Apologies, as usual, for my absence. I've been working. I've been sick. I'm working on a crapload of projects. There was Dragon*Con. I'm launching a Kickstarter for my webseries. All true, all excuses. But! I'm back! And I have no intentions of abandoning this story. Not only will it haunt me if I do, but I've got another NCIS story, the start of a series, on the back-burner, and I'm super-excited for it, but I promised myself I'd finish my other stuff first.
As far as timeline goes, this story pretty much takes off into its own universe, but would start somewhere in Season 9. And after having seen the opener for Season 10, I can't wait to dive into the fics I promised myself as a treat after I finished this chapter!
For the follows, favorites, and reviews – THANK YOU. I apologize to anyone who left a review that I didn't get back to personally.
Tim had a tendency to fidget with his electronic devices when he was anxious, so when he wasn't texting Luca with updates – a lot of "nothing yet" – he flipped through his photo gallery. He backed it up to his computer's hard drive regularly, but he always kept his favorites on the phone. A picture he'd snapped of Gibbs on the sly, checking his email as he sipped his coffee. There was nothing particularly artistic about the photo, other than that it was a moment in time, a slice of every day. Tony and Ziva, being silly when they thought Gibbs wasn't looking. Jimmy, trying to be suave and failing miserably. Abby, in her lab. Abby, hair down, showing off her latest dress from Hell Bunny's goth design collection. Abby, down on all fours and playing with a litter of puppies, laughing as they licked her face. There were a lot of pictures of Abby, and they all exuded vibrancy and life.
So many people assumed "Goth" meant devil worship, and they were often shocked to find Abby's Catholic roots ran deep. Others just took her obsession with the darkness in the world to mean she was deeply emotionally disturbed. They never got to know the real Abby, who loved puppies, music, her friends, family, and science. Tim had no idea if Abby's attacker was a radical religious freak who felt Goths were a threat or if he was just some random, obsessed person. Or worse, if he had attacked her for sport, the way Sophie Lancaster had been. It had been nearly five years, and Tim still recalled the way Abby had sobbed in his arms when she heard the news. She hadn't known Sophie personally, but she was a part of the community, and for Abby, that was more than enough.
Tim at first tried to clear thoughts of Sophie from his mind, because he couldn't bear to think of Abby dying for her freedom of expression. But then, it made him think. He called up an Internet search on his phone, sighing in frustration as it produced results.
"Whatcha doin'?" Tony asked casually, in a tone he'd probably have meant to be annoying any other day.
"Sophie's Law," Tim replied automatically, further refining his search. "It never got to Parliament in the UK, but I'm looking to see if there's anything similar in the US."
"Whose law?" Ziva asked, leaning forward.
"Sophie Lancaster was a Goth girl who was attacked and killed in the UK in 2007," Tim explained. "Her family tried to officially add Goths to the groups protected under hate crime legislation. It got a lot of attention, but it never passed." According to his research – which included several well-known legal code resources – it hadn't been addressed in the States, either. "I want something to slam this guy with."
Gibbs put a hand on Tim's shoulder. "We all do. Don't worry – legislation or not, he'll see justice."
Tim nodded, highly suspecting that "justice" included a meeting with the business end of Gibbs' gun. For once, Tim was totally okay with that. Usually, Gibbs' solutions made Tim squirm a little, even once he was used to them, but he had no such reservations this time. Sometimes, society was just a little better off once someone was removed from it.
Ziva ran her hands over her face, making a frustrated noise. "How long has it been? Surely we should have heard something by now."
"Neurosurgery is always delicate," Ducky reminded them, "and the liver is a particularly vascular organ; surgery can be complex."
"So you're saying be patient?" Tony asked, more than a little skeptical. "Because I'm not feeling the patience right now."
"Nor am I," Ducky admitted. "However, as much as I would like an update, it will do no good to subject Abigail to a rushed procedure."
"Well, when you put it like that..." Tony sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair for a moment, then sat up, his expression taking on renewed vigor. "Come on, you guys. What are we stressing for? This is Abby. She's so hardcore, she sleeps in a coffin. Nothing's going to keep her down for long, right?"
It was grabbing at straws, but Tim would take it. Better than focusing on any of the other, disastrous, potential outcomes. "Yeah. She's gonna be fine."
Tony nodded. "Good. Glad that's settled." After a dramatic pause, Tony stole a sideways glance at Tim. "Would it be kind of suspect if I hugged you right now?"
Tim smiled wearily. At that point, he wasn't sure which of them needed the hug more, and he didn't care. "I think we can get away with it."
It had been a little over five hours since Abby had been taken into surgery, and though Ducky assured them that they were still within the expected time frame for such operations, Tim was more than a little relieved when a doctor stepped out to speak with them.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Holden." The woman smiled. "Are you all here for Ms. Sciuto?"
"Yes." Gibbs stepped forward. "How is she?"
"Critical, but stable," Holden said. "Her vitals are steady, and though she's sedated right now, she was breathing fairly well on her own before we put her on the ventilator for surgery."
"How long do you expect her to be on the ventilator?" Ducky asked.
Holden pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I'll be turning her care over to our intensive care specialist – it's really too early to say right now. But if her intracranial pressure stays stable and she doesn't suffer any unexpected complications, it could be as little as a few days. Right now, the most important thing is that her brain is allowed to rest so the swelling can go down and she can heal."
"Right," Ducky agreed. "What about the rest of her injuries?"
"We were able to repair the damage to her liver without needing to remove any of it," Holden answered, "so that's a positive. The lacerations to her back were shallow, so I predict most of them will heal without scarring."
Tim breathed a sigh of relief, not just at the hopeful prognosis. It was absurd to be concerned with cosmetics at this point, but he didn't want Abby to have to live with those hateful words branded into her skin. "When can we see her?"
"We'll be monitoring her in recovery for another hour," Holden said. "One of you can see her at a time, but only for five minutes. After she's admitted to our Trauma ICU, you'll be subject to their visitation policies. A nurse will be out in a few minutes to escort you to see her."
After Dr. Holden had said goodbye and retreated back down the hall, Tony frowned. "Five minutes? What is this, the Dark Ages of medicine?"
Ducky patted Tony's arm. "It's only for the first hour. The ICU's visiting hours are far more lenient."
"They'd better be," Gibbs grumbled. "McGee, why don't you take first watch?"
Tim really wanted to, but he didn't want to step on Gibbs' toes, even if Gibbs had been the one to offer. "Are you sure, Boss?"
"Would I have asked you if I wasn't sure?" Gibbs countered.
Tim nodded, knowing better than to question it any further. He really did need to see Abby, for his peace of mind, to know she was still fighting. He followed the nurse back wordlessly, nodding numbly at her when she told him to come to her with any questions. His sole focus was on Abby. She was still, paler than he'd ever seen, even when she'd dressed up as Sandman's Death for Halloween. Her head was wrapped in bandages, but her hair still poked around them. He'd read about hair-sparing neurosurgery in his idle, anxious web browsing, so he wasn't surprised, but it was nice to see. He'd always loved Abby's hair. He teased her whenever he looked closely and saw her blonde roots starting to show, but she'd sworn him to secrecy. She'd been dying her hair since she was thirteen anyway, and Tim thought the black actually suited her better.
Abby was never still, but now she was, heavy sedation dripping into one IV, replacement blood through another. The ventilator hissed every five seconds or so, providing another breath. Beyond the tape that held the tubing in place, Tim could see the bruises that were blooming across Abby's face. He clenched his fist, trying to stay calm for her sake. "Hey, Abby." He was hesitant to touch her, but the nurse had said it was okay, as long as he didn't disturb anything. The problem was, wires and tubing were everywhere. Tim finally settled for an untouched spot on her cheek, stroking it gently. "It's Tim. I'm here. We're all waiting for you. Luca's coming." The hiss of the ventilator provided a gentle balance to the high-pitched chirping of various monitors.
Tim knew his time was limited, so he leaned in close to Abby, telling her, "Keep fighting. Don't let this bastard win." He risked a gentle kiss to her forehead, and none of the monitors went haywire. "You've got lots of people who care about you, Abs. We're here." Though her friend Charity was still at the back of his mind – Metro PD had no trace of her yet – he didn't want to bring up anything that might upset Abby, so he didn't mention her. "I texted Carol – she's in Vancouver for a conference, but you probably knew that. She's getting on a flight as soon as her last lecture's over." When Abby regained consciousness, she was going to be met with a wave of love.
Too soon, Tim's five minutes were up, so he headed back to the waiting room and switched places with Gibbs. Tony and Ziva immediately moved to flank him.
"How is she?" Ziva asked.
"Quiet," Tim said. That was what had struck him the most. "But the monitors look good. I guess she's doing okay, considering." He pulled out his phone and texted Luca and Carol the latest update. Abby out of surgery. Stable. Sedated.
"Hey, that's just for now." Tony grinned, though it was a poor imitation of his usual mega-watt smile. "Take it from a guy who's had a tube shoved down his throat a few times, you've got to be on some good drugs to put up with that. She'll be running around and getting you to smuggle puppies in to her in no time."
A ghost of a smile played across Ducky's face. "Well, if you'd get one of her therapy trainees, you wouldn't have to smuggle the animal in at all."
"All right!" Tony held his hand out for a high-five, and Tim gave in. "There will be puppies."
Tim didn't doubt it would do wonders to cheer Abby up. Once she was awake, he'd call her friends at the training center. He was sure they would be happy to help, given how much work Abby had done for them. He closed his eyes for a minute, trying to sort out his thoughts, and exhaustion overtook him. He woke nearly twenty minutes later, with Ziva's jacket padding his head. When he tried to sit up, Tony eased him back.
"Go back to sleep, McDrowsy. It's been a long night. We'll wake you up when she's settled."
"Mmkay," Tim murmured, not yet awake enough to argue. He wanted to be alert and ready, but adrenaline had abandoned him entirely. He drifted back into a restless sleep, trusting his friends would watch out for Abby while he couldn't.
TBC!
