Abby jerked awake at the sound of a door slamming, pushing aside the whispery remains of her dreams as she sat up. "Ducky?" she asked worriedly. "Is that you?"

She squinted as she tried to see in the dim light. It always took several minutes for her eyesight to adjust when she first woke up. The blinds were pulled tightly shut, hiding her from the outside world.

She saw a hint of movement in the shadows. Before she could even react, she felt a cool hand on her shoulder and heard a familiar chuckle. Biting back the urge to gasp, she swatted at the offending appendage. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"I doubt that's possible, Abigail," Ducky said. Abby couldn't quite see it in the dim light, but she could practically hear his smile.

Rolling her eyes, Abby swatted him again. "Yeah, well, how about we don't test it to find out?"

Ducky shook his head, but he let go of her. "Did you have a nice rest?"

Abby's small smile faded. "I heard screaming again," she said, her gaze drifting toward the window. "I think they got someone else while you were gone."

"Ah." Before she even knew what he was doing, Ducky sat down beside her on the bed. "Was there any sign that they knew we were here?"

"I don't think so," Abby replied, shaking her head. "The streets are too dangerous for the time being, with so many people hunting them. They would have to be crazy to stay outside long enough to notice this building's not as abandoned as it looks."

Ducky sighed. "Unfortunately, that description has always fit Jethro fairly well. I doubt that the current . . . situation would change that much."

Abby's face fell. "I miss him," she whispered. "It's hard to think of him as one of the bad guys."

Beside her, Ducky stiffened slightly. "I . . . wouldn't word it quite like that."

She shook her head, pointedly ignoring his words. "I never really believed in them, you know," she said quietly, pulling her legs in close to her body. "Aliens, sure. Maybe even Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. But actual vampires?"

Ducky let out a chuckle. It lacked the warmth she'd grown used to hearing from him. "That makes two of us, my dear."

"It's kind of funny, isn't it?"

"Once again," he said softly, "I'm afraid that I must protest your wording."

Abby stood up, keeping her back to him as she made her way over to the window. "Not funny 'ha ha'," she said, sounding tired. "I meant more in an ironic sense."

Ducky sat there in silence for a moment before letting out another bark of laughter. It didn't quite sound real, but she wasn't going to argue with it.

"You see what I mean?" she asked, glancing behind her. Although he was still in the shadows, her eyes had adjusted to the dim light enough for her to make out his expression.

"Yes, I do," Ducky said, pushing himself to his feet. "I suppose there is a twist of irony to it."

Abby gently touched the thick curtain covering the window as she looked away. "Has your contact heard anything about the others?" she asked curiously. "Has anyone found McGee yet?"

She resisted the urge to sigh as Ducky walked up behind her and put his arm around her neck. His skin felt cool against hers as she leaned into his loose embrace.

Ducky only hesitated for a second, but it was enough for her to notice. "I'm afraid not."

"Ducky," Abby said, frowning as she met his gaze. "If you know something, then tell me."

He sighed. "Apparently one of the children hiding in the building across the street saw young Timothy being taken by the others," he said wearily.

Abby closed her eyes. "Then we're probably not going to see him again, are we?" she asked. "Just like Jimmy, and Ziva, and Tony."

"Most likely not," Ducky replied softly.

She stood there silently for a moment. "It's not fair," she said, finally opening her eyes. "Why can't they just leave us alone?"

Ducky tightened his grip on her shoulder. "I expect it's simply not their way."

"You mean, it's not Gibbs' way."

He nodded in agreement.

Abby touched the curtain again. "Do you think he's the one who took the others?"

Ducky paused. "I believe it's a possibility."

She started to reply, but before she could say a word there was a loud crashing sound outside. Abby let out a startled shriek and, forgetting that she was holding on to the curtain, jerked back.

Sunlight streamed through as the curtain was pulled back, and Abby hissed as she pulled away from it. A few tendrils of smoke wafted up from her arm, and her usually pale skin was burned where the light had hit it.

Trying not to focus on the pain, Abby let go of the curtain. It fell back into place, as if it had never been moved. As soon as the light disappeared, Ducky grabbed her arm and began studying it closely.

"You must be more careful," he said firmly. His face was expressionless, but Abby could hear the slight tremor in his voice. "I'm still not certain how dangerous sunlight is for us."

Abby reached out and touched the curtain again. "I'm sorry, Ducky," she said. "I just . . . it's hard sometimes. Remembering."

He shook his head. "No, my dear, I should be the one apologizing."

"You're just trying to protect me," she said, forcefully shrugging out of his grip. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

The look he shot her spoke volumes.

She fell silent for a moment and allowed Ducky to grab her arm again for a closer inspection. She held in the building sigh until he finished, releasing her already-healing arm to drop down to her side.

"I really do miss the others," Abby whispered. She hooked her arm in Ducky's, staring sadly at the thick curtain that covered the window. "Do you think Gibbs will ever come join us? He should know that we're going to win in the end."

Ducky patted her arm, a hint of sharpness to his normally gentle smile. "Perhaps."

Hesitant, Abby leaned in toward him again. "Ducky?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow.

She smiled, her teeth flashing in the dim light. "I'm hungry."