Hi all. So, I haven't mentioned this before, but all mistakes are my own. I'm not a medical expert, I only play one when I write. So, I'm sure that there are inaccuracies with what would happen in real life in this chapter. Please don't beat me up too much.

And… nothing NCIS belongs to me. I stated that in the beginning, but better safe than sorry.

Enjoy!

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Ziva stirred. She had come out of her coma approximately twenty-four hours earlier. Memories flooded her. She had been confused, convinced that she had died during her struggle with Mishnev, but recalling the conversations filled with familiar voices that floated around her as well. She hadn't been sure where reality lied, so she had weakly fought back against the strange hands and voices that seemed to be everywhere, trying to slap them away with muscles that wouldn't cooperate, then watched as a pair of those hands inserted a needle into her IV line. Suddenly, a voice had broken through the chaos. Tony had been there, trying to sooth and calm, and she had instantly stopped fighting. The drugs had taken effect not long after, and she had succumbed to their effects.

Now, Ziva wasn't sure if she was actually awake or still stuck in some kind of dream. The intense golden light of either sunrise or sunset streamed through a set of windows landing on Tony's back, illuminating him in an almost spiritual way. She studied him as he studied a paper.

His brow furrowed as he again began reading the letter they had found in her coat pocket. The paper had become worn in the last week, little tears along the edges and the creases, wrinkled and dog-eared corners. Closing his eyes momentarily, he could all but hear her voice greeting him, "My Dearest Tony."

My Dearest Tony,

I knew you would come looking for me. If you are reading this, I am so sorry I did not make it back to you. I knew it would be difficult to succeed on my own, but I needed to protect those I hold so dear to my heart, those that I love. Everyone at NCIS is a member of my family.

But you Tony, you are my soulmate. I have loved you for a long time, it just took me a while to realize you were the one who completed me. And, I needed to do whatever I could to protect you, just as I know you would have done the same for me.

I wish you happiness, Tony, for you so deserve it. You are a good man and I am thankful that I had the privilege of your love. But, now, you must move on. Please, Tony. I want you to live a full, happy life.

Please take the enclosed key and contact Schmeil. He is still at the same location. Explain to him what has happened, and he will know what to do.

Again, I am sorry Tony. I hope that you can forgive me some day.

With all my love. Always.

Ziva

After reading the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time, Tony lowered the paper only to find a pair of tired brown eyes studying him. "Ziva," he breathed, relief flooding each syllable. He set the letter down on the chair behind him. "Ziva."

Ziva closed her eyes and licked her lips. He was real. "Tony?" she tried, voice hoarse and breaking.

"Right here, Sweetcheeks," he replied, taking her hand in both of his.

"Tony? Could I have… some water, please?"

Tony raised the bed so Ziva was in more of a sitting position. Then he grabbed for the hospital issued tumbler, placing the straw to Ziva's lips. "Slowly, ok?"

Ziva gave the smallest nod, leaned her head slightly forward, and took two small sips. "Thank you," she whispered resting her head on the pillow once again.

Tony returned the plastic tumbler to the rolling table and once again held Ziva's hand in both of his. Neither spoke a word. So much needed to be said, yet they were just grateful that they still had each other to hold.

After minutes of silence, Ziva whispered hoarsely, slowly. "Where are we? What happened?"

He thought the anger that he felt at her deceit and the all-encompassing fear that he felt when her heart stopped had been completely replaced by the relief that she was alive. But it simmered back to the surface through layers of exhaustion. "Ramstein," he started tightly. "We found you in Leipzig. You were almost gone, Ziva, when we found you. Then," Tony paused unsure if he wanted to relive the scene yet again. "Then, you actually were gone. Twice. I watched them revive you the first time, bring you back from the dead." Tony noted the solitary tear that slipped down her cheek. He took a steadying breath, not wanting to completely unload when she just woke up. Squeezing her hand, he adjusted his tone. "Hey. I'm just glad you're going to be ok. You were in a coma for seven days. We weren't sure there for a while." He noted her silence, knew he had been a little too harsh. So he tried to lighten the mood. "Well, Tim and I weren't sure. Gibbs, though… Gibbs said that you didn't have his permission, so of course, he wasn't worried."

Ziva avoided eye contact, choosing the ceiling over the green eyes that refused to leave her face. "I remember," she allowed.

The door to the room opened, the strong smell of coffee announcing Gibb's arrival. He expected to walk in and ask Tony for an update. Instead, he scrutinized the tense scene before him – Tony's jaw set, staring at Ziva as if she would disappear if he took his eyes off of her. Ziva's eyes avoiding, focusing on anything but Tony.

"Tony. McGee needs some help packing everything up. Go." Tony didn't move initially, but knew this was Gibbs way of saying he wanted a few minutes with Ziva.

He continued to stare at Ziva as she stared at the wall. He still held her hand, hesitant to let it go. Finally, he stood, placed a light kiss on her forehead, and squeezed her hand before releasing it. "I'll be back in a few."

Gibbs gave Tony an admonishing look as he passed and Tony gave the slightest of nods, acknowledging that he pushed a bit too hard.

Gibbs walked around to the bank of windows and leaned against the air vent, taking another sip of his coffee. He waited silently, knowing Ziva would initiate conversation if he was patient.

She continued to stare at the wall. "He is upset with me," she whispered. It was a simple statement loaded with not-so-simple emotions.

"Yep."

She turned and made eye contact with Gibbs. "You are upset with me."

He cocked his head to the side as the corner of his mouth lifted.

"How many times will I have to explain my motives? I needed to protect you, all of you. You should understand better than anyone, Gibbs." Ziva's frustration mounted in the wake of the fear the whole situation had built. She leaned her head back on her pillow, looking at the ceiling.

"Oh. I do, Ziva. I'm not blaming you for your decisions." Gibbs approached the chair recently occupied by Tony and sat down. He leaned back, the paper crunching under his weight, adding more wrinkles. "But you're going to have to ride out the consequences, deal with some very upset people."

"Including you?" she asked quietly.

Gibbs ran a hand down the length of his face, bowing his head. "I almost lost another daughter, Ziva. When I found you, Mishnev was standing over you, about ready to shoot you in the head." Neither flinched at Gibbs' bluntness. "It's going to take some time to erase that image." Then Gibbs reached forward, grasping Ziva's hand with his own callused one. Surprised, Ziva turned to find Gibbs staring at her. "But, I'm not the one you need to worry about."

"Tony."

"He's lost you a couple of times, now." Images of when the team was disbanded after Jenny, when she stayed in Israel after Rivkin, and the tarmac flooded her mind in an unforgiving collage. "And, all of those times, you were physically ok. There was at least a chance of talking to you or seeing you again." Gibbs also recalled Somalia, how devastated Tony was when he thought she was dead, but decided not to push with that memory. He continued, "But, this time he actually watched you die. Usually that's permanent, Ziva."

Gibbs noted the sheen in Ziva's eyes. He knew of the inner turmoil she was feeling. Hell, he's felt it himself more times than he cared to count.

"You two have done more for and to each other in nine years than most married couples do in a lifetime." Gibbs inhaled deeply, hesitating as if contemplating something. This was a side of Gibbs very few witnessed, and Ziva wasn't sure in which direction he was taking the conversation. "And I know some of it was partially my fault," he finished.

She studied him. "Rule twelve," Ziva muttered.

"Yeah," Gibbs grinned regretfully. A silence hung over them. "But, then there's Rule fifty-one."

Ziva considered and retorted, "Rule six. Perhaps this is the path that was meant for us. Destiny?"

Gibbs stared at the wall in consideration. After a few moments, he pursed his lips and tilted his head before returning his gaze to Ziva, giving her a half smile. He rose from the chair and bent over Ziva, whispering in her ear, "Think you two have fought enough for each other. Time to start fighting with each other. I'm thankful that you're ok kid. I love you." Then he turned his head ever so slightly, placing a fatherly kiss on her temple. Ziva could not control the rare tears that slipped down her cheeks.

"Todah, Abba." Ziva clumsily wrapped her uninjured arm around Gibbs' neck, overcome with emotion. "And I love you."

A knock on the door announced the doctor's presence and Ziva stiffened. "Ah. Miss David. It is good to see you alert. Agent DiNozzo alerted the nurse's station that you were awake." Two nurses filed in seconds later. Gibbs stood off to the side, noting that Ziva never broke eye contact with him. He realized that she wanted someone that she knew to stay with her. The doctor and nurses went to work, checking her vitals, inspecting her injuries, asking her questions, and changing out her bandages and IV bags.

When they were finished, Gibbs spoke up, "So, when will she be released, Doc?" The doctor knew this entire team was anxious to return state side.

"I believe she is stable enough to travel. I'll draw up her release papers and have her out of here this afternoon. However, Miss David should have continued constant medical care for at least another week."

The nurses left the room, and Gibbs and the doctor sauntered toward the door. "Not a problem. Just have her files forwarded to our ME, Dr. Mallard. We'll take it from there." The two men shook hands and exited the room as a breathless DiNozzo rounded the corner in the hallway, coming from the direction of the elevators.

"Sorry, Boss," Tony gasped. "Was trying to get back here as quickly as possible." Just then, the door leading to the stairs burst open, and a breathless McGee stumbled forward, doubled-over. He glared at Tony from down the hallway.

Gibbs gave his half smirk, glad to see some normalcy returning to his team with their hijinks. "McGee!" Gibbs snapped. "You're with me. We're leaving tonight. I want a flight secured," Gibbs called down the hallway. McGee closed his eyes and tilted his head back.

"Yes, Boss. Back down the stairs. On it Boss."

"McGee?" Gibbs pointed to the bank of elevators, walking over and pushing a button.

"Thank you, Boss," McGee said, catching his breath as he joined Gibbs.

Tony, still standing in the hallway, asked, "What can I do, Boss?"

Gibbs gave Tony a stern look and pointed to Ziva's door as the elevator doors slid shut.

Tony closed his eyes and leaned against the hallway wall with a heavy sigh. Once again they had been on the right track. She had been ready to come home soon. And then all hell had broken loose. He wasn't proud about how he handled himself earlier when she awoke. He hoped she could understand his feelings and where he was coming from, just as she was asking everyone else to do the same. He turned the door handle and found Ziva in a seated position with her head tilted back, her mouth hanging open, and loud snoring originating from somewhere deep within. The talk was going to have to wait.