Love to share
by Caz
Rated K
Disclaimer is in force, so leave me be!
Everybody loves Abby. Her radiant smile has enough power to shatter grumpy moments and I love being around her. I love her confidence; her ability to soothe and replace bad thoughts with good, questions with answers and disquiet with peace.
It is a special place, to be within arms reach of Abby Scuito It is even more special to be within bodily reach of her, like I am, most of the time. I am special to her and she is, very, very special to me.
We met and collided at NCIS, and five years on, it still feels the same way when she's near me. Our lives are full. Even before we became more than we are we live every moment of the day and night as though they were our last, and nothing has changed now that we are together forever.
The team have become our family. Of course, they aren't the same as the long lost loyal friends that became so much more before they passed away, but gradually, this team are becoming as close to us as those. But even so, at the end of each day, when the days work was done, we can retire to our own home and be alone until the next day.
We were both happy, or so I thought.
If I'm honest, I know when it all started to go wrong. At first, it was just little things like, instead of snuggling up together on the couch and catching up with, either with the day, or the past, or even the future, now Abby would disappear to the bedroom, saying she was tired.
And then a little later, when I'd rise to join her, she'd get up and pass by me without a word and settle on the couch to stare at nothing with a faraway look in her eyes.
I tried to talk to her. I begged her to tell me what was eating away at her, but it was as though we were on opposite sides of a very tall wall. She very effectively tried to shut me out, and succeeded.
But not quite. You could not hide pain, no matter how gifted you were. My own pains were stuffed down into the deepest parts of my heart, releasing only a little to grieve along with her. But hers were hovering over her like a stormcloud.
Abby didn't seem to see that I was suffering too. At some point in our relationship, the ache that I shared with her had also taken root in my own heart and the pain that was gnawing away at Abby, was steadily worming its way through my body as well.
But I was the boss man and I could only let so much pain out of me, but it wasn't enough to tell Abby that I was in trouble too. Not having her beside me at night was beginning to tell. It kept me awake as I waited for sheer exhaustion to claim her and force her to succumb to our bed, and eventually my arms where I could do nothing more than hold her and wait for the day when she would find the courage to voice the longings that lay deep within her.
And then, finally, one day, she did.
***
I met her in the kitchen and our shared weary smile briefly lighting up at the thought of shutting the world out so that we could have a decent meal together and then hopefully stay friends long enough to maybe go to bed without tears showing us the way.
It was after she'd moved the dirty dishes to the sink and slid back into her seat to finish her coffee that I realised that it was my cue to begin whatever it was that needed beginning. "Abby?"
The cracked voice that whispered her name seemed to belong to a stranger. She looked over at me, the tears glistening on her long, black, sooty eyelashes.
The time had come, at last.
"Can we talk, Jethro?" she asked, her voice small and fragile. Suddenly afraid to trust my own voice, I only nodded, but I didn't want to do this conversation in the kitchen. I reached across and tugged her to her feet and led her to the lounge. She lowered herself to the couch and I sat down beside her. Turning my own body around so that I could see her face, my heart crumbled at seeing so much desolation shrouding her features.
"Talk to me, Abby." I asked, somehow, elated that the time had come to reveal our secrets, and scared witless at the same time about the same thing. It was a strange sensation, one that I guess neither of us were comfortable with. But it ahd to be done, for our own sanities.
I watched her swallow as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. I took the bull by the horns and made an assumption of my own, the same assumption that was causing me the same pain as I knew Abby was suffering from. "Was it the case that upset you?"
Tears that had momentarily stemmed, welled up again in those beautiful mossy green eyes and I hung my head, unable to meet her gaze, suddenly afraid that she would see those self, same longings that plagued her. But then, as quickly as I denied her the chance to see the real me, I decided to let her in and as I did, I watched her eyes widen with surprise, and then understanding.
"You're as lonely as I am, aren't you. Jethro?"
***
We'd never considered children up until recently. Until the case with the orphaned baby of a Navy couple that had been murdered. Watching the child be placed, 'into the welfare system' had broken all of our hearts, but not as much as it had broken Abby's. Getting to know, albeit it for a very brief time, little Kaylee, had irretrievably set in motion longings that up until that point had never entered our minds.
Until the day that Abby finally found the courage to confront our loneliness.
***
Through a gap of the door peeked a shard of light. It was four o'clock in the morning and I was wearing a hole in the lounge carpet again. But this time it was different. This time I'm not on my own.
In the bedroom Abby is stirring, getting ready to take over. And perched on my shoulder, there is a squawking, wriggling baby called Timmy, and he was ours.
A regurgitated splodge of his three a.m. feed landed on my shoulder and Timmy blows milky bubbles through a windy smile adding to the mess. I lovingly smile at him, uncaring and blissfully happy that he'd done that wonderful thing.
Abby had made a lot of sense finally, the day she had found the courage to tell me what I wanted to hear.
"We have love, Jethro, lots of it to share," She's said, nervously moving to my side and sitting beside me on the couch, the nearest she'd been to me for months. "And of course, we can rely on Tony and McGee and Ziva to help with baby sitiing." Abby went on carefully, taking my hand within her own and holding it against her heart.
"So how do you feel about us having a baby? I want a baby with you, Jethro." she'd finished, in a rush.
Gently I pulled her hand away from her body and kissed the fingertips, hoping that my tears would be enough to tell her how happy I felt. But they hadn't been enough.
"I'll understand if you don't feel able to love another child after losing Kelly." Her voice became very small. "I'll drop the whole silly idea if you..."
With my silence Abby's voice trailed away to nothing. Abby had taken my silence to mean that I wasn't interested. But nothing could be further from the truth.
"Abby," I'd whispered, "he wouldn't be Kelly, would he? He'd be ours."
"He?"
I raised my eyebrows finally allowing the half-smile to tug at my lips, my eyes dancing with happiness and relief. "Or she." I quickly emended.
And from that moment on, Abby and I were a team again, talking well into the night, making plans, making unguarded love and decisions that only a loving couple could make.
And now, gone are the days that ended with moonlit walks, only to be replaced with new days of parks and ponds complete with ducks to feed, as well as a new puppy to walk along beside our son.
