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"That can't be comfortable," Tony muttered, turning his head to look at Ziva.

"You're awake," she gasped, jumping up from her chair and leaning over to hug him.

"How long was I out?" he asked, blinking his eyes.

"A little more then a day," she shrugged, sitting on the edge of his bed. He tried to more over to make room for her but winced in pain as his shoulder twisted ever so slightly.

"Don't move, Baby, it's fine." She laid her hand on his left shoulder and rubbed it gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore, tired… is this how you felt?"

"Yeah, except you get to walk around."

"Ah, in case you didn't notice, I only have one arm."

"You win, for now," she narrowed her eyes at him before breaking into a grin and leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. "Now get some sleep, you will need it."

"Thanks," he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut. He was fast asleep a second later. She smiled, giving his forehead one last kiss before curling back up in her chair. He was right, it wasn't comfortable, at all. But she would do anything for him.

She must have drifted off because she jumped when a loud alarm suddenly went off.

"What happened?" she asked one of the nurses who had rushed in.

"He's gone into shock," she called over her shoulder without really looking at Ziva.

"What's wrong?" she cried, grabbing another's arm as they pushed his bed out of the room.

"I don't know, we have to get him back to surgery." They left Ziva alone in the bleak hospital room, tears quietly streaming down her face. It was a minute before she pulled out her phone and dialed an all to familiar number.

"Gibbs," he answered on the third ring, pushing the blanket away as propped himself up on his elbow.

"Help me, Gibbs," she sobbed, hugging her knees as close as she could to her chest.

"I'll be right there." He dropped the phone, grabbing his keys and sweatshirt as he slipped his shoes on.

Half an hour later he brushed past the reception desk and pushed open the door to Tony's room.

"Ziva?" he muttered. She looked up, all bleary eyed and messy hair. "What happened?" he asked, gently lifting her so he could hug her.

"He is going to die, Gibbs," she cried, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Talk to me," he tried to sooth, running his hand up and down her back.

"We were sleeping, and then there was beeping and yelling and then they took him back to surgery."

"Did they say what was wrong?"

"They did not know, they just said he had gone into shock." The tears continued to fall as she clutched at the gray fabric of sweatshirt.

"That doesn't mean he's going to die, Ziva," he tried. She just kept weeping loudly.

Eventually she cried herself out and he lowered her back into the chair where she quickly fell asleep. He quietly slipped out of the room and made his way to the front desk.

"Hi, how can I help you?" the receptionist asked.

"Can I get a cot set up in room 507?"

"Of course. Is it for you?" she asked, smiling.

"No, the patient's fiancée." Wow that sounds weird, he thought. "And do you have that patient's current status?"

"Ah, he went into surgery half an hour ago, he's condition hasn't been updated since then."

"Okay, thanks." He turned to leave, but then spun on his heel as something else popped into his head. "Can you send someone in when his condition is posted?"

"Yes," she nodded.

He headed back to the room and took a seat in the second chair, watching over Ziva's sleeping form. He looked up when at the sudden knock on the door.

"Did you ask for a cot?" the young boy asked.

"Yeah, thanks." He took the small box from the kid and quickly set it up.

"Ziva," he whispered, nudging her shoulder. She merely groaned and turned away from him. He smirked and bent over so he could lift her up. She barely reacted as he laid her down, pulling the scratchy blanket over her shoulders.