Tim was brought to by a stream of water beating harshly against his face and a killer headache which throbbed against his temples. Slightly dazed, he sat back against his seat, gently bringing his hand to his head. He couldn't quite remember where he was or why there was blood on his hands, though the latter probably had something to do with the chunk of broken glass which had sliced across his skin.

He winced at the sight of his marred hands and instinctively turned away. His attention was caught by Ziva's unconscious form. Her head was resting against the driver's side window and when Tim leaned over to check on her, he saw that blood was trickling down the side of her face. She had probably struck her head against the window during the crash, giving her a nasty wound and knocking her out; at least he hoped she was only knocked out.

"Ziva?" he rasped as he placed his hand on her shoulder. His throat was dry and tight as he shook her. "Ziva?" She gave no response. He checked for a pulse, sighing in relief when he felt one.

Tim sat back and assessed the situation. The back of the car had crashed into a tree and he had the feeling it wasn't about to move again anytime soon, though the engine was still running. A branch had fallen onto the front of the car, causing the windshield to crack open, covering them both with glass. The storm was still going strong and the now open windshield allowed the rain in, soaking both Tim and Ziva to the core. There was no sign of anyone nearby; Tim had a feeling they were on their own.

He jumped into action, tending to Ziva the best he could. He unbuckled her seatbelt and gently transferred her body to the backseat to get her out of the rain. He then shrugged off his trench coat and wrapped it around her to keep her warm for the time being.

There was no signal on his phone, unsurprisingly. It was still storming, but Tim knew their best bet was to call someone...anyone. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and hesitantly stepped out into the downpour. His plan was to walk a ways further to see if he could get a signal, but first he wanted to check her trunk for anything useful. He wished they had been driving his car because he knew he at least had a first aid kit and a flashlight in his car. Of course, if they had been in his car, he would have been driving and there was a good chance they wouldn't have been in this situation to begin with…

Tim shook his head. Now was not the time to point fingers. They needed to get out of there.

He wrapped his arms around his torso as the wind blew against him. He took a step and winced as a pain shot through his right leg. It wasn't broken as far as he could tell and he was able to walk—or, rather, limp—but he felt something wrong with his ankle. It was probably sprained, but he didn't know enough about anatomy to self-diagnose.

He pushed down the pain and pulled himself to the trunk. It popped up after a few tries to get the right key in. His fingers were frozen and it took more effort to turn the key than it should have. Inside, he saw a tire iron, some newly-retrieved dry cleaning, and, to his delight, a blanket and flashlight. He grabbed the latter two objects and slammed the trunk shut before hurrying back into the car.

Ziva still had not come to, and remained motionless as he took back his coat and replaced it with the infinitely warmer blanket. He hated to leave her like that, especially if she were to wake and find herself alone; he knew, though, that he had to try and get a signal on his phone, so he couldn't sit here and just wait for her to wake up before doing so. She could be hurt beyond what he could see and getting medical attention was his primary concern.

The car engine could still run so far as Tim could tell, so he returned the keys to the ignition and turned on the heat to keep Ziva warm. He also turned on the emergency lights, though it looked as though one had been broken in the impact. He gave Ziva a soft kiss on the temple and stepped into the storm once again.

He couldn't be sure how far he'd walked–limped he corrected as the pain shot through once more–but, thanks to his still barless cell phone, he could see that he had been walking for nearly twenty minutes. In that time, not a single vehicle had passed him, making his heart sink deeper in his chest. Their chances of getting out of there quickly were growing dim.

After another five minutes went by with neither a car nor a cell phone signal appearing, Tim stopped where he was. He looked ahead in the direction he'd been walking and then looked in the direction from which he'd come. He could keep walking and hope for something, but he knew he couldn't stay out here for much longer. He didn't want to return to the car without help, but Tim got the feeling there was little else he could do at the moment.

In the end, Tim opted to keep going for at least ten more minutes. He ambled down the road, pulling his trench close around his body. The rain hadn't lessened for even a moment and the ominous sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, but he pushed through it, thinking back to Ziva lying hurt and unconscious in the back of her car.

Finally, after a few minutes, Tim hit success. He had a signal on his phone; it was a weak one, but it was a signal just the same. He quickly dialed 911, closing his eyes in happiness as he heard the ringing on the other end.

"911, what is your emergency?" the woman on the other side asked.

"Hello! My girlfriend and I were in a bad car crash. She's unconscious and we need help."

The connection was overlaid with static and he almost didn't hear her reply. "Can you repeat that, sir?"

"We were in a car crash!" he yelled. "Please, we need medical attention!"

"Car…how hurt…location?" Her question was coming in pieces.

"What?" he asked. "She's hurt! We need help and-." The phone went dead. "Hello?"

Tim pulled the phone away and looked in horror at his dead phone. He had been so preoccupied with getting a signal that he hadn't even thought about whether or not his phone had a low battery. He was tempted to chuck the now useless phone deep into the woods, but decided against it. Throwing away his phone would so him no good in the end.

Dejectedly, he made his way back to the car as the storm around him worsened.