McGee pulled over in front of the cemetery, his eyes drawn to the two still figures on the ground. The dog wasn't moving, and the knife plunged into its heart told him that he was already too late to save him. He prayed the same wasn't true for Ziva. He recognized the knife as one of hers. He didn't know how many she actually owned, but he guessed quite a few. He could hear Ziva's strangled cries for help from behind him.

He rushed to her side, helping her hold her throat. He didn't want to squeeze to tightly and choke the life out of her, but he had so stem the bleeding. She was coated in so much blood, both hers and Jethro's, that it was hard to tell where it was coming from. He eventually noticed that her mangled wrist was another source of the seemingly endless amount of it. He ripped his shirt off, wrapping it around her bleeding hand. Hearing her whimper in pain as he tied the shirt tighter, he pulled her against him, "Come on, Ziva? Can you hear me?"

She groaned a bit, nodding bleakly. She tried to speak, but found it nearly impossible to do so. Instead, she signed to McGee something she'd picked up from watching Gibbs, "What took you so long?"

McGee somehow found the courage to chuckle, "Sorry. I called paramedics from the car, when I saw you on the ground. They're coming." he took off his jacket, already ruined from the deep blood stains, and wrapped it around her. She was so much smaller than he was, he was able to wrap it around her slender form twice, "That should help keep you warm, at least for now. You're tough, you know that?" McGee rocked her in his arms, knowing this may be his last chance to say goodbye, "I always knew you'd fight to the last, Ziva." he tried not to let himself think like that; she wasn't dead yet. But there was so much blood... "Just hang on another minute, after that you can sleep." he kept poking and prodding her, trying to keep her awake.

Sirens blared as the ambulance pulled up to the curb beside them. The medics got out and came over quickly to assess the situation, "Any idea what happened here?" one of them asked

McGee looked over at the carnage, "I don't know," he told them honestly, "My guess is, the dog attacked her, and she killed it in self-defense." Ziva nodded, confirming his story, "Yeah, she said the dog was acting weird, and called for me to pick them up. I showed up a minute or two later, and found this."

The paramedics carefully took her from his arms, "We'll get her to Portsmouth; its closest. By the looks of it, she might not even make it that far."

"Damned if we're not gonna try though!" his partner strapped her to the gurney, "You coming with?"

Abby peered nervously into Autopsy, not really wanting to believe the reality in front of her. She stood quietly in the shadows for a moment until Ducky noticed her standing there and called her in, "Its alright, dear. You may come in, I'm nearly finished now."

She didn't know if she could bear to look. They'd lost so much in the past few years; Kate, Jenny, and now...poor thing. She resisted the urge to break down, seeing her beloved pet on the table as Ducky stitched him back up. "Oh, my God! What happened to him, Ducky?" her voice was barely above a whisper

"Abby, its alright to cry," he went to go wash up quickly before wrapping his arms around her, "I can't say for sure what caused him to behave like that, until I get the results back from some biopsies, we won't know for sure. What I can tell you is this," he picked up Ziva's knife, which he'd pulled from the dog's chest, "The knife went between his ribs, through his aorta, and into his left ventricle. His death was instantaneous and painless, dear. He didn't even feel it."

Abby sniffled, relieved that he didn't suffer, "I knew it. Ziva wouldn't do that, she's not that cruel; she made him go quick." if only Jethro was as merciful with her; the last she'd heard, Ziva was in surgery being treated for the deep wounds where the dog had torn into her throat

"There there, dear," he rocked her gently, "Any word from the hospital?"

"McGee says she's still in surgery," she sighed, "What's taking so long? Its been hours, why haven't they fixed it yet?"

"Well, why don't we go find out? I'll put Jethro away to rest. He's tired of talking. You don't need to stay with him dear, he'll be fine until we return." after Jethro was brought in, Abby refused to leave the dog's side until she knew the truth, "I'll just grab my coat, and we'll go and see how she's doing."

Tony and McGee lay sleeping in the deep bucket seats in the waiting room. Ziva had been in surgery for nearly ten hours already. Gibbs was the only one still awake; it was surmised that Gibbs no longer needed to sleep, due to the amount of caffeine coursing through his veins. Even though he hadn't touched a cup since arriving at the hospital, the amount of caffeine stored up in his system would probably last a while.

Gibbs found himself engulfed in a tight hug as Abby ran up to him, "Hey, Abbs. How ya holding up?"

"Okay." considering the circumstances, she wasn't doing too bad, "How's she doing?"

"Still in surgery," Gibbs told her quietly, not wanting to wake the others, "The doctor said they're taking care of her neck first. Once she rest a bit, and her vitals look good, they'll take her back and fix her wrist."

Ducky took a seat beside him, "That's probably wise. Considering how much blood she's lost, its best to give her a bit of a break in between." he glanced over at McGee, fighting hard to suppress a grin. His blood soaked clothes had been swapped for a pair of scrubs; they were hot pink, and at least two sizes too small, revealing a bit too much of his pale midriff, "Oh, poor Timothy. I bet our Anthony has been just merciless to him."

"Not as much as you'd think, Duck," Gibbs laughed. The ambiance in the room was a bit too somber for pranks and jeers.

A nurse came down from the back hallway, "Miss David's family?" she called

Abby ran over to the boys, shaking them awake, "Come on! Tony, Timmy, get up!" she tipped their seats, not an easy feat considering they each weighed about fifty pounds more than her. Even spilled from their seats, they slept on, "Lazy little..." she slapped the backs of their heads, waking them instantly

"I'm up!" Tony reported, looking around the room, "What's going on?"

AN: Mwahaha! I know, evil. Guilty as charged. Review please (no death threats!)?