Title: Dear Brother

Author: Wylie

Category: [Hc] [D] [A]

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship

Spoiler: Nope

Season: Not sure. Let's see, who gets involved and decide later... Ziva's in the team.

Rating: M (maybe)

A/N: Well yes. I'm kind of excited. This is my first story published in English. For every mistake you might find please blame my amazing beta reader laoisbabe. ;) Just kidding. (Please check out her ffs too, they're amazing!) Many many many many thanks to her for helping me!

Still not really sure how this story will end (just had the 1st chapter in my head and I needed to do something with it) but please let me say: It's not Gabby. They won't kiss or get married or things like that. Don't like, don't read.

But if you like the first chapter, please review and let me know if it's worth reading. I'd die for just one review!

~Wylie

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine. I do not make money with my ideas. All characters still belongs to CBS, I just borrow them and bring them back when I'm finished. I'm not sure if they will look a bit... „used" afterwards. Hope they don't mind. They sure will be okay.

Any similarities to dead or living persons are coincidental.

Summary: Gibbs gets an unexpected visit.

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Chapter 1

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It was shortly after 2:00 a.m. when he looked at the clock again after hours. He was so absorbed in his work that he hadn't noticed how someone had entered through the -as always- unlocked front door to his house. Dust swirled in the air as he blew the wood and freed it from the sawdust. With his hands he checked again to see, if the wood had to be further processed with sandpaper. Then he turned around to his workbench.

That was the moment when he became aware of a sound behind him. There was a reason that he hadn't replaced the creaking wooden landing of the stairs leading down to his basement. His intuition told him that this could be no one who wants to harm him, because then he would already have been dead. But there aren't many people who dared to enter his house at this time of night. When he had found the right tool, he turned towards the stairs and looked at the person standing there.

"Abbs.-" he noted, looking at her quizzically. "What's wrong?"

"Gibbs."

She squeezed out a tear-choked voice, but did not move an inch towards him.

It was quite dark where she stood and yet he didn't take long to realize why she was there. When he passed the lamp that hung over his boat so it no longer blinded him, he discovered the blood on Abby's dark clothes, her hands and face. Gibbs immediately put the tool aside and took the stairs two at a time to get to her.

"Abbs, what happened?" he asked with concern and exerted slight pressure on her shoulders so she sat on the steps.

She didn't seem to actually notice that as soon as she sat, Gibbs was looking for the cause of the blood and palpated her abdomen and back. It did not take long for him to find his hands and his sweater covered in blood from the examination and from Abby's hands which clung to his sweater.

"Abbs, what happened?" he asked again, but Abby didn't seem to be able to answer his question. Tears mingled with the sticky blood on her cheeks as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.

"He ... I ..."

"Who was that?" Gibbs asked, worried. He patted her head and found a small laceration, but it was far from explaining the huge amounts of blood on her clothes.

"Abby, you're hurt, what happened?" Gibbs sounded somewhat brusque. In a brief moment when her sobs lessened she finally brought out. "He wanted to kill me ...".

"Who?"

"I don't know. He stabbed Teddy..." she whimpered and clung trembling more tightly to his sweater.

Even though Gibbs didn't know who Teddy was, if it was a friend of Abby and she had tried to help him, it would at least explain the vast amounts of blood on her clothes.

"No one is going to hurt you here," Gibbs tried to reassure her. "You should first get out of those clothes."

As Abby made no attempt to agree or move, he waited a few moments before he finally stood up himself and pulled her gently up from the stair.

Once in the upper floor of the house, he took Abby to the bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the tub while he searched for towels and clothes and a trash bag for her belongings. When he came back to the bathroom, Abby sat still as a picture of misery on the edge of the tub and looked at her bloodied hands. Gibbs put the items on the toilet lid and took a moment to look at her closely. He still had no idea what Abby had witnessed that evening. He knew after years of experience out in the field and by his work as an investigator, that some things might look worse as they actually were. But the sight in front of him worried him. The usually lively forensic specialist of NCIS seemed anything but lively and cheerful right now. Gibbs wondered when he had last seen her like that. Had he EVER seen her like that? No. The strange feeling in his gut agreed. Never.

It was time to do something. After an exhausting week and a complicated murder case on the USS Abraham Lincoln it made him almost feeling sorry that he has to wake his team in the middle of the night. And yet every one of them were aware of what their job demanded of them sometimes. Especially when it came to the life of a colleague and friend. And Gibbs knew that.

"Do you think you can manage?" he asked gently. Abby nodded.

He closed the door behind him and went back to the basement, grabbed his cell phone and dialed Tony's number.

"Boss?" came the tired and confused-sounding voice of Tony quietly through the telephone. "Why are you still awake? What's going on?"

"There was a stabbing. Abby was injured and there's at least one dead. Find out where and when it took place tonight."

"Abby was injured? Is she okay?" Tony asked sounding worried and not that tired anymore.

"She's fine. I'll take care of her," Gibbs replied curtly. "Tell the others and let me know if there is anything new."

"Sure thing, Boss!"

Gibbs hung up and went to his bedroom to get himself some new clothes. When he walked past the bathroom, he paused and listened. Nothing could be heard. He hesitated briefly, but then thought of Abby's boots. To open the knee-high lacing would take longer than he needed to make a call- that was for sure.

After putting on a fresh sweater, he peered out the window into the darkness. He probably knew his surroundings better than anyone else in his neighbourhood. There was nothing unusual to be seen, but it was possible that Abby's tormentors had perhaps followed. He sighed and throw a glance at the swing he had attached to the tree in his backyard decades ago. Who would want her to die? Someone from their own ranks maybe? It would not be the first time, but he couldn't think of anyone who might hold a grudge against her. Her clothes suggested that she was at a party. Perhaps an unwanted admirer who refused to be ignored? No. Then Abby would at least know his name. His mind raced as long as he stood at the window, watching his surroundings.

When he looked at the clock after some time, during which he had boiled coffee and did some other things, he began to worry. Abby was already half an hour in the bathroom and he still heard nothing. He gently knocked on the door.

"Abby? Everything okay with you?"

He waited a few moments, but got no response. The strange feeling in his gut wouldn't go away easily.

"Abbs? I'm coming in now." He warned her and opened the door a crack.

Abby sat just there, where he had left her and stared ahead. Gibbs knelt before her to look her in the eyes.

"You wanted to shower."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I can't."

"Yes you can."

As he spoke, he began to open her boot lacings.

"Gibbs, what are you doing?" she asked softly.

"What does it look like?"

He finally seemed to get her full attention. Once he had taken off her boots, he looked at her quizzically.

"No. I can do the rest on my own." she murmured, but continued to just sit there.

"I'll give you 20 minutes. Then I want you standing in the living room showered and with fresh clothes on." he said and stood up. He waited until Abby nodded almost unnoticeable before he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He waited a moment, until he finally heard the faucet squeak moments later. Then he went down to the basement.

He didn't need much time to find the first aid box. It looked so dusty that one could assume that Gibbs has had it either a very long time or had never used it. He wiped the dust off and inspected the contents. Complete. As expected. With the box in hand he went back upstairs to the living room. He reached for his cup and took a long sip of coffee before he prepared the bandages and waited for Abby. Though he carried it with him he took his phone from his pocket and threw a glance on it. He didn't really expect that he might have missed a call from his team, but as long as he didn't trust that kind of technology, checking felt right.

.

Almost exactly 20 minutes later she entered the room. The USMC shirt and sweatpants were a great contrast to her usually tight-fitting clothes that hid rarely more than necessary. Her hair hung half-heartedly wiped in wet streaks down her head. She wore the hair ties around her wrists as usual when she didn't feel like wearing her rat tails- like Cate had called her hairstyle lovingly. Cate. How happy Abby was that she hadn't to watch Ari killing her back then. She never felt more relieved about that than on this night.

"Do you feel better now?" Gibbs asked, beckoning her to join him on the couch. She looked at the bandages and nodded.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Will you tell me now, what exactly happened?" he asked cautiously and turned her head toward him so that he could attend to the small laceration.

"I ... was at a party."

She swallowed.

"There was a guy who watched me the whole time I was there, I think. It was an odd feeling when I noticed him."

A shiver ran down her spine and she closed her eyes briefly at the thought of him. The small laceration on her forehead was burning.

"After some time he came over to me, and asked if I'm actually "THE Abby Sciuto from NCIS". It was so weird. Ow!"

Abby winced as Gibbs pressed an alcohol swab to the wound.

"The guy asked if he could buy me a drink."

Gibbs stuck a plaster on her forehead and looked at her expectantly. But she made no attempt to talk further.

"And? Did he?" Gibbs finally asked. Abby nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. She looked down as she went on.

"He said that he admired my work and wanted to go somewhere quieter to talk. So we went outside. The drink and the fresh air made me slightly dizzy and he pushed me further and further into a dark corner near the club. I tried to defend myself, but I could not. He hit me in the face ... or at least tried to. Teddy was immediately there to help me. I don't know how he noticed what was happening, but when...," she paused, her breath trembling. "When I realised what was going on, Teddy collapsed into my arms and I had been pushed down by his weight. There was blood just everywhere. I knew immediately that he was dead."

Abby closed eyes for a moment and tried to gather her thoughts unsuccessfully.

"The guy seemed to know so much about me... suddenly he was gone and the cops where by my side. I just didn't know where to go to, and ... "

Gibbs tried to calm Abby and embraced her.

"That bastard won't come near you again." he said calmly.

"He's killed one of my best friends. In front of me. I'm afraid that he will continue until he finally gets me. "

Gibbs pressed a kiss on her forehead.

"I saw the insane look in his eyes. What if he suddenly showed up here? But at least he doesn't know where I am. How did he know where I was a few hours ago...?"

He felt her sudden tension. That was exactly what Gibbs was wondering and it worried him too.

"You should go to bed, Abby. We'll talk later when you've had at least a bit of sleep."

Abby knew she should accept his offer and yet she enjoyed the warmth of his embrace so much in that moment that she didn't really wanted to get up.

"But I don't feel that tired."

She tried to protest but his glare told her that he would carry her to the guest room against her will if necessary.

"I know that it's always difficult in a situation like this to calm down and deal with it, especially when you don't know who wants to harm you. Remember the last guy who tried to kill you because you had to make a statement in court?"

Abby grinned slightly as she recalled the guy who cried like a girl when she zapped him with the taser.

"So don't worry about this guy. We'll get him."

Abby could imagine that their "family" already knew what had happened tonight, and that they were already trying to find the bastard. She had to admit that he was right.

"You're right." she sighed and wiped the wet traces of tears from her face.

Gibbs watched her as she left the room and then picked up his mobile.

"Hey, Boss." greeted Tony, who sounded not nearly as tired as before.

"What have you got?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

"Not much, Boss. I checked with my contacts at Metro PD. You would not believe what's happening on a Saturday, -"

"DiNozzo!"

"We have five possible crime scenes. It would help if you were able to ask Abby, where it happened. How is she?"

"She's asleep. She told me she'd been at a party before she came here."

"A party. Ok. Gothic, I guess. I'll take a look at the files when I'm in the office."

"We'll join you as soon as we can."

Gibbs hung up and made a tour through the house, checked that all windows and doors were locked. On the way, he took his spare 9mm out of hiding and his bedding out of the bedroom and went back to the living room. He placed the pillow and the blanket in the usual way on the couch and lay down. It has been years since he'd slept in his own bed. The first nights without Shannon back then were pure horror so he'd decided pretty quickly to sleep on the couch.

He weighed up the decision wether to sleep or not. He felt like he should stay awake to protect her. But despite his good intentions he fell asleep as soon as he had closed his eyes for just a second to gather his thoughts. But it was not long before he was woken by a noise right next to him. Instinctively, he pointed his 9mm in the direction from where the sound came. He didn't even let his eyes focus and identify the person.