"I have to," Abby whined pleadingly, crossing her legs as she sat in the old wheelie chair. "What else did you think it was for, Gibbs?"

Gibbs looked up at his forensic scientist, his cold blue eyes revealing no emotion whatsoever. Except, maybe, for a twinge of sympathy. Actually, as Abby met his gaze with one of her own, she did see it. Feelings of hurt, empathy, even. That was understandable, taking his past into account.

"She won't like it," Gibbs said softly, standing up straight and walking to the back of his own chair, placing his hands on Abby's shoulders.

"I should still tell her!" Abby protested, turning the chair around to look at him, his hands leaving her shoulders. The only evidence that he had just touched her was the lingering warmth.

Gibbs sighed, looking at Abby's face. Her expression wasn't solemn as it had been the previous night, but it wasn't smiling, or happy about this in any way. It would be harder for her to make the call than it would be for the recipient, there was no doubt. The team had no idea how hard Abby was taking it, but then again, it was Abby. Since when did she make those kind of things obvious?

As they had all previously remembered, when she was milliseconds away from death, all she did was put on her stony face and close her eyes while an ax was swung at her neck.

Gibbs couldn't help replaying the desperate scene in his head, watching it flash before his eyes. Before Abby could see, he quickly turned around. "Go for it," he said, walking away and taking his Starbucks coffee with him.

Abby didn't smile like she usually would. Her red lips didn't pull tight. Instead, she almost looked ashamed. Almost.

A few minutes later, Abby was muttering to herself, something about it being her fault as she typed a chain of commands into Gibbs' computer. Currently, her lab was locked and the "repair guy workers," as Abby referred to them, were fixing on the key card "thingy." It wouldn't be functional at least until tomorrow, so Abby was stuck jumping from Gibbs' computer, to McGee's, to Ziva's, and most regretfully, Tony's. Do you know what he keeps on there?

After a moment a loading screen popped up and Abby froze, her eyes fixating on the bright monitor in front of her. This time, her expression changed to resemble that calm, contemplating, serious look she had of hers. Then again, it wouldn't be easily recognizable over the grainy computer screen, now would it?

For Abby Sciuto, hopefully not.

After a brief few seconds the loading screen filled up and let out a bleep. The young woman didn't move as a box opened up, loading the image in front of her.

There was a woman that was at least thirty years older than Abby. Her hair was dark, long, and wavy. Her cheekbones smoothed into her face and her eyes were a grayish green, but they showed brilliantly, even over the computer. There was a pretty gleam to her demeanor though, and she tilted her head and gave Abby a bright white smile with the same full lips.

Abby, in a striped black and red t-shirt, her black leggings with tiny white skulls on them, and a pair of black lace up combat boots on, couldn't bring herself to smile back.

The bullpen was quiet. Gibbs would be returning soon and McGee went home early, leaving Ziva and Tony to unknowingly witness Abby's silent conversation with Annabelle.

Annabelle, surrounded by plush couches, a plasma screen TV over a gray stone fireplace, polished wooden flooring, and an abstract tapestry hanging on the wall, frowned, her mouth twisting slightly to the side as her slender hands came into view. In a quick succession of movements and signs, Abby was able to understand.

Abigail? Is something wrong?

Abby sighed, shifting her position a bit. In fact, just looking at Annabelle in the computer screen, the forensic scientist felt as if she were looking into a mirror, gazing into her similar green eyes.

Yeah, Abby signed back, then let her hands drop to her lap. Ziva and Tony raised their heads to look at her curiously as Abby lifted her hands again and continued to sign. Sean's dead. Abby's eyes flicked away from the screen, towards the ground as she leaned backwards a bit in Gibbs' chair.

She did catch Annabelle's response in the corner of her eye, though. How? Abby was able to distinguish, Annabelle's shaking hands making it difficult. Through the computer, the agents closest, meaning Abby, Tony, and Ziva, could hear the beginning sounds of sobbing.

"Abby, what's wrong?" Ziva inquired, standing up from her desk and walking around to stand in front of Gibbs', where Abby was seated. Tony leaned back in his own desk, curiosity etched on his face.

"It's not me," Abby responded, unmoving except for her eyes, which looked up at Ziva and then at the computer screen. On it, Annabelle was beginning to tear up, streaks running down her cheeks and her hands visibly shaking. When Ziva got the hint, she stood still, peering down to observe Abby's reaction. And, she had to admit to herself, to watch Abby signing; she had heard of it, but hadn't yet witnessed it. Herself being able to speak multiple languages fluently, she was intrigued by a language that didn't involve speaking at all. Especially of the means by which Abby had to learn it.

I think you already know that. For the first time since the NCIS took on the case of Sean Scuito, a tear rolled down Abby's pale cheek. A single tear, alone, as it dropped onto Gibbs' desk. Ziva wanted to reach out to her, unknowing of what they were actually "speaking" about, but thought better of it. Annabelle, Mrs. Sciuto, might see her and avoid Abby.

Loud sobs were now emanating from the computer as Annabelle pressed her forehead to her desk. Her body shook, from her head to her shoulders, or as much as Abby could see of her.

The strong, pungent smell of coffee made itself known in the bullpen, catching the trio's attention to the opening elevator. Fresh from speaking with Ducky in autopsy, the coffee cup was accompanied by a Gibbs, smiling a little from his brief talk with Ducky. Tony looked on curiously, wondering what Ducky could have possibly said to get his boss in this good a mood, and how quickly it would vanish.

Tony, while arrogant and obnoxious at times, was not ignorant. He had seen that tear make its path down Abby's cheek, he had seen her signing to the webcam stationed on Gibbs' computer, and he could hear the sobs. By now, it was obvious to both Tony and Ziva what was going on between Abby and Annabelle, but to Gibbs, it took a little while.

Once the elevator closed, Gibbs walked over to the bullpen, quickly picking up on the sound of sobbing. All he could see was the back of Abby's head, her hair pulled tight in her usual pigtails, and Ziva and Tony looking up at him intently.

"What did I miss?" Gibbs questioned, feeling his smile dwindle as he walked over to Tony's desk, and then turned around and looked at Ziva and Abby. Ziva's gaze was fixed on him, but Abby was watching the computer with somewhat of a sad look about her, one that was difficult to place.

Abby, unable to get Annabelle's attention due to the fact that she was completely deaf, had to wait until she was able to raise her head. Instead, Ziva spoke.

"Abby, are you alright?" she asked, unsure of how to approach. Anyone at NCIS, and any case victims, could tell you that Ziva was not good with women, emotions, and anything unrelated to Mossad, terrorists, etc. She was even more unsure, what with the fact that the woman she was left to comfort was her friend and co-worker. It was just like any other case though, wasn't it?

Yes, it had to be that simple. The women she questioned were always somehow related to the victim, the dead body left to be found. It was Ziva's job typically to sympathize and get answers at the same time. With Abby's strange remark the previous night, that she had known who the killer was, it was time she started giving some answers. However, she had come in late that day and had to go straight to work, sending off a report that had been requested of her. After that, she hadn't shown her face all day until about half an hour ago, when she came up to report that they were fixing the "key thing-a-ma-bob" and she couldn't enter her lab until it was repaired. There had been no time to interrogate her, and the team was even intimidated; how would Abby respond? So far, she had shown no visible signs. With no way to tell how she was coping with this, getting answers out of her was going to no doubt be tricky, to say the least.

"I'm fine, thanks Ziva," Abby looked up at her, unable to muster a smile with the grave news she had just gave to her unprepared mother. "She isn't, though," Abby sighed, pointing to the monitor, with sobbing sounds still coming from it.

"She's not taking the news well?" Tony asked from his seat, slightly obscured by Gibbs.

"Who would take it well, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, setting his stare onto the man in question.

Tony sighed. "Good point, boss."

As if on cue, Tony stood up and along with Gibbs, made their way around Gibbs' desk to look over Abby's shoulders, shortly followed by Ziva. With Annabelle still sobbing into her desk, Abby tried waving her hand a little to get the woman's attention.

When that didn't work, Abby tried waving her hands frantically, which finally got her attention. She raised her head and already her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were stained with tears. The hair surrounding her face was wet and messy, stuck to her forehead and cheeks here and there. Her mouth was still turned down.

"Tell her we give the Sciuto family our condolences," Gibbs told Abby, being in no place to sign it to the woman himself. Abby quickly translated it for him, gesturing and getting the message across in a flurry of movements.

I'll tell your father, Annabelle signed, and then hesitated. Thank you. Another hesitation as she almost squinted into the screen, looking at the people situated behind her daughter.

Couldn't Jethro have told me himself? Annabelle asked, causing Gibbs to chuckle in the background. If it were anyone else, both Ziva and Tony would have elbowed him in the ribs, but it was their always serious boss. Besides, they had no idea what the context was that he was chuckling at exactly.

Abby sighed with the slightest hint of a smile, rolling her eyes as she leaned back completely. "She says," Abby reported, "why couldn't Jethro," Abby emphasized his name, as put in her mother's terms, "tell her himself."

Gibbs, in response, signed as best as he could from his current position into the camera, hesitating for a millisecond here and there, as his signing was still a bit rusty. I think it's more of a private conversation between mother and daughter. He smiled slightly, remembering Kelly for a second before returning to earth. Annabelle simply nodded in response, sobbing once more and using her sweater sleeve to wipe away the stray tears left on her face.

Thank you for telling me, Abby, she signed almost sluggishly, her hands still shaking.

You're welcome, was Abby's only response, but as if they were speaking, Annabelle cut her off.

She seemed almost panicked when she signed back, leaning forward. Abby, you know you can't—

Abby cut her off, waving her hands to stop her. Slowly, her mother lowered her hands, looking almost worriedly at Abby. It was hard to tell over the computer screen.

Gibbs frowned, looking at the top of Abby's head.

"What happened?" Tony asked innocently. There was no way he or Ziva could have known the tense moment that had just taken place.

"What did happen, Abby?" Gibbs questioned as if he were interrogating her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She didn't move, but her mother's gaze didn't falter. "What can't you do?"

"Is that what she said?" Ziva asked, first looking at silently crying Annabelle and then Gibbs himself.

"Um, can't let my mind stray too far from work!" Abby covered up quickly, offering them a smile that the team could place as fake in a second, but didn't.

I have to go, Abby signed quickly to her mother without an explanation. The woman simply nodded and Abby hurriedly ex-ed out the screen, revealing Gibbs' plain blue desktop with case files and pictures littering it.

"There's something you're not telling us, Abby," Gibbs remarked leaving the crowded little area to face Abby from the other side of the desk. Ziva and Tony remained on her sides, leaning against the back of the chair. Tony noticed out of the corner of his eye that Abby's hands were twitching in her lap, squeezing her fingers and then letting go.

The young woman sighed, figuring better now than never. The situation was only going to get worse. She knew how it was all going to play out and how she herself would end up, but the details were fuzzy. There was an outline she could easily identify, and it involved something along the lines of what the team had already discovered. She couldn't tell them that now, however; it was much too soon. There was something she could say.

"Do you do jigsaw puzzles for fun, Gibbs?" Abby leaned forward to look at him straight in the eye. "Other than for work, I mean," she said with a brief gesture of her hand before putting her elbows on the desk and resting her chin in her palms. "Do you do jigsaw puzzles like a game?"

The three looked at her as if she were in a mental ward, but only Gibbs responded, meeting her gaze as he usually did. Instead of asking the obvious, he instead responded, "I'm pretty good at them."

"Let's hope so," Abby said with a genuine smile, but one that hinted at other meanings behind it as she stood up and walked around Tony, exiting Gibbs' desk. Without looking back she pressed the button to the elevator which opened without a single delay, let her in, and then closed in on her as it took her downstairs to her lab, which she was determined to try getting into for the thirteenth time.

There were very few means of keeping Abby Sciuto out of anything for very long.