AN: Hi everyone! I'm here again with another story, this time it's a NCIS fanfic. There are two people I'd like to leave a thank you to - first it's LD100, my dear sister in everything but blood who kind of forced me to write this story (in a good way, really). The second's my no less loved Drama-Duchess, my lovely beta who's always there to help me with my fics. This story would not have been here without them.

So, to the story. I wanted to write a story about Ziva dealing with Tony's sadness and sorrows after a bad case. That's what this chapter is about. Then, my friend LD100 asked me to rewrite her this fic with Gibbs at Ziva's place, so I did and that's going to be the second chapter. I will post it soon. This story is composed of two chapters, each one is one single version of one single night, after one single case.

Enjoy!

Ziva

The doorbell rang at 3:41 am. Ziva David had always been somewhat of a night owl. The job called for it. Being an NCIS agent had its quirks and that meant being on "stand by" 24/7. Ziva was wide awake. She got up from her armchair and answered the door. Somehow, the impatient, constant ringing of her doorbell gave away at the identity of her nightly guest. There was really only one person that came to mind who would be so comically persistent. She hoped her neighbors weren't light sleepers.

When Ziva opened the door, her suspicions were confirmed. NCIS Agent Anthony DiNozzo was standing there holding his head with one hand and cranking up the doorbell button with the other. From the way his shoulders hung, bloodshot eyes, and the smell of fresh booze on his breath, she knew he'd been drinking and heavily at it. He didn't seem completely wasted, but drunk enough to leave him staggering and incoherent. It didn't surprise Ziva one bit.

Ziva knew what led Tony to this. After all, he was the first agent on the scene the day before. It was a split-second decision. However, the girl would not have died if he stopped the bullet with his body.


Single gunshot. A few seconds of silence. Then three more shots were fired. Upon the last shot, Gibbs, Ziva, and McGee snapped out of their trances and ran towards the direction the shots were heard. It was a series of twists and turns before they reached the source of the sound. Tony was already there. He was on his hands and knees trying desperately to resuscitate the girl. The girl, who had been held captive in the cellar, was bleeding out from the gunshot wound. Blood was everywhere. Tony was soaked to the bone with it. McGee's effort to help the situation also resulted in soiling his clothes. Gibbs checked on the suspect, who had been shot dead by Tony.

Ziva radioed for emergency medical assistance but somehow she knew the child wasn't going to make it. Young Alice's life vanished before the call even ended. Hearing the poor child's suffocating final breath touched the faces of her two unsuccessful saviors.

Tony stayed there for the longest time, thinking over and over why he hadn't done more to save her life. He hadn't risen to his feet until the medical examiner arrived. Dr. Mallard, or better known as 'Ducky', was prompt at the crime scene. With Palmer and McGee's help, they gently convinced Tony to leave so the medical examiner could do his job. They all saw the self-hatred and anger burning in Tony's empty eyes. Tony just wasn't Tony anymore.

The six of them, including Palmer and Abby, vowed to keep an eye on Tony from that moment on. But he was not going to let his co-workers baby-sit him. They were smothering him with way too much attention and he needed to get out of there. He needed air. Tony made a plan and sneaked out of the office. That was hours ago.


"Sorry." Tony's voice was hollow. It lacked its usual warmth and smoothness.

"It's okay," Ziva replied, not sure what he was apologizing for…unless it was for their endless worrying for the last several hours. When they realized Tony escaped right from under their noses, they searched everywhere for him – his hangouts and favorite places, bars all across town. They repeatedly called his cell phone, only to get the usual chirpy, "You have reached Tony DiNozzo. Leave it at the beep. Thanks." In a way, Ziva was glad to see Tony at her doorstep.

"I woke you?" Tony mumbled. His lost eyes finally found her.

"No. I wasn't asleep." She stepped aside to let him in, but he didn't move. He just stood there watching her. His expression was nearly comical, like as if he saw her for the first time in his life.

"Come in," she said. When he didn't move, she pulled him inside. After closing the door, Ziva turned around to find Tony still in his overcoat. She began unbuttoning his coat.

"You're way too quick for me tonight." Tony slurred but stood quite still with the help of the wall behind him.

"Don't get your hopes up." She smirked. She had no intention of sleeping with him that night, especially not when he's drunk and in the wrong frame of mind.

She saw he hadn't changed his shirt. It was the same pale blue button front shirt stained with dried blood.

"Can I stay?" He asked almost apologetically, as if he was ashamed for not being able to walk straight or drive home or simply not wanting to be alone.

"Sure," Ziva smiled at him. "You need a shower. Bathroom is the first door on the right."

"Yeah," Tony nodded lightly and slowly made his way towards the bathroom.

"Tony," Ziva called. He turned around. "Your shirt. It's covered in blood. Give it to me. I'll soak it for you so we can get the stain out."

"Alright," Tony made an attempt to undo his shirt, but then he stopped. "Oh wait, no spare clothes."

"That's okay," Ziva told him and went quickly to her bedroom. A few seconds later she returned with a clean shirt and sweat pants. "It belonged to Michael. I kinda kept it…" She said, her voice trailing off. "Well, he didn't wear it very often." She brushed the feeling aside hoping Tony hadn't noticed anything.

To her relief, Tony accepted the clothes and handed Ziva his bloody shirt. "Thank you," he told her and hesitated before approaching her.

She didn't refuse the strong arm around her waist or the butterfly kiss on her forehead, which came just a mere second later. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered before disappearing in the bathroom.

Ziva spent the next ten minutes standing by the bathroom door just listening to the sound of running of water. She had to make sure Tony was alright. When he came out some minutes later, he found Ziva waiting for him by the door. Somehow, she understood what Tony was going through. There were no crude jokes, no bickering, nor anything immature they'd do around each other on a normal day. That night, she was just there to be his friend.

She led him to the couch. There, he lied down and waited for her to come back with a blanket. Ziva spread the blanket over her colleague. Tony was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. And the excessive drinking didn't help things either. Sitting next to Tony on the sofa, Ziva stroked his hair and watched him finally fall asleep.

When she was sure he was deep in his slumber, she reached for her cell phone. Careful not to wake Tony, she dialed the number. The dial tone rang three times before the person on the other line picked up.

"Gibbs." The voice of her boss said sternly.

"It's Ziva," she whispered. "Tony's here. He arrived twenty minutes ago."

"How is he?" Gibbs asked with concern.

"Right now, asleep," Ziva answered. "A bit drunk, self-loathing, angry and confused, I think. He appears to be in some sort of shock. But he's DiNozzo. He'll bounce back."

"Yea, I know." Gibbs sighed. "I'll call the others. Sleep would do all of us some good about now."

"Sure. It's been a long day." Ziva replied. She was grateful they had the weekend off. "Good night, Gibbs."

"Sleep well Ziva," Gibbs said and ended the call.

Tony stirred in his sleep and Ziva continued stroking his hair. The gentle stroking seemed to soothe him. Sleep was doing him good. He appeared more relaxed and even the unhealthy pale color was slowly leaving his face.

Ziva switched the lights off and got a blanket from her bed. She couldn't leave him alone in the state that he was in. She wanted to be near him, to watch over him. Besides, she owed him. After all, it was he who proposed the mission to Somalia to rescue her. He knew it was a suicide mission, but he did it anyway. It was because he couldn't live without her.

Their last meeting was a violent one. She remembered knocking him to the ground with no care to his broken arm in a sling. But Tony was forgiving. Regardless of the fact that he got hurt while trying to protect her, being held at gunpoint, thrown into false accusations, desertions, betrayals, he still managed to pull through and rescue her. Tony was always there for her. He had her back and she knew now that the feeling was mutual.

End of Chapter 1