Chapter 10
That day went very slowly. Even for Tim, who wasn't really sure he wanted to leave this apartment, it was slow. Once he woke up, Tony had him doing his exercises, but Tim's mind wasn't really on them. It was on whether or not he could bring to mind any of the names he'd found. He knew that he must have found some. He knew that he'd had suspicions before, but all the names were absent from his memory at the moment. Was it actual damage to his memory or was it just more of his being stupid?
"Tim?"
And if it was just his being stupid, how did he stop being stupid and start thinking right again? He hadn't been so stupid before. How could he hope to let this be over if he couldn't stop his stupidity and remember the names he'd found?
"Tim."
And what about Tony? What about Gibbs? How could this be over for them if he couldn't stop being stupid?
"Tim."
A slight shaking jarred him from his ruminations and he looked up at Tony. Tim decided that he hated being so weak that he couldn't even handle sitting up for long periods of time.
"What's going on, Tim? I don't like it when you stop responding to me."
"It's not like my responses are any good anyway," Tim said, feeling bitter...and stupid.
"Hey, come on. Don't talk like..."
"No," Tim interrupted. "You need me to remember, and I can't remember, Tony!"
Tim saw a flicker of disappointment in Tony's eyes that was quickly hidden. But Tim had seen it this time. He knew that Tony hated being here. He knew that Tony wanted to leave. He felt that same anxiety that kept coming in and taking over his mind.
"And you hate it, too!" he said. "You hate that I can't remember! You want to leave."
"Yeah, I do, but you're not going to get anywhere by making yourself panic, Tim," Tony said. "You just need to calm down and take your time."
"As long as it's only two days! I can't remember!"
"Tim! Calm down!" Tony said again.
"I know I must have known them before!" Tim said. "I know that I must have found them! I can't remember!"
"Tim! Listen to me!"
"The names have to be in my head, Tony! They have to be! If I looked at them, I saw them. They're in there! I can't remember them, but they have to be there!"
"Tim! Stop!" Tony said, loudly, punctuating each word with a shake.
Tim was almost hyperventilating, but he stopped talking.
"I get it. You're freaked out, but you need to calm down. I can't be hysterical if you are. One of us has to be calm, and I'm tired of it being me."
The words gradually penetrated and Tim managed to smile a little, but he wanted to cry. In fact, he felt his face starting to crumple a little and he mastered the impulse.
"Just take a deep breath and calm down. You need to be calm more than you need to remember."
"No. That's not true. I need to remember," Tim said.
"Yeah, you do. I'm not saying you don't, but if it's making you panic like this, just calm down. We have time, and even if you don't remember by the time Gibbs gets here, we'll figure something out. If you start working yourself up, all you're going to do is make things worse," Tony said. "So take a deep breath."
Tim nodded, but his mind wasn't really on what Tony said.
"Tim, I said take a deep breath!" Tony repeated.
"Why?"
"Just do it, Probie!"
Tim took a deep breath. He felt the pull a little in his chest, but it didn't hurt much.
"Now, let it out slowly."
Tim let it out in a whoosh.
"No! Slowly! Try again. Deep breath."
"Why are you doing this, Tony?"
"Just trust me for once, Probie. Deep breath."
Tim breathed in.
"Now, let it out slowly. Slowly."
Tim tried to let the air out slowly.
"Good. Do it again."
Tim obeyed.
"Again."
That was all that happened for about five minutes. And Tim managed to calm down like Tony kept telling him to do.
"Good. Feeling better?"
"Yeah...but what if–?"
"No. We're not going to do that again, Tim. It'll come if it can. It's not the end of the world if it doesn't. It might make things more complicated, but we'll survive."
"Will we?" Tim whispered.
"Yes," Tony said, firmly. "If I have managed to hide out here for two months without anyone finding us, then, we won't automatically be in danger just because we leave. If they knew where we are, they'd have come after us already."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
"That doesn't surprise me. But no matter what, Tim, you just need to calm down. We will be fine. Two more days and Gibbs will be here. Two more days and we'll know what to do next."
"Gibbs isn't perfect."
"No, but we'll be doing something and there will be someone else helping out. That's a good thing. Don't think of what could go wrong. Think of what will be going right. Gibbs is okay. That means that they didn't find him, either. It's going to work out, Tim. It is."
Tim nodded. He wasn't as confident, but he could tell that Tony wanted him to be. So he gave the answer Tony wanted.
"Okay," he whispered.
"Okay," Tony said. "I need to make dinner. Why don't you watch TV. Stop thinking about what you can't do and relax."
"Okay," Tim said again.
He let Tony help him over to the couch and he sat down and stared at the TV without really seeing anything.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Tony held back a sigh as he tried to decide what to make for dinner. It was good that Tim was starting to want to remember, but at the same time, it was clear that he was not in a good mental state to deal with it. Tony had no idea what to do about that. His focus had been completely on Tim's physical health, not his psychological health, and this was frustrating and a little scary to see. Tim was just not able to think rationally about what had happened, and he was reacting mindlessly to his fear.
Two more days. Just two more days.
That was all that was keeping him from losing it now. The knowledge that something would change in two days preserved his sanity.
Two more days.
I can do this for two more days. I can do it.
He decided on soup for dinner again. It was just so much easier on Tim if he didn't have to worry about too much chewing or anything like that. And it was so easy to get Tim to eat what he needed using soup as the medium. But this time, Tony decided that he was going to make soup instead of just open up a can. ...well, he'd open up a can of broth, but that was simply because he didn't have time or resources to make his own...and he'd never done that before anyway. However, if he'd been able to, he would have tried it just to take up more time.
He got out every ingredient he needed. Pulled out the pots he'd need. Checked on all the measurements from the recipe. Checked them again. Then, he finally started to assemble the meal. He probably took twice as long to do it that way, but he didn't care. It took up time.
Two more days.
I'm going to beat my head against the wall if I have to do this for more than two more days.
No. He couldn't think that way. Just like Tim couldn't let himself panic about remembering or not remembering. He couldn't let himself start to worry about what would happen if, for some reason, they ended up having to stay here even longer.
He didn't blame Tim for this, but at the same time, he was really frustrated that he couldn't just make Tim get better, make Tim act like himself, make Tim stop being so afraid of everything, make Tim remember. Too much depended on Tim, and Tony hated knowing that it really didn't depend on him doing anything but acting as support for someone who was a little unhinged at the moment.
Dinner. That was what he needed to worry about right now. Just dinner. Soup. It didn't have to be complicated. It was just dinner. Just soup.
He looked over at Tim who was ostensibly watching television. Tony could tell that Tim wasn't really paying attention to what was on the screen. He figured that Tim was still thinking about what he couldn't remember, but at least he was calm about it this time.
It gave a little bit of silence, a little bit of calm in the wake of Tim's latest freak out. And yet, at the same time, Tony hated the silence, too. It didn't really make sense, but there it was. Tony hated the silence but when the alternative was Tim having a meltdown, he would take the silence instead.
He continued fussing over the soup, staying in the kitchen, staring at the pot, waiting for the veggies to cook down so that Tim could eat them easily.
Two more days.
All too soon, the soup was ready and Tony knew he had to disrupt the uneasy silence and get Tim to eat dinner. It wasn't what he wanted to do, but Tim needed to eat. Both of them needed to eat, and Tony couldn't let himself be afraid of what would come next. He'd been joking, but it was true that one of them had to be calm and rational. It couldn't be Tim right now. So that left only one option.
"Tim, you ready for dinner?" he asked.
No response. Stifling another sigh, Tony walked over to the couch and sat down beside Tim as he stared vacantly at the TV.
"Tim, time to eat. You hear me?" he asked.
"Yeah," Tim said.
"You ready?"
"Yeah."
"You need help?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
Tony helped Tim stand and walk to the table. Tim sat down and ate everything Tony gave him. He didn't speak. Tony knew that Tim wasn't really in a state to comment on the taste of the food, but he was used to people liking what he made. And in this case, Tim didn't seem to care. He just ate because Tony made him eat. When he finished, Tim pushed himself to his feet on his own, but then, Tony had to help him back to his bed. Tim lay down and his eyes closed. Tony watched him for a few minutes...and then went back to the kitchen to thoroughly clean every square inch.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
It was dark when Tim woke up. He lay there, in the dark, for a long time. He didn't move, didn't speak. He hoped that Tony was asleep. He didn't want to disturb him.
No matter what Tony said, Tim knew that he had to remember those names. It was vital that he remember them. Nothing was more important than remembering who he had found. Calm wasn't more important. His health wasn't more important. He had already been nearly killed. He wasn't likely to be killing himself, no matter how panicked he might get.
I have to remember!
He just didn't know how to jar those memories loose. He didn't know what it would take to retrieve information that he knew must be in there somewhere.
I have to remember!
What would it take? What could he do? How could he control his stupid mind enough to get himself in a state to remember what he should know already?
I have to remember!
He lay there for an unknown period of time, desperately trying to think of what he couldn't think of.
...and then, suddenly...
Everything changed.
There was a knock on the door.