A/N: I typed this ages ago and decided to fix it recently. I think it turned out quite well actually. Please leave a review on the way out. Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: WHAT! I DON"T OWN IT? Duh, I'm in college.
Talk to Someone
Gibbs pulls her aside after the case. It had been a particularly hard one for her. The case itself had brought back many memories from long ago. They came rushing to the surface at the worst moments. She has been fighting them for days now and is finally at her wits end. She hasn't slept, and her energy is running low.
"Talk to someone, Ziva," Gibbs tells her.
"I am fine, Gibbs," she says, but he ignores her statement. He gives her his famous stare that speaks more words than his mouth ever will. Her attempt is much less menacing. Eventually, she breaks eye contact. He walks away from her as she gathers her things to head home. He gives her one more look before she steps into the elevator.
After eating a hasty meal, she collapses into bed. She reads midnight on her clock and still finds sleep elusive. God is she tired. No, she is absolutely exhausted; going this long without sleep puts unnecessary strain on her body that only creates problems at work. She has to find some way to sleep, no matter what that way may be.
She pulls out her cell phone to call Gibbs, but she can't quite dial the number. For once in her life she doesn't want to talk to Gibbs. That thought should disturb her, but she finds that it doesn't. She scrolls through her contacts to reach the name she desires. Hesitantly, she hits the call button and prays he answers.
Tony's phone vibrates on his bed side table and he grumbles. It is way too early/late to take a call. He buries his head in his pillow while his hand searches for the offending object. The buzzing continues for longer than he thinks it should. Something in the back of his mind makes him look at the caller ID. The name only makes him grumble louder.
"We got a case?" he asks her stifling a yawn.
"No," she answers.
"Well, what's up then Ziva?" Tony asks slightly concerned. His mind begins to function clearing the sleepy feeling. His concern sky rockets when there is a long pause on the other end. He wants to say something, but he is too busy quelling the panic that has flared up.
"I can't sleep," she admits quietly. In a rush of words she asks him if she can come over. She just needs some company after a long case. He doesn't have time to answer before she attempts to inform him she is fine. In fact, she insists that she is fine, vehemently.
Somehow though, he manages to convince her that coming over isn't a bad idea. He plays it off as though he is the one having trouble sleeping. He knows that it will be hard for her not to come if he asks. She finds herself outside his door slightly annoyed that he managed to get her to come to him.
Before she can knock, the door opens revealing Tony, barefoot in sweats. He is shirtless and his hair is a mess. It takes all of her self control not to laugh at the way his hair sticks up in random directions. He waves her in with a raised eyebrow. He knows exactly what she is internally laughing about. He shakes his head as he walks back to find a shirt.
She closes the door and slowly makes her way over to his couch. She chooses the end closest to the door so she can leave any time she wants to. He reappears moments later wearing an Ohio State shirt. He settles on the opposite side of the couch. He isn't sure what she wants from him right now, so he leaves it open to almost anything. His arm drapes across the back of the couch offering her physical contact if she wants it, but he is definitely not going to force anything.
"Gibbs told me to talk to someone. I do not need to talk. I need to sleep," she tells him simply. Her hand reaches for a weapon suddenly. She is not wearing her NCIS issue 9mm, so her fingers find the knife she has concealed at her waist. They tap up and down, up and down in a semi soothing manner. It is her way of calming without assistance. It takes a few minutes, but she eventually regains control. That fact in itself speaks volumes to him.
He doesn't speak, only watches as a silent observer to her obvious pain. He had seen the initial signs. It had recently gotten to the point that Abby has begun to worry. He knew she was out of control then. She would never consciously worry Abby. Thankfully, McGee made sure Abby was calm; leaving him the daunting task of making sure Ziva didn't inadvertently kill anyone in her sleep deprived state.
She had been doing fairly well until they found the tortured Lieutenant in the woods. The woman was the same height and build as Ziva, their ages also eerily similar. She interrogated suspects and followed leads like it were any other case, but by the end her strength had left her. He confronted her earlier in the case. She took offense and thought he had been questioning her abilities to work the case. He was too hurt by the accusation to tell her that in reality he was only worried about her.
Yeah, she had made it through the crucial weeks before she came back to the team. Hell, it was a miracle she was alive when they rescued her. She fought through the first year and never looked back. She became an American Citizen and smiled at him when he congratulated her. She forgave him for not being at the ceremony looking none the worse for the betrayal. Her father had been the most recent hurdle and she hadn't even batted an eye at it.
It's funny how one moment can change everything he muses. She is controlling, has to be in order to keep her façade intact. He knows she hides demons and a less than sketchy past. He also knows that she has grown and become less of an assassin and more human. She has feelings but lacks the proper knowledge on how to use them correctly. He sees that her inability to properly handle emotions drove her to him at this late hour. She doesn't want to appear fragile in front of Gibbs because that would mean relinquishing some of her control. It should be some sign of comfort or trust that she chose him. In reality…it scares him to death.
"Why can't you sleep Ziva?" he asks her softly once she stops her comforting movement.
"It is nothing Tony. I should not have come," she states and moves to get up. He grabs her wrist and gently tugs on it conveying the message that he wants her to stay. He should be afraid of her breaking his arm, yet he finds that he is not. She won't hurt him and somewhere deep inside he knows it. She gives his hand a strange look before sitting back down; this time beside him.
She crosses her legs and takes a deep breath. Her fingers begin to twitch and she has to fold them on top of her knee to stop the movement. He is content to wait all night if he has to. She will only talk when she is ready. It won't help either of them if he prods her into speaking. She initially came to him. He can't ignore that fact. For once in his life he finds it more beneficial to keep his mouth shut rather than fill the silence.
"Him, Tony. I keep seeing him," she says trying to brush it off as nothing.
"Who him?" he knows she needs to say it, to get it out. It's going to be hard, but it has to be done. He just hopes they survive the aftermath.
"Saleem," she says so quietly he can barely hear her. She begins the arduous task of recounting details he would rather not hear for the next hour. His arm drifts down to rest across her shoulder. At one point during her retelling, he grips her shoulder roughly. He is seeing red. She stops talking to take in his appearance. He mentally steps back from his own thoughts and focuses on her. She won't talk if she thinks it's too much for him.
"Sorry," he apologizes simply, "continue." She doesn't reprimand him for apologizing, and continues her saga. He is mindful of every move she makes, and he adjusts accordingly. At some points she shies away from his touch, other times her body language asks for it. There is one point where he actually finds her face buried in his chest as she mumbles that part of her story. He can feel her speak against him. It takes all his willpower not to run to the bathroom to lose his dinner once she resurfaces.
"Well it seems that we need to figure out what helped you sleep after you came back. Is there anything that sticks out in your mind?" he asks her. He is fairly sure there is a place or an object that helps remind her that she is where she belongs. She has ways of keeping herself in check and putting her mind at ease. Finding that place or thing again will help all concerned. Once she figures out what it is she can leave. He will then proceed to scream and curse and shred whatever happens to be in his way.
She studies him cautiously, her eyes asking permission for something he cannot define. Almost without thinking, he moves the arm that is draped over her shoulders back to the couch. She doesn't say anything; she only stretches out and allows her head to rest in his lap. He brings his hands down to rest one on her head and the other on her shoulder. She shifts her weight to lie on her back to see him. He leans back letting her know he doesn't plan on moving for the rest of the night.
He knows the minute she is asleep. His head is spinning with the information she has just given him verbally and nonverbally. The images of what she went through replay in his mind like one of his beloved movies. He tightens his grip on her arm, where his hand now lies. He needs to know that she is with him. He wants to feel the muscle that has reformed underneath her soft skin. She whimpers softly as his grip becomes painful. Surprisingly, she doesn't wake. Instead, she moves toward his touch. He gapes at her for a full minute before he gets his mouth closed. Now curious, he gently tightens his grip on her arm. He increases the pressure little by little until the same sound emits from her throat. He body subtly moves toward him once again.
Finally, his thoughts take him to the plane ride two years ago when they brought her back. He was sitting across from her, watching her every move. Gibbs had chosen to sit beside her and truthfully Tony didn't mind. They made one stop to refuel and that was when Gibbs surprised him. He remembers re-boarding the plane and Gibbs sitting in his seat. He looked at Gibbs, confusion written across his features. Gibbs nodded toward the seat the he himself had occupied only a few moments ago.
He took the offered seat ready to get home. He knows he didn't initiate any contact between them, not sure if she wanted it. Suddenly, it clicks. She had been wrapped in a blanket not able to produce enough body heat to keep herself warm on the chilly plane. That had been a sure sign of her condition. He had woken just before they were given the call to hang on. He found her head resting on his lap and she was actually sleeping. She wasn't moving or screaming like she had been earlier on the trip. Gibbs had been able to calm her once she awoke, but Tony somehow managed to while she was asleep.
The next thought hits him like a ton of bricks. He is almost unable to comprehend it. Gibbs had known. The man had probably always known. He is an enigma. He didn't know if Gibbs had inadvertently pushed her here, or if he had known exactly what he was doing. Tony glances at the clock, 4am. He could still get three hours sleep before he has to get up and go to work. She moves a little as he readjusts into a more comfortable position. He squeezes her arm one last time to assure her that he is not leaving. He swears he hears a contented sigh before he finally succumbs to sleep.
