A/N: Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews! To those of you concerned that this is becoming a Tiva story rather than team friendship, that is not my intention. While a bit Tiva-ish in places, overall I don't think that it is anything more intense or romantic than what we would see on the show (or would have seen back in seasons 5/6ish prior to the whole Rivkin mess, which is when I sort of see this story taking place). It's all just teasers, if you will. :) By the way, I still don't own NCIS nor do I have any sort of medical expertise. -abby
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Afterwards, Ziva would not recall much of the trip to the hospital. While the paramedics busied themselves with monitoring the senior field agent's condition, she spent the entire ten-minute ride stroking Tony's forehead and murmuring quiet words of reassurance in his ear. She did not even realize that she was speaking in Hebrew as she repeated over and over, "You will not die. You will be fine."
The sweat from Tony's fevered forehead stung the chemical burns on Ziva's hands, but she did not notice or care. The Mossad officer's focus was entirely on her partner. Tony had completely stopped reacting to her presence and that terrified Ziva.
They screeched to a halt in the ambulance bay just as the unthinkable happened. "He's not breathing!" Eric shouted as he grabbed an ambu bag and replaced the oxygen mask on Tony's face. In a blur of frenetic activity, the doors were pushed open and Tony was rushed into the ER before Ziva even had time to react.
Sitting in the back of the now-empty ambulance, Ziva was stunned. This cannot be happening, she thought, looking down at her blistered hands. They still burned from the contact with Tony's skin, and now they shook as well, though Ziva couldn't tell if it was from fear or exhaustion. Probably both, she decided wearily as the events of the day finally slammed into her full-force. Ziva suddenly realized she was too tired to do anything but sit there, shaking and praying and willing everything to be fine.
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Abby hovered worriedly in the back of Gibbs' ambulance, peppering the tolerant EMTs with questions about his condition. She was doing anything she could to avoid thinking about how awful Tim and Tony - especially Tony - had looked. Abby did not deal well with uncertainties, that was why she liked forensics so much. There could always be a concrete answer when science was involved. They're fine, everything's fine, she convinced herself. They'll beat us to the ER. In fact, I bet they're already there- Abby's internal stream of consciousness came to an abrupt end as they pulled up at the local hospital.
The Goth stepped out of the ambulance and stayed out of the way as Gibbs was wheeled inside the emergency room. She was about to go along when something caught her attention.
Abby followed the sound of the quiet sobs, and to her shock discovered Ziva as their source. The Mossad officer - who Abby had frequently accused of being cold and emotionless – was crying softly in the back of an empty ambulance. A tight ball of fear formed in the pit of Abby's stomach, and she swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. Tony…
Unsure of what to say, Abby approached the other woman carefully. "Ziva? Are you okay?"
Ziva didn't seem startled, just shrugged and looked away as she blinked back tears. Abby sat down and put an arm around Ziva's shoulders.
"Tony stopped breathing," Ziva said simply. The revelation brought tears to Abby's eyes as well and the two friends sat there for a long time, each seeking comfort from the other.
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Dr. Mallard paced the ER's waiting room, awaiting word on his colleagues, the men he considered friends. As he paced, the ME wondered what was keeping Abby and Ziva. He didn't have to wonder long, as the automatic doors swept open and his female colleagues entered the waiting area. Red-rimmed eyes made it clear that they had both been crying, and their tear-streaked faces were tight with worry.
"Ducky!" Abby rushed into his open arms for a hug. "Any news?"
The doctor shook his head sadly, watching as the hopeful faces fell. "I tried to stay with Timothy but they shepherded me out here. I asked for word on Anthony and Jethro but no one seems to know anything." He patted Abby's back gently. "They're in good hands, Abigail."
The three friends sat down to wait together. No sooner had they positioned themselves in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs when a good-looking young doctor came through the door.
"Are you here with the NCIS agents?" He seemed to know the answer and did not wait for a response before plowing ahead. "I'm Dr. Karras. I've been working on Special Agent DiNozzo."
Abby couldn't contain herself and quickly blurted, "Tony! Is he okay?" She jumped to her feet and put her hands on her hips, as though daring the doctor to give her any answer other than an unequivocal yes.
Karras stiffened under the young woman's scrutiny, and his tone became guarded. "He is alive. Critical, but stable. We're moving him up to ICU right now. The infection in his lungs is quite severe, and we've put him on a ventilator until the antibiotics can get it under control."
Ziva's soft voice was a sharp contrast to Abby's. "Is he going to be all right?"
Dr. Karras sighed. He hated this part of the job. "I honestly don't know. I hope so. He has a long road ahead."
"I want to see him," Ziva said quietly. "Is that possible?"
Normally ICU patients were not allowed visitors – except for family members – but something in the intensity of the young woman's gaze made Karras hesitate to deny her request. "I'll see what I can do," he promised. The doctor turned to leave the room, then snapped his fingers as he remembered something else.
"I took the liberty of checking in on your other two agents. Agent McGee's nose is badly broken and he lost a lot of blood from what appeared to be an arrow wound-" Ziva nodded her confirmation as Abby and Ducky looked suitably shocked "-but in time, he should make a full recovery. Agent Gibbs has a serious concussion and may need surgery to repair some ligaments in his knee, but overall they're both doing fine."
Karras anticipated the next question from his concerned-looking audience and continued without missing a beat. "They're being moved to a room upstairs. You can see them shortly, I'll send a nurse in." He smiled reassuringly and took his leave.
Dr. Mallard smiled and grabbed the hands of both young women, frowning at the resulting gasp from Ziva. "What is it, my dear?" It was only then that he noticed the burns covering the palms of her hands. "Oh, my, what caused this?"
"It is nothing, Ducky. Just a result of my own stupidity," Ziva said scornfully. She kissed the elderly man on the cheek. "I promise."
Abby chimed in. "Ziva! You should get them looked at, I bet it hurts!"
Ziva was saved from making another excuse when a nurse poked her head into the waiting area. "I'm supposed to take one of you up to see Agent DiNozzo? Dr. Karras is making arrangements with the ICU staff. This way, please." Without further ado, the nurse headed down the corridor.
As Ziva moved to leave, Abby grabbed her friend by the arm. "Give him a kiss for me. Tell him I said to hang in there."
"I will." The Mossad officer inclined her head at her colleagues as she followed the petite nurse toward Intensive Care.
A short walk and elevator ride later, the nurse pointed at a closed ICU door. "He's in there. You may stay as long as you like, just please be quiet. Someone will check in on him shortly."
Ziva did not comment. She slipped silently through the door to Tony's room and cursed her own emotional weakness as her eyes filled with tears yet again. Oh, Tony. Why is it always you? You deserve better than this.
Tony looked more vulnerable than she had even seen him. He was no longer flushed and sweating with fever, but his pale stillness was even more disturbing. His left wrist - the one that Johnston had bitten - was wrapped heavily in white bandages, and an IV dripped fluids and medication into his other arm. A tube running down his throat connected to a ventilator above the bed. Ziva knew she should find the rhythmic click-whoosh of the machine reassuring since it meant that Tony was alive, but instead it served as a vivid reminder of how he almost hadn't been.
Cautiously, Ziva approached the bedside. There was a single chair near the head of Tony's bed, and she slowly folded herself into it, dark eyes never leaving her partner's face.
"Tony?" She whispered, hoping for - yet not expecting - a response. "Do you hear me?"
Nothing. Ziva sighed, and leaned toward the bed. "I am here, Tony. You just rest, and I will be here when you awaken." She leaned back into the chair and closed her eyes, powerless to ward off her exhaustion any longer.
Ziva had been dozing for mere moments when she was startled awake. She sat ramrod straight in the uncomfortable chair, hand automatically heading for her weapon. Once fully alert, she was relieved to see that a nurse had entered the room to check Tony's vitals.
"I am sorry, you startled me," Ziva smiled by way of apology.
The nurse, a short, rotund woman in her early sixties, did not smile in return. She looked Ziva up and down appraisingly. "What are you doing in here? ICU patients aren't supposed to have visitors this time of day," she demanded frostily.
The smile dropped from Ziva's tired features as she explained, "Dr. Karras made arrangements. I am allowed to be here."
Unimpressed, the nurse simply stated, "I see" and went back to charting her patient's vital information. Ziva watched but did not say anything further. Once the nurse turned to leave, Ziva settled back into the chair and closed her eyes again.
She did not see the look of pure, unadulterated hate that flickered across the nurse's face as the woman left the room.