Title: Putting Us Back Together
Pairing: McGee/Ziva
Rating: K+
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, a bit of Hurt/Comfort, slight Romance
Cat: Het
Spoilers: General spoilers for the beginning of season 7. A different take on the post-Somalia storyline.
Warnings: None.
Summary: He had no idea her pain would become his. Will be posted in about 3 chapters.
Author's Note: Written for megeesgeek for the White Elephant Exchange on NFA based on her second prompt: "Play the moments, pause the memories, stop the pain, and rewind the happiness—Post Somalia reflections. Everyone on the team comes home changed from the Saleem experience. Everyone is trying to find their equilibrium again—in their own ways—which lends itself to letting people fall through the cracks. Tim falls through the cracks. But Ziva is there to catch him when he inevitably falls."
Chapter One
If he was counting, it had been 2 days, 6 hours and 23 minutes since he ate. Well, ate anything he could keep down, that is. Every time he tried, the images entered his mind and the food came right back up. If there was one thing he was sure of now, it was that Ziva was a lot stronger than he was.
He made his way to his feet on shaky legs, gripping the edge of the vanity in his bathroom as he did so. When he looked in the mirror, he tried to ignore how pale he was, the heavy bags under his eyes, how gaunt his face looked in general. Nobody at work had seemed to notice. That was a good thing. If Tony found out, he'd just laugh and poke fun at him. Gibbs would tell him to suck it up. Abby might fawn over him, but he couldn't have her hanging all over him. Ziva . . . He didn't know how she would react. He never knew what to expect from her.
And yet, all this was because of her.
The ringing of his cell phone jolted him from his thoughts and he started towards his bedroom, but had to pause to let a dizzy spell dissipate. He closed his eyes to wait it out, about 30 seconds, then opened them and continued on his way, hoping it wasn't Gibbs on the phone.
When he picked up the phone, he groaned to himself. Ziva. Maybe that was a good thing?
He answered. "McGee."
"McGee, are you alright? What took you so long to answer?"
Maybe not such a good thing. But he could come up with something. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just, uh, I was . . . in the bathroom." That much wasn't a lie.
"Oh." He could imagine the expression on Ziva's face, a cross between amusement and embarrassment. "Well, if you are finished. . ."
"Very much finished."
"We have a case. Tony and Gibbs are en route to the scene. I can pick you up if you need me to. . ."
"No, that's fine. I'll be there. What's the address?"
Ziva rattled off a street number somewhere in Georgetown and he scribbled it down on the back of an envelope, knowing he'd never remember otherwise, not with the thoughts that had been running through his head lately.
He just hoped he could make it to the crime scene without throwing up again.
McGee parked next to Ziva's car and stepped out, glad he'd made it without vomiting again, though he supposed that was easy when there wasn't anything left in his stomach.
"McGee!"
He looked over at the sound of Ziva's voice, and saw her eyes narrow in concern as she took in his appearance and walked closer. He shook his head. "I'm fine, Ziva."
"You do not look fine, McGee. Have you been sleeping?" She raised a hand to his forehead, resting the back of it against his skin. "You do not feel warm."
"I don't have a fever, Ziva." She continued to look worried, so he gave in. A bit. "I think I maybe caught a stomach bug or something. I . . . haven't been able to keep anything down."
"Well, then you should go home and get some rest!" Ziva said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If Gibbs sees you, he will probably send you home, anyway." She wrapped an arm around his back and guided him to the crime scene, an action McGee was secretly thankful for, as he wasn't sure he would've made it on his own.
Tony looked up as they approached, the gleeful expression at the duo being late changing to a grimace as he took in McGee's appearance. "Hey, McTardy, wake up on the wrong side of the toilet this morning? You don't look so hot."
McGee rolled his eyes. "I already told Ziva I'm fine."
"You told me you think you have a stomach bug," Ziva corrected, still standing protectively beside him. "That does not sound fine to me."
Tony grumbled to himself. "Just don't go adding your breakfast to the crime scene. Don't think the boss would appreciate that."
McGee glared at him. "Thanks for your concern, Dinozzo."
Tony stood up from where he'd been photographing the scene. "Hey, man, I'm serious. You look like you're gonna pass out any minute. And you've got Ziva all worried and you know what that means." He made a face and Ziva sent him a warning glare.
McGee sighed. "Tony, I. . ."
"Hey!" Gibbs' voice joined the conversation, though he didn't sound half as concerned as Tony or Ziva. He stood about 50 feet away from them, his notepad in his hand. "Any of you going to join me in doing some work today?"
"McGee's feeling a little McBarfy today, Boss," Tony yelled back to him, flinching at the whack to the arm McGee gave him.
Gibbs walked over, looking less than amused, but his expression changed as he caught sight of McGee. "You look like hell, Tim."
McGee stood up straighter. "Nothing I can't handle, Boss."
"Yeah, well, I don't need you compromising the crime scene. Go home."
He sighed, while Ziva gave him a smug look, happy she had succeeded in getting him to go back home. He turned to leave, but Gibbs spoke again, making him turn back.
"I don't want to see you back at work until you're feeling better. And don't think I won't hold you to that."
"Yes, Boss."
"Do you need a ride, McGee?" Ziva spoke from next to him.
"Uh, no, I'll be fine. Thanks, Ziva." He smiled at her, showing his appreciation for her concern, hoping that would ease her mind and get her to back off. Her reaction surprised him. He thought she might be a bit concerned, but she seemed genuinely worried about him.
He started back to his car, but he hadn't gone more than a few yards before his vision blurred and he found himself stumbling and falling to his knees. He braced himself as he blinked and waited for his vision to go back to normal, hearing Ziva call his name. She was at his side in an instant, rubbing a hand across his back, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to convince her he was fine now.
"I am driving you home," she said, her tone telling him not to argue with her.
"What about my car?" Ziva was already guiding him to her car, not even bothering to check with Gibbs, and she shook her head.
"Tony can drive it back to your place later. . ."
"Alright!" came Tony's voice from behind them, and McGee closed his eyes and groaned to himself.
Ziva kept quiet until they reached her car, where she opened the passenger door and watched McGee slip inside before heading to the driver's side and getting in herself. As they put on their seatbelts, Ziva said, "I do not know how you even managed to drive here without killing yourself."
"I just got a little dizzy," McGee insisted. "I'm fine when I'm sitting down."
Ziva gave the key a rough twist in the ignition and pulled out, too upset to say anything else, and McGee could tell, but he wasn't in the mood to argue, and he felt too tired to even say much of anything, so he simply rested his head against the window and closed his eyes.
Back at the crime scene, Tony glanced up at Gibbs, who had returned to work almost immediately after Ziva and McGee had left. "Ziva's acting pretty Mama Bear over McGoo," he said, trying to sound casual. "Whaddaya suppose that means?"
"That she cares," Gibbs said, writing something down and looking off into the distance. "And she needs a distraction."
"Distraction?" Tony asked.
Gibbs was silent for a moment, then said, "Get back to work, DiNozzo."
Tony nodded. "On it, Boss."
Ziva waited until they were well onto the freeway before looking over at McGee. Her anger dissipated when she saw that he appeared to be asleep. She wondered how long he'd been sick, and why he'd kept it from them. She supposed it was just like him to do that, though, especially considering the past few weeks.
She turned her attention back to her driving as she saw their exit come up. Something told her there was more to this than a simple illness, and she was determined to find out what, even if she wasn't sure she was ready to hear it.
His apartment building came into view sooner than she had expected, though with the way she drove, she shouldn't have been surprised. She pulled over and parked, waiting to see if McGee would wake up on his own.
He opened his eyes after a few moments and glanced over to find Ziva smiling at him. "Welcome back," she said, holding his gaze for a few moments before turning her attention to her seatbelt, unbuckling herself and reaching for the door.
McGee saw the motion and shook his head, even though she was facing away from him. "Ziva, you don't have to walk me up. I'm feeling much better."
She paused, then slowly turned to face him. "I could always show up in the middle of the night, McGee. I do know how to pick a lock. . ."
He sighed, too tired to even act scared by her comment. "Okay, you can come up."
Ziva looked pleased with herself and exited the car, moving quickly around to the passenger side to help McGee out, though he did appear to be feeling somewhat better. She waited for him to enter the building and followed behind, both because it was his apartment and because she wanted to keep an eye on him.
They made it to his apartment without incident, and as he unlocked the door and let them inside, McGee said, "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of this, Ziva. It's not like I haven't been sick before."
Ziva waited a bit before answering, wondering if she should tip her hand as far as wondering if there was something aside from just a simple stomach bug that was bothering him, and ended up saying, "I simply am concerned about your well-being, McGee. This bug, or whatever it is that ails you, seems to have hit you rather hard. What happened at the crime scene earlier could have happened in the field, while pursuing a suspect. It is dangerous."
He dipped his head at her words. "Yeah, I guess you have a point. I just didn't want to bother you with it."
Ziva narrowed her eyes at his words. Did he mean her specifically, or the team as a whole? Either way, she didn't have time to deal with it right now, as Gibbs surely expected her back at the crime scene. "I wish you would have said something," was what she settled for, her voice soft. "Hopefully you will if something like this comes up again."
He nodded, looking her in the eye again. "I will, Ziva. I promise. Thank you."
She smiled. "You should be in bed." She moved her hands to his back to turn him around, pushing him toward his bedroom.
"I can walk by myself, you know," McGee said, but couldn't help but smile at the action.
"Yes, we know how well that worked out earlier," Ziva said, and McGee rolled his eyes. They reached his bed and Ziva pulled back the covers, earning another eye roll from McGee.
He climbed in, knowing she wouldn't leave until he did, and said, "I suppose you're going to tuck me in, too, huh?"
Ziva's eyes twinkled. "Perhaps." She waited for him to settle in, then pulled the covers up and smoothed them around him, earning a chuckle from him. She grinned. "Now you try to get some rest and I will be back later with something that will make you feel better."
He threw his head back against his pillow. "You don't have to treat me like a little kid, Ziva. All this is . . . nice, don't get me wrong, but you don't have to baby me."
She continued to run her hands over the comforter and spoke, her words sounding as though he hadn't said anything at all. "I will let myself in, so do not worry about getting up to greet me." She leaned over him then, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Sleep well, Timothy."
She stood up and walked to the door of his bedroom, and McGee watched her walk away, a million things he wanted to say running through his mind, but he remained silent. Maybe when she came back later, he'd tell her everything. Maybe.
Ziva let herself out, locking the door on the way. She couldn't help but feel uneasy about everything that had happened already this morning. She knew there was more to the situation than McGee had told her, but until he felt comfortable telling her what, she would have to content herself with checking on him when she could. Maybe tonight would be a different story. . .