What Mrs. Mallard Said - 25
Author: GataChica
Rating: M/FR18
Warnings: sexual situations
Spoilers: Untouchable
Disclaimer: My writing is not-for-profit and I don't own the characters or anything else besides my ideas.
Abby's OB had said that bed rest was not always effective at preventing 1st trimester miscarriages, since many of them were caused by a genetic defect. Bed rest was more commonly used to prevent premature labor in the 3rd trimester. Still, Abby – though she hated staying in the house all day, much less in bed! – had decided to do anything she could to improve the odds of having a healthy child.
After only 5 days she was bored by all the 'toys' she had available (computer, video games, TV, movies, music, etc), so when the phone rang she hastily grabbed it and said hello excitedly.
"Abby! Have you heard from Gibbs lately?" Jenny's voice sounded frantic; she was clearly on the verge of tears.
"No, I haven't talked to him since I stopped working," Abby replied, troubled. "What's wrong?"
"He – he –" Jenny's voice broke, and Abby could hear a soothing voice behind her.
"Gibbs didn't show up to their OB appointment." The new voice was Ziva's, and in the background Abby could hear little sobs and sniffs.
"That's – very sucky and hinky," Abby finished lamely. She couldn't think of words vast enough to convey the badness of the situation. "Do you think something happened to him?"
"No, no, I don't think so," Ziva said hastily, causing Abby to make a mental note to speak to Tony or McGee and to find out what Ziva wasn't telling her.
"Is there anything I can do?"
Ziva's next words confirmed Abby's suspicions. "I think McGee said he needs your help with a cold case. You must be terribly bored being there by yourself, with only Mrs. Mallard and her corgis to keep you company."
Abby laughed in spite of herself. "Yes, I certainly am!" More seriously, she added "Hopefully one of us will find him.
"Yes. Goodbye, Abby."
After hanging up the phone, Abby sat and thought for awhile. Even though she and Gibbs had been at odds for several difficult months, she still knew him very well from their years of close friendship. Why would he miss the OB appointment? Jenny seemed to believe it was purposeful, but her judgment was biased because she still felt insecure about Gibbs' feelings for her.
Abby thought it highly unlikely that Gibbs would abandon a pregnant woman or a child. Only if he were mentally unstable – a possibility, albeit a small one. Gibbs always seemed to skate the edge of intensity, pushing himself as far as possible, escaping the fall by a hair's breadth.
Abby believed that something had happened to Gibbs, such as being kidnapped or – no, she wouldn't say or even think it, because she couldn't bear to imagine him dead.
She shook herself from her thoughts, then dialed Tony's number. "Tony? What's going on?"
"Abbs, we're really busy right now. I'm expecting calls from Gibbs' usual hideouts."
"Have you interviewed his neighbors?"
"McGee is there now."
"What about traffic cameras? When was he last seen?"
"Abby, calm down!" Tony was rather alarmed at the stress he could hear in her voice. Could stress cause a miscarriage? He didn't want to find out. "Abbs, call Ducky. That will make you feel better. Don't worry, I'll tell him whenever we get results." He paused for a moment, then added, "Maybe you should do some meditation, or whatever that is that you do. I don't think stressing out is good for the baby."
Abby suddenly remembered why she was at home when everyone else was at work. "Yeah – yeah, Tony, you're right. I'll call Ducky."
"Take care, Abby."
Before she called Ducky's cell phone, she took a moment to breathe deeply and relax her body and mind. Tony was right; she needed to care for the baby first.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs was tired and frustrated – how could he have let this happen yet again? He had grown complacent, had put his trust in someone, and as a result he was now lying in a very small, dark place. He could not stand or sit; he could barely stretch his legs out. He was trying not to think about the possibility (likelihood) that soon he would run out of air.
He thought of Jenny and the baby, and hoped she would forgive him for missing the OB appointment. Then his thoughts turned to trying to remember how he got here.
He was fairly sure he had been hit in the head and knocked unconscious, for an extremely tender bump had swelled above his left ear, and his entire right side ached. It wasn't more than he could stand, but it was uncomfortable.
He thought it likely that his right wrist was broken, probably from the fall.
When he woke up he found himself in this – this – whatever it was. For all he knew, he could be at NCIS or he could be in Chicago. He heard people mumbling, but they never spoke loudly enough or clearly enough for him to understand what they were saying.
What was this place? It made him think of one of the drawers in the morgue, but they were very cold and he certainly wasn't cold here. In fact, he was beginning to sweat profusely; he seemed to be burning a fire inside himself. When the dizziness hit he realized he had been doped. He groaned and pushed on the barrier above his head. If it were a drawer, maybe he could get it open. But 30 seconds later his mind exploded, he saw fireworks whether his eyes were open or closed, and his arms and legs itched so much that he began to wiggle, trying to reach this area or that. He cried out, but his voice sounded hollow.
He could hear no voices anymore, so he knew that there probably wasn't anyone around to save him. Mercifully, before he could seriously damage his skin by scratching, he lost consciousness again.