Title: The Edge (4)
Rating: T
Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Spoilers: Hiatus
Warnings: Talk of suicide.
Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS and DPB; no copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: I found time for another chapter! Yay! Thank you for all the nice reviews and inquiries about the story.
Abby suddenly realized she was getting smaller and smaller, the image of Gibbs on the roof seeming farther away with each second. "Don't leave me, Gibbs! Not again! No!"
"No!" she shouted, sitting up on the autopsy table. She glanced around her, fear growing rapidly. 'Where am I? What am I doing here?' Nothing seemed familiar, not even the faces of Ducky and Palmer as they hurried towards her. 'I have to get out of here.' It wasn't even really a thought, just a feeling. Controlled by the rising terror, she jumped off the table and ran for the exit, moving too fast for them to catch her. She looked up and down the hallway in confusion. Spotting the door to the stairwell, she opened it and ran upstairs taking the steps two at a time. She wasn't sure where she was headed, she just let her feet carry her.
One floor up took her to a place where she felt safer, although she couldn't have said why. She raced through the lab, past the temp forensic scientist, who stared at her quizzically. Then she locked herself in the ballistics lab, breathing heavily.
She didn't know what she was running from, but she knew there was only one way to be safe for good. With a practiced eye she scanned the shelves full of reference firearms, then located and loaded her favorite pistol.
Holmes in Security received a flurry of calls – first Ducky, who told him not to allow Abby to leave the building. Then Richie Litteken called from the lab. "Some strange woman just rushed in here and locked herself in the ballistics lab!" he yelped frantically. Glancing at Abby he saw the pistol in her hand and his voice rose about an octave. "She's got a gun!"
"Mayfield is on his way – stay out of sight until he gets there."
Cynthia was the third call Holmes received as he made his way down the stairs to the basement. Ducky had called Jen after speaking to Holmes. A few minutes later a group converged on the lab – Mayfield and Holmes, Ducky, Jenny, Gibbs, Tony, Ziva and McGee. The team members had seen Gibbs and the Director heading for the elevator and quickly caught on that something was happening with Abby.
Gibbs was the second to arrive after Mayfield, and to his shock he saw that Abby was not pointing the gun at the security officer but at herself. "Abby, you don't want to do that," Mayfield said in a calm, measured voice. "Put the gun down Abby. Tell us what's wrong and we'll help you."
Gibbs pushed him aside, knowing that Mayfield was unaware of the earlier events. "Abby, you're confused and upset," he said quietly. "I know it's been hard for you since I left. But this won't solve things."
Ducky could see that she didn't comprehend – her eyes were wild, darting from one person to the other, and she was shaking. "Jethro, she's not in her right mind," he whispered. "I don't think she knows what's going on."
"Ya think?" Gibbs' words were pure sarcasm, his fear and anger pushing to the surface.
"You're just going to upset her more. Let me talk to her."
Barely containing his fury, Gibbs allowed himself to be pulled back.
"Abigail, do you know who I am?" Ducky asked gently.
She didn't answer, just shrunk further into herself and pressed the butt of the gun more firmly against her throat.
"I'm Dr. Mallard; you've known me since you started working here. We're friends."
Her eyes stopped sliding back and forth, and she seemed to be trying to focus her eyes on him. In the background one of the machines beeped, and Richie unobtrusively retrieved a sheet of paper, which he passed to Ducky. The doctor glanced at it, his eyes widening when he saw the list of drugs: clonazepam, Prozac, Vicodin. All were well above therapeutic levels. "Abby, you are feeling confused because of the drugs you took. Do you remember taking them?"
She nodded just a bit, then closed her eyes, her finger twitching visibly on the trigger. Tony felt a wave of sickness that seemed to engulf him. He spoke up, the fear obvious in his voice. "Abby, please put the gun down. We don't want to lose you; you're too special, Abbs. Do it for me, Abby. Put down the gun."
For the first time her face showed recognition as she looked at him. "I don't know what's real anymore, Tony."
"I'm real, Abby. You know me, don't you? Put the gun down and we'll talk."
The hand holding the weapon relaxed a bit. "They scare me, Tony. Make them go away."
"Will you talk to me if they leave?" He held his breath as he waited for her answer.
"Yes," she whispered.
Tony motioned to the others to leave. "You'll have back-up," Holmes whispered as he left. Tony understood that the security officers would be right outside in the corridor if Abby tried to run again.
The others did not want to leave, but Mayfield and Holmes gently ushered them out.
Tony was still holding Abby's gaze, and when she began to lower the gun he let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Can I come in, Abbs?"
She unlocked the door, then fell into his arms as he entered. He kicked the gun as far away as possible and slowly lowered her to the floor, holding her tightly. "Oh, Abby..." he sighed.
Ragged sobs echoed in the small room, his shirt developed a wet spot, and Tony could feel tears running down his own cheeks. He was not one to cry easily, nor did he usually show his sensitive side. But this was Abby, who was like a sister to him, and she was in serious trouble. Could he find the right words to help her? Could he make her understand how important she was to all of them?
He kissed the top of her head and pressed his cheek against hers. Rubbing circles on her back with his palm, he murmured encouraging words. "It's okay, Abbs. I'm here. You're safe."
They sat on the floor for a long time while she cried, and Tony's left leg began to fall asleep, but he didn't mention it. Finally her breathing began to calm down and she became quiet. He thought maybe she was unconscious again, but she finally spoke and he had to laugh. "I could really use a Caf-Pow! right now," she stated longingly.
"Want me to get you one?" He started to stand up but she grabbed his arm tightly.
"No, no! Don't leave!" Her voice still held some of the fear she had expressed earlier.
"Okay," he agreed, sliding back to his former position. "Can I get someone else to bring it?"
She hesitated, then agreed.
He reached over to the phone and punched in the number of the director's office. "This is DiNozzo. I need a Caf-Pow! down here ASAP." He appeared to listen for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that'll work. We'll be waiting."
Less than five minutes later, the door to the lab opened, and Abby looked up, startled. When she saw Gibbs enter with a red and white cup, she began to shake violently, burying her head in Tony's jacket. "Tony," she said, her voice muffled and uncertain, "I see Gibbs. With my Caf-Pow! It can't be Gibbs, can it? I'm seeing things. Why am I seeing things?"
"You're not seeing things, Abby," he reassured her. "It's really him. He came back from Mexico to save you."
