Chapter 3
Tony watched as Abby led the guy who looked like Gibbs, just younger, into the conference room, trailing behind them and closing the door. He sat across from where Abby and the guy were, trying to look unthreatening. The guy had taken down Ziva. Tony had no doubt that he could overpower him as well.
“Gonna tell me what the hell is going on here?” Jet growled.
“First, would it be okay if I asked you a few questions? We can tell you who we are first, if that makes it more…comfortable for you. But I need…to clarify some things. I need to refine my hypothesis before I can explain.” Abby took a relaxed, non-threatening posture in the chair next to the Gibbs who wasn’t Gibbs. She didn’t want him to be more on edge than he already was.
“Refine a hypothesis?” he said, smirking despite the circumstances. “Ask. Not promising I’ll answer. I’m at the disadvantage here.” He deliberately placed his gun on the table as a sign of good faith, though they couldn’t know he was so accomplished a fighter that he could take them out before they blinked.
“Yeah, a hypothesis. I’m a scientist. A forensics scientist.” Looking over at Tony, she smiled, really appreciating him being there. Of all the people on the team, he had been there the longest, except for Ducky. But unlike Ducky, Tony had a gun and could protect her if things turned south. Granted, she didn’t believe Gibbs would ever hurt her. But a cornered, threatened Gibbs trying to get his freedom? Yeah, she had to be careful.
He shook his head, amused. “Nice dress code there.” Waiting for her to start asking the questions, he nodded, letting her talk in her own time. At least two on one made the odds much more in his favor.
This completely wasn’t Gibbs, Tony knew that. Not only was the hair darker, he also looked a bit younger, as if life hadn’t weighed down so hard on him. His energy was completely different and his eyes had a different light in them. The color was identical as well as the intensity, but the sadness wasn’t there. What Tony had learned to identify as a part of Gibbs. Was he a twin? Younger brother? What?
“Yeah, um…I’ve always dressed this way. It’s just me.” Self-consciously, Abby brushed her hands down her black skirt. “Okay, let’s see. What’s your name? Where do you work? When were you born?”
He would be honest with her. Something told him he needed to be. “L.J. Gibbs, friends call me Jet. I have my own business in Northern Virginia. Born?” He wasn’t sure why that mattered, but he’d humor her if it helped to get answers. “Born in 1967. Now your info.”
Tony knew Gibbs was born in ’59, not ‘67. “Anthony DiNozzo,” he said, omitting his title for now. Until they knew what was going on, he didn’t want to give too much info. “Born in ’72. I work in this building, DC.”
Her turn. “Well, you already know I’m a forensic scientist. My name is Abigail Sciuto, and I work here too, a few floors below. I was born in ’76.” Taking a breath, she knew her next question would be stranger. “What’s…the last thing you remember?”
“Abigail. Forensic scientist.” He nodded, clarity of thought returning, the wheels churning. “Walls are too bright to be ATF, FBI or DEA. And you’re not regulation for any of those places. This isn’t a medical lab and you guys carry guns. Who are you?”
Before she answered, he considered her question. “Sleeping. Going to bed. I had a really late work session, skipped dinner and drinks with the guys, went home, showered, went to bed.” Hardly exciting. “You?”
“Well, I…never mind. That’s actually… I’ll get to that. And it’s Abby. Don’t know why I introduced myself as Abigail. I hate being called Abigail. Just Abby. And I’m not regulation any place. As for who we are…” She looked to Tony for confirmation that she should tell him. When he nodded, she turned back to their guest and continued. “We both work for NCIS, Naval Criminal Investigative Service, and you’re actually in the NCIS headquarters.”
Taking a moment, she hesitated, knowing the next part would be met by skepticism from both men. “How…open are you to things beyond our normal understanding?”
“Navy Yard?” he asked in surprise. “I worked with you guys just last year. Not…you guys. And not…here.” He swallowed hard. “Is this where I find out how fucked up my life is?”
Biting on her lip, Abby faltered, suddenly wishing she could turn back time. “Here’s what I know for sure. We work for, or under, a man named Leroy Jethro Gibbs. After serving in the Marines, after his wife Shannon and his daughter Kelly were murdered, Gibbs joined NCIS.” Abby was using the blunt and hard facts of Gibbs’ life to try and stir a memory. If there was something of Gibbs in this stranger, if it was amnesia and hair dye, Abby would be able to tell. Wouldn’t she? Would she be able to tell if the Gibbs she knew was no longer there? Or was in fact somewhere else?
“Gibbs currently runs a high level team inside of NCIS, of which Tony is a part. Though I’m not specifically on that team, I do work closely with them, with Gibbs. Gibbs and I are…close.” Abby had to turn away and catch her breath. The worst part was still coming up: explaining the unexplainable. Abby could hardly believe it herself. What would these men think?
Tony studied the man, watching him at first shake his head slightly, and then look curious and concerned, then puzzled and a little bit horrified. The guy got up, pacing as much as he could around the room, hand running through his hair. The gestures and body language were nothing like Gibbs. Tony knew it. He hoped Abbs did as well.
Jet took in everything she said, his dread growing every minute. Someone had his name but a completely different life.
“Shannon? Shannon from Stillwater?” he asked, latching on to the first thing she said that he recognized beyond his name…and Marine service. “Knew a Shannon. She wrote me when I was in…” Until he’d gone to Officer Candidate School and his life had taken a different turn. There had been an attraction to the girl who worked next door to the general store, but she had been two years older, very well off, and he’d been out of her league.
“My wife was named Lauren. No kids, stepdaughter named Jessica. Divorced eight years. Just saw them last week. Never been a federal agent, only work with them sometimes…”
He trailed off, rocking back on his heels and then looking out the window at the river. “What the hell is going on? If I had a double with my name, I’d know. And if he worked at NCIS, I’d sure as hell know. I train Feds at least a few times a month. Don’t ya think someone would have said something?”
“Because you’ve never worked in the same place as the man we know. And it isn’t a case of two people having the same name. He is you, just a bit older and with a different past.” Abby held her hand up when he went to protest. Slowly, she stood, almost afraid of voicing her thoughts.
“I think what happened was my fault. You see, things have been turned end over end here. Agents reassigned, directors killed, a mole within NCIS, government secrets being sold. And the whole time, our boss, our Gibbs, has been putting the blame on himself. He has a tendency to do that. So, to prevent his agents from being reassigned again, he’s holding himself at a distance, separating from them emotionally because he believed that he was putting them in jeopardy.”
Abby looked over to Tony, knowing he still didn’t know about what had happened when she’d gone over to Gibbs’ place. “I don’t think Gibbs was always this way, though the sense of honor was always there. But when his wife and little girl were murdered, he blamed himself: if he hadn’t been at war…he should have protected them… And ever since, he’s tried to find happiness.”
War? What war could have happened in the recent past, Jet wondered, but he didn’t ask that question yet.
Pulling the flask from her pocket, she fingered the bullet embedded in the silver. “I took this from him last night. He didn’t know. God, I don’t even know why I took it. All I know was that it was breaking my heart to see him in so much pain. I just wanted to find him some happiness, like he had with her. I just wanted Gibbs to have some peace.” She looked up at Tony, her eyes beseeching him to understand.
“I came back to the lab last night, after leaving his place. I did some research on past lives, lost loves, rituals and chants, anything I could think of that would give me a chance to give him the possibility of finding happiness. I don’t remember much after that. I know I performed some bastardized version of an ancient Celtic ritual, adjusted for this situation. After that…all I know is I woke up in the middle of a pagan life circle, clasping this,” she explained, brandishing the flask. “And when Tony called me, telling me something was wrong with Gibbs, I knew. I just knew I had done something.”
A tear slipped from her eye as she tried to explain. “It wasn’t supposed to work. I never actually believed it would. I mean, I know everyone thinks I’m into witchcraft and all that, but I was only curious about it. I’m a scientist. I didn’t think it had any merit. But now you’re here and our Gibbs is gone and it’s my fault.”
“You did what?” Tony asked, recovering first. “Abby, you did what? Why? Why would you…” Then the implications hit him and he shook his head. “You can’t think that you did that and he…” Tony gestured to the guy. “You can’t think you created this, can you? Abbs, you’re a scientist and…”
Tony trailed off, giving Abby a wide-eyed look.
Jet leaned over the table, angry now. “You did some ritual, some crap you had no right or business doing and yanked me here somehow? That what you’re saying?” He didn’t and wouldn’t believe this. “You passed the NCIS psych exams and work here?” he asked, still shocked.
He didn’t want to believe it had happened, it didn’t make sense. Then again, nothing about this situation made sense to him. “You said you had pictures,” he said finally, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to figure out answers that he didn’t have.
“I have a family…a job. Gibbs Consulting. We’re based out of Reston. Call the number, ask for L.J. You, not him. For some reason, I trust you more than the guy with the gun.” He recited the number, stuffing his shaking hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Kelli is my admin assistant. She’ll know my schedule.”
Dialing the number, Abby put it on speakerphone when the dial tones changed and a voice said, “I’m sorry. That number has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check your number and try again.”
Focusing on Tony instead of the furious stranger, she said, “Tony, I don’t know what to believe. Do you have any better suggestions? He’s not Gibbs; his mannerisms, behavior, even the way he talks is different. But he is Gibbs, fundamentally. And I don’t think Gibbs has any brothers…”
She looked at the Gibbs who wasn’t Gibbs who stood there vibrating with anger. Abby knew the mistake she’d made, knew how badly she screwed up. The guilt was already starting to eat a hole in her. But she still had to explain herself. “I was desperate. He was in so much pain. I just wanted him free of that. I didn’t know. I didn’t want someone to be ripped from his family. I was just trying to help someone I love more than anything. He’s my friend. But I’m so sorry.”
Fumbling with her phone, she couldn’t seem to bring the pictures of Gibbs up. “I… I have pictures on my computer…in my lab.”
“That is my office,” he insisted, punching the numbers in himself. “Here, try my cell.” He dialed that number, only to get a fax line. “My dad then.” He wrote down the number, his hands shaking, then stepped away. “He spends half the time with me, half in our hometown. Or my ex. Lauren Overton” He wrote down that number as well. “I don’t care about some stranger’s fucking pain. This is my life here. Me. Jet. Mine!” He stalked to the window, looking out it, trying to breathe. “Call my dad. He’ll know me.” He has to know me.
All Tony could do was shrug helplessly. Everything was spinning so far out of control. But Bossman had always told him to trust his instincts and his instincts said there was no way this was the Gibbs they knew.
“Are we talking like Freaky Friday or Big here, Abbs? Or something… more?”
“I think something more…God, Tony. What have I done?” Standing, she walked over to the younger Gibbs. She dialed Jackson’s number, handing L.J. her cell phone.
“He has to know me,” Jet whispered. He and his father were really close, really tight, especially after Jet had settled down in the DC area. They were all each other had in terms of immediate family.
When he heard his father’s voice, he wanted to shout with relief. “Dad? Hey, it’s Jet… L.J. God, you have no idea how much I needed to hear your voice!”
“L.J.? When did you start calling yourself that, Leroy?” The gravelly old voice crackled through the earpiece on the phone, loud enough for the rest of the people in the room to hear. “What’s going on? Is everything all right? It’s been awhile since you’ve called. Christmas, I think. Or maybe Easter. You still planning on coming up for my eightieth birthday? Don’t know how many more I’ve got. I’d like to see my boy at one of them.”
It was his father"but it wasn’t. There was something different about his voice and his father was barely seventy. “Birthday…” His voice shook and he closed his eyes. “Yeah… I… miss you,” he managed. “I miss you, Dad.” He stepped back from the phone, shaking his head rapidly, blinking back emotion.
Tony jerked his head to the man"he couldn’t think of him as Gibbs"and took the phone. “Hey, Jackson. He’s fine. Just been a rough week, but you don’t have to worry. Hey, am I invited to the party?”
“Of course you are, DiNozzo. The whole team is actually. What’s wrong with Jethro? His voice sounds different, like he’s got an accent or something. He travel somewhere?”
“We’ll be there with bells on, Jack. And he’s okay. Just a rare cold or something. Nothing to worry about. We’ll talk soon, Jack!” Tony disconnected quickly and motioned to the guy. “Abbs…fix him.”
“I don’t know how, Tony. I don’t even know what I did. I don’t even know where to start!” Panic was starting to set in as the enormity of what she’d done started hitting Abby. She’d screwed everything up. Destroyed countless lives. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, she thought. How many times had her science teacher in high school told her that?!
“You have to. He trusts you most of us all,” Tony told her. He hugged her close. “Gibbs would tell you that you started it, you can’t run away. You have to fix it.” Gibbs! It hit Tony suddenly that they might not see Bossman again. Ever. “He needs you, Abbs.”
“I guess I can go back through, do a search through my computer, see where I went last night online. Everything’s a blur, Tony. What if I can’t? What if I can’t bring Gibbs back and send this one back to where he needs to be?”
“You will,” Tony insisted. “We’ll all help. McGoogle, Ziva, me. Even Ducky. But we can’t let it go any deeper. Not Vance, that’d be a nightmare. You’re gonna have to destroy the footage of us standing off as it is, unless we can spin it somehow.”
“Oh, God. You’re right. I need to get started.” Turning, she walked towards the new Gibbs, worried about his reaction to her. “I’m going to my lab. I’m going to figure this out. I’m going to get you home. One way or another, I’m going to get you home. If you want, you can come with me. Maybe your insight will help figure out exactly where you came from. And there’s always the pictures…”
“I’ll go talk to the others, fill them in, Abbs.” Tony looked at the guy, nodding slightly. “We’ll meet you in the lab. Figure out how to spin this as a team.” He gave the other man an encouraging smile. “We’re the best at what we do; we’ll find a way out of this.”
“Thanks.” Jet mumbled, but he didn’t really believe.
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