It is the sense of being surrounded by warmth that surprises her the most. With his eyes resting on her skin throughout the rest of the evening, she manages to keep breathing. It is his calming gaze that keeps her from crying, keeps her from running out that door into the darkness of the night where no one can see the exhaustion in her eyes. She does not deserve his empathy. Rachel arrives, and it should be awkward, but thankfully it is not; Kate doesn't notice, does not notice anything but the blue eyes on her crackled skin. There is one question on her mind, one thought that refuses to leave her spinning head: how can he give so much? Where does Gibbs find the empathy and strength to still try and save her? Where does he find the energy to care, the energy to handle her so gently? She is staring at him, she probably has for quite some time now, and his blue eyes lock with hers. She almost blushes, almost, only feels the blood rush to her face, feels the warmth, does not think it's enough to actually flush.

"Kate?" Rachel's voice makes her jump out of her jumbled thoughts and into the kitchen in which they are. "Anybody home?" A hand is waved before her eyes. She blinks.

"Um… yes," she manages to croak. "Everything is different now."

The statement jumps out of her mouth without her permission. Six faces of surprise turn to her.

"Why?" she continues. Weeks of silence finally catch up with her. Weeks of avoiding the team, weeks of trying to forget the team, trying to forget what happened, trying to start anew, tend to open wounds; weeks and weeks of absence catch up with her mind, and there is a feeling within her chest; it is a feeling of pain and of love and of great urgency.

"Why? Why… does it have to take so long?" The faces around her frighten her a little. They do not recognize this Kate, that is evident. "I just… want to… tackle suspects. Carry a gun. Shoot a gun. Kick your asses when we fight. I wanna drink triple espressos, I want… I want… Tony, why haven't you leered at me yet?"

She is almost more surprised than Tony seems; his mouth is wide open, eyes shaped like coins, face a mask of utter bewilderment. She does not stop to react to his expression and lack of answer, she cannot stop, the past weeks have caught up with her and now she is running alongside them, an endless marathon of black and white and all the damning shades in between:

"And Ducky. You know a lot of things. You know so many stories and you always share them, you always have a story to tell. Why can't you tell... me... a story? Tell me about… your days in England, or that time you met the German doctor with the amputated finger who still managed to actually do surgery, and—"

She stops, not knowing what she's saying. Will she ever know?

"Abby… Smile." Abby does not smile, only swallows loudly, "You are so beautiful when you smile, Abby. Seriously. You have one of the nicest smiles ever. Even better than Gibbs'. I love it when you smile because… because…" She is lost, running in the wrong direction. What is the right direction? Where is she supposed to go from here? Are these people her colleagues or... are they her friends? Her family? Who is she? This doesn't sound like her; she cannot recognize her own voice.

"I just… I just… I want to go back." She is whispering now, "Let me go back, guys. Let me…" she closes her eyes, and the world around her fades away.

xxxx

She wakes to the soft light of a grey and rainy day. She quickly sits up in bed, surveying the room. She has no idea where she is, because she has never seen these soft blueish walls and dark wooden furniture before. There is no panic, however. There is something calm about the room, as if this room is a sanctuary in itself. This room belongs to someone who has had to fight many, many demons.

"Good morning," Gibbs says, standing in the doorway. He does not look angry, only empathic, eyes wide open, mouth an even line. She gives him a hesitant smile before frowning.

"I passed out?"

"Yup," he says. "Has it happened before?"

She nods, does not want to explain further, does not want to think of the pain that follows her everywhere that she goes.

"…Rachel?" she manages to say with a low voice.

"She left this morning. She told me to tell you to call her when you wake up."

Kate looks out the window at the crying sky.

"Are they mad at me?"

She does not have to explain further with Gibbs. He has a suspicious talent for knowing exactly what is on her mind.

"No, Kate. I don't think they could be mad if they wanted to."

And his eyes lock with her, blue eyes salvation for her empty mind. His gentleness washes over her, warm and safe. She knows she has been a pain in the ass, yelling and crying, ungrateful and hateful.
But she has been trying.

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Oh, I don't know."

She is surprised for a second, before recognizing the teasing glint in his eyes.

She rolls her eyes, "And what will I have to do to get back in your good graces?" she says, a small smile on her lips.

He cocks his head to the side as if contemplating an answer, "Make breakfast."

He smirks at her and leaves the room.


Hey, friends. New chapter. I know I suck at updating and I'm so, so, so sorry. Believe me.