A/N: So, please don't hate me. I am out of excuses. All of the old ones still apply. Honestly, I had no idea where I was going with this story and have rewritten this chapter and the next few a number of times. Hopefully, I will be wrapping this up soon-I think Abby and Sarah need a break!

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"What the fuck?" came out of the quiet darkness and hit Sarah with the jolt of hope she'd been waiting for all day.

"Abby! Oh my God!" Sarah turned on the lamp by the bed and began to feel the woman's forehead. Abby tried to shake her hand away.

"Stop that. What's going on?" her voice was hoarse and choked with sleep. Sarah moved to get her some water and after five minutes of finagling Abby's body into some sort of upright position, managed to coax her into taking a few sips. That accomplished, Abby stared blankly at the dark canopy above her.

"Abby? Do you know what happened to you?" Sarah couldn't imagine anyone forgetting an ordeal like that, but she'd read some amazing things on the brain's ability to block unpleasant memories. Abby did not answer but did seem to be taking much larger, slower breaths.

"Are you in pain? I can get you some more medication…"

"No! I can't…that stuff is…I hate that stuff. I'm at home right?" Her words were labored in her drug addled haze. Sarah bit her lip to stop from crying out. The guilt she'd been feeling threatened to overwhelm her but she knew that now was not the time: Abby needed her and she was going to be damned if she didn't help her after everything that she'd suffered because of her. Sarah moved away from Abby's face to give her some air.

"Yes you are at home. It's about one in the afternoon." Abby nodded slightly and turned to look at the thing that was making her arm cold.

"Is that thing almost done?" Sarah eyed the IV bag.

"I have no idea. I think so, there's not very much left in there."

"Ok." Abby made a move to rip at the tape over the needle but Sarah stilled her hand. Abby tried to continue but Sarah gripped the hand harder.

"Leave it be Abby. I will take it out when it is completely empty. How do you feel?" Abby gave her the best withering look she could muster and closed her eyes, determined to focus on her breathing. She would not have any more pain medication unless it was forced down her throat. Sarah checked the time and realized that Abby had not slept as long as Ducky had hoped.

"You should go back to sleep. There's nothing to do right now." Abby glanced at her and took another large breath, only to let it out with a painful wheeze; deep breathing would have to be out for now.

"Ice?" she asked as nicely as she could. Maybe if she got the girl to do something she would stop staring at her as if she'd handed her the last cup of "special Kool-Aid." Sarah practically ran to the tiny kitchen and found some ice for her patient.

As Sarah slowly fed the woman crushed ice, she began to stare intently at Abby's bandaged forearms. She knew what was under there, had seen the damage she'd done and most importantly the damage she'd started. The regret that threatened to choke her sat heavily in the back of her throat; large enough to kill her but slow enough to make her suffer first. She jumped when she felt Abby's cool hand on hers.

"Stop." The command was simple but it said everything that Abby wanted to say and everything that Sarah couldn't do. The younger woman shook her head in a physical display of clearing her thoughts and placed the plastic cup from which she'd served ice onto the nightstand.

"I can't."

"You can. Stop. Have you slept today?" The tears that Sarah had been holding at bay began to trickle gently down her cheeks.

"How can you still be worried about me? What is wrong with you?" She spoke with the tremor that tears give the voice and the heaviness of a weary ancient. Abby smiled dopily, the medication still playing slightly with her motor skills.

"You are important to me; of course I am going to care. There are many things wrong with me by the way, but there are also many things that are right. I like to go with those things. Speaking of going…" her mind lead her mouth on another long foray into her psyche, her now morphed psyche, leaving Sarah to take the words she was getting close to her heart. Every now and again she would nod to Abby's words, laugh where appropriate, or simply look as if she could understand her gibberish. Abby's burst of energy faded with the minutes. The new silence was unexpected and awkward. Sarah absent mindedly brushed the hair from Abby's eyes. Abby took the opportunity to grab at her hand.

"Eat something and take a nap. Relax. My home is your home. Please Sarah," she smiled a bit and tried to keep full eye contact but the task was too great, so she blinked and drifted off. Sarah smiled wide, her previous tears long stopped when she'd finally heard Abby sound like…Abby, for the first time in a long time.

"Right. Good night Abby."

"Good afternoon." She answered groggily. Sarah laughed out loud; this woman would never cease to amaze her. Her eyes wondered to the IV drip; the bag was empty. She was practically humming as she dialed Ducky's number.

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"Tell Gibbs what McGee?" Tim turned his body slowly to take in the sight of said Gibbs. Shit. Gibbs' face remained somewhat neutral; concern inked into his forehead, impatience making his teeth grind, the usual. The previous empowerment McGee had been feeling seemed to leak out of him as if he were some strange human balloon.

"Well…"

"Jethro stop that. We don't have time for you to be you." Ducky snapped. He'd foreseen this situation, but the premonition had not helped with preparation. He stalked to Jethro's chest and looked him in the eye.

"We've had an accident. We need to fix it. You are here about Abby." Jethro's eyes began to blaze in a fire he usually reserved for his most obnoxious criminals…and DiNozzo if he was having a particularly bad day. To his credit, he did not lash out, he simply nodded his head for the ME to continue.

"First, you must promise to let Timothy finish his story before you turn into a devil." Gibbs nodded again, but much stiffer. His stomach had been churning since last night but he's tried to attribute it to the questionable BBQ he'd picked-up for dinner. It had flared up so often in the past few months he thought he had really developed an ulcer, but not one that would need a doctor - one that would need more coffee.

"And if anything in this room…"

"Ducky, the clock is ticking." Ducky smiled as his cell phone buzzed happily to a jaunty rendition of "Uncle Seamus' Boot." He smiled encouragingly at Tim as he retreated into the safety of his office. Cheater.

"Boss…"

"I need the short version on this McGee. Is she ok?" Tim worried his bottom lip slightly.

"I think so." Gibbs covered the distance between them in a few short strides.

"You think so! You think so! What the hell kind of answer is that?" The air from the previous balloon deflation found its way back inside and began to pump McGee into a level of anger he'd been waiting to unleash all day.

"It's the only answer I fucking have!" he shouted right back into Gibbs' face. Jethro stood there for the slightest of moments; the move from McGee had not been expected. Gibbs, not to be outdone, moved right back into McGee's face.

"Then you better think of another one."

"Physically she'll be fine." Jethro took a step back.

"And?"

"I don't know!" he pulled the fist he was already making even tighter. Gibbs, sensing the younger man's obvious distress and loss of control, grabbed Tim by the shoulders and shook him slightly.

"Calm down. Whatever we are doing is not helping Abby. I need answers McGee and right now you are the only person who is going to give them to me." He'd softened his tone slightly. Tim let out a long even breath and pulled away from his boss' grip.

"Look, everything has just happened really quickly. Last night, I picked Abby up from a long night and when we got home I found out that she had a stab wound. She wouldn't let me take her to the hospital or anything; some hack job gave her stitches. It's been a long night." He leaned heavily against an autopsy table to try and ease the tension in his body. His crossed arms tried to cover the slight tremors that were racking his tired flesh. Gibbs looked furious.

"You didn't take her to the ER? What the fuck McGee!" McGee just hung his head and listened. He'd asked himself that question so many times in the last 12 hours he didn't think hearing it more would matter. Gibbs grabbed him roughly by the front of the shirt.

"Where is she now?"

"At home Jethro, let go of the boy's shirt and get some control over yourself. We have better things that need tending. I'm going to see her now." Ducky announced as he strode quite quickly from his office and out of the Autopsy doors. Gibbs gave one last shake to his agent and moved to follow Ducky.

"Do not interrogate her. She is in good hands and is not up answering questions right now." Gibbs stopped and turned to look at Tim.

"Was that an order McGee?" His tone said "Don't-Make-me-Come-Over-There-and-Show-You-Some-Orders," but his eyes were sparkling with something akin to shock and pride. McGee shook his head as he moved toward the doors also.

"No, it was a request. Gibbs…there has been a lot going on that neither one of us has known anything about and it's not easy to explain just now. We have to give her some space and…"

"McGee was that an order?" Tim looked him in the eye. Something in the back of McGee's brain told him that this would come back on him someday, but his heart silenced the warning and gave him the strength to stand his ground.

"Yes. Leave that part alone." Gibbs stared at him for a good minute but Tim did not back down. Something like approval flitted across baby blues.

"Fine. Suspect?"

"Yes and he is supposedly going to be very easy to find according to my sister." Gibbs nodded. He was surprised to here Sarah was in on this; he knew so little about her or her relationship with her brother and Abby. This problem was getting more mysterious by the second.

"Anything else?"

"My sister is with her. Do not question her unless I'm with her. She's not doing very well either." Jethro's eyes turned down slightly at the statement. Who had been stupid enough to mess with an agent's sister and girlfriend? He placed a tentative hand on McGee's shoulder; trying his hardest to convey his sympathy- a hurting loved one shared their pain with everyone.

"McGee what happened?" he asked as gently as he could over the mounting anger he felt coursing through his body.

"I'll explain on the way." They left with a cloud of unresolved anxiety hovering gloomily over them.

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"Ah, I see she woke early," Ducky smiled as he removed the IV line from her arm. He knew she had a hard problem with drugs of any sort, her body always fought abnormally hard against them and she had to ingest larger amounts then normal to get the desired effect; hence the copious amounts of Caf-Pow! in her system during most of her numerous waking hours. His smile dimmed slightly as he checked her temperature and noticed it was still elevated.

"Sarah, when was she last conscious?" Ducky asked as he took another blood sample from her and checked the wound he'd so tediously fixed that morning.

"Uh, she was talking to me right before I called you. Is everything ok? Has something just happened?" the slight panic edging her words made her rise to her feet and try to draw nearer to Abby's side. McGee gently placed his hand on her elbow to still her. She looked helplessly from her place on Abby's wall. Ducky was silent as he checked her vitals. The group continued to watch in silence, Sarah's question hung oppressively in the air. After another 20 minutes of anxious waiting, Ducky finally turned to face his friends.

"I don't want to say this, but if Abby continues on the way she is now, I'll be taking her to the hospital myself." McGee and Gibbs were instantly on their feet.

"What happened?" Gibbs demanded. Ducky shook his head.

"It's just the way her body is not responding to the antibiotics. It may just be my nerves over her well-being; they haven't quite had enough time to run their course. I'm just afraid that too much infection set in and I wasn't able to all of it out in time."

"When will we know?" McGee asked quietly.

"Let's give it another 2 hours. After that, we will re-dose and wait another 4 hours. If there is no change by 8:00 tonight, we should take her in." The three nodded at the plan and settled heavily back into their chairs. After a pensive three minutes, Gibbs rose swiftly from his chair and headed out of the bedroom.

"You two McGees follow me. Now." He said quietly. The quiet command in his voice startled Sarah and she was reminded of her time at NCIS when she was a suspect in that nightmare of her life. She shuddered but followed closely behind her brother anyway. Ducky was left staring at the strange mosaic that was Abby's door and hoping that by some miracle, everything would return to normal.

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The three sat uncomfortably in Abby's eclectic living room. Gibbs had seen the room many times but was still surprised by the knick-knacks that seemed to pop up in the strangest places. For example, she had a little figurine of a deranged looking monkey in the small philodendron that spilled from the antique birdcage swinging from the ceiling. He smirked at the monkey and received a ravenous stare for his efforts. Oh Abby. Gibbs looked at the young woman in front of him. She was staring at her feet, her leg bounced up and down nervously, and her arms crossed around her middle like a shield between her and the icy blues penetrating her mind.

"Sarah," he said after some silence. McGee shifted in his chair and continued to watch Gibbs and Sarah. Sarah looked up at Jethro briefly before returning her gaze to her socked feet. Gibbs tried to turn down some of the intensity.

"Sarah, I know you don't want to talk right now, but I need to know what happened." Sarah opened her mouth to talk but closed it again as she let out a quiet breath. He gently moved around the coffee table and sat beside her on the plush couch.

"Sarah, Abby may suffer more if you don't tell us what happened last night. She was attacked with a weapon and that weapon could have any number of things wrong with it that could make Abby sick. Don't you want to catch the guy that did this?" Sarah shook her head.

"I don't care about him; he's going to hell anyway. What could a knife have that could make Abby sick?"

"Sarah you are avoiding my question. I will answer yours if you answer mine." Sarah let out a shaky shudder and leaned back into the comfort of the couch. She caught a bit of Abby's scent on the throw that lazed over the back of the couch. Her resolve melted.

"Ah well, it's really not a long story…"her voice trailed off as she moved further into the corner of the couch. McGee was waiting on pins and needles. Part of him wanted to know so badly he didn't care if she broke down or never talked to him again. The other part wanted to hold her and help her as she cowered under Gibbs' interrogative techniques. It was her college nightmare all over again. He wouldn't let her fall as hard this time. Not anymore.