CHAPTER 3

Missing Pieces

There's a time that I remember when I never felt so lost…
~ Memories lyrics by Maroon 5

He stood in the entry, dripping all over the rug, unsure what he was supposed to do. Gibbs took his travel bag out of his hand and set it aside. He was asking questions, but Tony felt so out of it he couldn't take in the meaning of anything that was being said.

"I'm c-c-cold," was all Tony could get out.

"You're freezing. Let's get you into a hot shower," Gibbs said, still with that worried expression. "Are you hurt? Vance called, told me what happened."

"I don't think so," Tony replied absently.

"Where've you been? McGee's been checking out the flights."

Tony's eyes wandered towards Gibbs' living room. An older man using a cane slowly approached. "Jethro was worried," he said, and that's when Tony recognized him as Jackson Gibbs.

"Jack, what're you d-d-doing here?" Tony asked, his teeth chattering. He looked to Gibbs for an answer and that's when he realized that something was wrong. "What?"

Gibbs exchanged looks with his father, and Jackson said, "I'll rustle up some hot soup for when you come back down. You two can talk then."

"Talk 'bout what?" Tony mumbled.

"C'mon, upstairs," Gibbs said firmly.

With Gibbs supporting him, Tony made his way up what seemed like a very long and steep flight of stairs and into the bathroom. He tried to unbutton his shirt but his fingers were trembling. "Boss?"

Gibbs took over, stripping him out of his sodden clothes. "What happened to you? You said you weren't injured," he accused.

Tony glanced at the bandage on his upper arm and shrugged. He didn't have the energy to explain the whole thing.

Gibbs found scissors and carefully removed the damp gauze, wincing in sympathy at the jagged wound. He quickly checked Tony for other injuries and asked, "You hit your head?"

"What?"

"There's blood in your hair."

Tony slowly raised his hand to touch the back of his head. He flinched. It was tender. "Oh, yeah. I fell backwards, bounced a bit."

"And the bruises? Your wrists?" Gibbs asked, looking furious. "Who did this to you?"

Tony looked down at his body, seeing the bruises adorning his ribs and the raw red marks on his wrists. He'd been tied up; he could see that for himself. Shaking his head, he said quietly, "I don't know. I… I'm sorry." He shivered and wrapped his arms around his chest.

Gibbs smiled reassuringly. "Let's get you in the shower, okay? Questions can wait." After adjusting the water until the temperature was just right, he watched Tony step over the edge of the old-fashioned tub. "You okay?"

Tony nodded. He was too tired and hurting to care that he was standing naked in front of his boss. God, the hot water felt so good. Groaning, he leaned against the tiled wall, wishing for strong coffee and some pain pills. He thought about washing himself, but it seemed like too much of an effort.

"Let me help," Gibbs said. He soaped up a washcloth and gently washed Tony from his neck to his waist, and then his arms, being careful of his injuries. When he was done Gibbs said, "You do the rest and I'll help you out when you're done."

Tony nodded and did as he was told. He didn't stay under the hot stream for long. He felt wobbly, and his arm and his head were really hurting now. Gibbs was standing at the ready, a large towel in his hands. He took care of Tony, gently drying him off, walking him naked into the master bedroom and sitting him on the bed while he pulled out clothes for him to wear. He did it all silently, not pestering Tony with questions, and once he was dressed in boxers, sweatpants, socks and slippers, all borrowed, Gibbs took his elbow and helped him to walk downstairs.

The curtains were drawn in the living room, and Jack was bending over the fireplace, encouraging the flames to take hold of a new log. He looked up and smiled at Tony. "This should warm you up. I'll fetch you some soup."

"Where's my shirt? I need a shirt," Tony complained. He felt exposed and didn't like it.

Gibbs told him to sit on the couch and leaned over to look into his eyes. "Let's get the arm taken care of first. You dizzy? Seeing double?"

"You mean you don't have a twin brother?" Tony asked with a small smile.

"He sounds okay to me," Jackson said as he placed a steaming mug of tomato soup on the coffee table, and took a seat.

"Yeah, except his eyes don't look right." Before Tony could ask what that meant, Gibbs fetched his first-aid kit, the big one he kept for serious injuries. "Who shot you?" he asked, putting on his glasses and taking a good look at Tony's arm.

It was an ugly gouge, but it had long-since stopped bleeding. Tony thought back to the ambush in the plaza, bullets flying, Mike Franks taking shots at Alejandro and the shooters in the car mowing down anyone in their way. "Some men in a car were shooting the place up, Alejandro Rivera's men. Boss, Franks was there. Did I tell you that already?"

"You did, on the phone," Gibbs replied.

Tony blinked a few times and said in a quiet voice, "I'm not… in Mexico." The second those words were out of his mouth, he felt like an idiot. He knew where he was only he couldn't figure out how he'd been in one place one second, and in another a second later.

It was Jack who replied, "No, you're in Washington, DC, son." After a pause, he added, "You're safe now."

Tony caught the way Gibbs traded looks with his father. "What's going on? Something happened?"

As Gibbs applied antiseptic and bandaged Tony's arm, he said, "McGee went to the airport to pick you up. You weren't on the flight. You tell me what happened."

Tony thought back. "Didn't I get a flight to Houston?"

"Apparently not," Gibbs replied. "He checked every flight out of Mérida and any nearby airports, but you weren't booked on any of them."

"I changed planes?"

"He checked that, too. There's no record you got back here on any commercial flight. Not on a military one, either," Gibbs said with a frown.

Swallowing, Tony asked, "Then how'd I… get here?"

"You don't remember?" Jackson asked.

Tony slowly shook his head as it sunk in that he'd lost a large chunk of time somewhere between the airport in Mérida and Gibbs' house.

"McGee and Ziva are working on it. We'll find out where you've been and who did this to you, Tony." After taping the ends of the bandage securely, Gibbs helped him don a T-shirt and then eased on a zip-up hoodie. He was careful, but Tony sucked in a sharp breath when he had to raise his arm. Meanwhile, Jack fashioned a sling, and once that was on, Tony relaxed. The mug of hot soup was pushed into his right hand, and he drank half of it right away. He hadn't realized he was so hungry.

Gibbs asked him if he had pain anywhere, and although Tony's M.O. was to make light of it, this time he was too tired to fight. "My head." He gingerly touched the area a few inches behind his ear.

"Quite a lump," Gibbs said, his lips tight in displeasure.

"I fell… hit my head… "

"You throw up?"

Annoyed that Gibbs knew all the right questions to ask, Tony shrugged. "I guess. I'm okay though."

"Except you can't remember anything," Gibbs snapped back.

"I remember Franks… I pulled him out of the way."

Jackson said, "I'll get you something for that headache," and headed into the kitchen.

Gibbs asked, "Franks was going after Rivera?"

"Yeah. This morning, in the plaza, I was following Rivera and… Franks pulled me aside. He told me to keep out of it, and he went after… I get the feeling Rivera knew he was coming. How'd he know Franks would be there? And how did Franks know where to find Rivera?" Tony groaned. His head hurt too much for this kind of conversation. "It was a trap, laid to get Franks."

"I wouldn't discount it," Gibbs said with a shake of his head. "Rivera didn't exactly hide where he was going to be. He let Franks come to him. Where's Mike now?"

Jackson handed Tony two painkillers and a glass of water, which he took.

Tony sat up straight as he remembered Franks' bloody, bandaged hand. "He was missing a finger, Franks was. That man has a death wish, Boss! I mean, I get why he wanted to kill Rivera but this was like the shootout at the OK Corral." Tony told Gibbs about the ambush and the shootout. "Franks got shot, a bullet in the shoulder. He said… something about his sisters would fix him up. He took off before I could even get to my feet. Look, I'm sorry, I was sort of dazed and… I don't know where he went."

Gibbs sat silently for a long moment, and then asked, "You went to the airport and then…?"

"I got a ticket, and called you. The connection was bad. I tried McGee and Abby but I couldn't get through. I… was walking towards the gate and… Someone called my name. Next thing I know… I'm standing outside your house in the rain," Tony said. Saying that aloud was scary. "I know it sounds weird, but it's the truth," he insisted.

"Who called your name? Someone you knew?"

Tony shook his head. "I… I don't… I can't remember!"

Gibbs said, "You've got quite the knot on your skull, Tony. It's not surprising you can't remember what happened."

"But it's like someone flipped a switch."

Gibbs looked hard at Tony and then stood abruptly. "I need to make a call."

"Oh please, don't call Ducky. C'mon, Boss. I just need some sleep, and I'll be fine," Tony pled.

Gibbs pointed at Tony while saying to his father, "You watch him. Don't let him move. And shout if…" He didn't complete his sentence but apparently Jackson Gibbs knew what his son was asking, and nodded in agreement.

• • • • •

Someone was shaking him. Grumbling, Tony took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. "Yeah, Boss?"

He heard Jackson saying, "He calls you 'Boss' at home? Is that one of your rules?"

Gibbs said, "Not now, Dad. Tony, you listening? Ducky says you need to get your head checked out. He's concerned about the amnesia."

Tony protested with a long groan and then mumbled sleepily, "Where're m' shoes?"

"Yours are soaked." Gibbs located some deck shoes and slid them on Tony's feet.

Before Tony got off the couch, he said, "You never said what's going on." There was a look between the two Gibbs men. "Oh come on, guys, don't pretend it's business as usual. I mean, you've got agents outside."

Gibbs' expression grew dark. "This morning, while you were getting shot at by Rivera's men, Paloma Reynosa turned up in Stillwater and threatened Jack," he said, with barely restrained fury.

Was that really just that morning, Tony wondered? He'd lost all sense of time. "Threatened?" Turning to Jack, Tony asked, "Are you okay?"

"I don't remember when I've ever moved so fast, diving down into the storm cellar," Jack said with a forced laugh. "Like being in the war."

"Paloma's men unloaded a few magazines into Jack's store," Gibbs explained.

"What the hell? In broad daylight?" Tony asked, knowing it was a miracle Jackson had emerged unscathed.

"She turned tail when Jack brought out the Winchester, but then she and her men shot up the store," Gibbs said. "They were long gone by the time I got there, and the sheriff and the DEA had everything under control, but the store…"

"But my store, what a mess," Jack sighed. "Must have been a hundred bullets. Shot up everything. I don't know how I'm going to get it set back to rights."

"Better the store than you," Gibbs said bluntly.

"Easy for you to say," Jackson said, upset over the state of his store.

"I'll help you fix the store up, make it as good as new, Dad," Gibbs promised. "After we've got them." He said to Tony, "I'd already asked for a protective detail to be with Dad up in Stillwater. They got there right after the shooting."

"Close call." Tony reached over and gave the older man's arm a squeeze. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that. But you didn't get hurt? We're going to get her, right Gibbs?" He turned to look at Gibbs and got a nod. Tony could see how angry Gibbs was even though it was obvious he was trying to keep up a calm, restrained front in front of his father.

Gibbs said, "While she was trying to kill my dad, her brother was shooting at Franks."

Tony said quietly, "Coordinated attacks. Luckily, neither one successful. Except we don't know where Mike Franks is, or…"

"He'll be fine," Gibbs said.

"How'd you know?"

"Because he doesn't have any sisters."

"I don't get it."

"You said you heard him say his sisters would take care of him. But it's not his sisters. The sisters. He's talking about nuns. He holed up in a monastery in that area before. They have a vineyard and apparently their wine has restorative powers," Gibbs said with a quirk of a smile. He rose and said, "Now, let's get you to the hospital. Jack, Agents Dailey and Fisher will keep you safe. You do exactly what they tell you to do, understand?"

Jack protested, "I'm not staying here! You'll need me at the hospital. They make you wait around forever and I can fetch you coffee and…"

Gibbs laid his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Dad, this is not negotiable. I'll have one of the men come in here to keep you company. But he's on the job, so no card games, okay? Besides, you've had one hell of a day. Maybe you should hit the rack."

"I'm not some kid you can send to bed, Jethro! Besides, I won't be able to sleep until you're home. Both of you."

Tony put an end to the father-and-son quarreling by saying, "You know what, Jackson, we have this emergency department schtick down pat. We'll sail through it and be back in no time."

• • • • •

By the time they got out of the hospital, Tony was asleep on his feet. Ducky had been present and helped keep the ball rolling so there wasn't much wait-time during any part of the visit, from scans of his head to checking out his injured arm, doing blood tests and more. They bandaged his arm once again, and said his bruised wrists would heal in a week or two. They wanted to keep Tony overnight but instead, Gibbs promised they'd return the next day for a follow-up and to get the results of the tests. If Tony gave any sign he was worsening, Gibbs said he'd have him back there immediately.

The doctor stood before Tony, Gibbs and Ducky, and said solemnly, "Agent DiNozzo appears to have suffered a minor concussion, but with amnestic syndrome–"

"Amnestic what?" Gibbs asked.

"Amnesia," Ducky explained.

The doctor nodded and continued, "As I was saying, you will need to pay attention to Agent DiNozzo's ability to retain new information and to form new memories. He may have difficulty with those. Now, this may only be a transient form of amnesia, and he has lost only a few hours. Those memories may return in fragments, or all at once."

"Or not at all," Tony said with a big sigh. "What about the results of the blood tests?"

"Inconclusive," Ducky reported. "The lab is sending samples and their findings directly to Abigail, and if there is anything to find, she is the one who will find it. Now, it is late, and the best medicine is a good night's sleep."

Once the release papers were filled out, Tony said goodbye to Ducky and apologized for dragging him out in the middle of the night. Gibbs got an exhausted Tony into his truck and drove home, equipped with extra bandages, and both pain and antibiotic pills.

Jackson was glad to see them return, but he was tired after a long and eventful day, so he went to bed in what used to be a small den at the back of the house.

While Tony made his way up to bed, Gibbs went to talk with the two agents protecting them – they were going to be relieved by other agents at 0600. Tony was sitting on the bed in the guest room with one shoe off, trying to remove the sling the hospital had provided when Gibbs joined him. He placed a glass of water on the bedside table, and reminded Tony the doctor had told him to keep the sling on tonight. Once Tony was horizontal, Gibbs tucked a pillow under his injured arm.

"I'll leave the doors open so shout if you want anything," Gibbs instructed.

Tony nodded. "Boss?"

"Yeah, Tony?"

"I'm sorry I don't remember…"

"Just get some sleep. Things'll come back to you when you've had some rest."

"That isn't what happened to you, after… after you were hurt in the explosion on the Turkish freighter," Tony pointed out.

Gibbs sighed. "It'll come back to you when your brain is good and ready."

"What if it doesn't? Like Drew Barrymore in 50 First Dates? She forgets everything from one day to the next."

"You won't forget anything new, DiNozzo. And tomorrow, if you're up to it, you can come in to work with me. The director signed off on us working on your case, and you can work with Ziva and McGee, answer any questions. See if anything they find jogs a memory, okay? Now get some sleep."

"Okay," Tony said tiredly. "I know you don't like people apologizing, but I'm sorry you had to waste time taking me to the hospital. You drove all the way to Stillwater and back, and took care of your dad, and then you helped me with my shit."

"Glad I could be there." Gibbs turned out the bedroom light but left the hall one on. "You call out to me," he reminded Tony.

"Gibbs?"

Gibbs sighed. "Yeah?"

"Thanks. For taking care of me," Tony said with a yawn.

"Well, sometimes I don't know what I'm gonna do with you, but I don't know what I'd do without you, either."

Tony went to sleep with a smile on his face, but he had a bad dream and woke up in a sweat around 4 a.m. He downed some pain pills and made an unsteady trip to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

On his way back to his room he was met by Gibbs. Tony smiled at the sight of his boss dressed in a white tee and striped pajama bottoms, his hair sticking up in some serious bedhead.

"You okay?"

Tony grunted and rubbed the back of his neck. "Dreamed about being tackled in a football game, only the game was on an airplane. Weird. Night, Jethro."

"Night, Tony." Gibbs smiled as he retreated to his room across the hall.

It was only when Tony was back in bed and about to drop off to sleep that he realized that not only had he called the boss by his first name, Gibbs called him 'Tony' in return. That was nice. He also remembered the way Gibbs… Jethro … had smiled warmly at him as he turned to go back to his own room.

• • • • •