Special thanks to my beta, Gotgoats for all your help with this chapter! You rock dude!

Blank Slate
Chapter 12

Tony let out an annoyed groan and pitched the magazine across the room, listening as it hit the wall with a satisfying smack. His fingers locked around the Ohio State blanket that was draped over his legs and he looked at his lap, breaths heaving in frustration. He stared at the blue and black plaid cotton pajama pants he wore, and the blue slipper socks that covered his feet. He felt like a child. Everything was so frustrating—so overwhelming. He felt like everyone was on eggshells around him. They were careful not to talk too much, not to tell too much, not to ask questions, not to say anything that might cause him to remember that he didn't remember anything. Add to that the residual throbbing that had taken up seemingly permanent residence at the back of his head and Tony was in a spectacularly foul mood.

The door opened and Gibbs poked his head in. "Everything ok?" he asked, seeing the discarded magazine on the floor.

Tony crossed his arms. "Fine," he mumbled, looking at the window.

It'd been a week since Tony finally regained consciousness after the explosion that put him in a coma. In that time Tony had made some good progress in his recovery. He was able to stay awake for longer periods of time now, and the concussion was fading. The scans and tests on his brain were giving positive readings and it was clear that, at least physically, Tony was recovering.

Gibbs could tell that something was bothering his partner. Tony had been intensely private ever since he woke up. The once very chatty young man was now steeped in silence more often than not. He spent hours sitting in the comfortable chair in his hospital room (he'd moved out of the ICU two days after waking up, and out of the step-down unit two days after that) staring out the window, or down the hall in the lobby looking out the windows there. A counselor stopped by everyday and encouraged Tony to write or sketch anything that came to his mind. He instructed Tony to show it to Gibbs or someone he knew to see if they'd recognize any memories that might be surfacing.

Tony didn't want to talk, though. He didn't want to talk about the things that were swirling in his mind. He didn't want to talk about all of the missing pieces and questions he had about the flashes and images that drifted through his spotty memory. What he really wanted, was to be able to talk to someone that he knew. Someone who knew him. Someone that could tell him what the hell happened to the last ten years—because the flashes he was getting behind his eyes were disturbing at best and nightmarish at worst.

Gibbs was just returning from his daily trip out of the hospital. Ducky and Jimmy had ganged up on him along about Day Number Three and were firm in their decree that he take a break and leave the hospital every day. He reluctantly agreed, and each day he went home, checked his mail, took a shower, sanded on his boat for a half hour, and ate something that wasn't hospital food while drinking real coffee. He'd taken to sneaking something in for Tony each day. The younger man was feeling better physically, and to be honest, Gibbs wasn't sure why they hadn't released him from the hospital yet. He still slept a good bit though, and he tired easily, but his head injuries were healing nicely. The only thing that really didn't seem to be improving was his memory. It was more concerning to Gibbs that Tony wasn't talking about it. He was being uncharacteristically quiet about…everything.

Gibbs knew from experience that keeping all of that bottled up was never a good thing. Because eventually, it all came out.

Closing the door behind him, Gibbs stepped over to the bed. Tony was laying on top of the hospital blankets but his lap was covered by his beloved but unrecognized blanket from college. He seemed frustrated, but had already made it clear he wasn't ready to tell anybody what was in his head. Gibbs stopped next to the bed and held out a wax paper bag.

Tony cut his eyes up at Gibbs and his gaze caught the bag with mild interest. "What's that?" he asked quietly.

Gibbs shook the bag a couple of times in his direction. "Could open it and see for yourself," he offered. "I got it for you."

"Really?" Tony's eyes lit up slightly. "For me?" He took the bag from Gibbs and unfolded the top. "Ohhhh," he smiled—the first smile Gibbs had seen all day. "You got me a jelly donut!" he exclaimed happily. He pulled it out of the bag and took a bite of it. He groaned in pleasure and chewed contentedly on the pastry. "It's my favorite!" he gushed. "You got my favorite! How did you know?" he asked innocently.

Gibbs sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. "I've had a few years to figure it out," he said softly with a smile.

"Oh," Tony set the donut down on the rollaway table and looked mildly ill. "Right. I forgot. Again. Sorry." He looked at his lap.

"Hey," Gibbs tapped him under the chin. When he raised his gaze Gibbs smiled. "It's alright Tony. You don't have to apologize."

"I just feel so…" Tony trailed off. He picked listlessly at the glaze on his donut.

"So what?" Gibbs pressed carefully, wanting to encourage Tony to talk without making him feel smothered.

Tony shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "Dumb?"

"Don't feel dumb Tony," Gibbs said, scooting a little closer. "It's hard, going through what you're going through. It sucks. Colossally sucks. It's really frustrating. It's—"

"Can we talk about something else?" Tony's gaze dropped back to his lap. "Actually, I'm tired. I think I wanna go to sleep."

Gibbs frowned. "You do know you can talk to me, right?"

Tony looked at Gibbs for a long moment. "I don't know anything," he said noncommittally. He laid down on the bed then, and rolled so that he was facing away from Gibbs and he stared at the wall.

Gibbs watched sadly as Tony squeezed his eyes shut. He knew there was nothing he could say to make him feel better. He wanted so badly to make it right, to fix the world for his partner and to help everything go back to normal. But he couldn't. And Tony didn't remember their relationship…so he couldn't rely on their physical connection to explain it or fix it.

Or could he?

Gibbs shifted so he was sitting with his back against the headboard beside Tony. He glanced down and started combing his fingers lightly through Tony's hair. "I wish I could give you all of your memories back," he said regretfully after a long minute. "I'd love to make this better for you. I just don't know how."

To his surprise, after a couple of minutes, Tony rolled over so that he faced Gibbs. He buried his face in the side of Gibbs' hip and didn't look at him, but seemed content to be close.

Gibbs smiled and continued combing his fingers lightly through his hair and rubbing his shoulders and upper back with firm strokes.

Tony didn't understand why he felt so comfortable with Gibbs. He didn't know why the way the older man smelled triggered some sort of physical response in him. It was really beginning to bother Tony. Why couldn't he remember his relationship with this man? What relationship did they have? He was quite certain by this point that there was a relationship of some variety—there had to be if he felt this comfortable being close to a person who, on the surface, appeared to only be his supervisor. Gibbs had stayed with him almost constantly. Ever since he'd regained consciousness Gibbs was by his side. The older man left every day, but never for long, and he got the sense that it was only because the other two men made him do it. At first someone always stayed with Tony. Either Palmer, who Tony also felt was a familiar person to him, Ducky, the old doctor that Tony had no memory of. A nice lady named Jackie stayed one day, but Tony didn't want to talk to her. He felt like she would stir too much emotion within him, so he'd kept his mouth shut and maintained a distance. After that, Tim stayed one day, but then Tony put his foot down. He didn't need babysat. He was an adult. He might not remember…much of anything…but dammit he was an adult, and he'd been on his own for as long as he could remember—no pun intended. He was fine. He didn't need people.

Tony DiNozzo was an island.

They stayed on the bed like that for a long time. Gibbs was content for anything resembling closeness between them, and Tony seemed comfortable enough there with him. Neither of them moved for a long time, and Gibbs began to wonder if Tony had drifted off to sleep. He didn't want to move to look though, because he didn't want to disturb the peaceful moment.

The door clicked open and Jackie Vance poked her head in. "Hello," she called softly.

"Hey Jackie," Gibbs said. "C'mon in."

"How's Tony?" she asked, setting her purse on the small couch near the window. She turned around and frowned before stepping back to the door. "LEON!" she hissed. "Get in here!"

Gibbs didn't stop his gentle ministrations, and he felt the moment Tony woke up. He must have dozed off, because suddenly he tensed. Not a lot, not so much that you could see, but enough that Gibbs, while touching Tony, noticed. He maintained his soothing touching and didn't react to the change in Tony's muscle tone.

Director Leon Vance slowly stepped into the hospital room, toothpick firmly inserted between his teeth. His eyes widened when he saw the way Tony was curled into Gibbs' lap and he let out a barely audible, yet pained "awww" sound before looking desperately at Jackie. He was supportive of his two agents, let them continue on the same team despite the potential for disaster that it created, and didn't say a word. But this…to see it played out in such an…intimate, physical way…Vance wasn't ready for all of that yet.

Jackie narrowed her eyes at him and crossed his arms. Vance took a deep breath and turned back to Gibbs. "Jethro," he greeted.

"Director," Gibbs replied evenly. "What brings you by?"

"I came to check on Agent DiNozzo's recovery," he said, all business in his tone. "I wasn't prepared for such uh…public displays of affection, though."

Beneath Gibbs' fingers, Tony tensed even more. Gibbs' eyes narrowed. He and Tony hadn't talked about the nature of their relationship outside of work yet. Gibbs was hoping Tony would remember it on his own. "No public displays of affection here," he said sweetly. "Tony and I were talking and he decided he wanted to rest some. He was feeling a bit nervous, so I was helping him stay calm. There's nothing to get your shorts in a twist over."

Vance nearly bit his toothpick in half. He was shocked by the obvious comfort that existed between the two of them—even if one couldn't remember it. The way they were on the bed…how many times had he sat with his beloved Jackie in that exact position? If she was in the hospital, wouldn't he surely be by her side every moment of the day? Gibbs looked like he hadn't had a decent sleep in a month, which, if you did the math, that was probably not too far off. He glanced again at Jackie, who was still watching him. "Uh…sorry about that," he said to Gibbs. "I just um…I mean I know you and Agent DiNozzo have been…forthcoming about the nature of your relationship, but you are both so professional, that this is the first time I've actually seen it. I um…I have no problem with it. Just was surprising, is all."

Gibbs nodded, accepting Vance's words as the olive branch he intended them to be. Vance obviously wasn't here to pick a fight. He was here to check on his agents—just like he said. "Tony and I…we've not talked about…that…yet," Gibbs said. "Hasn't seemed right, ya know?"

"I think you may want to explain it to him before he figures it out some other way," Jackie advised gently, watching Tony carefully. She'd spent enough time watching him sleep over the past week…she was almost positive that he was awake…a glance at Jethro told her that he was thinking the same thing.

Jackie and Leon didn't stay long. Tony didn't appear to wake up, and no one was in a hurry to disturb his rest. Gibbs quietly explained that Tony would likely be released soon, with hopes that going home would help his memory to return quicker. "It'll do him good to get back to familiar surroundings, I think," Gibbs said.

"Did it help you get your memory back?" Jackie asked.

Gibbs lowered his gaze and was still and quiet for a long moment. "No," he finally answered, shaking his head. "Made it worse. Was like losing my girls all over again. It was horrible."

"I hope that won't be the case for Tony," Jackie said. Vance didn't say anything, merely chewed on his toothpick and stared out the window. "We should go," Jackie continued.

Gibbs smiled silently. He hadn't moved from his spot on Tony's bed for the entire visit, touching the younger man lightly, soothing him with the gentle reminder of his presence throughout the Vances' visit.

"Jethro we'll be in touch regarding when you and Agent DiNozzo are thinking of returning to work," Vance said. "There's no rush, but we'll talk soon."

"Sounds good," Gibbs nodded.

After Jackie and Leon left, Gibbs leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. His fingers still played through Tony's hair and he wondered if Tony was awake. He knew that for at least a short time earlier, while Jackie and Leon were here, that he'd woken up some, but he'd never moved and he hadn't raised up, so Gibbs wasn't sure how much Tony had actually heard, or if he'd heard any of their conversation.

Out of nowhere, Tony shot up on the bed. Gibbs stood up, giving Tony the room he needed to keep him from toppling off of the bed. Sadly the television often lied—another crack on the head likely would not help his memory. Gibbs eased back down on the foot of the bed, facing Tony and eyeing him carefully. He looked…deeply, deeply troubled.

"Tony?" he asked gently. "You ok Tony?"

Tony ran a hand up and down his arm absently and looked out the window. There were clouds brewing in the sky and it looked quite a bit like it might storm. "Sure," he murmured. "'m fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Gibbs could see that Tony's entire body was tense. "Did you dream something?"

"I dream lots of things," Tony shrugged slightly. He picked at a scab on his arm. "I'm fine. It's fine."

"Jackie and Leon came by. Do you remember Jackie?"

"She's the lady…the one who comes to visit some," Tony said. "With the brown skin and the nice clothes. Right?"

Gibbs nodded. "That's right. Leon is her husband. He is also the Director of NCIS. Our boss."

"Oh," Tony said. "I um…I don't remember him," he shook his head despondently. He was trying desperately to make sense of what was whirling in his head. He'd only heard bits and pieces of the conversation Gibbs had with their visitors, but what he heard didn't make any sense. The guy, Leon, had some kind of issue with the relationship that he and Gibbs had. Gibbs obviously knew something about their relationship that Tony hadn't been made privy to. What was their relationship? Why couldn't he just remember it? He wanted to remember it.

Gibbs wanted to help. But Dr. Granger had been extremely clear when he told Gibbs that he couldn't offer up any memories for Tony. He needed to give it some time, allow his brain to heal, and give his memory the opportunity to come back on its own. If Tony asked questions, Gibbs could answer them, but as of this moment, Tony's questions had been painfully few and far between. The older man wracked his brain. There had to be something he could do.

"Gibbs?" Tony whispered. He didn't take his gaze off of the window. "The guy…Lance? The one who was just here?"

"Vance," Gibbs corrected gently. "What about him?"

"Vance. Leon Vance," Tony said firmly, quietly to himself. "I…He said something…while he was here."

Gibbs was mildly surprised that Tony was admitting to being awake. "Ok," Gibbs said.

"And…I don't understand…what he meant…I mean I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but I woke up because everyone was talking…I just…I didn't want to…" he dropped his head and his face belied his broken heartedness. "I didn't want to show everyone again that I didn't know anyone," he said softly. He sounded disgusted with himself.

Gibbs reached out and put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I get that," he encouraged. "I understand that. Do you need some clarification on something you heard?"

Tony nodded. "Do you mind?" he asked.

"I don't mind at all. Lay it on me."

"What did Lan—Vance mean when he said that you and I are so professional about our relationship that he'd never seen the nature of it before now?" Tony asked, venturing a cautious glance in Gibbs' direction. He didn't miss the flash of pain that seared through Gibbs' icy blue eyes.

"He…" Gibbs tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, wondering how to word his answer. This could make or break his entire…life. "He was referring to the fact, that um…you and I are partners Tony. We're partners at work, which you already knew. But we're also…"

"Partners somewhere else?" Tony asked.

Gibbs nodded. "We're partners at home too. We've been together for almost three years."

Tony blinked. "What do you mean, partners at home? Like roommates?"

"We do live together," Gibbs said. "But…not like roommates. Not exactly."

"Then what? Just tell me!"

"We're…lovers," Gibbs puffed out. He looked over at Tony and took his hand, holding it gently in his. "We're lovers. We've been in a relationship with each other for the past three years."

Tony stared at their joined hands. Gibbs' hand was slightly larger than his, and his fingers had rough calluses on them. Their hands seemed to…fit…somehow. It was comfortable. Was he used to holding hands with Gibbs? Did they do this a lot? A whole slew of questions filled him then. How did they divide up roles? Who did the cooking? The cleaning? Did they do their laundry together or separately? Did they have sex? Did they sleep in the same bed? If they had sex who…who was on top? He swallowed thickly, feeling the questions begin to overwhelm him.

"Tony?" Gibbs spoke quietly, and his thumb stroked over the back of Tony's hand. "You with me?"

"I'm ok," Tony whispered. "I um…Gibbs…I don't…I don't remember," he raised his free hand to his forehead. "I want to remember. I'm…I'm sorry. I don't remember Gibbs."

"Hey," Gibbs scooted closer. "Hey look at me," his voice was so gentle. He reached a hand up and Tony tensed when he got close, but Gibbs slowly completed the motion, cupping Tony's jaw and smiling at him. "It's ok," he said. "I don't expect you to remember everything all at once. I'm not going to pressure you to act like nothing's changed. I get it Tony. My feelings for you haven't changed. But I understand if you're not there yet. It's alright."

Tony sat perfectly still, soaking in the feel of Gibbs touching his face, and the kind words he spoke. He didn't see how this could possibly work if he couldn't remember it… "I want to remember it Gibbs," Tony said hoarsely. He looked Gibbs right in the eyes, and all he saw was love. Love for him. He didn't know that he remembered ever really truly seeing that before. "But…I don't even know you," Tony said. "I don't know anything about you!"

"What's your gut say?" Gibbs asked.

Tony stared at Gibbs like he'd grown another head. "My gut." His voice sounded so deadpan.

Gibbs nodded. "Yes. Your gut. What's it tell you?"

"I have no idea," Tony scoffed.

"Then listen to it!" Gibbs said firmly. "It won't ever lie to you."

"It says…" Tony thought about it. How do you listen to your gut? "It says that I'm safe with you," he murmured.

Gibbs smiled and patted Tony's cheek. "You are always safe with me," he said. "I promise you that. You are always safe with me."

Tony looked around, an expression of helpless desperation filling his features. "I wanna go home," he whispered. "I don't even know where that is, but I don't…I hate being in the hospital."

"Doc talked like you'd be able to go home in a day or so," Gibbs said. "Once that happens we'll get ya home. Maybe your memory will start coming back when you get home."

Tony nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "I hope so."

TBC…