The Gibblet Chronicles
McRaider
Summary: Abby and Tony were two kids in desperate need of a warm and safe home, Jethro and Shannon were told they'd never have more children. This is the story of Abigail and Anthony Gibbs.
Author's Note: Some parts will be different than in the show, making this obviously AU, while other parts will be similar.
Age Notes: For the sake of the story Tony was born in 1977, Abby was born in 1980.

Chapter One - 1983

The rain in DC was coming down in sheets, multiple flood warnings had been issued over the last three days since the rain had started, the Potomac dangerously high. Despite that people were still on the roads, driving around like maniacs in the bad weather. The windshield wipers thumped as the red and blue lights bounced off the wet shine of the night, three bodies littered the grounds, all dead all in gruesome and unnatural positions. A single child, a toddler unharmed, sat in the back of the dry ambulance, tears covering her cheeks. Her dark black hair up in two pigtails, a gray scratchy blanket wrapped around her thin body. In her arms she held a purple stuffed hippo.

Off to the side, under a black umbrella stood a medic, a police officer and a woman in dark wet jeans and a heavy rain coat. "Her name is Abigail Scuito, age two years and two months. Those were her parents car. Both…dead," the officer explained.

"Is she injured?" The social worker questioned.

The medic shook his head, "No, she's can be released into your custody and the states whenever you're ready to take her."

The social worker nodded and made a couple notes on the pad she had. She slid it into her pocket, "All right, I'll take her to a local foster home, Officer Marks, could you contact me in the morning with the names of any potential living relatives?"

"Of course," he replied taking the card she held out to him. "Let me know if there's anything we can do for the poor kid."

"Thank you. Do you mind if I use the ambulance to speak with her first, before her I take her to my car?"

"All yours, unfortunately we don't need it," the man murmured before he walked away.

She stepped over to the ambulance, still clutching the black umbrella, and studied the poor lonely little toddler, "Hi Abby," she offered as quietly as she could over the sound of the rain, "My name is Lela Austin, I'm a social worker. Do you know what that means?"

"Mommy and daddy?" the toddler murmured.

Climbing into the back of the ambulance and closing her umbrella, leaving it at the back, she took a seat on the bench to the side, while the girl continued to sit on the gurney. Her small legs hung over the side, dangling down over the edge. "Mommy and daddy are dead, Abby, I'm so sorry."

"Heaven?" She meekly questioned.

Reaching out Lela gripped her small hand, "I'm sorry sweetie."

"What now?" She glanced over at Lela, her green eyes rimmed red from the crying.

"Well, I have to take you to a foster home, unless you have any other family that you know of?"

"I know my number."

Smiling Lela nodded, "That's excellent sweetheart, but unfortunately that's not going to help. I'm are going to take you to the foster home while we try and find a place for you to stay permanently."

"Kay," the girl replied, nodding.

Climbing out of the ambulance, she held her hands up to the little girl, who climbed into her arms. She then grabbed her umbrella and looked at Abby "I know you're scared, but we'll take care of you," she whispered, as she ran a hand over the girl's head and hair. Before walking over to her car and putting her in the back, in a car seat she always had on hand. Strapping the girl in, she climbed into the driver's side of the car.

She drove towards the group home, which sat on the outskirts of Arlington. She pulled up to the home, it was a last minute foster home, there had been some discussion about removing the couple from the approved list, but nothing had ever been put in place officially. She wasn't sure of the reasoning, and since it hadn't been made official yet she certainly didn't mean they were off limits. They were currently in charge of another foster child, a tall man with dark black hair stood in a gray hoodie and a dark pair of pajama bottoms. Lela parked the car and shut it off, grateful that the rain had let up some to a slow drizzle. She got out of the driver's seat and headed back to Abby, unbuckling the girl and pulling her out of the car. Resting the girl who was still clutching the hippo against her hip she headed up the front steps to the gentleman waiting.

"This the girl?" He asked, his voice gruff and tired.

"This is Abigail Scuito. Abby, this is Mr. Connor," she introduced, She looked down at Abby who had since put one thumb in her mouth and was sucking on it.

"She hurt?"

"No, I'll be by in a few days to take her to the funeral," the woman offered as she put the toddler on her feet, "And I'll bring by some of her personal belongings."

The man nodded, "Come on kid," he took the little girl's hand, and led her inside the house. The house was small, the carpet dingy, the house smelled of wet dog and spoilt food. The man walked her down a hallway to the left, pushing a door open to a bedroom, two beds lay on opposite side of the room. A small boy, wearing a ratty t-shirt and a pair of boxers, he was barely covered by a blanket. "You'll be in that bed, breakfast is at 9am sharp, we'll give you a list of chores tomorrow. Any kid who lives here pulls their own weight."

She didn't understand what he meant, but as he left the room, closing the door behind, she felt unbelievably alone. She plopped down on her butt in the middle of the room, gripped her hippo tight in her hand and started crying.

The boy, a dark chocolate haired boy, with hazel eyes, sat up in bed seeing the young girl crying on the floor. She was a few years younger than him, he climbed out of his bed and sat down behind her, "Shhh," he whispered, "They don't like being woken up," he murmured as he began rubbing her back. "I'm Tony," he offered quietly as he pulled her against him.

She buried her face in his neck and sobbed, as he rocked her back and forth. "Abby," she managed between a hiccuping sob.

"It's okay to cry, Abby, just…don't let them see you." He wasn't sure how long they'd sat there, at some point he'd started crying with her, unsure of the reason, but knowing either way they were both here and both miserable for some reason. When finally he grew cold, he eased her to her feet and helped her climb into the other bed. He whispered reassurances to her until she fell asleep. Once she was sleep, he climbed back into his own bed and closed his eyes. He didn't sleep though, he thought about what brought him here, and wondered if that's what had happened to her or if it had been something else all together different.

o0o

When 0830 came, Anthony was already awake and dressed for the day, he'd scrubbed his teeth like he was supposed to, and made sure his hair looked decent. He pulled on a pair of old faded jeans, which had a hole in one knee. He then pulled on a t-shirt, once he'd finished doing these things he glanced over at the new arrival. The sun was streaming through a small window near the top of their room, it was a small window, probably classified more as basement window really, as it could neither be opened, nor seen out of due to its height from the floor. The sun fell across the girl's face, she was pale white, with jet black hair, that had been fashioned into pigtails, although now both tails looked more like a rats nest. The clothes the small toddler wore were covered in grime, and a dark crimson brown, which he wasn't quite sure he could place. All the same, the girl shouldn't have slept in this outfit, but he wasn't sure he had clothes that would fit her much smaller and petite frame.

He moved over to his dresser and was about to start looking when there was a knock on the door, he stood stock still, while the door opened, Mr. Connor stepped into the room, Tony turned and stood at attention, "Sir?" He asked clearly.

"S'okay kid, ya ain't in trouble, here are some of her clothes," he handed the boy a trash bag. Make sure she's up and ready to go by 0900 as usual."

"Yes sir," Tony replied, accepted the trash bag that felt a bit heavier than he did. "Sir?"

The man turned to study the boy, the man in question, was in his mid forties, yet still retained a military hair cut and physique. Anthony didn't consider him cruel or evil, but the man was strict and fierce when he wanted to be. At times it seemed impossible to please the man. "Yes?"

"Did…did they say what brought her here?"

The man sighed and moved further into the room, he sat down on Tony's perfectly made bed, which he took note of, "Well done on the bed, son," he offered. He patted the bed, "Come here."

Tony dropped the bag and scrambled over to the man, sitting on his bed, it was moments like these when Tony adored Mr. Connor, glimpses at the kind man he had once been, a loving man who had nearly lost everything all because of something called…Nam, Tony didn't know what Nam was, but Mr. Connor cursed it every day. "Her parents were killed last night in a car crash."

Tony felt his heart ache for the toddler, to lose her mommy and daddy early was harsh. He'd been different, his mother had died of alcoholism three years ago, and his father had just stopped living, he hated the world for his wife's death and had ultimately become what she had, an alcoholic, but he'd been a mean one, angry and vicious. "It'll be okay, son," Mr. Connor offered. "Now, get her ready and downstairs."

"Yessir," Tony replied as Mr. Connor stood and headed back out of the room.

Anthony wasn't stupid enough to believe others when they eluded that Mr. Connor was abusive, and that his current wife was abusive. Yes, they hit him, and occasionally beat the tar out of him. There were days he'd wake up and could barely move, but he'd always deserved it. Whether he hadn't finished his chores for the day, or hadn't met their high standards. Whatever the reason they always made certain he understood the reasoning behind his punishment. Although, he didn't like Mrs. Connor nearly as much as he liked Mr. Connor. Mrs. Connor, Rebecca was her first name, was from high society, much like his real parents had been. She had expectations of things being perfect in her home. She yelled frequently, and when she wasn't yelling she was bemoaning Mr. Connor. Unlike Mr. Connor who typically only hit Tony when he'd done something very wrong, or when he was having one of his nightmares, Mrs. Connor hit Tony almost all the time, she was fairly unconcerned with her reasoning. She was the abusive one.

Tony shook his head and glanced at his clock, it was already 0845, he had to get her ready, and quickly. He rifled through her clothes, he'd made sure she had time to see everything and get organized later, for now though he had to get her ready. He grabbed a pair of Oshkosh overalls and a long sleeve shirt since the house was drafty and laid them on the bed, he then moved over to his new sister and shook her. The greenest eyes he'd ever seen slid open and studied him for a long minute, he saw confusion in her eyes, not remembering what had taken place the night prior, but then it all clicked into place and her eyes began to tear up.

"It's okay," he replied, trying to reassure her, "Do you remember my name?"

"Tony," she whispered, fighting back the tears by biting her lower lip. He reached out, making sure she saw his hands, and brushed her hair back away from her face.

"That's me, want me to redo your pig tails?"

Her eyes light up as she nodded, she sat up as he grabbed a nearby comb and gently he took her original pig tails down and put new ones in their place. "You have to get dressed, breakfast is at 0900, that's military time for 9am, can you read time yet?" The toddler shook her head, assuming because she didn't fully understand that the answer was no. "Okay, I'll try and teach you today or tonight while we do chores. Mr. and Mrs. Connor are going to assign you work to do around the house, it's important that you finish the tasks they give you, if you don't they will punish you. Be polite, say yes ma'am, no ma'am, yes sir, no sir when you're spoken to. Don't back talk."

Abby tried to take it all in as he helped her out of her clothes from last night and helped her change into her own, he noticed she wore underwear, so she was clearly potty trained or had been recently, that would be good. "If you ever have a question, or are scared come to me first, okay?"

Abby nodded, a little more scared than the night before as he hooked her overalls. It was 0857, and he was concerned she hadn't brushed her teeth or anything. He sighed, "This will have to do, we don't have time to do everything else, I'll take you to the kitchen."

They made their way out of the bedroom and back down the hall from the earlier evening, in the light the house looked fairly put together, it still smelled of wet dog, cigarette smoke and what smelled like rotting food, but otherwise it was a nice open living room that's curtains were open and the sun streaming in. Two dogs lay on the ugly brownish red with hints of yellow shag carpet, basking in the sun, one a Jack Russell Terrier and the other a basset hound.

Wood panels covered the interior of the home, half way up the wall, the rest of the walls to the ceiling were an off yellow tinged at the edges by cigarette smoke. They moved into the kitchen, a table sat against the wall, with two chairs on one side and two chairs on the other. Mr. Connor, whom Abby had met the night before sat at the table, sipping something black out of a mug and reading the newspaper. He glanced over his shoulder to see the two children and he offered a smile to the little girl, "Hello Abby, we met last night, I'm Mr. Connor," he introduced himself.

"I member," she replied.

He nodded, "That's good, why don't you take a seat, Anthony grab you and your sister some milk."

"Yes sir," he replied.

A woman stood at the stove cooking something that smelled like eggs and bacon, she wasn't a tall woman, perhaps 5'5, with long skinny jeans on and a long sweater that dipped past her butt, a belt sat at her center. Her hair was blonde and up, super frizzy. She turned to greet their new guest, she was a server looking woman, an angular face, sharp long nose and dark brown eyes that almost looked black. "Abigail, it's nice to meet you, I'm Mrs. Connor. Every morning we have breakfast at 0900, once Tony starts school this August it'll be closer to 0800. You'll have chores to do every day. Mr. Connor goes to work, so you won't see him until the evening. Once Tony starts going to school it'll be you doing a majority of the chores, so Mr. Connor and I expect you work hard. There will be punishment if something isn't completed, just like there will be rewards for completing various tasks."

"Mrs. Connor and I are also avid believers in the children should be seen, not heard. Do you understand what that means?" Abby shook her head as Tony poured her some milk and himself some before returning the carton to the fridge. "It means we expect you to be polite and only speak when spoken to by an adult. You are expected to be in bed every night at 0800, and asleep by 0900. Any back talk means punishment, understand?"

Thinking that she did, Abby nodded. Tony sat down beside her, providing her a reassuring smile, before he and she were both served a small helping of eggs, two pieces of sausages. Abby picked up the fork that felt far too large for her small fingers, and ate some of the egg. It was dry and bland, but it was food. She could still recall the taste of her mother's cooking, always so full of flavor. Tears swam in front of her vision as she tried swallow the egg down.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Connor questioned, Abby could tell she'd already done something wrong as she put her fork down.

"I'm not hungry," she whispered.

The woman above her huffed and grabbed her food, "Fine, if you won't eat what's put before you, then you don't eat." The woman snapped, before removing the plate and putting it on the floor for one of the dogs.

o0o

Two months passed quickly, in those two months Abby had grown stick thin, only averaging one meal a day. Her chores were complicated, loading the dishwasher, sweeping, all items that her tiny hands didn't quite know how or want to do. Every time she dropped something, or broke something, she got smacked in the face.

Mr. Connor had had two episodes which Tony called 'nightmares', except he hadn't been sleeping. He'd been drinking and some noise would echo and startle everyone and suddenly the man was yelling or screaming. He would hit them, he'd broken Tony's arm last month when Tony had tried to protect her.

Now Mr. and Mrs. Connor were downstairs screaming at one another in what Tony called a drunken rage. Abby cuddled her hippo closer and pressed closer to Tony's side as they're yelling etched up a bit higher. "I hate it here," she whimpered.

"Me too," he murmured. He did, he'd always hated it here, the rules were constantly changing, they could never do anything right. Someone was always yelling at them or hitting them. Tony had been hoping the broken arm would be a final straw, but unfortunately everyone had believed his 'I fell down the stairs'.

He yearned for a real mother and father, people who set realistic goals and really rewarded them. He knew Abby did too, despite being only two she clearly understood what a normal set of parents did vs. the Connors. They weren't allowed to have meltdowns, they couldn't be scared or upset or frightened, no one would come to comfort them.

As Abby and Tony lay in bed, side by side, wishing for someone to come rescue them, across the city a man and woman lay side by side, praying that what the doctor's had told them wasn't true. The man, a Marine Gunny Sergeant, rolled onto his side to look at his crying wife, "We can adopt, we'll look into it tomorrow, okay?"

"You're sure, I know you wanted one of your own," she whispered. They'd married nearly fifteen months ago, but they'd been trying the entire time to have kids, both excited at the prospect. The doctor had assured them it was normal, but after she'd continued to have her doubts, he'd agreed to run some tests, and determined that there were some fertility issues. He encouraged them to keep trying, but that it may never happen for them.

"Honey, I just want you to be happy, if adopting means it, then that's more than enough for me."

"Okay, we'll start tomorrow."

TBC

Edited 1/18 - Sorry for the confusion between Connor and Carson. This should now be resolved.