Abby called Dorneget and asked him to order two breakfasts, one large cup of coffee– black, strong, without sugar – and a Caf-Pow! for her. She didn't give any explanations. Gibbs had lost a lot of weight since she had last seen him. He didn't look like someone who didn't eat at all, but he definitely didn't eat enough either. Her heart ached from seeing him in that state.

Gibbs looked at her, mesmerized. "Are you an angel?" he whispered. "Am I dead? Are you my guardian angel taking me to Heaven?... are you Death?" he added after a moment of pensiveness.

Abby stopped dead in her tracks. "What? Why do you say that?" she inquired.

"It's just that… You're so beautiful. I've dreamt about you for as long as I can remember, and now you show up in person and pick me up… Me, a homeless man without a name, with your skulls and your parasol, taking me who knows where in a hearse…"

She could tell he wasn't flirting, or even trying to pay her a compliment. He seemed to be simply stating facts, sincerely believing every word that came out of his mouth, and although his voice was calm and raspy just as she remembered, his blue eyes betrayed a mix of hope, curiosity and, to be honest, a little bit of panic as well. She couldn't believe he was scared of her.

"Uhh… no, we're human, and we're pretty much alive!" Abby reassured him. "In fact, we're going to where your life is… hopefully…" Even though she was sure this man next to her was her Gibbs and he seemed to have some unconscious recollection of her, until a DNA test could confirm it, there was always the possibility of him not being the one she had been looking for. "Do you remember anything? Anything about your life at all?"

"No," the bum replied sadly. "All I remember is waking up in the middle of nowhere. I was hungry, thirsty, with one hell of a headache too. I think I was bleeding or something. I walked until I found a small town. I drank some water, ate some soup a lady gave me, been walking ever since."

"And drawing" Abby pointed out. "I didn't know you drew, you never did that when…" She reined herself in. She had to remind herself not to get her hopes up just yet. It was true, however. While his works were no Rembrandts, they did display the qualities of something made by a person with talented hands, which Gibbs was. She figured that a carpenter/sniper being to turn his thoughts into hand-drawn images wasn't much of a stretch.

"Paper and coal are easy to find on the streets. A lot of stuff is easy to find on the streets. I just need this to make bucks for some food, water, beer, a bed sometimes… all I need. I don't beg. Ever."

"Now that sounds like you," she chuckled, and he thought he had seen her doing just that in one of his dreams. It was a comforting now as it had been then, it was the reason he didn't like to wake up early or go to sleep late. "So," Abby continued. "The streets have a lot to offer… I see…have you tried any of those things?"

"No. They've offered me everything. Every dust, plant, happy pill, women, men…" Gibbs retorted, and a resentful tone took possession of his voice. "All they sell is shit to make you forget. I already forgot, I don't need that. I need to remember, or to be left alone. I mean, not you lady, them. I mean them," he rushed to clarify.

Abby was as relieved as she was heartbroken by what he told her, and the way he did. As they reached their destination, she cupped his cheek for a moment.

"I really hope I can help you do that"

"And what if I'm not your guy after all?"

"You are." She swallowed hard. "But if you're not, I'll help you anyway".