A BELOVED COUPLE
McGee has some dreadful news for Abby.
An established relationship story.
Warning: Major character death.
Gibbs/Ducky as a couple are also implied in this story.
Written: April 2007. Word count: 800.
McGee hesitated before going into Abby's lab.
In his hand he held a Caf-Pow. At the time he'd bought it, he had thought it would be a good idea to take it to her. Now he wasn't sure. In fact, now he thought it was a foolish idea; a cruel one. He dumped it in the bin outside her lab, swallowed hard and prepared himself.
For a moment he regretted offering to be the one to tell her. But she was his wife. She was carrying his baby. It was right and proper that he was the one. The one to tell her the most difficult thing he had ever had to tell anyone.
Knowing that he couldn't put it off any longer, he went into her lab; oddly no music greeted him. "Timmy," she cried, bounding across the lab and giving him a quick embrace. Her eyes sparkled and her pigtails bounced. "I felt him kick today."
"Did you, Abbs? That's great." McGee held her against him, tightening his grip, pulling her nearer, kissing her cheek.
After a moment or two, she pulled back and frowned at him. "Tim?" With the one word she asked so many questions.
"Abby," he said, slipping his arm around her and leading her across her lab to one of the tall chairs. Holding her, not wanting to ever let her go. "I've got something to tell you."
"What is it?" she asked. Then she said, "Ooh, is it something about the case? Have you found me something really hinky?"
"No, Abbs. It's not. It's," he swallowed hard, fighting around the lump in his throat. "It's about Gibbs and Ducky."
"What about them? Don't tell me they snuck off somewhere to - Tim, what is it? Tell me," she demanded, standing back up and taking his arms.
Unable not to, he gathered her into his arms. "Oh, Abby," he whispered. "They're dead. There was an accident. A driver lost control of his car and it smashed into the sedan where Gibbs and Ducky were, and pushed them into the path of juggernaut. They didn't stand a chance. They're dead, Abby." He waited. For what he wasn't certain.
"Dead? They can't be. They -"
"They are, my love. I'm so sorry."
"But how? Why? Are you sure? Did you see them? Maybe you made a mistake. Maybe . . ." She pulled herself from his arms and began to pace around her lab.
He watched her, wanting to comfort her, needing to comfort her. Wanting her to comfort him, needing her to comfort him. Suddenly the gulf between them was too wide, and he moved quickly towards her, stopped her from stalking and tugged her back into his arms.
For a moment she fought against the embrace. Then she sagged, sobbed loudly, brokenly once, before burying her face in his shoulder and crying until he thought her heart would break.
He felt woefully inadequate to the task of being the comforter. She didn't need him. She needed Gibbs. Gibbs would know what to do. What to say. Gibbs would know. He always did. And if for some reason he didn't know, then Ducky would. Ducky would hold her, soothe her, comfort her, love her.
But neither Gibbs nor Ducky would ever hold anyone again.
Would ever say anything again.
It was down to him.
Down to him, Timothy McGee. Still Probie to DiNozzo, to Gibbs too from time to time. Down to him. Her husband. Gibbs himself had given Abby into his care, and he wasn't about to let him down.
Suddenly he knew exactly what to say.
The only thing he could say.
He pushed her away a little, pulling his handkerchief out and wiping her blackened face, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her lips. Then calmly, quietly, far more calmly, far more quietly than he thought he would be able to be, he told her. "Abby, I know it's sad. I know it's awful. I know we'll all, especially you, miss them. But remember, my love, they were together. That's how they'd have wanted it. Isn't it?" He waited.
She sniffed, blew her nose, bit her lip, swallowed hard, dragged the back of her hand over her eyes. Then looked at him. "Yes, Tim. Yes, that's what they would have wanted. They're together. That's all they ever wanted. They lived together. It's right they should die together. But I'm going to miss them. I'm going to miss them so much." And with that she threw herself back into his arms, now accepting the comfort her gave her, now giving him comfort of her own.
As he held her, McGee knew that he'd said the right thing. And he knew something else too: Gibbs and Ducky were lucky, so very lucky, so very, very lucky to have died together.
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