gibbs/abby; the time it takes to fall
the time it takes to fall
..........|ncis; gibbs/abby; pg; He doesn't know. He's ten-plus years older than her (probably more, but he won't dwell on that) and his dad is still alive, he has his DNA, his parents kept him for as long as they could, as they still can.
He wakes up with red-rimmed eyes and a heart more full than it had been before. He takes an assessment: He's in the living room; it's morning; he's wearing the same clothes he was last night. The tea he fixed is cold. There's a heavy weight on his chest.
He blinks. Blinkblinkblink. She stirs against his half-asleep figure and licks her lips, the first signs of morning introducing themselves to her consciousness. She blinks (blinkblinkblink) and it synchronizes with his.
His arms are resting around her loosely, and he tightens them when she snuggles up into his chest. He exhales. She does, too.
"You okay, Abbs?" His voice doesn't sound like his voice, and he wonders if she recognizes it, still knows it's his voice, not some distrustful stranger's.
She does. "Yeah, I'm okay... are you? Sorry I made you sleep on the couch and all." He wants to laugh, tell her he liked sleeping on the couch, liked sleeping with her, (but not that way, never that way; he doesn't think like that, not now, not ever).
"Don't apologize, Abbs." The nickname rolls off his tongue and it hits him, that Abbs is his nickname for her, not Dinozzo's, not McGee's. It is something special. He likes it.
He likes her, too. "I really didn't mean to be such a mess last night, I just... I don't know. It's like my whole life has been a lie, you know?" No. He doesn't know. He's ten-plus years older than her (probably more, but he won't dwell on that) and his dad is still alive, he has his DNA, his parents kept him for as long as they could, as they still can. But he says he does, because he can try, really.
"I know. Look, we're here for you, okay? What I said last night still stands." She sighs and he pulls her closer. "I'm here for you."
She gives a slight laugh, and he thinks however brief, it's still a good sound to hear. "Now that, I am sure of." He can feel her smiling into his chest, and it makes him smile, like how her smiles always make him smile.
"Good. I love you, Abbs. Don't ever doubt that." If she was smiling before, he can feel her beam now. He does the same.
He feels the corners of sleep pull her down again, and he kisses her forehead as she mumbles, "I don't... I love you too, Gibbs," into his t-shirt. He could stay like this, he thinks.
He does.
..........|ncis; gibbs/abby; pg; He doesn't know. He's ten-plus years older than her (probably more, but he won't dwell on that) and his dad is still alive, he has his DNA, his parents kept him for as long as they could, as they still can.
He wakes up with red-rimmed eyes and a heart more full than it had been before. He takes an assessment: He's in the living room; it's morning; he's wearing the same clothes he was last night. The tea he fixed is cold. There's a heavy weight on his chest.
He blinks. Blinkblinkblink. She stirs against his half-asleep figure and licks her lips, the first signs of morning introducing themselves to her consciousness. She blinks (blinkblinkblink) and it synchronizes with his.
His arms are resting around her loosely, and he tightens them when she snuggles up into his chest. He exhales. She does, too.
"You okay, Abbs?" His voice doesn't sound like his voice, and he wonders if she recognizes it, still knows it's his voice, not some distrustful stranger's.
She does. "Yeah, I'm okay... are you? Sorry I made you sleep on the couch and all." He wants to laugh, tell her he liked sleeping on the couch, liked sleeping with her, (but not that way, never that way; he doesn't think like that, not now, not ever).
"Don't apologize, Abbs." The nickname rolls off his tongue and it hits him, that Abbs is his nickname for her, not Dinozzo's, not McGee's. It is something special. He likes it.
He likes her, too. "I really didn't mean to be such a mess last night, I just... I don't know. It's like my whole life has been a lie, you know?" No. He doesn't know. He's ten-plus years older than her (probably more, but he won't dwell on that) and his dad is still alive, he has his DNA, his parents kept him for as long as they could, as they still can. But he says he does, because he can try, really.
"I know. Look, we're here for you, okay? What I said last night still stands." She sighs and he pulls her closer. "I'm here for you."
She gives a slight laugh, and he thinks however brief, it's still a good sound to hear. "Now that, I am sure of." He can feel her smiling into his chest, and it makes him smile, like how her smiles always make him smile.
"Good. I love you, Abbs. Don't ever doubt that." If she was smiling before, he can feel her beam now. He does the same.
He feels the corners of sleep pull her down again, and he kisses her forehead as she mumbles, "I don't... I love you too, Gibbs," into his t-shirt. He could stay like this, he thinks.
He does.