A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up. This is the last chapter to this story. All that's left is the epilogue and this whole series will finally be over. Once again, thanks to all who reviewed and read and also, thanks for your patience.

Chapter Six

"So what, you're just gonna call the head office and be like, 'Excuse me, I know this might sound deranged and slightly weird but could you please check your records for someone that fits my description?'" Pete lifted an eye brow in question.

Jack, who had laid his broad head on Tony's lap, huffed in bewilderment when Tony adjusted in his seat. Tony was being fitted today for a walking brace for Jack to use with him, now that he had become more independent of the wheelchair thanks to his physical therapy.

It had taken a lot longer than he had wanted but Tony was finally walking back to almost 100%.

Okay, sure he was probably only at about 85% but that fact alone was incredible when many doctors had told him he would never leave his wheelchair again.

Tony scratched his face, his fingers going over the scars that he had gained when his face had met the road. Most of the cobweb looking scars (at least that's what Brooke called them) were covered by his hair but the ones that showed sometimes itched.

"Well, I was going to be a bit more tactful than that," Tony finally replied, "Besides, calling the head office is stupid. Sam, the woman who almost hit that dog remember? Well I called her and she remembered the address that she dropped that guy off at. I called it but the landlord said that the tenant had moved so I asked for the forwarding address and with the help of yellowbook online, I got a number. The guy though, wasn't there but his house sitter gave me his work phone when I told her it had to do with a case-"

"You lied?" Pete mocked gasped, pretending to looked shocked.

"Anyway, get this, the guy works at NCIS," Tony finally finished his story, a smug look on his face.

"Yeah yeah, your CSI for dyslexic people agency," Pete rolled his eyes though Tony could see where the man was both excited and concerned for Tony, "So? What he'd say when you call?"

Tony shook his head, "The guy was on his honeymoon, can you believe that? Not that he was on his honeymoon but that the week I actually get a monumental breakthrough, everyone seems to be out of town. And that was two weeks ago. I'm going crazy waiting for the phone to ring, or for him to call back or something."

"Well Tony, like I said-"

But whatever Pete was gonna say was cut off when Ms. Irvine walked in, caring a leather and metal contraption towards them.

"Here we are," she smiled and when she turned it, Tony could see the stiff handle and how it was designed to spread the weight evenly across Jack's shoulders, "Hot out of the machines for you Tony."

"It's perfect," Tony smiled before looking at Pete.

But Pete was starring at Tony with that face he wore when he wasn't comfortable with something.

And right now, Pete's stare had nothing to do with what was now going on in the room.

The closer Tony got, the more he dreamed.

And dreamed.

At first, the dreams didn't make sense. Too many things were happening at once.

It was almost as if now that he was started to unravel the tangle mess his mind was, the memories or dreams or whatever they were were starting to attack him with a vengeance.

And the dreams, while they came back distorted at first, as if he cut parts out of different movies and tried to glue everything back together out of order, were actually starting to sort themselves out.

And a few days after Tony had left that message, he woke up in the middle of the night with a name on his lips.

Elf Lord.

"I have to go Brooke," Tony said later that night as he used the kitchen table to open his laptop and all his "research".

"Tony, I'm not telling you you can't go cause I know better than anyone how stubborn as mule you can be," Brooke placated, "But why don't you wait for that Agent to call you back? I mean, you took some measures to make sure he couldn't trace your call back to you, just in case, and now you want to go up there and meet him face to face…I just don't understand."

"My dream," Tony scratched his scars and ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "I saw him Brooke. I saw McGee."

"Tony, what if your mind just-"

"No," Tony shook his head, "I mean, I saw him but my brain didn't say 'This is Special Agent Tim McGee'. In fact, in my dream I called him Elf Lord."

Brooke shook her head, "I know Pete's already argued with you-"

"Which is why he's coming with me," Tony interjected gently.

"I know, but Tony, this is our family. I want you to tell me, right this moment, if you are absolutely sure you need to do this. If you say yes, I won't question you about it ever again, no matter what happens. But you have to be sure. Because going up there isn't just gonna affect you. It's gonna affect us all whether you like it or not. So Tony, are you sure?"

Tony lifted his head and looked at his beautiful wife in the eye. His wife would had helped him so much, in not only his physical needs when he had gotten hurt, but she had healed his very soul, giving him something that he had strived for so long. He wouldn't be doing this if he wasn't absolutely sure he needed to.

"I'm sure," Tony whispered after a few minutes of silence, "I'm sure Brooke."

"Alright then," Brooke nodded, her face starting to crumble even as she tried desperately to remain composed, "Just make sure you grab a coat, in case it's cold up there or something."

Tony stood and using the table and Jack (who was already leaning against his leg to provide stability) Tony walked around the table until he was standing in front of Brooke, who was still seated.

"I love you Brooklyn Hudson," Tony said, bending down slowly, very very slowly, before taking his wife in his arms, "I love you."

And with that, Tony was headed north.

Flying on the airplane was something Tony did not enjoy. His back hurt, his legs were cramped, and no matter what he did, his thoughts kept running in on continuous loop.

Jack, who was currently lying at his feet, let out a light snore.

Looking down at his service animal,Tony rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans.

Pete, who was currently sleeping in his seat, grumbled something that sounded remotely like that new Spy movie Pete had wanted to see.

Tony looked out the window as the plane pierced the clouds, wondering about all the people underneath him, all the people who would die today, and all the ones that would take their first breaths.

Tony would never meet any of them, and when he died, hopefully years and years from now, none of them would pause and wait as if something devastating had taken place.

But Tony was no longer the wandering man he had once been.

And while a small part of Tony wished he had never taken that step into Pete's place all those years ago, the other part, the large part of Tony, wondered how he had ended up so lucky.

No matter what, Tony decided suddenly in that cabin, with Pete at his side and Jack on his feet, no matter what happened in the next day or two, Tony was finished searching.

He didn't need to look anymore.