Exhaustion washed over Tony like a wave, pulling him down into a deep sleep beside Ziva's hospital bed. With his upper body resting on the cool sheets, he instinctively grasped her hand, holding it tightly as if anchoring himself to her. The steady beeping of the heart monitor faded into the background, and the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest became a soothing lullaby, lulling him into a fragile dream.
Moments later, a nurse entered the room, clipboard in hand. She was a bit older, her hair graying at the temples but her eyes bright with warmth. As she moved quietly to check on Ziva's vitals, she couldn't help but notice the scene before her. Tony, deeply asleep and holding Ziva's hand with a gentle yet firm grip, radiated a sense of tender devotion that warmed her heart.
The nurse paused, a small smile spreading across her face as she observed the young agent's protective posture. She had seen many families in this hospital, and the bond between Tony and Ziva was unmistakable. There was something about the way he held her hand, as if he was willing his strength into her, that spoke volumes. "Young love," she mused softly to herself, shaking her head with an affectionate chuckle.
She moved closer, checking Ziva's pulse and ensuring her IV drip was functioning properly. The sight of Tony's worry etched into his features tugged at her heartstrings, reminding her of the unyielding connections that formed during difficult times. She appreciated the moments of genuine care and affection that were often lost in the hustle of hospital life.
As the nurse adjusted Ziva's blanket, she couldn't resist glancing back at Tony. His face was relaxed now, the tension of the day seemingly dissipated in sleep, yet he still held onto Ziva's hand as if it was the only thing keeping him grounded. The nurse decided to let them have this moment, knowing that the world outside could wait.
After a few minutes, she quietly left the room, her heart a little lighter from witnessing such an intimate display of love and loyalty. She hoped that Ziva would wake up soon, if only to see the depth of Tony's feelings for her reflected in the tender way he cared for her, even in her unconscious state.
Ziva stirred, slowly drifting from the deep, sedated darkness toward a foggy awareness. At first, everything felt distant—her thoughts sluggish, her body heavy. There was a dull ache in her abdomen, though it seemed to pulse through her entire being. She tried to focus on her breathing, taking in slow, shallow breaths as the beeping of the heart monitor ticked steadily by her side. Her eyelids fluttered, feeling too heavy to lift, but the discomfort in her body was pulling her further into consciousness.
As her mind began to clear, Ziva became aware of something warm against her hand. Confused, she tried to move her fingers but found that they were intertwined with something—no, someone. With effort, she cracked her eyes open, the sterile white of the hospital room coming into view. Her gaze traveled down to her hand, where she saw Tony, his head resting on the bed, his fingers wrapped gently around hers. He was still asleep, his breathing steady, his face softened by exhaustion.
"Tony…" she whispered, her voice cracked and weak. Her throat felt raw, as if she hadn't spoken in days. But Tony didn't stir. She blinked, trying to process the scene before her—Tony, asleep at her side, holding her hand like she was his lifeline.
A wave of emotion washed over her as the memories came back in flashes. The gunfight. The pain. Tony lifting her into his arms. The fear in his eyes.
Her heart squeezed, and before she could stop herself, she gently stroked his hair with her free hand, the motion instinctive, tender. "Tony," she whispered again, her voice barely louder than before, but there was more urgency in it this time.
He stirred at her touch, a slight frown appearing on his face before his eyes blinked open slowly. He looked groggy, disoriented for a moment, before his gaze snapped to Ziva. His eyes widened as he sat up quickly, his hand tightening around hers.
"Ziva," he breathed, his voice thick with relief. He was awake now, fully alert, his eyes scanning her face, searching for reassurance that she was truly okay.
Ziva tried to smile, though it came out weak and a little pained. "I… didn't mean to wake you," she said softly, her voice still raspy.
Tony shook his head, blinking away the remnants of sleep. "You—you're awake." His voice wavered slightly, betraying the depth of his emotions. He looked like he wanted to say more but was holding back.
Ziva squeezed his hand gently, grounding herself in the reality that she was alive, and Tony was here. "You were holding onto me," she said, her tone lighter, but there was gratitude in her eyes.
Tony chuckled softly, but it was filled with the weight of everything that had happened. "Yeah, well… I wasn't going to let you go." He gave her a small, lopsided smile, his usual bravado tinged with genuine relief.
Ziva let out a tired sigh, her eyelids heavy again, but she kept her eyes on Tony. She wanted to reassure him, to let him know she was okay. But for now, her small smile would have to do.
Tony moved carefully, leaning in to softly hug Ziva, his arms wrapping around her with the utmost care, as if he were afraid that he might hurt her if he held on too tight. She felt the warmth of his embrace, the quiet comfort in his presence. He needed this, she realized—to be reassured that she was truly awake, truly here.
Ziva rested her head lightly against him for a brief moment before he pulled back, studying her face. She could see the worry still lingering in his eyes, though his lips twitched in a faint, relieved smile.
"How bad is it?" Ziva asked, her voice still raspy but steadier now. Her eyes flicked down toward her abdomen, where the pain was most intense. She frowned slightly. "When can I leave this place?"
Tony sighed softly, leaning back in his chair, his fingers still resting over her hand. "Not for a couple of days," he said gently. "The doctor said you have to stay here for at least two more days. They had to stop some internal bleeding, and you lost a lot of blood."
Ziva's expression turned serious as she absorbed his words, frustration flickering behind her eyes. She didn't like hospitals. She didn't like feeling weak. But as the pain in her body reminded her of the bullet that had almost cost her her life, she knew she didn't have much of a choice.
"Two days?" she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Tony nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. "Yeah, I know it's not what you want to hear, but you need to heal. And if you try to leave early, I'll… well, I'll make sure they tie you to the bed if I have to."
Ziva raised an eyebrow at him, despite the faint smile tugging at her lips. "Tie me to the bed? Really, Tony?"
He grinned, though it was softer than his usual smirk. "I'm not taking any chances with you, David."
She let out a small breath, not quite a laugh but close. "Fine," she muttered, knowing there was no point in arguing with him right now. She met his eyes again, and for a moment, there was nothing but silent understanding between them.
"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice more serious now.
Tony shook his head slightly, his expression turning softer. "You don't have to thank me, Ziva." His grip on her hand tightened just a little. "Just focus on getting better. That's all I need from you right now."
Ziva shifted in the bed, wincing slightly as she tried to push herself up. The effort was immediate, determined—her natural instinct to resist feeling vulnerable. But Tony was at her side in an instant, gently but firmly pressing her back down onto the mattress.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you think you're doing?" Tony asked, his voice a mix of concern and sternness.
"I need to get mobile," Ziva replied, frowning as she attempted to rise again. "I can't lie here like an invalid, Tony. The sooner I get up, the faster I'll heal."
Tony shook his head, his hand still steady on her shoulder. "Ziva, you just got out of surgery. You need to rest before you do anything else."
She shot him a look, her stubbornness evident in the hard set of her jaw. "Resting won't make me fit to go back in the field."
Tony raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. "If you don't rest, you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. And if you try to push yourself now, I'll cuff you to this bed if I have to."
Ziva's expression shifted slightly, the tension in her face giving way to something more mischievous. She tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. "Cuff me to the bed?" she echoed, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. "Tony, if you wanted to use cuffs, you only had to ask."
Tony blinked, his eyes widening slightly, caught off guard by her sudden flirtatious tone. His face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and surprise, and he immediately let go of her shoulder, backing off just a bit.
"Uh—what? No, that's not—I didn't mean—" he stammered, clearly flustered.
Ziva chuckled softly, thoroughly enjoying the effect her comment had on him. "You are too easy, Tony."
He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure but failing miserably. "Yeah, well… I'm just trying to keep you from doing something reckless. You know, like you usually do."
Ziva grinned at him, settling back against the pillows, clearly pleased with herself. "I'll behave," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "For now."
Tony exhaled, shaking his head as he muttered, "You're impossible, David." But despite his words, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips.
As Tony and Ziva continued talking, their banter filled the room, the tension from earlier slowly fading. They were interrupted when the door creaked open, and a stern-looking nurse entered, clipboard in hand. Her eyes immediately fell on Tony.
"You're still here?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in clear disapproval. "Visiting hours ended a while ago."
Tony glanced at the clock and winced, realizing he had overstayed. "Uh, sorry about that. I didn't realize…"
The nurse cut him off. "You're allowed a few minutes to say goodbye, but then you need to leave."
Ziva shot Tony a glance, amused but also slightly irritated on his behalf. She opened her mouth to say something, but Tony gave her a soft smile, stopping her.
"I'll go," he said, standing up from the chair beside her bed. He leaned down toward her, his hand gently brushing her hair away from her face. "Get some rest, okay?"
Ziva nodded, watching him closely, but before she could respond, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, the gesture filled with affection.
"Goodnight, sweetcheeks," he whispered, the familiar nickname making her smile faintly.
Ziva watched him as he pulled away, her eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and warmth. "Goodnight, Tony," she replied softly.
With one last glance at her, Tony straightened up and nodded to the nurse. "Alright, I'm going. Take good care of her."
The nurse, though still firm, softened slightly. "We will," she assured him before watching as he reluctantly left the room.
After Tony left, Ziva lay in the hospital bed, her body still aching but her mind more focused on the moments that had just passed. The way Tony had held onto her hand, as if making sure she wouldn't slip away, lingered in her thoughts. His touch had been gentle but firm, and she could still feel the warmth where his fingers had interlaced with hers.
Then there was the kiss on her forehead. It wasn't just a simple goodbye—it had meant something more. She wasn't sure how to define it, but it left a feeling of comfort and safety that was hard to ignore. Tony had always been protective, but this was different—softer, more intimate.
As she thought about him, a small smile tugged at her lips. The familiar banter, his nervousness when she teased him—it all seemed to fall into place as she realized just how much he had been there for her, in every way.
Her eyes grew heavier, and with those thoughts of Tony's quiet strength and affection swirling in her mind, she slowly drifted back into sleep. For the first time in a long while, she felt a strange sense of secureness.