Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo

Author: AnonymousNCISFan
Rating: T (PG-13)

Summary: NEW SERIES! The second in a series of one-shots about how Abby might possibly leave. The focus is definitely on the Gibbs/Abby relationship, which sadly has been pushed aside this season. I don't necessarily want to see any of these scenarios play out on-screen but think each one would have significant emotional impact.

Main Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship

Spoilers: Up to & including Season 15

Warnings: This story contains lots of angst and a major character death – be warned!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.

Goodbye, Abby: Bravo Yankee Echo

Chapter 1: Just Breathe

Author's Notes: This story takes a darker spin on Abby's exit, told in 3-4 chapters (hopefully!) Lots of callbacks, lots of Gibbs angst. Feedback is much appreciated!

Gibbs straightened his tie and cufflinks, pacing outside the door nervously. He felt out of place, out of sorts and out of options. He was amazed that her brothers had allowed this – although he really shouldn't have been. They shared Abby's kind and forgiving heart. The door opened slowly as Kyle Davis and Luca Sciuto emerged from inside.

"Whenever you're ready," Luca said softly, patting Gibbs on the back. Seeing the pain in their eyes – and unable to shake the feeling that he had put that pain there – Gibbs nodded and looked away, walking inside the room, closing the door behind him. He remembered his words to McGee on his wedding day – "Just breathe." He suddenly flashed to a time not long ago, when Abby had hugged him fiercely, almost distraught that a faulty test she performed years ago had imprisoned an innocent man.

"Why do I feel like … like I can't breathe?"

Now it was Gibbs who struggled to take in air as he walked into the chilled room. Letting out a shallow breath, he looked around. Black flowers adorned almost every corner. The photographs made his heart ache. He winced as he caught a glimpse of the chestnut wood.

"Abbs…" he sighed in a shaky voice, forcing himself to move forward. His shoes were shined, his suit a charcoal black, his white shirt pressed perfectly. His hair was combed into a part on the side, the slicked-back silver neatly trimmed but still longer than usual. His badge hung tight on his belt, a black band across it in honor of her. She wasn't an agent, but it didn't matter. She was family.

When he could walk no further, Gibbs stood at attention, forcing himself to look down at the sight below. Her clothing was nothing unusual from her daily routine – her favorite black dress adorned by the rosary around her neck. Her hair was up in pigtails, the makeup giving a false flush on her cheeks. Eyes closed, it seemed almost as if she was sleeping, he thought. Hell, she'd slept in that coffin for nearly two decades – it was only fitting that it be her final resting place.

"You have no idea how much I wish it was yesterday …"

Her words to him in his basement eight years ago echoed back, haunting him. Seeing her stillness – and its permanence – caused him to drop to his knees on the kneeler below.

"I know … I know you were trying to save me," he started, having trouble finding his voice.

Gibbs closed his eyes, pulling the badge from his belt, caressing it gently. It was his life, but he didn't want it anymore.

"Yours now," he whispered, placing the gold shield gently under her clasped hands. He ran his calloused fingers over hers, looking to feel her warmth one last time. The coldness he was met with sent a chill down his spine.

"Why'd you go and do that?" he whispered, his stony exterior beginning to crack. "Why'd you go and risk your life? You shouldn't have … why'd you have to…" He trailed off as he thought of her words from another time when she had been willing to risk her career – and her life - for him.

"You're Gibbs. I owe you everything. I am willing to do anything for you."

He could still see the desperation in her eyes as she'd looked at him that day, and despite seeing him for what he was – a killer – sought to protect him anyway. It scared him then … it broke his heart now.

And then there was Paraguay. It had all come crashing down after his return from those three long months in captivity. He avoided her, out of shame or guilt he didn't know. They'd drifted apart. And then Sloane entered his life. He befriended her, took an interest … then he broke Rule 12. Again. All the while, he'd been missing the signs.

"Never meant to hurt you," he whispered, running his fingers lightly across her cheek.

It had all happened so fast. Abby caught his eye in the parking garage as she was about to get into her car and head home for the evening. She called his name and his chest tightened. As she walked to meet him by his truck, he looked down, almost afraid of what she would say after months of silence. He'd kept their conversations short and limited to a phone call or video chat about the latest case. They'd occasionally pass each other in halls or the bullpen, but never said more than a few words. He knew she was trying to respect his space, even though it was breaking her heart.

Gibbs could feel Abby's stare as she approached, and he finally relented, looking up. It was the first time he'd really seen her in months. She looked pale, tired, and sad. He braced himself, waiting for the anger to pour out of her.

"I miss you."

He was shocked by her gentleness. She missed him, and he couldn't find words to reply.

"I love you."

She loved him, and still he remained silent and stoic.

"Just tell me what I did to deserve this."

She hadn't done anything. It was all his own doing, his insecurities, his guilt. But he didn't tell her that either.

"Gibbs…"

It was the last thing she said before the chaos took hold. He saw her eyes widen, felt a presence from behind. Then a scream as he was pushed to the ground. A Hispanic man dressed in black pointed his weapon at Gibbs, who was now lying on the ground. The barrel of the gun looked a mile long. Instinctively, he reached for his own weapon, despite knowing it probably wouldn't matter. The assailant kicked him in the face as he reached back, and in that split second Gibbs heard a shot ring out. When he felt nothing, he looked up in shock, weapon in hand.

"Stupid bitch."

Gibbs winced at the sound of the assailant's harsh words and his heart dropped as he realized what had happened. Abby was lying on top of his attacker, who forcefully shoved her off his body. He saw the blood, he saw Abby's eyes, glazed over and frightened.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Gibbs emptied his clip into the assailant without a thought, watching him fall lifeless to the ground. He followed procedure out of habit, moving to the dead man and kicking away his gun, making sure he was no longer a threat. Then his attention shifted four feet to the left.

"Abby…"

He rushed to cover her wound, but knew it wouldn't matter.

"Just breath…Just keep breathing…"

He wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her he'd been hiding from her all this time because he was afraid – afraid he had failed her when he was captured back in Paraguay, and brought McGee down with him. He wanted to tell her he loved her – that he always would. But the words caught in his throat.

"Just keep breathing…"

It's all he could say as she looked into his eyes one last time and let out her final breath. Her own eyes remained hauntingly open yet distant. He knew she was gone.

"No ... please … no…"

Gibbs' gut churned and he turned away, emptying his stomach on the pavement. Shocked and ashamed, he wiped his mouth angrily, crawling back to her body. It had to be a nightmare, he thought. He would wake up any minute, and he would call her, make things right …

But as the seconds turned into minutes, Gibbs realized he was wide awake. Closing her eyes gently, unable to look at her face, he turned away, catching a glimpse of an envelope that stuck out of her coat pocket. He knew it was a crime scene, knew he shouldn't tamper, but this was Abby, and he needed to know.

"What…"

The envelope was addressed to NCIS Director Leon Vance. He didn't need to open it to know what was inside. But he did anyway. It was a letter of resignation.

"No…no…"

In anger, without thinking, he crumpled the paper and threw it. How long had she been carrying it around, he wondered. It was a mere four lines, with no explanation, but Gibbs knew he was at least partly to blame. She loved her job, was one of the top in her field, and had turned down plenty of other offers over the years. He knew what a difficult decision that must've been – one she was obviously still debating. Maybe that's why she'd come to him – to find a reason to stay.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he stood up and removed his jacket, placing it over Abby's body. The rest of the night – and the four days that followed – were a blur.

He'd called it in to Vance and watched as the team processed the scene in silent devastation. Though he made sure one piece of evidence never saw the light of day. Not wanting the team to know that Abby would ever consider leaving – realizing it would only add to their pain - he found the letter and placed it in his pocket, allowing it to become his own private torment.

He'd glared through the state prison's two-way glass as McGee and Torres confronted the man who had put out the hit on him – Javier Martinez, former head of La Vida Mala. Martinez had tried to kill a little girl – Elena - and her father, Jose Ruiz, who were trying to escape the horrors of San Salvador. He had smugly arrested Martinez in a church, confident that he had him dead to rights with Ruiz's testimony. As Gibbs listened to Martinez ramble about the long reach of La Vida Mala, he lost control. Gibbs dislocated his shoulder in a fit of rage as he barged into the interrogation room, throttling Martinez until McGee and Torres pulled him off.

He'd gone home to a house that somehow felt even emptier than before. He'd sat on his couch, unable to cry or grieve. After a day went by, Sloane visited, but he refused to speak. Instead, he'd slept with her, but felt no relief. He'd gotten drunk in his basement and passed out for half a day under his nearly finished boat. That's where Kyle and Luca had found him, pulled him out and begged him to honor their sister's memory.

And now he stood at her coffin in disbelief. She was gone. And he was left. Left with no way to make things right. His own resignation letter sat in his breast pocket, ready to be delivered upon his return to D.C.

"Just tell me what I did to deserve this. Gibbs..."

He couldn't stop the words from reverberating in his mind. All she had done was love him. And what had it gotten her?

"Should've been me," he whispered, leaning in close. "I was supposed to keep you safe … you didn't deserve this."

Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, Gibbs was suddenly struck by the quiet. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been in the same room with her and been met with such utter silence. In that moment, his mind began to process what he lost.

For the first time since he buried Shannon and Kelly, Gibbs found himself unable to hold off his grief. He shut his eyes tight, resting his head on the edge of the coffin, and began to sob. It was so unfamiliar to him, so shocking, this storm of emotion that he normally never let take full hold of him. But now he couldn't gain control. He had always been the strong one, but now he had no one to be strong for.

Outside the door, Abby's brothers could hear Gibbs' sobs and looked at one another.

"Think we should check on him?" Kyle asked in a worried tone.

Luca shook his head. "Give him a few minutes."

Kyle pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it gently.

"He needs to see this," Kyle sighed.

"I know," Luca replied, sitting on a couch nearby and removing his glasses to wipe his bloodshot eyes. "Give him a minute. Then we'll get to the hard part."

TO BE CONTINUED…