A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody!

Chapter Three: Consolation

After he had told the doctors that he wanted to wait a little while longer, Tony had gone back to sit on his uncomfortable chair and stare at Jethro. Now that his mind was settled a bit, it was easier to look at him again, it was easier not to see the dying man lying there but the partner he loved. Their relationship had started to everyone's surprise three years previously. While the team's reactions had ranged from ecstatic to shocked, they had all accepted it in no time. Tony still wasn't quite sure how they had made it work so well and he didn't care, either. All he knew was that he loved the guy like he had never loved anyone before, but that made it only that much harder to see him like this now. Tony had always known that their job was dangerous and that from one moment to the next Jethro could be dead. But he had never imagined that they would end up like this. It simply wasn't the way that the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs would surrender to death. Tony knew, though, that he would have to accept it if Jethro wouldn't wake up in the course of the next three weeks. The possibility was more real than ever before and Tony felt cold sweat break out on his forehead at the mere thought of it.

But before he could dwell on it for too long, the door behind him opened and with great relief he saw Jethro's father walk in, a soft smile on his lips. He nodded at Tony and then sat down next to him.

"Sorry that it took so long. There's been an accident on the interstate. Street's been a total mess. But never mind. How are you doing?" Jackson asked surprisingly softly.

"Don't ask," Tony replied mutely, noting that the guy had inquired about his health and not about his son's.

"Stupid question, I should have realized," the older man said, his glance wandering towards his son. "Your friend Abby called me and told me you wanted to wait."

"Yeah," Tony pressed out, not sure what Jack would think of it, this was his son they were talking about after all. "I don't know what I'm doing really," he added quietly. "I just can't let him go right now. I… I…"

"It's okay, Tony," Jackson replied only above a whisper and reached out his hand to squeeze Tony's shoulder. "I trust you on this."

"Funny how that goes," he answered reluctantly. "Everyone says that and here I am, not trusting myself with anything. I should have never signed that goddamn form."

"Listen, Tony," Jack sighed. "Leroy here trusted you with this kind of decision and I'm sure he's had his reasons for that."

"But it was never supposed to be like this, Jack. It's just… ah hell, I don't know. I always imagined when it happened we would be like ninety and would have lived the life, you know. Not like this, not when everything was alright three weeks ago. Not when I haven't done anything to save him, for god's sake."

He looked at Jackson's face for a moment and saw the same kind of desperation he felt mirrored there and yet Jack seemed so much calmer than Tony was. For a split of a second, he wished that Jethro had never asked him to sign the goddamn piece of paper and would have left it in the hands of his father because he obviously seemed to be dealing with it so much better. But the second passed and Tony realized that not even his worst enemy would deserve to be in charge of this.

He let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair, combing his fingers through his hair and staring at Jethro once again. They remained silent for a very long time and Tony felt himself calm down a notch. It had to be something in their genes because it was only in the presence of either of the Gibbs' that Tony ever felt truly comfortable with silence. He had no clue how long they had already been sitting there when Jackson shifted uncomfortably in his chair, causing Tony to avert his gaze from Jethro.

"You want something? Coffee? Tea? Anything?"

"I'm fine, really. But maybe it's time for us to go home, huh?"

Tony stared at him for a few moments, briefly thinking about their bed at home before he realized that he wouldn't sleep, even if only a second, without Jethro there. So, he just shook his head.

"I can call you a cab. I'll stay here."

"When have you last left the hospital, Tony?" Jackson asked now, tilting his head a bit to the right as a look of concern crossed his face.

"Dunno," Tony shrugged. "When I gave Vance the heads-up that I won't be at work for a while, I guess."

"Which was when exactly?"

"The day after…," Tony stopped himself, trying not to think about the horrible scene that would show up whenever he caught a few minutes of sleep. "You know."

"Tony, you need to get home. You need to sleep, take care of yourself. You don't have to be here all the time."

"Yeah, I do," Tony replied vehemently, wondering if Jackson really thought he'd leave Jethro alone like this.

"No, you don't," Jackson softly said. "Just because you let yourself get some sleep, hell, take a shower, doesn't mean you're giving up hope or letting him down."

Tony shook his head and then looked at Jethro again, absent-mindedly taking his hand and running a thumb over the back of his hand.

"You don't understand," he finally continued quietly. "I can't go home. Everything is still the same there. It'll be like all of this didn't happen and the house will smell of him and… and… I just can't go there, okay? It's too hard."

"I know, Tony, I've been there before. But you'll have to go back eventually. And trust me, it doesn't get easier if you wait any longer. You can't keep on living on that chair."

"Yes, I can," Tony replied defiantly, causing Jackson to actually chuckle for a moment before he continued earnestly.

"You'll lose yourself here. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that you're here and that you're doing all of this for Leroy. I really am. But I can't keep watching you tearing yourself apart over a thing that was completely out of your hand."

Tony averted his glance from Jackson once again, only to realize that he couldn't look at Jethro, either. The guy had been the reason that Tony was finally happy again, had been the reason that the last three years were the best of his life and yet Tony had managed to fail him like that. He knew that if he had been just a minute, hell, half a minute, faster, he would have been able to save his partner from that last blow, he would have been able to hold him and tell him that everything would be alright. But instead, he hadn't been there fast enough and had been so shocked that he didn't even managed to choke out one single word of comfort.

"But it was my fault," he finally mumbled to nobody in particular.

"No, Tony," Jackson replied resolutely. "It wasn't. You and Tim did everything you could have done. It was this guy's fault and you know that. And it's done now. As much as I wish we could turn back time, we can't. But don't beat yourself up. Please?"

Tony turned to stare at him, already feeling the treacherous stinging in his eyes again. He had never been a crying man, but over the last weeks, he had cried so many times that he wasn't even sure how there could still be tears left in him. Jackson was right. He couldn't change it anymore. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't keep on blaming himself. He knew that it was his fault and no one, not even Jack, would be able to convince him otherwise. It was all empty words to him and even though the guy had been incredible lately, it wasn't enough to hear it from him. It simply wasn't enough.

He rapidly scrubbed his hand over his face and then took a deep breath, making sure that his voice wouldn't break.

"I know I can't change anything, Jack. But it doesn't stop me from wondering. And yeah, I know, I shouldn't do that because it only makes it harder and all. But I'm not Michael Fucking Madsen and made of steel. I just can't stop it and that's that. I have to stay here. I can't go home and look at all of Jethro's clothes and things. I just can't do it right now. I promise I will go back eventually. But not tonight. I just can't. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jackson said and stood up, squeezing the younger man's shoulder. "I understand. Just remember that you're not the only one who feels like that. There's also other people who need him and more importantly, they need you, too. Don't forget that they're just as worried as you are. I'm not saying you have to go and take care of them because I know you can't do that right now, but give them the chance to take care of you instead. I've made the same mistake when Leroy's mom died. I tried to deal with it alone and forgot that it was just as hard for the boy. I've lost him back then."

Tony turned to look at Jethro as he nodded mutely, trying to understand what Jackson had just told him. He might be right after all, but all he really wanted to do was sit here and pray to any god that would listen that Jethro would wake up. He couldn't deal with people very well right now. Jackson must have sensed his inner turmoil because when he finally continued to talk, his voice was soft and oddly beaten again.

"I'll get going then. I take it the door's still not locked?" When Tony nodded, he went on. "I'll come back tomorrow and bring some stuff for you. But think about what I've just said, will you? I might be losing one son very soon, not sure I can stand losing the second one, too, Tony."

With that he was out the door, leaving Tony staring after him in wonder. Jackson had been delighted when they had first told him that they were a couple now and Tony had always known that the guy liked him, but he had not known just how highly he actually thought of him. He subtly shook his head, trying to clear it before he shifted his chair closer towards the bed where Jethro was still lying lifelessly. He then laid his arms onto the mattress and put his head on them, so that he was on the same level than his partner.

"What do I do?" he finally whispered. "God, I hope you're not in pain, Jethro. I just can't let you go just yet, I hope you understand that. I know I'm not myself right now, but I just can't take it. I wish we could disappear from here, from those stupid gray walls and the goddamn hospital smell. Remember the cabin where you wanted to take me this winter? I wish we could go there and just be, you know. Take a walk, watch the birds, cook steaks over the fire, whatever. I just want us to be us again and not like this. I don't even know if you're still in there somewhere, but I'm begging you. Please, show me that keeping it up was the right thing to do, okay? Please."

He kept on looking at Jethro for a very long time, trying to memorize every line on his face, every little scar and every feature. The day had been long, decisions hard and yet, he felt like he would not sleep for at least another couple of hours. He simply didn't want to. He was determined to spend as much time as possible with Jethro and he wasn't going to waste it on sleep.

Jackson's words came back to his mind again that he needed to take care of himself, but he didn't see the point. He was fine while Gibbs was lying there, fighting for his life. The least he could was to be there for him no matter what would happen – even if nothing would ever happen again. He could still go and tear himself apart and put himself back together afterwards if Jethro wouldn't make it. He knew the reality of the situation and he knew that his chances were so damn slim, but at least they were still there and he wouldn't give up on him.

He had gotten used to Jethro's softer side over the course of the last three years and still, in Tony's eyes, the older man was still the invincible Leroy Jethro Gibbs who could master everything. He knew that the guy wasn't Superman or anything, but it was enough for him to believe that maybe Jethro would make it happen anyway, would pull through this and would be there again. Right at that moment, all Tony could do was wishing and begging and praying. He knew he was weak but he couldn't have cared less.

"I'm sorry," he finally said out loud. "For everything, I am so sorry."

He carefully took hold of Jethro's hand, then lifted it to the back of his head and softly slapped himself with it.

"Don't apologize," he said in a horrible attempt to imitate his partner. "It's a sign of weakness."

He gave a sigh and let Jethro's hand sink down onto the mattress again. He looked at him and realized that if he only concentrated hard enough, he could fool himself into thinking that the older man's lips had just twitched in an attempt to hold back his famous half-smile.

A/N: Yes, I realized that nothing much has happened in this one, but I promise it does serve its purpose, as you'll see in the next chapter. I'd still love to hear your thoughts, though.