It wasn't like Tony DiNozzo to fall asleep in front of his favorite James Bond movie, but tonight, he couldn't help it. The past couple days had been stressful and tiring, with Franks and the Port-to-Port killer and Ziva missing…
A cold chill crept down Tony's spine at the memory, but he quickly dismissed it. Shut up, DiNozzo. She's okay now.
He directed his thoughts elsewhere and closed his eyes; he was just about to slip into sleep when a loud, insistent knocking at his door made him nearly fall off the couch.
"What the hell?" he muttered to himself, glancing at the clock as he stumbled by it. "It's eleven at night!" When he reached the front door, he looked out through the peep hole, and his annoyance immediately evaporated.
Tony unlocked the door and flung it open, stepping aside so Ziva could come in. "Hey! What's up?"
She avoided his gaze as she entered the apartment and slowly walked into the living room area, hovering near the couch but not sitting down. "Nothing."
"Well, obviously something is." He walked over to her and watched her face carefully. After her breakdown in the elevator the other day, Tony had kept a close eye on her, and he knew that something was bothering her now. "Hey. What's wrong?"
Ziva shook her head and pressed the palm of one hand into her eye. "I don't- I don't know, Tony. I can't deal with anything anymore. I was held as a decoy yesterday." Tony's heart dropped, and he feared he was about to see this seemingly invincible woman break again. "Just a decoy. No torture or pain was inflicted on me after I was bound and gagged, and yet I had panic attacks while I waited for you to find me. Before… Somalia, I never would have been so… terrified in that situation. I have become so weak."
"You are not weak," Tony said, harsher than he meant to. "You are so far from weak, Ziva. The fact that you're here to tell about that terrorist camp proves it."
Finally, she raised her head and looked at him, and the tears shining in her eyes broke his heart. He sat down on the couch and patted his knee.
"What?" she asked in a confused, shaky voice.
"Come here."
She wrinkled her nose, and she almost looked like her usual self. Almost. "You want me to sit on you?"
"If you're going to make a habit of opening up to me, I'm going to make a habit of comforting you. Now sit down."
Ziva still refused to sit on his lap, but she did gingerly lower herself onto the couch beside him, and she sat close enough that their hips touched. She let Tony put his arm around her and whisper into her hair, "You can cry, Ziva."
For a few long moments, no further sound came from her. Then a strangled sound came from her throat, and Tony felt warm liquid on his neck.
She cried. For the second time in her life, Ziva David cried in front of Tony, and when her eyes dried up, he didn't tease her. He didn't try to make a joke. All he did was lift the bottom of his T-shirt and use it to blot at her tear-stained face.
"Anytime you need me," he said, softly and seriously. "Anytime. I'm here. You realize by now that you're not alone, right?"
"Yes," she said, leaning into his hand a little. "Yes. I do."
I am not happy with this at all, but I stayed up late last night to finish it, so I'm posting it. Please review :) Thanks for reading!