Guys, the two reviews per chapter from always supportive duo ladybugsmomma and STLFAN are sweet, but still. Is my story really that bad? At this point, I'm only continuing because I like the story. I don't support a relationship between Abby and Gibbs other than father/daughter (Pauly Perrette mentioned she sees Abby's father as dead, which is a mistake I made earlier and please excuse me for that; I might make up for it later). Since Abby has no father and Gibbs no daughter… yeah. So, sorry about the lack of romance. By the way, let it be known I do not do filler chapters!
Anyway, take a deep breath and try your best to enjoy, even if it sucks. Thanks for the effort.
The Gibbs team was greeted the next day by a warm sun, fresh smelling air, and a general feeling of energy. That morning, Gibbs only came in with one cup of coffee and even McGee was somewhat repelled by the idea of being in front of a stinging monitor all day. Tony and Ziva were going at it constantly, following the stream of positive liveliness that had come about that day. Apparently, whatever blessing Mother Nature had decided to put upon the Navy Yard had followed through with the idiots that messed with naval officers.
Cases were slow, and that was an understatement. The biggest happening that had occurred was a gun misfiring at a Petty Officer's daughter, who had been egging her boyfriend on to try a shot with a rifle and her father had gotten over protective. Gibbs was less than happy with the ridiculousness of the situation, but with the day they were having, he felt that he couldn't interrupt anything. Even he managed to bite his sarcastic tongue.
Paperwork was the unofficial method to passing the time while still doing something productive. McGee was none too happy with this apparently agreed upon productive time-killer, but an icy stare and a sharp comment from Gibbs put him in his place and he was quiet for a while. Ziva didn't do nearly as much complaining as the two men, but she would occasionally ask her fellow teammates if a word was spelled or used correctly in her work. Tony had the least amount of patience out of the three young agents, and was constantly getting distracted by appealing websites and emails on his computer. Somehow, though, he managed to get work done, and Gibbs managed not to complain. As long as the monkey was getting work done, who was he to protest? It wasn't that often that DiNozzo worked this effeciently, anyway.
What interest Gibbs had in Tony's affairs had been spiked as he paused in his paperwork, the pen in his hand hovering above the paper. The bullpen was relatively quiet and it seemed as if the whole of the Navy had come to an unspoken agreement to shut their whiny mouths and leave NCIS alone today. When Gibbs couldn't get his mind to focus again, he let his pen down quietly on the paper and stole a glance up at his agents.
It wasn't just Tony that had his curiosity peaked. It was all of his monkeys, Tony very much included. They all seemed cheerier now, with Abby back up and running. Everything just seemed so positive all of a sudden, like Abby was the sun breaking through storm clouds. Like daughter like father, Gibbs wondered why such a subtle attack had had such a toll on his agents. Sure, for a while, he was shaken up there himself, when Abby had been this close to leaving them permanently. The thought still bothered him, but it was over and done with. He hadn't gone around moping like his agents seemed to have done. It was just their responses that had his inquisitiveness on a leash.
The team didn't see Abby often. It was him that went down to the lab to receive discoveries, to deliver her trusty Caf-Pows, to give her a kiss on the cheek and reassure her when fear found its way into her soft heart. He rarely ever gave his agents the chance to visit her on their own, which was not an issue to him at all. Ducky and Jimmy were another matter entirely, one that he wasn't focused on at the moment.
It was at this moment that Gibbs' train of thought was interrupted when yet again, Ziva lifted her head to ask how to properly spell "rapture" from an old case a few months ago. At this, an antsy Tony couldn't resist throwing a balled up piece of paper at her that he had been crumpling in his hands minutes before Ziva decided to address the team this time. His aim earned him a triumphant smile as he hit her dead-on in the forehead with precise accuracy. Ziva, startled, jumped from her seat and sent a profanity his way, which inspired him to make a sarcastic remark to counter her, which got them into it all over again. McGee glanced up briefly distracted with a tinge of amusement before delving back into his paperwork. He wanted this paperwork behind him so he could get back to his electronics, but his teammates, Gibbs included, insisted that it was healthy for him to spend some time away from the monitor on such a nice day. Did he have a choice with them around?
The patriarch of the bullpen shook his gray head in slight amusement as well, managing to find his way back to his thread of thought. What had unexpectedly hit him about this whole Abby-getting-poisoned-thing was the fact that his agents visibly cared on such a personal level. It tugged at his concrete internal walls at the mental confession that he really had seen his agents as so much more inhumane than they were—are. It had transpired to him how closely his team resembled a family, if severely dysfunctional. Truth be told, with this conclusion came reprieve, and his mind at ease, Gibbs managed to slip easily back into paperwork with a new vigor. Eventually, Ziva's Hebrew curses and Tony's endless remarks died down and they both calmed and they too continued on with their assignments.
Such constant involvement made it easy for the four gathered agents not to notice the fact that Abby never walked in that morning. Yet, Gibbs had made a visit to her later that day and she appeared as ecstatic about work as ever. Once he had left her lab she watched his back with a victorious smirk; she had entered the building through the back entrance to autopsy, where Ducky had received her with a playful chuckle and sent her on her way to the area where she dominated.
Behind their backs, Abby felt, to say the least, torn. She had chosen her path and was now obligated to stick with it by her own vices. Still, she felt extremely guilty, and was constantly questioning herself. Since pre-k, she had learned there was a line between right and wrong that could never blur, but had she managed it? In essence, was she doing the right thing? She kept lamely convincing herself that she was, but she couldn't stop herself from pushing her decision. Obviously, she was incapable of informing her team; if she did, it could compromise so much more than she was willing to bargain with. By doing what she had already decided on, she was gambling with too much already, but by not doing it, a nagging feeling told her that she would be to blame for so much worse. Her only reassurance in her choice was that they would learn later, they would know, no matter how much they hated her for it now. That was also the downside; she was more thoroughly convinced that they'd hate her, and soon.
A pained sigh escaped from between her lipstick covered lips as she clung gently to Bert, listening intently to the silence as if it would divulge to her the answers she sought and the torture that had become her own mind. It hurt more to know that even this, whatever "this" ended up being, hadn't fallen under the great acknowledgement of Gibbs yet. If even he couldn't tell, would anyone come to save her? Did she really need saving? Would she allow anyone to rescue her? Would they ever have the chance?
No, she resolved. No, they won't.
All it took was an opportunity. Unknown to her, this response was just what he wanted.
The positivity stuck around for a few days like a pleasant fog, keeping everybody in NCIS in its embrace. It was definitely a welcoming respite for the team. In all honesty, to the three younger agents, Abby's absence had sapped their energy during those days where she had been in a weakened condition, and she had become the team's band-aid. Take it off, leave a cut. Put it on, it heals. Abby was that band-aid. What deceived them was that they thought she saw their situation similarly to the way they saw it.
Feeling more confident and refreshed, Gibbs one day tentatively brought up the troubling and looming case of Sean Sciuto to his team during a day where Mother Nature decided to send a light rain their way, which was quickly turning into a full blown storm.
The rain pattered heavily against the thick glass of the NCIS building. Just minutes ago it had been light and rapid, now it was heavy and hard, and soon the irregular pattern of rain fell into the steady rhythm of an approaching thunder storm. It was under this lulling sensation that Gibbs dared bring up what had been vanquished to the back of everyone's minds.
"Any progress on Sean Sciuto?" he asked out of the blue, though none too casually. Just the name visibly chilled all of them, even flickered in Gibbs' weathered face for the weakest of moments. Ziva, Tony, and McGee all appeared to have been winded, as if punched individually in the stomachs.
Tony could swear he heard his heart pounding in his chest. This was a topic of conversation easily avoided with Abby; even though it was more personal to her, it seemed as if she were as eager to stray as far from it as possible as they were. Gibbs had brought it to Tony's attention that, as childish as it was, their wishes for this case to simply be gone would never come true. Tony felt like a kid, and the feeling alone silenced him. McGee, surprisingly, felt similarly.
Ziva, on the other hand, always had a hidden reserve of confidence that assisted her in slamming head first through invisible brick walls. This was one of those situations where this ability of hers came in rather handy. She was the first to find her words again, and when she did, they came out short and hesitantly, but they did nonetheless.
"No, Gibbs," she said, her tone voicing what nobody else could; the fact that they'd been just plain evading it altogether.
Gibbs sighed, unsure of how to best approach the tender topic. It just had to be done, and what better time?
"Let's interview Abby again," Gibbs forced himself to say. The other agents shared his discomfort, but they knew that they should get through it anyway, because it might be the key to putting all this behind them.
"I'll go get her," McGee announced, his voice deflated as he made his way to the elevator. When Gibbs stood Ziva and Tony followed suit, and they unwillingly made their way up the stairs to the interrogation room. Thankfully, as they entered and waited patiently for McGee to drop Abby off on the other side of the one-way glass, memories didn't plague them. The only thing that did descend on them was a constant ringing in their ears as Abby's faded, laced with pain screams bounced and echoed against the walls and the glass, mocking them with secrets they couldn't grasp. But that's why they were here, wasn't it?
For a minute, silence descended and covered the three in the interrogation room like a blanket. That was until the heavy door on the other side swung open with a gentle creak and the dark haired forensic scientist made her way in. Emotions registered on her face like a slideshow, but they came and went so quickly that they couldn't be placed. Doubled with the fact that she had her head bowed over the table and that she was disguising her emotions as best as possible, profiling her became an impossible task and the three agents studying her gave up on the attempt.
When McGee joined them on their side of the glass, leaving Abby alone in the spotlight that she did not enjoy in the least, he hurriedly let it be known that he would most definitely not be the one to "interview" Abby. Gibbs agreed halfheartedly and pointed out reasonably that he might be too intimidating to the young woman. Ziva was the rock that provided little comfort, leaving big brother Tony to do the dirty work. He muttered something inaudible under his breath as he was inevitably chosen, and he regretfully made his way to Abby's side.
When he did, she raised her head slowly at first; contemplating the messenger they had sent. Seeing it was Tony made it somewhat easier, and somewhat more difficult, to have to go through with this interrogation, pretending that everything in the world of Abby was fine and dandy. They understood that it was possible that it wasn't, but not in the way Abby wished they did. Communication never was her strong point.
"Abbs," Tony sighed as he sank into the seat across from her in a tone a parent might use with their children to say "what are we going to do with you."
"Yeah?" she asked, her voice surprisingly steadier than Tony had expected. He eyed her for a moment.
"I'm going to get right to the point," he said, his distaste for their current position palpable. "Tell me who the killer is."
It become apparent that he might have chosen his words poorly when she winced at the word killer, but the lack of vocal response from her gave him the a-okay to persist. Unfortunately, he had nothing left to say.
She fidgeted, seeming to weigh her options, when really, she's pondering how best to phrase an answer that satisfies him, yet doesn't give her away. It was killing her, slowly chipping away at what self preservation she held. She had wanted to take her chance, her opportunity to make this complicated plight easier, but it was passing by her as she lost her self control. No matter how firm she seemed to stay in her decision, it seemed to bend, and, broke. Her resolve crumbled in one final hit, and with it, a choked up sob escaped her.
It caught Tony's attention, and he realized his fears had been confirmed; something was wrong, and whatever it was, he seemed to have hit the nail on the head. Hell, he had barely uttered a sentence! The last thing he wanted to do was this—to cause this crying that was fast approaching—but he had to. It was his obligation as a metaphorical big brother and as a close friend to get through to her, no matter what measures it took.
And cried she did. It was just himself and Abby when tears started leaking out of the corners of her eyes, creating streaks on her cheeks that he hadn't seen in quite some time. Soft sobs emanated from her fragile body, her inner resolve having come to ruins. Instinctively, Tony reached out and let his hand rest on her shoulder, though it didn't seem to pull her out of her current state. Unsure, he sat there and compelled himself to sit through it, and it seemed to be more difficult for him than it was for her.
All of a sudden, she looked up at him strangely, like a guilty child caught drawing on the walls. Before he could even register alarm at her bizarre behavior, she was out of her seat, tears now flowing freely like a dam had broken.
Abby was berating herself as she allowed the spiteful tears to come and make themselves known, right in front of Tony and unseen to her, Ziva, McGee, and Gibbs. Ignorance was most certainly bliss. Knowledge weighed her down and, unable to comprehend, she was out of her seat before she knew it, and was out that door and down that hall, facing a curtain of uncertainty.
Though they chased after her, her feet carried her out before they could reach her, telling her that she was going the right way and she had just brought this on herself. Moments later she disappeared into a dark sheet of rain, most likely getting soaked clear to the bone.
The team stood speechless, Gibbs included, watching as the rain continued pouring down, hiding sinful secrets of its own and failing to wash them away.