She didn't know if it was the cool water that caused her to stir, or the low din of voices that she knew so well. But as she felt herself move slowly out of the fog of unconciousness, Ziva realized there was a fierce sting that came with cleansing an infected wound.
A faint hiss came from her lips and she instinctively turned her head away from the rag that was so gently tending to her.
"Sorry," he said softly and she opened her one good eye, trying to reassure herself that the voice did, in fact, belong to Tony.
She watched him as he rinsed the blood-tinged washcloth in a basin on the nightstand and watched as he moved, carefully back towards her face, washrag still in hand.
"This looks pretty infected," he said softly. "We can get you a medic tomorrow, but today I'm going to have to do."
She managed a small nod, observing him closely. She noted that he had shed his sling, though he still moved his injured arm very stiffly.
Ziva shifted her gaze beyond him and out the door of the small bedroom. She made out the familiar form of Gibbs standing in the doorway shaking hands with a very large gentleman. As she strained her ears, she picked up the man's voice and recognized it as the voice of her rescuer.
She made out bits of their conversation, her eye misting up as she heard Gibbs' words: "She's family, Andrew. I'll never be able to repay you for getting her out of there."
"My pleasure, Gibbs," the man had said simply before turning and heading out of the small room, flanked by five or six similarly clad and muscular figures.
Ziva blinked away the tears that had threatened to sneak out of her eye. She looked around the room again and found McGee's form hunched over a nearby table, laptop on the table and his fingers working furiously at the keys. She couldn't make out what he was working on, but she was comforted by the presence of all of them.
Even Tony, she was surprised to realize.
She slipped her hand slowly towards his knee to get his attention.
"Yeah?" he asked softly, lifting an eyebrow.
"Stop?" she was able to croak out. "Hurts."
She watched the disappointment slip over his features but it was quickly replaced with his look of understanding.
Tony nodded and replaced the rag in the basin and stood. "You should get some more rest. Tomorrow'll be a busy day."
She moved quickly as he stood, trying to reach for him again to get his attention, as she knew she didn't have enough voice to make him pause.
He watched as her fingers fell short of touching his pant leg and Tony made sure he made eye contact, letting her know she had his attention.
Ziva opened her mouth to speak, but it took a few seconds before she was able to make even the softest noise. She croaked out: "Later?"
She saw him nod and she watched as a small piece of rejection slipped from his face.
"Get some sleep."
Ziva nodded as much as she was able and shifted her weight ever so slightly to take the pressure off her bruised hip.
Just as the darkness of sleep tickled her senses, she felt Gibb's gaze settle on her and she knew that she could, finally, sleep peacefully.