Tony DiNozzo sat in his car outside of his partner's â€" Ziva David â€" apartment. He had been trying to gather enough courage to go and confront her. It had been a long hard case and Ziva had been acting very strange through it.
Earlier that day, they â€" mostly Ziva â€" brought down a serial rapist that targeted Navy Women â€" both their wives and those in active duty. Each was raped and murdered except for two victims. One had escaped which started the investigation. The other one was about to be Ziva â€" she was undercover, but shot McPeterson â€" the rapist â€" point blank before he got the chance.
The entire case Ziva was short tempered, sensitive, angry, edgy, had no regard for anything else, refused to tolerate dead ends, and completely ignored and completely shut down every time, Gibbs, McGee, Abby, Ducky, and even Tony, tried to convince her in to telling them what was going on â€" or what had happened.
Tony had his suspicions - his gut feelings - about the situation, and did not like them. Didn't like them one bit.
He went to Ducky to if he could analyze Ziva in any way to confirm his suspicions. Ducky unfortunately, believed what Tony hoped â€" prayed â€" wasn't true, was true. Tony also knew that Ducky would have passed it on to Gibbs, and even possibly the director.
How he wished he could have been Gibbs' position back in Somalia. Gibbs got to kill Salim, Gibbs got to kill a lot of the scumbag terrorists that tortured Ziva. While he himself sat tied to a chair and didn't even kill one of them. But he had been the first to see her; he had been the one to strive for the information and to personally volunteer to almost get himself killed just for Vengeance for the apparent death of the women he-
Shaking away his thoughts he got out of his car and walked into Ziva's building. He stood in front of her door contemplating whether or not he should run the hell out of there.
'No,' Tony thought, 'Man up.' He knocked twice on the door and it creaked open. Ziva didn't answer it, and he knew she always triple locked the doors. He could hear a grumbling moaning sound coming from inside.
"Ziva?" he called out cautiously as he stepped into the apartment. Everything was messy, like a tornado just blew through; the couch was turned over, glass coffee table smashed. Pictures hug croaked and cracked. Clothes, trash, debris, and food littered the floor. A bit of blood was on the wall, slowly dripping down. He heard another painful groan coming from the bedroom.
"Ziva!" he called out again as he pulled out his gun
The room was just as disastrous as the first. He looked frantically around the room, searching for her. After he cleared the closet, he noticed a pair of legs with bloody feet on the balcony.
Stepping cautiously towards the glass door he stepped through it â€" for it was smashed â€" and turned to see the crouched figure. Seeing it he immediately put his gun away.
"Ziva…" Tony whispered trying to take in the state of his partner.
Her feet were ragged, cut, bloody, with little shards of glass sticking out. Her clothes had some blood on them and were torn and rumpled. She had a dark stain on her black shirt, which could only be caused by alcohol. Her arms were dirty and blood stained.
Her knuckles were scarped and split from punching holes in her wall. She was clutching a half empty bottle of beer and at least four other empty bottles were around her along with the case that had one left.
Her beautiful brown eyes were bloodshot, and full of sorrow. Her flush cheeks were tear stain. Her hair was scraggly and tangled, curtaining her face.
He didn't want to see her like this. Didn't want to see her so weak, defenseless, vulnerable, so un-Ziva-ish. Ziva was Ziva, hard badass that tried her best to hide her emotions. This was a completely different Ziva. This was a Ziva that got drunk, trashed her house and most of all… a Ziva who actually cried.
"Tony…" she croaked weakly, "What are you doing here?" she took another swing from her bottle.
"I came to check on you," he said crouching down next to her. 'it's a good thing I did' he added to himself.
Her weak eyes narrowed, "why… would you do that?" she stammered.
Tony did a double take, "you would know why if you could have seen the way you'd been acting all week." He said, "and it's a good thing I did come!" he added angrily, taking away her beer, "look at your apartment, look at you! Dammit look at your feet!"
Ziva reached for the last bottle but Tony grabbed it and chucked both of the bottles off the balcony. A few seconds later a small crashing sound echoed throw the otherwise quiet complex.
"You owe me a beer," she said angrily.
Tony realized she wasn't that different, Ziva-Ziva was still underneath, "I don't owe you anything," he retorted, "except and apology."
"I don't want an apology I want another be-" she began but Tony cut her off.
"Not for the beer Ziva," he said, "for Somalia."
Ziva's eyes narrowed, a pained look on her face, "You are sorry you rescued me?"
"No, no of course not," Tony whispered, "You have no idea how much of a relief it was to find you alive - to just be able to find you at all."
"Then what?" Ziva snarled.
Tony sighed a heavy sigh, and pieced some final thoughts together, "I'm sorry for ruining your life. I am so so sorry that because of me you went back to Israel and because you went back to Israel you took Rifkin's place on the Ki-don unit and then went on the Damocles and ended up in Somalia, by yourself, and captured by Salim and-and-" his voice cracked, breaking up his apologetic ramble.
They sat in compete and utter silence. Ziva's eyes were wide, memories and guilt crashing over her in waves. The fragile barriers she set around her self were crumbling, breaking, right before her eyes.
It was all her partners fault.
It was not his fault for Somalia. She brought it on herself. She shouldn't have been fooled, keying her emotions get in the way. She soils be the one apologizing. The only thing he was to blame was ruining the walls she tried desperately to build.
After what seemed like an eternity, Tony spoke.
"Ziva," he whispered, "what did they do to you?"
Ziva did not respond and refused to make eye contact with him. A hard lump was forming in the back of her throat.
"Ziva," he whispered again, reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder, "did they ra-"
"Don't touch me!" she snarled, slowly inching away from so that she was up against the railing. Her eyes were brimmed with tears, now staring at her stunned partner. Don't...touch...me.." she panted, her heat racing.
"Zi..." He whispered cautiously. He did not like seeming her so weak and most of all - venerable. He sits across from her, on one knee, looking her directly in her pained, bloodshot, and teary eyes. "You need to talk about this."
She tried to fight off the tears that were about to spill onto her cheeks.
"I don't need to talk about anything," she said, "I have been doing fine until you came and started asking about it! Why couldn't you leave this alone?"
Tony is taken aback. Sure he expected this, but his mind never fully grasped the concept. The concept that she would only blame him for trying to help her now, and not for jacking her life up.
"Because," he says forcefully yet softly at the same time, "you are my partner Ziva. And it is part of my job - my duty - to have your back. To always have your back. Even if it is out of the line of fire."
One lone tear made it's way from the corner of her eye, down her cheek, and onto the floor.
Tony took advantage of the opportunity, "Ziva David," he said, "did they rape you?"
Her sudden breakdown was all the confirmation he needed.
They flooded out like a dam has just burst. The left shiny streaks on her dirty face. She wasn't just crying, or sobbing, but weeping. The truth was just so...so...
Tony could not bear to see his little ninja like this any longer. He pulled her into a tight embrace and rubbed the back of her hair softly. She clung to him for dear life, letting her hundreds of tears ruin his shirt. They stayed like that for a long time - a long time. Just a hug, a deep hug full of emotion and unsaid things. Tony could feel his shirt stick to his skin from the cool wetness of her tears, but he didn't care.
Deciding that they should get out of the cold, he stood up pulling her with him. He pulled her up into his arms and her legs straddled waist. She still clung to him, letting the pain put out of her and onto him.
He carried her gently threw the door and set her on her messed up bed. As much as he did not want to, he tried to free himself from her iron grip - He needed to fix her feet, fix her house, call Gibbs - but she pulled him down onto the bed with her and curled into his chest.
She cried and cried and cried, but Tony did not care, he just wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back tenderly. He did not like to see his partner is such a foreign state, but he was glad she wasn't keeping everything locked deep away. It is always better to let it out, to face what is bothering you - he had learned that the hard way.
After another period of silence - other than Ziva's slow to calm crying - Ziva finally calmed down enough to speak.
"I am sorry," came her muffled croak as she spoke into Tony's chest.
This startled him, "Why are you apologizing? That's what I came to do." he asked.
"For letting you see me so weak." she said softly as she lofted her head up slightly.
"Ziva..." he said, "you're not...you are not weak. You are one of the strongest women - strongest people - that I have ever met. You survived four months in hell and you survived us for over four years. Ziva... You are not weak, and don't you ever think that again."
Ziva's eyes were brimmed with tears again. Not tears of sadness or self pity, but of tears of thank you and overwhelming emotion. Ziva pulled her self up so that she was propped up on his chest. She leaned up and pressed her soft chapped lips to his cheek. Just like she did back in the mens room so many months ago...
Tony felt the urge to turn his head, make there lips meet each others. But he forced himself not to; he didn't want to push it, to take advantage if her, especially in this state.
For now this is all he needed. He needed his partner - his Ziva - to be ok, and she was now. He knew he should be fixing her up, but that could wait. Right now all he needed - all they needed - was to be where they were in that very moment. Wrapped in the safe haven of each others arms, and slowly drifting into a peaceful sleep.