This was a request that I was happy to oblige in the midst of a study break.
Good luck to everyone facing exams right now!
jae
She isn't sure when the dream slowly morphs into the nightmare.
She knows when it's about to happen though; Her mind becomes muddled, the taste of dust and sand stirs in her throat, a heavy weight settles over her, and she tries to shake it off, quickly; thrashes, kicks, before the nightmare claims her – but it's too late….
She doesn't hear his voice anymore. But she can't forget the sound of his footsteps, the echo of the cell door slamming shut. She knows she has to hurry and warn someone, but she can't remember who -
Suddenly her vision clears. He's holding a burlap sack, her head stinging from the hair being yanked by the force.
Tony's face appears, a beacon in the dark.
She tries to say something, anything to warn him. Why is he here? He's smiling, his mouth is moving, and she has to blink hard to concentrate on the words his lips form.
Take them and go, it will be okay.
She blinks harshly. Suddenly her hands are free and she's standing across the room. She sees Tony, tied and bound now, and a shadow looms closer…
Ziva, hurry! You have to get them out of here. Get them out!
She's so confused, tries to reach for him. For Tony.
Why is he yelling?
His face is anguished now, but his eyes are no longer on her. They're on something, someone, behind her. But Ziva can do nothing but watch as Saleem's face appears from the shadows. He's getting farther and farther away, screaming.
Go, Ziva! Get them out of here!
Ziva starts running toward him but the darkness is quickly swallowing him up. From behind her, she hears new voices, a tugging at her hand.
Mommy? Mom?
Mom!
"Mom."
Ziva thrashes awake. Moonlight glows beyond a window, illuminating the bedroom with its eery glow. Her heart races as she slowly comes to reality; she counts her breaths as her mind returns to her darkened bedroom in D.C.
Pressure to her hand causes her to blink harshly, and she becomes aware of the tears in her eyes and trailing down her cheeks as she wipes furiously at them and jerks to look around at her bedside. Immediately, she relaxes.
"It happened again, didn't it?"
Ziva blinks back at her seven year old son, his face troubled yet calm in the glow of the moonlight. She sighs, urging her breathing to return to normal, and settles back against her pillow. "Did I wake you, neshomehleh?"
He shakes his head, though his eyes say otherwise, moving closer to her bedside to place his hand on her arm. Her heart pangs as she realizes he'd kept his distance until he knew she had begun to return from the nightmare. He was too much like both of them for his own good.
"I was just gettin' a glass of -" He starts, but a smaller voice interrupts him.
"Jack?"
The pair turn toward the bedroom door, where a small figure looms in the shadow, clinging to the doorknob. Her voice is muffled, whether it from the mass of curls tangled from sleep over her face, or for the thumb pressed to her mouth. The boy makes to move, letting his hand fall from Ziva. "Sorry, Tali." His voice laden with regret. He leaves Ziva's side to go toward the door's entrance and grasp the young toddler's hand. "I forgot about your water."
The little girl doesn't seem perturbed. She allows the boy to grasp her hand, her other never leaving her mouth. She looks across the room at Ziva curiously. "Mommy 'kay?" She tugs at the boy's hand, dragging him toward the end of the bed to get a closer look at her mother.
Ziva drags a tired hand through her hair, breathing deeply as her heart rate begins to return to normal. She tries to smile reassuringly as her son seems to hesitate, but as the toddler starts to struggle with climbing up onto the bed, he makes an effort to help her even as the little girl admonishes his assistance, slapping lightly at his hands as he hoists her up over the sheets. Ziva breathes a quiet laugh as her son shakes his head at his sister's independence, before climbing up onto the bed with much more grace.
Ziva opens her arms for the little girl, who wastes no time snuggling against her chest, patting her gently with a small, chubby hand. She turns a sleepy face up to her, curious brown eyes penetrating even in the darkness. "No more sleepin' 'gain?"
Ziva smiles into her daughter's curls, kissing the top of her head as her son's weight settles beside her unimposing. While Tali craved physical affection, Jack had only ever needed assurance of her presence to feel at ease. "Mommy has not been sleeping well, has she?" She murmurs in acknowledgement, but not elaborating further, more curious to hear their reasoning for her restlessness of late. She knew this was not the first time her nightmares had awoken her son; in the past few weeks, she'd found him observing her carefully over breakfast, sneaking guarded looks at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Anger flashes through her suddenly and just as swiftly disappears. She hates how her mind has conjured her children into her old nightmare.
She feels her son shift beside her, while the little girl nods against her chest in agreement. Her eyelids flutter with sleep. "Mmmm." She hums. "Stayn' up?"
Ziva laughs, shifting the little girl into a more comfortable position, while her son delivers an eye roll to the ceiling. "Tali, you're barely awaked." He says in his overly big brother-like tone. The little girl shakes her head weakly.
"No-uh." She slurs, even as her eyes close. Ziva hums against her hair.
"Would you like mommy to take you back to your bed, hmm?" She asks softly, though she is sure she knows what the answer will be. Since Tony's leave, the little girl had become a frequent visitor, arriving inevitably at her bedside like clockwork in the middle of the night.
"No, stay wif momma." Tali sighs, and Ziva acquiesces, settling back into the bed and shifting her to rest against her side. Her arm immediately slings over her chest, anchoring their with more strength than a four year old should possess.
Ziva listens to her breathing evening out, aware that her son beside her is still wide awake, even though he had made to settle in the sheets beside her some time ago. She waits him out though, and her patience is soon rewarded.
"Do they happen 'cause Dad's not here?"
Ziva's hand pauses stroking the little girl's head, her fingers stilling the tangled curls. She gives the sleeping girl's face a final, wistful glance, then turns to face her son. His face is solemn, but not scared. Curious, but not condemning. She reaches over to tuck a wisp of unruly hair behind his ear, thinking absently it was about time for another haircut. Tony usually took him.
Tony.
Sighing, she gives him a self-aware smile. "Perhaps." She murmurs, inviting him to speak his mind. "What do you think?"
His face grows thoughtful, eyes pulling together in concentration the very way her partner's do. She smiles, and it seems to encourage him.
"I think when dad's here, he makes us all better." He says at last, choosing his words carefully.
Ziva chuckles, nodding, causing her son's lips to curl up in a satisfied smile. "I think you are right." She reaches over to cup his cheek. "You are very wise for a six year old, Jackson DiNozzo."
He rolls his eyes theatrically and throws up his arms, groaning at what seems to be a tired joke. "Mom, I'm seven now, remember?" Ziva's eyes shine with amusement, but honeys her tone with surprise. "Is that true?" Her fingers trail down his stomach, causing him to squirm with laughter as she tickles him where she knows are his weak spots.
"Yes, you were there, remember?" He says breathlessly, in-between giggles. "We had my party at Uncle Gibbs'. Aunt Abby made my cake."
She pauses her assault, allowing his breathing return to normal. He rolls toward her, letting her arm wind around his body to pull the sheets around him. "Oh, yes." She pretends to recall suddenly, pressing a kiss to his head. He snuggled closer, closing his eyes as he listens to her heart beat beneath his ear. A part of Ziva's heart melts a little, and the last vestiges of her nightmare leave her.
She scratches her nails lightly down his back. "I just like to pretend you will stay my little boy forever." She watches as he smirks, though his eyes remain close.
"I'll always be your little boy, mom." He sighs against her chest. "But dad says I have to be your big boy." He swallows roughly, cracking an eye to look at her and point his thumb to his chest. "'cause he's away. And you need your boys to look after you."
Ziva laughs aloud, pulling him tighter against her. "Oh really? Did your father say that?" She can see sleep working to claim him, as he yawns out against her chest.
"No, Uncle Gibbs."
Ziva warms at his words.
There had been a time not all that long ago, where embarrassment for her dreams would have left her with the feeling of shame and causing her to retreat from everyone around her.
Now, it was different.
She rolls her body to lay on her back. Curling both of her children closer, she stares at the ceiling as her mind goes to her partner, thousands of miles away from her for the first time since that one summer a lifetime ago.
"Mom?" Beside her, Jack stirs. "I miss dad, too."
Ziva hugs him closer. "He will be home to us soon, yes?" She murmurs. A small voice pipes up from beneath covers.
"From 'Spains?"
Ziva chuckles. "From Spain." She affirms, "Now let us sleep, we have a big day tomorrow."
" 'Kay," Her daughter murmurs, patting Ziva's arm. From her other side, her son yawns gently.
"No more bad dreams?"
"No," Ziva agrees, sighing contentedly.
Her partner was not the only one who could keep them at bay.
He had given her two guardians. Even from miles away.