Chapter 9
Gibbs unloaded her bag and put it on the front steps. She'd opened her door and put her feet on the footpath. Gibbs strode towards her, swept her up in his arms and carried her into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom.
She clung to his neck with her skinny arms, trying not to take in his smells and the warmth of his chest beneath his shirt. Trying to not forget that he'd just said that he was only doing this because no one else could do it as well, and not because he loved her.
She mentally slapped herself. Hope sprang into her chest, it was just like Gibbs to hold back his feelings. And if he did have this particular feeling than he'd definitely be wanting to hide it. Of course he didn't want any one else to take care of her, only his care would be good enough. He was over protective because he cared. It was the amount he cared that was important to her at this moment.
She took a step back from these thoughts, what if she were completely mistaken? What if this was just duty and there was no emotion behind it. He was wrong when he said that it wasn't about obligation, in fact it was all about obligation no matter which way she looked at it. But she couldn't let herself assume that he loved her, that could completely screw up everything they had.
Gibbs took the stairs easily, carrying her as if she were incredibly light. He was painfully aware that her hair wasn't brushing up against his face, and he wondered how she felt about its removal. Every section of his skin which was making contact with hers lit up his sensory nerves like a light show. He tried not to notice her warmth, her lips, the nape of her neck. He tried to be mechanical.
He laid her gently on the bed, his bed.
"I'll be taking the couch." He explained.
The right corner of her mouth seemed to twist upwards a little, but the movement disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
She nodded instead of speaking, unsure what to say because she was unsure what she wanted to hear in return.
"I'll be right back." He went downstairs to get her things.
Abby took the time to look around his bedroom, she'd seen it before. She'd slept here before, after a few drinks. He'd always taken the couch, like the gentleman he was. She scanned the immaculate room, almost devoid of reminiscent personal items. One photo, no useless trinkets. She compared his room with her own untidy lair, she had millions of photos and weird trinkets.
She heard footsteps on the stairs and turned her head to greet him once more in the doorway.
But the steps ceased.
She stiffened.
There were more footsteps, lighter.
Her breathing increased.
She opened her mouth to call Gibbs, but something told her not to make herself known.
The person was coming closer, she could hear them moving, sidling up to her room. She couldn't take her eyes off the doorway, she couldn't do anything without making a noise.
An arm appeared in the doorway, the back of an arm with a black sleeve.
Gibbs had been wearing blue.
Her heart stopped, her throat closed, she stopped breathing. All the blood seemed to rush from her face.
There was a gun in the hand of the anonymous arm.
The arm turned into the doorway, the rest of the body was following it. They were coming into the room.
She started to edge to the other side of the bed, breathing fast, mind reeling.
A jawline appeared, a mans face.
" Gibbs!" She screamed.
Ari. Ari was here.
"Hello Abigail." He spoke calmly without fear of any interuption. That calmness scared her more than the gun, that calm voice meant that there was no Gibbs to stop him. That he was incredibly self assured.
"Gibbs!!" She screamed. No tears yet, just disbelief.
Ari smiled. He had one of those smiles that you just knew was never a good thing. That smile was triumphant, victorious. It was the signal of doom, even if it was placed on a handsome face.
She was on the edge of the bed, her wounds screaming out at the stresses on her twisting limbs and torso. She crawled backwards, trying to get off the bed. Instead she fell.
She lay pathetically, uncomfortably on the carpeted bedroom floor. Her stitches tearing, and blood emerging from wounds which had closed days ago.
She started to cry, sobbing. She was helpless. No weapons, weak, alone.
"Gibbs" she cried pathetically.
Ari came to stand over her, his movements slow and confident. His gun poised, his head tilted as if taking in the scene, sadistically dragging out the inevitable.
"You killed Kate, didn't you." It wasn't a question.
Ari stopped smiling, he looked at the floor for a moment, eyebrows drawing together.
"I really am sorry about Caitlin."
Abby's face went from fear to anger in a second.
"You bastard." She spat.
The smile lit his face once more, as if he enjoyed the verbal attack.
He seemed to think that that was enough talking however, he began to advance ominously. She scrambled to escape him, looking for an exit, or a weapon, anything that could get her out of this situation.
There, under the bed, her peripheral vision picked up on the baseball bat, tucked neatly in reaching distance. She'd have to be quick, he did have a gun after all.
"Why?" she glared at him.
"It's obvious," he lifted his eyebrows, "To hurt your boss. Special agent Leeroy Jethro Gibbs." He drew out each word like a smoker inhaling.
He lifted his hands for a moment like a small shrug.
She took that moment to snap up the baseball bat.
She found new strength in this object, rage filling her as she was reminded that this man had killed her best friend. She lifted it and swung hard at his knees, bringing it down with a bang as it shattered his patella.
He shouted out in anger as she brought him down.
She slid out of his falling vector and slammed the bat onto the wrist which raised the gun in her direction. Then she smacked him on the back of the head and half ran half dragged herself out of the bedroom, gripping the bat with all her strength. Frantically trying to get out of the house and into public, grasping at the bannister she attempted to scale the stairs. But her broken leg made it almost impossible.
She got down on her front and crawled as fast as she could.
"Gibbs!" she screamed over and over, out of breath.
She was reaching the bottom of the stairs, she saw the open door onto the street, her bag lay on its side on the threshold.
"Gibbs," she whispered in fear.
Trying to shake the what-ifs that currently plagued her she continued her slow descent.
But he was there, hand on her leg, snatching the bat out of her hands in anger. Squinting as if he had a headache, which she hoped he did.
He snarled at her, but his face soon softened as she realised that she was comprimised.
"You don't stop fighting, I like that." The smile was back.
"But you're still going to kill me, right?" She said, breathless. Facing death at the barrel of his gun, she felt a sudden strength come over her, it was the end, nothing mattered.
Defiance, is what she felt.
He lifted the gun in his uninjured hand, just as accurately as if it were his preferred hand.
BANG!
She shut her eyes. A huge weight fell onto her.
But she wasn't dead. The pain she was in only eminated from the wounds she'd already sustained which were bleeding profusely now, and the pressure of the person on top of her.
She opened her glinting green eyes.
"Gibbs!" saw him standing in the doorway, arm outstretched, gun freshly fired. Her neck twisted to see him.
Ari's now-dead weight threatened to suffocate her.
"Gibbs, ow." she murmered.
He rushed forward to lift Ari off her, taking his gun. Gibbs had a huge lump on his head, Ari obviously hadn't wanted to kill him just yet.
"Abby," he breathed,"Are you alright?"
He was looking her over.
She was on a weird angle, half on the steps half not.
She reached for him, and he immediately scooped her up in his arms. She buried her face into his neck. And he did the same, kissing her on the cheek and holding her to him.
"I thought I was dead, Gibbs." She whispered into his shirt.
He closed his eyes, breathing in her scent, feeling her in his arms. He wanted to hold her tight forever.
She clung to his neck, not wanting to ever let go.
There'd been enough silence to answer her statement with feeling.
"Abby," he released her slightly so he could look into her eyes. The deep green eyes, placed on her perfect face.
She waited, eyes fixed on his, both unblinking.
"Abby," he repeated...