Hey everyone! Sorry this one took so long to get out. I suffered a minor case of writer's block near the end and it sat dormant for a little while, but I got over that with a little help from my muse. Thanks, Liz! You rock. So, anyways, please review, and maybe I won't have writer's block on the next chapter. Just a little encouragement goes a long way for us feedback junkies!
Chapter Seven
Gibbs walked slowly into autopsy. The lights were dim; Ducky wasn't there. The room was empty, except for the still form lying on one table. He approached the table with a growing sense of dread, somehow already knowing what he would find, but the knowing didn't lessen the shock of it. "No…" The word was barely a whisper. He darted to the table, grabbing her hand, stroking her hair, pleading with her to wake up and knowing she couldn't hear him. "No…" he said again, and then the pain in his chest burst out in an anguished yell. "Abby!"
Gibbs sat up with a jolt, her name still on his lips. Shaking and disoriented from the nightmare, he looked around the darkened lab until his gaze fell on the girl lying beside him. Relief flooded him at the sight of her asleep on her futon, but began to fade to concern as he realized that his shout hadn't even caused her to stir.
"Abby?" he asked softly, reaching over to touch her arm. When she didn't respond, he moved his hand up to her forehead, concern growing rapidly at the heat of her skin. He checked her pulse; it was faster than it should be, and weaker. He shook her gently. "Abby. Wake up." Getting no response, he shook her harder. "Abby!" She stirred slightly, but that was it.
He clambered to his feet, located the phone, and headed for it. Ducky was on speed dial, and he was grateful for that. Eight rings later he figured the doctor must be sleeping; he knew Ducky wouldn't have left in such a situation. He hung up the phone. He'd have to go get him. But that meant leaving Abby. "Damn." He headed for the door, but a soft sound stopped him. He turned to see Abby pushing herself up and looking around, appearing a bit dazed. He took a step towards her. "Abby?"
She looked over at him. "Gibbs?" Her voice was faint, but sounded loud in the silent lab. "What are you doing here?" Gibbs opened his mouth to explain that he'd never left, but she cut him off, glancing over at the window. "It's really late. Did you find something new for the case? Need me to process something?"
He shook his head, giving her a worried look. "No, Abbs. There's not a case right now, remember?"
She raised an eyebrow. "There's always a case, Gibbs. I don't pull overnighters for no reason. And you don't randomly walk into my lab in the middle of the night."
He tried to think of how to respond to that. She obviously didn't remember what was going on… he didn't know if he should try to explain it or not. She was feverish and confused, and honestly, knowing what was going on wouldn't really help at that moment.
"So what do you need me to do, Gibbs?" She grabbed the edge of a table and tried to stand, but her legs wouldn't hold her and she fell back onto the futon.
"Abby!" Gibbs was by her side in an instant.
"Woah. Who spiked the Caff-Pow?" she muttered, putting a hand to her head.
"Just lie still, Abbs." He brushed a few stray strands of hair out of her face and moved to stand, but she caught his hand lightly.
"Don't leave…" she pleaded faintly, sounding a bit frightened. She wasn't sure what was going on, but she knew she didn't feel well. He hesitated. He needed to get Ducky, but he didn't like the idea of leaving her alone, when she was so weak and scared. But if he couldn't reach Ducky on the phone… well, there was always a way to compromise.
"Hey!" Abby protested as Gibbs scooped her up into his arms. "I didn't mean carry me around with you!"
"I'm gonna go get Ducky. You can come with me, or you can stay here, but I have to go down to autopsy either way."
She thought about it for a second. "Well, why do you have to carry me? Can't I just walk?"
"Okay." He set her on her feet and released her, but only for a second, catching her before she could collapse and picking her up once again. "That, Abby, is why I am carrying you."
She started to protest before apparently deciding against it, sighing slightly and leaning her head lightly against his shoulder as he headed out of the lab and, after a moment's debate, for the stairs. It'd be easier not to have to worry about button-pressing. He took the stairs as quickly as he could without jarring the woman in his arms, who was half-asleep, curled up against him.
As he had guessed, Ducky hadn't left; he was asleep in his chair. Gibbs stood uncertainly for a minute; he needed to wake Ducky, but he really did not want to lay Abby on one of those metal tables. Abby solved the problem with a cough; a slight sound, but enough to wake the dozing doctor. Ducky looked up, took in the scene before him, and stood. "What's wrong, Jethro?"
Gibbs glanced down at the girl in his arms. "Her fever's gone up, her pulse is too fast, she's pretty disoriented, and she's too weak to stand." He looked back up at Ducky. "And she didn't want to be alone."
"Oh, dear," Ducky sighed, but he didn't look surprised. He indicated the autopsy table. "Well, put her down, I'll do what I can."
Gibbs glanced at the metal table, instinctively holding Abby a bit closer. "Um… no." At Ducky's questioning look, he explained "Not on the autopsy table, Duck."
"Ah." Ducky nodded. "Of course. Well, then, I guess we should take her back to her lab."
This agreed with Gibbs' line of thinking a lot more than the alternative. With Ducky following behind him, he headed for the stairs once more.
