Author's Note: Okay, so, the plan! Possibly a little melodramatic. Not sure, let me know if I came on a little strong! Thank you all for the lovely reviews, and for sticking with me. :)
What to do between now and six a.m.? Gibbs knows he should be sleeping, but although it's been almost twenty-four hours since he last rested, he can't relax. Instead, he heads out to his car and grabs Abby's casefile, complete with a hard copy of her online blog.
I made an entry just before Christmas last year…
Dosing himself with more coffee, he begins to search through the pages, starting with Christmas and working back.
December twenty-fourth. I'm so excited about Christmas! I always get this way – just like a little kid. Okay, maybe it's more caffeine-fuelled these days, but…
December nineteenth. Is it just me, or do less people get murdered in December than the rest of the year? Work has been so quiet…
December seventeenth. Earlier in the week he'd walked into the squad room to find Tony and McGee trying to pinpoint who this entry was about, an activity he'd curtailed by dealing out a couple of swift headslaps.
Why do I always want the one guy I can't have? I spent like three hours talking to him today, and now I just feel totally insane. The weird thing is, we're nothing alike, but we get on so well… He knows me better than anyone. I'd write more, but I swear he has eyes and ears everywhere, and if he ever found out it'd probably screw up what we have, and I don't even wanna think about that happening. In other news…
Gibbs reads over the paragraph several times, remembering the feel of her lips softly seeking his, her tiny gasp as he responded to her. The spark that's always lain unacknowledged between them had fanned into a heat so intense that it had taken him monumental effort to restrain himself.
If his plan fails and she dies…
His mind is so preoccupied that he finds it hard to fall asleep. When he eventually manages it, it's only a few minutes before Abby predicted Mawher would next bring her food.
"Gibbs!" She sags back against the wall, relieved. "Cutting it a little close, aren't you?"
"Couldn't sleep," he tells her.
Despite her nerves, she catches onto the reason for his insomnia, and one eyebrow quirks up as a slow smile creeps over her face. He shakes his head slightly. "Later, Abby…"
She gets back on topic, her face conflicted as she looks toward the door. "I almost want him to come in. I'm so hungry…"
"This is gonna work."
Abby nods, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready. Can you talk me through it?"
Before he can answer, footsteps approach the door, and she draws her knees up to her chest reflexively, unable to mask the dread on her face.
"You're gonna be fine," Gibbs says, but she doesn't seem to hear him.
The door opens, and Mawher steps in, holding a plate of food. It's the first time Gibbs has laid eyes on him since he testified at the trial that put him away, but prison hasn't changed him in the slightest. He's thin, pale, nervous-looking, and for a split-second before he remembers this stage of his program is to deprive her of attention, his eyes seek out Abby hungrily.
Abby watches him put the plate on the dresser, her body completely motionless. She seems frozen, unable to speak.
"Don't look at him, look at me, Abby," Gibbs says softly. She can't tear her eyes from him, and he continues more forcefully. "Abby. Look at me."
Blinking rapidly, she meets his eyes, and a sense of purpose seeps into her. She nods and takes a deep breath. "Tell me stuff."
Mawher hesitates at the sound of her voice, but resists the urge to look around. He assumes she's talking to him.
Gibbs says, "Your lab's a mess."
Of all the things he could have said, he knows this is the one that'll focus her attention the best. Some of the colour returns to her face, and she scowls. "What?! Why?"
Mawher casts a sideways glance at her with a slight frown, but shrugs off the comment and turns to leave.
"Cause there's been a temp working there for two weeks," Gibbs answers her question, appealing to her angry side, keeping her attention on him.
"Oh my god, Gibbs! Couldn't you stop them?"
There's no way Mawher can fail to notice that something's wrong now. He's openly staring at her, and she gives a slight shudder.
"You do the work of ten people, Abbs. Whether you're there or not, the agency needs results."
She sighs. "I know, but… my lab's like my second home! It needs to be kept clean and orderly, otherwise casefiles get mixed and evidence gets contaminated, and before long it's chaos!"
Mawher vacillates for a couple of seconds more, completely caught off guard by this turn of events. Although it goes against this step of his screwed-up program, he turns and crouches beside her. "Abby?"
Her eyes widen a little, her only concession to the terror that threatens to claim her. Gibbs sees beyond the mask and knows she's in danger of cracking. "He's just out of grad school, and he knocked your stuffed hippo into a tray of samples on his first day."
He's making things up now, but if it keeps her focused on him he doesn't care.
"Bert?!" Abby cries, staring at him. "Please tell me none of those samples were soaked in any kind of acid…"
Gibbs notices a subtle shift in Mawher's arm muscles, and knows he's about to reach out to her. More than anything, he wants to tell her to fight back, to knock him away and run for the door, but she hasn't eaten for twenty-four hours and she wouldn't have the strength. Even if by some miracle she did manage to strike him unconscious, she might not be able to get out of the apartment.
Instead, he says, an edge to his voice, "Abby, keep your eyes on me."
A split second later, Mawher grabs her shoulders. Abby flinches, her gaze wavering, but she doesn't look at Mawher or acknowledge his presence. "What kind of acid? Hydrochloric? Sulphuric?" Her voice is softer, but it trembles only a little.
Gibbs forces himself to think about it. "The kind that bleaches the colour out of fabric."
"Abby, look at me! Who're you talking to?" Mawher shakes her shoulders a little, blocking her line of sight, but Abby stares at a point above his head, even smiling a little.
"You're totally lying to me, aren't you? Bert's fine."
"Bert? Bert who?" Mawher demands. "Did I break you? Did you lose it?"
"Yeah," Gibbs replies, praying she'll have the fortitude to last just a little longer, "but it kept your attention."
A little hysterical, Abby begins to giggle. "I can't believe you lied to me, Gibbs! You never lie to me!"
"And I never will again," he promises her. "Ease off, Abbs. Let him think you're heading for catatonia."
She leans her head back against the wall, closing her eyes, letting the amusement drain out of her and becoming still again. Mawher shakes her a few more times, repeating her name, but she remains as relaxed as a rag doll, barely seeming to breathe.
He steps back, a sick look on his face, and heads out of the room with a last uneasy glance. The door shuts and locks behind him, and Abby sits forward, pale and shaking and stunned to be in one piece.
Gibbs goes to her side immediately, enfolding her in his arms, murmuring reassurances. Abby clings to him, and he doesn't draw back until her body's stopped trembling.
"Think he bought it?" she whispers, wary of speaking too loudly in case he's outside the door, listening.
"Oh, he did," Gibbs confirms. "You had me half-fooled."
She tries a smile, but falls short of convincing him. "I don't think I should eat that," she says, her eyes on the food Mawher left behind him.
"He'll contact Ridgeway whether you eat or not," he replies, concerned that she might be taking this a little too far. "Keep your strength up."
Abby crosses the room a little unsteadily and picks up the plate – a sandwich and an apple are all that are on it. There's enough food to keep her body from shutting down, but nothing more. For a couple of seconds she stares down at the sandwich, and then she closes her eyes and turns her back on it. "I don't think there's any other way. He'll hang on until he thinks I'm gonna die, Gibbs. A hunger strike's the best way to convince him of that."
She sits back beside him, leaning against him for comfort, her body tense as the enormity of what she's trying to achieve sinks in. And Gibbs hates to admit it, but she's right. He wants to ignore his gut, to order her to eat and not let up until she gives way, but he can't. "I'm gonna find you, Abbs. Before the weekend."
"What day is it?"
"Thursday morning." He's counting on Mawher panicking before Friday noon.
He stays with Abby until he's sure her captor won't be back for a few hours, at least. Urgency is beginning to nibble at the corners of his mind again; he knows he should be out there ordering for any communication Ridgeway receives to be monitored, checking up on the BOLO he put out on Mawher in the Richmond area. She senses his mood and sends him a wan smile.
"Go do what you have to do, Gibbs. I'll just hang here for a while." As if she has a choice.
He promises to be back as soon as he can, and leaves her, clawing his way back to consciousness with an effort. He's hardly slept at all, but he has things to do.