Prologue of Not All That Is Over Is Past, and sequel to Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost. By overwhelming votes, through poll and PMs and reviews, this one got precedence over both the other AR works I mean to finish at some point. I hope you all love it! As always, R&R.

"Do you think we'll ever see him again, boss?"

"I doubt it, Dinozzo. It doesn't seem like something he would do."

[six months later]

Abby yawned, rubbing a black gloved hand across her eyes as she struggled to pay attention to the shadowed road ahead despite the mostly-full large plastic cup of Caf-POW! situated on the passenger seat beside her. When the small car on the opposite side of the road had passed, she flicked her high beams back on. A glance at her gas levels informed her that she was going to need to make a stop relatively soon if she wanted to get back to work in the morning. Gibbs would not be happy if she was not on call at his every whim and murder.

Noticing a glimmer of light through the trees around the bend, she put her low beams back on, not noticing that there was only one beam instead of the two she should have been looking for. It was only when she was mere feet away that she grasped this fact and slammed on the breaks, bringing her bright red 1932 Ford Deuce Coupe* to a screeching halt. A flash of blond hair and thud followed, despite her quick reflexes.

"Oh God, I hit somebody!" she cried as she threw her door open and jumped out, tightly laced, knee-high black combat boots quietly tapping the ground. Racing around to the front, the first thing she saw illuminated by the truck's glaring beams was the large amount of blood. It was when the adrenaline calmed down two hours later and she regained her composure that she realized how little of it was on the front of her Ford.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God." The tall, rather heavy set blond male was sprawled on his back, no injuries visible except a nasty looking ankle, badly fractured, if not broken, and the dark stain of what could not have been confused for anything except blood spreading across his stomach in distinct splatters. They had been created by bullets, but all Abby noticed was the blood and his white, almost grey, skin tone. She put two fingers on his throat, biting down hysterics, and her free hand an inch above his mouth, trying to test for signs of life. There were none.

Standing unsteadily on shaking legs, and finally resigning to leaning against her car for support, she grabbed for the cell phone in her pocket as if it was a life saver in shark infested waters and hit the first speed dial programmed in. He was still in the office. Of course he was, because when the case was finished, he always stayed late to finish the paperwork even after impatiently shooing the rest of his groggy team off to the elevator.

Just as she thought, an exasperated and gruff voice answered, "Gibbs."

"Gibbs! I need help, and maybe an ambulance or something because when I was going home this guy just appeared in front of me and I hit the brakes really fast because I saw the light he was carrying, except I don't know where his flashlight went, which seems kinda weird, and now there's blood everywhere and I think he's dead, but he's really dead and I don't know what to do, Gibbs! What am I supposed to do, because it wasn't my fault, but it sort of was my fault, but—"

"Abbs, slow down and repeat. You hit someone and you think he's dead?" His tone didn't change, despite the immediate situation. Instead, it actually calmed to assess damages.

"No, I know he's dead. He isn't even breathing, but I couldn't have hit him that hard, because I always drive really slowly at night with these small roads and there are always animals jumping in the way, but I really did stop when—"

"Abbs. Slow. Down. I'll trace your number and drive out there. Just calm down and keep talking." There was the sound of papers and pencils being moved around in the background alongside the steady click of the mouse. "You mentioned a light?"

"Yeah, because I thought it was another car. That's why I turned my high beams off, but I don't see anything around here that wou…" The goth stopped as something curious caught her attention.

"Abbs? Something wrong?"

"No, I just…his lips were cold, so he's been dead for awhile. I didn't notice that before."

"All right, I have your location." The sound of the elevator's ding, and then the quiet opening of the twin metal doors echoed behind his voice. "Give me a couple minutes. If he's been dead, then someone else is there with you. Do you see anyone?"

Abby pulled her leather jacket securely around her thin frame, shivering despite the warmth of the spring night, searching the vicinity for the second person. "No, there's no one else here." As a quiet groan emanated from a spot just beyond the reach of her Ford's low beams, she quickly revised her statement. "Wait, I just heard something. What do I do, Gibbs? They could be hurt."

"No," he stressed. "Grab something to defend yourself. They were carrying a body with them, and I doubt it was necessarily out of goodwill. Don't go anywhere near them, Abbs."

"I don't really have anyth—"

"Then grab a branch or lock your doors. Just don't go—"

At that moment, a hand came into view on the pavement, blood staining the fingertips and what little of the palm she could see, a flashlight grasped securely in clenched fingers. Its partner followed after, red splatters less evident on this one but there nonetheless, along with another pained grunt as their owner dragged himself from the dirt lining the roadside. "Oh, that one's going to leave a mark," a surprisingly young voice remarked half-heartedly.

But it was when he crawled into view, flopping tiredly on to the cool pavement, and Gibbs worriedly demanded, "Abby? What's going on?" that she recognized him. Dark grey eyes met startled green ones.

"Alex?"

A/N: Wow, that went up faster than expected. Yet I still haven't found the heart to do my homework. *sweatdrop* Heh. But it is the weekend after all and you were all so nice to send me all sorts of messages. So…how did you like it? Sorry for the cliffy and short intro, but I wanted to post something before bed and I did the same thing to start Those Who Wander so…yeah. Excuses. Comments? Reviews?

*It's true, because Wikipedia says so.