Chapter 4

Abby woke up in the dark, the rattling of a chain a cold reminder that she was still in danger. The air was cold, her breath a fog around her head. Slowly, careful to not make too much noise, she pushed herself into a sitting position, trying to absorb everything that had happened so far.

Looking around the room, she studied the furniture again. Somehow, Abby knew this bedroom, knew the arrangement of the furniture. She just couldn't figure out how. It was a bug in her mind, eating away at her curiosity and giving her something to focus on; something other than the situation she was in.

How long she had been a prisoner, Abby could no longer guess. A few days, a few weeks. Time had blurred together until she no longer knew night from day. The room she was kept in had no windows, no way for her to gauge time passing. She had a bed, a toilet and a chain. And time. Time to think. Time to mourn. Time to remember. Time to accept her fate.

Monotony ruled her life to the point she felt the four walls of her cement cage moving in on her. The only break in her day was when her captor came down to rain her rage down on Abby. Along her body were bruises and cuts, evidence of her treatment.

Abby believed in her friends, even in the dank hole she now lived in. She believed they would do whatever possible to rescue her. But how long could she hold out for them to find her? Would they find her or the remains of what she once was? She stopped her train of thought, knowing to not focus on the future. If she focused on the possibilities of what may happen, she put her sanity at risk. Instead, she lived in her mind and in the past, in her memories of them, of all the people she loved.

Her parents and brother would visit her, signing and laughing together. They would talk about summer trips and experiments Abby would perform on her brother. She would sign how much she loved and missed them, thankful that the chain was only around her ankle and not her hands. A small smile would form when her little brother would tease her about how she was no longer trying to escape. And her heart would break as she would have to tell them what her captor had done to her the last time she made it through the door alone. Her back still ached from the lashings. It served as her reminder of why she didn't try to escape anymore.

The team would visit her most often; Kate, Tony and McGee. Sometimes together, sometimes in pairs, sometimes alone. She loved those times. They were her soul-mates, she would tell them. The ones she was supposed to have in her life always.

McGee would stand next to her, talking about his latest conquest online, about a girl he was talking to, about how Tony wouldn't stop picking on him. But Abby knew that he really liked the attention, as much as Tony liked getting slapped on the back of the head by Gibbs.

Kate would hold her hand, and they'd talk. They shared memories of girl's night outs, spa weekends, and playing tricks on Tony. She was always sad and clingy when Kate came around, almost like she was the one in danger, not Abby.

Tony would put his arm around her shoulders and run his fingers through her hair. He'd always be the one to comfort her when she cried, when she was too weak no matter how hard she tried to be strong. He told her that she had to hang on, just a little while longer, that they were coming for her, that she just had to wait for Gibbs to find her. But it hurt too much for Abby to believe that anymore.

Sometimes, after the team had gone, there'd be a woman she didn't know. Abby couldn't see her face since she always stood in the shadows. But the unknown woman had dark wavy hair – the lamp on the bedside table lit the edges like fire – and she always wore cargo pants. Abby never understood who the woman was, or what she might represent, but was comforted by the stranger's presence, like she was protected somehow.

The visits that hurt the worst, the ones that she both feared and craved, were when Gibbs came to her. Her heart would ache when his sad blue eyes met hers. Gibbs always seemed so sad, unless he smiled. Then his eyes would light up. But when he came to see her, he never had a smile on his face. He blamed himself for her kidnapping. And even though he was only a hallucination born of deprivation, Abby soul yearned to reach out and comfort him.

They rarely spoke; she didn't want cheap words to invade their space, unable to adequately express what she was feeling. Instead, he would sit next to her on the bed and gather her close, his arms tight around her. She loved to nuzzle into his neck, seeking a warmth that was absent from both her prison and her soul. Sometimes, hot tears would trail down her cheeks and onto his skin. His lips would press against her temple and cheek as he murmured reassurances that he was coming for her. It only made her cry more and ache for something else.

She had a lot of time to think, locked away like she was. And she'd come to some conclusions about her life. She wanted to travel more. She had a mission to learn all of the ingredients in Caf-Pow! And most of all, she loved Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Not in the we're–colleagues-and-friends-and-love-spending-time-with-you way. No, the biggest thing she learned about herself was that she was in love with Gibbs in a head-over-heels-can't-get-enough-crave-the-sight-and-feel-of-you kind of way. She didn't know when or how it had happened, but somewhere along the way, she'd given her heart to him.

That was the one thing Abby talked about to hallucination-Gibbs. She talked to him about how she felt, how her body was tuned in with his, how she treasured the moments they'd had together, how special he made her feel. Hallucination-Gibbs would tell her the same, but the feelings always made her feel bittersweet. It really wasn't Gibbs telling her he wanted her; it was simply her imagination giving her what she wanted to hear. Which was why Abby hated the times Gibbs showed up. It only broke her heart to shattered bits when he left.

Hearing a noise at the door, Abby scrambled up to the top of the bed, knowing the visitor wasn't going to be a friend this time, wasn't going to be a figment of her fractured imagination. This visitor was real.

Her abductor was coming back.

It was a position he always seemed to find himself when waiting on a big case, standing in front of the plasma, coffee in hand. Only, he wasn't reviewing evidence or waiting for an update from one of his agents. This time, he was staring at the video of Abby, the last sighting of her before being abducted. And they knew now she'd been taken against her will.

Somehow, when Abby had been setting the lab's alarm for the quarantine and leaving the bizarre voicemail message that had tipped him off to something being wrong, his girl had set the webcam on her computer to record. And though they didn't have a great shot of the kidnapper's face, the gun pointing at Abby was clear in the screen.

Seeing a weapon trained on her had drained the color from his face the first time he'd watched the video. Now, it only served to fuel the fire in his gut. No one was supposed to threaten her like that. Abby should be safe in the lab, surrounded by her equipment and fingerprints, evidence and blood patterns, not held prisoner somewhere. She was still being held, that much Gibbs was sure of. It had been five days, three hours and twenty-seven minutes since Abby had disappeared. He refused to believe she was dead. He would know in his gut if she was gone. No, she was somewhere, scared, but alive. Waiting.

So, he watched the video feed she had managed to capture during her abduction, watched her face, strained with fear, and tried to find a way to locate her. Turning his gaze away from the plasma for a moment, Gibbs looked over his team. Kate was running up a profile of possible suspects, using the partial shot of the perp's face to try and form a sketch. Tony was working the phones, and McGee was tracking phone and electronic connections.

Gibbs turned back to the screen, freezing the video on the largest shot of the kidnapper. He knew that face. Clenching his jaw, he faced the bullpen, barking out at his agents. "What do we have? Someone, give me something. We know this bastard," he growled, pointing behind him. "How?"

Tony jumped out of his seat and ran to his boss' side. "Well, we know it's not a suspect or a previous arrest; I've run through every picture trying to match the face. Boss…I don't think that's a man."

At this point, Kate had come up to join them, her head tilted as she considered the stilled frame in front of her. "You know, I think Tony may actually be right. The jaw line is strong, but soft, curvier than a man's would be." Without thinking, she grabbed the clicker from Gibbs' hand, missing the look of anger shooting from his eyes.

Zooming in on a section of the screen, she gestured with her other hand. "Look at this dark spot. Up until now, we always assumed it was a shadow…"

Before she could finish her thought, Gibbs interrupted her. "You assumed, Agent Todd? Is this a normal occurrence during the course of an investigation, or are you making a special consideration in the search for Abby?"

"Gibbs!" His outburst stunned her, and it took her a moment to find her thought process again. "I only meant…it's not a shadow. Look," she offered, trying to draw his attention to the screen and away from shooting fire at her. "This looks like the end of a ponytail. See the curl? Tony's gotta be right. We're looking for a female suspect."

"A woman. A woman did this?"

Pointing at the agent who still remained in his desk, Gibbs bit out, "Run it, McGee. Every suspect, witness, agent, janitor, visitor, tourist, every single female who has come in contact with this agency, team, and Abby. Run it all. DiNozzo, Kate. Help him."

Like an explosion, the team jumped back into action, the two standing agents rushing to their desks. Playing the video again, Gibbs paused it on the last moment of Abby, his breath catching in his throat. "We're coming, Abbs. Just hold on." The clicks of keyboards and the drone of voices faded out until all he was focused on was her face. "I'm coming."