Chapter 16

He struggled. He struggled really hard to keep from drowning.

The downward suction of this whirlpool was simply too strong for him and his strength was waning fast. Swirling around and around. The speed of the vortex was making his head spin, his stomach churn, stretch his flailing limbs to their most painful limits, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about it.

His brain yelled for this torture to stop!

His ears were ringing. A high-pitched buzzing was needling its way into the deepest recesses of his brain.

No more. Please God, no more!

He felt like his lungs were about to burst. Then, no longer able to hold it, all air was squeezed out from of his lungs by the weight of the all enveloping pressure. He couldn't breathe. Still, he had to inhale. He was no fish. He was no selkie. He wasn't made to live under the sea. Oh, he could be green around the gills or so his friends made him believe, but he was most definitely not an aquatic creature.

He was losing the fight and his pumping, frantically beating heart was at its limits as his life was literally sucked out of him.

A scream forced its way out from his gulping mouth and in horrific fascination he watched the air bubbles – his bubbles...his very life… float upwards toward the rays of light breaking the surface as he sank deeper in the great blue. A strange phenomenon, given he was in a centrifugal funnel on his one way trip to the bottom of the ocean and eternal darkness.

It was the most amazing thing, this ability to scream under water when his life force was draining...quite literally...down the drain.

This surrounding darkness was scaring him witless and he screamed in time with his wildly beating heart.

Not yet giving up fighting for his life, he thrashed about him and kicked and screamed as he now felt an ever increasing number of tentacles pulling at him, his legs, his arms... There was no escape and yet he couldn't resign himself to his fate.

"Tim!"

What was that? Through the roaring and buzzing, somebody seemed to be calling his name.

"Tim!" The calling became more urgent and was accompanied by a loud chorus of accelerating beeps.

And then, suddenly, he was pulled from the tunnel and out into the open...air!

He blinked furiously at the anxious faces looming over him and he was still struggling to get his breathing under control. He was sure the wild thudding of his heart could be heard above his labored panting.

A mask was placed on his face and he tried to move his hand to swat it away. His movements were sluggish and as awareness slowly returned, he tried to take stock of his surroundings.

The beeping he'd heard had slowed down and he vaguely realized it was his own heart monitor that had been responsible for this disturbance.

Somebody held onto his wrists and somehow, he couldn't move his legs, either. This brought along another panic attack and again he made a desperate attempt to wriggle from this hold, arching his back off the bed, his muscles taut and straining.

"Watch his leg!"

Too late for that: he'd been tensing up so badly as he fought to get free. Acute pain flared through his injured leg which brought tears to his eyes and had him suck in deep breaths and release them again in a hiss through his dilated nostrils and clenched mouth. He scrunched his eyes shut as if by doing this, he'd be able to shut out the pain. Make it go away.

"Shh...Tim. It's alright. Shh...It's okay. You're safe." A female voice, with a faint trace of fear, tried to soothe him. He recognized this voice, as he also knew he could trust the owner of this voice. He stopped resisting the hands holding him down.

"Everything is under control again. You can slowly, slooowly...release him. He's calmed down sufficiently.." Another voice, this one. A matter-of-fact type of ring to it. A medical person, his otherwise confused brain was still able to register.

As the pain slowly ebbed to a dull throbbing, he tentatively opened his eyes.

The ringing was as good as non-existent, now, and he slowly relaxed his rigid muscles, his breathing still coming out in pants.

He felt the vice-hold on his ankles drop away, as were the hands holding onto his wrists, one of which was gingerly placed on his brow, then stroking his feverishly hot cheek. And again. As if hushing a frightened child.

Tim's eyes, which had been large as saucers with abject fear during this episode, flicked from face to face, before fluttering closed again. Feeling drained, his head still spinning and throbbing, it came as a relief to feel himself drift away. No more struggling. Just peaceful abandonment.

- -.-. -. . .

A small sigh had Ziva instantly alert and leaning over her friend, her eyes peering worriedly into his face trying to gauge how he was doing.

"McGee? Tim?"

She bent closer and rested her hand on his face, feathery stroking his brow with her thumb, encouraging him to wake up in his own time.

"Mmmm..." He moaned softly. It was more a sound of repose.

He knew he was still stuck in a hospital bed, but he sure felt better. Whether it was because of the drugs that were still dripping into his bloodstream or simply because his body had reached that point where it had finally relaxed enough to allow the healing, he had no idea.

"Zeeeee..." He exhaled... A zephyr.

"Hey, Tim." Ziva smiled and she pulled the chair closer to the bed. Closer to him. Close enough she could still feel the heat radiating from him. Still running a fever, then.

She kept stroking him. The delicacy of the movement told more than words could ever tell and he basked in her loving touch. The sweet scent of her perfume wafted towards him and he thought it a thankful replacement for the antiseptic hospital smell.

He cracked his eyes open and looked up at her face in wonderment, the green irises luminescent with a different kind of fever. But then, the gleam dulled as he took in her gaunt appearance.

"You look done, Zee." He chided her in a whisper.

"I'm fine, Tim. And you will be fine as well." A single tear appeared in the corner of her eye and Tim lifted his hand to wipe it away.

"Why are you crying?"

His voice was still hoarse, only this time, not only from the abuse his body had suffered.

She didn't answer. How could she? After they'd come so close to losing him?

Ziva let his hand touch her face with the slightest of tremors. Then, it limply slid down as if he lacked the strength to hold it up any longer. His fingers brushed her neck and continued their trail down...until they reached her breast, sending an electric current coursing through her body. She involuntarily sucked in a breath and her hand intercepted his, holding it flat across her heart. It fluttered like the hundreds of butterflies trapped in her belly.

Green eyes met brown eyes and they locked. No words were uttered. None were needed. The beating of their hearts was testimony enough of the true feelings they shared.

Ziva brought his hand to her mouth and kissed his slender fingers. Again, she reflected how she'd come that close to losing him. Again, that scene in the raft took full possession of her mind and the image of him lying lifeless in the life raft, pressed itself to her notice - soaked through and deathly pale, his wet hair plastered on his forehead...

And Tim was lost in his own memories as his eyes vacantly stared in hers. Drowning in them. Drowning... He mentally kicked himself. Don't go there, Tim. Her eyes. First time he'd caught her undressing him with those burnt umber eyes. He smiled inwardly. Not that he hadn't done the same. And it hadn't stopped there. Oh no. Right before he had that whopping migraine attack, they'd made out in her apartment. It wasn't the first time, nor was it going to be the last time. It nearly was, though. Again he shook these disturbing thoughts off and deliberately pulled his mind back to that night. Sweltering hot and not only weather wise.

They were so mesmerized they didn't notice Gibbs as he stood in the entrance, not daring to intrude. He silently retreated. He would come back later. He'd seen his agent and he was pleased to see the younger man was doing better – a lot better, considering – and that was all he needed to know for the time being.

Inside the hospital room, the spell was broken as the monitor beside Tim's bed emitted a heart rate picking up an alarming speed and, brutally jolted back to the presence; he glared at it in irritation.

"Can't they just switch the damn thing off?"

She smoothed the frown which had appeared on his forehead and laughed, letting his hand carefully down on the covers.

He let out a shaky laugh himself. If he were to be honest with himself, he'd have to admit his heart wasn't yet ready for too much excitement.

Tim swallowed and his hand reached out for Ziva. She snuggled close, letting him draw her face to his, their lips touching.

She held his hand and slipped the other under the sheets, laying it across his chest, drawing another accented beep from the monitor.

Tim's eyes sought hers and vice versa, as Ziva found herself drowning in his green pools. Her hand lovingly rubbed his chest and abdomen, taking care not to disturb the electrodes adhered to his skin. She then let her hand rest on his chest where she registered his, now, regular heartbeat. She moved still closer, letting go of his hand to curve her arm on the bed near his pillow, and resting her head in the crook of her arm. He slowly turned his head to look at her, his eyes holding an intent she had rarely seen before. Soon, though, his eyes drooped and eventually closed altogether. Her eyes fell shut, too, only to concentrate on the beating of his heart she felt under her right hand and the warm whiffs of his breath caressing her face.

The two of them seemed locked into a time slot. To them, time had come to a complete stand-still.

That's how the nurse on duty found them as she stepped into the room to check on her patient. The beeping had returned to its more sedate rhythm. She smiled and switched it off.