Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Author's Note: This story is set within the episode "Truth or Consequences" and consists of what I imagine the plane ride back from Somalia was like.
Unbreakable
Ziva would never be anyone's angel. She was cold and distant and unforgiving. She was a killer, through and through. If she was an angel, she was the Angel of Death. But he couldn't live without her, he had been forced to admit that much under the power of Saleem's truth serum. Tony glanced around the cargo plane, and tried not to look at the woman who was sitting next to him in the C-130 Hercules. Gibbs was fast asleep across from him, dusty from the desert winds, sniper rifle tucked under his arm. McGee sat next to Gibbs, looking timidly at Ziva, and Tony could see his own worry reflected in the eyes of his friend.
Tony felt Ziva sagging next to him, resting some of her weight on his shoulder. He turned sharply to look at her, surprised at her display of fragility.
"I apologize, Tony," she said wearily. "I have not slept in many days."
Tony swallowed hard. It was difficult to see her like this, so beaten down and passive. Her normally beautiful hair hung around her tired face in knots, and her delicate lips were cracked and bleeding. He could see that she was exhausted but trying her hardest to resist sleep. Tony sighed to himself, it was a fifteen hour plane ride.
Seven hours in and Ziva had begun to reach her limit. Tony watched, amused, as her head drooped and her chin fell towards her chest. She jerked up abruptly her eyes wide, but began to fall asleep again the next moment. He couldn't help himself, he snorted in laughter. When she met his laughing gaze with a glare he saw a spark of the old Ziva in her eyes. She looked away quickly.
"I am lodging bullets," she said very quietly before she laid her head on his shoulder.
"Dodging bullets," Tony whispered. But she was already asleep.
Tony bit his lip and stiffened. Ziva had been asleep on his shoulder for two hours, and now she was alluringly close to his neck. Her nose rested just under his left earlobe, and her breath came out softly, warming his skin. Tony clenched his teeth as she sighed in his ear. Across from him, McGee grinned, enjoying the sight of his colleague in an uncomfortable situation. Tony had been undercover several times with Ziva, he had seen her naked, kissed her pink mouth, felt her weight on top of him, but somehow this felt much more intimate and much more real.
It was dark in the plane and despite the noise of the plane's engines and the hard, cold, metal seat that he occupied, Tony could feel his body responding to the ordeal of being captured and interrogated. He let his eyes close.
Tony awoke to moisture on his neck. He glanced down at the sleeping Ziva, his eyes darkening with worry. Tears dripped down her dirty cheeks and on to his skin, his fearless ninja was crying in her sleep.
McGee stirred on the opposite side of the plane, but Tony kept looking at Ziva.
"They broke her," McGee said softly.
"No," Tony said. "They might have tortured her, put her through hell, done the unimaginable, but they didn't break her. She's stronger than that, stronger than them."
He watched her as the team rode the elevator into the bullpen at head quarters. She looked more rested, but her eyes were hollow. She stared straight ahead, as though afraid to look any of them in the eye. The elevator dinged and they all walked out to a round of applause from the director and the staff. Tony flopped down in his desk as Abby took Ziva in her arms.
She was looking at him, really looking, for the first time since they had dragged her out of that god forsaken war zone. Her eyes had always spoken to him more than the others. She was lost, hurt, confused, but he would always be there to find her. Ziva was his Angel of Death, his beautiful ninja, and she was unbreakable.