Disclaimer: She-in-pink-scrubs is still breathing; I think you can figure it out ;) Oh, and the title of my fic All These Things That I've Done was inspired by The Killers song of the same name. However, the lyrics of the song have no ties to this fic, I just borrowed the name.
A/N I'm slightly worried about characterisation is this chapter, especially Abby. I don't think I did a good job of writing her, but you'll have to make do. Plus I apologise in advance for the dodgy medical scene. I am a student who has no talent for science and no aspirations to be a doctor. My medical knowledge is curtesy of ER, Grey's Anatomy and All Saints.
"It only seems as if you are doing something when you're worrying." Lucy Maud Montgomery
Chapter Three: She's Okay, Right?
"DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered as he, Tony and McGee walked into the bullpen, "I want you to find out everything you can about Petty Officer Cays. Where she was born, where she previously worked, who she associates with, hell, I want to know where she shops and what her favourite colour is."
"On it, boss."
"McGee." Gibbs turned to his other agent. "I want a BOLO out on her car. It wasn't in the drive so it's either where she left it or our killer took it."
"Wouldn't we have heard a car leave?" McGee questioned, sitting at his desk. "I mean, it wasn't exactly the Super Bowl."
"Do we even know if the murder and Ziva's attack are linked?" Tony asked thoughtfully. "It would be pretty stupid to stay at the scene of the crime, even the petty crims know that."
"So we assume we're looking for two suspects?" McGee questioned.
"Never assume anything, McGee," Gibbs replied, booting up his computer.
"What rule is that?" McGee asked Tony softly.
"Err . . . is it even a rule?"
"Rule three?"
"No, that's . . . um . . . something about double checking and not believing what you're told . . . or something like that," Tony replied, puzzled. "Well, we know it's definitely not rule twelve, we all know what rule twelve is. Maybe –"
"Maybe you should start doing your job, DiNozzo, and try and find the idiot who attacked your partner," Gibbs said, standing up and whacking both McGee and Tony on the back of their heads. "I'm going to see Abby. I want a full autobiography on our Petty Officer by the time I get back."
"Yes, boss," both agents replied simultaneously.
"Gibbs," Abby said happily as the door opened and Gibbs stepped into the Forensics lab, "whatcha got for me?"
"Nothing yet, Abs," Gibbs replied, "although, hopefully Palmer has finished the autopsy on our dead Petty Officer."
"Palmer? What's Ducky doing?"
"He's with Ziva?"
"Why is he with Ziva?"
"Didn't McGee call you and tell you about Ziva?"
"No. Tell me what about Ziva?" Abby's voice suddenly got a pitch louder. "Gibbs!"
"She was attacked, Abs."
"Attacked? What?"
"Someone hit her over the head. McGee found her unconscious in the garden shed."
"What? No! You're joking, right Gibbs? I mean its Ziva. Ziva's got crazy ninja skills. She wouldn't let some idiot get the better of her."
"No joke, Abby. She's at the hospital with Ducky."
"She's okay, right?" Gibbs was worried that Abby was getting slightly hysterical.
"I don't know. We haven't heard anything."
"But she'll be okay, right? Please tell me she's gonna be okay!"
"I can't tell you that, I don't know myself."
"I wanna go down there."
"Abs . . . "
"No, Gibbs. I want to go and see her."
"I need you here, Abs."
"Why? You said we didn't have any evidence yet."
"It should be processed soon. Then I need my best forensic scientist to find something that will give us lead on who attacked Ziva and who killed Petty Officer Cays."
"But . . ."
"Abby, we need you here. Ziva's strong, she'll pull through."
"You don't know that, Gibbs. What . . . what about Kate. We all thought she was strong . . . but she died."
"Different situation, Abs."
"I don't want her to die, Gibbs." Abby moved towards Gibbs and he embraced her tightly.
"I don't want her to die either, Abs," he said softly to himself.
Back at the hospital, Ducky had taken to pacing nervously. Every so often, he would stop and check the time, hoping that it was going quicker. Finally the doors opened and a young doctor walked over to where Ducky had stopped at a stand still.
"Dr Mallard?" The male doctor questioned. Ducky nodded and the doctor gave him a small smile. "I'm Dr Bartholomew Winchester-Diggins and I've been looking after your agent."
"It's officer, actually," Ducky amened.
"Okay. Officer David . . ." he said, pronouncing David like any American would.
"Da-veed," Ducky corrected, "not David. It's Jewish."
"Okay, so Agent David," he tried again, this time pronouncing Ziva's name correctly, but giving her the wrong title.
"It's Officer David," Ducky sighed, noting the young doctor's flustered appearance.
"Does it really matter?" Dr Winchester-Diggins snapped irritably. "Look Officer Da-veed sustained some brain injury caused by a blow to front of her head . . ."
Ducky was getting frustrated. He already knew that, it was obvious. Dr Winchester-Diggins must have seen his frustration so he hurried along.
"We performed some tests, including a CAT scan," Dr Winchester-Diggins started. "It is clear that Officer David has some form of brain injury, but we won't know the full extent until she's woken up. She's being moved up to the Intensive Care Unit where she'll be carefully monitored. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but currently Officer David is comatose and we are not sure when she'll wake."
"But you believe that she will wake up?" Ducky asked worriedly.
"I'd say there is a pretty good chance," Dr Winchester-Diggins assured Ducky, "but we won't know if there is any permanent brain damage until she wakes up."
Ducky sank into the nearby seat. He buried his face in his hands and sighed. Now he had the fun task of informing Gibbs and his team.
"Thank you, Dr Winchester-Diggins." Ducky looked at the doctor who was gazing at him sympathetically.
"No problem," he replied. "Would you like to go and see her? I can get a nurse to take you?"
"No, but thank you," Ducky thanked the man. "I really must call her boss and let him know."
"I understand, but when you're done, you can ask a nurse and she'll escort you to Officer David's room."
"Thank you," Ducky said again and pulled out his cell phone.
"Err . . . no cells in the hospital."
Ducky looked at Dr Winchester-Diggins with a 'you've gotta be kidding' expression.
"I know that," Ducky snapped, his worry for Ziva finally coming through his voice. "I'm going to go outside, what do you take me for?"
"Dr Mallard . . ."
"I'm sorry, Doctor," Ducky said, apologising for his outburst. "I'm just worried about Ziva."
"That's understandable. I'll leave you to it." Dr Winchester-Diggins walked off and Ducky proceeded to exit the hospital.
"Ducky," Gibbs said, picking up the cell phone after two rings, "how is she?"
Gibbs heard Ducky sigh on the other end. "Not good, Jethro. She's in a coma . . ."
"Coma? You sure about that, Duck."
"Well, Dr Bartholomew Winchester-Diggins believes so."
"You're one hundred percent certain then? You sure you trust a doctor named after a yellow, four-fingered cartoon."
"I believe he knows what he's talking about, Jethro," Ducky replied. "It would be quite common after receiving head trauma like our Ziva did."
Gibbs sighed. "Do you know when she's gonna wake up?"
"The doctor's aren't sure."
"Do they even think she gonna wake up?"
"Oh, yes, Jethro. They do believe Ziva will be joining us once again, but they don't know what kind of damage this blow has done."
"So she might have permanent brain damage?" Gibbs didn't even want to think about it.
"Quite possibly. I'm sorry, Jethro."
"Never apologise, Duck, it's a sign of weakness."
"You're going to have to tell the team."
"I know. I'll get on to it."
"Good." Ducky nodded approvingly, even though Gibbs couldn't see through the phone. "Is Mr Palmer done with the autopsy?"
"I'm not sure, I'll find out afterwards."
"I'll be up with Ziva in ICU if anyone is going to come down."
"Got it, Duck . . . and Ducky."
Yes, Jethro."
"Don't let her die."
"I won't, Jethro. I won't.
"McGee," Gibbs said after severing the line with Ducky. "Call Abby and get her up here."
"Yes, boss." McGee picked up his phone.
"Tony." Gibbs turned to his senior field agent. "Um . . . get Palmer up here too. He's pretty much part of the team now."
"You've got it, boss. Was that Ducky on the phone? How's Ziva?"
"Just do it, DiNozzo."
A minute later, Abby came flying into the bullpen.
"Is it Ziva? Is she okay? She's alive, right? Please don't tell me she's dead. She can't be dead."
"She's dead?" Palmer joined the group. "Officer David . . . she's . . . not . . . she can't be."
"She's not dead," Gibbs said bluntly. "At least she isn't until I get my hands on her."
"So she's okay then?" Tony asked.
"I never said that." Gibbs replied, a little softer.
"But she's gonna be okay, right?" McGee looked at Gibbs, wanting reassurance. The others followed, all looking at Gibbs for reassurance on their only female agent.
"Ducky," Gibbs started, "informs me that Ziva is in a coma."
"Coma!"
"You serious, boss?"
"No . . ."
"Joke. Right, boss?"
"Not a joke, DiNozzo." Gibbs looked at the shocked faces of his team.
"She's gonna wake up, right?" Abby asked tearfully, looking about ready to cry.
"The doctors think so," Gibbs said, "but they're not sure when . . . or what kinda of lasting effect there will be."
"So Ziva could have . . . oh, god." Tony lowered himself into the closest chair, just in case his legs decided not to support him.
"Ziva can't have brain damage. She just can't." Abby turned around and buried her face in McGee's shirt, silent tears running down her cheeks.
"This had not been a good day," Palmer observed sadly.
"Ya think?"