Words were just not an eloquent way to communicate- Abby knew that one very well. It was one of the many reasons she loved Gibbs, in that he understood ASL and had a great understanding for Deaf culture, much like herself. Abby was a CODA, born to two Deaf parents, so in her world at least, the best were said with a sign, a touch, a smile. So it did not bother her when the audiologist explained to her that she was indeed experiencing some hearing loss. It wasn't too bad, likely classed as "moderate" with a 54db loss. What did bother her is what came next. "You have Usher Syndrome. It's a genetic disorder that causes deaf-blindness. Yours is type three, and the onset is a little later than we expect, but you should've been diagnosed earlier. You might not notice it, but you probably have trouble seeing at night. That's called night blindness. Your vision will progressively get worse, and you'll probably be entirely Deaf within the next few years. There is no easy way to say this, but you need to start preparing now." "Wow." "I know this is hard- take as much time as you need, I'll be gathering up the referral forms for the services you'll be receiving- orientation and mobility, braille and independent living instruction, and someone to help you establish your preferred way of modifying your signs to a tactile form. You will get through this." "I know. I have strong parents to remind me of that" It was all a daze. She took a train and a bus home, and promptly went to her coffin for comfort upon arriving. How would she face everyone in the morning? Would she be able to continue her job? Being Deaf, they could accomidate for. But being Deaf and blind? Would she even be able to feed herself anymore? "Damn it!" she cursed. The stream of thoughts continued until she was finally asleep.

That morning when her bed-shaker woke her, she knew she honestly couldn't face work that day. She got on her computer and opened up a relay call- she'd figured out how easy these were to make from her parents. "special instructions: pls intro as Abby calling Gibbs... ring 1 2... 3... (m) (intro call pls hold) hello qq ga Hey, bossman. I don't think I'll be able to go to work today. I'm not well.ga (typing in background) what's up abbs qq you've never missed a day unless you were near death, and you've never called me through this before did something happen qq g I don't really feel like talking about it. I've got to call my family first and then I'll be able to face you and the director in a day. My masspec will miss me, I know Sorry.. bye. ga to sk i will be right over you clearly aren't well. sksk (Called party has hung up) "Well, that went well" she thought to herself. By well, terrible. She'd hoped he wouldn't ask many questions, and now she knew that he would doubtless be asking more than she could answer. She figured she might as well eat prior to being grilled, so she made a quick run to the store and found herself with a Caf-Pow! and several doughnuts.

By the time she was home, Gibbs car was already there, but he wasn't waiting outside. Classic Gibbs, just walked right in and disregarded all things like kindness. In all fairness, that's what made her silver-haired fox all more attractive, even if she refused to admit her fondness of him was anything more than one could expect in a father/daughter type relationship. Oh well. She found him standing in her kitchen, holding a coffee and looking beat down. "What is all this about, Abbs?" he asked, but didn't receive a reply. She wasn't looking at him, so he tapped her shoulder and turned her to face him. "What's going on?" "I.. I didn't want to talk about it, at least not yet- it's not bad yet." "What isn't?" "I've been hiding the fact that I couldn't hear for quite a while. We've got video-phones in the office and I can lipread pretty well, so it wasn't too hard.. I digress. My point is, I'm loosing my hearing and I can't hide that any longer. I went to an opthamologist and audiologist yesterday and had my hearing fully tested. That's why I couldn't come into work today" "Oh, Abbs. You know that we're here for you. Nothing will change, I promise. We can adapt a few things in your lab and if it comes to that, hire an interpreter for your use. Anything." "That's.. not all of it." "No?" "I have Usher Syndrome. I'm loosing my sight too. I'll likely be blind pretty soon, and my hearing loss will progressively lead to full deafness." "That. That.. I don't know what to say, Abby." "This is the part where you hug me and promise it'll be okay." He does just that, scooping her into his arms like a child and rocking her back and forth, until the tears come and later dry out. He strokes her back and pulls back her hair and simply tries to be there. She can't remember being this thankful for him being around. Later that night, liberal amounts of Chinese food eaten and tv-programs having been watched, he puts her to bed and plants a kiss on her forehead. She's out for the count before he's even stepped out her doorstep. Gibbs' own sleep is hardly what anyone could call restful- he tosses and turns and eventually resorts to going down and sanding his boat. It helps him focus on something other than the image of Abby carrying around a white cane. It's one of the hardest things to deal with, the thought of her being hurt. This one hit him, quite possibly more than Kate's death, or even his wife and daughters, nevermind the multiple divorces that followed. This was his Girl. His reason for owning an occasional smile. She understood him in a way he wasn't sure anyone else could. She expected nothing, yet gave so freely. Now it was all going to change. She could deal, he was sure of that, but could everyone else? Could he? The next morning didn't improve.

Gibbs rushed to work, shocked the world (or was it just his team) with being late, and was quickly questioned by Jen. "Is this a come whenever you feel deal for you? We had a crime scene you should've been at yesterday, and absolutely no notice of where you, or Abby for that matter, were" "Don't get your hopes up. Abby called me, and I rushed over to her.. she's just received some news she's going to be coming in and talking with you about in, oh, an hour. I called her this morning to tell her I'd drive her over here for the next few days, and I'm not going to disrespect her by telling you before she has the chance. So now I've got to do that, and no, you cannot stop me." "Okay, Jethro. But if this is just a stupid ploy to get out of rule 12..." "Stop daydreaming." With that, he's already halfway to the elevator. ...

"Get in the car." "Do I get a choice?" "No." "Gibbs! Must you be such a dom?" "What did you say?" "I.. didn't think you'd understand it. Nevermind" "I did understand, Abbs. Did you think I'm as lost about sexuality as I am with today's so called culture?" "No.. Well, yes, maybe." "I'm not. What you said, do you want me to be?" "I don't want to talk about this. Not now." "Fair enough."

The drive to the office is silent- he couldn't talk to her without turning to face her anyways, if he signed -or- spoke, so there wasn't much a choice. After parking, she got out looking like someone who'd just seen the dead awake. With Abby, one might think she would like that, but this was not one of those times. They walk together up to the directors office. He tries not to notice the fact that she nearly trips over the first step, having not seen it. He catches her just in time, but it's not before the entire team is gawking at them. Once they're upstairs, he brushes past her assistant and finds himself sitting in-front of a worried looking director, holding Abby's hand. When he notices that the directors face is down while she greets them, he quickly tells her to look up while she talks, signing to Abby "said hello." "So, what's going on, Jethro?" "Are you ready to talk, Abby?" he asks and she replies "Yes. Jen, I've just been diagnosed with Usher syndrome. I'm going deaf, and I'll probably be blind very soon as well, or at least severely vision impaired." "Wow.. I'm so sorry, Abby. I understand this is hard for you, but you're going to have to put in a list of accommodations we can make for you so you can continue your job." "Wow, I expected you to fire me instead of show such kindness. Thank you." Noticing she's still holding Gibbs' hand, and that he has a tighter grip than even her, she quickly pulls away. "I'm going to need three days "off" although I doubt I will be away from the workplace. I know enough from my parents to understand the basics of what will help me at this point. A lab aide, and preferably one that doesn't want to kill me. A deaf-blind interpreter, who will help me communicate with all of you effectively. Someone to consult on adaptive hardware in my lab, alerting systems for my equipment, and braille access for my computers." "We'll get right on that- I assure you, we don't discriminate against those with disability, and especially not you. You're a valuable part of the team, and you know it." "Yes. Thank you."

Three months later:

Most people would assume she'd been this way for 3 years at least. Her vision is down to 20/600 and her hearing loss is at 92db. Her doctor explained she's an excellent candidate for a cochlea implant, but that's something growing up in a deaf household has taught her wouldn't be for her. Regardless, she's adapting quite well. O&M training has resulted in her being able to get anywhere on earth- literally. She got plenty of new toys for the training- a guide dog, which she fondly named Tony. It both alerted her of dangerous sounds, traffic hazards, and guided her, but she kept a few white canes for the places she couldn't bring her dog along for the ride. The office had purchased her a Pacmate, along with face-to-face software (on her end, conversations played out as a braille display, and the other person entered text through a standard pocket PC) and a GPS. She could get anywhere through public transports and cabs. She now had an aide in her office, who helped out with the "visual" tasks. Much of her equipment now transmitted a signal to a vibrating beeper she carried with her at all times. Her computer was outfitted with a braille display, and while this slowed down her speed, she was learning braille fast enough that it wasn't significant enough to count, and that's what aides were for anyways. Adapting her signs had been easy- she just spoke or signed normally to others, and to "see" others signs, she placed her hands over theirs as they made the motions forming each word. It wasn't terribly fast, but it worked, and as such had resulted in the office hiring a deaf-blind interpreter for her two months back. Life was settling back, if very slowly. She wasn't as scared to face this new world.

Silence and darkness scared her, but not as much as losing herself did. That's what had helped her the most through this whole process of doctors and specialists and support groups- her real support group, Gibbs. While their attraction was still untold, he'd offered that she move in a month ago, and they were currently in the process of getting her things over to his house. he'd gone so far as throwing away anything he owned that she did- he was trying to make it clear she was there to stay, and she had no objections to that arrangement. He'd become her "interpreter" in social situations; they had become strangely social creatures outside of work, be it clubbing or going out to dinner or whatever.

This particular day was a Saturday, and she wanted some alone time, so she was going out to the park. About halfway through her walk, she felt something tap her shoulder, and since Tony hadn't alerted her to danger, she knew it had to be someone he'd recognized. Turning around to the tap, she felt familiar hands tug at her wrists gently guiding her over his asking "Allow me to walk with you?" She nodded, and spoke back "Thank you." he motioned back to her "Any time" and then formed his hand into a lose fist, using his thumb to stroke down her cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to her. He'd chosen a nice time to do it, too. She was in the middle of considering -just- how she could admit to him her feelings. She had to- she'd learnt these past months that life was far too fragile to miss such a chance.

"I love you. Not like a friend, not like family. I love the firmness of you and the power and I love every little flaw. I'm tried of hiding it." There she was, standing in his (was it their?) living room. She wasn't sure the words had actually come out, but she knew the signs she'd accompanied them with spoke for themselves. She waited for a reply. He tapped her hands and signed back "Shocked." She spoke "I understand. It was stupid of me to say anything. Here you are slaving over me and all I do is complicate things. Why would anyone care about some broken little Goth?" He rapidly signs "no, no, no. Not it. Not at all, ever. I just don't know what to say, or what to do. Are you even sure this isn't just a reaction to all the stress these prior months?" "Yes, I'm sure. You and I both know I've had these feelings when my life was relatively normal." "Yes.. I tried to ignore it. Told myself you're younger, it wouldn't be right." "I'm not that much younger, and you know I'm not immature. I know what I want. I want to be able to give up the crazy amount of control I need to keep my world in order. I want to be able to lose myself in you if only for a little. And I know full well you're capable of providing me that. If you want to is your call." "I want it. I'm sure of that, but you must understand- I play for keeps. If you want this, you can't back out. And if you thought what you had before you lost your vision and hearing was intense- imagine it now. You orientate yourself to the world almost entirely by touch. This is your one chance to back out and I wont hold it against you." "I know what it means. I want it so badly." "While we play, it's Sir. I might not be able to sign much to you, but I still need to hear your voice." "Okay." With that, he places his elbow out and guides her hand to it, taking her up to his room. She's only been in there a handful of times, and never in this context. He doesn't take long to get her into bed and locate his toy box. He decides playing it light this time would be the best. For this purpose, he grabs handcuffs and a whip, although he intends to spank more than actually use it. Carrying those along with a bottle of lube and a condom, he asks her the dreaded question. "Should I use a condom or not?" She nods. "For now." He doesn't let himself stop and think about what that means, just removing all her clothing and motioning for her to lay on her stomach. He secures the cuffs to her wrists, leaving them wrung around the headboard to stop her hands from getting in the way. He knows that before anything, he needs to calm her, allow her to give up herself to the moment. He knows that for her, that delight comes in the form of pain. He writes on her back "safeword?" she speaks the reply "avacado, sir" He writes back "use if need." She nods her head and says "I understand, sir" and then it's going. First the whip comes down slow and lazily, and once she relaxes and he can hear her moans and feel her pushing up into it, he speeds things up. When the count reaches 30, he puts the whip away and slides a finger between her legs, rubbing her clit lightly, enjoying every drop of it.. the way she thrashed in shock when he first touched her, the way she moaned in a beautiful and unrestrained fashion. He pulled his hand away and un-cuffed her, and allowed her to turn around. Grabbing her hands he signs "don't come until I let you," knowing this will be the last chance he'll have to talk to her in such a way in their exchange. He then lays down next to her, and guides her head over to his now hard dick. He touches her lips with a finger, and in showing she understands, she licks him lightly. Soon the motions become rushed, and he knows he doesn't have much longer, so he pulls her head up and lays her down underneath him. (time passes)

"Wow. That was.. wow, Gibbs." He signs back "You were." "What happens at the office?" "There's no reason to hide you, but I see no need for us to have a big old coming out party- not that everyone didn't think we were sleeping with each-other when you moved in" "Mhm." And with that, she's fast asleep. He stares at her and finds his hand wrapped around her waist, and the only thought in his mind is that he's the luckiest man on earth right about now.

"Abby, you're positively glowing today." This time it's Tim signing to her- he's picked up several new words since realizing how much a hassle the interpreter could be, it just wasn't personal. She laughs and replies "Well. I do have good reason to be!" and with a wiggle of the eyebrows, she's headed to the elevator down to her lab.