Title: From Darkness into Light
Author: chiroho
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to their respective creators, including Donald P. Bellisario, CBS Broadcasting Inc, and Paramount Pictures.
Setting: River in Egypt fic for "Twilight"
Summary: Kate doesn't die, but does get injured, and must recover.
Pairing: Tony/Kate
A/N: Thanks very much to Sue Corkill for the beta, and all the medical advice in writing this fic. I couldn't have got this done without her help. Thanks also to everyone who has given me feedback on my previous fics. It's very inspiring to get, and I'm very grateful.

Darkness

The darkness around you is thick, almost palpable. It surrounds and suffocates you, threatening to choke away your very life. You try to figure out where you are, but there is nothing but inky black - deeper even than you remember from the one time you went spelunking.

You call for help, but your voice sounds muffled, somehow internal. You cry louder, but to no avail. Finally you find yourself screaming for someone, anyone, as the sound of your voice fades slowly into the ever-present darkness.

"You okay?"

"Owwwwwww. I just got shot at point blank range, DiNozzo. What do you think?"

"You're not going to be going to Pilates class tomorrow?"

"Ugh."

"Protection detail is over."

"You did good."

"For once, DiNozzo is right."

"Wow." You laugh at the thought of Gibbs actually telling Tony that he's right, then wince in pain from the massive bruising the bullet stopped by the vest did to your stomach.

Suddenly everything goes black.

Time passes, and the darkness remains unchanged. It stifles and oppresses everything so much that you can barely even hear the sound of your own breathing.

Your mind wanders as you try and imagine where on earth you could be. It's amazing how you can feel comfortable, or at least less panicked, if a person knows where they are and why. You know that's something that everyone feels, but you don't know how or why you know that. Unfortunately, you don't know where you are, so you spend your time trying to figure it out.

"What have you got?"

"GSW to the right temporal lobe. Definite skull fracture. Possible epidural hematoma. Pulse is 40 and weak, pressure 80 over 40. Significant blood loss. We thought we'd lost her at least once on the way here."

"She's going to need surgery. All we can do is try and stabilize things before sending her up."

"Get a blood sample. I want a type specific match and 4 litres on the rapid infuser, stat!"

"Sir? Sir? Sir! You're going to have to wait outside."

"Get him out of here! And see if you can't get him cleaned up before he realizes what's all over his face."

"She's crashing!"

"I'm pushing 1 milligram of epi. Someone get me the crash cart."

"Clear!"

You notice that the darkness is no longer empty. A sound penetrates it, seeming to slither towards you. It is slow and constant, perhaps water dripping slowly onto a metal surface.

Yet the sound is somehow familiar. You know that you should recognize it – and yet the words to describe what you hear somehow elude you. It's like your brain doesn't want to remember. At least you're not in silence any more, even though you don't know what you're hearing.

"What's your assessment, Doctor?"

"Agent Todd made it through the surgery, Doctor Mallard. There was an epidural hematoma, and she's experienced some minor cranial swelling. She's lucky the shot just clipped the side of her head."

"If she was lucky, that bastard would have missed!"

"Easy, Tony. Is there anything we can do, Doctor?"

"Nothing really. She's in a coma now, and may be for some time. We're going to transfer her up to Bethesda tomorrow for follow up care. They have better facilities for rehabilitation. One of you can stay with her, if you'd like."

"I'll stay."

"Are you sure, Tony? Yes, of course you are."

You notice something else in the darkness - something more than the ever present drip, drip, drip of whatever it is. It's a smell that reminds you of cleaning. It's another thing you know you should remember, but just can't seem to place.

But there is something else, another smell that is so tantalizingly familiar, something that is both suede and musk at the same time, with a hint of spices. It's a smell that brings a sense of comfort with it, though somehow tinged with both amusement and anger. You struggle to remember, to put a name to the image, but you can't. It's just too hard.

"You need to go home, DiNozzo. You've been here for two days straight. You need to get some rest."

"Are you listening to me, DiNozzo?"

"Snap out of it, DiNozzo! Now go home - that's an order!"

"Screw you, Gibbs! She didn't leave me and I'm not leaving her!"

Something has changed. The dripping continues in the darkness, and the smells are no different, but something has changed. Before there was no temperature, no hot or cold. Now there is warmth. It's doesn't cover all of you. It's just there in a small area on your left side. Not touching your side, but there just beside you, touching your … hand. That's the word that you were looking for. Hand.

The warmth slowly spreads up your arm, giving you a slight tingling sensation as it does so. The darkness no longer seems so scary or intimidating, and the other unfamiliar things disappear back into the darkness.

"Oh Caitlyn! What have they done to you?"

"Mrs. Todd? I'm Doctor Anderson, Kate's doctor. She received a gun shot wound to her head. The surgery went well, but there were some minor complications. Once she comes out of the coma, we expect that she'll eventually be able to make a full recovery."

"Eventually?"

"There are never any guarantees, Mrs. Todd, but she's breathing on her own, and that's a good sign. We just have to wait."

"She's going to be fine, Mrs. Todd. I know she is."

"Who are you?"

"Anthony DiNozzo. I'm Kate's partner."

"Were you there when ... When it happened?"

"I was standing right beside her."

There is no sense of time in the darkness. You don't know whether you've been there for hours, days, or weeks. You're not even sure if it really matters. The darkness doesn't seem as frightening as it once did. The dripping sound is now comforting, as is the musky scent that comes and goes along with the warmth near your hand.

Even the darkness no longer scares you like it did at first. It's not comforting, but it's not as constricting as it once was, and it might even be getting a little brighter – though that could just be your imagination.

"I'm worried about Tony."

"So am I, Abigail."

"You need to talk to him, Ducky. He looks terrible."

"You have to go home and get some rest, Anthony. Your body still hasn't fully recovered from the Y. pestis and you're running a slight temperature. You need to sleep properly. Staying here on a hospital bed isn't helping you."

"I can't leave her, Ducky. She stayed with me. I can't do any less for her."

"Abigail will stay with her Anthony, and her family will be here as well. She won't be alone."

"I have to stay with her. I don't want to leave."

"You won't be any good to her or anyone if you have to be re-admitted to hospital yourself."

"I know."

"Come on, Anthony. I'll drive you home."

The light continues to brighten, and instead of total darkness you can now make out indistinct shapes. You realize that the dripping is actually a beeping noise and that the ceiling is a uniform off-white colour. You recognize the vague shape of a curtain rail that curves across the ceiling. Struggling to make the connection between the discrete elements, you finally realize that you're in a hospital. What happened? Why are you here?

You move your eyes slowly around the room, trying to focus the blurry images. Slumped in a chair you see a familiar figure, but you can't remember a name. The person has pigtails in her black hair. A memory tugs at you, but slips away when you try and think about it. What is her name?

You try and move your hand, but your muscles are weak, and all you succeed in doing is twitching your fingers. The figure in the chair doesn't notice, so you open your mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a weak croak. But it's enough.

"Kate!" The person in the chair jumps to her feet, wildly excited. "You're awake!" She runs over and grabs your hand. "Don't try and say anything. The doctors will be here in a minute." She leans over and does something out of your line of sight.

Kate? Could that be you?

"It's okay, Kate. You're going to be fine now. You're going to be fine." The smile fills her whole face. It's a smile that you remember well - but still can't place.

You notice movement by the door and a nurse enters the room. She pauses for a second, takes in the fact that you're awake, and then turns to leave. "I'll get the doctor."

It's not long before someone else comes into the room, a stethoscope draped around her neck, wearing the traditional doctor's coat over navy undress khakis.

"Hello Ms. Todd. I'm Doctor Anderson. You had us worried there for a while, but I'm very happy to see you awake. Let me give you a quick exam."

You open your mouth to speak, but once again can only manage a croak.

"Would you like a drink?" You flutter your eyelids as an affirmative. "Nurse, can you get Ms. Todd some water please?"

"Okay then. If you don't mind standing back Ms. Sciuto."

Sciuto. You can almost feel the connection that your mind is trying to make.

The doctor moves around you, making a note of your pulse rate and blood pressure. She also does something to your head, something that sends a shock of pain through you.

"I'm sorry. Did that hurt?"

The nurse comes back with a cup and a straw, and the doctor motions for her to hold it up to your mouth. Sipping the water is difficult, but not impossible, and you only realize how dry your throat has been once you get some moisture in there. You take a few sips while the Doctor continues her examination.

"Can you feel this?" She's touching your hand.

"Yes," you manage to croak.

"What about this?" This time it is your foot.

"Yes."

"That's good."

"What happened?" Your voice sounds very harsh and raspy.

The doctor looks at the woman who was in the room earlier, who shrugs.

"You were admitted with a gunshot wound to your head. We had to operate to repair a skull fracture and remove an epidural hematoma."

A gunshot wound to the head? How did that happen? You remember a blue sky, a light breeze, an ache in your stomach. You were laughing at something. Even Gi-

"Gibbs!"

The doctor looks again at the other woman, who answers. "He's fine, Kate. Well, perhaps fine is the wrong word. He's really more Gibbs than fine, and Gibbs in a bad mood at that. He's been making my life miserable all week."

There is something else, maybe someone else. Something you know you can't quite remember, but you know is vitally important. Suddenly the woman's words hit you.

"All week?"

The doctor frowns. "You have been in a coma for a little over a week, Ms. Todd."

Your mind races, and the doctor obviously sees your expression change.

"It's not at all unusual in cases like yours. Please don't be concerned. Right now you need to get some more sleep though, so I'm going to give you a mild sedative. You're not going anywhere for a while."

She pulls something from her pocket and moves over to where you know your IV must be. The world slowly darkens again, but it's not the thick darkness of before.

"She woke up and you didn't tell me?"

"She was only awake for a few minutes before the doctor sedated her again. She needs to sleep Tony, and so do you!"

"I can't believe I wasn't here!"

"Tony, you've been here non-stop for days. A few hours away didn't hurt."

"I needed to be here when she woke up, and I wasn't. I wasn't here when she needed me."

"I'm sorry, Tony. I truly am."

"Did she say anything?"

"She just asked about Gibbs."

"Nothing else?"

"She really wasn't awake for more than a few minutes."

"You can go, Abbs. I'll stay with her tonight."

"Make sure you take care of yourself, Tony."