AN I don't own NCIS or any of its characters. Like I said, this was motivated by reading reviews! Thank you everyone!

After the fallout at NCIS, Tony was transferred. He applied to go back to Baltimore, but got reassigned to counter terrorism. It wasn't hard, or particularly difficult. It was mostly just interrogation and torture but he didn't mind it as much anymore. It grew on him. The longer he stayed in that place, the longer he simmered with hate for the team he could barely remember that had broken his heart, it grew on him. He tried not to enjoy it too much. Besides, it didn't usually come to that anyways. Years of learning from Gibbs, and he rarely had to resort to torture unless it was on a time constraint or unless he wanted to. Sometimes, he just wanted to.

But he had been flown out to eastern Afghanistan to interrogate a female terrorist named Amina Ahmed, so he put his existential and moral crisis on hold.

"Careful she's a feisty one. Bit Sanchez in the crotch when he got too close." The soldiers/guards snickered at Sanchez's expense. Perfect. Just what he needed.

"Can you give me anything else, guys? I don't like walking into these things blind." They shrugged. Unhelpful, as expected.

"Long frizzy hair, five eight or five nine, skinny, pretty strong when she isn't huddled in the corner or tied up. You want us to lock her in before you get in there?" He shook his head. He would be her friend, first, and then be mean if he had to. But nice always came first.

"No, thanks. Is she restrained at all? Can you give me the layout of the room?" One of them walked away and the other nodded. Barnes. Tony liked him already.

"Yeah, she's in the northeast corner. Handcuffs attached to a six foot chain bolted to the floor. There's a table in the center of the room-the room is twelve by twelve. She can reach the table to sit at it but she never gets up anyways. Toilet along the east wall. That's about it." He nodded in appreciation to Barnes.

"Thanks." It wasn't as bad as he worried it would be. Ahmed was Muslim, he knew that much, and she likely didn't take well to the strange men controlling her environment. But, then again, if she was an international terrorist, maybe it didn't faze her as much. He motioned for them to let him in.

The room was dim and dusty, likely due to the dirty floor, but he'd seen much worse. And, like the guys outside had described, the female figure was crouched into the northeast corner, hiding her face in her arms. She didn't look like an international terrorist. But they never did.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He addressed her in Pashto, one of the few phrases he could say, but he knew she spoke French too. He would wait to ease into that. It was easier, sometimes, if they heard their first language from him first-it built a little bit of respect. But she didn't move, didn't even appear to be listening.

"You can hear me," he tried again, in French this time. "I know you can understand me, too." She didn't look up, but she shifted a bit to reposition her head in her arms. There was blood trickling down through her hair and bruises on her arms but that wasn't unusual, so he didn't sigh or comment on it. That was what happened when you fought the guards.

"Would you like some water?" Still no response. A knock and one of the guards poked his head into the room with the food he'd requested, placing it on the table with a glare at Ahmed. His uniform said Sanchez. Tony had to hold back a snicker.

"You sure you wanna give that bitch a three course meal?" Sanchez was clearly still bitter about the crotch biting incident, but Ahmed didn't move or even look at him. Even at the English. They didn't know if she understood English, but the guards knew that he did and preferred it to Pashto whenever possible.

"No one can say no to french fries." The soldier shrugged and dipped back up but when he looked back, Ahmed had lifted her head. He couldn't see her face or meet her eyes, but it was movement. At the English… interesting.

"Do you understand English? If you prefer it, we can talk in whatever language you want. English, though, I don't need a translator. You gotta give me some kind of indication either way, so give me a nod if you prefer English?" Her head bobbed. Good, this wasn't going to be as hard as the guards had made it sound. He tossed her a french fry. A hand darted out and took it, drawing it under the hair to where he assumed she ate it.

"See? That wasn't that hard. If you want to come sit at the table with me, you're welcome to as many fries as you want. But, if you prefer to stay where you are, then the general conversion rate is going to be a fry for an answer. Agreed?" Another little nod. He tossed her another french fry.

"Fantastic. I'm so glad we can have such a healthy relationship already. McDonalds can break through the bonds of any issue, at least that's what I've always thought. I would have brought burgers but I couldn't be sure it was halal, and I know you're a practicing Muslim so I settled for fries. You want another?" Another nod, another fry. "Now, will you let me see your face? I wouldn't normally ask but, given the fact that we're in a Afghani holding cell with charges of terrorism floating around so… I'm gonna need to get a positive ID before we talk much more." She didn't move, her body stiff.

"I'll give you two fries if you look up. You don't even have to meet my eyes, just let me get a positive ID." Slowly, she lifted her head. He could tell just from the angle of her jaw that Ahmed was beautiful-the evil ones always were. The dip of her chin, the curve of her lips, and even if her cheeks were bruised and bloodied, they were beautiful too. They were not, however, Afghani.

"Mmm I'd give that half a fry, you gotta face the light, Amina." She hesitated, that was clear, but she slowly turned her face into the light. He felt his stomach drop. That face. He knew that face. Not from a wanted poster, though, and not from the briefing material. He knew her, from somewhere, somehow. An assignment? A different interrogation? Had he interrogated her before? No, he was sure he would have remembered her… He knew her, though, from something… He knew her…

"...Ziva?" Her eyes snapped up and it hit him instantly. Ziva…?

Ziva!?

He rushed down beside her, kneeling to look at her even when she flinched violently away. He didn't touch her, though. She just stared at him. Her eyes were slow and unblinking, barely tracking his face, but he sat beside her and was prepared to do whatever it took to reach her. God… Ziva!

"Zi, sweetheart, I need you to look at me." But the way her eyes looked right on through him said that was unlikely. "Okay, change of plan. Close your eyes, Zi, and just listen to my voice. You know me. It's me, it's Tony, you don't have to be scared. Just give me a nod or a head shake, okay?" She nodded, even if it was slow and slightly delayed.

"Okay, tell me right now if blowing this cover is going to endanger your life or anyone else's-wait, no, scratch that. Just your life. Tell me if blowing your cover will endanger your life." A slow, distracted shake of her head. Oh thank fucking god. He wasn't sure what he would have done if she'd said yes, but he was so relieved she said no.

"Okay, good, you're doing good, Zi. Do I need to hide your identity to get you out of here?" A nod. Well, that made it harder. But there was no way he was leaving her here like this. Suddenly, the bruises on her face weren't just routine they were the kind of thing that made his skin crawl. He wanted to bash the soldiers' faces in for doing that to her. But, no, she was the priority now.

"Do you need medical attention before we go, Zi?" She shook her head. "Do you need a hospital when we get out?" She shook her head. She was probably lying, given the damage he could from where he was, but he was content to trust her on it for the moment.

"Okay, Zi… Honey, I don't think you can walk out of here so I'm going to have to carry you. Can you let me touch you?" She hesitated. "Please, Ziva, you know me. I will never hurt you, sweetheart. Please, I need you to try because that's the only way I can get you out of here. Please, Zi? Try?" She nodded, blinking back tears. God he hated the way her lower lip was trembling, like she was going to fall apart the second he breathed too hard.

"Here, like this." He slid his arm around her shoulders, trying not to grimace at how much she flinched, but let her catch her breath for a second. When she met his eyes again, he slid his other arm under her legs. Slowly, like she was made of glass, he lifted her and tried so hard to ignore the little terrified gasps coming from behind her hair. He was going to kill them. He would get her out, and then he would come back and fucking destroy them all.

"Zi, sweetheart, I'm not going to hurt you. Please just hold on for a few more minutes, okay?" She didn't say anything or move but her whimpers quieted for a moment, enough to ease his anxiety about it. With one foot, he kicked the door for it to be opened. A soldier opened it, and gawked at him already half ready to shoot but he pushed through him.

"She went into anaphylactic shock, asshole, I'm getting her to the med tent." They started yelling about securing the prisoner and bringing a doctor to them but he yelled about it being too late and was already out the door, ducking as far as he could out of view as soon as possible. She was going limp in his arms. Shit, shit, shit! He literally ran for one of the trucks, hoping to reach it before the yelling started. Barely, just barely, his hand touched the door. He managed to get her into the passenger seat and buckled before the shooting started. In all honesty, it wasn't the first time he'd been chased off a military base with gunfire and it could have gone a lot worse but… Somehow, with Ziva in the passenger seat, it became a thousand times worse. Every little jerk of the car made her groan and he wanted to cry every time she shuddered or flinched at sudden noises. She didn't deserve this. Of all people, Ziva didn't deserve to be tortured into this half-catatonic state of terror.

"Okay, sweetheart, just keep breathing and stay with me. You can sleep when we get to the safehouse, but not yet baby. Stay with me, Zi." He was so focused on driving and avoiding holes in the road that he almost yelped when she touched his hand. She was touching him!? But she was, even if it was just a little at first. When the truck hit the next pothole, though, it jolted her enough to make her grab his hand, like she was trying to steady herself. That was a slippery slope, though, because soon she was clinging to it like a life preserver. Like he could save her, or something,

God, why hadn't he gone looking for her!? Even if it was typical of her to drop off the grid like that and even if Gibbs said not to worry why hadn't he just looked?! She could have been in that hell for months, even years! Holy shit… had she been there since the team broke up? He wouldn't put it past her father.

"Zi, sweetie, just hold on, okay? Just hold onto me we're almost there just let me make sure you're okay before you go passing out on me. We're almost there, baby." She didn't nod, but she gripped his hand a little tighter. He wanted to scream and hit something and cry and hug but he settled for driving even faster, rushing for the safehouse. Well, it wasn't a safehouse. It was a crappy motel room in the middle of the city but no one was going to come looking for them. She wasn't that high profile, at least. Thank god for that.

"Okay, we're here sweetheart. Do you think you can walk up stairs?" She shook her head. "Okay, I'm going to pick you up again, Zi. We're almost there, just hold on." She didn't flinch, that time, when he reached over and picked her up bridal style-fuck she was light. Not light in an attractive, skinny way, though. Light in a way that made his stomach churn because no human being should feel that much like a damn china doll.

"T-Tony?" He almost dropped her, reeling. Wait, no, up the stairs, he kept going through the motel gate and up the stairs to the second floor even though he was shaking now, and not from the adrenaline. She remembered him. She knew him, she knew his name-he'd gotten through to her!

"Yes, it's Tony I'm here, hon. Just hold on, okay? We're almost to the room now, it's okay you're gonna be okay." Her arms came up around his neck, holding onto him. Jesus Christ she was holding on to him! He was never going to be able to let her go again, not after this.

"It's okay, sweetheart, see? Here's the room, here we are, you can almost sleep just a few seconds more. You still with me, beautiful?" She groaned, but it was an answer nevertheless. Thank god! Then, they were inside the motel room and he was setting her on the bed and it seemed so simple, just laying her down and finding a first aid kit… But nothing could ever be that simple.

It started like a shiver, maybe, or a shudder that racked her too-skinny frame but then she wasn't breathing and her eyes were blown wide in terror and she was grabbing at air, clinging to where his hand used to be. Then, she started to scream. Sharp, tortured screams like he was stabbing needles under her nails for information. She thrashed on the bed like she was trying to escape her own body and he froze, just for a second, because he'd never seen that kind of fear in a person's eyes in all his years of interrogating people. In a heartbeat, he was back beside her and trying to calm her down but nothing worked. He gave her back his hand, but she pushed it away and he tried to talk to her but she couldn't hear him over her own screaming.

Finally, he just pulled her into his arms and held her. She screamed, but it was quieter. And, soon, she was quieter, slowly letting him pull her up into his lap and clinging to him. Her arms went back around his neck-Jesus! He was never going to get used to that… Though, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Shhhh it's okay, sweetheart, it's okay. I'm here, I've got you, you're safe baby. You're safe. Just breathe Zi, you're safe." Slowly, she was reduced to shaking little pants and she buried her face in his chest like a child. Like she was hiding from the bad men.

"It's okay, baby, I've got you. Just breathe." She obeyed, falling into him with a sigh. It was gradual, but he heard her breathing slow and shallow against his chest and he smoothed her hair but it wasn't enough. He wanted to hold her closer, somehow, and tighter even though that didn't seem possible.

"I've got you. You're safe, sweetheart, you're safe." In his arms, she shivered and nuzzled into his chest.

"Safe," she repeated, her voice hoarse and weak-but it was her voice nevertheless. "Safe."

"Yes, that's it. Safe, Zi, you're safe. Just breathe for me, okay? I've got you. You're safe." She whimpered but nodded.

"Safe."

Thanks for reading! Please review/comment if you want me to upload more! Thank you so much to everyone who had left reviews! You have no idea how much it means to me, honestly.