will give me time. I need time. I need more than time actually, I need answers.

Hope you like! More tomorrow.