Tony stood in the pouring rain looking up at the huge grey cement building. Chequered across its surface where tiny windows, some lit up with bright yellow light and some not; like a great big game of ‘Four in a row’, right in front of him. Which one was the right one? Was it any of them? Which one concealed his fallen boss from the rest of the world, with only dull white walls and a saline drip for company? Hospitals could be such depressing places; it was the only place that it was certain that some people would enter and not return. Tony blinked as rain ran down his forehead and dripped from his eyebrows. He reached forward and opened the car door so that the dark haired woman could get out of the car. She looked up at him with a tiny smile, and in one second the entire of this evening flashed before him. He couldn’t help but smile back.
Ziva jumped out the car into the rain. Tony made a move to remove his jacket, that was wrapped around his body but Ziva stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you my jacket,” Tony answered slowly, “Its cold!”
Ziva gave him a mocking look but her heart swelled inside of her. He was such a gentleman. Even in this weather, in which Ziva knew he would be freezing, and he was offering her his jacket. It was so valiant of him to try to take care of her. “I am a Mossad agent, Tony; I have been in worse situations than this.”
Tony looked hurt but smiled anyway. He settled for draping his arm around her as they ran for cover from the storm around them, both of them laughing as they splashed in the puddles dotting the car park. They reached the entrance and pushed though the heavy glass doors into the warm reception. Ziva shook her head and water fell onto her already damp clothes. She slid a look over to Tony who was experiencing the same problem except he was worse. His shirt was completely soaked through, his chest visible through the wet clothes. Ziva smiled, as she remembered not that long ago when that shirt had been on the bathroom floor.
Tony saw her look and knew what she was thinking of. He couldn’t stop thinking about her either. Grinning like a buffoon, he went up to the desk and showed his I.D., asking for Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The lady behind the desk nodded to one of two uniformed men that Tony hadn’t seen standing in the shadowed corner of the large reception hall. Tony thanked the woman and walked over the man who had stepped forward. Ziva followed him, holding up her own I.D. badge. The man walked them over to the elevator and, after a couple of minutes of a rather melancholy silence, the doors pinged open and the three of them got in.
Tony watched the numbers escalate as the elevator rose higher and higher. He could see Ziva doing the exact same thing standing next to him.
18, 19, 20…
It eventually came to a halt on floor 27. Floor 27 was the floor where Gibbs was lying asleep on a small metal bed, in a small dark room. Just a couple of hundred feet away and they would be at that door. The door that filled Tony with dread and fear. Seeing him lying down like that would make everything real. Last night still felt like a dream to him, a horrible nightmare that had ended when he woke up. Seeing Gibbs lying there, a wound in his chest would take that fantasy away, and there would be no hiding from the fact that Tony’s mistake may have cost Gibbs his life.
The metal doors opened onto a dimly lit corridor and they walked along. The only sound was their footsteps and the distant beeping from the machines of each room they passed. They turned a corner and Ziva’s stomach tightened. Ahead was a small room lined with chairs; some of them were occupied with familiar figures. Ziva continued walking slowly forward as she met with the grim faces of McGee, Abby and Director Shepard. The guard who had accompanied them up here nodded to two already stood at a door on his left, turned around and left back the way they had come.
Tony was the first to speak.
“Where is he?”
McGee nodded to the door with the guards. A large window stood to the left of the door, but Tony refused to look into it; not until he had to. He clenched his jaw so as not to react to the sound of Ziva gasping beside him, her head turned to face the window.
“How is he?” This met a mixture of reactions. Abby face was smeared with black tears but her face was hard and determined. The Director just stared forward in her own little world, her face blank and unreadable; Tony wasn’t even sure if she knew Ziva and himself were there. McGee again was the only one to react.
“Ducky is in with him at the moment, but it’s not good,” he said solemnly. “The next two nights are critical.”
Ziva moved towards the window and pressed up against it. She felt rude for prying into Ducky’s own grief, but she just had to see Gibbs. She moved over toward the guards and looked them in the eye, “May I?”
They moved apart and let her pass, her hand turning the handle of the doors. She looked over to Tony, but he was avoiding her eyes. She turned back sadly and entered the room. Ducky didn’t even seem to notice, Ziva had to clear her throat loudly three times before he stopped mid-ramble and faced her.
“I’m so sorry, Ducky, but I had to come…” she began, but Ducky already knew what she was going to say.
“It’s perfectly okay, my dear,” Ducky said, but the voice he spoke with wasn’t his own; it was devoid of his usual cheer and gentle happiness. Instead it was dull and drawn out, tired and drained. “I understand completely, I will get out of your way.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It’s fine; Jethro doesn’t need anymore old man’s recounts of tales from the past; he needs reminding of the present and, more importantly, of his future. I believe you would be better to do this part.” Ducky feigned a smile and left the room, leaving Ziva alone in the small room. She swallowed hard as she walked forward towards the bed.
“Hello, Jethro.”
***
Author's Chapter Notes:
Ziva and Tony make their way to see Gibbs...