NCIS: Deep Down

Author: AnonymousNCISFan
Rating: PG-13

Summary: A relationship explored

Pairing: Gibbs/Abby friendship

Spoilers: Up to & including Season 14 (Takes place during Season 14, right after Pandora's Box. It also relies on plot points from "Willoughby" and "Off the Grid" Lots of callbacks to earlier seasons with Gibbs/Abby moments.).

Warnings: Extreme Angst, possible character death

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money off this – I appreciate the creative minds at NCIS and the brilliant actors who bring these beloved characters to life.

NOTE: Quotes in italics are from past episodes

Chapter 7: Her Prince Charming

"And now I keep thinking about what Dr. Wolf was saying about my dreams. You know, that image of me lying dead on the autopsy table, and how that makes me feel…"

"Abbs, nothing too deep, remember?"

"Alone, Gibbs. It makes me feel alone. Like I've got nobody, no family, just … no one."

Gibbs wiped at his eyes, which were becoming red and irritated from the tears he kept trying to hold at bay as he thought back on Abby's words. He was standing at the door to the morgue following his conversation with Tony, fear locking him in place for the moment. He remembered Abby's old autopsy phobia, how she couldn't go down there for weeks due to her nightmares – nightmares where she saw herself lying dead in autopsy. Those nightmares recurred years later, following the bombing at NCIS. Abby would call him almost every night, no matter what time, and his voice would calm her. But there were boundaries – conversations that couldn't be had - nothing too deep. Looking back on it now, he was ashamed of his fear, of his cowardliness – "Nothing too deep." Deep down, he was afraid to know the truth – that for all his heroics, he couldn't give Abby what she really needed: emotional support, stability, and the deep love she deserved. He was a wreck himself – how could he possibly help her in that way? It was why he'd encouraged her to seek out Kyle - her biological brother. Maybe Kyle could be there for her in ways Gibbs could not.

"I keep thinking … that image of me lying dead on the autopsy table, and how that makes me feel…"

He couldn't stop hearing her words. They echoed like a premonition in his mind. He was about to see her, lying there, dead in the morgue … and how would it make him feel? Suddenly, the doors opened.

"Agent Gibbs," the doctor said, standing half-inside the morgue, still obviously intimidated by him. "Are you ready?"

"Let's get this over with," Gibbs sighed, gesturing towards the doors.

As the doctor led him in, Gibbs felt the familiar cold, sterile air move against his skin, chilling him. He wanted to be professional, he wanted to be strong – for himself, for her …

"Here she is," the doctor said as they stopped at one of the drawers. It was closed, her name hastily written on the yellow tag with the numbers 817657320-G. Gibbs did a double take – that was his Marine service number. A coincidence? He didn't believe in them, but if not, then what? It sent a chill down his spine.

The doctor reached for the drawer, which was at chest-height, but Gibbs stopped him. "I got this."

The doctor swallowed, backing away. "I'll … give you a moment."

Waiting until he was gone, Gibbs gripped the handle and pulled out the drawer slowly. A white sheet covered the body, but he could see the raven-dark hair falling loose outside the cloth. No more pigtails.

"That image of me lying dead on the autopsy table…"

Taking a breath, bracing himself for the impact, he reached for the sheet…

"And how it makes me feel…"

He slowly pulled it back, revealing first her hair, disheveled; then her brow, noticing the lines that had formed while he hadn't been paying attention; then her eyes, closed, resting. And it hit him – he'd never see their uniquely emerald glint flash his way again. He swiftly pulled back the sheet to reveal the rest of her face. His heart dropped as any faint hope he'd had was lost - it was really her.

"It makes me feel…"

"Alone," Gibbs said aloud, repeating her words from years ago, his voice cracking. "Like I have nobody, no family, just… no one." While back then he had felt for Abby in her plight, now he knew exactly how Abby felt.

Gibbs gently rested a hand on the side of Abby's head, noticing the gash on the opposite side that must have happened on impact. He winced. He hadn't had to see Shannon or Kelly after their deaths, but now, confronted with the brutality of this one, he began to unravel. He leaned down close.

"Talk to me, Abbs," he whispered in her ear, stroking her hair. He'd uttered that phrase more than a thousand times over the past 17 years. But this time, there would be no answer, no scientific diatribe to drive him crazy, no smart remarks, teasing words, loving phrases – just silence and stillness - two things he never would have equated with her.

"You always fix things. Please, Gibbs, fix this too…"

"Don't know how to fix this Abbs," he rasped, the memories echoing sharply in his mind. "Can't …" A tear slipped down his face, landing on hers. Shutting his eyes, he turned to place a gentle kiss on her cheek, lingering despite the coldness of her flesh. His mind slid back to the fairy tales he would read to his daughter in the evening, of death being defeated by true love's kiss.

"Ew, daddy ... like those lovey dovey kisses you and mommy do," Kelly responded, rolling her eyes and scrunching up her face. "I wouldn't want to wake up if a boy did that to me."

A much younger and light-hearted Gibbs laughed, tousling her hair and drawing her close. "Well, true love doesn't have to mean 'lovey dovey,' Kelly," Gibbs smiled, "though one day you might feel different about that."

"I don't think so, but ... I guess maybe I'd wake up if it was you. Like, I wouldn't mind if you were my Prince Charming. Is that what you mean?"

Gibbs leaned over and softly kissed her cheek. "Yea, Kelly, that's what I mean. I'll be your Prince Charming any time you like."

She laughed, wrapping her arms around him as he tucked her in for the night.

"True love's kiss," Gibbs rasped, being pulled from the memory by the cold truth in front of him. Life was far from a fairy tale - his kiss couldn't bring back Kelly, or Shannon. An involuntary sob tore from his throat as he withdrew, knowing it wouldn't bring Abby back to him either.

"I owe you everything. You're Gibbs. I'm willing to do anything for you."

"Too bad you were too stubborn to do the same," an accusatory voice called from across the room.

"Shut up, Mike," Gibbs said angrily, keeping his gaze on Abby's face. He never deserved her, and while he tried to be there for her, in the end he failed her, like he always feared he would. It's why he held back - it's what Dr. Taft had seen in him when he asked, "What are you afraid of, Gibbs?" The pain of that reality overwhelmed him. Doc Grace had tried to warn him - tried to tell him keeping everything bottled up would be his undoing. He'd been trying, but he didn't want to appear weak in front of his team - in front of her. He was never good with words, not even with Shannon. It was something he always regretted, but never seemed to learn from. And now, thanks to Tony, he knew she died questioning his affections for her.

"You and your hero complex blinded you to how much she actually helped you over the years," Franks continued, walking toward him. "You lost sight of her, and now she's gone. Just like me, and Jenny and Kate, and Ziva…and Shannon and Kelly."

And there it was. This was his fault. His thoughtlessness - arrogantly telling that mole: "We have one hell of a forensic scientist" - helped put Abby on Chen's radar, helped put her here, put her with all the others he'd lost along the way. This was on him. Anger welled inside him as he tried to push back the pain.

"Why don't you go to hell!" Gibbs shouted, turning to confront a ghost who was no longer there. He turned back to Abby, devastation etched in his face. The pain in his chest grew. This was different. Different from all the others deaths that came before. Abby wasn't a soldier or an agent, used to battle - she was innocent and wouldn't harm a fly, much less a person. She wasn't an angry ex or someone older whose life, though missed, had run its course - she was loyal and brilliant and far too young. She never betrayed him, would never think to hurt him. She bowled with nuns and built habitats for humanity. She gave her time and talent freely and stayed at a job that could never pay her what she was worth simply so she could help people. Abby...she was a loss to the world. Yet somehow, selfishly, he could only think of his own world, and how empty it would be without her in it. And it broke his heart.

"Sorry, Abbs," he whispered gently, taking her cold hand in his, sweeping over the tattoos he'd never see again. He wondered who the RIP was for on her arm - he'd guessed it was for her father, but had never asked. So many things he'd never asked. And her voice kept echoing in his mind.

"You have no idea how much I wish it was yesterday. Maybe, if I could just close my eyes and open them again, it will be."

"I know how you felt Abbs… feel the same," he rasped, kissing her forehead. He straightened, sighing, and decided it couldn't hurt to try. She had always inspired him to have faith, but if this didn't work ... his hand moved to grip the SIG on his hip. Slowly, he closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks….

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's Note: Things look grim, but there's still one more chapter to go!