A/N: Ok, from here on the timeline is going to get a little hinky. I cannot continue to write this fic on a day to day timeline for the rest of the story, otherwise it will get way too slow. The alternative is to finish the story at this chapter, then continue to write the rest of what I want as sequels. Anyway, enjoy. F.
"Gibbs." The pleading voice, just on the edge of whiny, broke into his concentration. He looked up to see Abby standing in front of his desk. She was paler than usual and still had a dressing on her head, but otherwise looked like her normal self. "Make them go away."
He'd been expecting this. Abby worked alone and always had, except for one ill-chosen assistant. When he thought of how Chip had tried to frame DiNozzo and kill Abby, he could sympathise with Abby's point of view. But this wasn't a normal circumstance; there was too much evidence for one lab and one forensic scientist, even one as brilliant as Abby. "Can't, Abs" he told her as he stood. There were some details he needed to check with Ducky; he wanted this investigation to be as thorough as humanly possible.
"But Gibbs..."
"Just ignore them, Abby" he told her as he pressed the button for the elevator.
...
Abby grumbled to herself on the way back to her lab. She hadn't really expected Gibbs to be able to get rid of the lab techs she'd been stuck with, but... she really hated working with other people. Not in her lab. She felt awkward and hemmed in, and they threw her off her concentration. Except McGee, she amended mentally. The thought reminded her of his nightmare of the night before. She needed to talk to Ducky, but she knew the ME was exhausted from his efforts overnight. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought it over. McGee obviously didn't want it known that he was having nightmares, and as much as she supposed it was normal to have them after what he'd been through, she was worried. Tony had her concerned as well; she'd noticed how subdued he was on the ride back from the hospital. This case was taking its toll on all of them.
...
Gibbs watched covertly from beside the stairs leading to the mezzanine. He was worried about Tony's haggard appearance and suspicious about the large amount of work he was getting done. So here he was, standing motionless in the darkened squad room waiting to see if he was right. Soon his patience was rewarded; the elevator dinged softly and Tony exited, heading straight for his desk. Gibbs checked his watch. 0300 hours. They'd left at close to 2300 hours; not enough time for Tony to have gotten any decent sleep. He moved out of the shadows, startling his senior agent.
"Boss... What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing, DiNozzo." He moved closer to Tony's desk. "This was not your fault, Tony."
He watched the younger man's face begin to crumple before he controlled himself. "I should have stopped him, Gibbs. I should have known- "
"How? I thought he was after the building; hell, we all did." He paused, leaning over the desk so he was at eye level with his agent. "McGee's injuries, Keating's stupidity; those aren't your fault either. You saved a lot of lives three days ago. Think about that instead."
He was pleased to see Tony sit up a little straighter as his words sunk in. He nodded, then turned to leave. "Go home, Tony" he threw over his shoulder, knowing that he'd gotten through.
...
As the days progressed, things slowly got back to normal, at least outwardly. After a week, the only visible sign of the devastation caused by Adams' bomb was a charred crater in the otherwise pristine grounds of the Navy Yard.
The Director had practically forced Ducky to take 2 days off after his mammoth effort autopsying the victims. On his return, Abby had visited him and told him about McGee's nightmare; she was relieved to hear it was a common reaction to trauma, at least at first. She missed the concerned frown that creased his brow after she turned to leave.
It had taken her two days to identify John Doe. They'd assumed that he'd been a member of the military at first until AFIS didn't bring up any results. Running his fingerprints through the criminal databases had the same answer. She'd switched to DNA matching instead, finally getting an ID from a tissue donor database. It turned out that he'd been on a guided tour of the Yard, and had simply gotten separated from the group. With the addition of three people who had died from their wounds in hospital, the death toll from Adams' attack stood at 9. It was widely accepted that it would have been higher if Tony and Gibbs hadn't succeeded in turning so many people back from the assembly point.
...
McGee smoothed the sleeve of his black suit for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He still couldn't extend his arm enough to get it through the sleeve properly; instead, his arm was in a special sling designed to relieve the pressure on his shoulder. Abby and Sarah had fussed over him, draping the empty sleeve just so and pinning the black-banded NCIS badge to his jacket. The bandages had been taken off a few days ago, along with his stitches, but his shoulder was misshapen from the scarring and the reconstruction and the jacket wouldn't sit right. Finally he gave up and walked out of the room to the hallway where Abby waited for him.
It was two weeks to the day since the explosion at the Navy Yard and a memorial service was being held for the nine people who'd been killed in the blast. Ever since Abby had told him about the service a week ago, he'd been asking his doctor for permission to go. Yesterday he'd been given the good news; he was allowed out on day release. Abby had volunteered to pick him up, but he'd held firm on one point; she was to drive his car. There was just something wrong about arriving at a memorial service in her hearse. Luckily she was one of the very few people in the world that he trusted with his beloved Porsche.
...
McGee recognised that the memorial service was well attended, but he really only registered the presence of five people once he and Abby arrived at the Yard; the remainder of Gibbs' team, plus Ducky and Palmer. He missed them all; they'd visited but it wasn't the same. He took his place next to Tony, returning the senior agent's restrained half smile, then turned his attention to the service.