So here's just a little thing I whipped up and I hope you enjoy it :) Disclaimer : I own nothing, I am a moneyless photography student who enjoys making up scenarios in her head.
She wakes up rapidly, his loud snores creeping under the door. She had stayed at his place after a movie night because she didn't feel up to being in her apartment alone and she was thankful that he had agreed to it, even if it had meant him taking the couch.
Her heart thudded hard in her chest and her throat was as dry as a desert but thankfully this time she didn't scream. Nightmares don't infiltrate her sleep as often as they used to but sometimes they do still creep in and distress her at her most vulnerable time and she didn't need him worrying about her as she tries to organise her thoughts.
She climbs out of bed slowly and heads in the direction of the kitchen, gasping for a cold glass of water. She heads through the lounge walking past the couch and television. She pauses for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. She stares at the wall behind the television set for a moment before her eyes finally land on a framed picture to the left. She moves closer to be able to see in the light sneaking through a gap in the blinds and finds a small picture of herself staring back at her.
Her trembling fingers reach out towards it and gently trace around the edge of the frame, confirming that she is truly awake. Her mind spins in shock from the realisation of which photo it is. 'His favourite from Paris' is what he called it when he had shown it to her.
Her eyes began to get wet and before she even realised it she was sobbing, she couldn't understand why, which scared her but she knew somewhere deep within her that she needed it. She stood there her shoulders shaking, letting the waterfall break before she finally crumpled to the ground her emotions taking over the control of her limbs.
She didn't know how loudly she was crying, and she had forgotten that he was sleeping on the couch behind her. The remembrance hit her when she no longer heard his snores filling the still air. She then heard the shuffling of careful footsteps behind her and she doesn't run away from him. She just sits there with the teardrops crawling down her cheeks. He comes up to where she is sat slowly, acting like she is a deer he could spook at any wrong move.
"Ziva…?"
She doesn't answer, she just sits there waiting for him to come closer. She can't trust her voice to speak even if she did want to answer. She feels his warm hand rest on her bare arm and she turns slowly to look up at his concerned face.
"What are you doing out of bed?" his worry for her coming out strongly in his words as he sits himself down beside her.
"I woke up and needed a drink of water….." Her voice was raspy with tears and ready to break into sobs again at any second.
"You could have just shouted for me to get you one, I wouldn't mind being woken up for you."
"I can do things for myself Tony." She was clearly annoyed at being treated as fragile and her words came out sharply.
"I know that you can my ninja, but at this moment in time it doesn't exactly look that way"
He reaches out to put his hand gently on her cheek, wiping away a single tear that was lingering on her smooth skin. She leans in slightly to his touch, pulling back sharply when she realised what she had done. He jumps up trying to avoid the suddenly awkward situation by going to get her that drink of water, coming back in only a few seconds and handing it to her. She takes a long gulp finally quenching her thirst and finally wetting her throat since she woke up.
"Why do you have a photo of me up on your wall?"
"I told you, it was my favourite from Paris. It deserved being displayed if I do say so myself" He laughs weakly at his attempt at lightening the tension.
She nods, accepting his weak answer. If she was feeling more herself she would probe him for the real answer but she just wants to stay quiet. He extends a hand to help her up and leads her over to the couch. Once there he sits and tugs her down to sit beside him where they sit in silence just looking at each other, neither of them wanting to let go of the others hand.
"Do you want to talk about what's really wrong Zee?" his thumb strokes over the skin of her hand lightly.
Her eyes fall on his, she knows she can trust the man who had always had her back but somehow she feels that showing her true vulnerability or her fears could finally scare him away. She shakes her head choosing to remain quiet, he doesn't probe into her decision instead he just opens his arms to her.
"C'mere"
She climbs into his arms and he just sits there stroking his hand softly over her hair making small shushing noises in her ear. She feels the tears creeping back up in to her eyes again. She tries hard to hold them back so much that her body shakes. His hand moves down to her back and his arms hold her to his body tighter. Her fingers grasp tightly at the cloth on his chest; she doesn't want him to see her cry again.
"Just let it go Ziva, I won't think any less of you."
"How can you know when you haven't experienced it?"
"Because of what I said to you when you were leaving for your father's funeral. I meant it when I said you are not alone." His words hit the spot in her that set the waterworks off again and she fell against him, his shirt becoming wet with tears.
He held her through the rest of the night as her body heaved with sobs, not once judging, not once taking advantage of her, and even when his eyes began to feel heavy with exhaustion he pushed himself to remain awake for as long as possible not caring that he would have to rely on caffeine the next day.
His arms held on to her tightly and his fingers ran soothingly through her hair as she quietly slept on his chest when she had finally gone back off to sleep. He couldn't help but stare at her face, her features were calm and she was making no sound. It was then he finally realised that no other woman would ever mean as much to him as the one curled up in his arms.