Is Abby really that bubbly all the time?
That's what I was thinking when this wonderful little idea popped into my head. Maybe it's just me thinking with all my dark thoughts, but…
It makes sense, doesn't it?
Anyway… McAbby!
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or any of its characters. I never claimed to, but I'm putting this here anyway.
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"Don't they get it?" She asked, looking at me in despair, her usually upbeat nature dulled.
"Get what?" I asked, putting another bite of pasta in my mouth. We were sitting at my table, eating a perfectly cooked meal.
"Get that I don't really care about their problems!" She said, anguish layering her voice. She lowered her head and her black ponytail fell over her shoulder. She didn't usually keep her hair in a ponytail; it was pulled back in pigtails most of the time. Tonight was somehow different. There was so much going on at work, a few different homicides all at once, she had to process all the evidence, and as usual she was refusing an assistant.
"Abby, you do care, even if it's just a little bit," I said carefully, my hazel eyes meeting her green.
"I mean, I love having all the juicy gossip," Abby said quietly to her plate, ignoring my statement, "but I don't want to have to resolve all their problems. I don't know how long I can handle all this drama!"
"Abby, calm down," I said. "Your personality just attracts people, makes you seem trustworthy."
Abby just groaned and sat back in her chair. "I don't want to 'seem trustworthy'," she said sourly. "I want to be who I am, not a problem solver for everyone and their mother."
"Abs, you are who you are, and that's why I love you," I said with a sigh.
"This isn't me, though," Abby said with a sigh, wildly indicating herself with her hands. "See this?" She asked, pointing to her black hair. "And you see this?" She pointed to the spiked collar around her neck. "And do you see all this, and these?" Abby asked me in desperation, pointing to her dark make-up and black clothes. "This is who I am. I may keep up an appearance of being all happy-go-lucky all the time, but I'm not. I never have been."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, outrage sneaking its way into my voice. "How can you say something like that?"
"What do you mean? I'm a Goth for a reason, Tim!" She said. "It's in my nature to be happy, but I never wanted to be!"
I just stared at her for a second. Was this the same woman I had met just a few months ago, the same woman I had fallen in love with? She was usually so upbeat, so bubbly. "Abby, what are you saying?"
"I don't know, Tim," she said quietly, turning away from me as she stood up from the table. "I just don't know anymore." She began to walk away.
I stood and took a few steps after her. "Abby, wait," I said gently, reaching my hand out.
"For what, Tim? What am I waiting for?" She asked, turning back ever so slightly. I could see tears in her green eyes that could barely be seen from under her long, straight bangs.
"I-," I paused. I didn't know where my mind was going, or rather where it wasn't going. My mind was racing, and I didn't know how to tie it down to any one idea long enough to come up with an intelligible sentence. I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it. "Wait for me. Wait for me to understand where you're coming from and what exactly you're saying," I said, walking over and taking her hand in mine.
She smiled weakly and kissed me gently on the cheek. "I'll wait for a while, but I can't do anything else tonight. I need to go home, Tim."
I tried to smile back, but failed. "I understand. I'll see you tomorrow."
She hugged me gently before she walked out my door. And I let it happen. I turned away from the shut door and cleaned off the dinner table slowly, trying to hold back the tears. I didn't know what to think. I just didn't know. No one knew anything, it seemed.