Hi there! Sorry about the delay in getting this chapter out, I'm a bit distracted recently. Had a job interview for a nice position in a great company so I've been more than a little absent minded. Hopefully I can start getting things out at a faster pace though. Not a ton happens here, just some exploring of emotions and getting the boys pointed in the direction I need them. Things will actually start to happen in the next chapter or so. Hope you read anyway, sorry for the lack of excitement! Have an awesome one!

~Renee

"No."

"But Gibbs!"

"No."

He was not caving on this. No. This was his line. No.

"But look at him." Bright green eyes suddenly met his, echoing the matching set inches behind the fuzzy head. "He's purring." Tony said, gently pushing the cat closer to him.

"Tony, we're not getting a cat."

Tony's eyes widened. "Jethro."

No. No. No no no no no no no. He didn't like cats. No.

Tony widened his eyes and cradled the tiny creature to his chest.

No. He had a rule about pets. No.

"Please?"

Gibbs sighed. This was pointless. "If it destroys my woodwork…"

Tony's smile split his cheeks and he artfully dropped the kitten on Gibbs' shoulder. The cat rumbled and rubbed his face on Gibbs' ear.

"DiNozzo… what's it doing?"

Tony grabbed Gibbs' wrist and led him back towards the car. "Claiming you."

Tony stretched out on the couch, his legs looped over the back and feet pressed against the window. The sun was warm through the glass, relieving the ever-present ache in his calves. He rubbed his chest absently and stared up at the ceiling. The house was quiet. Empty.

That morning Gibbs had met him in the hallway with wide eyes. He stuttered for a moment and then muttered something about groceries before stealing down the stairs and out the front door. Tony had watched him go impassively and then carefully made his way to the living room. He'd been like that lately. Like he was lost. Or frightened.

Tony buried his hands in the soft cushion underneath him, relishing the way his body sank into the battered couch. He knew this where he should probably stay, his legs were supposed to be rested, not worked going up and down the staircase everyday but the thought of being stuck in the main room without ever having a promised moment of silence was unbearable.

And to always be in Gibbs' line of sight.

He winced.

The way Gibbs looked at him…

Tony closed his eyes tightly.

This was a bad idea. He knew that the moment he climbed into Gibbs' car. When he felt the seatbelt tighten and Gibbs had pulled carefully into traffic, slow and steady and cautious.

Wrong.

Then they had come to the house. There was still a fine coating of dust on the floorboards, evident that Gibbs hadn't even entered the house since he had come back. The basement door hadn't been opened. No traces of sawdust being tracked.

Tony turned his head and looked towards the hall and imagined the should be open door. He knew that basement better than any other place in the world. The scent of bourbon and dust and grease. Muffled laughter and hushed words.

There was a dent in the door now. A crack running up the wood. A splinter that based itself from a crater the size of Tony's fist.

Gibbs hadn't noticed. Hadn't even looked at the door.

"What am I doing?" he murmured.

"Something stupid. Probably."

Tony started then instantly relaxed, not turning from his study of the hall.

"Hey Tobias."

"Tony."

The man let the door shut quietly behind him and approached the figure half curled on the sofa. The cushion dipped down as Tobias sat near Tony's bent legs. He winced looking at them, the bandages were creased and what little skin that was revealed was angry and inflamed. He needed them rewrapped.

"What are you doing here? Thought the FBI was sending you out to liaison in the LA case?"

Tobias blinked and his eyes shot Tony's face. "You aren't supposed to know that. How do you know that?"

Tony's lips twitched up. "Have a friend in the LAPD, he's liaising for the NCIS office there."

Tobias waited for a moment but Tony didn't offer anything else. "Why does the NCIS-LA office know FBI movements?"

Tony's grin blew into a full smile. "You have any idea who runs the LA office? If you're coming into her city, she knows before you buy the plane ticket."

Tobias raised hi eyebrows. "Huh, I'll remember that."

Tony nodded and settled back into silence. Tobias let it set for a moment while he studied the younger man. He was still too thin, Gibbs hadn't been forcing food on him. Still too nervous to push him away. He was pale as well. His natural tan had faded and his eyes were dull. Tired.

"How's Emily?"

Tony turned slowly, trying to get his feet to rest on the floor but Tobias wrapped a gentle hand on his ankle. Tony paused and stared at him wide eyed as Tobias rested his legs across his lap. The older man met his eyes and shrugged as he settled back on the sofa.

"She's good. Apparently planning a big surprise for you." His hands lifted up in the air before Tony could say anything. "Don't ask me, she's keeping it under tight wraps."

"Tobias Fornell, a top agent for the FBI and he can't crack his elementary school daughter."

"Shut up Tony."

He laughed and Tobias watched as some of the tension leaked away.

"So how's everything going here?"

Tony's smile dimmed. "I think he's scared of me. Or of what he's remembering. Bits and pieces are coming back to him and… I think they're not what he expected. I'm not what he expected."

Tobias sighed. "He's trying kid."

Tony rolled his eyes at the moniker but didn't protest it. "I know. Sometimes I wonder if he should though. Maybe he'd be happier if…" Tony shook his head. "I don't know. I know he wants things the way they used to be, but if he knew exactly what he thinks he wants, I wonder if he really would."

Before Tobias could sort out that sentence Tony stretched and grimaced. "So Emily asked me my opinion on hippopotamuses when she called yesterday…"

xxx

Gibbs sat in his car, his hands tracing over the worn leather wheel.

Tony was inside.

Waiting for him.

His stomach churned.

What was he doing?

He didn't know what he expected. To step across the threshold with Tony by his side and suddenly remember. To know the big heavy things. The days after Kelly and Shannon's death. Finding Mike. Meeting Tony.

Honestly, he would shave settled for the smaller things as well.

The color of Kate's eyes. McGee's nervous stutter.

Tony's laugh.

He could hear it, echo through dreams. Just on the edge of memory.

But he hadn't heard it. Not since coming back. Not the real thing.

He sighed. The groceries were in the back, milk was growing warm despite the cool fall afternoon.

He needed to get out of the car.

He needed to go inside.

He needed to see Tony.

He was scared.

He didn't even know of what anymore. The ache in his chest when he met Tony's eyes and there was a lash of emotion that the younger man could never quite bury. Something fierce and longing and full of pain. Something he recognized but couldn't put a name to. Maybe it was the way he flinched away from his touch whenever he tried to help. As if the mere contact was causing him more distress than whatever Gibbs was trying to help him with.

He was scared of hurting him. Of hurting himself. Of getting this wrong. Of never being able to find the man who hovered in the cobwebbed corners of his memory.

He was scared of himself.

xxx

Tony was asleep. His eyes had been growing heavy during Tobias' stories. Emily had kept his chock full of interesting tales that he was all too happy to pass on to Tony. His voice had grown softer and slower as Tony's lashes fluttered down and stayed still.

Tobias pursed his lips. He didn't realize how labored Tony's breathing was until he was unconscious. The pneumonia was slowly being worked out of his system with a ridiculous amount of antibiotics, but he could still see the fear on his face when he struggled to get a full breath. The film that would cover his eyes when he gasped, his mind obviously in a different time. A different struggle.

he turned his head, shying away from the imagined look on his friend's face.

It was quiet. Tobias relaxed against the sofa and let his thoughts drift. Tony had never let the subject go back to Gibbs. He avoided it in all the ways he could, his voice bright and distracting as he skipped around his former boss. Tobias closed his eyes. He knew Gibbs was trying, knew he wanted to make things better. But what was it people said about good intentions?

The door creaked and Tobias winced even as he stiffened, his torso curling protectively over the sleeping NCIS agent.

It shut with a quiet snap and then Gibbs stepped into the light, grocery bags draped over his arm.

The man started and his brow furrowed as he looked at the two on his couch.

"Fornell?"

Tobias put a finger to his lips and carefully eased himself out from under Tony.

Gibbs gathered his mouth to the side and then headed into the kitchen, trusting the agent to follow.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he began to stack groceries in the fridge.

Tobias shrugged and leaned against the wall.

"Checking on the kid. Haven't seen him in a few days. Getting ready to go to California, didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

Gibbs turned slowly, fear obvious on his face in a way Tobias had never seen before. "You're leaving?"

"Just for a bit. Heading out as a consult for the LA branch. Shouldn't be gone more than a week."

Gibbs' lips flattened into a thin frown. "Oh."

"Everything all right?"

Gibbs looked away for a moment, his hands opening and closing. "Yeah. Everything's great."

Tobias nodded understandingly. "I'm sure. Look Gibbs…Jethro." He waited until the harsh blue eyes were level with his own. "You don't have to be scared. Tony wants you to remember. He wants to help. He doesn't know what he's doing anymore than you do. It's okay."

Gibbs opened his mouth, his face sharp and angry, but in an instant, the outrage drained away and he let his weight lean on the kitchen counter.

"I don't want to hurt him Tobias, what if I can't remember? What if I never find what I'm missing?"

Tobias shrugged and pushed himself off the wall. He approached Gibbs slowly and put his hands on his shoulder.

"What if you do? Talk to him Gibbs. Stop hiding. Stop running. Just talk to him."

"But-"

"Gibbs. If you don't know anything else, know this. That man in there was your best friend. Before Mike, Ducky and me, he was your first choice. The first one you turned to. If you can't grab hold of anything else, take this, he hasn't changed. Not where it counts. Keep your eyes open. He'll surprise you."

xxx

Director Shepherd stood before the board, his hands tight against her side.

Their voices were a quiet murmur, debating her fate. That FBI agent who had been sniffing around DiNozzo had reported her for misconduct and now her job, her very future in law enforcement was being decided.

She clenched her fingers.

Damn him.

Agent Fornell for sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Gibbs for coming back and getting himself in the middle of the situation.

DiNozzo for not doing what he was told.

Damn them all.

"Ms. Shepherd?"

She straightened. "Director Shepherd." She corrected automatically.

"I'm afraid not Ms. Shepherd."

Damn them all.

xxx

Just talk to him.

Talk to him.

Just.

Just talk.

Gibbs slammed his head against the closet door. It shouldn't be that hard.

Talking.

Point A to point B.

Why couldn't he get this?

He took another swig of the bourbon and spun around, watching as the room twirled marvelously in the bright sunshine.

He should have stayed in Mexico.

It was so damn easy in Mexico. Just Mike and bourbon. No pressures, no responsibility, no talking.

He took another drink and felt the heat wash down his throat.

This was all DiNozzo's fault.

DiNozzo.

Gibbs huffed and stumbled from the room.

He didn't understand it. He could remember leading the team. Could remember moments and feeling and roles.

But not the people.

And it was the people, bizarrely enough, that he wanted.

Gibbs staggered down the stairs and spotted Tony sleeping on the couch, the warm afternoon sun coating the hardwood floors and a blanket pooled at his feet.

"Hey!" he yelled.

Tony stirred but didn't wake up, his head still groggy from the medication Tobias had forced on him before he left.

Gibbs frowned and poked Tony hard in the shoulder. "Hey! DiNozzo!"

Tony started and tried to open his eyes, confusion and exhaustion warring for control.

"This is all your damn fault!"

Tony could smell the liquor, he could feel the looming presence of someone standing over him while he was flat on his back and the words were echoing in his ear.

Your fault. It's your fault. Your fault.

Tony flinched backwards. Hard. His hands flung up to protect his head and his body curled inwards, ignoring the pained protests of his legs.

Gibbs froze. Tony was shaking on the sofa, his face hidden from view and

quiet little gasps of air whistling through his lips.

"Tony?"

The young man's breathing hitched but he made no sound.

"Tony... you okay?" Gibbs asked, just as confused. He wasn't mad anymore. He didn't remember why he was mad in the first place. And Tony was… afraid? Did he scare Tony?

Gibbs dropped to his knees and poked Tony again, this time infinitely more gently, if not more clumsy.

"Tony?"

The man shuddered and slowly uncurled. "Gibbs. What the actual hell is wrong with you?"

His face twisted. "I don't know." He dropped his head on the couch next toTony's hip and draped an arm over the other man's waist.

He was confused.

He was tired.

He didn't know.

Tony hesitated and then slowly placed his hand on the back of Gibbs' neck.

"Okay. It's okay. It's all going to be... worked out. Talk to me."

Talk to him. Gibbs snuffed, suddenly finding his nose full of goo. He wanted to talk. For once in his life he wanted to talk. But damn it all if he didn't know what he wanted to talk about.

"Why were you scared?"

Tony didn't answer for a long moment and then he murmured so quietly that Gibbs had to strain to hear him. "You reminded me of someone."

"Oh." He could understand that. He was bothered by things he remembered all the time. "Tobias said I should talk to you."

Tony smiled to himself. Of course he did.

"Is this your version of talking? Getting smashed at two in the afternoon?"

Gibbs shrugged and looked up at Tony. His face was still pale in the bright sunshine and Gibbs couldn't tell if it was the fright or the sick.

"I don't know. Is it?" He asked with genuine curiosity.

Tony's lips twitched. "Sometimes. I'd like to think you would talk to me the normal way though."

"Did we talk a lot? Before I forgot?"

Tony's eyes grew distant. "Yes. All the time. Even when we weren't speaking, we were talking."

Gibbs blinked, trying to make sense of that. "I thought I was a... what did you call it? Functional Mute?"

Tony's smile spiked. He remembered.

"Yeah."

"And you were my loyal St. Bernard."

Tony let out of breath of amused air. "That's me."

Gibbs nodded, "I must have really liked you."

Tony's eyes were wet but his voice was level when he said, "You did."

"You liked me?"

Tony smile changed into a warm, fond grin, he felt slightly like he was having a conversation with a fourth grader.

"Yeah Jethro. I liked you too."

"Good. I miss you. But I don't know how not to. How to fix it."

"We'll figure it out, Gibbs. I miss you too."

Gibbs sighed in contentment. Then his face scrunched together. "Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to throw up."

Tony stared for half a second then moved with a speed that a disconnected part of Gibbs' brain disagreed with.

Tony hobbled forward, pulling Gibbs up and letting the man lean on him as they made their way to the rest-room.

"Thank you for not throwing up on me." He muttered as he tried his best to keep Gibbs from tumbling into the toilet.

Once he was finished, Gibbs leaned back, taking comfort in the presence of Tony.

"I'm not going to remember this later, am I?" He slurred.

Tony sighed quietly. "I would imagine not."

Gibbs started laughing. "That's ironic. Because you don't remember telling me you miss me and I won't remember any of this."

"What?"

Gibbs kept laughing and worked on getting himself to his feet and moving back to the living room.

"Pain pills don't like you." He said as if it explained everything.

Tony frowned at him but didn't say anything. Together they slowly made their way back into the other room.

"Hey Tony?"

"Yeah Gibbs?"

"I still like you."

Tony closed his eyes and whispered. "I still like you too."

Gibbs smiled and let himself fall on the sofa, pulling Tony down with him. He felt the soft warmth of him and hummed contentedly.

And somewhere, distantly, he thought he heard someone crying.