My sincerest apologies for the almost year-long wait (God, has it really been that long?).

Hopefully this doesn't disappoint those of you who still want to read it. Thank-you to those who do. It means a lot to me.
I'll spare you my excuses and get on with it!

Disclaimer: Being sued is not one of my favorite activities.


A bolt of lightning split the sky in half, turning it white quicker than you could blink. But Tony wasn't blinking, he wasn't even moving. Was he paralyzed? Was-

"Abby." he choked.

Tony swallowed, wondering why the fuck he lived there, why didn't he live in a nice... one story house. The balcony was just like Monica's in Friends. He sympathized with the gang, always having to climb in and out of the window-

The window.

He forced himself to walk towards it, towards Abby, climbing carefully through it and stepping out into the rain.

"Abby?"

"Oh, hey Tony." Abby replied, as casually if he had just entered her lab, to find her standing in front of her computer- not his own eighth-floor balcony, to find her standing on the edge.

"Wh- I- what? Abby..."

Tony stepped towards her, and she moved her shoulders backwards. This caused her to sway, and Tony's stomach to lurch. "Abby, please get down."

"I'm fine."

"Do you not realise what you're doing?!"

"I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm dreaming." Abby informed him calmly. "It's alright. I knew there had to be an explanation for everything that's happened. Don't be scared. I'm not."

"Abby listen to me, come here right now. This is real, you are not dreaming, if you disappear from my sight I will lose you and I can't do that, please get down." Tony begged, his tears and rain running down his cheeks.

"I can't. I'm sorry." Abby smiled serenely, and turned.

As soon as she had, Tony darted as quick as the lightning towards her. He reached out and grabbed a handful of her flannel pajama pants.

It was just enough to change the direction of her fall.

He stared down at Abby, who groaned. "Abs." Tony finally breathed. He carried her inside, both soaking wet, wondering what to do next. He took her to his bedroom and placed her on the bed. Her normally porcelain skin was the whitest he'd ever seen it. Grabbing his cell phone from the bedside table he pressed 1 on his speed dial and then immediately flipped the phone shut. He wasn't going to call Gibbs this time, turn his responsibility over to his boss without a second thought. This was his second thought. His third was that he was shivering and more importantly, so was Abby, so he scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom.

"I'm going to run you a warm bath, okay?" He set her on the floor, away from his sink cabinet containing sharp objects, still wary of her intentions- and rightly so. He poured bath gel into the water under the faucet and when it was filled, he turned back.

"You gonna undress yourself or am I?" he asked, hoping it hadn't come out the wrong way.

She finally lifted her arms up like a child.

Tony gently removed her sweater and tank top. He saw three long, white scars on her stomach. And for the first time since he'd known her, he caught sight of what was normally covered by leather cuffs- a row of three neat scars running across each wrist.

Stunned, he helped her stand and get out of her pants so she was standing there in her underwear, wet hair dripping on the floor. It was then he saw the haphazard networks of scars crisscrossing her far upper thighs. Some were faded, others were more apparent, but the difference in comparison to her wrists and even her stomach was incredible- there was no order here, no pattern. It was chaotic.

Why hadn't it occurred to him that she'd done this long before Kate's death?

He helped her out of her underwear and into the tub, began to shampoo her hair. She didn't speak, or make any voluntary movements.

As he finished washing her hair she finally stopped shivering. He helped her out again, and wrapped her in a big, soft towel, drying her off.

Then he got her a shirt and a pair of sweatpants to wear and tucked her into his bed, turning the heat up a little so she wouldn't catch cold.

Climbing in beside her, he settled down and finally asked, "How long has this been happening?"

She traced the orderly pattern of blue, brown and cream stripes on his quilt cover with a finger for a long moment before finally replying, "Years." Sensing Tony wasn't yet satisfied; she added "I was fourteen."

"Fourteen? Jesus Christ, Abs."

"I was always the strange one, even when I was a kid. All of the girls I knew played with stuffed animals, but I had a detective kit. And when we all got Barbies? Forget fashion shows and tea parties, I'd have mini crime scenes goin' on, complete with my own customised dolls. My parents always wondered why we went through so much ketchup."

Tony smiled. He knew that when she was young, she used to sneak into the auto yard at night and look at all the wrecked cars.

"But the other kids never gave me a hard time. I chose to play my own games, and if that meant I was alone I rarely minded. I could have everything set up the way that I wanted it, and no-one ever wrecked my stuff, with the exception of my little brother. I would play for hours, even as I got older. And I played my music as loud as I wanted since my parents couldn't tick me off. I loved it. I was happy.

It wasn't 'til high school I started getting picked on. Apparently wearing Doc Martens on the first day was a bad move, as was the fact that I'd gotten my first job working in the local funeral home."

Abby took a deep breath. "After months of taunting and getting shoved into lockers by the popular girls, they invited me to one of their parties. Of course I was dumb and naive and thought it'd be the perfect opportunity to befriend them. I got dressed up like they always did, and went to the party. It was actually kind of fun at first. I got tipsy and was in the kitchen having a drink when one of the girls came in. She spoke to me about nothing in particular for a few minutes before saying, Abby, I really like you. I think I want to kiss you. And I was surprised, 'cause yeah, I'd thought about how pretty girls were before, but I'd never kissed one and thought it couldn't hurt to try. So I replied, I want to kiss you too, and I leaned in- when suddenly the door flew open and in ran the girls, laughing and screaming. One of them was holding a video camera. I ran home, straight to my room, and collapsed in hysterics. I wrapped a braided belt around my neck and pulled and pulled until all I saw was black with colored spots and I passed out on the floor.

When I went to school on Monday, with a red mark around my neck, I could hear everyone whispering and giggling as I went to my locker. Someone had scrawled "GOTH DYKE" across the door. I started to cry quietly and clean it off but the girl who'd tricked me appeared at my side, informing me that it was my label and it had to stay there. She shoved me back, and I hit my head on an open locker door. I remember the only thing that got me through everybody surrounding us, pointing and laughing, was the pain. I focused on it, pushed calmly through the crowd and walked out of school, again straight home and to my room, where I used a big sewing needle to scratch the word GOTH into one thigh and DYKE into the other.

For four years I was a social outcast. I had no true friends- but I believed that I'd found something a million times better. I'd cut my thighs constantly with anything I could get my hands on, occasionally I'd cut my wrists. I was careful to keep that neat, so I could cover it with wrist bands. At one point, I cut them both so bad they needed stitches, but I didn't get any. My parents never found out, I spend the night applying pressure and now looking back, I was lucky to live. They didn't heal well. And a few times I cut my stomach. Somehow it got me through school, I know it sounds cliche but it helped me feel like I had control over my life. I graduated, went to college- and I loved it, I knew I'd found my thing. Triple Major at LSU--Sociology, Criminology and Psychology. Graduated with full honors. Then I went on to earn my Master's Degree from Georgia State University in Criminology and Forensic Science. Graduated with honors. I worked in a bunch of labs before I applied at NCIS. I came here and I hadn't looked back... until I met Kate."


I struggled so long with the concept of her throwing her off the edge, but... no. Just no. Plus it would have had to be A/U & I'm not so good at that...

Anyways. I know I don't exactly deserve reviews, but I'll listen to anything you guys have to say. There are probably mistakes- I'm lying in bed, complete with a fever :\

Again I am sorry!

-Stace