Fic: Rewriting the Rules 23 - Swan Song [1/1]
Title: Rewriting the Rules 23 - Swan Song
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)
Rating: FR-15
Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Spoilers: 8x23 Swan Song
Category: Post-ep, Romance, Angst
Summary: What's broken can be fixed, and rules can be rewritten.
****
He stood over the body bag concealing his friend and former partner from view, almost as if he were protecting the fallen agent in death the way he'd been unable to do so in life.
He'd said goodbye but still couldn't bring himself to leave the body of Mike Franks alone in the NCIS morgue.
"You know what you've gotta do, Probie." Mike's voice, so familiar, sounded so real. Gibbs knew it was just in his mind, the memory of his friend haunting him so soon after his unexpected death but it still took all he had not to turn around to look and see if the man himself was there. "Remember what I said."
"You said a lot, Mike. What part am I supposed to remember?" Gibbs thought of the box of files in his basement, folders that had gone unread in the aftermath of his old friend's confrontation with the Port-to-Port serial killer.
"You spent most of your life surrounded by space." Mike's tone was non-judgemental in death as it always had been in life. "Space you chose to keep around you like a security blanket. Nothin' can bring them back, Probie. Nothin' can bring me back. Space shouldn't be filled with ghosts."
"Should be filled with memories," Gibbs recalled, a slight grin causing the corners of his mouth to twitch. "You preferred to fill yours with memories of naked women."
"You'd prefer to fill yours with the same. No. Not women. One naked woman in particular." Gibbs glanced over his shoulder and stared at the image of Mike Franks he knew wasn't real only to see the same, sly smile he knew so well on Mike's face. "Can't say I blame you, either."
Despite knowing the man was dead and all he could see was a grief-induced illusion, Gibbs couldn't keep himself from glaring.
Mike's only response was to chuckle, his laughter fading into coughs the way it had done in those last few days. "You can't blame me, either, Probie. She's a fine woman. Damn fine. If she weren't so crazy about you, maybe we coulda had some fun..." The grin slipped from Mike's face and he looked serious. "Take care of her, Probie. Let her take care of you. Fill the space with memories, the good kind."
The ding of the elevator arriving kept him from responding. The Mike Franks beside him disappeared and Gibbs returned his gaze to the body bag keeping the lifeless body from his gaze.
He sighed heavily, clenching his hand into a fist. "I'm gonna miss you, Mike."
****
The group hug in the elevator lasted until someone summoned the elevator to the third floor. Abby wiped her eyes and forced a smile as the NCIS agents around her got back to work. She gave Ziva's hand a quick squeeze before the other woman left the elevator, knowing her friend was taking Mike's death particularly hard. It wasn't that Mike and Ziva had been particularly close but Ziva had been through a lot, Abby knew, and the loss of someone they all knew and cared about had shaken them all.
Though the elevator had been called to the squad room, Abby was relieved that no one got on it. She moved her hand to the button for her floor but hesitated, her finger hovering over the panel.
"Go to him, Abby. He could use you right now."
Hearing Mike's voice didn't surprise her, though the fact that it didn't caused her to frown. Straightening her spine, Abby hit the button for the morgue, taking a deep breath as the metal doors slid shut.
"We're gonna miss you, Mike," she murmured aloud, her voice seeming to echo off the elevator's walls. "It won't be the same without you."
"'Course it will, darlin. You'll hardly know I'm gone."
She snorted indelicately and wrapped her arms around her middle. "I already know you're gone and it hurts. It's going to be worse for him." She closed her eyes against the sting of fresh tears and shook her head. "Who am I going to email when he tries to shut me out?"
"I'll be around if you need me, darlin'. When I'm not drinkin' tequila and entertain' the ladies, that is."
She smiled despite the tear that escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. Opening her eyes as the elevator came to a stop, Abby took a deep breath and wiped at her face with the back of her hand.
The doors to autopsy opened automatically as she approached. Her steps faltered at the sight of him, still wearing the blood stained sweatshirt he'd been wearing when he'd walked into NCIS Headquarters. His shoulders were slumped but his hands were clenched at his sides.
Dejected and hurting and angry. Never the easiest Gibbs to handle.
Still, she squared her shoulders and forced herself to keep walking forward, stopping when she was at his side. Her arms itched to reach out for him, to hold him and do anything and everything she could to take away the pain he was feeling but she kept them down at her sides, her hand close enough to his that she could feel the warmth of his skin without actually touching it.
"I can't believe he's gone." Her voice sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room, the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the refrigerated units the only other sounds.
Gibbs said nothing but tore his eyes away from the body bag long enough to glance at her. The tear tracks on her face make his heart ache and he felt a fresh surge of anger towards the killer responsible for not only taking away the life of someone he cared about but for putting those left behind through the pain of grief and loss.
"I know... I know it's too early, Gibbs, but if you want to talk or if you need... If you need me, you know where I am, okay?" Her voice was thick with tears, her body trembling as she stood beside him in the cool room. "You're not alone. I know it might feel like it right now but... you're not. You never will be."
"Don't just stand there, Probie. Give the girl a hug or somethin'."
Not needing the advice from his friend, ghost or not, Gibbs reached out and snagged Abby's hand with his own just as she turned to walk away. He turned away from the gurney holding the body bag, noting the surprise on her face as he tugged her into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply, savouring the feel of her warm body pressed against him even as her hair tickled his skin.
His mind was whirling, spinning with possibilities he hadn't considered before. Ducky had said he suspected Cobbs had been outside of his house to study him, to learn about him rather than bait him. He couldn't help but think what could've happened if Abby had been there, too, if she hadn't decided to spend an unusual night in her apartment rather than intrude on the time he and Mike had to spend together.
Couldn't help but wonder if it was the first visit Cobbs had paid to his house or if the serial killer was aware of just how much the woman in his arms meant to him.
There was nothing to suggest Cobbs had him earmarked as a victim so far but that could change, Gibbs knew. If the serial killer stopped identifying with him, decided he was a threat...
The shudder that went through him was only half-related to the body lying on the gurney behind him and his arms tightened around her reflexively. He'd lost a friend to the serial killer already. If he lost Abby, too...
"Got to go see the Director, Abby," he murmured, brushing his lips against her skin before pulling back to look at her. Understanding shone in her eyes and he loved her all the more for it in that moment. Other women would insist he stay and talk to her, demand he open his heart to her and let his grief pour out but not Abby, never Abby. "Later," he added decisively. "I'll come see you later."
"I know you will." She lifted her hand to his face, her fingers dancing lightly over his cheek. "You'll catch this guy. For Mike and for his other victims."
It was said so simply, and with so much conviction, that Gibbs felt momentarily awed by her continued faith in him. Instead of saying something - not knowing exactly what to say, if he was honest with himself - he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers tenderly.
"I'll do my best," he vowed, not wanting to make a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.
"Be safe." Abby let her hand drop from his face, her green eyes locking with his. "I mean it, Gibbs. If anything happened to you..."
She didn't finish her sentence. She couldn't. Gibbs' expression told her she didn't need to. He could too easily imagine how he'd feel if anything happened to her.
"Don't go anywhere alone," he called out as he reluctantly turned away from her, striding towards the door with determined steps. He needed to talk to Vance, and to Agent Barrett and her team.
The Port-to-Port killer case might not be his or his teams but he sure as hell wasn't going to sit by and let it stay that way.
****
End
Author: Jo. R (driftingatdusk)
Rating: FR-15
Pairing: Gibbs/Abby
Spoilers: 8x23 Swan Song
Category: Post-ep, Romance, Angst
Summary: What's broken can be fixed, and rules can be rewritten.
****
He stood over the body bag concealing his friend and former partner from view, almost as if he were protecting the fallen agent in death the way he'd been unable to do so in life.
He'd said goodbye but still couldn't bring himself to leave the body of Mike Franks alone in the NCIS morgue.
"You know what you've gotta do, Probie." Mike's voice, so familiar, sounded so real. Gibbs knew it was just in his mind, the memory of his friend haunting him so soon after his unexpected death but it still took all he had not to turn around to look and see if the man himself was there. "Remember what I said."
"You said a lot, Mike. What part am I supposed to remember?" Gibbs thought of the box of files in his basement, folders that had gone unread in the aftermath of his old friend's confrontation with the Port-to-Port serial killer.
"You spent most of your life surrounded by space." Mike's tone was non-judgemental in death as it always had been in life. "Space you chose to keep around you like a security blanket. Nothin' can bring them back, Probie. Nothin' can bring me back. Space shouldn't be filled with ghosts."
"Should be filled with memories," Gibbs recalled, a slight grin causing the corners of his mouth to twitch. "You preferred to fill yours with memories of naked women."
"You'd prefer to fill yours with the same. No. Not women. One naked woman in particular." Gibbs glanced over his shoulder and stared at the image of Mike Franks he knew wasn't real only to see the same, sly smile he knew so well on Mike's face. "Can't say I blame you, either."
Despite knowing the man was dead and all he could see was a grief-induced illusion, Gibbs couldn't keep himself from glaring.
Mike's only response was to chuckle, his laughter fading into coughs the way it had done in those last few days. "You can't blame me, either, Probie. She's a fine woman. Damn fine. If she weren't so crazy about you, maybe we coulda had some fun..." The grin slipped from Mike's face and he looked serious. "Take care of her, Probie. Let her take care of you. Fill the space with memories, the good kind."
The ding of the elevator arriving kept him from responding. The Mike Franks beside him disappeared and Gibbs returned his gaze to the body bag keeping the lifeless body from his gaze.
He sighed heavily, clenching his hand into a fist. "I'm gonna miss you, Mike."
****
The group hug in the elevator lasted until someone summoned the elevator to the third floor. Abby wiped her eyes and forced a smile as the NCIS agents around her got back to work. She gave Ziva's hand a quick squeeze before the other woman left the elevator, knowing her friend was taking Mike's death particularly hard. It wasn't that Mike and Ziva had been particularly close but Ziva had been through a lot, Abby knew, and the loss of someone they all knew and cared about had shaken them all.
Though the elevator had been called to the squad room, Abby was relieved that no one got on it. She moved her hand to the button for her floor but hesitated, her finger hovering over the panel.
"Go to him, Abby. He could use you right now."
Hearing Mike's voice didn't surprise her, though the fact that it didn't caused her to frown. Straightening her spine, Abby hit the button for the morgue, taking a deep breath as the metal doors slid shut.
"We're gonna miss you, Mike," she murmured aloud, her voice seeming to echo off the elevator's walls. "It won't be the same without you."
"'Course it will, darlin. You'll hardly know I'm gone."
She snorted indelicately and wrapped her arms around her middle. "I already know you're gone and it hurts. It's going to be worse for him." She closed her eyes against the sting of fresh tears and shook her head. "Who am I going to email when he tries to shut me out?"
"I'll be around if you need me, darlin'. When I'm not drinkin' tequila and entertain' the ladies, that is."
She smiled despite the tear that escaped her eye and ran down her cheek. Opening her eyes as the elevator came to a stop, Abby took a deep breath and wiped at her face with the back of her hand.
The doors to autopsy opened automatically as she approached. Her steps faltered at the sight of him, still wearing the blood stained sweatshirt he'd been wearing when he'd walked into NCIS Headquarters. His shoulders were slumped but his hands were clenched at his sides.
Dejected and hurting and angry. Never the easiest Gibbs to handle.
Still, she squared her shoulders and forced herself to keep walking forward, stopping when she was at his side. Her arms itched to reach out for him, to hold him and do anything and everything she could to take away the pain he was feeling but she kept them down at her sides, her hand close enough to his that she could feel the warmth of his skin without actually touching it.
"I can't believe he's gone." Her voice sounded loud in the otherwise quiet room, the sound of their breathing and the gentle hum of the refrigerated units the only other sounds.
Gibbs said nothing but tore his eyes away from the body bag long enough to glance at her. The tear tracks on her face make his heart ache and he felt a fresh surge of anger towards the killer responsible for not only taking away the life of someone he cared about but for putting those left behind through the pain of grief and loss.
"I know... I know it's too early, Gibbs, but if you want to talk or if you need... If you need me, you know where I am, okay?" Her voice was thick with tears, her body trembling as she stood beside him in the cool room. "You're not alone. I know it might feel like it right now but... you're not. You never will be."
"Don't just stand there, Probie. Give the girl a hug or somethin'."
Not needing the advice from his friend, ghost or not, Gibbs reached out and snagged Abby's hand with his own just as she turned to walk away. He turned away from the gurney holding the body bag, noting the surprise on her face as he tugged her into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply, savouring the feel of her warm body pressed against him even as her hair tickled his skin.
His mind was whirling, spinning with possibilities he hadn't considered before. Ducky had said he suspected Cobbs had been outside of his house to study him, to learn about him rather than bait him. He couldn't help but think what could've happened if Abby had been there, too, if she hadn't decided to spend an unusual night in her apartment rather than intrude on the time he and Mike had to spend together.
Couldn't help but wonder if it was the first visit Cobbs had paid to his house or if the serial killer was aware of just how much the woman in his arms meant to him.
There was nothing to suggest Cobbs had him earmarked as a victim so far but that could change, Gibbs knew. If the serial killer stopped identifying with him, decided he was a threat...
The shudder that went through him was only half-related to the body lying on the gurney behind him and his arms tightened around her reflexively. He'd lost a friend to the serial killer already. If he lost Abby, too...
"Got to go see the Director, Abby," he murmured, brushing his lips against her skin before pulling back to look at her. Understanding shone in her eyes and he loved her all the more for it in that moment. Other women would insist he stay and talk to her, demand he open his heart to her and let his grief pour out but not Abby, never Abby. "Later," he added decisively. "I'll come see you later."
"I know you will." She lifted her hand to his face, her fingers dancing lightly over his cheek. "You'll catch this guy. For Mike and for his other victims."
It was said so simply, and with so much conviction, that Gibbs felt momentarily awed by her continued faith in him. Instead of saying something - not knowing exactly what to say, if he was honest with himself - he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers tenderly.
"I'll do my best," he vowed, not wanting to make a promise he wasn't sure he could keep.
"Be safe." Abby let her hand drop from his face, her green eyes locking with his. "I mean it, Gibbs. If anything happened to you..."
She didn't finish her sentence. She couldn't. Gibbs' expression told her she didn't need to. He could too easily imagine how he'd feel if anything happened to her.
"Don't go anywhere alone," he called out as he reluctantly turned away from her, striding towards the door with determined steps. He needed to talk to Vance, and to Agent Barrett and her team.
The Port-to-Port killer case might not be his or his teams but he sure as hell wasn't going to sit by and let it stay that way.
****
End