He's been off the grid for one day.
Gibbs spends all afternoon in MTAC.
It's been two days and anxious energy fills the bullpen.
Ziva paces like an animal in a zoo.
McGee throws himself into backing up case files.
On day three, McGee receives a text from a burner cell.
Send Ziva. I'll send coordinates.
-.-.-.-
He's slipping in and out of conciseness when he hears someone picking the lock to his door.
His hand slides under his pillow and he wonders if he'll have the strength to hold the gun.
Shh Tony, I'm here.
Her bag drops to the floor and the mattress dips from her weight.
She speaks in a combination of English and Hebrew.
It's ok. I'm here Motek.
Her voice is soft and caring, which confuses him.
Ziva doesn't whisper. She yells.
-.-.-.-
He tries to focus on her.
On the heat radiating from her hands as she pulls back the blood soaked bandage on his shoulder.
He bites his tongue, refusing to let out a sound as she lightly touches the wound.
Where's the bullet?
He nods to the dresser.
She glances over, a pair of forceps and a red bullet sit next to one another.
Her stomach clenches and she knows she won't eat tonight.
His eyes start to droop and he fights the urge to sleep.
Go to sleep Tony. I'm right here.
-.-.-.-
He wakes to a weight on his chest.
When he glances down all he can see is dark brown hair.
Ziva
She stirs, lifting her head.
Her smile makes his chest tighten.
She brushes the hair from his forehead, placing her palm against it.
Your fever's gone.
-.-.-.-
She cleans his wound, and silence fills the room as she rips the medical tape with her teeth.
He studies her as she passes him pills and a bottle of water.
His eyes are drooping again.
He can hear her on the phone as he gives in to sleep.
We still need a few days. Yes, I will keep you updated.
While he sleeps she goes for food.
He's sitting up in bed when she returns.
She can't help but notice how pale he still is.
How do you feel?
They eat in silence, one of her legs draped over his.
-.-.-.-
She helps him to the bathroom.
She starts to follow and he shoots her a look.
I've got it.
She stares at the door till he returns.
A sigh escapes his lips as she once again dresses his wound.
When she's done he's staring at her as if she's the only person on the planet.
Maybe to him, she is.
-.-.-.-
You need to sleep.
I'm done sleeping.
They stare at one another, both refusing to give in.
She huffs, and lays down against the wall.
His head sinks into his pillow.
They slowly move closer to one another, their limbs becoming intertwined.
She cups his face with her hand, her thumb brushing across his cheek.
They both know things could have been worse.
I was afraid we lost you.
He knows 'we' means 'I'.
-.-.-.-
He wakes up to find her buried into his side, her arm draped across his chest.
His mind flashes back to their first undercover operation. Then to Paris.
To them sharing a room and bed for the night.
She lets out a loud snore and he rolls his eyes.
Some things never change.
-.-.-.-
She wakes up to him staring at her.
What?
Thank you for coming.
She smiles. Presses her lips to his.
I've got your back.
-.-.-.-
They leave that afternoon.
She drives under the speed limit and he smiles to himself.
Her arm drops from his waist as the C1-30 comes into view.
He wants to tell her he doesn't care if they see her helping him into the plane.
-.-.-.-
Time to go home.