I wrote this because after my last story, I got a few PM's saying Tony deserves to be tortured by Ziva a little bit, because of the way he was treating her. At first I agreed, but now I'm thinking a little more and looking at everything that has happened from Tony's perspective, and am beginning to feel worse and worse for the guy. This oneshot was inspired from the idea that Tony is now feeling a little angsty towards Ziva about what he had to go through over the past few months, and how he got there. R&R.
McGee's point of view
It was horrible. I honestly have no idea how he got through it. To say it started when Gibbs told us she would dead would be a lie. It started long before that. Possibly even before she left.
Three months ago, an ass hole named Michael interfered with one of our cases. Of course, it wasn't until after we told him to go back to where he came from that we learned he was dating Ziva; so, of course, he didn't go, using her as a reason to stay. That was when it started.
We all have always felt the inexplicable need to protect the women we work with, even if there is a greater chance that we are the one's who need the saving, but of all of us, he has always been the most... overprotective, because that's just how he is. Chivalric by nature. Sure, he always seems to find a way to laugh at a situation, even when it's inappropriate, and sure, he was sometimes rude, and disrespectful, and immature, and impolite, and maybe even a little bit insane, but he always had the best intentions, and he was always there for me, and everyone else when it really counted. So when he thought she was in trouble, of course he was going to be there for her.
And then it backfired. He was only trying to give her a chance to explain herself, to get away if need be, and she wasn't even at home. Her 'boyfriend' was. And they fought, and Tony won. And then Ziva walked in. Of course, I only heard the full story afterwards. I wasn't there; I don't know exactly how it went down, but I do know that Tony was only trying to protect her. And she left.
Well, in the technical sense, we left her, but it was really she who left.
And the months went by, and Tony fell harder and harder. Into depression, of course, at least, that's what I thought at the time.
And we got case after case, and Tony would do nothing but throw himself into them, solving one after the other. I could see Gibbs was proud of him, but also worried. We all were.
He continued to get worse and worse, until it got the the point that no one would even see him outside of work. There were times at which I think he never even left.
And he never slept.
And he never ate.
And he never smiled.
And then he lost it. The minute that word came out of his mouth, when Gibbs received the call informing us that another person had died, and told us to grab our gear, I realized just how bad he really was. No.
No. No. No. No. No.
And almost everything after that was a blur. We formed a plan with a small success rate and traveled half way across the world to almost certain death. But as we drove to some godforsaken place in the middle of some desert, I looked over and saw they look on his face, and knew there was nothing that could happen here that would make me regret coming.
And then we were captured.
And then Tony was interrogated.
And then the bag was removed from her head.
And then I saw something happen in Tony's eyes.
And then I realized it wasn't depression he had fallen into.
Wow, I wrote this a long time ago... I was just looking through my documents and found it among lots of schoolwork and unposted fics, and realized I actually meant to post this one.... so if it sucks, oh well. I was too lazy to reread it. If it isn't too horrible, review. And if it is, review anyway and tell me how horrible it is and maybe I'll go revise it.