Hello everyone! I was supposed to upload this chapter yesterday but something came up. But, here it is now!

I hope you will enjoy reading this!
Comments and suggestions are always welcome :)

Episode: Hiatus, part 2 |3.24|, Season 3

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS

xOxOx
Lost
xOxOx

A soft groan escapes his lips and he tentatively opens his eyes, testing the lighting of the room. It is dark, save for the dim light of a lamp illuminating the hospital room.

He covers his eyes with his hand and rubs them slightly before he opens them again, scanning his surroundings, slowly recalling where he is and why. A sigh escapes his lips, his breath shaky; it wasn't a nightmare after all…

The first thing he sees is her, curled in the chair next to his bed, fast asleep, her hand clutching his left one, and it gives him pause.

He braces himself for the onslaught of images, but this time it doesn't come and he is left observing the beautiful woman sleeping in the armchair by his bedside. Her presence beside him feels so familiar, so natural, like she's always been by his side. And yet, everything is hazy in his mind, every memory just out of his reach and when he tries to remember he comes up empty.

He rubs his temples almost forcefully, like the move will somehow make him remember something or, at least, ease his pounding headache away. But it doesn't do either and he is left just as frustrated as before, if not more.

His head drops back against the pillows once again and his hand lands on his chest and comes in contact with something that definitely wasn't there before, drawing his gaze down to see what it is. His eyes land on the small cross resting there, the chain around his neck, and he reaches out and takes it in his hand, looking closely at it.

The image comes to him suddenly and unexpectedly, sweeping dark brown hair aside and clasping the chain with the cross around a woman's neck before brushing his lips over the skin there.

Somehow he knows that if he turns the cross around he'll find the words Semper Fi engraved at the back. He doesn't know how he knows that, he simply does, but he turns the cross around anyway, just to make sure.

In the dim light of the room it is hard to make out what is written behind the small cross but there are definitely letters engraved there. He runs the pad of his finger over the engraving gently, feeling the texture against his skin for a moment before he drops the cross back on his chest.

His eyes find the woman, still sleeping soundly, not having moved at all from her position. He is pretty sure she is the owner of the cross currently around his neck and that he is the one that gave it to her in the first place.

He focuses on her, observing her closely as she sleeps. Even in her sleep she looks concerned, worried. There is a slight frown marring her beautiful face and for some unexplainable reason he feels the need to reach out and smooth the worry lines out. He is certain he is the reason for their existence.

He tries not to dwell on the kind of relationship they probably have. Somehow it doesn't sit well with him, despite the pull he feels towards her. He knows it's been years, they told him as much, but to him it just feels like yesterday that he got the news about his family and he can't help but feel a bit guilty, like he is somehow betraying them…

He just wishes he could remember. He can't keep going on like this. The only thing clear as day in his foggy mind is them. Shannon… Kelly… he tries to remember something else, anything really, but it seems like an impossible task and it only serves to agitate him.

He drops back against the pillows once again, a groan escaping his lips as his back makes contact, and it's enough to wake her up from her slumber. He should have been more careful.

Her hazel eyes dart open and immediately find his blue ones. Neither looks away, they just stare at each other for long moments, both waiting for something to happen but eventually nothing does.

"How are you feeling?" she breaks the heavy silence that has settled between them and he shrugs his shoulder in reply.

"Ok, I guess… I don't know how I'm supposed to be feeling…" he mutters in a low tone.

His eyes drop to their hands, still clasped together, but he doesn't say anything. He seems to be studying them intently, a small frown on his face, and it makes her pull her hand slowly away. Before she can he stops her though, tightening his grip around her fingers and refusing to let go.

She doesn't say anything, she just complies. She doesn't know why he is so transfixed by their linked hands, his eyes glued on them, his eyebrows furrowed, like there is something on his mind that he wants to ask but he doesn't know how to.

"Hey..." she catches his attention and he looks up again, his expression open and vulnerable.

"Whatever is it you can ask, you know," she encourages, reading him like an open book, and he seems to consider it for a few seconds before clearing his throat.

"You are not... I mean, we are not..." he pauses and she squeezes his hand encouragingly.

"Are we married?" he finally asks, catching her a bit off guard at first, but she recovers quickly.

That's why he was looking so intently at their hands earlier, he noticed the absence of a ring.

"No," she tells him and he nods once, accepting her answer.

"Was I ever married?" he asks and it's her time to frown, something that doesn't go unnoticed by him of course.

How does she tell him that he's been married three more times after Shannon?

"What?" he asks, suddenly alarmed by her silence, the possibilities endless.

"Nothing, no need to worry," she tries to calm him down and she takes a breath before answering.

"Yes, you did marry again after Shannon," she starts but pauses, making him look expectantly at her, waiting for what's to come.

For some reason he can sense he is not going to like it.

"Something wrong?" he prompts.

"No. It's just that, it wasn't just one marriage," she clarifies.

"More than one?"

"Three, actually," she tells him and all he can do is stare, unblinking for a few moments, trying to comprehend what she just told him.

That he didn't expect. He assumes he is divorced because there is no ring on his finger and he is not married to her, but he is certain they are in a relationship. Unless… no, he wouldn't do that. He dismisses the thought just as fast as it came and he drops his head back, eyes closing.

"What was I thinking?" he mutters, more of a rhetorical question than a real one, chastising himself, and she smiles sympathetically at him.

He finds it impossible to come to terms with that, no matter how hard he tries to wrap his head around it. He tries to find a plausible reason why he would marry three more times but he can't. Like he didn't have enough things to deal with. Why did he even ask?

He feels her squeezing his hand gently ad he turns to her once again, a small smile on her lips as she watches him. He guesses she knows exactly what's going on in his head and he doesn't know how to feel about that.

The only person who could understand him like this is dead, never coming back, and he feels weird that he found someone else who can do exactly that. The good thing about this is that he doesn't have to voice his thoughts. Even if he tried he is certain he wouldn't be able to find the right words to explain.

So, he remains silent, glad that she doesn't seem to mind at all by his inability to express his feelings in this moment.

"Do you want me to bring you anything?" she asks him, letting go of his hand and already ready to stand up, but he shakes his head negatively.

"That doctor, Ducky? He left?"

"Yes, we have a case and he was needed back at work," she explains, not giving him more details.

"Same case that landed me here?" he guesses correctly and she nods.

"Yeah..." Just by the tone of her voice he understands that she doesn't even want to think about how he ended up here.

It's strange how attuned to her he seems to be without even realizing it.

"You are still here..." he states, the question he really wants to ask lingering between them, unasked.

"Our team is very competent, they will cope," she states confidently, not giving him the confirmation he needs.

His eyes remain locked with hers, studying her closely, waiting for something more, but she doesn't give him what he wants. She doesn't seem uncomfortable by his probing stare, just worried about him, and that only confirms his suspicion. When he sees that she is not going to offer anything more than necessary he sighs and drops his gaze.

"You are going to make me ask?" he says in a low tone.

"Ask what?" she inquires

"Are we together? In a relationship?" he decides not to beat around the bush any longer.

She purses her lips and seems to contemplate what to tell him for a few seconds, probably wondering if that will help him at all, but she gives in at the end.

"Yes, we are," she states, finally giving him the answer he desperately wants to make some sense of everything. Not that he hadn't realized it earlier but, for some reason, he wanted to hear it out loud.

At least now he knows why he feels so drawn to her, why she seems to be the only one that can comfort him, make him feel some semblance of peace in this craziness.

"This is your cross, isn't it? I gave it to you," he wants to make sure that what he remembered really happened and wasn't something his mind created and she looks at him in surprise.

"Birthday present, yes. Do you remember?" her tone is hopeful and he dreads the fact that he can't give her the answer she wants.

"Just a flash, nothing more..." he tells her, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration.

She picks up on his discomfort immediately and she reaches out and covers his hand with hers.

"Don't worry, it will come to you," she tells him in a soothing tone but it seems like an impossible task right now.

Fifteen years of his life... Fifteen whole years missing, how will they come back? He shakes his head in disbelief and he runs a hand through his hair, finding it longer than he's used to.

He feels his frustration rising and he clenches his eyes shut, takes a shuddering breath. Nothing is the same, nothing is as he remembers it. What is wrong with him? How can he be alright and not remember any of this? It doesn't make sense... He wants to scream and shout but he remains silent. His emotions are so jumbled up inside him that he can't even tell them apart anymore, let alone manage them. He just needs something to cling to because he is afraid he is going to go mad if he continues like this.

"Jethro..." her soft tone pulls him out of his thoughts, like she senses he is in a dark place, and he opens his eyes again, looking hesitantly at her.

It surprises him that he doesn't find any pity in her eyes, just concern and love that both delights and scares him at the same time. Maybe he has found something to cling to after all…

"Maybe you should get some rest..." she suggests, seeing right through his facade and realizing how exhausted he really is.

He seems hesitant, somehow afraid that she'll leave and he will be left alone with a bunch of people he has no idea who they are. Not that he knows her, not like he is supposed to, but for some reason he feels safe with her, secure.

"I'll be here," she reassures, as if reading his thoughts once again, and he nods, accepting her offer.

She helps him settle back against the pillows, careful not to cause him any pain, and she arranges the covers around him, making sure he is comfortable.

When that is done she reclaims her sit in the armchair next to the bed, like she told him.

His eyes drift shut, exhaustion taking over, but he fights it off for a few seconds. He studies her through half lidded eyes, her soft gaze, her beautiful face.

"Katie..." the nickname slips past his lips unbidden, he doesn't know how or why, it just comes to him.

Her breath catches in her throat but she tries not to react, waiting if he remembers anything else, but he seems half asleep already.

"Yes, Jethro?" she prompts gently and runs her fingers over his knuckles softly.

His eyes close and his breath evens out and she believes that he is asleep, but then he moves slightly and turns his palm up, catching her fingers and giving them a squeeze.

"Thank you..." he mumbles, his tone barely above a whisper, and just like that he falls back to sleep.

A/N: Something about the order of the chapters and the format of this story in general, because I've received some messages and reviews about it lately

I know it can get confusing at times but it simply isn't possible to put the chapters in chronological order. I do have a plan for the big events of almost every season, but I don't focus on one season when I write, I work on what inspires me most at the 's why I always state when each chapter takes place. Since most of the stories are based on things that have actually happened on the show, just altered to include Kate, it is a bit easier to understand when everything happens.

Also, I find this format a bit intriguing. See it as meeting someone for the first time; you don't get all the details and stories of his life in chronological order, you slowly fill in the pieces as you get to know him;)