So this is another one of my stories! Again it is going to be a little personal but it is a standalone story. I am not committing to a long story or a one shot. I really should be finishing up I Wouldn't Ask if I Didn't Care, but here I am doing this story... Please review and tell me what I should do with this story. I could probably do more or leave it but COMMENT!
I own nothing except my insanity and even that is variable.
Ziva padded down the stairs to the basement. She knew what time it was, she knew that Gibbs knew she was here as soon as she had stepped inside and she knew that he would let her pick the topic which was comforting and terrifying all at once. The smell of freshly cut wood swirled around her like the cool air of the basement, washing her senses into a lower state. She focused only on the staircase in front of her and only when she reached the bottom did she allow her eyes to look around. The room was dark as usual, the only lighting being in the center of the room over the work bench. Gibbs was hunched over something that Ziva could not quite recognize yet, chiseling away, sending perfect spirals of pale wood cascading to the floor. She rubbed the arm of her leather jacket in an attempt to console herself, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Focusing again only on her feet, she slowly and carefully moved one to place it in front of the other. Gibbs only turned to face her when she was standing right in front him.
"Ziva." It was not pressure or a question, it just was. She shifted, still looking at her feet. Her mouth opened and then shut, as she bit her lip unsure what to say. Her arms were shaking with the effort it was taking her, her knees weak.
"Speak to me Zivers." Gibbs pressed gently. Finally she looked up and met his eyes. Gibbs was met with the dark Ziva, the one who hid in the dark corners and skirted through shadows, chasing ghosts and falling into dark caverns.
"I cannot feel anything Gibbs." She stuttered all at once. "I do not cry, I do not sleep, I am stuck here in this- this place." She gestured wildly with her hands. Gibbs watched as her shoulders quivered.
"I do not love anything anymore, I cannot feel anything but this hurt Gibbs, I am numb, I am nothing." Ziva spoke her voice quiet. Her knees trembled. "I am empty." She stared at her feet again. She felt Gibbs cup her jaw in his hands, drawing her head up and her eyes to look into his.
"Ziva, you are alive." Gibbs whispered, his voice urgent, and pulled her into an embrace, her knees weak, Ziva felt the exhaustion pull her down and she hoped would be there to catch her when she fell, but she could not take the trapped feeling of contact so she pulled away. Gibbs released her, holding her out at arm s length looking her up and down.
"Jesus Ziver, how much weight did you lose?"
"In- in Somalia?" Ziva stammered. "A- a lot." She muttered. Gibbs put it off to her needing to take it slow, acclimate to the changes in food. Ziva walked back to the base of the staircase and sat. Gibbs started to work again. When he looked up again, Ziva was tracing a spot with her finger on the concrete flooring.
"Ziva, don't." He knew where her mind was going. She looked up at him, and pulled her hand back. Gibbs saw no emotion anywhere in her murky brown orbs, it scared him.
"Stay here tonight Zivers, it might do you good." Ziva nodded distantly and leaned back against the walk, turning her body so she was parallel to the rest of the steps. Gibbs looked back down at his work and when the time came that he had to stop and rub his eyes, he noticed that Ziva was sound asleep in the same position. Smiling to himself he carefully made his way over and draped her arm over his neck as he supported her with the other hand around her waist; he slowly maneuvered her up the stairs and to the awaiting couch. When he laid her into an appealingly comfortable position, he gently brushed the hair away from her face, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head. Then he himself went to bed.
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The next morning Gibbs readied himself early in the kitchen making breakfast for both him and Ziva. Eggs. As he placed her plate on the table, she appeared. Gibbs returned with his plate and Ziva mirrored his actions by sitting down herself. Gibbs took a few bites and Gibbs noticed how oddly she was biting her fork and pulling her lips away from all food. He noted the behavior but did not say anything about it, deciding to do some research later about it.
"Take the day off Ziva." He said as he finished his plate and stood. He had completely expected an argument but no protest came. Surprised and unnerved, Gibbs left for NCIS.
Once there, Gibbs made his way down to find Ducky.
"Hey Duck." He paused unsure how to ask.
"What is troubling you Jethro?" Ducky said and moved across the room, concerned.
"What are the signs on anorexia?" Gibbs hurriedly asked and Ducky gave him a strange look.
"It's Ziva isn't it?"
"She's lost a lot of weight Duck, and when she eats the food doesn't touch her lips, only her teeth." Gibbs was hoping he was wrong, he could see in Ducky's face that he wasn't. "Jeesh Duck, how do we fix it?" Gibbs asked.
"I'm afraid that's up to Ziva, she needs to control whatever is her trigger herself, but my dear Jethro, support can be a huge factor as to how this will play out." Ducky said and Gibbs nodded and left autopsy. Once at his desk, Gibbs was surprised to see McGee and Tony already settled and working quietly on paperwork.
"Hey boss, you see Ziva?" It was McGee.
"Yeah, she's taking the day off." Gibbs replied, shutting down the conversation, but Tony wouldn't hear of it. These two could practically smell when something was wrong pertaining to Ziva.
"Ziva never gets sick." Tony piped in. Gibbs glared.
"I didn't say she was sick Dinozzo, I said she was taking the day off." Gibbs snapped and knew he had just instilled worry into the other two agents. If there was anything Ziva David did not do, it was 'take a day off'. Tony gave a good long glance at Gibbs before returning to his work.
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After a long day of pushing paperwork and catching up on weeks of case work needing to be done, Gibbs sighed a breath of relief when he stepped into his apartment. He found Ziva in the kitchen doing the dishes.
"Dinner is on the table." She spoke softly over her shoulder. "It's still hot." Surprised, Gibbs sat, contemplatively and slowly eating his food in silence. Ziva was still busy washing dishes when he finished. He stood and went to scrape the sauce off his plate into the garbage when he noticed the remnants of Ziva's breakfast on the top of the pile. He paused.
"Ziva, how much have you eaten today?" He listened to her freeze, all movement in the house ceasing.
"I had breakfast; I guess I forgot about lunch." She lied.
"Ziva-"
"Gibbs, I am fine, I appreciate your help but I should get back to my place." She still had the same emotionless manner.
"Like hell you are." Gibbs said and put his dishes in the water, pushing Ziva aside and taking over washing himself. He noticed that the same pan was in the water then when he had stepped inside. It was perfectly clean and he supposed it had been for a while now.
"I'm here Ziva." He said.
"Yes, Gibbs, I can see you."
"No Ziva, I am here." He said and he knew she understood by the way her head bowed.
"I am fine Gibbs. Much better actually." She persuaded. Gibbs didn't buy it. It was only later that night that Gibbs saw Ziva start to doubt it.
They were sitting watching TV when Ziva experienced one of her triggers. The room melded into her prison. Gut churning in fear, Ziva cowered in the corner. She heard footsteps laden with heavy boots outside her door.
"No." She tried to stop the inevitable, childish really. "No." She tried pushing herself out of the middle of the cell but something was stopping and as she looked down she was in a chair, bound. "No!" She called again, fighting what she could not control. She fought against the ropes but she knew it would do no good. The door opened and a figure in black hesitated, calling her name.
"Ziva!" Her vision flicked and it was Gibbs holding her wrists, kneeling in front of her. Embarrassed, she gently pulled her arms away but he held on, looking into her eyes. She was still deadpan. Then her eyes met his and something snapped and he watched her gasp, pain filling her eyes.
"What Zi?" He called, and her eyes desperately searched his.
"Oh god, I can feel again." Tears blossomed in her eyes. He stared for a moment and she curled in on herself, the reality of what happened crashing around her. He pulled her close; it had only been a week since they hauled her out of Somalia. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head in an attempt to console her. Sobs shook her body, but her pain was too great for any noise to escape. He held her impossibly tight to him, holding her, making sure she felt the rock that wasn't going to let her let go. Tears formed in his own eyes as he felt her pain, watched her struggle, but they did not fall.
Gibbs heard footsteps behind him and looked up. Tony stood mouth agape in the doorway.
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