A/N: So, this one popped into my head when I saw the ending of Hiatus part II once more. Don't know if it is a one-shot or if I'll expand on it. Guess it'll depend on the reviews of this.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and this is written for non-profit purposes only

So, as always Read Enjoy and Review

Cjb1990

Tony stood frozen, looking at the closed elevator doors where Ducky and Gibbs disappeared behind. He couldn't even make his eyes look around him to check the rest of team Gibbs. No that wasn't right, his team now. But he didn't want it to be his! He wanted him to lead him, to have his shoulder, the arm around him that said 'don't worry, I'll always be here for you'. But Gibbs didn't remember him. Didn't remember finding the RIMA graduate without a family. Didn't remember becoming his father, no his dad. He just didn't remember him.

Tony's heart broke in a million pieces. He knew his dad, and he knew that if he were to race to the house in Alexandria, there would be no one there. He swallowed thickly, and forced his body to relax a little so he could move.

He walked to Abby and pulled her into a hug. He felt her shoulders heave and her entire body tremble; her world was collapsing in this moment. His eyes were drawn to the Director. Shepherd looked devastated as well. Just like his Probie and Ziva. And he realized he had to be strong for them, to force his own abandonment deep down, in the same space that his father existed in. because if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to survive.

It was later that day well into the hours of the night. He had sent the team home without any hesitation. He told McGee to stay with Abby without any 'hinky business'. He was sitting at the old sofa, staring at the fireplace that wasn't lit. The homey feeling the house always exuded to him, was absent.

He was drinking his dad's bourbon, in a desperate attempt to make himself believe another parent didn't leave him behind. Only he was not making any headway in that department. Now getting drunk, that was going in the right direction.

He was shaken out of his thoughts as he heard the door open. His hand automatically went to his sidearm, ready to point it at the intruder.

"Tony?" a deep gravelly voice sounded through the house and Tony sighed, feeling tears prickling in his eyes.

"Uncle Morrow," he answered, not able to keep the tremor out of his voice.

Within seconds the former NCIS Director was standing in front of him. Although for most of his life, the man was not a boss but an uncle for him.

"I heard, kid," the man sat down next to him, putting an arm on his shoulder.

Tony almost broke down at the touch. "He doesn't remember," he choked out.

"I know, kiddo," the man spoke softly.

"He's gone," Tony had difficulty breathing.

"Yes he is," Tom spoke, his voice making his words like a eulogy for the father Tony had found when he was eighteen.

"He's gone," the sudden realization truly sunk into his being with those words. It broke Tony's resolve and he found tears pouring out of his eyes and his shoulders shaking.

Tom Morrow moved his hand to the opposite shoulder, pulling the young agent into his side. At this moment, the Deputy Director of Homeland could actually shoot the old bastard if he were here. And his heart was breaking for the sobbing young man in his arms. He had been the Director of NCIS when Gibbs had started there under Franks.

And he had gotten to know the young man that Gibbs had taken under his wing when he had been assigned to RIMA to finish his enlistment. In the next two years, he had seen Gibbs boast to him and Franks about 'his boy' shining in the football and basketball at Ohio State. He had actually been to a game once, with both Gibbs and Franks. The three had proven his rocks. And they had all let him, after finding out the bastard Tony had the honour of calling his father.

They were the once who had helped him decide what he would do, when his knee had been destroyed in the match against the Wolverines. They had all been supportive when he had gone to the Police Acadamy, though all had been displeased when they had found out he went to Peoria, then Philly and then Baltimore.

It was there that Gibbs had drawn the line, when they had found out his partner was dirty. Gibbs had dragged him to NCIS, and Tom had allowed him to put Tony on his team. There was no blood relation after all. Plus, Tom knew that with all the crap Tony had had piled on him in those past six years, his faith was shaken. Tom had been quick to realize that only Gibbs would be able to restore that faith.

After six year of official abandonment, he had started to see Gibbs as his dad. A careful distinction of the moniker father, which was reserved for DiNozzo sr. And now, a parent once more left him behind.

Morrow cursed under his breath, he didn't know if Tony would ever recover from this. And he couldn't fall apart; he had to stay strong for his team. Weakness was not possible, or Jenny Shepherd would prey on him like the political predator she was.

"I got your six, kid," Tom spoke to the bereft man. "I promise, I'll always have your six, Tony."

The two men stayed on the sofa in that silent and dark house for the rest of the night. Not speaking, just drinking the rotgut bourbon that Gibbs always preferred. It was as the first rays of light started to appear over the rooftops that Tony extracted himself out of Tom's embrace.

"I've got to go to the office," Tony spoke lowly. "The team will be in, and they'll need me to watch out for them now."

"And who'll watch out for you?" Tom growled.

Tony smiled, and Morrow almost froze in his seat with it. It wasn't the usual DiNozzo smile. No this smile was sad and heart-breaking in its grief and loneliness.

"Guess I'll have to go back to watching my own, Uncle Morrow," he whispered forcing his tears back.

"The hell you do!" Tom spoke fiercely. "You call me, you hear me! I don't care what the hell it is for, but you will call me! If I hear nothing from you for over a week, I'll step into the bullpen. You got me?"

Tony nodded, before he slowly put himself on his feet. "Thank you for this," he spoke to the man seated on the sofa.

"I told you way back when, Tony," Tom stood up and grabbed the man's chin between his thumb and index finger. "You're his, so that makes you mine."

Tony's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Guess after all this crap, you now have sole custody."

Without waiting for a reply he made his ways up the stairs, to get a suit he knew was lying around in the guestroom somewhere.

Morrow wanted to wait until Tony was ready to leave, but a phone call of his Director made that impossible. Writing a quick note with another emphasis to call him whenever he needed to and reminding him once more of mandatory phone calls once a week, he stepped out into the morning air.

Giving the desolate house another glance, Tom cursed the fates that led to Tony's situation. Screw goddamn terrorists, screw amnesia and screw Leroy Jethro Gibbs who was a stubborn emotional stumped bastard. He just hoped he could keep the boy from self-destructing, but somehow he doubted it. And that was a thought that made him shiver all in itself.