A/N: I saw a post on the Gibbs/Abby Shippers Forum, where someone was talking about things that would make them stop reading a story. One thing mentioned was Abby being a self-harmer and/or suicidal. I wondered if I could write a story about Abby and self-harm that the person wouldn't hit the back button on, and this was born. I hope I have succeeded.

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Rating: T (for mentions of self-harm and adult themes)

Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. I am not making a profit from this work of fanfiction.

She always kept the scars well-hidden. It wasn't that she was ashamed. No, she didn't want people to treat her unfairly. She didn't want people to judge her present abilities on her past mistakes.

For one year of her life, when she was 20 years old, self-harm was the only way that she could express her pain. Knowing that DNA stands for deoxyribonucleic acid didn't necessarily mean that she possessed the vocabulary to be able to put her pain into words. Self-harm had acted as the translator.

Their first night together, a sharp intake of breath was the only indication that Gibbs had found the scars. Then his fingers were softly tracing each line, over and over again, as if reading Braille. She had stiffened when she knew that he knew, but slowly felt the tension leaving her body as his hands read her story. He kissed the marked skin of her hips and stomach, and then circled his arms around her, pulling her close to him in a tight hug. She began to apologise, but he pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips and told her that there was nothing to be sorry for. They lay in silence for a while, each sorting through their own thoughts.

"Why, Abbs?" he finally asked, finding her hand and interlacing their fingers.

She exhaled slowly. This was the question she always dreaded most. "When I was younger, I didn't always... I didn't know how to talk to people about my feelings. I could ramble endlessly about DNA and inheritance, and how mitochondrial DNA can be used to identify people when the chromosomal DNA is degraded and-"

"Abby," Gibbs warned, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"Sorry. I struggled to talk about my feelings and I discovered one day that it felt really good to hurt myself. I know that sounds like quite the paradox, but for a self-harmer it makes sense. I didn't know how to express my emotional hurt so I made myself experience physical hurt." Her voice shook slightly as she finished. "That's pretty much all there is to it."

Gibbs reached up and ran the back of his hand over her cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had managed to fall. "Something tells me that there is more to it than that, Abbs, but I can see it's hard to talk about. You can tell me some other time; when you're ready."

"You're not disappointed with me for doing it, or... or mad at me?"

"No, of course not. I'm grateful that you've been willing to share this with me."

Abby leaned forward to peck him on the lips before pulling back and looking into his eyes. "Well, I love you, Gibbs, why wouldn't I tell you what you want to know?" She grinned briefly at him, but then looked serious again. "Thank you for taking it so well though. Not everyone has been so understanding."

Gibbs' eyes softened, his heart going out to his girl at the thought of what she must have gone through in the past. Suddenly a little scared, he asked, "When last did you hurt yourself?"

"Oh I haven't, not for two decades now. This is something in my past, Gibbs. I know how to deal with it now, so it's not a problem anymore. Except when, you know, people find out about it for the first time. If my tattoos don't scare them away, this usually does..."

At these words, Gibbs growled and rolled her over, bringing his lips down to hers and kissing her insistently. Her moan and slightly slackened jaw was the only invitation he needed to deepen the kiss and tighten his hold on her.

After a few minutes he let her go and rested his forehead against hers. "I want you, Abby," he breathed heavily. "I'm not going anywhere, not gonna leave... Your scars don't change a damn thing about how I feel about you. You're still the same strong, beautiful person I kissed in the lab yesterday."

Abby laughed at the memory and couldn't resist lifting her head to grab another quick kiss from him.

"Nothing's gonna change, Abbs," he whispered.

And she was somewhat ashamed that she had ever thought anything would. She trusted this man with her life. She loved him. She wanted him. If she didn't, she would never have allowed him to shift the placement of his kisses from her cheeks to her lips; her neck... She whimpered and Gibbs looked at her with concern.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine, good, never been better," she hurriedly answered, placing her hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer to her.

He smiled and complied with her silent request, capturing her lips with his and telling her with his actions everything that she needed to hear.

Later, when the sun streamed in and lit up the two figures wrapped up in each other and the bedclothes, she wondered if life could get any better than this. She couldn't imagine anything sweeter than waking up next to the person she loved most in the whole world, knowing that he accepted her unconditionally and without judgement. Not even the biggest cup of Caf-Pow! could make her feel quite this alive.