GOODBYE
Rating: K
Pairing: Abby/Gibbs
Category: Angst/friendship
Spoilers: Swan Song / Pyramid
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. NCIS and its characters are the property of DPB and CBS. If I had a silver-haired, blue-eyed Marine to play with, do you think I'd have time for writing?
Summary: Abby watches Gibbs as he says a private goodbye to Mike Franks.
A/N: set in an established Gabby universe and from Abby's POV. Written for the Gibbs/Abby Shipper Forum weekly Creative Drive for the prompt 'Goodbye'. Thanks to Zivacentric, Bamacrush for their feedback and Sehrezad for help with the Arabic.
She watched him from afar… not wanting to disturb him.
She knew he needed privacy to say goodbye to his friend.
In front of witnesses, however much those friends were now his family, was not the place to say a proper goodbye.
And the stiff formality of the funeral, however much Mike deserved the honour of a proper military send-off, was not the place to be anything other than a straight-backed Marine.
He'd spent the past few days being the rock upon whom everyone else had clung in their grief.
Their anchor.
Tony had done his best to be strong for Ziva, for McGee… and even for her in his own way. Ducky had been his usual comforting, soothing self.. the calm centre of the storm. But it was Gibbs who'd kept everyone focused, first on the hunt for Ziva and then for Jimmy and Barrett, intent on finishing off the P2P killer before he could devastate more lives.
So he did what he always did… pushing down his own grief to focus on the task at hand. Burying it so far down that it would start to eat away at him eventually… like the cancer that had taken its toll on Mike.
And she knew that he would want to stay strong for Leyla and Amira. She was perhaps the only one who knew what that cost him each and every time.
Sometimes she wondered and feared how much grief and strain and loss one man could endure. How much one man could bear before he broke rather than bent under the pressure.
She'd left Leyla and Amira at the house after fixing them all a meal. She knew he'd eaten what she'd prepared mostly for her sake, to stave off her worry. She guessed he had an appointment with a bourbon bottle later… a toast as a tribute to his friend, as well as a way of numbing his grief.
She might join him later if he let her.
After dinner, he'd sat quietly next to Leyla. His goddaughter had crawled onto the couch and curled up on his lap. She felt her eyes sting with tears at the touching sight and had to head into the kitchen before they overwhelmed her.
He'd cradled both girls in his arms for a while, trying to give comfort in the only way he knew how, with his warm, solid presence. She knew how safe those arms and hands could make you feel.
Then he'd approached her where she stood clearing up before gently kissing her, saying that he had something he needed to do and left the house quietly.
She knew where he was going. She was headed there herself later.
She'd helped Leyla get Amira settled on the camp bed they'd put up in the living room. Leyla had refused the offer to take over their bed for herself and Amira, saying she preferred instead to sleep on the couch.
She waited in the house until she felt sure she'd given him enough of a head start. She didn't want to cut short his time with his friend. She didn't want to intrude on his time there alone.
Leaving Leyla sitting quietly on the couch reading stories to Amira, she'd eventually left the house too, intent on her own mission.
She had no idea how long Leyla wanted to stay, but both she and her daughter would be welcome to remain in the house she'd come to think of as her home for however long Leyla needed.
Amira was bewildered and hurt over the loss of her abuelito, her Jaddi and Leyla was exhausted, her usually warm beautiful eyes red rimmed and dull with grief. She'd lost not only her suegro, her Ham but her protector… her anchor. She'd lost a physical reminder in his features of her beloved Liam. A link to his son that she could see every day was now gone.
It didn't matter that they'd all had months to mentally prepare for Mike's death.
It didn't matter that they'd all come to terms with it in some way by now.
The suddenness of him being ripped from them and the violence of it was like a raw wound that just kept on bleeding. The only comfort for them all was that it was a death that Mike himself would have chosen… one she suspected they would all have chosen for him, if they'd been given a choice.
Anything rather than the lingering, horrible, painful end which had been meted out to him.
If Mike could have planned his death, she thought with a fond smile, then a last fight with a bad guy would have been fairly near the top of the list… probably right up there with being loved to death by a roomful of naked women…. or going out with a bottle of bourbon in his hand.
When she'd heard the circumstances of Mike's death, in the midst of her overwhelming grief she couldn't help a stray thought about how right it sounded.
At the time he'd confronted Cobb in the street outside her home, Mike would have had no way of knowing that the P2P killer wasn't there to kill but merely to observe. All Mike would have seen was a killer waiting outside the home of two people he loved.
She agreed with Ducky that Mike was bound to have confronted Cobb.
One last fight.
She suspected that his main motivation would have been a last chance to protect the man who'd become like a son to him and to protect her... she knew Mike saw her as an honorary daughter-in-law.
He was defending his family.
He was trying to save his boy.
He was protecting his Probie.
It was indeed a fitting swan song. She guessed Mike wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
Part of her grief was also for the man she lived with… a man she loves… a man she shares her life with... the man she would try and shield from anything that would cause him pain.
She worried for him over the guilt that she sensed was eating away at him right now. He was bound to be thinking that if he hadn't called Mike to DC, he might still be alive.
Alive… but dying.
When she saw that guilt surface, she knew she would have to tackle it head on. Try and make him see that the fates had given Mike the opportunity for another death… one he would have preferred.
She knew he realized that in his heart and mind… but she also knew how good he was at taking every possible burden onto his own shoulders. She hoped his sorrow would eventually lessen and he'd come to accept that Mike's death had been apposite... once he could get past the anguish of losing his own rock… his own anchor.
While everyone else in his life naturally gravitated towards him, relied on him, used his strength, looked to him for guidance and leaned on him, he had very few people he depended on.
She liked to think that she was now one of them.
Ducky was another. His friendship with the Scotsman went back years and he was one of the few people in his everyday life who knew him so well, who could see beyond the mask he presented to the world and could read him with ease.
But Mike had been there for him almost as a surrogate father for close on twenty years. He'd met Mike at the worst time in his life and they'd formed a bond which had only grown stronger over the years.
His boss.
His mentor.
His friend.
Mike was the man he'd gone to in times of crisis… a man he loved and cared for, looked up to and trusted above all others. And Mike had come through for him every single time.
Admittedly, he'd pulled his old boss's ass out of the fire on a few occasions but it in no way evened out the debt he owed Mike.
So she knew that his grief would still be fresh for some time. They'd had precious little time to do anything other than cling to each other during the night in their own grief before Ziva had vanished.
Pressure had been piled on pressure as they struggled to focus on their jobs. She'd even begged him with her eyes in her lab not to comfort her as they hunted for Ziva… knowing that the minute she felt his arms around her, it would be her undoing and above all she needed to focus on her job. He seemed to sense it, as he always did and left her with a soft kiss instead.
Later at the funeral, she'd mostly held it together until she'd seen the cortege approaching. The tears had started to slide at the sight of him helping to carry the body of his friend in the coffin he'd made.
A coffin he'd built to honour his friend.
A final send-off to the man who'd taught him everything.
It was a work of art. Mike would have been proud. Another regret to heap on all the rest was that he never got the chance to see it. His time in the basement had been too brief for Mike to see the results of such craftsmanship.
A coffin she'd seen take shape in their basement.
A coffin she herself helped to make… long hours helping to sand and varnish while she watched him carve, absorbed as always in the way his strong hands formed such delicate and intricate detail.
Some nights neither could continue and they'd broken off their work to just hold each other… taking comfort in the other's presence. It was a kind of joint acceptance and a working through of grief for a friend whose time was limited.
And it hurt like hell.
She'd loved Mike. And she would miss him.
He'd been a friend for years and they'd developed a close relationship.
She would miss that craggy face with the mischievous smile and the twinkling eyes. She would give anything to hear that deep, rough voice and experience his cheeky flirting again. She would miss his outrageous comments and the jokes that always had them rolling their eyes while spluttering with laughter.
At least she'd got to see him before the end.
She'd been shocked but not surprised at how sick he looked as he came out of the elevator, but hoped it didn't show too much on her face as she'd thrown her arms around him. She was determined to spend as much time with him as possible and had clung to his arm in the bullpen as he flirted with Ziva and bantered with the boys.
The last time she'd seen him was before Mike headed back to the house and he'd popped into the lab. He'd hugged her, making her promise to be home as soon as she could so she could cook him dinner. She'd snorted at that and whacked his arm… the deep chuckle and saucy grin he threw her over his shoulder as he left being the last view she had of him.
It was not a bad image to remember Mike by…
A better one than the man in front of her would be carrying in his memory right now.
She'd heard from Ducky how he'd found him kneeling in the rain at Mike's side, cradling his friend's body, his mentor's blood staining his sweatshirt. Would he ever be able to drive past that spot, right outside the house, and not remember that moment?
So she stood in the gathering dusk and waited until she felt she could approach. She wanted to say her own goodbye to Mike but she didn't want to rush him. She watched as he stood, head bowed at the graveside… unsure for the first time if she'd be welcome.
She wondered if he knew she was there… His quiet rough voice broke into her reverie. "Hey, Abbs." Of course he knew.
"Hey, Gibbs. I just came to say goodbye to Mike but I don't want to disturb you." She approached tentatively to stand at his side, comforted beyond words when his hand reached over to curl around her fingers.
She looked up at him, seeing tears in his eyes which reflected her own, the grief and anguish plain to see but a small smile hovering at her words.
She was touched that he would let her see him at this vulnerable moment. She was relieved he didn't look angry that she'd broken into his private grief.
She stepped closer, still holding his hand and leaned her head on his shoulder… and after a moment he tilted his head to rest it on hers. It was a small gesture that moved her immeasurably… and symbolised a whole lot more.
They stood quietly together for an age as the twilight fell around them, taking comfort from each other. She eventually heard him sigh and he shifted to wrap an arm around her shoulders.
"Let's go home, Abbs."
A/N: gonna miss Mike and miss Muse's portrayal of him...