A/N:Yay for the end of writer's block... Sorry, creative stifling...
They'd developed a routine.
Brett and Maureen would sit with Tim for a few hours and then they would trade off with Abby and Sarah. None of them mentioned it, but Abby knew they shared the same thought; none of them wanted him to be alone if- when- he woke up.
Once the doctors were satisfied that Abby's wounds were healing with no sign of infection, she was discharged with a prescription for pain meds and a warning not to over exert herself. She prevailed on Luca to drive her to the hospital every morning; he practically dragged her out to get some sleep every night.
On the morning of the third day following the surgery, Brett entered Tim's room with good news.
"Tim's doctors" -there was a team of them now, from an intensive care specialist to a neurosurgeon- "say that his intracranial pressure has dropped. They're going to reduce his sedation."
Abby, Sarah and Maureen looked at him with hope in their eyes. "So he's going to wake up?" Sarah asked.
"Hopefully."
"What about brain damage?" Abby asked the question no one wanted to ask.
Brett sighed. "I asked the same question. They said they can't see any on the latest CT scans, but it's not very good at that. They need to do an MRI, but they can't do that yet. They have to wait until he wakes up."
Maureen looked a little confused. "Why?"
"The magnets... he can't have any metal in there with him. They have to be able to take his IVs out first" Abby explained softly, glancing at the numerous lines and machines that McGee was attached to.
"When do they start?" Sarah wanted to know.
"As soon as that bag runs out." Brett pointed to the IV hanging almost directly above Abby's head.
"And then?"
"And then we wait."
...
Gibbs was in the waiting room when Abby walked in. He gave her a quick hug.
"How's he doing?"
She smiled. It felt odd, like it had been days since she did something as positive as smile.
"He's doing better. They're taking him off the sedation."
"That's good news."
"Yeah, it is." She forced herself to push aside the negative thoughts. "What happened with Noscov?"
"He confessed. Case is closed."
She nodded, unaware that Gibbs was studying her.
"Abs? You ok?"
That was all it took. Her hands started to shake and suddenly she was blinking back tears.
"Oh Gibbs, what if he doesn't wake up?"
"He will, Abs. He will." He held her for a few minutes, rubbing her back while she sobbed into his shoulder. She felt him lift a hand, waving someone into the room.
"Jethro?" It was Ducky's voice. "Not- not bad news?"
Abby pulled away, trying to smile. "No, Ducky. They're taking him off the sedatives."
"Wonderful, Abigail!"
"Ducky, is there- is there a chance he might not wake up?"
"What did the doctors say?"
She tried to remember. Her head felt fuzzy from a combination of worry, painkillers and lack of sleep, making it hard to think. "They said they couldn't see any damage on the latest CT scans but they need to do an MRI to be sure."
"Well, significant damage would show up on a CT scan, Abigail. He will wake up."
She managed a more genuine smile this time, feeling reassured by their certainty.
...
She refused to leave with Luca, wanting to be close by in case anything changed. So she was still in the waiting room, attempting to nap in one of the uncomfortable chairs when Brett McGee came down the hallway with a massive grin on his face.
"He's breathing on his own."
She sat bolt upright. "What?"
"He's breathing on his own. He scared us, set the alarms off. But he's breathing!"
She jumped up and hugged him. Gibbs was beside her with Ducky, shaking Brett's hand. After their initial celebration, Brett calmed them down, pointing out that Tim wasn't ready to come off the ventilator yet.
"But he's starting to move his hands a little. It looks like he's coming out of it. The doctors are saying it could take hours yet before he opens his eyes, but it's a start."
Gibbs and Ducky took over sitting with McGee, watching every small movement he made with hope.
...
The darkness was receding.
In its place was a growing sense of dread, and of something unfinished. There was something he had to do, something urgent, but what?
The dread built into incipient panic.
Something was choking him. He could feel it, clinging to his mouth and face. His breath hitched a little as he struggled to figure out what was going on.
Memory came flooding back. Abby, shackled to a chair, her alabaster skin torn and bleeding. Abby, her green eyes wide with a horror, a chain around her neck, strangling her.
Frantically he clawed at the thing choking him. He had to get away, had to get to her, had to save her... But it was already too late. Wasn't it?
Abby was dead.
Grief seized him. Abby was dead.
Suddenly someone was there, holding him down. In his panic he only dimly recognised the voice telling him to calm down, to take it easy.
Abby was dead.
...
Gibbs started as his youngest agent moved suddenly, taking him by surprise. He'd expected Tim's awakening to be a gradual thing, many hours in the future, not this sudden struggle. He saw Tim reach up and try to rip the oxygen tube away from his face, saw his eyes snap open. The pain in those eyes made his stomach clench. McGee was still on heavy duty painkillers; Gibbs knew the pain he was witnessing was grief.
He stood and grabbed McGee by the shoulders, trying to tell him to take it easy, that Abby was okay. But McGee clearly wasn't hearing him. Turning his head, he spotted Sarah McGee in the doorway.
"Get Abby in here!"