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Heart Of The Matter
There's something about the way she walks that seems to drive him crazy. She's got that swagger, hips swinging with confidence and it rolls off of her in waves. She knows she's got it, and she makes sure that he knows it too. Today her hair is straight, hanging down her back like a curtain and he has the strongest urge to reach out and touch it. Too bad he favors the use of his hand so much.
Do you remember when you cut it? I noticed and you smiled when I complimented you.
Their suspect's house isn't much farther and he takes comfort in the sound of her boots as they thud on the concrete sidewalk. It's snowing outside and he opens his mouth and lets the flakes fall onto his tongue
Your nose scrunches up when you laugh. It's pretty cute.
When they pass a brick house that looks like something out of a children's story book Ziva stops and stare with admiration. A tire swing hangs from the oak tree in the front yard, children's laughter ringing through the air. There's a little girl with long corkscrew curls that reach her waist and when she sees the two she waves and smiles, a gap between her two front teeth.
There's a photo on your desk, two little girls in blue dresses with long brown curls that reach their waists. When I ask you who they are, lightning flashes in your eyes and your voice is a low whisper.
"They are no one. It has been a long, long time since they existed." I never ask again.
The suspect's house is grey and small, tucked away behind a row of trees and almost invisible. Ziva walks in front, her hand already reaching for the gun tucked in her waistband, fingers clenching in anticipation. Tony shakes his head and smiles.
"Calm down Rambo, for now we're just here to talk to him." She exhales and lets her arm fall, bumping Tony's shoulder when he comes to stand beside her. He rings the doorbell and stands back to wait. It's silent. He moves to ring again and a barely audible click is heard from behind the walls. His gut clenches and he grabs Ziva's shoulders before they hit the ground and three distinct cracks erupt. Just like thunder.
You like to practice when you're angry. I don't know how many times I've found you at the shooting range, focused and poised like a dancer, a half empty box of ammo on the table next to you.
"Bad day?" I always ask, waiting for that fiery glare and a barely audible grunt.
"If you are going to say do not speak." You growl.
Bang, bang, bang. Three holes, perfectly centered in your targets chest.
He's not aware of the blood that's pooling beneath his body, just the pain that rips through his chest and the sudden pressure that pushes him further into the ground. Ziva is speaking far too quickly for him to understand, shouting and begging as his blood seeps between her fingers and droplets fall into the snow. The contrast is startling.
"Tony look at me. Do not close your eyes." He's trying, he tries so hard but his eyelids are so heavy and sleep is calling to him in a voice so sweet. It would be very unlike Tony to simply ignore her.
Do you remember when you fell asleep on my couch in the middle of The Sound of Music? It was almost a relief that the singing had finally stopped. I'd give anything to hear that these days. You're so sad and lost, and I've tried too hard to find you again.
"Tony!" she's shouting now and he winces when another wave of pain passes through him and she presses down even harder. The ground is stained in his blood and so are her hands. The warmth makes her stomach churn.
"Tony look at me, you are going to be alright. I promise." She reaches up and takes the chain from around her neck with the heart shaped pendant and places it in his hand.
"Just hold onto this and you will be alright."
That necklace I gave you was a gift for your birthday almost one year ago to the day. At first you refused to open it and it sat on your desk for almost a week.
It's dark and the bullpen is empty when you finally open it. My heart starts pounding madly when you put it on, clutching the heart in your hand.
He takes the cool metal in his hand and holds it tightly, clenching his teeth against the pain. He savors the warmth that comes from her hands. He's so cold and his clothes are soaked from the snow that has melted beneath him.
"Zi," he barely manages to whisper her name but she hears him as if he's just screamed.
"Yes Tony," her hand has resorted to stroking his cheek, moving through his hair and providing as much comfort as she possibly can. He coughs and that god damn red is staining the corners of his mouth. She wipes it away with her fingers.
"There's a box in the top drawer of my dresser that has your name on it. It's for your birthday, make sure you open it." Ziva squeezes her eyes shut and feels the tears that try and squeeze past her eyelashes. She will not cry.
"You will give it to me when you're better ok?" she refuses to believe he will die; he doesn't have permission after all. But he laughs, then winces and lets his eyes fall shut again.
"I think you'll like it. I made it myself." Another cough, followed by more red. It stains his lips this time.
When I find you, broken and bloody you still don't cry. You're clutching that necklace like a life line and it makes my heart swell to know you find so much comfort in it.
"What are you doing here?" you sound harsh and angry, it surprises me.
"Well McGee and I were in the neighborhood and thought we'd swing on by." Your mouth tips up in the smallest of smiles despite our situation, a ray of hope in our darkest time.
The whole way home I sneak glances of you, just to make sure you're alright. You have a hand up by your throat and I can tell you're still holding onto that necklace. I like to think that it's a piece of me, as long as you hold it I'll keep you safe.
The machines breathe for him but he's alive.
Beep.
She waits by his side, never leaving but always watching.
Beep.
Four days and three hours after he arrives at the hospital he opens his eyes and she is the first thing he sees. The machines are shut off and she can take comfort in the sound of his breathing. Sometimes she stays up and watches the rise and fall of his chest. Just as a precaution.
Three days after that Tony is allowed to return home and Ziva helps him through the front door. He makes her wait on the couch, (regardless of her rather loud protests) as he slips into his bedroom. He comes back with a box covered in silver wrapping paper and hands it to her, smiling. It's the first time he's smiled in almost a week.
You have a system for unwrapping presents. Always gentle as if you're scared of hurting what's inside.
There's a black felt box and inside there's a heart made from dark purple glass. It's misshapen and slightly lopsided, but it's beautiful and she can't help but smile. There's a hole drilled neatly at the top and Ziva undoes her necklace and slips the heart onto the chain.
"It is beautiful," she murmurs, adjusting it around her neck. She leans in and kisses his cheek, lingering for a second before pulling back and offering the smallest of smiles as she clutches his hand.
It was your birthday, do you remember?
I handed you that box and you threw it aside.
It takes a week for you to open it.
Inside is a necklace I bought for you, a heart shaped pendant.
You wear it all the time, never taking it off.
The room was dark, and you were broken.
You held onto that necklace for dear life.
It was snowing outside, do you remember?
I was down and you were trying not to cry.
You put that necklace in my hand and I held on for dear life.
Today's you're birthday and you're sitting on my couch.
You kissed my cheek, you smell like lavender.
Do you remember?