Rescue
Abby was only dimly aware of what was going on around her.
She heard the loud, obnoxious noise of heavy equipment, the crunch of glass against glass, the metal screaming as it was once again forced to change shape, against its will.
She felt excruciating pain in her head, and her leg.
She felt something stiff being placed around her neck, fastened into place. She felt something being wedged between her back and the seat of her car. She felt gentle, yet strongly determined hands remove her from her rather painfully awkward position. She moaned in pain as her leg was jostled suddenly.
Voices, soothing voices. "Abigail, you're going to be alright. Just stay with us, okay. We're here to help you."
She felt herself being lifted onto something padded, strapped in. The sensation of being airborne once again made her panic, momentarily, until she felt solid ground beneath her again. The sounds of slamming doors and sirens were the last things she was aware of, before she lost consciousness..
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Tony was about to check with another local police department, when Gibbs arrived.
Tim was on his phone as well, checking with yet another hospital.
Abby had seemingly vanished without a trace.
Gibbs went straight to the kitchen, reached instinctively into the cupboard for his favourite jumbo "Abby-sized" coffee cup, and filled it to the brim. He came back out, and said, "What have you got, boys?"
"Sweet bugger all, Boss," Tony said, frustrated.
They were all surprised when the landline phone rang.
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"What did the guy say, Tim?" Gibbs pressed, as they all piled into the car.
"Not much, just that he saw a car lose control and go over a guard rail into a ditch. His wife called 911. The id they found was Abby's. It's her car, Boss." Tim was trying to remain calm, and failing miserably.
Nobody noticed, and nobody complained, as Gibbs took off, tires squealing, headed for the hospital that the man had said the ambulance was headed for.
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"Female, late 20's to early 30's, lone occupant, single vehicle rollover. Head trauma, possible neck trauma. Compound fracture of her left leg, more contusions than we can count, multiple lacerations from flying glass. Deep laceration in her scalp, bleeding under control. Pulse strong, vitals appear stable but she most likely has internal injuries."
Once again, Abby was dimly aware of her surroundings.
"Immm" she mumbled, trying to open her eyes.
She was terrified to realize that she was unable to move her neck, until the thought occurred to her from somewhere in her logical scientist's mind, that something bad had happened, and her head had been immobilised by something. What did they call those things? She couldn't remember.
"Prep her for a CAT scan and x-rays. I don't like the looks of that head injury. Get Dr. Nixon in here, tell him to prep himself for emergency surgery."
A new voice. Abrupt, calmly hurried. Professionally frantic.
"Way to go, McGee," she thought to herself. "Now you've gone and righteously FUBAR'd yourself." The coherent thought surprised her. "Tim. How to tell them about Tim. They have to let him know, he'll be worried sick by now."
She had no way of knowing that Tim, Tony, and Gibbs were already one step ahead of her.