A/N: Honestly, I'm not sure where this story is going to go so I guess we'll all see. I realize that this is short but... it'll get longer in later chapters. Anyway, I own nothing.

He'd had a bad feeling from the beginning.

This mission wasn't going to be like every other one before it, and he was right.

He wished it wasn't true, it hadn't happened.

Whether they'd live or die in the moments after didn't matter.

What could become of them, as a pair, meant the world.

Right from the moment he'd heard the words "Dinozzo! David! Check out the warehouse," he'd had a bad feeling. He couldn't place it - why his heart had sunk, why his stomach was churning sickeningly, why he wanted her to stay behind. But he'd picked up his gear anyway, and walked without a word into the elevator. Into the car.

He'd actually let her drive. She'd looked at him oddly, but he hadn't said anything.

The warehouse had been empty, at first glance. Tony remembered keeping her close by his side, trying not to let the bad feeling allow fear to creep into his voice. There hadn't been a single person in the building besides them, and even then he'd kept his hand on his gun.

He was starting to relax when she finally looked at him and frowned. "Tony?"

"What? Ziva?" he asked, though she only answered by pointing at a large, partially open crate.

"We should make sure there is no bomb," she suggested. "Do you not see a wire?"

If it was a bomb, definitely it had been a sloppy job. A small, blue wire was just visible under the lid of the cardboard box. He stared for a few seconds, his heart beating, before he hoisted himself up on the larger box underneath. His hands shook as he reached up to get a better look, but was nearly pulled backwards as Ziva took his left hand in order to get his attention.

"Tony, it may be armed."

"And if it's armed, we'll have to deactivate it," he pointed out, frowning.

"Then I am coming with you," she declared, copying his frown.

"No!" Tony couldn't explain why he felt so suddenly possessed to keep her away. Something just wasn't right, and he couldn't put his finger on it. "Look, Ziva, just stay there. Please."

Ziva opened her mouth to argue but closed it at the sincerity in her words. She simply stepped back, let go, and watched him carefully.

He flipped the lid of the crate carefully, eyes widening at what he saw. Wires, running across and in all directions. This, however, wasn't what caught his attention.

Amongst the wire was a timer, and as he stared, the number went down second by second. His heart sunk.

0:05… 0:04…

Obviously, there would be no time to disarm something so complicated. Without another thought, he turned, and leapt.

His arms wrapped around Ziva as he catapulted across the room. He felt each second tick by as they fell, and just as her head skimmed the floor, there was a deafening explosion.

Later, he wouldn't remember much. But now, breathing purely hot air, and feeling each piece of shrapnel and broken building, all he could do was hold Ziva as tight as he could for fear that she would be ripped out of his arms and die.

They hit the floor with a crash, and he felt the world fade away.

Perhaps it was for the better, or for the worse.

But for now, all he could do was hope.

Later he'd wished that he'd listened to the feeling.

The lights were out, but he knew that the world kept turning.

Turning, while blood ran down her forehead,

And fear ran through his heart.