Work Text:
Gibbs sat at his desk, mulling over the cute thanksgiving invitations Kate and Abby had handed out. He hadn't been planning to go, but Ducky's overzealous enthusiasm, Tony's annoying prompting, and McGee's puppy dog eyes had convinced him.
That was before Kate had been killed. He'd sent Tony in to break the news to Abby not five minutes before, and her yell of shock and heartbreak was audible even from the bullpen. Gibbs tossed the invitation aside and buried his head in his hands.
Every head in the office turned in sympathy, as Tony guided her out through the bullpen.
McGee opened his mouth to say something, but Abby shook her head at him. Gibbs gave her a silent look that they both understood. He would find Ari if it was the last thing he did.
She didn't want condolences from anyone right now. She just wanted Kate.
Tony pulled into the parking lot, unsure of what to say to her. He was in just as much shock. Abby got out without a word.
"Wait" He said.
She turned for a moment, eyes full and sad.
"If you need anything..." Tony's offer was sincere, one of a friend.
Abby shook her head. Tony may've seen her initial reaction, but she refused him the privilege of seeing just how deep and fresh her wounds were.
"And Abby" Tony swallowed. "Don't worry about the party."
Abby shrugged and shut the door, betraying nothing.
Tony waited for her to get inside, and smashed his fist down on the dashboard. He knew the world was unfair, but it didn't stop him hating that fact.
"Do you think Abby is okay Gibbs?" McGee piped up, frustrated with the paper he was trying to write.
"She's mourning McGee" Gibbs spat back, he was again perusing the invite, trying to understand why bad things happened to good people.
"It's just, don't you think it's weird that she's going ahead with Thanksgiving even though Kate's..." McGee swallowed hard "not here?"
"If it helps Abby to keep going, then we're going to support her in that." Gibbs wondered if gagging McGee was a good idea. Flustered by the thought, he swept away from his desk, by all appearances as irate as if his coffee had been spilled.
"Good one, probie" Tony smiled, throwing a candy into his mouth. He was trying twice as hard to keep the mood light, so he wouldn't notice the absence of Kate and her biting quips.
"Hey, McGee, think you could insult my manliness?" He asked, tossing a snickers bar across the bullpen.
McGee looked confused for a moment, looked down at the chocolate, and back at Tony. "Is this what you've been stuffing your pants with all year?"
The funeral had been on Monday, and out of respect for her fallen lover Abby had endured the stiff military funeral, which Kate had earned in her service to the president and the nation.
Legally, Abby had no claim for involvement in the planning of Kate's funeral or the distribution of her estate, which made the icy air and awkward exchanges with Kate's family even harder to bear. She dropped the collar Kate had given her into the grave as the priest's somber eulogy droned across the hills. Ducky and Gibbs stood at Abby's shoulders, silently supporting her as she watched Caitlin disappear into the ground forever.
McGee and Tony stood off to the side, allowing her space as they paid their own respects.
Abby took the rest of the week off, retreating into her own world as she worked on the holiday feast. There were moments when she swore she smelt Kate's delicate perfume, or heard her off-key singing echoing through the plumbing, but every time she turned there was no one there but her and the turkey.
She hadn't washed the sheets since it had happened, Abby knew that sleep wouldn't come unless she could pretend the woman was still beside her, their limbs still tangled together provocatively.
Yet this seemingly final trace of Kate's presence in Abby's home was actually far from it. There were little things all over the place that were distinctly not Abby's style - the knick-knacks on the mantelpiece, the Ikea bookcase in the bedroom, the coats Abby loved on Kate, but wouldn't be seen dead in hanging in the hall closet that matched the pointed heels kicked among Abby's boots in the bedroom.
On Thursday morning, Abby got up early, wiping the hard-earned sleep from her eyes. She was showered and dressed by the time Gibbs arrived at eleven.
"Thank you for coming" She croaked, not having used her voice in days.
"I brought you something to drink" Gibbs gave her a half smile, his hands inexplicably empty as he showed himself through to the kitchen.
Tim walked right into Abby, a bottle of expensive port in his hands. "Sorry" He mumbled "Gibbs wanted me to give you this." He passed her the bottle, an awkward and possibly pained expression on his face.
Abby shook her head and suppressed a chuckle. "Did Gibbs finally...?"
"Yeah" McGee nodded, looking a little smug.
"Good for you, McGee" Abby said with a half smile, squeezing Tim's shoulder.
He nodded politely and followed in Gibbs' footsteps before she could see him blush.
The team had obviously coordinated, because it was mere seconds before Ducky stepped into the house.
"Abigail" He said solemnly, and for once she didn't chide him, just accepted his fatherly hug. "Death is not the final frontier" Ducky remarked. Abby's grip on him was tight but her face may have been made of stone for all the emotion it expressed.
She knew Ducky had gotten along with Kate on an intellectual level, even if she sometimes was impatient with his rambling tales, they always taught her something, and when it came to things like opera they were fine company for one another.
Ducky let Abby go with a firm pat on the back so Tony, who had been shivering on the doorstep, could step inside.
There was no cocky smile on Tony's face, and an awkward tension as he grasped for something to say. "I-I'm sorry for your loss." He said finally.
"I'm not the only one who lost her, Tony." Abby replied, watching as the emotion washed over his face.
Tony swung an arm aggressively at one of Abby's end tables, but she grabbed his arms tightly before he hit anything. He struggled for a minute, before he let the grief pour out onto her shoulder.
"It'll be okay." Abby whispered. "Eventually, it'll be okay."
It was a terrible Thanksgiving, but at least the turkey was moist.