A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews!

Chapter Three: Dissociation

Tony should have known that it wouldn't be that easy to talk to the guy right away. The next day he got called in at six o'clock in the morning because of a dead petty officer and he didn't even have time to catch his breath till five days later when Ziva finally found the missing piece to their puzzle and they were able to bring the killer in. By that time it was Tuesday already and Tony silently vowed to himself that he would talk to Gibbs on the weekend. He knew that he was a chicken for not tackling the problem right away, but he couldn't help it. He still hoped that things would miraculously get better overnight and while deep down he knew that it wouldn't happen, he couldn't help but to give in to the delusive hope. He had to dodge a couple of questions from both Abby and Ziva who had apparently picked up on the fact that he was easily distracted these days and barely engaged in not-work-related conversations, but he assured them that he was fine and that he would come to them if there was something wrong. It was a blatant lie and Tony was pretty sure that the two women knew it, too, but they didn't call him up on it, so he didn't think much about it. He'd deal with them as soon as there actually was something wrong.

He could hardly tell them that his gut was telling him that there was something going on with Gibbs that wasn't all that great after all. He wouldn't tell them that he had been sleeping on the couch in the living room that last week, either. It hadn't really been a conscious decision, but he had always come home so late at night, if at all, that he hadn't wanted to wake up the other man. He knew that he, there, too, was hiding and running away from confrontation but it was what it was and he wouldn't change it for the time being. Maybe things would look up after all. Sometimes, when Tony got home from work, tired and cranky, Gibbs would just look at him, hand him a bottle of beer and then just sit down on the couch and watch him in silence. It was times like these that Tony thought that the other man did remember after all because they had done it a hundred of times before. But then again, this was just Gibbs. He had never talked much, had always waited for Tony to finally speak up when something was bothering him. Gibbs was probably just trying to reach out to him in some way and had coincidently chosen his old tactic to do so. But besides those quiet evenings, they were rarely ever spending time together anymore. Most of the time when Tony came home, Jethro was either asleep or down in the basement sanding away at his boat. If he didn't know better, Tony would have thought that he was avoiding him on purpose, but then again why would he? Gibbs apparently didn't have that much of a problem with Tony except for the not-touching part and the never-talking one. So yeah, he probably was hiding from him after all.

.

"For god's sake, Tony," McGee snapped late on Friday afternoon, all but throwing the files he had been holding at Tony. "I know you're the boss now, but quit barking at us for no apparent reason. We've had a long week and we're just as desperate to get out of here as you are."

"I'm not the boss, McGee," Tony replied indignantly, gathering up a few papers that had slipped from the folders.

"Right now, you are," Tim sighed exasperatedly. "I don't know what your problem is these days, but solve it. I've had enough of your moods this week."

Tony had already opened his mouth to contradict the guy as he realized that the younger man was probably right. So he closed it again, organizing the papers for a moment and trying to find his inner equilibrium again. He finally let out a deep breath and then looked up at Tim again, trying to give him an apologetic smile.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Sign of weakness," McGee replied automatically, but Tony vehemently shook his head.

"No, it's not. I'm sorry and you're right. I'll deal with it this weekend, won't happen again."

"Okay," Tim answered slowly, his brows furrowed, but he didn't continue the discussion and just sat back down at his desk.

Tony sighed again and then tried to concentrate on the report he had yet to type before going home. He knew that he hadn't exactly been Mr. Sunshine these past weeks, but he hadn't realized that his bad temper had shown that much. Internally vowing that he would treat the other two agents better, he finally set to work, determined, more than ever, to settle things with Jethro that weekend as it couldn't possibly go on like that.

.

He didn't have the chance to do so on Friday as Ducky had insisted to take the older man out to dinner that night. Tony had settled to watch some 007-movies to clear his head somewhat. James Bond never failed to keep him distracted and it worked this time, too. By the time Ducky and Jethro got back, he was in a considerably better mood, was able to make small talk with the ME and could almost pretend that Gibbs was his usual old self, too. But only almost. Because when Gibbs went to bed with a short 'Good night' and without a glance at him, he knew that he was in trouble, knew that he had to talk to him. Suddenly feeling anxious, Tony lay down on the couch again, trying to get at least a few hours of shut-eye before doomsday.

By morning, he felt absolutely whacked. He had barely slept, his head was pounding and his back was hurting like hell. When Gibbs finally woke up and left the bedroom in favor of drinking some orange juice before starting to go down to his goddamn boat, Tony finally took the figurative plunge.

"Gibbs?" he asked, his voice surprisingly steady despite his inner turmoil. "I think we need to talk."

"Yeah," the older man replied, his expression serious as he sat down next to Tony on the couch. "Think so, too."

Tony nodded thoughtfully, not missing Gibbs' slightly shaky voice, even though he was articulating better and better with every day. They stayed silent for a moment, with Tony staring at the opposite wall and Jethro fidgeting ever so slightly, which suddenly unnerved the younger man to no end because he never used to do that.

"Can I ask," Tony finally started, his own voice rather shaky now, too. "What your problem with me is?"

"I," Gibbs answered and Tony felt his eyes on him, but he didn't avert his glance from the wall. "Do not… have a problem… with you."

"Come on, Gibbs," the younger man replied with more force than he had intended, so he took a deep breath to calm himself down somewhat before he continued. "Do you really think that not sharing a bed anymore is not having a problem? Or that you can't stand me touching you? Don't take me for an idiot."

Gibbs visibly flinched at Tony's raised voice, but the younger man couldn't bring himself to really care at the moment. He really needed to know the answer to those questions otherwise his sanity would disappear completely.

"You… not an idiot," Jethro finally answered haltingly as if it cost him more than a few breaths to get the words out. "I… I'm just… It's weird."

"Weird?" Tony asked slightly taken aback, as he had expected the other man to deny it. "What is weird?"

"T-touching you."

"Why?" he said unable to hide his annoyance and it showed apparently because Gibbs visibly flinched away from him again, fixing his glance on his hands now.

"Because… I feel weird cuddling my… senior field agent."

Tony stared at him for a moment or two, feeling his heart sink and his breath hitch in his throat.

"What?" he finally asked so quietly that he wasn't even sure that the other man had even heard him.

"It's weird that I… am supposed to… c-cuddle you when I used to give you… orders and smack… your head."

Tony felt like he had been dipped into ice-cold water and punched in the stomach at the same time. He blinked a couple of times, trying to get his head around what Jethro had just said. How could he say something like that? How could he do this to him? They had gotten over that issue years ago and now he was bringing this up again?

Wait.

Tony felt his heart miss a beat as another realization slowly sank in. Suddenly he was feeling sick to his stomach and he wanted to run again from all of this, but forced himself to stay calm.

"You remember?" he finally asked so feebly that Gibbs instinctively leaned closer towards him, causing Tony to breathe in his scent, but it only made it so much worse at the moment.

"Yeah," Gibbs answered, barely louder than Tony. "C-Couple of things. Shannon. K-Kelly. Work."

"When? Since when do you remember?" Tony pressed out, successfully fighting his tears for the moment.

"A while ago."

"A while?" Tony asked, his voice louder now and he couldn't hold back the anger anymore as he continued. "A while? Why the hell did you not tell me, Gibbs?"

Gibbs finally averted his eyes from his hands to look at him instead and Tony's anger instantly diminished somewhat as he saw the fear in the other man's eyes.

"Did not want to… disappoint you."

"Why would I be disappointed?" Tony asked, his voice smooth and even all of a sudden as if the previous outburst had never happened.

"'Cause… I do… not remember us," Gibbs answered so quietly and devastated that Tony felt the urge to reach out and touch him reassuringly, but he knew that now was hardly the time.

"But that's not your fault, Jethro."

"Know that. Not make it better."

"Okay," Tony slowly continued after a moment of silence as he realized that Jethro wasn't about to continue. "You feel weird touching me because you don't remember about us. I think I get it, but that can't be it, you know? You, uh, didn't want me to touch you before you remembered, either. Even when you were barely, well, here, you always flinched away."

"I… know," Gibbs replied quietly, once again averting his eyes from him. "You didn't t-tell me that we were t-together and I… not understood why you were t-touching me like that."

Tony blinked a couple of times before the truth sank in that this was his fault. He hadn't told the guy back then and he had never realized that it had to be feeling pretty weird holding hands with him when one didn't know their back story. Mentally kicking himself, he took a deep breath as he fought down the urge to apologize and cry.

"Okay," he quietly replied, running his hand through his hair erratically. "But you seemed to be okay with it when I first told you we were together."

"I was," Gibbs answered. "'Cause I thought… I would remember it again. But it… did not seem right."

"Why?"

"'m not g-gay."

Tony let out a pathetic attempt of a laugh, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back his tears once again.

"I can't believe we're having this conversation… again. Look Gibbs, just because we were… well, you know, doesn't mean you're gay. I've already told you that, but we both were never interested in guys before each other. Abby liked to call you Tony-sexual. It didn't matter that I'm a guy, Gibbs, because you and me we just clicked. And you… you loved me."

Gibbs remained silent but finally looked at Tony again. His expression was open for once, with different emotions flickering over his face with every second that passed. Tony stared right back at him, waiting for the reply that never came. Instead, Gibbs just kept on watching him as if he was waiting for Tony to do something. But the younger man didn't know what he wanted him to do. So, they just sat there for a very long time and Tony felt his heart grow heavier with every moment that passed that Jethro wasn't answering. Finally, the realization hit him.

"That's not it, though, is it? The being gay part? There's something else that's bothering you, right?"

Gibbs stayed quiet for a minute or so before he slowly and tremendously nodded.

"What is it? Please, tell me," Tony realized that he was getting frantic now, as if he was trying to hold on to something that he knew he had already lost. "What is it?"

"Feel like… betraying Shannon."

Staring at Gibbs, Tony let out a breath he hadn't even known he had been holding. He subtly shook his head, trying to find a way to explain to the older guy that they already had that exact same conversation three years ago when they had realized that just because Gibbs was with Tony now didn't mean that he was cheating on Shannon. But how in the world was he supposed to tell him that when the other guy didn't even remember their first kiss, their first date or the first time they woke up in each other's arms? How was Tony supposed to explain to Gibbs that he had indeed loved him? How could he?

"Gibbs, listen," he finally started, his vision fogging up, but he refused to let the tears fall. "We've had this discussion before and I really don't know what I'm supposed to tell you." Tony gulped, trying to keep his voice from breaking as he continued. "Except that I can't change anything. Shannon always will be a part of your life, but that doesn't mean you can't love me or anybody else for that matter. Look… I know Shannon and Kelly's deaths hit you hard and that you had trouble getting back on track afterwards. I know all of that because you told me all about it. And you want to know why you told me? Because you trusted me. And I know that I can't just make you trust me again, but I've been there for you whenever you needed me. I don't know if you remember that, but I've always had your back on everything. Even if it was stupid, I've always been there. And I've worked my ass off these last couple of months to be by your side every damn minute that I wasn't at work. I ran myself ragged to be there and yet… I'm sorry, but I don't get anything from you? Not a word, not a look, not one single touch? I know it must be hard not remembering anything, I'm sure I can't even begin to imagine what it feels like, but can't I get anything in return? I fought for you every damn minute. When everybody told me take you off life support, I refused to because I wanted to give you a chance to fight. And all I'm asking you now is to fight for this, too, okay?"

"They wanted to let me d-die?" Gibbs asked now, his voice slightly shaking and his complexion becoming paler.

Tony closed his eyes, urging himself to remain calm because that was – once again – not what he had wanted to hear, but he forced himself to answer anyway.

"Yeah, about two weeks before you woke up the doctors told me that there was no chance that you'd wake up again. I was the only one who wanted to give you a bit more time. And you want to know why? Because I believed in you."

Gibbs remained silent at that, his eyes locked into Tony's. The blue seemed brighter than usual and Tony felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he realized that once again, the older man wouldn't react to his words like had expected – or had hoped he would. Once more, he just continued to stare at him, apparently lost for words and not realizing that he was killing Tony more and more inside with every second he let lapse away without saying anything.

"You know what the worst thing about it is?" he finally started over as the silence seemed to want to eat him up alive. "I don't remember our last kiss. I just can't remember it. I wish I could tell you that the last time we kissed was spectacular like in the movies before something bad happens, you know. But I just can't… because I don't remember. I can't remember what you tasted like or what you last said to me before we went to work that day. I wish I could tell you to make you see that this, us, was really real, but I can't."

Expectantly, he looked at the other man, but once again, he stayed quiet. He had a pained expression on his face now and Tony felt his heart break all over again because he could almost see the desire to remember them on the other man's face, but the memory never came.

"Look," Tony said after a while of poignant quietness. "I love you. So much. I don't know what to do."

"I know."

"Yeah, but you don't love me, do you?" Tony asked quietly now as he looked into the bright blue eyes that were shimmering with unshed tears.

There was dead silence again before Gibbs finally shook his head. "No."

"Could you…," Tony trailed off as he swallowed down the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him. "Could you… I mean… do you think you could fall in love with me again?"

He held his breath as he looked straight into Gibbs' eyes and then felt an iron fist clutch his insides when the older man half shrugged and half shook his head.

"Okay," Tony answered quietly, leaning away from the other guy ever so slightly. "Okay."

So this was it. This was the end and Tony had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

He wanted to be mad at the other man, but he was looking at him so broken at the moment that it seemed impossible. Tony knew that it wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault that he didn't remember and that he didn't feel the same way anymore. But it didn't make it easier. On contrary, for a brief moment Tony wished that Gibbs would just tell him that he had never loved him because that actually would make it easier to accept breaking up now.

He wanted to cry, wanted to shout, but he had to realize that he didn't have the energy anymore. He was just tired. He was exhausted. It was all too much and he didn't know how to make it better. All he knew was that he couldn't continue to just sit there and look at Jethro because it would break him once and for all. So he finally stood up, the tears still not willing to come as he walked towards their bedroom.

"Where you going?" Gibbs had finally found his voice as he stood up, too, and started to limp towards him, but Tony just shook his head.

"I can't be here right now. I'll just grab some of my stuff. I… I'm going to spend the night at Ziva's, okay?"

Gibbs stared at him for a moment and it seemed like he wanted to hold him back, but then he nodded dejectedly and sank back down on the couch. Tony looked at him for a moment before he walked into their bedroom, threw some of his clothes into his overnight bag and then made his way towards the front door. Stopping in the hallway, he turned around again to look at Jethro again.

"I'll call Ducky to keep you company, okay?" At Gibbs' nod, he continued. "If there's… anything… wrong… give me a call. I'm not mad at you or anything… I just can't… look at you right now."

"'Kay," Gibbs nodded again and then Tony turned around and left him behind.

.

Half an hour later, Tony stood in front of Ziva's apartment door, feebly wondering how he had even gotten there. His thoughts there still swirling in his head uncontrollably and he had no idea what he was supposed to do now. He still hadn't cried and he didn't even know why. Maybe he was still in shock and hadn't processed everything, but he had no clue what it would feel like if he did because he was pretty damn sure it couldn't be any worse than this. With a deep breath, he finally knocked, steeling himself for Ziva's questions that were sure to come. His first impulse had been to go to Abby's because he really did need a hug right now, but he couldn't imagine how Abby would react. She was way too emotional for this, so Ziva seemed like the more prudent choice because Tony really, really needed some perspective right now.

"Hey Tony," Ziva greeted him with a giggle as she opened the door. "Did not expect you today," she continued, looking back over her shoulder where a tall man with dark brown hair was standing.

Tony stared at the guy for a moment and wanted to apologize and turn around as Ziva caught his elbow, her expression suddenly changed. Her smile had been replaced by a deep frown as her glance reached the bag in Tony's hand.

"What has happened?" she asked, pulling him into the apartment, paying the other guy no attention whatsoever.

"Gibbs… and… me," Tony stuttered unable to form a coherent sentence. "Over."

Ziva intently stared at him for a moment or two before she softly pushed him down onto her couch. "Sit. I am going to make you some tea and then we can talk, yes?"

Tony felt himself nod mutely, barely paying attention to the short conversation between Ziva and the other man as he said his goodbyes. A few minutes later, Ziva sat down next to him, offering him a cup of tea, which Tony drank down hastily, not caring that he burned his tongue in the process.

"Didn't mean to spoil your day with…?"

"Lucas," Ziva offered, patting his shoulder. "And it does not matter. There will be other days. You are more important right now."

"How long have you been seeing him?" Tony asked, unwilling to think about his situation and desperate for some distraction.

"About half a year."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tony said now, slightly surprised as he saw Ziva shake her head ever so slightly.

"I did, Tony."

"When?"

"Often. But it does not matter right now."

Tony stared at her for a couple of moments, realizing that he hadn't even noticed and hadn't even listened to one of his best friends when something so important had apparently happened to her.

"Fuck, Ziva," he finally pressed out. "Where did it all go so wrong? Where did I go so wrong? Why can't I make it right? Why can't I?"

The tears finally started to fall now and sobs were escaping him and for once Ziva remained silent as she pulled her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Why can't I make it right?" Tony whispered over and over again through his sobs, knowing that Ziva knew no answer to that, either.

A/N: Please, don't hate me xD Would love to hear your thoughts!