"Do you believe in monsters, Ziva?" Tony asked wide-eyed from his bed in a breathless voice.

He had just finished a rant on monsters in fiction versus movies. Apparently, the ones in books were better. She was definitely not going to let him forget that once he had regained his senses.

Ziva looked back from adjusting his blinds and thought of all the suspects, terrorists and bad-but-not-a-criminal-so-no-you-can't-hurt-them-Ziva people then looked a Tony's glassy eyes.

He had been given strong painkillers earlier thanks to a nasty jagged gash that was now across his ribcage. Stupid suspect had decided to throw a piece of car at them in the junkyard they had traced him to. She was now officially on Tony-watch in case he injured himself in his medicated high or tore his stitches, thankfully Gibbs had sent them both home for the night. He didn't like keeping a medicated Tony around the office any more after the last incident…

Oh, Tony was still looking at her expectantly.

"No," she said resolutely.

People, she had learned early, were much more terrifying than monsters and she did not want to get into a debate about werewolves or other such nonsense her partner had been babbling about. She got confused trying to follow his semi-lucid thought process. Mostly because he kept jumping from topic to unrelated topic as if they were related. It was hard to keep up.

Silence from Tony.

Ziva approached him cautiously, he was staring very intensely across his room. Was he hallucinating? That would be very She didn't think that was a side effect of his medication… Maybe it was a sign that he had an infection? Unfortunately, she'd had more than her fair share of those. They were fairly irritating. And normally required more hospital care which she definitely did not like. And she was sure Tony would also not like to be returned to the hospital.

"Tony?"

He frowned at her and quickly flung a pillow over his face, burying under his covers and curling in on himself. He was going to tear his stitches if he kept that up. She tugged him so he was semi-upright again, she did not go through all the effort of arranging his many, many pillows just for him to bleed all over them.

"Tony!" she said more sharply, had he fallen asleep?

"So, you don't believe in monsters?" he repeated in a childish voice.

"No," she said exasperatedly.

She thought she had made that quite clear. Surely that had penetrated his (medically sanctioned) drug addled mind.

He pouted at her tone but then shot her an attempt at a charming smile. It was lopsided and looked demonic.

"Good, then you won't mind checking my closet?" he asked, voice now muffled by the pillow by the pillow he had decided to clutch.

She tugged it away from him and gave him a scolding look, the type you'd give to a misbehaving toddler.

"What?"

Yep, he was definitely hallucinating. Now she just had to figure out how to get him out of his shirt so she could check his injury. Tony tended to get... floppy, when drugged up like this. He didn't seem to remember how his limbs worked.

"Because, I swear I saw fangs and fur before the door shut."

Ziva sighed heavily. Of course, he did.

"It also growled!" he said insistently as she got up to 'check' the closet for him.

Paranoia was also a sign of infection. She couldn't help but feel more than a little bit worried now.

First things first. Ziva had promised Gibbs that she would not cause her partner any further distress and when he was loopy on painkillers it really was best to go along with it.

Opening the door wide, Ziva waved her hand inside.

"See? No monsters," she told him.

He gave her as intense a look as he could muster in his present state then he gave her a beaming smile.

"Yeah, what monster would dare stick around when I have my own ninja assassin," he bragged, shuffling under his covers again.

Ziva grabbed them off him and pulled them to one side.

"Hey!"

"I need to check your dressings Tony."

That was a better excuse than needlessly worrying about his injury. In this state, he'd probably absentmindedly pick at it or something.

"They haven't slid off," he complained and made grabby motions with his hand. "Give me my blanket!"

She ignored him and pinned him with a glare. That, at least, penetrated through the fog of his mind. Enough to make him slump against his headboard in a pout.

"You have been moving about too much," she made the excuse. "You might have torn your stitches."

He frowned at her and shrugged, making an attempt to struggle out of penetrated the t-shirt he used as a pyjama top. Not that he got further than tangling his arms in it. With an eyeroll, Ziva tugged it over his head.

"Where'd it go?" Tony asked in wonderment, looking at his ceiling.

Ziva ignored him and instead busied herself checking his bandages. Pulling them back slightly, she ran her fingers around the skin surrounding the gash on his ribs. She breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't come across any swelling or heat rising from it. No, just healthy pink skin trying to heal. Phew. She put his bandages back in place and handed Tony back his t-shirt. He had more success getting it back on.

"So, no monsters?" He checked as she returned his blankets back to him.

"No monsters," she reassured him again.

"Tha's goo'," he replied with a yawn. "I don't like monsters."

"Neither do I."

Ziva tugged his covers out of his grasp and smoothed them over him properly, shaking her head fondly.

"Go to sleep Tony," she instructed softly.

"Hmm mmm," he said unintelligibly, eyes fluttering and waving his hands at his closet again.

"Sleep, I'll be here."