Beep... beep... beep... beep. All Tony can hear is the mixture of hospital sounds making his head spin. The drip, drip, dripping of IVs, nurses shuffling back and forth, rustling case notes and patients coughing and spluttering. Not to mention that the fluorescent lighting is an attack on his senses, he can't imagine how the patients cursed to spend twenty four hours a day here must feel.
Ziva has been with the doctors for well over half an hour, Tony would be lying if he said that he wasn't worried slightly. She took a nasty blow to the head when the suspect tried to get away - he didn't manage to but the chair he threw at Ziva did manage to make contact with its intended target, and when that didn't work he punched her as hard as he could. Fortunately for the team Ziva is well versed in disarming potential threats and managed to bring him to his knees before she fell to the floor.
She'd looked pretty beaten and bruised when Tony had rushed over to her and despite her protests he thought it best to take the precautionary measure of driving her to the ER. Gibbs had cleared the both of them to take the afternoon off and instructed that Tony make sure she was given the best care available in the district - Vance had also put a call through to the hospital to cash in a favour, so Ziva was whisked away as soon as they pulled up outside whilst Tony had been escorted to a fancy looking waiting room. Somehow though he felt that comfy reclining chairs and a wide screen tv couldn't make up for the fact you were sat in a hospital praying that the next words you heard weren't going to shatter your heart.
"Agent Dinozzo?" A tired sounding voice calls from the door of the waiting room. Tony's head shoots up and he rushes over to the doctor who's bright blue scrubs make him look comical - like a smurf. It pains Tony that this is one of the people supposed to be looking after Ziva. The mans glasses are too big for his face and seem to be slowly slipping down his nose, whilst the wrinkles and bright red rosy cheeks make him look older than he presumably is.
"Yes?" Tony replies, trying to sound calm and collected but knowing that the edge in his voice can easily be detected.
"Agent David is being released."
Relief washes over Tony as soon as he registers what has just been said. You learn to always expect the worst when you have a job like this, so anything that isn't death sounds like a tune to the ears. Clearly this time there was never a threat of death but Tony is aware that if Ziva had been declared unfit to go back to work she would have felt like she'd been given a death sentence.
Ziva has never looked so defeated as Tony walks in and catches sight of her slumped in a chair, her eyes are drooping and her hair is dishevelled beyond recognition - not that this stops Tony thinking she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen and having to take a minute to compose himself (as always) before he walks towards her. "Hi." he says, looking down at her. It comes out in a sickly sweet tone that he hadn't intended and he knows she'll resent him for it. Slowly she looks up at him and manages to crack a half hearted version of her usual beaming smile. It hits Tony that despite everything Ziva's first and foremost intention is to try and help reassure him. "I'm under strict instructions to take care of you." He says, forcing a small laugh to try and make it sound a little more light-hearted. Ziva rolls her eyes and weakly sighs.
"Okay." She whispers, sounding as defeated as she looks. Tony leans down and helps her wrap her arm around his neck before slowly pulling her up out of the chair. He nearly forgets to grab her rucksack and sling it over his shoulder before they shuffle down the corridor at an agonisingly slow pace. Neither of them say a word, Ziva is too tired and Tony's unsure of what to say. He's only ever known the Ziva that's fierce and independent, and as much as he wants to get to know the rest of her character this was not how he expected it to happen. When she rests her head against his shoulder the pace of his breathing momentarily increases but he knows it is because she's still in a daze.
They stop at the front desk and Ziva signs several forms as they are thrust at her, still leaning on Tony. She looks as though she would rather be anywhere but there. Not that Tony can blame her. He just hopes she doesn't react too badly to what he's about to let her know. Just as she's finished signing the last piece of paper Tony speaks. "By the way I think it's best if you come back to mine." Strategically he smiles at the nurse and manages to manoeuvre Ziva so that they are facing the exit, meaning her inevitable protest won't be overheard by too many onlookers.
"Tony just take drop me off at mine. You will have taken care of me plenty already by driving me there." Her words lack the usual spiteful punch they carry when she disagrees with him and everything about her body language is making him not want to leave her alone this afternoon.
"Gibbs' orders." He states matter of factly, even though it contradicts his previous 'I think' statement and usually Ziva would be the first to point this out. She doesn't seem to notice and instead begrudgingly hobbles along with him to his car.
The journey is short, just a few blocks and it means there is no pressure to attempt to engage in any kind of conversation. Instead Ziva rests with her head against the window and Tony stares at the road ahead. When they reach his apartment complex he parks as close to the entrance as possible and leans over to gently tap Ziva on the shoulder, she murmurs something - clearly still asleep and continues breathing lightly whilst leaning on the window. Tony smiles to himself and whispers her name "Ziva."
Still nothing.
He says it a bit louder. "Ziva." Deciding it is cruel to wake her if she is that tired he gets out and walks round to her side of the car. Carefully he prises open the door and manages to gently catch her head as it falls from the lack of support, he takes a deep breath and scoops her up out of the seat. She is actually not heavy at all and Tony wonders why he expected her to be heavy in the first place, he kicks the car door shut as quietly as he can and makes it upstairs to his apartment brushing off the odd looks he gets in the way.
Once he is inside he realises that he's not sure where to put her. He heads towards the sofa but just before he puts her down he realises she might be out for the night and it would probably be uncomfortable so as lightly as possible he lowers her onto the bed. It looks like he is going to be the one sleeping uncomfortably on the sofa tonight, without thinking he takes a blanket out of the closet and lays it over her. Then he switches off the light and heads to the sofa. It's only 4pm so he's not tired enough to sleep and even if he wanted to he couldn't in case Ziva woke needing anything. Before he forgets he sends a text to Gibbs and then settles down to watch a The Little Prince. It is a movie he has loved since he was a child and he hopes it will help him take his mind off things.
Less than an hour into the film he hears movement from the bedroom and pauses it to see if Ziva is alright. He knocks gently on the door and goes in, switching on the light. Ziva is sat with her legs hanging over the edge of the bed, clutching her shoulder in pain. Instinctively Tony briskly makes his way over to her and sits next to her. "I'm fine Tony." She says through gritted teeth, not bothering to look up.
"You're in pain Ziva." He replies. She hesitates before looking up at him and tilting her head to the side. Then she uses her hand to sweep her hair over onto her other shoulder.
"I can't see how bad it is." She says, softly. Now it's Tony's turn to hesitate. Carefully he slides her t-shirt so it's off her shoulder, she gets up so he can stand behind her and look at her injury. There's a large and painful looking bruise which starts at her shoulder and seems to extend down her back.
"How did that happen?" Tony asks.
"When I fell I hit my back on the table." She explains, shivering slightly. Tony traces the outline of the bruise with his fingertips. "Do you have a mirror?" She queries, he nods and she follows him to the en-suite.
Tony leans against the door frame as she turns to look at the bruise on her shoulder. She reaches for the hem of her shirt and Tony registers what's happening so turns to face away from her. "Tony..." She sighs. "I need some help here." He slowly spins round and stops for a second. "I can't lift my arm and pull it over my head, it hurts too much." She points out. He nods and steps tentatively towards her. Taking the bottom of her shirt and gradually helping to lift it over her head as she bites her lip at the pain in her shoulder. She drapes the shirt over a nearby chair once it's off and attempts to view her bruise in the mirror. Tony feels a pang of guilt... or sorrow? He can't decipher it but he also knows he can't bare seeing Ziva in any kind of pain. This evening she seems especially hurt and vulnerable.
Blacks, blues and purples seem to trace a path down her back, stopping just before the dimples sitting at the bottom of her spine. Tony can't help but be mesmerised by how beautiful she is, even stood here in his bathroom in the unflattering yellow tinge of the light. She gives up trying to see the bruise, instead making her way over to the sink, only just managing not to collapse before she has the cool edge of the basin under her palms for support. Taking a deep breath, she looks at herself in the mirror. It is clear from the way she squints and her lip trembles that she doesn't like what she sees; Tony finds it difficult to believe she doesn't know how perfect she is. Even when she feels broken.
"How about a drink?" Tony asks, hoping to help take her mind off things. The question lingers in the air. After a while she replies, although it's almost as though it takes everything in her just to form the words.
"I think I want to try and go back to sleep." She pushes off from the basin and wanders towards him, rubbing her eyes. Absent mindedly she falls onto the bed, somehow still managing to seem graceful, and pulls the blanket over her.
"Hold on." Tony points out, walking over to her. "You'll get cold without a shirt." Ziva shrugs and pulls the blanket further over her but Tony ignores her reaction and reaches for the bedside table drawer.. After a bit of fumbling he finds what he hopes will be a comfortable t-shirt to sleep in, then gestures for her to sit up. Sighing Ziva follows his instructions and swings her legs over the bed, letting the blanket fall at her side. He looks away as she undoes her bra and discards it by throwing it across the room, then she tugs at the shirt in his hand and he hands it to her still looking away. After a second Ziva coughs, when Tony looks back she is sat holding the shirt in front of her.
"I... uh... I still need some help." She mumbles. Tony obliges, easing the shirt over her skin whilst trying not to blush. "Thank you." She whispers before standing and shimmying off her trousers. Tony knows he is now definitely blushing as he does his best to avert his gaze. "It's nothing you haven't seen before." Ziva states matter of factly in a weary tone. She's right, when they went undercover - not long after they first met, he saw a lot more than her underwear but it is not something they've ever actually acknowledged. They were just doing their jobs. She gets back under the blanket and he turns to leave. "Tony." She stutters. "Will you keep me company?"
For a moment he's not sure whether he should walk off and finish the movie instead, but he doesn't. No. He changes into another of his comfy t-shirts and gets in next to her - tonight is going to be one of those nights he wishes he had a bigger bed. She rolls over to face his back and wraps her arms around his waist before slowly drifting off to sleep.