The recovery process was always a roller-coaster ride. There were exhilarating thrills of progress and dramatic, heart-stopping lows. Adding in the stages of the grieving process that followed any major change in life, it made for a very interesting mix. But this was one of the good days.

After the latest MRI came back, Abby's neurologist had declared he was reasonably sure the weakness in her leg was due to the bruising in the injured areas of her brain and not permanent damage from lack of blood or oxygen. She was regaining her strength slowly but surely, and the neurologist assured them he was confident she would recover completely. In the meantime, Abby had been working with the physical therapist and a crutch, and in the three days since she'd been moved to the step-down unit, she was getting around pretty well with it.

It was a lightweight metal arm crutch, allowing Abby to stop and lean on it to rest as she needed. But every day, she was getting stronger, and Tim could tell she was finally allowing herself to be encouraged by her progress.

Also encouraging were the leads they were getting on Charity's case. Though no firm ID had been made, the man the other missing girl had been seen with last was described by witnesses as looking similar to the man patrons had seen lurking around The Shadowbox. Amanda Walden, the other missing girl, wasn't a Goth, but her style was similar; someone operating out of blind prejudice wasn't likely to know the difference. The fact that they were both George Mason students could have meant that their abductor had been stalking the campus or it could be a coincidence. Nothing in the FBI investigation indicated Amanda and Charity knew each other or had ever met. If NCIS had been officially involved in the case, it would have been a long string of late nights and empty coffee cups. As it was, there were still late nights and empty coffee cups for both agencies, but for different reasons.

Though they weren't staying with Abby 24/7 anymore, the team still spent most of their time with her. They had gone back to work, technically, but one or more of them was usually at the hospital and there hadn't been any cases yet requiring the MCRT. Under other circumstances, Vance would more than likely have sent them out on cases other teams could have handled, just to keep them busy, but he had left them on cold cases and Gibbs' team knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Gibbs was pretending he wasn't playing phone tag with Fornell, getting updates as they trickled along. Metro PD had upped their presence at known Goth and punk hotspots throughout the area, but the FBI had officially taken over the case.

Ziva was having lunch with Abby, and Tim was beginning to wish he'd had the same idea. Instead, he was perusing anti-Goth websites, hoping to find someone bragging, some connection. As long as it wasn't "officially" for the case, he could get away with it. As long as he was just a concerned friend trying to help and didn't take any action, no one could say anything. But it was sickening. Most of the insults, Tim had seen Abby dodge with grace before, but the anonymity of the Internet led people to post some truly horrible things. There were the graphic images of Sophie Lancaster and her boyfriend, of course, but instead of finding them on loving memorial sites, Tim was seeing the violence celebrated – and in some cases, altered to look even worse. It was revolting. He couldn't take it for very long, and soon he changed his search terms. "Killed by Goths," he knew, would bring up a lot of untrue stories, with facts twisted, with murderers who happened to wear black receiving the label, but with the level of violence and hatred that had been directed toward Abby, Tim couldn't let it go without a look.

Tim automatically excluded everything related to mass shootings, knowing those were the most famous crimes to be unjustly blamed on the Goth community. A few pages into his search, he found a crudely constructed – at least by his standards – personal page which immediately accosted him with music and graphics of angels floating across his screen. He was surprised the so-called designer hadn't thrown in any novelty cursors as well. Tim almost clicked off the site in sheer annoyance, but this was exactly what he'd been looking for, someone personal with a vendetta. There was a similarly obnoxious links page, linking to memorials of other "victims of these freaks," but it was the two young women the site was dedicated to that caught Tim's attention. They were listed as being twenty-one and nineteen, sisters named Ashley and Sara Pratt, from Loudon County, Virginia. Tim's focus zeroed in on the fact that both girls had attended George Mason.

At first glance, neither Ashley nor Sara particularly resembled Amanda or Charity. Both girls had long brown hair and were dressed fairly conservatively. Tim clicked through the page, looking for more – and he began to think he might have found something. All the pictures of the sisters were similar to the one on the main page – except a blurry cell phone picture that showed them with multicolored braids in their hair and decidedly more Gothic clothing. That page was a diatribe about the Goths who had "mislead" these "poor, innocent" girls and ultimately were responsible for their deaths. They had died in a car accident two years ago, and the site claimed the "Goth freak" driving the car "was probably on drugs." Whoever had authored the site had a limited vocabulary and a clear vendetta against Goths. It was a long shot that he'd even found it – a neon counter informed him he'd been the 325th visitor to the site since its creation two years ago. The types of sites Tim frequented got that many hits in less than an hour.

Tony wandered over as Tim signaled him and Gibbs followed. They gathered around Tim's computer, various levels of disgust registering on their faces. Gibbs turned to Tim. "Find out where that site came from and get it to Fornell."

Tim nodded. "Sure thing."

Gibbs nodded once before heading back to his desk and grabbing the phone. He paused before dialing. "And, McGee?"

"Yeah, Boss?" Tim asked.

"Save that thing, all of it, in case someone tries to take it down."

Tim smiled. "Already done." It was the smart thing to do, but Tim still loved when he was able to anticipate Gibbs' orders and carry them out in advance.


Tim liked to visit Abby in the late evening, when the activity had died down and the administrators were gone. He knew medical staff grumbled when units instituted open visiting hours and he tried not to become "that visitor." He generally settled into Abby's room for a few hours and did his best to keep out of the nurses' hair unless Abby needed something.

Tim smiled as he helped Abby get settled in bed, leaning the crutch against the side rail in case she needed it after he was gone. "I'm surprised Tony hasn't made any Tiny Tim jokes yet."

Abby laughed. "Nah, that's not his style. Too obvious."

Tim snorted. "In case you haven't noticed, Tony is not exactly known for his subtlety."

"Maybe not," Abby allowed, "but if you're expecting him to make a certain joke, he's probably not going to do it – just to keep you guessing."

Tim inclined his head, conceding the point. "True." Tony was like a mouthy but dependable older brother; he might give his friends hell, but he was there for them when they needed it.

Abby smiled. "So did you hear they're kicking me out soon?"

Tim grinned. "Yeah, that's the word." Originally, the doctors had wanted Abby to spend a few more days on a regular med-surg unit in order to continue her physical therapy, but she had been doing so well they couldn't justify it, as long as she had someone to help her out at home. Gibbs had promptly declared Abby would be coming home with him, so that was settled. Her injuries still bothered her when she was up and about, but oral painkillers were keeping things under control. And Abby was too determined to get back on her feet – unassisted – to let pain deter her. It would be nice if she was released in the morning, so she could see Luca and Emma off, as they had to return to New Orleans and had an afternoon flight. But even if she wasn't, they would come to say goodbye.

"What about Charity?" Abby always asked, every visit. Tim was glad he had something to tell her this time.

"We found a website," Tim said. "Don't know if it's related yet, but there were two girls about the same age who got into the Goth world in college. Looks like they came from a pretty strict home life. They were killed in a car accident, and whoever designed the website is obviously blaming the wrong people."

Abby nodded sadly. "You think that's the person who took Charity and that other girl?"

Tim shook his head. "You know as well as I do that a lot of coincidences look suspicious at first. FBI's following up on it. I gave them the IP address to track it. Couldn't do much else officially."

Abby looked down, and Tim knew depression was an inevitable thing that came and went throughout the healing process. Tim couldn't make it go away, but hopefully, he could distract her for a little bit. She was on wireless monitors now and IV-free, so as long as they didn't leave that floor of the hospital, she could roam a bit. Plus, while she still had a hospital gown on to allow room for the monitors, she'd been able to put pajama pants on underneath, so modesty was no longer a concern. Today's selection was fuzzy pink bunnies with fangs.

Tim patted Abby's arm. "You up to a little exploring?"

"Sure." Abby shrugged. "I think I've seen every inch of this unit with that therapist."

"So let's see what else we can find." Tim had discovered a twenty-four hour pastry shop in the lobby that connected the step-down unit to the whatever was on the other wing of the floor. "I checked out the range of those monitors. Unless someone peeks in, they'll never know you were gone."

Abby laughed, reaching for her crutch. "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere too fast these days."

On an impluse, Tim brushed her hand aside and reached to her. He picked her up, grinning as she laughed. "This better?"

Abby kissed his cheek. "What are you going to do, give me a piggyback ride?"

"If you want," Tim offered. He was sure the staff would not approve, but that was only if they got caught. There was an element of excitement to it. He set Abby back on the bed so she could get adjusted and let her climb onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his neck as he supported her legs.

Tim peeked out the doorway of Abby's room; the nurses' station was in the opposite direction of the lobby. A tech was at the desk reading a book and one of the nurses was in the hall, but then she stepped into the medication room. Tim stepped out; trying not to move too quickly and jostle Abby. Still, he'd had to drag co-workers out of dangerous situations before when they were dead weight and so Abby was remarkably light by comparison. Tim was more brain than muscle, as Tony reminded him frequently, but Tim was still no slouch in the gym. He'd worked hard to maintain his physical bearing as a field agent – and now, it was time to use that strength for a little fun. "Stop giggling," he teased Abby. "Your heart rate is going to shoot up and they'll come looking for us."

It wasn't a long trip, but that wasn't the point. It was a change of scenery for Abby, a less sterile environment than the hospital room for them to talk – and a really awesome selection of muffins only a few feet away. The prices were good by DC standards anyway, but patients and visitors got an additional discount. Neither of them was extremely hungry, so Tim bought a banana nut muffin and broke it in half for them to share. He settled down next to Abby on one of the loveseats in the lobby and draped an arm over her shoulders. She leaned close, snuggling against him..

"Thank you," Abby told him softly, crumbs slipping between her fingers to land on the ears of a fanged bunny.

Tim shrugged, as if it was nothing. Abby was no longer heavily medicated, so he was trying to be far more careful with what and how he said things. He didn't want to set either of them up for another heartbreak. "It was a cheap muffin."

"Not the muffin, Timmy," Abby countered, with a hint of fond exasperation. "For everything else. For being you."

"We're your friends," Tim assured her. "You'd do the same for us."

Abby shook her head softly, tracing the pattern on Tim's tie with a finger. "Not all friends are alike. I love you all, and you know that, but...what we have is special."

And there it was, the sign from above Tim had been waiting for. He'd honestly expected something far more dramatic or romantic – her rushing into his arms or somesuch, not being caught with a mouthful of banana nut muffin in a hospital lobby. But that was the moment when he knew he had fallen again, fallen hard, and was never going to be able to let go again. He swallowed as quickly as he could without choking, knowing he needed to say it before he lost his nerve. "I love you."

Abby leaned her head on his shoulder. "I know."

Tim shook his head and pulled back a little so he could look her in the eyes. He couldn't afford any miscommunication, not when the emotional stakes were so high. "No, I mean...I love you. Not like puppies or science, or...anything. Just me, you." He hoped like hell he wasn't going to scare her off, but she had to know the truth. And so did he. If she didn't feel the same, he had to reconstruct that professional wall again immediately and keep it in place.

Abby's eyes misted as she reached up to touch Tim's cheek. "Oh, Timmy." For a moment, Tim's heart sank. Everything depended on what that sigh meant. "I love you, too. I think...I just needed time, to be sure I wasn't rushing in, to...I don't know."

"You don't have to explain." Tim rested his cheek against her hair. They'd both dated others in their time apart, sometimes getting serious. None of that mattered anymore, just this new beginning. Tim turned Abby's face toward his for a gentle kiss, which quickly intensified. As deeply as he was into the moment, in the back of Tim's mind, he still worried they'd be interrupted by a less-than-pleased nurse. It wasn't enough to stop him, though.

Tim's concerns weren't entirely unfounded. Someone did happen upon them, getting their attention with a pointed clearing of his throat. Tim turned and froze. Busted. Abby blushed, flashing her best innocent smile. Tim's brain hadn't communicated with the rest of his body yet, so he just blinked and managed to keep his mouth closed.

Gibbs stood across from the loveseat – a name that had become especially apt in the last few minutes – and gave the two of them his best questioning look. He was impossible to read. He didn't seem angry, but Gibbs rarely showed that outwardly. "Either of you care to explain?"

Tim was pretty sure he was screwed, no matter what. It rarely ended well when anyone walked in on someone kissing their daughter. And, blood or not, that's what Abby was to Gibbs. "Ah, well, see, Boss...I can explain..." No, he couldn't. He really couldn't. Not to Gibbs' satisfaction. Tim closed his eyes and waited for the wrath to descend upon him.


Gibbs had been at the office late, making sure he knew all that Fornell knew about the case. He'd decided to drop in to see Abby on his way home, but had detoured for coffee on the way to her room. And found her there, with Tim. The kiss was hardly anything blush-worthy, but Gibbs was not one to walk away, pretending he'd seen nothing. The signs had been falling into place for awhile now; he was hardly shocked – but he did need to lay down some firm ground rules and he figured he might as well do it before things got too complicated. He'd been meaning to do the same with Tony and Ziva – Gibbs didn't know who they thought they were fooling, but it wasn't him – but they hadn't provided him any openings yet. This opening, however, was about as obvious as it got.

Gibbs let Tim stammer for a moment, trying to explain himself, because it was mildly amusing. Also, expected. He wasn't trying to terrify his people; he just wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page and the expectations were clear. Rule Twelve had its purpose and reasons, like every other rule Gibbs kept. But it hadn't always been as strict. And, like all the others, it was meant for protection, not dictatorship. He had been hurt by a looser interpretation long ago, so he locked it down, made it firm. But Gibbs knew that in the end, while behavior could be controlled, feelings couldn't.

He was actually less worried about Abby and Tim than he was Ziva and Tony. Though Gibbs' team worked closely with Abby, they technically were employed by different departments. They had a longer and far less torrid history. Gibbs had been keeping an eye on both situations for quite some time, but this was the one fate had decided he would deal with first. And it was actually much easier than it would have been if he'd happened upon wandering lips in the lab, because they weren't at work.

Gibbs gave Tim a minute more to squirm before sitting down in the chair opposite them. "So, explain."

As Gibbs had expected, Abby was the first to respond. She was much more comfortable standing up to him – and she also saw through him more easily. "Gibbs, please don't freak out."

"Do I look like I'm freaking out?" Gibbs asked. "I just asked for an explanation." With any other boyfriend of Abby's, Gibbs would have had to evaluate their worthiness. But Tim had more than proven himself.

"Boss, we'll keep it professional," Tim said after a moment. "It's just...I can't – I won't pretend those feelings don't exist. Not anymore."

Gibbs nodded. "Do you love her, McGee?" Had they just started dating, he wouldn't have been so absolute, but he already knew the answer to the question. The real test would be how Tim answered.

"Yes," Tim replied – firmly, without hesitation.

Gibbs smiled. "Good." He looked at them, and damned if they didn't look perfectly content together. He loved each member of his team deeply, but it was different with the women – and not because he saw them as weaker, not by any means. He knew full well Abby and Ziva could hold their own. But while Tony and Tim were indeed his protegees, sons of the heart, Gibbs saw himself in Ziva and Kelly in Abby. And most fathers would confess that while they loved equally, there was just something different about having a girl. "Then let me tell you what you're going to do. You will keep it professional during work hours. The lab is not your bedroom. And if for whatever reason it doesn't work out, you either find a way to work together or you make other arrangements." He trusted they would find a way to put aside their differences if it came to that, but it needed to be said. "And, Tim?"

Tim looked infinitely more relieved than he had at the start of the conversation. "Yeah, Boss?"

"Just so we're clear," Gibbs said, "if you hurt her, you will be dealing with me."