Sometimes, we dream. And sometimes, we have dreams about dreams. Sometimes we have nightmares about things we are scared of. And sometimes, we have nightmares of things that happened.
Saleem cackled. He cackled. Ziva did not know that Saleem cackled. She did not know he laughed. Tony would call him a "little man." She called him an evil man. He punched her face again, and she felt another bruise coming on. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. She felt blood well up in her mouth, and welcomed the wetness to her mouth that was as dry as the desert outside of the walls that imprisoned her. She heard him say, "Ziva, wake up. Ziva!"
Suddenly, she woke up to a cool room. Rain pounded the window outside, and Tony was beside her. "You had another nightmare Ziva. Here, drink this."
It was a glass of water. She drank it as fast as she could, and her throat didn't feel as dry anymore. Tony looked at her with concern. "I am fine Tony. I haven't had a nightmare in months, really."
He smiled his crooked smile. "I know, but I still worry. Will you be all right for work, or do I have to call us in sick and have us spend the day in bed watching corny comedies and have me repeat every line just after it is said and-"
"NO! Really, I will be all right."
"Really, 'cause I think- Oof!"
His retort having successfully cut off by a pillow in his face, Ziva kissed him, then turned off the light. "Good night, my little hairy butt."
He reply being muffled by the pillow, he said, "Night sweetcheeks."