This came out of no where yesterday. Thanks to Mecha, as per usual. Review on your way out. xo.
"Ziva," Roy groaned, his face only inches from hers. Ziva captured his lips. They were in her bed. He was alive and sturdy and hers. He got heavier, suddenly. His eyes closed, his breathing shallow.
"Roy?" Ziva panicked, but found her arms paralyzed. He collapsed on top of her. She knew, somehow, that he was no longer breathing. She needed to roll him, to get out from under him, to perform CPR, but he was an anvil on her chest, weighing her down, down. She struggled under him, and then Tony was there, wearing a mask and scrubs. She was dying, too, she realized, and fought harder. She could hardly breathe. Her vision darkened, her panic heightening.
"We're here," Tony kept saying. Why wouldn't he help her? "Ziva, we're here…"
Ziva gasped and opened her eyes, heart pounding. They were parked outside her apartment building. Tony watched her carefully from the drivers seat, and her face burned.
"You fell asleep," he offered.
Ziva took a shaky breath and ran her fingers through her hair. "It has been a long few days," she admitted.
Tony nodded in agreement. "Want me to stick around? We could order food, watch a movie?"
She almost accepted his offer, almost let him inside so he could distract her from her sore, broken heart, but then his phone rang—his other phone. Tony looked at the display and winced. He nearly answered it—he probably would have, signaled one minute with a finger in the air, but Ziva unbuckled her seatbelt, her mind made up. "I am fine," she said, and opened the passenger door, hefting her go bag over her shoulder. Tony stared at her, half hurt, half confused. He opened his mouth to protest, but Ziva walked away. "Thank you for the ride".
She left him there, engine running. "I am fine," she repeated. "I am fine."