Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except for four future characters and two of them will play an important role in this fanfic.
I haven't written anything in awhile, and am FINALLY getting this down on paper (file, whatever). I've had this idea since like December, and at first it was very rough and fluffy (still is... fluffy and rough) but it had no proper story line. Just a luglugluglug of random stuff that wasn't very interesting. But now since the development of two characters whom I love very much and talk to a lot in my head (LOL) I can finally write this fanfiction. Enjoy. :)
It was a normal day at the office. Just the five of the Agents, sitting around drumming their fingers on their desks. Paperwork done, cases closed, and secret thoughts running like stampedes through the calm office. But even though the day was posed as normal, the last few weeks for Anthony DiNozzo had not been. He'd noticed a definite change in Ziva's behaviour. He could hardly get a word out of her, she never smiled, and always seemed to avoid contact. Wether it be a stare from Gibbs that said Ziva-if-you-don't-get-back-to-work-I'll-fire-you, or a homicidal hug from Abby, she full on dodged it. It was starting to worry him...
Tony's private thoughts were pulled back down to reality when Gibbs stood up, "We're working on a case with the rest of the Agency. We have put every other case on hold until this has been solved,"
Tony's mouth dropped open, "What is it?" His voice stopped for a moment but he kept speaking, "Why?"
"Because, an NCIS Agent is being abused or in an abusive relationship. We received a tip a few days ago from a phone call," He stood up and clicked something on his key board.
The message began to play, the voice was very muffled and distant. Tony cringed when the message began to play. "The address is 765 Brentwood Street. There is this man who is -."The message ended with a wail and a scream, but Tony had a feeling there was more to it than that.
"As you can see, we haven't been able to match anything, or prove it. But whoever left the call does indeed work for NCIS, as they got through on a very private number. The directors private number actually," Gibbs sat down again and placed a hand on his cheek. He was very stressed about the whole situation.
He looked up, and when he did, his bullpen fell silent. McGee's self-help CD stopped, Tony's music from his video game was reduced to nothing, and Ziva had turned pale and was staring at her computer screen, like she'd just read a chain-mail, instructing her to send it to ten people, or she'd die that night because a creeper would come in her room and stab her. It felt like the air had just turned thick with dust and pollution, making it hard for the Agents to breathe in precious oxygen.
"Stop being so awestruck. We actually figured out who the guy is. His name is Dave Yawtk. We need someone to go in and investigate.." Gibbs exclaimed to his Agents, snapping them out of their freaked-out trance.
"I'll go!" Tony stood up, offering himself for the under-cover job.
"All right, DiNozzo,"
McGee spoke this time, surprising Gibbs, "Can we see what this guy looks like, at the least?"
Gibbs nodded, and stood up. He grabbed the remote and chucked it at McGee, "Do the honours.."
Standing up with weakness chilling his knees that someone would do something like that to an Agent, he clicked the button on the remote. Images of the man began to flash up. He was dark haired, his blue eyes seemed to shine harmlessly along with his good looks. He had no moustache, but a little stubble down on the chin. Ziva instantly looked away from the photo on the screen. Tony's eyes followed her suspiciously.
"DiNozzo, David!" barked Gibbs.
"Yeah Boss?" Tony responded, his gaze on Ziva not breaking.
"DiNozzo, you..." Tony's eyes lit up when Gibbs spoke, hoping he'd get to go home, "Are going to stay here, and get ready to go undercover, and catch this guy in action,"
Ziva's breath quavered and she stood up, getting her things. She slung her jacket over her shoulder. "Ziva!" teased Gibbs, "How did you know I was sending you home?"
"I could... tell..." She slowly walked off into the elevator without a good bye, or even a smile.
*
Tony entered the lonely apartment building which showed signs of obvious abuse of graffiti with obscene words. Tiredly he wandered the many flights of stairs. He reached the appropriate apartment, and knocked twice. The door opened instantly, to reveal the man they'd been trailing. He was wearing a leather jacket with a Ralph Lauren loose fitting white shirt, and navy blue skinny jeans. His shoes made bold statement, as they were high top Chuck Taylor yellow, red polka dotted converse.
He leaned up against his door frame, flashing a smile, "Can I help you?"
"Uhh - just lookin' for an apartment building," Tony answered, looking down at his normal shoes he'd purchased on eBay a few weeks before.
"Well, seems like yeh've wandered to the wrong one," He extended his arm, offering a handshake, "The name's Dave. Wanna come in? I've got drinks,"
Tony accepted the handshake, and noticed that Dave's grip was fairly strong, "Sure,"
Dave entered his apartment building, and Tony followed, closing the door. His apartment looked normal enough. A couch, flat screen TV, messy kitchen with dishes in the sink, and clothes hanging over the dining room chairs which appeared to be unwashed. Dave sat down on his couch, grabbed a beer, placed it on the table, and grabbed another, cracking it open.
He motioned for Tony to sit, "S'yurname?"
"Tyler," He answered quickly, coming up with the perfect undercover name. He sat down, took the unopened beer, and popped it open. The TV was on and playing.
Small talk began to spark, and pretty soon the topic of girlfriends came up. Tony took his chance, and stabbed the question, "Ya got a girlfriend?"
"Yeah. Dude. She's awesome, so pretty,"
Tony was struck by the answer. He didn't seem like the one to abuse someone with that answer like that.
He took another risk, and asked, "What's her name?"
"Not telling. Then you'll steal her," He teased.
Tony grinned and looked up at the TV. He'd just have to try harder next time. The news was now playing, and the time flashed up. Tony had been there for almost three hours! He stood up, placed his beer down on the table. Dave looked up and smiled. "Gotta go?"
"Yeah. See ya later,"
"Yo. You know tomorrow is the hockey game, wanna come over and watch?"
"Sure..."
*
The days continued and turned into weeks, eventually turning into one long, tiring month. Over the period of that month, Tony would go and hang around with Dave, prodding about his girlfriend. One day, Dave said he was busy, and he'd have to cancel his plans to watch football with Tony. When Gibbs heard this, he'd ordered Tony to go to Dave's apartment, and monitor anyone who entered his apartment, and listen in for any girlfriend, or sign of abuse.
That day, Tony was very nervous and spent hours pacing the bullpen. When it came time for him to go, Tony entered the elevator and sped away to Dave's apartment. He stealthily pulled into the lot wishing Ziva was with him but she was out of work. She'd left after getting a call from someone. He opened the car door, and closed it, being careful not to make any noise. Just then it began to rain heavily, blocking out any sign of footsteps or peculiar noises, so he could walk as loudly as he needed to now. Entering the building, he could still hear the pit-pat of rain steadily hitting the rain, showing no signs of mercy for the people of D.C. without an umbrella.
Making his way up the torn and abused stairs, he reached Dave's apartment. He flattened himself against the wall, and listened.
"YOU SILLY JEWISH GIRL!" There was a loud thunk, and a cry of pain. DiNozzo twitched. Dave was indeed violent.
"What ---" He heard a female voice sob, "Have I done now, Dave?"
"YOU'VE BEEN MISSING DATES. YOU ARE STUPID," Another noise. Like she was being slapped.
Tears now cascaded down Tony's cheeks. Why was he crying? He didn't know. All he knew was that no one deserved this. He wiped the tears from his face, and waited for the woman to come out, and then he'd hit Dave across the face. But the woman never came.
"You stay here, darling. I'm going to the store to get some dinner," He heard through the door several minutes later after what sounded like sobbing and begging from the woman.
Tony threw himself into a state of panic. If Dave saw him there, hearing what was going on, he'd probably never see the light of day again. He made a run for the corner, and noticed a random closet, labelled "Cleaning Supplies," Quickly, he dove into it and looked through the window of the closet as Dave passed. He watched him descend down the stairs and into his car. Tony pulled out of the closet and began the short walk back to the apartment. No one was there, but the door was wide open. He decided to be devious, and ninja-rolled into the room. The TV was on, and the apartment looked the same as it usually did, but there was a woman's coat lying across the couch, and the table was set with two plates, knives, and forks.
Suddenly, he heard someone roaring down the hallway and more sobbing, "YOU. STUPID. GIRL. HOW DARE YOU!"
Tony panicked again and made his way out the apartment. It seemed to show mercy, as right across the hall, there was another supplies closet. He dove into it again, just in time to avoid Dave and his mystery girlfriend.
*
"BOSSSSS!" Tony came skidding into the bullpen, his loud voice causing everyone to suddenly stop what they were doing.
"What, DiNozzo?"
"His -- Dave - girlfriend - Jewish," He managed to sputter, out of breath.
"You - you, sure, DiNozzo?"
"Yeah," He quickly explained the rest of the story and Gibbs paced the bullpen.
"Go get Ducky. Call Ziva and tell her to come here right away,"
"Yes Boss!"
About a half hour later Ziva came in to work, her makeup and foundation heavier and applied more darkly than ever. She was wearing a long sleeve black shirt, and skinny jeans. She wore silver ballet flats, and her hair looked slightly ruffled.
"Hey," greeted Tony with a wide, warm smile. He looked up from his paperwork, "You look different. Really nice, actually. Gibbs wants to meet you downstairs,"
"Okay," She nodded, she left without another word.
"Hey Ziver," Gibbs ushered her into a interrogation room. He noticed she avoided contact. "Sorry about this. Directors orders. Wants to interrogate every single, or dating Jewish woman in the building. We have about - well - twenty of them. You're the last one," He turned on his heels, and entered the elevator.
"Hello Ziva," Ducky offered, pulling a chair for her. "Sit down,"
She did so without another word, or smile. "Thank you,"
"Now, just pretend this is a normal conversation,"
"Okay...?"
"It will be fine, don't worry," Ducky chuckled, his wrinkles creasing as he smiled.
"How are you, Ducky?"
"I'm fine, Ziva. You look different today,"
"How?" She asked, twitching in her seat.
"Well - heavier makeup. You seem to be wearing long pants and shirts more often,"
"Oh, well. I just prefer it. After all I do not live in the desert anymore, and I like the luxury of wearing more makeup as it doesn't run in the heat, and long pants and shirts, as I don't need to worry about breaking into a sweat while working,"
"Ahhh. I see," Ducky reached across the table, and Ziva put her hands into her lap. She avoided his soft gaze and looked down at her shoes, which had a large, fake plastic diamond glued onto the front of each shoe. Ducky decided to do a simple test, "Stand up,"
Ziva did instantly as she was asked, and no questions as to why, either.
"Sit down," She did as she was asked. Ducky moved his chair beside Ziva's and he smiled as she moved her chair away from his as she turned her head away from him, "What is bothering you, my dear?"
He saw her flinch as he said those words, "Nothing is wrong, Ducky."
"You seem rather quiet, which is unusual,"
"It is not," She tried to correct him.
"Thank you Ziva. You may leave," She stood up, and practically ran out of the room, almost as if she was on the verge of tears.
*
Gibbs made his way down to autopsy and asked chucking his cup into the garbage, "So, what did you get from the interview?"
"Well," Ducky's smile turned grim as he faced Gibbs, "Ziva is either facing more abuse, or some serious trauma from after Somalia. In other words, very serious post-traumatic-stress-disorder,"
"What is it likely?"
"More abuse. She avoided my gaze, did as I asked without question, and avoided any touch or close contact. She got rather defensive about her new look, too. And - she was the only woman wearing long sleeves, and wearing heavy, dark foundation on her cheeks,"
"Your point?"
"She is most likely the girl being abused by this Dave person, but she will deny it. She is like a small child, being threatened to be hurt even more if she tells,"
"Should we send DiNozzo back undercover when Ziva leaves suddenly?"
"Oh yes, very good idea,"
Two Weeks Later
Tony stepped outside his car, and checked for Ziva's car, it wasn't there. Heaving a sigh, he quickly made his way back into the building, the cigar smoke filling his lungs. He coughed once or twice, but continued on his way. The door was wide open, and there was Ziva, being slapped over and over again by Dave. Tony's teeth clenched and he began to seethe with anger on the spot. Fume literally almost bursting out of his ears, he dove towards Dave and knocked him to the ground. Ziva screamed and backed into the corner of the apartment, knocking over the TV and a lamp as she did so.
The fight continued on as Dave managed to pull himself away from Tony. He managed to get into the kitchen before Tony dove for his legs, and securing his arms around them. Dave fell to the ground with Tony. He swung his leg into Tony's face, dazing him for a second. Scrambling away from him, he grabbed a chair and heaved it up into the air.
"DAVE. NO. PLEASE. TOONY!" Ziva yelled, dashing into the kitchen in effort to save Tony, who was curled helplessly into a ball on the tile floor.
Dave, now seething with anger too, threw the chair at Ziva, who ducked as the chair crashed into the living room, splintering into pieces along with the coffee table.
"Ziva, RUN!" Ordered Tony as he grabbed the leg of chair and hurling it at Dave. "This is my fight!" He managed to say as they both ducked an oncoming beer bottle. Ziva needed no further instruction. She flew down the stairs, praying Tony would live.
Reaching for his gun, he realized it wasn't there as Dave shoved him into the counters with a punch to the face. It was painful as he did it over and over again. Tony just managed to squirm free just as another punch reached his face. Managing to reach up into the cupboard, he grabbed several plates. He heaved one at Dave as he backed away, grabbing another leg of the broken chair. It missed. Another. Miss again. Tony had to get him mad. Mad enough for Dave to charge at him. He began hurling insults with such foul words one could not describe. He looked around for any clues to his religion, or race. Realizing he was Christian, Tony began to spit more insults. Dave raged with anger, and charged at Tony. Doing what he planned to do, he swung his arm across the heartless man's face. He heard a simple snap, and blood began to gush like a river out of his nose onto the floor. Tony chucked a plate, this time, it didn't miss. It crashed on his face, and Dave toppled back into the fridge. He mumbled and groaned as he fell to the floor face first. Tony debated whether or not to smash his face in again, but decided one more plate would do. He dropped the plate simply on Dave's face, and it crashed again, breaking more easily than before. Dragging him onto the couch, Tony tied his legs together and spat in his face before leaving him.
*
Sitting at the broken sight before him, Gibbs sighed. Ziva was sitting at her desk, her chest rising and falling almost as if she was using massive effort to breathe. Tony had his eyes fixed intently on Ziva as he massaged a black cheek and eye. Gibbs rose and walked fluidly to Tony's desk and placed a small, white cup in front of Tony. He gazed down into it. He could just see the outline of his face in the steaming substance. Lifting it carefully, Tony tipped it back into his mouth. He could feel the caffeine reach his mouth and run through his weak veins, and calm his clouded mind. He took another sip, bigger than the last. He felt the scalding liquid scratch his throat, but he didn't care. Hoping for more, he went to finish it, but he'd finished the cup. He placed the Styrofoam cup down in front of him and looked up at Ziva once more.
Her head was now in her arms, her hair flung everywhere on her desk. Her makeup was probably smeared, and her slightly rolled up sleeves showed black and blue bruises which had obviously caused her a lot of pain. Tony noticed she was -- convulsing almost. Immediately becoming worried, he stood up and moved towards her and he listened intently, blocking out every sound bouncing around in the building. She was sobbing. Loudly. Placing a hand carefully on her desk, he looked up at Gibbs who got the message and removed himself from the bullpen rather quickly.
"Ziva..." Her name came out with compassion and a concerned tone.
She did not answer, but rather she kept sobbing, and tightened her arms around her body. Tony could now clearly see the bruises that lined her arms, and her back. Shuddering with disgust at the welts that covered her body, he spoke again, his expression unmoving, "Ziva,"
She looked up surprising him. Tony assumptions were right, makeup covering her face and fears fully with black streaks. Her eyes were blood-shot and her eyes were swimming in tears, "What?"
He looked down when she rudely shot out the question, "I know - this - is - stupid to ask ? I have friendscomingtowatchwithme,"
"Well," she choked back tears and a large sob, "I guess it's better than being stalked out by my ex, so... okay,"
Her mediocre sense of humour was not making the situation any easier for Tony at all. Pain shot viciously through him when she tried to use her sense of humour which was limp and weak.
"You want to get yourself cleaned up before we go?" He asked carefully, not reaching a whisper.
Her voice was feeble, "That would be wise," She stood up and walked shakily to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and looked in the mirror. She looked like crap, felt like it, and probably smelt like it too. She ran the hot water into the sink, and squirted floral-y smelling soap into the foaming water. The water gurgled and swished. Placing her hands into the water, she noticed it's heat intensity but didn't flinch like she normally would have. Making small cracks in her cradled hands, she felt the water seep through into the cradle. Running the simple mixture over her face, she felt the relief of the simple goodness. It removed her ruined mascara, eyeliner, and blush. But it did not remove her fears and scars of abuse.
Little did she know, there would soon be one person who could erase her fears with grace and love.
I will be writing more, but I just want to see what you guys think. There may be some mistakes and flaws, I know. The two characters whom I love very much will be coming into play VERY soon. I'll give you a hint on one of them: her name is Bonnie, she's from Texas along with an accent, bubbly, and has bright Ron-Weasly-like red hair... and she plays a very important role with another woman who will help Ziva in her quest and journey to emotional and physical repair.