Chapter 4
Gibbs was drowsing off lazily as the sun came up, coating the room in soft morning light. Ziva's doctor, a young male who looked young enough to be straight out of med school, came into the room, checking her vitals off on the clipboard that hung at the end of the bed. Gibbs opened his eyes and watched the doctor fiddling with instruments. "How's she doing?"
"Oh!" He said, startled. "I didn't realize you were awake, Special Agent Gibbs. Um, she's doing well. Her blood levels are still low, but I'm taking her off the sedatives, so she'll wake up quite soon. There will be minor dizziness and disorientation, and she'll have to stay here for a couple more days to recover, but it won't take long." He chuckled. "Besides, who doesn't like a vacation now and then?"
"You think this is a vacation?" He said sternly. The young man looked up, a little bit intimidated, and started backtracking.
"I didn't mean it like that, sir. It's awful, what happened to her. I was just suggesting that a little rest might be good mentally as well as physically." He walked out of the room, muttering something about joking, and Gibbs returned to his chair, idly toying with his empty coffee cup. He threw it at the small trash bin in the corner, and it bounced in, bringing a small smile on his face.
The smile widened when he noticed Ziva stirring. "Ziver?" He whispered, walking over to the bed. "You awake?" He set his hand on her shoulder, rubbing it in small circles. "Open your eyes, Ziva."
She blinked, squinting at the bright light. "Gibbs?"
"I'm right here, Ziva. Look at me. You're okay. You're in the hospital." Her eyes were bright, but frightened.
"What happened?" She tried to sit up, but Gibbs gently held her down.
"I'll explain everything later. How are you feeling?"
She considered this for a minute, slowly taking inventory of her body. "I'm dizzy." She finally concluded. "Why is there a cut on my leg?"
"You don't remember?" She shook her head, and he stood over her, unsure of what to do. "What is the last thing you remember?"
"Lunch with McGee. Tuesday, I think. We got a call to meet you somewhere…near NCIS, I think. We got in the car…was there an accident? Is Tim okay?"
"Tim's fine." Gibbs assured her. "I'm going to go get a doctor, okay? Just relax." He walked out of the room, and was mobbed.
"Is she awake?" Abby was the first one to speak, blurting the words out before anyone else could take a breath. "Did she say anything?" McGee, Ducky, and Palmer crowded around Gibbs and Abby, and DiNozzo's conspicuous absence was filled by Dr. Cranston.
"She's awake. But, she doesn't remember anything about it. The last thing she remembers is eating lunch with Tim."
"But Gibbs…" He said, thinking. "That was almost three days ago. Right when we got the case."
"Short term memory loss isn't uncommon after traumatic events." Dr. Cranston said, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "But then again, lying about it isn't all that uncommon after attempted suicide either. Do you mind if I talk to her?" Her blasé attitude was out of place in the rest of their concerned expressions, and it made Gibbs think.
"She needs to see a doctor first, but we'll ask him not to tell her until we're there too."
"We?" Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows. "Whatever Ziva reveals to me is confidential."
"We'll ask her." Gibbs said confidently. "She can choose to include me in your sessions. It's not a mandatory psych eval."
"Fine. We'll ask Ziva." She consented, knowing she had lost the battle. "When can we do this?"
"I'll get the doctor now."
The doctor looked up from his checklist, smiling brilliantly at Ziva. It probably wasn't often he got to treat beautiful women close to his own age. "So you'll stay here until your blood cell counts are back to normal and we're sure there's not an infection. For now, we'll put you on some anti-nausea drugs and keep you in bed until the dizziness subsides. Sound good?"
"Thank you doctor." She smiled back, easily dazzling him. He walked out slowly, checking back over his shoulder, but was finally gone.
"Gibbs, Rachel…" Ziva said, slipping back into her normal self. "What happened? It was not a car accident, I know that for sure." The last sentence was directed at Gibbs, but he was unabashed.
"Ziva, Agent DiNozzo found you in your house last night bleeding." Rachel said softly. She hesitated, but Ziva's face was impassable. "It appears you had cut yourself, into your femoral artery." She inhaled deeply, sorrow and confusion darkening her already inky eyes.
"I tried to kill myself?"
Gibbs cleared his throat. He hadn't been expecting the upswell of emotion at her reaction; he hadn't really been expecting anything. "There were no signs of forced entry, Ziver. No signs of a struggle."
"What did I cut myself with?" She asked, tilting her head to look directly at Gibbs. "What did I use?"
"A scalpel." He admitted. "We found it underneath your couch; it could have dropped out of your hand when you passed out." She nodded lightly, like it was beginning to make some sense.
"I have one in my emergency medical kit." She breathed, closing her eyes as if picturing it in her head. "You are sure it was me? I just…do not remember it at all. Wouldn't I remember something like that?"
"Short term memory loss after trauma is pretty common. Were you depressed for long periods of time before this?" The blunt question surprised both Gibbs and Ziva.
"What kind of question is that?" Gibbs asked angrily. "You don't just ask her that."
"No, I was not." Ziva answered quickly. "It is okay, Gibbs."
"Then whatever caused you to attempt suicide was probably a large emotional trauma. It could be the reason that you don't remember so much of the week."
"What day is it?" She asked. "Isn't it Wednesday?"
"It's Friday morning, Ziver." Gibbs said gently. "Tony found you in your apartment last night, Thursday night. You were going to a movie together."
"Fast and Furious." She remembered. "We planned that Sunday. Do you know what…'emotional trauma' I might have sustained?"
"I have no idea." Rachel admitted. "Your team closed a case, but we don't know anything after that about what you did when you got home, or who you talked to."
"So what happens now?"
"Once you're well enough to leave the hospital, they'll transfer you to a secure ward." Rachel said gently. "They will treat you, and release you you're ready."
"I am not suicidal." Ziva tried to explain. She motioned to her leg. "This? I don't remember this. I don't know why I would have done that. I have never even considered suicide before. This is not me. You know that, Gibbs."
Before he could respond, Dr. Cranston stepped in. "Ziva, you may not be right now, but something happened to make you feel that way. We don't know what it is, but we know how you reacted. We don't know if you'll react the same way again."
"So keep me out of the field. Make me stay with someone. Don't put me in a locked ward like an animal." Ziva protested evenly. Even when presented with the facts, she was controlled and revealed little emotion.
Gibbs looked her in the eyes, and his stoic pity won her over. "It's to keep you safe, Ziver. Please, just do it."
"I want to read the case file. I need to know what happened, try to regain my memory."
"You can do that." He paused, reading her face. She was exhausted, he could tell, but also suspicious. She was searching for answers, digging into the depths of her brain to find the one connecting thread that would bring down the wall in her head and reveal the memories. "Ziva, do you think you're ready for some visitors?"
"I suppose so." She said coyly, still lost in thought. Gibbs opened the door, and Abby burst into the room, unleashing Ziva's first real smile since she woke up.
"Ziva!" She cried, hugging her awkwardly. "God, we were so worried. I'm so glad you're okay."
Ducky and McGee crowded in too, smiles plastered over their faces. "Hey Ziva." McGee said gently. "How are you doing?"
"Little bit dizzy, a little bit confused."
"Well that's understandable." Ducky answered. "You've been through a lot."
"Apparently." Ziva smiled. "Not that I remember any of it." She yawned widely and sighed.
"You should rest." Ducky said, idly looking at her charts. "Blood loss can make you quite sleepy. All of you, out." He shooed them from the room, patting her leg as he closed the door after they had filed out. "You'll be okay, Ziva. Just rest for now." He closed the curtains , sitting down in the chair. "Your friends will be here when you wake up."