This is it, folks. Tony finds out the truth. I hope I did this alright. The initial moment when he remembers is very emotional, but I'm not the sort of writer who wants him to be down for long. Tony will bounce back. But, like I said before, he will be a different Tony.

I do have another part all ready to go, but I'll save that one for some time tomorrow. I can't believe how fast this is all coming out of me. I pray that this story does not do what others have to me and decide to quit. For now, the muse is working overtime, and has even given me another idea….but, I'll save that for another time. For now, read on my minions, read on.

____________________________________________________________________________________

"Gibbs…my Boss…he seriously went cow tipping?" Tony looked up at Jack as he told of his son's misadventure on Harold MacDonald's dairy farm.

"He sure as heck did! His mother, you should have seen her face when she found out. Mad as an old wet hen."

Tony chuckled. "Gibbs must have gotten his temper from her."

"Sure did." Gibbs came into the room and stood at the end of the bed. "She could scare the living daylights out of you with just a look."

"I always knew you must have been a mama's boy, Boss."

Gibbs gave him a lower wattage version of his famous glare before turning to his father. "Dad. You mind leaving us alone for a while. DiNozzo and I have some things to talk about."

"Now you go easy on him, son. Boy's still hurt." Jackson said, standing up.

"Can't promise you easy, Dad."

Jack ruffled Tony's hair with affection. "I'll be back soon. Have to get Leroy's place all set up for you when you get out of here. He is coming to your house, isn't he?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"I don't…"

"No arguments, DiNozzo."

Jack chuckled. "Just like his ma, he is."

When his father had left, Gibbs took the chair, pulling it closer to the bed so he would be able to reach Tony faster in case he became agitated. He didn't want Tony to cause himself any further injury, and he would be damned if anyone on the hospital staff would try to restrain him again.

Lord, he hated himself for what he was about to do. Perhaps he should change the second b in his name into a capitol letter.

"So, my Dad tell you any other embarrassing stories?"

"You mean today? No, just that one about you and ol' MacDonald's farm. Did you really name it operation 'Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moomoo'? Cause I've got to hand it to you, Boss, that's classic. I have a whole new respect for you."

"What do you mean by 'today'?" He leaned back, arms folded.

"Well, this wasn't the first time Jack and I have had a conversation, you know. For the record I thought the one about you and Terry Linson in the tree house playing Doctor was pretty good."

"I was the patient." Gibbs smirked. "She gave me a bottle filled with SweetTarts as a prescription and told me to call her in the morning."

"Did you?"

"I was 10 DiNozzo."

"Still, that was slick, Boss."

"Tony." He said, leaning forward and laying his hand on top of his agents. The man he viewed as a son. This was absolutely killing him.

"Not you too." Tony sighed.

"What?"

"Never mind. Just get it over with, okay. Doc's got me on some happy juice, so I promise I won't freak out like I did before. What did Fornell want?"

Gibbs fingered the folder in his hands. "He wants you to take a look at a couple of photographs. See if they might be the ones who attacked you."

"Oh. Boss, I really don't remember."

"I know you don't. But Fornell thought maybe seeing them again would bring it back."

"I'll try." Tony said.

Gibbs removed one photo and handed it to him. Tony stared into the plain brown eyes of an average looking guy with black hair. Nothing very distinguishing about him except for a slight bump on the bridge of his nose, as if it had been broken at one time. He looked like any guy Tony had ever seen, except…there was something in his eyes. Something that made Tony's stomach feel nauseous.

"I think…" Tony creased his forehead in concentration. He'd seen those eyes before. Where?

He let his lids drift closed, looking into his own mind, letting the memories come to him. The bright sunny day. He had wanted to run, to enjoy the calm weather while he could. He always kept a bag with a change of clothes in his car, so he would shower and change at work. He planed on grabbing a coffee and bagel on the way.

The scene played in his mind like one of the movies he was so fond of. The pretty girls in their tight shorts, the mothers' pushing baby strollers, a dog jumping to catch a Frisbee in mid air. He had gone 5 miles before deciding to stop. It was getting late already. He went to his car and…

His eyes flew open, meeting the cold ones in the photo. He gasped. "Gibbs!"

"What is it, Tony? Do you recognize him?"

"Yeah," He nodded. "He came up to me at my car, asking for directions to…too, uh…Arlington Cemetery. That was it! Said his wife wanted to see JFK's grave."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Yes, I'm sure. This is him. Who is he?"

"His name is Wesley Milson. He's a convicted felon. Been in jail for armed robbery."

"Wes." Tony said in a soft voice. "The other guy called him Wes."

"Tony?"

"There was…" He shook his head. "I…there was a van."

"Yes. There was. There was someone else driving the van. Did you see him?"

"No. Not really. He…" Tony pointed at the picture. "I think he called him Lenny."

Now Gibbs knew. Leonard Olinski was the accomplice. Busted, you basterds.

The next part was going to be very hard for him and Tony both. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to hurt Tony any further, but knew it was necessary if they were going to put those assholes away for good. Or if Gibbs had his way, bury then.

"Do you remember what happened after he approached you?"

"I thought he looked harmless. God, what a joke, huh? I must be loosing my touch, Boss."

"You haven't lost a thing. Keep going, Tony. You're doing good."

Tony closed his eyes again. It was easier to visualize that day with nothing but the scene in his own mind before him. It was all coming back. Rapidly. "I told him how to get there. I thought he was turning to leave. I turned my back on him, Boss. How could I be so stupid?"

"You didn't know, Tony. You had no way of knowing. It's okay. It's just a memory, it can't hurt you. Go on."

Tony felt Gibbs's hand tighten around his, could feel the tension coming off of his Boss in waves. "He grabbed me. Oh god. I tried too yell, but he put a hand over my mouth. I… couldn't stop it. It happened so fast. He pulled me into the van. I'm so sorry, Dad. I'm sorry."

Gibbs grabbed Tony's chin, forcing him to look at the one person he trusted implicitly. Gibbs would never hurt him. Not ever. It was the one real faith he had.

"You listen to me. You have nothing to be sorry for. You know how I feel about apologies. You did nothing wrong. Got that? Nothing."

"Yeah. Got it."

"Okay. I know this is hard, Tony, but you have to keep going."

Tony shook his head, tears forming in his wide eyes as he stared at Gibbs. The hand clenched in his Boss's began to shake. "Can't." He gasped out.

"Oh god. DiNozzo. You know if I could change this, I would. Don't you?" The slight nod of Tony's head told him that he did. "But I can't. I can't change what's already happened. I can only be here for you now. I'm here, Tony. Talk to me."

A tear fell from Tony's eyes. Followed by another. Gibbs felt his heart shatter. This was his agent. His Tony. His boy. This man gave him joy, pride, and more then a bit of frustration, but he wouldn't give it up for anything. If he could put himself in that bed in Tony's place, he would do it in a heartbeat. He'd already been through hell. It was not a new place for him. He wished beyond anything he could save Tony from having to face it.

"I fought. I really did. I tried so hard. I know I hit him, he cried out, and he kicked me. He kicked me in the head."

Gibbs looked at the bandage on Tony's temple. He damned Wesley Milson to the pits of hell for that.

"Do you know what they wanted with you?" His voice cracked when he asked the question.

"I knew…I knew right away. He kept saying things. He… touch…touched…oh, damn." Tony drew in a shuddering breath. "He tied me up, gagged me. He must have hit me again, because I didn't remember anymore until I woke up in the warehouse." Tony's hand folded around the picture, crushing it. "I tried to get away, but I was already feeling so bad from the head wound. The other guy…Lenny…told him to drug me. Roofies?" He questioned Gibbs, who nodded. "It gets fuzzy after that, but I… I remember saying no. Telling them too stop. Begging. Dad. I begged. They laughed at me."

He could feel that his face was completely wet now. Shit, he felt so weak. So useless. He felt like nothing. What made it all worse was that Gibbs had to witness all of it. His Boss wouldn't want him anymore. Why would he? What use could Tony be to him now?

"Why?" He asked. "Why?"

"I don't know, Tony. But we are going to catch them."

"You don't have them yet?"

"We will. I promise you. We know who they are now."

"What if…what if they come back?"

"They won't get near you. You won't be alone until both of them are either dead, or in jail."

Tony looked away, no longer able to look at his Boss's face, not wanted Gibbs to see his anymore. "Boss, could you leave me alone? I want…I want to be alone right now."

"If that's what you want. I'll be right outside, okay?"

He hadn't closed the door before he could hear Tony's gut wrenching sobs. He leaned against the door, feeling physically and emotionally drained. As god was his witness…if he even believed in a god…he had no idea what to do now.

"Jethro."

Fornell was beside him. Gibbs silently handed him the folder. "It's them. DiNozzo ID'd Milson. Said his partner's name was Lenny."

"Lenny." Fornell repeated. "Leonard Olinski. I'm sorry Jethro. I wish it could have been any other way."

"I need air." He pushed away from the door. "You are not to dare go in there, Fornell. I won't have him traumatized further."

He didn't bother to stay to hear Fornell's reply. He headed for the nearest exit and out the door into the bright afternoon sun. He breathed deeply of the crisp, autumn air.

He had to do something. He had to help Tony somehow. Grabbing his phone, he flipped through the numbers until he found the one he needed. He paced up and down the sidewalk while it rang in his ear.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end answered.

"It's Gibbs." He said. "I need a favor."