I Am Damaged Goods
She screamed, and it was a sound that punctured him. Tony knew it was the site of someone entering the shed that had done it to her – caused her to scream in the most violent and terrified of fashions. He was sure that his face fell and he knew that his heart dropped into his stomach. After two days of searching, he finally caught sight of the Ziva David.
He could see, from three or so yards away that she was in bad shape. Her leg was at a crooked angle and her clothing was torn and bloody – she was curled in the dirt that she'd lain on for two days; she was curled in on herself.
He rushed towards her, afraid of terrifying her but unable to help it – he had to get her out of there, fast. She screamed again, but it was a warning this time, and it ended on a hacking cough as she attempted to push herself from the dirt and scuttle away from her partner.
Tony grabbed her flailing arms, stopping further injury. "Ziva-"
"Leave me alone!" She shouted, and he didn't fail to notice the bruises on her face, her torn clothing, or the deep fear in her dark eyes – she didn't show that fear, ever. He hadn't seen that fear when he rescued her from Somalia; he'd never seen that level of fear in the infallible woman before him. She was weak – in past years, it would have taken a lot of effort, or been nearly impossible, for him to restrain her, but it was all too easy this time.
"Okay," He soothed, forcing himself not to look away from the woman before him and the condition that she was in. Tony looked at her eyes, they were still that wild, panicked fear that they'd been moments before. "I need you to calm down for me, Zi. Can you do that? Shh." He spoke and listened behind him, hoping that Gibbs would hurry in soon – he didn't know if he could do this by himself. He needed Gibbs's help.
Why was it always her? Why, after finally he could see the hope in her face again after Somalia, did she have to get captured during this investigation gone wrong? He could see it – see what they'd done to her, beaten and tortured –she didn't need this, he didn't think she could handle this right now. And by the sight before him, he'd been judging correctly.
She relaxed, suddenly, as if all the strength she'd managed to hold on to had left her in a flash.
"You recognize me, don't you Zee-vah?" He asked soothingly, moving closer to her. He caught the tiniest of nods from her as her eyelids fluttered. Gently, with tenderness she didn't know he'd had, he lifted up her head and placed it back down in his lap. "No sleeping, not just yet." He warned, watching the doorway for Gibbs, afraid to move her any more than he already had. "Are you comfortable?" Tony realized what a stupid sentence that was – of course she wasn't, but he was hoping he'd made her the tiniest bit more comfortable than she'd been seconds ago. She didn't answer him. "Alright Zi, just relax. There you go, it's over." He didn't know whether he was speaking for her or for himself, but it didn't matter. They had her back – that was what mattered. What mattered was that he made the tough angel before him as comfortable as humanly possible. She'd been through too much for him not to do just that – and she was letting him. She wasn't resisting, and whether it was because she didn't have the strength to or because she wanted him there, he was going to keep doing what he was doing.
"Di… Nozzo." She shook out the word, stuttered it.
"The only one, Zee-vah … actually, there are more, but … you get the point. Are you alright?" He asked another stupid question, and to his disbelief – at her honesty – she shook her head. She cradled one bruised arm against her chest, the fingers of that hand brushing against the fabric of his jeans.
"No, T-Tony. I am broken.
I am damaged goods."
Author's Note:
Should I continue?
For Abby – because there are grapes in this world. And there are also people talking to themselves out loud in a library. And speaking to flags. And, um… you're calling me.