Chapter 25

Abby was questioning the judgment Gibbs was expressing. Not that she didn't trust him implicitly, but this was just a bad idea. She could feel it.

Tim was not in a very good frame of mind right now. He was distracted. He shouldn't be interrogating the kid he had punched earlier when she could tell he had taken the boys word for the events at the cabin to heart.

He was doubting his adrenaline based moment of rage. He shouldn't be stepping foot in front of a kid that they needed information out of when he was feeling any level of guilt for his actions towards the boy.

He had been exuding doubt when she'd walked into the observation room. It was a heck of a change over the confident, no nonsense, take no bull man who had practically swaggered into the hospital room a short time ago.

She couldn't help wondering if Tim's current uneasiness was her fault.

He seemed to falter in his optimism and fall back into self doubt after she basically called him stupid for kissing her.

It wasn't that it had really been so bad. She'd been glad he was alive after everything he had gone through and the adrenaline and passion of the moment was enough to make her head spin even before he kissed her.

She had been almost glad when he hurt himself, not that she'd ever be glad he had done harm to himself, but more because it gave her an easy way out to the situation.

She knew where this all led. It led to comfortable nights, cozy dates, sweet gentle kisses, cuddling and laughing and killing each other on computer games until the wee hours of the night before falling into bed exhausted, but not too exhausted.

But in the end it would lead to the same fate their relationship had suffered the first time they had been together.

Abby couldn't stop herself reminiscing on their past together, everything they had shared, everything they had been to each other. Things had been going along fine.

Being with McGee had been one of the lowest stress relationships she had ever been in. He wasn't as experienced a guy as she was accustomed to dating. He was shy and sweet, generous and thoughtful. Pretty much the opposite of her normal 'type'.

He was so far from the bad boys she normally dated. He wasn't covered in tattoos, pierced in odd places. He didn't make statements with his clothes, unless you considered 'slightly dorky professional' a fashion statement.

Him being different from her former lovers hadn't been a bad thing, really. She kind of liked being treated like she was special, like she was someone to be treasured, like he would walk across a field of lava to bring her a Caf-Pow!, if that's what he thought she needed.

It had been good at first, but then he became a permanent field agent. That was the beginning of the end, though it took a while for everything to come to a head.

He started to learn things, from the team, from the work, but mostly from Gibbs. One night, cuddling in bed, skin on skin, his hand rubbing across her back as she rested her head against his chest, he brought up rule 12 to her. Asked if she thought Gibbs had a problem with the two of them being together.

She had just laughed it off, but she felt his heart start racing under her cheek. She folded her hands on his chest and rested her chin on them so she could look him in the eyes.

He was nervous.

More nervous than their first time together, nervous.

She started to worry he might actually be concerned about his job and his chance to stay in the field. She knew he loved his life as a field agent and was trying to think of something to say to ease his mind, but couldn't think of much besides just telling him it was fine.

She pulled a hand free from under her head and started running her fingers over his shoulder, down his arm, trying to calm him with actions since words didn't seem to be coming to her.

"The actual rule is 'never date a co-worker', but I think I may have figured out a loophole." he had paused as if waiting for something.

When she looked back up to his eyes he smiled softly down at her and reached a hand to twirl her pigtail on his finger. "We should get married." her hand stilled on his shoulder, "I love you." Panic set in. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She didn't acknowledge him, couldn't speak. He had shook her into speechlessness with three little words. Three words that she couldn't say back to him.

That was so far from what she ever expected out of his mouth. Finally she breathed again as she tried to formulate a response. Her instinct kicked in and she looked at him, and hated herself as she watched his face fall when she lied to him, "I don't."

She had taken his kind heart in her hands and crushed it. He has always been so sweet that even this destroying of his hopes had been pushed aside because it was what she wanted.

To him it had always been about what she wanted. She wanted him he was delighted. She didn't want him, he was accepting, even to the point of still being her friend and someone she could rely on.

He never pushed, he never asked to be back together, he never whined or moped or sent her dozens of roses. He just let her have the space she had said she needed and allowed her to run and hide like she always did.

It was better this way. Easier. Or at least it was supposed to be, so why did he have to go and try to ruin everything in the emergency room like that?

Suddenly the interrogation room door opened and she pulled herself out of the past as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her.

xoxo

To Tony's delight the hospital had a wide range of movies, apparently donated by some charitable organizations. Now that was a cause he could get behind.

He was going to suggest they watch The Bucket List since she had purportedly never seen it, but if memory served, there were quite a few funny scenes in that movie and he wanted to keep the jarring of her damaged ribs and lungs to a minimum.

She asked about the Walt Kowalski reference he had made about McGee when he had told her about the raid on the cabin and he figured that would be a safe bet. At least as far as laughter, except for those few scenes that cracked him up. There was, however, a problem with the movie that he wasn't sure she'd be able to overlook.

"I don't know about that one. The main character is a little 'colorful' with his language."

She rolled her eyes at him, "I am surrounded by sailors all day. I think I can handle a little crude language."

He shook his head, "Not what I meant, exactly. He has racially colorful language. It's kind of key to the story and understanding the character. Key to understanding how he grows and who he really is on the inside."

"OK, I do not want to watch this movie if you are going to continue to babble until you give away the whole thing."

He grinned, he should have known she was harder to offend than that, "Just giving you an out, that's all. It really is a great movie."

She shot him a glare.

"Right, shutting up now." he said, making a mock zipping motion across his mouth, pretending to lock it with an invisible key.

Ziva snorted, "That will not last long."

As if to prove that he was committed to his promise to shut up and let her enjoy the movie he reached across the space between them as if handing her the key he had pretended to lock his mouth shut with a moment before.

To Ziva's surprise he was true to his word. Tony kicked back and watched the movie, refraining from speaking the entire time.

A little over halfway through, just as the characters were developing and she was getting drawn into their world there was a light knock on the door and it was opened up.

A doctor walked in with a file in his hand, and Ziva noticed that Tony must have hit the pause button to delay the rest of the movie.

The older man, tall with thin features, kind of resembling a vulture, approached Tony with a smile. Something that she assumed he rarely dusted off and pulled out because it looked entirely forced. "Hi, Tony. I'm Dr. Henry Wright. I am a part of the neurology program here at Jackson Memorial."

"What's up, Doc?" Tony asked with a goofy little grin.

Dr. Wright did not look amused, "Your results are in and everything is looking pretty good in comparison to the scans we took when you first arrived."

The doctor paused and they both knew he wasn't done talking, but he also wasn't saying anything, "But?" Ziva asked.

"'But', a few things came back inconclusive and we're going to need to run another test in the morning, because of the seizure activity." She heard Tony shift around in his bed, but he didn't interrupt the doctor, "Everything seems to be alright, so I wouldn't worry too much."

Ziva noted he did not seem very good at reassuring people, either, in addition to having a poor excuse for a smile.

"We are going to run an EEG in the morning, but I need you to try to stay awake until then." The doctor looked at the clock over his shoulder. "We'll have the technician in here at around 5am, so you'll only need to stay awake for about 6 more hours."

"What is the point of staying up all night?" Tony asked and Ziva could hear the annoyance in his voice.

"Brains are a funny thing, Mr. DiNozzo," Oh, right, now he's got a real smile on his face. He appeared to be able to identify with brains better than people. That explained a lot. "In a situation like this, we can't tell you why this or that happens, but after it has we can do a few things. Staying awake and suffering sleep deprivation will cause your brain to be in a weakened state. Once we have your brain in a precarious position when will hook electrodes to your head and try a few things to induce a seizure. Noise, lights, etc."

"Now wait a minute." Ziva interrupted, anger lacing her tone, "You want to make him have another seizure?"

"That's not the intention." Dr. Wright apparently did not appreciate being talked to that way, "We need to look for signs that it could happen again."

She watched as Tony's eyes widened just a fraction, "Are you saying I could have knocked my head hard enough to make myself prone to seizures?"

"Like I said, brains are a funny thing. It is a possibility." He replied briefly. His nonchalance and indifference made Ziva have to fight the urge to strangle the neurologist in the middle of the room for his lack of any kind of bed side manner.

"We will know more tomorrow." the doctor finished and left them alone again.

She had watched the man leave as if it were any other day for him and Tony let out a frustrated growl.

Ziva turned to him, finally breaking the long silence that had settled on them since the doctor left, "It is only a few hours."

"I know, but what if it's the last few hours?" he replied quietly.

She did not follow his logic, surely he did not think that he was going to die from lack of sleep. Before she could even question the strange statement he continued.

"What if they find something in there?" instantly his tone put her on edge. Who was this talking to her, voice soft and shy, sounding almost like a lost child, "I can't be a federal agent if at any moment I could fall to a seizure. Hard to be someone to rely on in a tough situation."

"We should just focus on staying awake and we can build that bridge when we come to it."

The faulty idiom earned her a ghost of the usual cocky smile as he corrected flatly, "It's cross the bridge."

"Do you not need to build a bridge before you can cross it?"

He gave her a weak smile and ignored any further comments by switching the movie back on.

She knew he was done talking, but she couldn't stop dwelling on what he had said. What he must be feeling. He seemed content just wallowing alone because he refused to talk things out. Refused to ask for help or support from anyone because he was too damn stubborn and stuck in his ways.

She was certain that, more than almost anyone she knew, he would feel worthless at a desk. He was a lot like her in that regard. The job was his life, as much as it was hers. They didn't connect to other people, they didn't have family or too many friends. What they had was justice, truth, honor. What they had was their work.

As the movie continued, she finally allowed her mind to filter back over and begin watching it again. While she was catching all the main plot points, she was also glancing at him through her lashes occasionally to make sure he was still awake.

He seemed content to completely ignore the situation and pretend to focus all his attention on the movie. If she followed his gaze, however, he was staring several feet to the left of the screen at the plain white wall.

As the action picked up in the movie and the emotions played across the screen the drama seemed to impact her in her current state of worry and she found herself reaching out to him.

He wasn't even looking at her, but as if he sensed her movements he reached out and his hand met hers halfway between their two beds. The contact seemed to tether him back in the situation and he turned a little smile to her before he focused back on the screen.

He squeezed her hand when she gasped at the dramatic ending she hadn't seen coming. She squeezed back as they watched the car drive off into the distance and the credits rolled.

It was a long moment before either one spoke.

"I know you think you will not have anything if you do not have your job. You will not be worth anything or good for anything, but you are wrong." she said sincerely, but not able to look at him because this kind of thing always seemed to make her uncomfortable.

She wasn't good at telling people what they were good at or good for or what she appreciated about them. But this was Tony. This was her friend and he needed to understand that he was more than his job.

"You are not the sum total of what you do. You are not just your job."

"It's all I'm good at." His tone was just as subdued as hers and he was also avoiding her gaze.

She would have laughed about what an emotionally messed up couple of people they were that they couldn't even have a simple conversation if it didn't involve being flirtatious, joking, or working.

She knew from what little he had said that his childhood was probably a lot like hers in the area of affection from a father. She supposed a childhood burying feelings is what led them to this point in their lives. A point where, though fully grown and mentally developed, they were not able to grasp the simple emotional gestures.

She tugged lightly on his hand until he looked at her, "That is a lie."

He just shrugged, obviously not buying it.

"You are a good friend." she held his gaze a moment, but had to look away again.

As she started speaking again, this time he tugged lightly on her hand until she returned her eyes to his. "You might think that without your job you will have nothing. You might think that you will be alone again and forgotten, but you are wrong. You may lose your job, that is a possibility, though I have hope and faith that this will all turn out OK. You may lose 'everything' if everything is field work, but you will not lose your friends. You will not lose me."

His eyes darkened and she couldn't tell if she had just made things better or worse because his expression was blank.

After a few seconds he finally opened his mouth to respond, but there was another knock on the door as the nurse came in to check on them.

Their hands parted and she felt the space between them as if it were actually miles instead of a couple of feet.

As the nurse checked each of them, Ziva felt herself hoping that she had picked the right words.

xoxo

A/N: This was written in a daze of the stomach bug that will, apparently, never end. Any errors are mine and any silliness is an unfortunate consequence of not wanting to stop the progress in the story even if my sleep deprived, exhausted brain thinks it deserves a break.