Nothing to Remember
Voices. That was the first thing she heard when she started to regain consciousness. Angry voices, as if two people were in a heated argument. Over what, she didn't know. And a second later, she didn't care. Cause then it hit her.
Pain. Sharp, ebbing pain that never seemed to go away and she felt that this time, it never would. Her head, that was where the source of the pain was. Waves of agony hit her, over and over, like she was standing in the ocean and waves of icy, cold water kept hitting her. She clenched her teeth against it, trying (but failing) to ignore it.
She looked around her then, trying to figure out where she was, taking in all the possible escape routes she could use if need be: door on her left, window on her right, and a window in front of her. Hm, she thought, one good kick and I would be abl-
She stilled at the silence that had suddenly choked the air. Her eyes flicked to the door, wondering why the voices had suddenly... stopped. She focused her attention on the door, her eyes taking in every single detail and outline of it, her ears tuned to capture the sound of any footsteps or noise that someone made.
She expected them to come barreling through the door, but all she head was a quiet rap on the door.
Frowning, she cried out hoarsely, "Come in."
She tensed, waiting for something to happen, wanting something to happen; for them to come barreling through the door with guns and knives.
What she did not expect was for them to open the door slowly so one of them could pop their head inside.
Her entire body seemed to react differently, intently aware of the face that stared at her: her heart began to beat faster, her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, and heat began to pool in her lower belly. But it was her brain that made the connection, fitting the last piece into the puzzle and the man's name whispered in her mind.
"...Tony..." she whispered, yearning to reach out and hug him to her.
Even though he was clear across the room, she still was able to see the relief that washed over him, the flame of anger that had once burned in his eyes all but distinguished. And it was replaced by something she couldn't put a name to.
Tony smiled at her, but before she could smile back, he had pulled his head back outside. She froze, fearing that he was going to leave her in this place, alone. But before she could put more thought into it, the door was pushed open wide, letting in the blinding light from the hallway.
She blinked several times, waiting for the black spots to fade from her vision. When she was finally able to see again, there was another man in the room, making it a threesome rather than a twosome.
She looked at the, wondering who he was. The light from the hallway fell on one side of his face, showing off white-gray hair, steely, blue eyes, and a face that showed no expression whatsoever. She waited for her brain to click, to somehow fit him into the puzzle that was her memory. But unlike with Tony, this piece didn't fit.
She looked over at Tony, a question in her eyes. His face fell a little when he took in her expression. She reached over to pick up his hand from where he had let it fall on her bed, fearing that she had done something wrong.
She met his eyes once more and gave him a small smile. He smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes flicked back to where the man stood across from her, then flicked back to hers. He scooted closer, holding her hand more tightly. "Ziva," he asked quietly, "do you know who this man is?"
She looked once more at the man across from her, studying him thoughtfully until she was sure she could create a sculpture of him. She glanced back at Tony and shook her head. She watched his head fall into his hands, watched as he stayed like that, not moving, and wondered what was wrong.
It was several minutes before Tony lifted his head to look at her. "...Ziva..." he started, "This is Gibbs... He's our boss."
