A/N-This is just a reflection on the Tony/Ziva relationship and its growth throughout Season Seven with (for obvious reasons) a bit of a focus on Ziva's character. This piece takes place on the plane ride with Gibbs back from Mexico, taking advantage of the time the flight offered. In a way, I suppose this could be a companion piece to both "Replies of Silence" and "No Strings Attached" as they both relate to Tony and Ziva returning to something normal; this could certainly be seen as a resolution to these two stories. And one other thing: I also used this piece as a means of foreshadowing events that I believe will occur in Season Eight. So please enjoy :)

The beginning of an end started in the jump seat of a C130.

It was the turbulence reverberating through the plane that woke him. For a moment, Tony forgot where he was and began to panic, caught-up in a distant memory concerning an all-too-similar situation. But there was a stirring to his left, a gentle pressure against his side. His heart rate slowed as he turned his head the smallest of fractions and saw Ziva asleep, her head on his shoulder.

He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, taking in her calm face as she slept. He then spent the next few moments concentrating all of his efforts into not moving for fear of waking her. Throughout all of this, he glanced only once across the cargo hold to see if Gibbs' piercing blue eyes were staring back at him. But their fearless leader was silent, apparently resting himself. When he was satisfied that he wouldn't rouse Ziva from her sleep, he pulled their shared blanket closer up to his chest.

Another small bit of turbulence rocked the plane, and he was once again brought back to the fear he had upon waking. It's different this time, he reminded himself, calming his breathing. We are all coming back. Together. It had been a year since that long, painful plane ride back to the States. It had been a year since Ziva stayed behind in Israel, and a year since he had left her in the lions den of her own father. Eli David, the carnivorous beast that would send her to her pseudo death.

With a clench in his chest, he recalled his and Ziva's devastating fallout that had led to such disastrous consequences. He experienced the equivalent of a phantom limb effect as he brought his hand to his left collar bone, feeling the weight of a gun's muzzle pressing into him. Such a destructive chain of events, he thought with regret as he continued to look upon the woman at his side.

He remembered the first time he had seen her after that blank and empty summer. They were both tied to chairs, her face dirty and bruised. He remembered the skeletal quality her entire body had attained, the ghost of life barely visible in her broken eyes. He remembered, with intense disgust, Salim's own face as he sneered at them both. He who had carried out Ziva's own personal Hell over the course of months, dealing her unimaginable doses of physical and mental torture.

And though he was present for its end, Tony still knew almost nothing of what had happened up to that point. His mind jumped to the memory of a dark and quiet warehouse mere months ago. She had come so close then, he sensed it. She had nearly reached the brink of divulging at least some details of her capture.

"You never talk about it..." "What is there to talk about?"

In the moment she had turned away from him, he couldn't prevent his mind from filling in the gaps of his knowledge, imagining the worst. She had kept silent for almost eight months since her return to the United States. And that moment in the middle of a fake bomb-factory was still the closest he had ever come to hearing the truth from her. In some part of his mind, he wanted to know everything. He wanted to know the pain he had caused. He wanted to take responsibility for what he still considered his fault.

Yet, at the same time, he was afraid of knowing anything. He feared the truth of what Salim had done to her during those months of torture. He feared finding out what had happened in that camp in the middle of the Somali desert. It was a dread that gripped him tighter than anything he had ever experienced. And he wished he could go back and change everything.

Still, here she was now, by his side. She was here because they had saved her from more than just pain and torment at the hands of faceless men. They had saved her from an old and damaging way of life. A life that had been built upon death and suffering. Even as she leaned against him, breathing slowly, she was on the cusp of a new existence. Very soon, she will have officially become an American citizen.

In the past year, she had proven herself even more of a tough and capable woman. She was a fighter, a person that had picked herself up and moved on. And they had both picked up the pieces of their broken partnership and created one that was far more powerful than anything they had shared in the past. As he thought of this, he became slightly grateful for the events of the previous summer. Because, though they had both suffered, they had also grown immensely strong in spite of it. And they had entered into a new era of their partnership, one built on incredible sacrifice and trust.

More than anything, he appreciated the gravity and importance of this realization. We're here. Together, he marveled to himself again. So he smiled and finally closed his eyes, slowly falling into a state of deep contentment. He drifted off to sleep once more, unconsciously bringing his head to rest against Ziva's own.

In truth, she hadn't even slept. In the silence that followed their very short conversation with Gibbs, Ziva had merely closed her eyes to think. Eventually, she noticed the change in her partner's breathing, signaling that he had fallen asleep instead. In the quiet lull, the whir of the engines the only sound, Ziva found a relaxing calm and eventually settled her head on Tony's shoulder, a comforting and somewhat familiar position, and a strange peace seemed to settle over her then.

Behind closed eyelids, she allowed her mind to wander, finding memories and thoughts that the plane ride had elicited. The last time she had flown in a C130 was at the end of September, finally leaving that horrific summer behind. She gave an involuntary shudder as she recalled the long-buried memories.

Before these were given a chance to take hold of her, she was gratefully distracted by a bit of turbulence and Tony's consequent awakening. When she heard a sharp intake of breath escape from his chest, she almost opened her eyes to see what was wrong. But he seemed to immediately calm as she felt his head swivel in her direction. After this single action, he did nothing and said nothing.

And, privately, Ziva was happy for this. Because, as he continued to allow her to use him as a human pillow, she was able to leave that dark room behind. And, once more, she fell into a state of calm, allowing her breathing to even as she let herself appreciate the feel of Tony by her side.

A year ago, her father had told her that she would find solace in her homeland. Instead, she had found nothing but misery, which led to even more pain. No. It wasn't in her old country that she found peace. It was here, beside her partner of five years. Over the course of the last eight months, Tony had become a safe harbor for her, a person in whom she had bequeathed an infinite trust. Because he had come for her in her darkest hour. Because he had always had her back. Because she saw in him a warmth and understanding that told her she could finally just stop and breathe.

He anchored her in a way that, previously, only Gibbs had managed. He kept her feet on the ground and gave her the strength that allowed her to lift her head up and pull herself forward. Yet, he had never pushed or pulled her himself. Tony had displayed an amazing patience with her, letting her set her own pace and never forcing the issue of her capture. Ziva knew that she would someday bring herself to open up to him about her experiences. But until then, she will continue to appreciate the space and support that he generously gave her.

And, as the time ticked by in the deepening silence, Ziva allowed her mind to ponder the direction of the life she was now leading. She would probably never reveal this to anyone, but the C130 aircraft had gained a special meaning in her mind. To her, the enormous plane had become a symbol of heading home. It was the craft that had carried her away from her old life all those months ago, and tonight it was bringing her back to NCIS.

Home. Ziva was going home to and with the ones she cared for the most. She smiled to herself as she realized that in a couple days' time, she would officially be able to call it her own. And, before finally succumbing to sleep, she burrowed her head more comfortably into the crook of Tony's neck, the pulse of his heart beat gently easing her into a grateful rest.

Thirty minutes away from Andrews Air Base, Gibbs finally opened his eyes. He had been deep in thought the entire flight, unwilling to allow himself the respite of sleep. He looked up and gave the smallest of smirks at the scene in front of him. His senior field agent and newly probationary field agent sat side-by-side in their jump seats, heads together and fast asleep, their loud snores filling the large empty space.

This is what I have to protect. This is what all of this must be done for. He couldn't (and wouldn't) allow anyone else to be damaged because of what he had done. He smiled sadly upon them as the aircraft hit another pocket of turbulence, shaking the plane once more.

The end of a beginning concluded in two jump seats of a C130.

A/N-Any comments, criticisms, and reviews are always greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoyed the story, and until next time, happy reading!