A/N: Yeah...I wrote this sometime last year...kinda. Anyway, I'm a big fan of NCIS, and although I'm more leniant towards Gibbs/Abby, I settled for McGee/Abby for this short little fanfic. This is one of those fanfics that you put your ITunes/IPod on shuffle and write a story that goes along with each song. I did another one of those, too...I'll have to look for it...
I. Epiphany – Staind
Timothy McGee turned around to face Abby Sciuto, the NCIS forensic expert. He struggled to put a smile on his face, but her own smile made Timothy feel tormented inside. Abby flung her arms around his neck and hugged him close, still smiling broadly. Timothy hugged her back, his face pensive, his brow furrowed. Abby stepped back and cocked her head, looking at him with her dark eyes.
"Are you okay, McGee?" she asked, her voice innocent.
"Oh, um, yeah." McGee nodded his head quickly. "I'm fine. What's up?"
"Oh, well, I finally got the results for the blood tests."
"Well, it seems they belong to someone other than our dead Marine."
As Abby began on her explanation and led McGee by the hand to her lab, Timothy listened to her voice, his heart beating slowly, unsteadily. He let her talk, his thoughts depressed.
He was in love.
II. Boozehound – Harry Connick, Jr.
McGee sat down at the bar and ordered a drink, unsure what he was doing there. His mind was in a haze. The bartender handed him his drink, and McGee accepted it with a nod of thanks. The drink was cold in his hands, the glass beaded with water. He took a sip and swallowed it thickly, his face contorting into an expression of disgust. He was still wondering why he was drinking. It wasn't normal for him. However, despite this, he downed the drink and asked for another one. The bartender glanced at him warily, as if he were afraid of something, and handed McGee another drink.
Slowly, agonizingly, McGee went through that drink and another before stopping and slipping off his chair. He climbed back to his feet, slurring, "I'm fine, I'm fine."
The bartender stopped cleaning the glass he held and affixed McGee with a stern gaze. "Something wrong, boy?"
"Does it look like something's wrong?" McGee asked.
"Yes, it sure does, boy." The bartender pursed his lips for a moment. "Does this have to do with a girl?"
McGee shook his head, but his voice stated, "Yeah."
"What's the problem?"
"I…love her, and she…don't realize it," McGee mumbled, mixing up his tenses. "'S'not like I can go after her or anythin'."
"And why not?"
"'Cause…'cause…'cause I can't." The room seemed to whirl around McGee, and he gripped the counter unsteadily. "I'm not…worthy…"
McGee lost his grip on the counter and spiraled down into unconsciousness, not feeling the floor as he crumpled down upon it.
III. Reason to Believe – Harry Connick, Jr.
McGee slowly lifted his head, wincing as pain exploded inside his skull. He groaned, feeling nauseated, and sank back onto a pillow. Startled, he sat up straight, the wave of nausea nearly overcoming him. He glanced around slowly, his neck stiffening up on him. He recognized the room – his room. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.
McGee glanced up to see Abby rushing towards him. She tackled him in a hug, knocking him back down onto the bed. She planted a large kiss on his cheek.
"Oh, McGee, you had me so worried!" she exclaimed, sitting up.
"Abby…you're sitting on me," McGee pointed out, slightly uncomfortable as his face grew warm and flushed red.
"Oh! Sorry McGee." After letting McGee sit upright again, Abby grabbed him in another hug. "But I was worried about you, McGee! Since when do you drink?"
"Since when do you care?"
McGee immediately regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. He wasn't sure how Abby would react; he couldn't believe the harshness and curtness that his words seemed to have been dipped in. He looked at Abby sharply. Abby shook her head, her eyes flickering, and smacked McGee lightly upside the forehead.
"Silly, McGee," she stated, shaking her head again as she let go of him and got back to her feet. "I've always cared."
With that, she strolled out of the room. McGee, stunned by her words, heard Abby rummaging around in the kitchen. She called out to him, "You hungry, McGee?"
"Yeah, a bit," McGee called back, sluggishly getting to his feet. Abby's words replayed over and over in his mind. He couldn't believe it. And, yet, he did. Yes, he did believe it. A small, puzzled smile crossed his face, and he stumbled into the kitchen.
IV. Haunted – Kelly Clarkson
McGee paced around the room, shaking his head, feeling terrible. Abby was gone. He couldn't believe it. Nobody could find her. She wasn't at her home. She wasn't in her lab. She wasn't in the elevator. She wasn't seeking paternal comfort from Gibbs.
She was gone.
McGee sunk down to his knees, his head pressed into the edge of Abby's lab table. His shoulders shook, and he felt so weary, so tired, and yet so full of angst. He fought for breath as tears slipped down his cheeks, staining his shirt, forming a puddle on the floor. Abby's face, her beautiful smile, flashed in his mind.
He had to find her.
V. Stay Awake – Harry Connick, Jr.
He had to stay awake. McGee fought to stay awake. His eyelids felt heavy, felt as though they had been filled with sand and were driven to drop over his eyes and stay there. He had to find her. He had to find Abby. Tony and Ziva glanced at him warily, worried. His face was drawn, and his voice was warn, full of pain and agony. His clothing was disheveled, and his hair was mussed, tossed all around. Deep bags were under his eyes.
"Her parent's house!" he exclaimed loudly, jumping up from his seat, his eyes frantic, bloodshot. "She's at her parents' house! Why didn't I think of that before?"
McGee grabbed his keys and nearly bowled over Gibbs. Gibbs grabbed McGee by the shoulders, his own face somewhat haunted and lacking sleep. "Get a hold of yourself, Tim!"
"How can I?" McGee cried. "How can I when we can't find her? I know where she is, Gibbs, and I'm going to get her!"
McGee wrenched himself from Gibbs's grasp and stumbled to the elevator.
"Timothy McGee," Gibbs called behind him, "you aren't the only one missing her!"
As the elevator doors opened, McGee glanced over his shoulder at Gibbs, and said, his voice low, trembling, "I know."
VI. Easy to Love – Harry Connick, Jr.
McGee pulled up to Abby's parents' house and slammed the car into park, leaping out of the car without realizing that he had left the car on. He ran up to the door and knocked hard, his knuckles burning with each fierce smack. The door open, and Abby's mother stood there, squinting at McGee.
"Timothy!" she exclaimed, recognizing McGee. "What's the matter?"
"Is Abby here?"
"Yes, she's upstairs." Abby's mother dropped her voice. "I wouldn't go up there if I were you, Timothy. She's not in a good state of mind."
"I need to see her," McGee said, sliding past Abby's mother.
McGee took the stairs three steps at a time, nearly tripping on the lip of each step, and almost threw himself at Abby's bedroom door. Abby stood in the middle of the room and looked up sharply as McGee entered. Seeing her, standing there, alive and well, made McGee go weak at the knees, and he rushed to her, embracing her tightly. Tears of joy spilled down his face. Abby, herself, was crying, but she didn't hug him back.
Finally, McGee broke away and held Abby by the shoulders, trying to see her through his watery eyes.
"I was so worried about you!" he cried, shaking his head. "You didn't call, you weren't at home, you weren't in your lab…I couldn't find you! I thought that something had happened to you!"
"Why were you worried?" Abby asked sharply, her voice wavering. "Why should you care?"
The words were familiar, and they stabbed McGee in the heart like a knife. He swallowed thickly, and he wanted to say, Because I love you – because you captured my heart so easily...
He couldn't form the words. He managed to say, "Why wouldn't I care?"
VII. Breathe Easy – Blue
Abby shook her head and shrugged, tears still streaming down her face. "You still haven't answered my question, McGee. Why would you care?"
McGee searched Abby's eyes, his mouth slightly open, searching for the right words. "I care, Abby, because…because – because I can't sleep if something is wrong with you. I can't go to work and not see you for the whole day because I need to see you. I can't deal with it when you go date some other guy, or when I try to pick up a girl and think of you instead of that girl. I care about you because you care about me, Abby. I care because I can't think of anything but caring for you." McGee dropped his head down and glanced at his feet, his shoulders shaking. The words had come out in a rush, almost a slur.
"I couldn't breathe right this whole time, Abby," he said. "I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think…I couldn't function! I missed you, Abby. You didn't call, you didn't tell me where you were. All I could think was that something was wrong, that something had happened…that, if the worst had happened, I hadn't been there to try and stop it."
VIII. (I've Had) The Time of My Life – Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes
Abby merely stared at McGee, speechless. McGee looked up at her, his eyes mournful, his shoulders still shaking. "You've…affected me, Abby – I can't help it. You…you are the best thing that has happened to me. I can't lose you. I won't. I won't be able to deal with it. When you were stalked by that…psycho, I was terrified for your life. I wanted to go in there and throttle the guy, tell him to lay off and that I'd personally wipe his blood and guts off the walls if he didn't leave you alone.
"You've changed me – for the better, Abbs. You are so beautiful, and gorgeous. You're smart, and, sometimes, a bit eccentric, but I like that. I like everything about you. I can't help it. I feel like I've soared a hundred feet when you hug me, and I don't know what the feeling in my stomach is. It feels like something I've never felt before, something so beautiful and so pure." McGee inhaled deeply and stared Abby straight and levelly in the eye, his voice faltering. "I...I love you, Abbs. I love you."
IX. It Doesn't Matter – Alison Krauss
Slowly, McGee dropped his hands, letting go of Abby's shoulders. He inhaled deeply again, unable to look at her levelly anymore. Her expression of surprise, of pure shock, hurt his soul terribly. He turned around and exited the room, drifting away without realizing it. He stepped down the stairs, his mind in a haze. He passed by Abby's parents, mumbling good-byes and sorry underneath his breath. He stepped out of the house, the cool blast of air smacking him in the face. He felt shattered, but, as he thought about it, maybe Abby deserved better than him.
"I don't deserve Abby," he said aloud. "If I have to cry a thousand nights, if I have to cry as long as I live…if I have to bleed for her to have the best life she can have and to find the person she deserves, than I will – without any regrets or qualms."
McGee swallowed thickly and buried his face in his hands, tears starting to stream down his face again. In his eyes, it didn't matter that his heart had been broken just by Abby's lack of a positive reaction. As long as she found somebody that would make her happy, he'd deal with the pain of spilling out his heart to her, giving it to her, and leaving with nothing in return.
X. Song for the Hopeful – Harry Connick, Jr.
His pain was more intense than what he imagined it. McGee trudged across the lawn, heavy weariness settling between his shoulder blades. His hope, his faith, had left him. He wasn't lucky, not like some people were. Vaguely, he registered headlights pulled up behind his car, but he felt so far away from his vehicle that he ignored it. His eyes, unfocused, were unseeing. The dark of the night enveloped him, strangled him. He kept to his new mantra:
This is for her. This is for her. She'll be better off. This is for her.
Tilting his head to look at the sky, McGee hoped that she would be alright, that Abby would find the right person, and that she would get the things she desperately needed…even if it didn't include him. He heard footsteps behind him, heard the grass crunching beneath feet.
The voice seemed far away. McGee stopped and pivoted on his heel tediously, his gaze drawn up to the figure running toward him. He was tackled in a fierce hug; he nearly toppled over. Abby was still crying, but the attitude, the tone of her tears, was different. McGee held onto her tightly, even though he wanted to let her go, wanted to get rid of her before he changed his mind.
And in the next instant, Abby was pressing her lips against his. McGee's heart soared in his chest, and he kissed her back, savoring it to the fullest extent. He relished the taste of her lips, and he could only picture all that red lipstick smeared over his own lips. But he didn't care. He kissed her with a fierce passion, and she kissed back just as equally fierce. When they finally surfaced for air, a look of peace and confusion was on McGee's face.
"I love you, too, McGee," Abby whispered. "I was just upset that you hadn't realized it."
McGee received another deep kiss before he could reply. "I…I never knew. I always thought – always thought that you didn't…love me back."
"But I do, McGee. I do."
Behind him, leaning against his vehicle, Gibbs said loud enough so McGee could hear, "Good job, McGee. Good job."
And, beside him, Tony nodded his head in agreement, smirked, and murmured, "Nice catch, Probie. You can finally get some sleep now."