A/N: Spoilers for 3.21, Bloodbath. This is right after the scene in the basement. Been writing for decades, but this is the first time since high school that I've allowed anybody to see my work, so feedback and pointers are welcome, but please be gentle in your approach! Side note, I drew a lot of this from my own reaction to my cousin's suicide, and my big brother's response, as he's very much the "Gibbs" in my life, right down to enabling my caffeine habit. I felt like this dragged on a little long, but every time I thought I had the characters settled down, she got upset all over again, so I just went with it.
Abby watched as a chunk of wood suddenly separated from the in-progress boat. For some reason, her brain picked that moment to comprehend what she was doing.
"Oops," she said, as she held the hammer and chisel out in either a very childlike or very drunken fashion, for Gibbs to take from her. She knew how much he enjoyed working on his boat, and while she wasn't sure how much work it would take to fix what she'd just done, she could tell by the momentary expression of pain on his face that it wasn't going to be just a quick sanding job.
"Suddenly, having a stalker on the loose isn't so scary," she added, acknowledging in her own way that she understood, through the haze of alcohol, stress, and sheer exhaustion, that she'd done wrong. She expected him to yell at her, or finally hit her like he did his agents. When he merely took the tools, laid them down, and continued talking, it seemed to make her just feel all the worse about the lapse in judgment that led to her injuring her boss's beloved boat. She listened, barely, as he explained that her stalker was in custody, that he would be interrogated in the morning. It wasn't until he was done that she finally let her guard down, that the tears she'd been holding back for days, finally came. Even then, Gibbs mused, her stubborn nature shined through, as she only allowed three tears and a sniffle to escape. He knew there was more, much more than that, hiding in the shadows of her heart, just aching for a chance to escape. She had sat silently next to him on the entire drive home, clutching his hand so firmly that he now had new appreciation for his ability to drive one-handed. He wondered idly if she was waiting for him to make her feel safe enough, or if her plan was to bottle it up until she exploded unexpectedly at some future date.
Gibbs grabbed her hand and pulled her gently towards him. She stumbled as her feet tried to submit to his will, and he was suddenly very, very glad that she was only a couple feet away. He reached out with his other hand to guide her as she stumbled, tugging so that instead of falling to the floor, she merely sat roughly on his left leg. Abby looked surprised for a minute. In all the times he had encroached on her personal space, it had always been in a way that she could step back if she didn't feel comfortable... the big, unavoidable hugs were usually her department. Gibbs sitting her onto his lap was a new one. Before she quite knew what she was saying, her brilliant but random and temporarily-impaired mind decided to integrate this new action with another conversation she and Gibbs had had, some time ago.
"Are you going to smack me?" she asked in a very small, timid voice. Gibbs stared at her, mystified. He glanced towards the bottle he'd taken from her earlier. He knew she'd not eaten much that day, and anybody with eyes knew there wasn't a whole lot of weight to her. But she hadn't had THAT much to drink, really... where was this nonsensical talk coming-- oh. His mind suddenly went back to the day when he'd intimated that he would start smacking her like he did Tony... only not on her head.
Gibbs almost laughed as he realized that she'd taken him seriously. How long had she been trying to behave so he wouldn't make good on that threat? Of course, he had only been yanking her chain that day. His job was to play Papa Bear to the frightened little girl that Abby tried to hide with her phenomenal skills and tough-girl exterior. While his politically incorrect approach to rewards and punishments did indeed make his other team members feel wanted and cared for, there was no way for Gibbs to treat Abby the same way. If he were to smack her head, it would trigger memories from her past, memories that he had, for years, been secretly hoping to nurture right out of existence. Putting her over his knee would suit the parental way he treated her, he knew, but he also knew beyond all doubt that such an act would only be perceived by Abby as sexual in nature. No amount of playing father and daughter roles would prevent that. And on top that being entirely unacceptable to this Papa Bear as a matter of principle, it would also stir up even more awful memories that Gibbs secretly wished he could somehow soothe into never having existed in the first place. Of course, if she hadn't been drunk, he might have tried to explain all that.
Instead, Gibbs rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms loosely around Abby, searching for the right words to explain she needn't be upset about the boat, given all she was going through. But before the words could even form, he saw her face, and realized that none of those words were going to work. The guilt over that stupid boat was quite evident on Abby's face. She wanted to be punished, maybe even needed to be punished, he reasoned. It was just part of her nature, not only Abby's trademark Gibbs-pleasing personality, but also part of her humanity, to expect cause and effect. She expected that every action carries a consequence of some sort, and wasn't likely to feel better until she'd faced the consequence of her own actions tonight. He thought for just a moment before coming to a punishment that wouldn't hurt her heart. In fact, he realized, it would likely be very good for her.
"I'm not going to spank you, Abby," he said, putting her question into more blunt terms. "Not ever. But I am going to make you spend your days off helping me fix the damage."
"That's a punishment?" she asked, as her hands gestured in their typical, exaggerated fashion. "Spending time with you?" Abby made a sound that Gibbs couldn't decide if it was a dry laugh or a perturbed grunt, but once she was done, she nodded her agreement. Gibbs smiled just slightly, knowing by her reaction that he'd chosen well. She would help repair the damage, and realize how much work it was going to take. And she would be forced to spend a couple days, after this whole stalker thing was solved, in a nurturing and safe place.
"Why not?" she asked, shooting him a confused, petulant sort of look. Gibbs was suddenly very glad he could speak "Abby", as he quickly put her question together with his declaration that there would be no smacking of his frightened forensics expert. Though he did wonder why on earth she wanted to know. Gibbs tried to figure out how to answer her truthfully, but he felt fairly sure that he shouldn't bring up her past while she was this depressed and vulnerable.
"Because I said so," he responded, tilting his head forward just enough to kiss her cheek gently with that twinkle in his eye that told her he was holding back a mischievous grin. After growing up in a stern household, he loved finally having the authority to use that line. Abby groaned and leaned more fully against his shoulder in response.
"That's not a real answer," she grumbled.
"We'll have that discussion while we fix the boat. Come with me," Gibbs said as he nudged her to a standing position, took her hand in his, and began leading her to the stairs.
"Aw, Gibbs, I told you I can't sleep," she whined, even as she did what he asked of her. He glanced back as she stumbled up the first step, slowing his pace so she wouldn't hurt herself.
"I'm not asking you to sleep," he replied. "I just said to come with me."
Before Abby realized quite what was going on, Gibbs was leading her down the hallway, which was barely lit by a small lamp in the master bedroom. Suddenly, she lurched to a stop, throwing him off balance in the process. He turned, expecting her to argue again about going to sleep, but let go of her when he saw Abby in the dim light, holding her other hand to her mouth and glancing around frantically. She ran for the bathroom... well, as fast as a drunk person can run five feet in the near-dark, anyway.
Gibbs cringed as he heard her first cough. This had been the worst part of parenthood, he suddenly remembered. Worse than only sleeping an hour or two at a time, worse than the most horrific leaky diapers, even worse than his first day as the parent of a school-age child. He'd never let it show, but just knowing what Abby's body was putting her through, made him feel like he wasn't going to keep that last cup of coffee down. He steeled his nerves and stepped into the bathroom anyway, absently stroking the young woman's hair while his mind frantically worked to remember old baseball scores, everything his most recent ex-wife hated about him, his fifty or so unwritten rules of being an agent... anything.
Fortunately for him, Abby really hadn't eaten much all day. Her body didn't take long to relieve her of the excess alcohol she'd consumed. He stood politely in the hall as she put herself back together, then took her in a hug when she turned to exit the bathroom.
"Feel better?" he asked, whispering into her ponytail. Abby nodded against him. Without a word, he again took her hand and began leading her.
"Still too scared to sleep," she muttered. The dim hall felt so much darker and more unsafe now that she'd spent a few minutes under the almost painfully bright bathroom lights.
"Still not asking you to," came the authoritative reply, as he led her right past the guest bedroom and into his own. Abby blinked a couple times in the brighter light of the bedside lamp. In all their years together, this was yet another first. She'd never seen his bedroom before. For as long as she could remember, that had always seemed like a sacred place, the kind of place you just didn't enter for any reason at all, unless it was your own room. And yet, that was exactly where she found herself, looking around a room where his home's utilitarian look ended and a decidedly warm, inviting influence took over.
Gibbs, entirely unaware of the honor he had just bestowed upon Abby, let go of her hand. He walked around to the opposite side of the bed, already mussed up from a half-night of trying to rest. She, however, stood exactly where he'd left her, about two steps from the edge of the bed, staring blankly as he sat down and pulled the blanket over his legs.
"Do you think you can eat a couple crackers?" he asked. "Might settle the stomach." Abby nodded, anticipating being
dragged back to the kitchen, but Gibbs pulled out his nightstand drawer instead, and took out a plastic container of saltines. The way he held them out to her made her feel like she was a stray cat, and he was trying to lure her in off the porch. As Abby stepped closer and reached towards the container, it pulled back slightly as Gibbs used his other hand to pull the blankets back for her. Aha, she realized. He WAS luring her into his fortress of... comfort and... and whatever it is that stray cats are always so afraid will happen if they trust the person with the food. Part of her screamed that she should run away, but the rational part of her brain told that screaming bit to shut up, that Gibbs was the safest, most protective person who had ever set foot in her life. He wasn't stupid enough to do anything to betray the trust he had spent years winning.
"You keep crackers by the bed?" she asked, stumped by this discovery. Gibbs shrugged slightly.
"They help heartburn, now get in before you tip over," he answered. The verbal invitation somehow motivated Abby in a way that his gestures hadn't, and she scrambled into her boss's bed. Taking the container in her hands, she peeled the lid off and timidly ate one cracker, then another. Gibbs handed her a bottle of water, and she sipped at it.
"How much heartburn do you have to have," Abby asked, "to keep crackers and bottled water in your nightstand?" Gibbs didn't bother to answer, which was fine, since she hadn't been expecting him to. She already knew the answer anyway -- neither his job nor his diet were very kind to his body. Abby sat still, and Gibbs waited to be sure her stomach seemed settled. The nightlights would help her find her way back to the bathroom if she needed, but it would take a little bit for her eyes to adjust after he put out his reading lamp.
"Ready to lay down?" he asked after a couple minutes.
"I don't want to sleep," she reiterated, her voice cracking as another tear escaped the vast abyss of pain that was her heart. Evidently wanting to obey his wishes anyway, however, Abby handed the remaining crackers over. He put them away, then took her water and reached over her to put it on the nightstand. It was getting harder by the minute for Gibbs to conceal the fact that his heart broke a little more with each insistence that she was too frightened to close her eyes. Already noticeably more sober, Abby would notice soon. He had to get the light off before that happened. She needed his strength right now, not the raw emotion from which that strong, protective nature had grown.
"I can't make you sleep no matter how badly I wish I could, so would you just shut up and lay down?" he said, with far more frustration and worry than he meant. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and the guilt and sadness came right back over her, replacing the blank look she'd been wearing since she got sick. Gibbs sighed in frustration with himself. He knew exactly what had just happened inside Abby's mind. In his haste to get her to at least rest, he had drawn her attention straight to his eyes, right at his own weakest moment. She saw. All in the space of that moment, Abby saw every piece of his heart that had shattered over the past few days. And before he could stop her, she had reached out and grabbed the blame for that, too, placing it on herself. Gibbs silently cursed himself as he reached a hand out, resting it on hers. He knew his next words were coming from that same vulnerable, brokenhearted place he didn't want her to see, but they came flying out before he could stop himself. "Sweetheart, I'm not asking you to sleep, or even to close your eyes. I am asking you to lie down, to let me put this damn light off. I want you to lay there, let your body rest... and know that I'm going to keep you safe tonight."
Abby held his gaze for a few seconds before she moved. Sweetheart. She turned the word around and around in her mind. It was completely new, like so much else tonight, and yet it felt so familiar. In an instant of clarity, she realized that he'd been calling her by that term of endearment, with his actions... she had been hearing it every day at work, for a very, very long time. The thoughtful look still on her face, she began to shift in the bed, scooting under the covers and turning to face Gibbs as she laid down. As much as his eyes were screaming for dark, he knew she needed just a minute longer with the light on. He followed her lead, laying down to face her, just watching what she'd do next.
"I'm sorry," Abby said simply. He waited for more. "I'm sorry this is so hard for you." He held back another sigh, still frustrated with himself for the situation he'd unintentionally created. She needed for him to at least mention what he was feeling, whether he wanted to dump it on her or not. He really wanted to just clam up, in his typical fashion, but, he reminded himself, this night was for her well-being, and he had committed long ago to making whatever sacrifice he needed to, for the well-being of his team... especially Abby. Gibbs took one last deep breath, knowing that once he got the first word out, the rest would be easier.
"What's hard, Abby," he said, "is watching you go through hell, and not being able to start putting bullets in the people who've done it to you. Not being able to undo it... just having to let you walk through it." Abby nodded. She had known that for a while, no matter how hard he'd tried over the years to hide it. It helped, though, when he shared it with her... made it easier for her to not blame herself for the fact that his choice to be part of her life, was sometimes painful for him.
"This is harder than usual." Gibbs tilted his head slightly forward, a silent question of why she thought that. "You sat me on your lap, I'm in your bed, now you're calling me sweetheart... not doing a good job hiding it tonight, you know." He chuckled dryly at that. He knew his worried heart had gotten the better of him, but hoped that she would just accept the nurturing and not think too carefully on it. Of course, he knew the scientist in her was going to rehash it until she figured him out, but he had hoped.
"Exactly," he answered. "You were in my basement, drunk. You're in my bed because you're not safe at home, and too afraid to even take the guest room. This IS harder than usual, for you. I love being the one who makes you feel safer, but I wish it was a job I could do without you ever getting hurt in the first place." He fell silent after that, waiting to see what Abby would do next.
"Thank you," she said simply. Gibbs smiled and nodded. Abby held his gaze a moment longer, before squinting a little, and making the sign for darkness. Finally, finally, he thought with relief, Abby's body was winning the fight with her mind, at least a little bit. Gibbs turned the light off, and the two of them were plunged into darkness. He waited patiently for his eyes to adjust to the even dimmer light of the nightlight across the room, listening to Abby's deep breaths as he waited. After a moment, he realized, her breaths were getting less deep. And they were starting to come faster. He was just about to ask if she was all right, when she spoke.
"The dark is a little more scary than I thought it would be," she said softly.
"Yeah, but I'm still here," Gibbs replied simply. Privately, he was debating his next move. He knew what he could do for her, but he wasn't entirely certain if it would make her feel better to have him reach out and hold her close to him, in the darkness in his bed, or if that would just unnerve her further.
"Can you say it again?" she asked simply. His mind knew he should understand, but he just couldn't make sense of her question.
"Say what again?"
"What you said in the elevator." Gibbs mentally sifted through the day, taking a minute to realize what she wanted. He smiled in the dark when it came to him. He had long known that his words were powerful to her, that she believed him, and trusted him as fully as she would ever trust anyone. But it was always nice to be reminded of that.
"Nobody is going to hurt you, Abby." She was silent for a minute, and he wondered if she'd finally begun to doze.
"Can you call me what you just called me a minute ago, when you say it?" the timid voice asked in the darkness. His eyes popped wide open, in complete shock, at that. She sounded terrified, like she was about to burst into tears from anxiety. Like she expected him to say no. She wasn't just afraid of rejection, she was outright expecting it. He was perplexed. This was not how she usually reacted to his words of comfort and assurance.
"What I called you a minute ago..." Gibbs mused, making sure she realized he was still awake, as he tried to figure out what had her so scared -- oh. Wow. That instant in which he had allowed his heartbreak to leak out, and the following moment when, for her sake, he'd had to admit to all of the sadness and pain she had seen on his face... he thought it had undermined his ability to make her feel protected. And here she was telling him that his moment of painful honesty had made her feel safe and loved. That's why she feared he would refuse... her greatest fear had always been that she didn't deserve love. Gibbs took a deep, almost nervous breath, and blew it out. "Nobody's going to hurt you, sweetheart," he said in a low, almost-whisper.
Suddenly there was a flurry of motion, and Gibbs expected his companion to make a dash back to the bathroom. So it
surprised him when the weight of her body crashed into his ribcage. He was further surprised to realize that the lid she had so carefully put on her emotions, was finally beginning to fail. Abby was sniffling, and trembling, both. He decided to act quickly to pry that lid the rest of the way off and let some of her pain out before she got the chance to slam it back. Not really sure which end was up, he reached up timidly towards the sound of her ragged breathing, to stroke Abby's hair. She was laying on her back, he discovered, her head leaning towards his shoulder. Now he knew what she needed, finally.
Gibbs gently turned onto his side, facing her, shoving one arm under the now-shared pillow, while the other wrapped protectively around Abby. That was all it took. Her sniffles became sobs almost instantly, the trembling so violent that Gibbs jerked his head back a little at first, to be sure he didn't get hit in the face, in the dark. No, he thought. This wasn't working. In what seemed like an instant, he was sitting up, cradling Abby in his arms, with the reading lamp on. He could almost swear he heard his eyes screaming murderous threats at him for putting the light back on, but he didn't care anymore. Tonight, he existed for just one purpose – to take care of Abby.
Gibbs gazed down at his terrified young friend, who he had somehow managed to drag between his knees so that her legs sprawled comfortably out on the bed, while her upper body rested against his chest, her face pressed against the front of his shoulder. It was a familiar position, he realized. She was cradled against him like he used to hold his daughter in the last couple years of her life, especially in the weeks leading up to his various deployments. It had been so long, and yet his arms remembered what to do as if it were yesterday, he noticed as his left arm almost instinctively wrapped around her to support her head, neck, and back, while the right hand crept up and stroked her hair gently. After a moment, he grabbed the tissue box off the nightstand and handed it over. In between burying her face in his chest and sobbing, Abby made use of what seemed like half the box.
He watched as her tears soaked through his shirt in places, dismayed a little bit that his choices were to live with it or get up and get a fresh shirt. Ah well, he thought, after a moment. At least Abby was old enough to use a tissue. Kelly hadn't been, for the most part. After a couple minutes, Gibbs settled into the habit he had developed nearly two decades ago, rocking Abby gently as he brushed his fingers across her forehead and through her hair, resting his cheek against her hairline so he could alternate between kissing her and whispering words of reassurance. Over several minutes, the emotion poured out of Abby's broken heart, and the sobs became quieter, dying down to sniffles once again. It took another few minutes before she let her eyes wander up to find his. He knew she felt embarrassed, uncertain, and vulnerable beyond all reason, so he made sure she found an expression of loving acceptance when she finally got up the nerve to look her boss in the eye. She simply gazed up at him, the blank expression having returned. He decided to try what had worked earlier, what had worked yesterday at work, though he wondered if it was getting old and overused already.
"No one is going to hurt you," he said softly. He grinned to himself as her arms immediately snaked around him, squeezing so tight that her little nose almost hurt his sternum. No, far from being overused and worn-out, that sentence would probably still work twenty years from now, he thought to himself. After a moment she loosened her grip, pulling one hand back to rest between them on his chest, as she peered up at him. It took him a minute to realize it was an expectant gaze, that she was waiting for him to do something. And he had a sneaking feeling he knew what she was waiting for. Two suspicions, actually. He wasn't sure which she was waiting for... best to give her both. "Abby... sweetheart..." Yeah, he thought, as her eyes drifted shut and her muscles relaxed. That's what she was waiting for. "I'm not going to let it happen." Gibbs ran his fingers with the grain of her ponytailed hair a few more times before he spoke again. "Think we can put the light off now?"
"Yeah," Abby said through a yawn, as she crawled back over to her side of the bed. Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief as he slid down under the covers, turning off the light once again. "Hmm," Abby said. "Still kind of scary." Her voice was starting to sound lower and more tired, but still the heartbreaking fear showed through. Gibbs turned over on his side once again, shoving his arm under the pillow.
"You can always come over here, Abbs." Gibbs chuckled as, for the second time that night, his fearful scientist scooted over so quickly that it took his breath away. Again, he rested his arm protectively across Abby's ribcage, balancing it carefully on her lowest couple ribs, right between "too high to be proper" and "too much weight on abdominal organs". Her own hands reached up to rest on his forearm, gripping him as if for dear life for a moment before they loosened to merely rest on his arm. He smiled again as he realized that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, and in the dim light of the nightlight, he could see that her eyes had closed. Now, finally, she was beginning to doze. He kissed her temple before she had time to drift off completely.
"Love you," she muttered, already half asleep. He wondered if she would remember that once morning came. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, of course... but it was the first time that those words were more than a flippant remark flung at him along with a forensics report. Wow, he thought. After all these years, he had broken through her shell, he had finally won the battle of wills. She had let her guard down enough to say those words, and say them so that it was clear she meant them. Of course, he always knew she meant it, but she still carefully concealed it in goofy remarks, just in case of rejection. Not this time, though.. This time she chose to be vulnerable enough to just come out and say it. He grinned in the dark, thrilled to discover this new reward for his years of tending to her heart.
"I love you, too, Abby," Gibbs said softly near her ear, kissing her hairline once more before his own eyes drifted shut. He waited just a few minutes for her breathing to even out, before he let himself fall asleep.