The white coats enter her room
And I'm calling my baby.
-Tori Amos, "Girl."
A sharp breath from the doorway broke the boundary between wakefulness and sleep. It was early, but the PICU room had no windows, so as for how early, he couldn't tell. He turned in his seat and found Ziva was standing in the doorway, one hand over her mouth. Sara's condition was startling even to her. Ziva didn't move, but looked at him and motioned to the bed with the other hand.
"Gibbs," she whispered. "I am..."she let her voice fade. What was she? Shocked? Horrified? Elated she'd survived? She wanted to say that she couldn't believe it or she was so sorry but the all died in her throat. Tears welled-she couldn't help herself—and Gibbs was comforting her with two strides across the room. He spoke into her hair.
"If you weren't there, Ziver, she'd be dead. Keep that in mind, huh? The doc says she'll be all right. It's just going to take some time."
She sniffed, pulled back, and wiped her eyes. "Tony has no idea. He barely saw because he helped the cops with the drugs and the scene."Tony was as tough as he was tender; he'd be fine.
He grunted and pulled back to check her over at arms length. She was in frayed jeans, a t-shirt he recognized as DiNozzo's, and a grey hooded sweater. There were paint smears on her wrists and hands.
"Where you been, David?" His voice was soft and stern.
She stammered for a moment. "Just, you know, housekeeping." She smiled, but it faded when she returned her gaze to Sara, motionless in the bed. She stepped closer and lay her hands on the bedrail, swept her gaze over the bandages and tubes, and stopped at the titanium rods.
She said nothing for a long time. When she turned back to him there were tears in her eyes again.
"Do you think I can hold her hand?"
"Sure. Just try not to touch any of the needles."
She reached down and brushed the back of her knuckles over Sara's, then tucked two fingers against her palm. Sara grabbed hold.
"Do you see this?" Ziva's whisper was sharp.
"It's a reflex. A lot of kids do that. It's a throwback to infancy." He paused. "She's heavily sedated." Sara couldn't be awake; Colleen had just adjusted the meds. He sighed, nonetheless; Ziva had a tremendous soft spot for children, harkening back to her days as an older sister to Tali. She was gentle and maternal despite the fact that she'd been trained—quite literally—to kill. Gibbs puzzled for a moment over that, but focused again when Ziva stepped away from the bedside and then back to it.
"She won't let go." With the other hand, Ziva pried at Sara's fingers, still wrapped around her own. She managed to tug free and Sara's hand flexed and tightened into a fist. An alarm on the computer began to sound from its place on the other side of the bed.
"She's in pain, Gibbs." Ziva was alarmed, eyes wide, brows raised. "You said she was sedated!"
Nurse Colleen bustled in and delivered a dose of medication. The computers stopped it's beeping immediately and she opened a file on the computer to take a few notes. She seemed unphased by the alarm, but Ziva was shaken.
"What was that all about?" He demanded.
"She was just coming around a bit, so I adjusted the dosage to keep her under. It's ok. It happens a lot with kids because it's difficult to find the right amount of medication to keep them comfortably out. If she was hurting she won't remember it when she wakes up later." Colleen looked at Ziva who was still visibly upset, and her tone softened. "She's okay now. You can go back to holding her hand. Maybe talk to her a little."
Ziva shook her head. Gibbs sensed she felt guilty, as if Sara's brief but painful experience had been her fault. "Maybe I should go. Tony and Abby are probably wondering where I went. They only sent me out for coffee."
Gibbs eyebrows went up. "Sent you out, huh?"
Realization dawned; she'd blown her cover. "Um, we're just working Kettle's case. Tying up some loose ends before we interrogate." She pushed a hand through her hair.
"So working Kettle's case is how you got interior latex paint all over your hands?"
She blushed. "I told you. Housekeeping."
"So are you housekeeping or working the case?" He grinned.
"Both. At the same time." She met his eyes with the same determination he saw when she drew her gun. "I'm a trained assassin, Gibbs. I am a highly-skilled multi-tasker. And now I must multi-task my way to the coffee shop."
She stepped to the bed, lifted Sara's hand once more, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. A knot formed in Gibbs' chest; it had been a stressful day, to say the least, and the affectionate gesture nearly brought him to tears again. Turning, she hugged him hard and was gone.
When he walked back into Sara's room—he'd gone for yet another coffee—he was surprised to see Dr. Levine leaning over the computer on the opposite side of the room. He looked up from the nurses' notes when he entered and gave him a hopeful smile before moving to the bedside. Sara's condition was unchanged as far as Gibbs could tell, but Levine's demeanor indicated good news.
"I want to start weaning her off the sedative. Her vitals have been steady since she came out of recovery, so I think it's time."
Gibbs was relieved on one hand and alarmed on the other. "She had a reaction this morning that looked painful. She wouldn't let go of my colleague's hand." He felt numb and slow from exhaustion and had trouble accurately relaying what he and Ziva had experienced. Had she been in pain? Was it a reflexive reaction to stimuli? Had she been having a nightmare? He wiped at his eyes and Dr. Levine shrugged.
"I'm not saying it wasn't scary for you, but it was perfectly normal reaction given the circumstances. We'll make sure she won't be in that kind of pain when we wake her up if it was the case. I've discontinued the sedation, so she should start to come around in an hour or so. If her oxygen saturation levels stay up we can extubate then."
Gibbs sipped, swallowed, and nodded, still uneasy. While he hated to see Sara unconscious, it was easier to deal with his own emotions when she was asleep. Once she woke up, he'd have to deal with both of them. Would he be able to assure her that things were going to be okay? Would she understand she was safe? Could he soothe her if she got scared or upset? He took a deep breath, then another. He had signed on the dotted line.
Stirring from the bed interrupted his reverie. Sara was waking, her good hand trembling on the bed, a tiny fisherman grappling for purchase on icy consciousness. Her eyelids twitched and two tones started to sound from the computer. A nurse and a physician's assistant hustled in, paging Dr. Levine as they ran. Gibbs stepped back against the wall, hopeful and nervous, watching them disconnect the ventilator from the tube and switch off the alarms. Dr. Levine arrived, greeting Gibbs briefly and looking over the scene before him. Sara's agitation was increasing, so the doctor stepped to the bedside and began his ministrations.
"Sara?" he called. "Open your eyes for us." He was speaking loudly, as if calling to her over the rumble of a vacuum cleaner. Her eyelids fluttered once, twice.
"C'mon, Sara. It's time to wake up." The doctor gently jostled her uninjured shoulder and reached for the ventilator tube. "I'm going to count to three and then I want you to blow as hard as you can. We're going to take the tube out, ok?"
Sara hadn't opened her eyes yet, but he counted, pulled, and the nurse and PA moved in quickly with suction and an oxygen mask. There was blood on the end of the ET tube and gurgling sounds from the suction mechanism. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling, unable to look at Sara, gagging and coughing weakly into the oxygen mask, barely conscious. Dr. Levine checked the monitors.
"Her SATs are good. Let's give her ten minutes with O2 and see if she wakes up a little more. If she does we can give her some ice chips to help with the sore throat. Is your throat itchy, Sara? Does it hurt?"
Her eyes were closed, brow furrowed. She was still breathing hard. The nurse—Gibbs needed to ask her name—made a few adjustments at the computer terminal.
"I'm upping the pain medication a little. I think she's uncomfortable. Let's give that a moment to do its job and check in again."
Dr. Levine checked her SATs again, then turned and shook Gibbs' hand. "Looks better every minute, Agent Gibbs. We're going to keep an eye on her for the rest of today and tonight, and then in the morning, if she's still doing well, we'll move her down to Peds Ortho on the fifth floor. I'll be back for evening rounds and we'll do another assessment. Take care, ok?"
Gibbs returned the handshake. "Thanks, Doc. See you in a few hours."
Seconds later, he was alone with Sara. He stepped to the bedside and lay his hand on her brow, careful not to touch the stitches near her hairline—sixteen of them, he counted. She was struggling with the oxygen mask and tried twice to bat it off. Gibbs stilled her hand with his own and she startled.
He soothed her gently, speaking softly.
"Sar? Honey? It's ok. It's just Gibbs. Can you open your eyes for me?"
She stilled, then tightened her fingers around his. "C'mon Sara. You can do it. Open your eyes."
She did, blinking once, then twice, long lashes fluttering. Using a force of will he hadn't known she possessed, she opened them fully, but lost the battle to focus on anything. Her eyes rolled in their sockets and he called to her again.
"Over here, honey. Over here. He brushed his unoccupied hand over her left cheek and she closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. She was looking at him, and elation crept into his heart. He grinned. "Hi, Sara. I'm glad you're awake. I know you feel bad, but it'll get better."
She blinked again and let her gaze roam the room. He knew from experience that waking up from sedation was difficult; faces were blurry, lights too bright, voices too loud. He tried to soothe her.
"You're in the hospital, Sara. There are really good doctors and nurses taking care of you. They're very nice, and you're safe with them. And I'm here if you get scared, ok?" She looked at him, trying and failing to focus. He stroked her cheek again, but couldn't say more because the nurse returned. He straightened and she smiled as she read over the vital statistics. "All her levels are looking good for now. Her blood pressure is up, but she's probably stressed. Let's see if maybe some warm blankets make it better. We'll try some ice chips later on."
She disappeared, only to reappear seconds later bearing an armful of blankets which she spread over Sara, who was drifting easily on the narcotics, with tremendous care. She smoothed out the final wrinkles and turned to him.
"I suppose you'll be with us for the rest of the evening. We can bring you a cot. Another night in that chair will put you in here with her." She gestured to the recliner he'd occupied. Gibbs felt like she was speaking to him from very far away—the adrenaline and upset of the past twenty-four hours was catching up to him, and he's just wanted to rest. He shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.
"I'm sorry, but I forgot to ask your name."
She smiled. "It's been an exciting afternoon. I'm Joanna. I'll be on until nine, then Sandy will be on until Colleen comes back tomorrow morning. Is there anything else I can get for you?"
"Besides a short nap? No." He was swaying slightly. He felt lighter than he had in weeks now that Sara was awake, even though he could rationalize that it would be a long time before his life regained any sense of normalcy. He glanced at the bed. Joanna noticed him looking.
"She'll do that for the rest of the day. In fact, why don't you go home and I'll have the cot brought up later on. You can take a short nap at home and be back in plenty of time for evening rounds. We'll probably get her up again when Dr. Levine comes around."
Gibbs was torn; he didn't want to leave, but his body was shutting down and coffe couldn't rescue him from the crash. He surrendered.
"I'll go. But I'm giving every staff member on the floor my card. If she flinches I want to know about it."
She saluted before leaving and he swore she was channeling Abby. Moving back to the bed, he kissed Sara's head and assured her he would return. She slept on, unaware. He dropped a stack of cards on the nurses' desk and jabbed the elevator button.