A/N: Summary pretty much explains everything. Tony/Abby close friendship or romance, depending on how you interpret it.

Spoilers for: A variety of episodes, mainly season premieres and finales. The episodes should be pretty recognizable.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.

The Promise

Rain pours down outside as they hold each other in the darkened lab.

It has rained every day since she left them, as if the skies are crying for the fallen agent and friend, just as the young woman illuminated in the sudden lightning has been doing constantly since then, and is now. The man whose arms are wrapped around her shoulders keeps a stoic face, but inside his emotions are crashing into each other, spinning out of control.

She steps back and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Look at me," she laughs shakily, glancing at her own reflection in her computer monitor. "It's awful. Mascara everywhere, hair not in pigtails…" She reaches up automatically to correct this second error—as she has every night since the first, it seems—but his hand catches her wrist and his eyes bore into hers. "Please," she whispers.

He releases her arm and runs his own fingers through her black locks. She closes her eyes at his touch and struggles to control her pinballing emotions as he gently separates the strands and begins to form a pigtail, carefully accepting the hair tie she hands him. A moment later, the task is complete.

As his touch lifts, she spins to face him, tears once more threatening to spill from red-rimmed eyes.

"Promise you won't leave me. Ever."

He smiles and strokes her cheek with a finger, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on her cheek.

"I promise."

--

The sky is heavy with the promise of a thunderstorm only the heat of summer can bring. Passerby all but race along the sidewalks, casting anxious glances upward at the billowing gray clouds spreading over all of D.C. and willing the inevitable downpour to wait.

Inside the lab, there is a different storm brewing.

"Why-did-he-leave?" She punctuates each word with a sharp jab to her keyboard. The face of her once-hero flashes on and off the computer screens in time to her commands. Her eyes shoot venom at the man standing just a few feet behind her, but he knows the anger is not directed at him, and shrugs helplessly.

She studies him suspiciously and something inside breaks. Her finger accuses him even as her lips quiver.

"You—you—"

He cuts her off smoothly. "I'm not going anywhere."

And she believes him.

--

She waits with a blank face as they tell her the words she does not want to hear. In truth, she only listens halfway, because, surely, this is all some horrific joke.

…car exploded…badge and cell with the body…right height…

When they finish and watch her expectantly, seemingly ready for her reaction, she shrugs.

"Okay."

They exchange a frightened glance.

"Maybe you didn't-"

She cuts them off dismissively.

"I heard you. But you're wrong. That wasn't him. It can't be." And suddenly what they have told her catches up with her numb brain, and she feels like exploding. "It can't be," she repeats, her voice catching and her eyes burning with tears she will not allow. Her next words are a whisper to herself, a prayer. "He wouldn't leave. He promised."

And later, when she sees him, alive and well and very un-exploded, he hugs her and murmurs their secret in her ear.

"You're stuck with me for good."

--

He is gone.

He has reneged on his promise and left her, left it all behind.

It isn't his fault. She knows that. And true to his word, he sends her countless numbers of postcards, makes it very clear she is terribly missed.

But he is too far away to hug and hold onto. She wants to drag him off that ship and tie him down, make sure he cannot leave again.

She wants him back.

And as she watches the team reform and her other friends return, the hole only grows bigger, until she almost feels like she could fall through it, like Alice through the rabbit hole. NCIS isn't Wonderland without him.

But when she finally does fall, it's into his waiting arms. And the world has righted itself.

And she forgives him.

--

They stand on the tarmac, surrounded by others specially recruited for this dangerous operation.

Her heart is lead; she can't smile, can't even bring herself to wish them luck.

"You shouldn't do this," she says, too quietly for the others to hear. "It's a suicide mission."

He doesn't reply, but she can sense his silent agreement. She pinches his arm, forces him to look at her.

"And you know!" she exclaims, a sudden fervor igniting inside her as his eyes lock onto hers. "You know, and you don't care! You leave me here, where I can't do anything, and you expect me to wait for you to come back. What if...?" She leaves her sentence hanging, but the implication is clear. She is worried for all of them, but especially for him, because he will be the one with the burden. The pain.

Why did he have to choose now to play the hero? Now, when she is completely helpless?

Isn't it enough that one member of their family already died at the hands of these monsters?

"I'm coming back," he tells her, giving her a quick hug. "I-"

"Don't," she says sharply, pushing him away. "Go. Just go. You can make promises when you come back."

Tears glisten on her cheeks as the plane takes off; and she wonders if she'll ever see him again.

And when he returns just four days later, bruised and hurting, she won't speak to him at first. It is not until she recognizes the true emotional agony in his eyes that she hates herself and welcomes him back with tears of relief and love and sorrow for not allowing him his proper farewell before.

"Hey," he mutters fondly. "I'm back."

She swallows and takes his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Just like you promised."