Chapter Eight
Slower, slower
We don't have time for that
All I want is to find and easier way
To get out of our little heads
Ziva stood in her daughter's room, the doctors were trying to stall Shai's vomiting now and they were gradually taking Rhia out of her coma. Since Tony and Gibbs had returned with the antidote they were preparing the children while Ducky and Abby were helping to test it against the children's blood samples. She stood stroking her daughter's cheek, waiting for her dark haired daughter to open her beautiful eyes again.
"You need to wake up, Rhia," she whispered in a small voice. "Your daddy is coming to see you, and he will be here soon."
"Daddy's here now."
She turned from where Rhia was laying to see Tony standing there in the doorway to the private room. She sighed with an overwhelming relief and rushed over to him, hugging him tightly. "Tony," she whispered. "You were so long, I thought something had happened-"
"I'm ok," he assured her. "The kids?"
"They are starting to bring Rhia out of her coma," she nodded.
"Right, that's good?"
"They want her to be awake when they administer the antidote, so, yes."
"And Shai?" he asked.
"They attempted to get him to eat something after you left, but his vomiting started again after and he has not stopped since," she told him. "You have been gone for hours, where have you been?"
"In the lab," he told her. "I didn't want to come down here without any news, so I waited until they'd tested the antidote."
"And it has worked?" she asked, her eyes suddenly desperate. "Please, tell me it will work..."
"They tested it against the kids' blood samples from when they were bought in, and it worked."
"It worked," she repeated.
Tony nodded. "They're just working out how much they need to give to each of them. It shouldn't take longer than half an hour."
Ziva leaned forwards, resting her head on his shoulder. "That sounds like a very long time."
"Half an hour," he repeated, "and then there's only improvements."
She sighed, relief beginning to catch up with her. "Tony...who did this to them?" she asked.
"It doesn't matter," he mumbled.
"It does, and you know that."
"It shouldn't matter anymore," he repeated. "He's dead."
She lifted her head from his shoulder, staring at him. "What did you do?" she asked him softly.
"He poisoned our kids, Ziva, what do you think I did?" he said darkly.
"You shot him," she realised.
"He deserved worse," he confirmed.
"Gibbs let you?"
Tony nodded. "He'd have done it himself if I hadn't."
Ziva was quiet for a moment. "If you are not going to tell me who did this, will you at least tell me why?" she asked him.
"He wasn't targeting them," he revealed.
"Us?" she asked.
"Me," he confirmed.
Ziva nodded. "Someone that you know, or just someone that you angered?"
"Both," he whispered.
"An old friend?" she sensed.
He shook his head. "Old family."
She frowned. "Tony..."
He moved over to where his daughter was lying, having noticed that her arm had moved, a signal that she was slowly becoming more active. He reached down into the crib and held her tiny hand, causing her to calm again. Ziva came to stand beside him, and placed her hand over the one of his that lay on the railing. "It was my father," he whispered, betrayal seeping into his voice.
"Oh, Tony..."
"It's ok," he shrugged off. "He can't hurt them anymore."
"Why was he targeting you?" she asked. "Why would he want to hurt you like that?"
"Like you said, he was someone I pissed off."
"Stop it," she told him quietly, though her voice was stern.
"Stop what?"
"Stop pretending that it does not matter."
"It doesn't," he insisted.
"Do not lie to me, Tony."
"I'm not lying," he said. "Why he was targeting me doesn't matter. Not to me. What matters to me is that his plan messed up and our kids got hurt instead."
"You can still tell me," she assured him.
He sighed, bowing his head so that he was focusing more on his daughter. "I know," he surrendered, and she said nothing as she waited for him to continue, knowing that he would. "Nicholas and Andrea," he whispered. "They died in a car crash when I was ten."
She nodded. "I remember."
"My mom committed suicide not long after, said she couldn't live knowing that she failed them. My father blamed me because she could have saved the both of them in the time it took to get me out of the car. They were unconscious, perfectly fine, maybe some broken bones, but I was trapped under the front seat. She managed to get me out of there and then the car blew up. They died, my mother couldn't live with losing two of her children and she just lost the will to live. My father blamed me for killing all three of them."
"Tony, look at me," Ziva whispered. This time, he listened to her. "You are twice the man, and ten times the father, that he ever was."
"Am I really, though?" he asked doubtfully.
"Shai and Rhia love you," she reminded him. "Look at Shai, he will do anything to make you proud."
"He makes me proud with everything he does," he murmured.
Ziva smiled softly. "That is why you are a better father."
They arrived in Shai's room just as he was being administered the antidote through an IV drip. Abby ran over to Tony, hugging him tightly. "I knew you'd do it!" she squealed.
"I had to," he nodded, hugging her back.
She pulled back and kissed him on the cheek. "You're a great dad, Tony, don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."
He smiled. "Thanks, Abs."
They approached Shai's bedside, focusing on the doctor who turned to them. "This may bring back the vomiting again," he told them. "But it will just be his body getting rid of the last of the toxin in his body, so there will be no need to worry."
"Ok," Ziva nodded.
"How long will it take to work?" Tony asked.
"We don't know yet, but we have high hopes this could be over this time tomorrow as long as the night goes smoothly. We're about to administer the antidote to Rhia, and one of you may want to be with her while we do that. Until she regains consciousness, however, your priority should remain with Shai."
They nodded, and whispered among each other for a moment. Ziva placed a kiss on her son's head and went to be with Rhia. Tony remained with Shai, sitting down on the bed directly beside him and wrapping his arm around the boy, rubbing his back. He was already gagging again, his body preparing him for the onslaught of vomiting that was soon to follow. "Dad?" he asked, looking down at the man who sat beside him.
"Ok, bud. It's ok, I'm here," he murmured, kissing his forehead. "You're going to get better now, I promise."
Shai whined loudly. "Don't wanna be sick no more."
"Don't be scared," Tony told him. "Don't fight it, ok? I know you hate being sick but we're going to do this together. I'm going to stay with you the whole time."
"'Kay," Shai whispered, leaning against his father as he started to fall asleep.
The doctor disapproved stepping in. "Shai, you need to stay awake."
"Sleepy," he mumbled, moving closer to his father.
Tony stepped in, following the orders from the doctor. "Shai, talk to me."
"Dad?"
"That's right, keep talking to me, Shai. You've got to stay awake for a while," he told him.
"Ok," he mumbled.
"What shall we do when we get out of this hospital?" he asked, trying to keep the boy talking. "How about we take a nice vacation somewhere?"
"Yeah," Shai nodded.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked.
Shai looked up at him, and Tony noticed that he was actually gaining colour in his cheeks, rather than looking pale. Perhaps his vomiting wasn't going to happen yet. "I get to pick?" he asked tiredly.
"Anywhere in the world," he nodded.
"The whole entire world?" Shai asked in wonder.
"Anywhere," Tony repeated.
"Disneyland," he decided instantly.
Tony smiled. "Ok, we'll go to Disneyland. We'll take Rhia to see the real princesses, yeah?"
"Can I get a pirate sword?" he asked.
"Sure thing," he nodded. "And you'll have to get a pirate hat to go with it, because it every pirate needs a hat."
"And an eye patch," Shai added.
"Good idea," he praised. "You think they'll have a hat to fit me as well?" he asked.
"No, pirates don't have dads," Shai told him, as if he were being silly and he had explained this a thousand times already.
"Oh," he said, feigning disappointment. "No hat for me then."
"You can be my first mate," Shai told him. "Then you get a hat."
"Captain Shai and First Mate Tony," he said dramatically. "Sounds like a good adventure to me, little guy."
Shai frowned. "No, you gotta be First Mate Dad," he told him.
"Why's that?" he asked.
"Because that's who you are," Shai said.
Tony smiled, kissing the top of his son's head and ignoring the fact that his curls were completely sweat-glistened from his fever and in desperate need of a wash. "I am so, SO, proud of you, Shai. You're being so brave," he told him.
"Momma said you would be," he whispered.
Tony looked up, smiling at Ziva, who was now standing in the doorway with Abby and listening to every word of their conversation. "That's because your momma's always right," Tony told his son.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"You gotta write that down and show it to her," Shai said.
"Why's that?"
"She'll never believe you if you don't show it to her."
Tony laughed softly, as did two women in the doorway. They stood, listening to all the adventures that the father and son were planning about pirates and tree-houses and invading pirate islands. "Tony's amazing with him," Abby admired.
"This is nothing," Ziva shook her head. "Do you remember when Shai and I first came back, when his immune system was bad and he caught the cold after Tony and I married?" she asked.
Abby nodded. "Oh yeah, I remember that cold," she mused. "No one got any sleep that fortnight."
"Tony used to pace the halls with him in the middle of the night, insisting that I needed to sleep and that he had six months of missed time with his son to make up for," Ziva revealed. "He would walk with him and talk to him until he had gone back to sleep, and he would not even get stressed when he had to go to work early either. He never once complained about getting up in the night or having to put the children first. He is an amazing father," she agreed. "He would do anything for his children."
"He'd do anything for you, too," Abby reminded her.
Smiling, Ziva leaned against the doorway, resting her weight against the frame. "Yes, he would."