Disclaimer: NCIS is not mine.
He has betrayed her.
And it is not the dead boyfriend, or the distrusted father, or the mess she has found herself in that brings the sobs that night. But the deception of the person she has trusted the most.
Because Ziva didn't want to like Tony in the beginning—with the tousled brown hair and hazel eyes—she didn't, because Ziva does not trust men. But he convinced her—a smile here, and a joke there—and she was suddenly under his spell.
And they were close. They were good together—he investigated and she interrogated and together they were dangerous. But now he is on the floor bleeding, but she doesn't let herself be distracted by that because Michael is dead and it is all his fault. And she didn't think his jealousy would reach this far, and the consequences were worse than she imagined, and so she doesn't know what to say to him anymore. And there is blood on her shirt that she doesn't want to wash away because he was the last link to her family that she never really belonged too. And it breaks her heart because it doesn't hurt that much that Michael is gone.
But Tony is not forgiven.
And she is in Israel and she is fighting off hatred and a little pride when he defies Eli, and her heart is shattered again because every man in her life—every single one—has betrayed her, and her father cuts ties with her with the simple matter of the truth. But she follows his orders anyway—Michael's mission is hers, and she doesn't want it, but she wants to honor him, because they were partners in a way.
Now, Ziva is Mossad again, and she doesn't know if she can do it. Because this world is cruel and dangerous and so familiar, and four years ago she would have followed orders, but now she knows that there is a better life out there.
Ziva has been back before: he was on a boat and Tim was in the basement, but Ziva was in an exploding restaurant in a purple dress Tony would have liked. But this time is different, it feels more real, more permanent, and maybe it is because she doesn't want to be an assassin anymore. But she's lost her chance, and this mess is her fault and so she boards the boat with a face of grim determination (her normal expression) and Ziva goes into the desert.
Ziva once promised herself that she would never be taken alive, but they don't kill her when she tells them too. And she doesn't mind much, because she wants to apologize to him, so she lets them capture her.
It is months and months later (months of beatings and torture and hurt) and they drag Ziva into a different dusty room with a bag on her head and he is there. And she thinks she must be dreaming. She asks why he is here, and he tells her that it was for her, all for her, but Ziva knows this isn't true, because she was supposed to be dead. And she thinks he must have been trying to die too, and she thinks that they are so different but yet so alike.
And Ziva does not think that she has ever been this close to death—to wanting it, and so she doesn't flinch when the terrorist touches the knife against her throat. And it feels like water dripping across her skin—poetic in its cool flow.
It changes when Saleem suggests killing him, and suddenly Ziva is begging because the thought of her living while he dies has not crossed her mind before. And it leaves her terrified because now she has to protect him.
But she knows why Gibbs put Tony in that chair, Tim would never be able to bullshit quite like the ex-detective with the square jaw and shaggy brown hair. And she thinks only Tony would bring a rescue mission like this one.
Ziva does not deserve it—she does not deserve him. And his harsh words are exactly what she needs (get over yourself). Because she is ready to die.
But there are gunshots and Gibbs and she is still not sure what happened, but Tony's hand is in hers and she knows things will be alright. And it's only after a long plane ride and a change of clothes that she is standing in NCIS (home) again in Abby's arms that a tear falls, because she is home and she has never felt Abby be gentler.
Because now they know that she can be broken.
They are clapping she thinks, but she is too tired to do anything but cry and she doesn't want to do that. And she thinks they would not be as proud if they had known what she has done.
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