Ziva's thoughts during the scene in Hiatus where Ziva's in the bathroom after her fight with Abby. A side effect of my NCIS rewatch…
Spoilers: Hiatus Part 1
They didn't understand.
She could feel the heat of the salty droplets on her cheeks, even as she splashed cold water on her face trying to wash them away. Ducky. Abby. Tony. McGee… They thought she was cold, that she didn't care, that it didn't matter to her.
But she cared; she cared more than she was willing to admit, more than she could admit even to herself. She had been alone for so long. The list of people she trusted was short. The list of people she allowed herself to love was even shorter. And both lists were getting shorter every year.
They didn't understand.
She wished they did, but at the same time, she was glad they didn't. She was glad that they hadn't grown up in a place were bombings were a not-so-uncommon part of life. Glad they didn't know what it was like to watch their childhood friends die as a result of shrapnel piercing their bodies. Glad they didn't have the smell of burning flesh forever imprinted on their memory. Glad they didn't know what it was like to see another bombing on the news and have to wonder whether someone else the loved was dead. Glad they had never sat in the living room in stony silence, watching their mother cry, knowing their sister wasn't ever coming home.
Of course they'd seen bombings, they'd worked the crime scenes, but it wasn't the same. This was all a new and terrible nightmare to them, but it was one she'd been living it her whole life. Except here she thought it would be different, she thought it would be safe, and against her better judgment she had started to care, started to love, started to believe she had some place she belonged.
She had almost allowed herself the luxury of leaning on others, of believing that she didn't have to always walk alone. But now, when she needed it most, she felt more isolated than ever. They had circled the wagons, and she was on the outside.
They saw her as callous and uncaring. They didn't realize that this was what surviving looked like.
When that bomb tore through the ship it had ripped the world apart, all their worlds. The difference was that for them it was the first time. For her…well…she had lost count.
They didn't understand.
Everything she had done was her attempt to cope. It was not different than the rest of them calling the hospital or checking in on each other. It wasn't that she was unfeeling; it was that it hurt. It hurt so much that she was afraid that if she paused, even for a moment, the pain of it would break her. But she couldn't break. There was work to be done, a case to solve…a world to put back together.
Because the world didn't stop in that moment, it kept turning. It always kept turning, whether you wanted it to or not. Especially when you'd rather it didn't…
They didn't understand.
But that was okay. She hoped they never would.
Fin.