Something happens in this chapter – she either wakes up or dies – you'll have to read it to find out.

The curtains were drawn and the room was dim, his puffy eyes only just managing to see Ziva's silhouette lying powerless on the bed which had been her home for the last year.

He sat up and stretched, his eyes never leaving the blurry shape visible in the dark. He got up and made his way through the empty room to feel his way to the light switch. He bumped his shin on the metal post of her hospital issue bed but other than that, the route was clearly etched in his mind and there were no other obstacles. Gibbs had sold her apartment and used the money to pay for a private room for her. Her personal belongings had been moved into storage and her weapons sent to Israel at her father's request.

The bulb flickered and burst into life; Ziva's face lighting up like a glowing orb floating in a sky of clear white. He returned to her side and took her hand up. He resumed his study of her placid face and bit his lip to stop himself from shedding more tears and getting her dry sheets damp again. She had always stopped herself from showing her true emotion and he aspired to be more like her. The world deserved a strong, independent Ziva David more than a weak, emotional Anthony DiNozzo.

He frowned. He had memorised her static expression and prayed every day that it would have altered since he last came but his prayers were never answered. Now, perhaps, they had been. Her jaw was almost unnoticeably clenched than it had been the night before and her nostrils had flared slightly. 'I see you, Ziva,' he assured her. He let out a shaky breath and stood up, his mouth open to call for a nurse.

His cry was stemmed, though, before it had even formed, as the unthinkable happened. Ziva's hand clutched at the sheets and her legs kicked out in agony. Her eyes shot open but instead of the happiness and surprise he had been imagining throughout the year, they were filled with fear and pain. Her mouth opened and she screamed; a chilling shriek which seared through his heart and pierced into his bones. The cry was unintelligible but as it continued, Tony could make out the name she was calling, begging.

'Ari! Ari!' she screeched hysterically.

'Ziva, its ok,' Tony soothed, his mind numb from astonishment and fright.

Her limbs were thrashing and her mouth was frothing. Tony began to shout out for help and nurses streamed into the room, immediately rushing to her side and trying to restrain her. Her fist lashed out and caught a doctor in the mouth, blood pouring onto her previously pristine sheets. Her legs were flying through the air, her sheets flung to the floor, dangerously close to the nurses' faces. A doctor pushed roughly past Tony and his experienced, trained eyes dilated in terror at Ziva's contortions. He placed a cold hand on her forehead but pulled it away sharply as her head shook violently.

'Sedate her,' the doctor yelled above the chaos.

A syringe appeared and was handed hastily to him, fear filling the nurses' faces. Tony flinched and screamed, feeling Ziva's pain, as the sharp needle sliced into Ziva's unblemished skin. Her flailing legs fall like dead weights to the bed, bouncing as they landed heavily. Her arms came crashing down, her right hand punching her face as it fell.

Once more, Ziva was still and lifeless while the room around her was flourishing with activity. The doctor was pressing a handkerchief to his streaming nose while mumbling commands. The nurses bustled around her like hens, clucking as they prodded machines and read pieces of paper covered in numbers and lines. Tony stood helpless in the corner, whimpering and staring uncomprehendingly at Ziva's limp face coated with a glistening layer of perspiration.

One by one, the nurses put down their sheets of paper and left, going off to tend to other patients who, presumably, would not attack them after a year of lying there peacefully immobile. The doctor remained with Ziva and Tony, still clutching his damaged nose.

Tony regained his senses, furious that Ziva's awakening had been so short lived. 'Was that really necessary?' he shouted.

The doctor turned. 'She was dangerous,' he explained slowly. 'She was having a seizure which turned violent.' He paused, noticing the murderous look on Tony's red face. 'We tried to restrain her,' he defended himself. He consulted another chart. 'We just have to wait and see if she wakes up again,' he replied to Tony's unasked question without daring to look up and meet Tony's ferocious glare.

Tony wilted, his energy drained by the ordeal. He sank to the floor and stuck his head between his knees, his body shaking as he sobbed. The doctor smiled sympathetically and left Tony alone with his newly unconscious love.

Gibbs did not begin to worry about Tony until he was an hour late to work. 'Call him,' he ordered McGee gruffly.

McGee obeyed instantly and waited patiently for Tony to pick up.

Tony's hysteria was interrupted by a tinny ringing accompanied by a vibrating in his pocket. He delved in and sifted through the half chewed gum and pointless small change to find his phone. He flipped it open, groaning despite his misery as he saw the Caller ID. 'McGee,' he whispered.

'Tony,' McGee greeted before the trembling in Tony's voice registered. 'What's wrong?' he asked urgently. 'What's happened?'

'McGee,' Tony started, unsure how to voice the events of the morning. 'Ziva woke up…' He was interrupted by a joyous shriek from the other end. 'McGee,' his voice regained its old force. 'McGee,' he repeated, determined to get the younger man's attention back. 'McGee, she isn't anymore.'

The whoops of happiness were instantly silenced. 'What?' he breathed.

'They sedated her,' he explained bluntly. 'She had a fit.' He gave a short, gruff laugh. 'She kicked the doctor in the face.'

'Sounds like Ziva,' McGee remarked, somewhat cheerfully. 'When will she wake up again?' he inquired nervously. If the answer was soon, he was unsure how to react. Should Tony be alone with her or should they all be there? Tony was the most affected by her vegetative state but they had all been her best friends. He waited with bated breath for Tony's reply. When none came, he tried again. 'Tony?' he prompted.

'McGee, I don't know. They don't even know if she will,' was the delayed response followed by a drone as Tony hung up. McGee stared at the phone in horror.

'Uh, Boss,' he ventured, wondering how to phrase what Tony had told him.