Title: Home
Genre: Drama, Character Study
Summary: When she is rescued from Somalia, Ziva returns home to find she isn't quite as comfortable as she used to be.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Note: Written for EmyPink during the 2012 NFA White Elephant Exchange. I had a whole lot of fun writing this, I hope everyone enjoys reading it!
The couch was comfortable. Ziva stretched her legs out, resting her heels against the far arm. The fabric was soft and warm against the exposed skin of her arms and legs. Turning onto her side, she half-listened to the quiet murmur of the television and the distant hum of traffic. After a few moments she sighed and shoved herself upright. Standing she turned and stared at the couch with an appraising eye.
The tan couch was the perfect length for her to stretch out comfortably on. The fabric was nice, velvety and not scratchy. Frowning Ziva sat back down. For a few moments she smoothed her hands over the fabric, reveling in the soft texture. Reaching over she grabbed a throw pillow and fluffed it. Relaxing back into the plush cushions Ziva held the pillow over her lap and closed her eyes.
After only a few moments a quiet growl of frustration escaped her lips. Again she stood, hands fisting into the throw pillow as she whipped around to glare at the couch. 'There is nothing physically wrong with this couch,' she told herself. It was comfortable, everything about it was perfect.
With another growl Ziva threw the pillow back onto the couch and spun on her heel. Maybe a hot bath could drain the tension out of her.
"So you moved into your new apartment last week?"
"Yes, I found an apartment in the same area that I previously lived. It is nice; one bedroom and bath with a nice view. I was able to resume the same jogging route."
"You were staying in a hotel before that?"
"No, I spent a few nights at the Navy Lodge and then went to stay with a friend."
"Miss Sciuto?"
"I do not understand why you ask questions to which you already know the answers."
"Because your answer assigns a significance to my knowledge that I cannot learn from a file."
"I see...Yes, I stayed with Abby."
"How was that?"
"Abby is a good host. She was very…attentive, to my needs."
"But?"
"But we are very different people. She and I have different ideas about what I need."
"So how are you settling into your new apartment?"
"Quite well. Everyone at NCIS chopped in to replace my furnishings. The only things I had to replace myself were my clothes."
"How are you sleeping?"
"Well…it is still a new environment."
"So, not well?"
"No, I...I find it difficult to fall asleep. Let alone stay asleep when I do manage."
"Are you comfortable in your new home?"
"Of course."
"Did you have trouble falling asleep at Miss Sciuto's?"
"No, but Abby kept me very busy. By the end of the day I was very tired."
"Have you been keeping yourself busy?"
"I have been working up to my former exercise regimen. But I spend much of the day relaxing."
"Relaxing how?"
"I lay on the couch and watch television or take a hot bath."
"You said your colleagues at NCIS bought you your new furniture. How do you like it so far?"
"It is all very nice. Abby's bed is wonderful, the mattress adjusts to however soft or firm I desire it to be. McGee's couch is the perfect length to stretch out comfortably upon."
"You mean your bed. And your couch."
"Of course."
"Yet, you aren't sleeping well. What's wrong with the bed and the couch Ziva?"
"Nothing, They have no obvious flaws. They are perfect."
"But they aren't yours are they? You didn't pick them out."
"…"
"Your bed and your couch were destroyed several months ago, before you returned to Israel."
Early morning light made the wet pavement shine. It had rained heavily the night before. Ziva had lain in bed with the curtains pulled back watching the lightning illuminate the rain streaming down the windowpane. Stretching her legs Ziva jumped over a shallow puddle. She got splashed anyway when Jethro leapt straight into the water with a happy woof.
"Jethro!"
Tim's long suffering expression made her smile. The German Shepherd didn't seem to notice or mind his owner's frustration. Already his brown eyes were searching the trail ahead, straining against the leash as he caught sight of another, deeper, puddle. With a sigh Tim allowed himself to be pulled along, only to be soaked when the eighty-five pound canine's front paws smacked into the water. Ziva managed to avoid most of the splash, though her tennis shoes and socks were already soaked through.
"Well buddy," said Tim menacingly as he pulled the dog out of the water. "Looks like you're going to miss that new Animal Cops episode, since we're both going to need baths again."
Ziva laughed outright as the dog's ears and tail began to wilt. They completed another full circuit of the park before Ziva had to pause. She bent over, hands on her knees as she sucked in deep breaths. Swallowing she straightened and put a hand to her throat. Her pulse was racing! After three measly circuits!
Jethro continued to pull forward, his energy in no way spent. Tim glanced between his dog and his friend, clearly unsure about what to do. He didn't want to leave Ziva alone, but if Jethro didn't get all of his energy out he would be a holy terror that night. Ziva smiled, making up his mind for him as she motioned to a nearby park bench.
"Go ahead. He will give you nothing but trouble later if you do not wear him out now."
Tim still looked uncertain. But an eighty-five pound dog was hard to resist. With one final worried glance he called back over his shoulder and let Jethro pull him away.
"Okay, we shouldn't be too much longer. Just wait there and we'll be right back."
Ziva watched her friend's back disappear and allowed the smile to slip from her face. Fingernails dug deep crescents into the soft exposed flesh of her knees as she worked to get her breath and pulse back under control. Her back was rigid, jaw clenched tight despite her attempt to appear relaxed.
She could not remember a time when she had felt so exhausted after so little exercise. Even at her worst in the past she had always been able to complete at least five circuits without breaking a sweat. Three months of malnutrition and little to no activity had clearly taken its toll on her body.
Dampness on her skin dragged her from her reverie. Ziva glanced at her knees, moving her hands to see a slight stream of blood trickling down her calf. Exhaling slowly she folded her hands in her lap and leaned back against the bench. Closing her eyes she tilted her face towards the sky and counted her breaths. Focusing all of her attention on the inhale, as oxygen filled her lungs, and the exhale, as it rushed out of her body.
For a moment it seemed as if the relaxation technique would work. The muscles in her back and shoulders relaxed, the tension ebbing away with every exhale. Then a pair of men jogged past, their laughter loud and obnoxious and for a moment she was back in the desert and the tension rushed back tenfold. Ziva gritted her teeth with frustration. Never before had her body betrayed her in such a way!
Loud barking heralded Jethro and Tim's return. The dog bounded up to her, placing his large front paws on the bench and thoroughly laving her face with his tongue. His tail was whipping back and forth frantically, displaying just how much he had missed her, despite them being separated for barely five minutes. Tim plopped down on the bench beside her but the indulgent smile on his lips didn't manage to conceal the worried look in his eyes.
Leaning forward, Ziva buried her face in the warm brown fur, scratching the dog's ears vigorously so she did not have to meet her friends eyes. After a moment she stilled, breathing in the animal scent and the fainter scent of Tim's fabric softener. When she finally straightened Tim's eyes were across the park, watching another dog chase pigeons.
Standing abruptly, Ziva reached out and carefully took the leash from Tim's hand.
"I believe that Jethro has one more circuit left in him."
Tim nodded and this time his smile reached his eyes. Together they set off again at a quick jog. Ziva allowed Jethro run slightly ahead of her, keeping her eyes trained on the dogs ears. She would not allow her body to control her this way. She would simply work and work hard to regain her former strength.
"Why are you pushing yourself so hard?"
"Because an agent faces danger every time they are called out. If I am to become an NCIS agent officially I must regain my former strength and abilities."
"You plan to become an NCIS agent? What about Mossad?"
"I will not be returning to Mossad."
"But surely Director David, your father, would like to see you? After all, if a child of mine had returned from the dead-"
"Eli knew that I was not dead."
"What?"
"For each month that I was held prisoner my captors sent my father a video as proof of life. The first video was for ransom, the second humiliation and the third was a threat. My father responded to none of them."
"You mean…he knew where you were the whole time? That they were keeping you alive?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry Ziva. I'm not usually surprised during these sessions but…"
"That is why I will not return to Mossad. From the moment I was captured I knew that my father would never come for me. I was left to be…tortured and eventually slaughtered. I had accepted it and had even forgiven him."
"But then your team rescued you."
"Yes. The team that I had abandoned came. Believing that I was dead they came anyway, for vengeance! While my own father…did nothing."
"I see…Ziva, have you spoken to your father at all since your were rescued."
"No. When I was captive I had managed to find forgiveness for him. But now that I am free…all I can feel for him is rage."
"That's a very understandable way to feel Ziva. But, perhaps he never received the videos? You should speak with him."
"No, I am quite certain that he knew exactly what was happening to me. The only thing my father will be receiving from me will be my resignation from Mossad."
That conversation with Gibbs had not gone the way she had planned it. She had only wanted to thank Gibbs, to ask if they could all be a team again. But he had shuttled her to Director Vance. Neither man seemed entirely comfortable with her anymore. It surprised her…though she supposed it shouldn't have. She abandoned the team at a time when they needed her. She had lost her trust in them. It should have come as no surprise that they had lost some trust in her as well.
But for Gibbs to believe what he had, about Ari…that had shocked her to her core.
She knew her actions, with Michael and in Israel, had shaken his trust in her, but to go that far. Even now, days later, it made her feel cold inside.
She lashed out, a wrapped hand connecting hard with the punching bag she had had installed in the corner of her new apartment. The bag swung on its chain and she struck out again and again.
This was what Eli's teachings had led too! She knew the way that people saw her. The ninja, the assassin; they were right. She was a trained killer. But for Gibbs to believe that she would be cold enough to blindly obey an order to kill her own brother. It was astonishing that he had bothered attempting to avenge her supposed death if he thought so little of her.
Ziva turned, bending slightly as her leg snapped up and slammed hard into the side of the bag. It swung wildly on the chain, crashing loudly against the wall. Almost immediately the man next door began screaming for quiet. She reached out, stopping the bag before it could hit the wall again. Leaning her forehead against it Ziva again went through the relaxation techniques that Dr. Bracco had taught her.
Eventually the anger faded away and the deep, bone chilling sadness returned. Her eyes began to water as the tears that she had been pushing back finally fought their way to the surface. Gibbs had considered it. That she would have followed her father's orders. That she would have killed Ari simply to get on his good side.
Ziva stepped back, away from the bag, and turned her attention to her hands. The skin had split in a few places. Her hands were unused to fighting now. She carefully unwrapped the bloody tape, tossing it in a trashcan as she headed towards the first aid kit in the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and cleaned each cut with alcohol, ignoring the sting as it cleansed.
She had convinced him of the truth. She was sure of it. He would have known if she had been lying and she had not been. Despite how she felt about him now, back then Gibbs and his team had been nothing. And Ari had been everything. Her brother, whom had helped her perfect her techniques, who had commiserated with her when Tali had died and their father had not seemed to care at all.
But Ari had changed. He had become a monster. A monster Ziva now feared she was beginning to resemble.
"I have changed much since I came to NCIS."
"I've heard that in your first year you were quite a 'wild child.'"
"I am a better person now than I was then. But sometimes…sometimes I fear slipping and becoming that person again. Or someone worse."
"What brings up those feelings Ziva?"
"Recently a question was asked of me. That if I had done something because I was ordered too or because I had chosen to do so on my own."
"And what was the answer to that question?"
"I did what I did because I thought it was the only thing I could do."
"But the person questioning you did not believe you?"
"He did. But the idea that he might have considered the other option has me racketed."
"Rattled?"
"What is the difference?"
"Well, if you are rattled you are shaken. If someone is racketed, well they've probably been making money illegally."
"I see."
"This person's opinion mean's a lot to you then?"
"This person's opinion is everything to me now."
"Then you need to find those things about yourself that make you feel like you are becoming 'someone worse.' Find those things and work to change them. If that person cares about you in return, they will take notice that you are really trying."
She was not expecting the small crowd when she opened her apartment door. The incessant knocking had dragged her away from her novel, which she was sure was just reaching the good part. She recognized the knock and had been expecting Tony. But Abby, Tim, Jimmy and Ducky had been unexpected. Their faces were bright, some with mischief and others with embarrassment. With a smile she stepped back and waved them inside.
"What a pleasant surprise! Was this a coincidental meeting or did one of you plan this?"
Abby's smile was wide as she practically floated into the kitchen, her arms laden with take out bags. With a sharp grin Tony followed after her, his hands laden with two cases of beer. Tim had an offering of chocolate cake and a shy smile, Jimmy slipped by with two large tubs of ice cream and Ducky entered last clutching an aged bottle of red wine.
"Me and Tony came up with idea over our lunch break. Cause ya know, you moved in and we all helped you move in, but you never really had a house warming party! So we figured, since the team isn't on call this weekend, that this was the perfect time!" The take out bags landed on the kitchen counter and Abby whirled around, searching through the cabinets for plates. "So we decided to surprise you with a party! We got everyone together and worked out what we should bring. McSpoilsport over there wanted to ask you first, but it wouldn't have been a surprise party then!"
Tim sighed, looking at Ziva with mock exasperation. Her smile widened.
"Well, it's a good thing that you arrived when you did. Five more minutes later and I would have been soaking in my tub, naked."
Tony, Tim and Jimmy all froze, their minds immediately imagining the scenario. The latter two blushed and busied themselves with their tasks but Tony grinned, leaning forward against the counter.
"Oh? And what would you have done if we'd gotten here while you were in the tub? Hmm? Answered the door in one of those skimpy little towels?" He made an obscure gesture that she supposed was meant to represent said towel. "I've seen them in your bathroom! I might even have been the one to buy them."
"Abby my dear! It looks like you bought enough to feed a small army," interrupted Ducky before Ziva could reply.
At the mention and scent of the Chinese take out the whole group moved into the small kitchenette. They crowded around each other, bumping elbows and stealing food from each other's plates. Eventually once all the food was dished out to everyone who wanted it they migrated into the living room. Ducky took the one armchair while Tony, Tim and Jimmy jostled for space on the couch. Abby and Ziva made themselves comfortable on the floor beside the coffee table.
They talked more than they had in ages. Since before Somalia, before Michael. They shared what she had missed out on. The funny cases, the women that hadn't been able to fill the spot she had left behind. It was hard to hear, that while her life had been ending in a desert her friends had been going on obliviously, but it also helped. Because she knew that they had been searching for her, that they had found her without even expecting too.
And after the alcohol had slightly loosened her tongue she shared with them. What she had known going into the desert, what she had learned after her capture and what she had kept from them all since her rescue. Their outrage was silent, burning as intensely as her own and she found it calming. She shared with them some of the fears she had shared with Dr. Bracco and they listened and did not judge. When she was finished, Abby was wrapped around her like an octopus and all but Ducky had joined them both on the floor.
It was a relief, she decided. To share the knowledge instead of locking it away inside. Seeing their reactions so similar to her own seemed to justify them. It was okay to be angry over what had happened to her because she was not alone, not keeping it bottled up inside. Her friends would not allow that anger to consume her. They would share it. She felt as if they had eased a great burden that she had not even known she was carrying.
That night after she said her final goodnight and locked the door behind them, Ziva grabbed a blanket and curled up on her tan, velvety couch. She rested her head on a throw pillow and inhaled deeply, focusing on the air entering her lungs. She could still smell them, their individual scents.
Tony's expensive cologne. Jimmy, always seeming to smell like the sanitizer from autopsy. Tim and the faint scent of his fabric softener. Abby's homemade gunpowder perfume. Ducky's vintage cologne, something he assured them had come from Scotland but was unfortunately, no longer made.
As the scents drifted over her Ziva felt herself relaxing, her mind slipping into that space between wakefulness and dreaming. For a moment she thought she could smell sawdust, could feel a hand tugging her blanket up to her chin, but she was too far gone to know for sure. The next morning she woke and found a small, carved, wooden ballerina decorating her coffee table.
"So I hear you'll be heading to FLETC soon."
"Yes, I am sure that I will do quite well."
"I hear you're also studying for the citizenship test?"
"Yes, only American citizens can be NCIS agents. I believe that Director Vance is…pulling some strings to have the process hurried along."
"Did you speak to your father?"
"I wrote a letter for him that I included with my resignation from Mossad."
"Well I suppose that's better than nothing."
"I shared with my friends what happened to me in Somalia."
"Of your own free will?"
"Yes. It was…good to talk about it. I felt much lighter after I got it off of my chest."
"And how did they react to what you told them?"
"Much in the same manner that I did. With anger and a very deep sadness."
"I see you've had an epiphany."
"Yes. I feared that my anger towards my father for what he had done to me would turn me into someone like Ari, a monster. But seeing my friend's anger made me realize that I was not alone. Ari did not share his anger. He hid it and it festered, it made him truly ugly on the inside and it changed him. Perhaps if he had friends with whom he could have shared his feelings he would not have ended up the way he had."
"How are you sleeping Ziva?"
"All through the night."
End
