A/N: Thanks for your reviews guys!

Chapter Six: Comprehension

Like in trance, Tony finally reached out to press the panic button to alert the nurses and doctors that Jethro was awake – or had at least opened his eyes because Tony wasn't entirely sure the guy was actually awake at the moment. This wasn't a movie after all. Tony knew that Jethro wasn't likely to just get up and act like nothing had ever happened. He knew all of this, but that didn't stop him from being strangely disappointed. He was still staring into Jethro's eyes that didn't show any kind of recognition at all. Tony softly squeezed the older man's hand again, waiting for any kind of reaction from him, but nothing came. Jethro's blue eyes were still darting around the room, never really settling on anything, and most definitely not on Tony. But before Tony could start to thoroughly freak out about it, the door behind him opened and Nurse Ashley and Dr. Martin entered the room.

"His eyes are open," Tony stated the obvious and saw the slightest of a smile appear on the nurse's face, while the doctor's expression was just as unreadable as it had always been.

Tony was still squeezing Jethro's hand when Dr. Martin came to a stop next to him, clearly telling him that he was supposed to step aside, so that he could examine his patient, but suddenly Tony felt unable to let go of Jethro. What if this was the last time he'd open his eyes? What if all of this was just the last thing Jethro would ever do? He couldn't just let go, could he?

"Tony," Ashley's gentle voice cut through his thoughts like a knife. "You can't stay in here right now."

"But I have to," Tony replied with more determination than he felt right now. "I can't leave him alone right now."

"Yes, you can, Tony," Ashley coaxed and Tony felt himself move away from the bed despite himself. "Just wait outside, okay? Abby and Dr. Mallard are waiting right outside. We'll give you an update as soon as we can, okay?"

"Okay," Tony nodded and with one last glance at Jethro, he closed the door behind him, leaning against it from the outside a second later.

"Anthony?" Ducky was by his side in an instant. "What happened? Is everything alright?"

Tony blinked a couple of times, trying to process everything, trying to process anything at all before he subtly shook his head, as if it would help him to get out of his headspace, and spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

"Dear Abigail called me a few hours ago that Jethro had moved. I have been here ever since. You don't expect us to leave you when there has finally been some progress, do you?"

Tony stared at him for a moment before he realized that he had to accept that he wasn't the only one hurting and hoping here. He had already known that, but he was too used to master everything alone that even after over a decade with this team, he still sometimes forgot that they were always there no matter what. So, he finally shook his head and let himself be guided to the chairs by Ducky.

"So, what happened?" Abby asked after she had engaged him in a tight hug that eased some of the tension in his body.

"He opened his eyes," Tony reported dutifully and was able to see Abby take a deep breath as if she was about to start squealing, but there must have been something in his expression that made her stop dead in her tracks.

"But?" she pushed on.

"I don't think he's really awake. His eyes were so… I don't know, not like his, you know? They never came to a rest and stuff," Tony stopped for a moment before he added in a whisper. "Scared me."

"That is okay, Anthony," Ducky spoke again. "It is not unusual in cases such as Jethro's. He has just woken up, no need to worry just yet."

"No need to worry?" Tony asked incredulously, wondering how he could not worry about that when all he had been doing was worrying for weeks now.

"That's not what he meant, Tony," Abby hurried to explain, placing a comforting hand on Tony's forearm. "I'm sure he'll wake up fully very soon, Tony. Really soon, okay?"

"Yeah," Tony replied dumbly, fixing his eyes on his shoes, unable to look at Abby any longer.

He had no idea why he was feeling so devastated all of a sudden. He had been happy mere minutes ago when Jethro had first opened his eyes, but now he felt hope slip like water through his fingers. What if the older man would stay like that forever? What if those eyes would forever be bright and unfocused and dead? And would living like that really be better than having let him die?

"Hey Tony, shhh, calm down," Abby's gentle voice interrupted his thoughts and only now did he realize that he had trouble breathing regularly.

He focused on getting air in and out his lungs and after a moment or two, he felt himself relax again somewhat as he realized that this wouldn't help. He couldn't afford freaking out now. He simply couldn't because Jethro in there needed him and even if the other man didn't know that, Tony did and that was enough for the time being.

.

They had to wait for almost a full hour before Dr. Martin came out the room and looked at them with a soft smile on his lips and Tony felt his gut churn but in the somewhat good way this time because the doctor had never given him as much as a smile before.

"It seems like," he started once he had the full attention from them. "Agent Gibbs is in a minimally conscious state at the moment. He may not be responsive at the moment, but his reflexes are alright and he startles at loud sounds. He's not quite here yet, but this is a huge improvement, I don't have to tell you that. We have to be patient, though. Just because he's minimally aware of his surroundings doesn't meant that he will improve just as fast from now on. He may never get out of this stage. It seems, however, that things are indeed starting to look up at the moment. But I can't make any promises. We'll have to wait and see."

"What can we do to help him?" Abby asked, squeezing Tony's forearm almost painfully in an attempt to help him out of his headspace.

Tony was still staring at the doc in wonder. He had understood all of what he had been telling them, but he was still unable to bury the uneasy feeling in his gut. He simply couldn't comprehend his own feelings. Finally the doctor was slightly positive about the outcome and suddenly Tony wasn't able to believe him anymore? He had believed the doctor when he had told him that it was likely that Jethro would never wake up, had believed him when he had told him that he was only prolonging Gibbs' misery. So why was it so hard to believe now that Jethro was indeed doing better? When Tony had seen with his own eyes that Jethro had moved, had opened his eyes? Why was this so hard? All of it somehow seemed so unreal all of a sudden. Tony blinked a couple of times, concentrating on Abby' warm hand on his skin because, well, this was the one thing that was real right at that moment.

"There are multiple things you can try," Dr. Martin answered Abby's question now, "like using touch and sounds to reach him. Same goes for stimuli like smell and taste and even visuals. Talk to him, it doesn't matter about what. Happy memories or about your life in general, it doesn't matter."

"Okay," Tony saw Abby nod next to him and he did the same, knowing that it was expected of him.

"You can go back in there," the doctor continued, looking at him. "We have put him back under a mild sedation for the time being, so that we're able to make sure he's still comfortable, but he might wake up again soon. I'm sure he'd want you there when he does."

Again, Tony nodded and then the doctor was gone, leaving Tony sitting there, still feeling oddly devastated.

"Are you okay, Anthony?" Ducky asked him as he sat down next to him.

"Yeah," he answered before he shook his head. "No. I don't know."

"This has been quite a step for Jethro. You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded again. "I know, I know. But… I mean… what if…" he trailed off again, fixing his shoes with a glare of frustration.

"What if he won't make it out of this stage?" Ducky finished his thought.

"Yeah."

"You mustn't think like that, Anthony. Only a week ago, there was next to hope for our dear Jethro and look what he has achieved now. He has opened his eyes and seems to be doing quite well considering the circumstances. He is quite capable of fighting his way out of this and you of all people should know that. Don't think about the what-if, my dear boy. Think about what might lie ahead. He might actually make it. You have to concentrate on the good news here, even if it is only for Jethro's sake. Can you do that?"

Tony kept on staring at his shoes for a moment or two to let Ducky's words sink in before he felt himself nod. He knew Ducky was right. He had to forget the dead look in Jethro's eyes, had to forget his own damn insecurity about it all and be as positive as he could manage. He had a task now. Try and be happy – and if he couldn't do that, at least he could pretend to be happy. He was sure he was able to do that; he had years of practice to show after all. So, he would just go back in there, talk to Jethro and hold his hand until he would wake up again.

Tony knew he could do that, even if it would tear him apart.

So, he took a deep breath before he stood up, nodded at both Abby and Ducky and went back into Jethro's room.

.

Four days had passed since Jethro had first moved and slowly but steadily, Tony felt his anxiety get the better of him. The older man had woken up a quite a few times, but there seemed to be no change at all. Every time, his eyes had darted around, never settling on anything, let alone Tony and no matter how much Tony had talked to him, had tried to be heard, it didn't seem like it had helped one bit. The only thing that had changed was that Jethro was moving more than ever before; sometimes it was his hands that balled themselves into fists for a moment before they relaxed again and sometimes it was his head that turned from side to side as far as the ventilator allowed. But those movements were never coordinated, nor seemed to happen with Jethro's consent.

Tony knew that it was an improvement, the doctors had told him that much, but it didn't stop him from feeling more miserable with every hour that passed. It was like Jethro was right there with him and yet so far away. Sometimes it seemed like that there was no fight left in the mostly lifeless man, but Tony wasn't quite sure whether or not he wasn't only transferring his own feelings onto Jethro. He didn't think it mattered much anyway.

The rest of the team had dropped by as much as they could, had talked to him, had tried to soothe Tony, but little did it help. If anything, they had just made it all worse and Tony didn't even have a clue why. But Tony wouldn't let his feelings stand in the way of anything, so he had put on the mask of the ever-positive class clown and had done anything possible not to indulge in his own insecurity and devastation and had focused on Jethro instead.

.

It was late in the afternoon of day eight and Tony was just reading the sports section of the newspaper to Jethro when McGee quietly opened the door behind him and sat down next to him.

"Look, Gibbs," Tony commented cheerfully. "Guess who's here. McGee. You should really tell him to go out into the sun more often. He looks like he's spent the summer in Canada again."

Tim just snorted as he placed a doughnut in Tony's hand.

"Abby insisted that I have to tell you that you have to eat something."

"I'm not really hungry right now, but thanks," Tony replied, placing the doughnut and the newspaper on the nightstand. "So, what's news at the office?"

"Nothing much. Ziva and I are finally done with all the cold cases and have been reassigned to another team."

"Balboa's?" Tony asked, realizing just now that he had paid no attention to the fact that his team was two members short at the moment and therefore not able to go out into the field.

"Yeah. Agent Smith is going to be on paternity leave as of Monday and it doesn't really matter if there's a three or four man team, does it?"

"Guess not," Tony replied slowly, fixing his glance on Jethro's face because the guy had just opened his eyes again and had turned his head into their direction, but he had done that before, it didn't mean that he was actually listening.

"It's only temporary," McGee continued and Tony felt his eyes on him. "We'll just stay with Balboa until you're back."

Tony gave a start at that but recovered quickly enough as he averted his eyes from Jethro to fix McGee with a mild glare instead.

"Wouldn't count on that, McGee," he said sharper than he had intended, causing Tim to flinch away from him ever so slightly.

"I know it won't happen like tomorrow, Tony. But you will be coming back, won't you?"

"I don't know McGee," Tony snapped, raising his voice a bit. "It's not like I can make any plans at the moment, can I? I don't give a damn about work at the moment in case you haven't noticed. I can't even tell you what I'll be doing in two hours because all hell might have broken loose by then. I can't tell you I'll be back at work in another three weeks because I can't be planning on Jethro to wake up in three days. I can't do that, so would you please back off. I just don't know."

He slumped back in his chair, as if all his momentary thunder had suddenly left him, and averted his gaze from McGee's horrified face.

"Sorry, I…" he stuttered. "I didn't mean it like that. Tony, we all know how hard this is, okay? I just wanted to tell you that we'll be glad once you're back at the office. We miss you there. That's all I wanted to tell you, nothing more and nothing less."

Tony nodded mutely, trying to get himself under control again. He knew that McGee hadn't meant to upset him, but it hadn't slipped Tony's attention that the younger man hadn't mentioned anything about Gibbs coming back. He knew that this was like the unlikeliest thing in the world at the moment, but it still stung. Taking a deep breath, he tried to whisk off his own uneasy feeling and then turned towards McGee, who looked, if possible, even paler than before.

"I know, I know. Shouldn't have shouted at you."

"It's okay," McGee reassured him. "You're under a lot of pressure right now and I have no clue what it must feel like. Didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset, McGoo," Tony replied maybe a tad too cheerfully, but McGee seemed to have chosen to ignore the slightly forced tone of voice because he gave him a tentative smile. "But you're right. One day I'll be back at work and will lumber you with as many impossible tasks as I can think of."

Tim let out a laugh, then simply nodded and averted his gaze from him. Tony did the same, desperately trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. It wasn't like he had given going back to work that much thought, but suddenly it seemed too much to even consider it. Would he really go back when Jethro's condition would not improve? Would he really be able to get into boss-mode when the one who actually was the boss was still not even able to move or talk? It felt like the impossible to Tony right at that moment and he couldn't imagine that it would ever change.

Once again taking a deep breath, he stored the uncomfortable thought away for now. He would think about it soon enough, in the small hours of the morning when everything always seemed so much worse than during the day. But he wouldn't let McGee, and Jethro for that matter, see his insecurity, his desolation. Ducky had told him to be positive, so he would act as positive as possible. And that was that.

They remained silent for a long while before McGee, his gaze still fixed on Jethro, started to talk again.

"Does he often look at you like that?"

Tony, who had stared at his feet for the better part of the last minutes, looked up at McGee and nodded.

"He does it all the time. But he doesn't actually look at me or you or at anything. See his eyes? They never settle on anything. While it looks like he's actually watching you, he doesn't. Not really."

"Yeah, I know that," McGee said, but still continued to stare at Gibbs. "I've seen that before. But, Tony, does it always look like this?"

Tony felt something in his stomach turn at the mere thought of it, but tried to suppress the slightly tingly feeling as he slowly averted his glance from the younger man. He was sure that the guy was imagining it anyway, he hadn't seen Jethro as much as Tony had after all, hadn't learned to read his movements as well as he had, so it probably didn't mean anything.

But as he turned towards Jethro, he sucked in a breath. Once again, the blue eyes were looking right back at him, but this time they didn't move around, didn't seem to be all that dead anymore.

McGee had been right – Gibbs was looking at him.

"Gibbs?" Tony breathed out as he stood up slowly, never once breaking their eye contact.

Jethro didn't move, but his eyes had definitely held Tony's as he had approached him. Tony felt his pulse pick up pace. He wasn't imagining this, was he? Gibbs really was looking at him, he was sure about it. He heard McGee say something, but wasn't able to actually understand what he had just tried to tell him. He reached for Jethro's hand now and squeezed it softly and with a start realized that the older man's eyes had darted towards his own hand for a second before they settled on Tony's face again.

"Gibbs?" Tony asked again, even more quietly than before as if not to scare those blue eyes away from him. "Can you hear me?"

It took a few moments, with Tony holding his breath and praying to any god that would listen that he wasn't dreaming all of this, before Gibbs blinked once and twice and three times. And Tony was just about to repeat his question and had already opened his mouth to do so when the unthinkable happened, turning Tony's world upside down once again but this time in the wonderfully good direction.

Because slowly and haltingly Gibbs nodded once.

A/N: So that's it for Part I. Part II is in the works at the moment and I hope I'll be able to update just as quickly as I have been. Hope you liked it so far. Reviews would be rad, too.