They sit in his living room. She watches the movie, he watches her. She says nothing, but her eyes don't shut up. He pauses the movie, forcing her to look at her.

"What's bothering you?"

"Nothing," she lies.

"You can't lie to me."

"You don't want to know."

"I want to know."

"No."

"Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

"Yes it can."

"Talking about it, might make you feel better."

"I sincerely doubt it."

"Just tell me," he begs.

"I am not..."

"Emotionless? I know that. Ziva I see how much things bother you, even when no one else does."

"You don't see everything."

"Is this about Somalia?"

She nods.

"You can tell me," he says softly.

"I..."

He fills in the blanks, "You do not like feeling powerless."

She nods.

"You are no ones victim," he adds.

The tears fill her eyes. She looks at him, her chin quivers. He pulls her into his arms. "It's ok," he promises.

She shakes her head, "None of it is ok. I have made a lot of mistakes in my life. I have done things that I am not proud of, but I never thought that..."

"That what?"

"Nothing," she lies.

"Tell me," he insists.

"I felt like I deserved it, for all of the wrong things I had done."

"No one deserves that."

"You never asked me."

"I wasn't going to dig up things that you wanted to keep buried."

"But you knew? How?"

"The look in your eyes. When I saw you, I saw it."

"You don't know everything."

"Why are you still carrying this around?"

"I can't make it go away," she admits.

"Why not?"

"I have never been selfless, I have never been someone with good enough principles..."

"Ziva, what is eating at you? I know that Somalia isn't the only thing."

"It's what happened after Somalia," she admits.

"What happened after Somalia?"

"I'm used to taking lives, to not thinking twice about it, but this was different. I made a decision, that... what if it was the wrong decision?"

"What decision? What did you do?"

"I just couldn't think about what would happen if I didn't. I don't know if monsters are born, or if they are created, but I couldn't..." she rambles.

"Couldn't what?"

"Take the chance. Scars, they are reminder enough."

"Ziva..." he says softly.

"It is one thing to have your dignity taken from you, but..."

"Tell me," he coaxes.

"When I came home, I hoped that I could put Somalia behind me."

"But you dreamt about it every night?"

"Every night I would wake up screaming, afraid that I would be back there. I was afraid that no one could save me..."

"You're safe now."

"I know that. I got to the point where I was afraid to go to sleep, I didn't want to go back there. After a while, I realized that I didn't have to go to sleep to be in the middle of a nightmare. My life was turning into a nightmare."

"Slow down."

"I did what I thought that I should, but I don't if it was right or not."

"If what was right? What did you do?"

"I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. I didn't want to tell anyone, I was too ashamed. I am not used to feeling broken."

"Ziva what happened?"

"What if I was wrong? What if..."

"Just tell me?"

"I thought the scars would be the only souvenir that I was going to bring home from Somalia."

"They weren't?"

"No. I didn't need a reminder. I didn't need to relive that Hell every day for the rest of my life."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"There was nothing you could have done."

"You still could have told me. Tell me now."

"Every day for an entire week..." she looks away.

"It's ok, you can tell me," he reassures her.

"Each day was worse than the one before. On the seventh day I considered taking his gun, and shooting myself, just to get out of it. He thought that I would tell him what he wanted to know, but I wouldn't. I kept praying he would stop. Then I prayed that I would just die. I couldn't stop it," she cries, "I tried, but I couldn't stop it."

"But it did stop."

"Only because you showed up. Who knows how long it would have gone on, if you hadn't. I've never needed a knight and shining armor. I've never needed anyone to save me before."

"Sometimes when we face our worse fears, we have to have someone to be there."

"I should have told you, you would have known the right thing to do."

"Right thing to do?" he repeats back to her.

"I thought that if I went through with it, it would be just like being back there. It would be like being captured alive, and rendered helpless. I didn't want to become numb, and bitter."

"Ziva I don't understand."

"I didn't want to stare at the face of my aggressor everyday for the rest of my life."

Without thinking he mutters, "The spawn of Satan."

She nods, "That's how I felt," she admits.

"What are you telling me?"

"What you think that I'm telling you."

"Ziva no one should ever have to live what you lived through. No one should ever have to stare at the face of a child, no matter how innocent, that reminds you of your torturer. That is cruel and unusual punishment."

"What if I was wrong?"

"You weren't. You did the right thing."

"So why do I feel so bad about it?"

"Because in the back of your mind you wonder if you could have made a difference."

"What if I could have?"

"I don't think that you could have. I have a lot of faith in you, but you would have been condemning yourself, and it too."