Ziva woke up almost screaming it was only through sheer force of will that she kept it from breaking through her throat to spill over her lips. Somehow she managed to force it to remain silent trapped inside her. It took a moment to realize she wasn't underground and it wasn't dark. Light flooded the room and the mattress beneath her was soft. The man lying next to her was not. He was still, breathing steadily in the depths of sleep but his body wrapped around hers was iron hard against her. She waited for the fear to come, for the waves of nausea to take over but they didn't. She was both surprised and not. He moved so slightly still not waking and his body pressed more firmly against her. It was instinctive as was his hand wrapped in her hair. She knew that, knew if he'd been awake he would have pulled away and despite her fears, her hurt she didn't want him to pull away. Had another man tried to be close to her she would have fallen apart and yet to be held so intimately by Gibbs she felt a bit of her sanity return. It shouldn't have been this way they had been nothing before she'd left. Nothing if you didn't take into account the occasional moment of eyes meeting, speaking their mutual hatred of rule twelve.

Unable to stop herself she reached out to touch his hair. Her entire time in that hell she had never once believed he would come for her. She had hoped prayed and wished but had never really believed he would. She hadn't given him reason to search for her, had instead given him and the rest of the team every reason to hate her. She hadn't broken but at some point she'd stopped caring what would happen to her. When she'd been alone, it was Gibbs that had kept her from going mad, his face, the smell of him and oddly his hair. Something so unique to him, prematurely gray looked good on him and from the moment she'd met him she'd wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through it, feel it clenched in her fingers while he made love to her. She felt a jolt of desire sweep through her and paused, her hand shaking. What kind of woman was she, she'd been raped, used again and again and yet here she was scarcely a month after they finally stopped their abuse and already feeling desire.

Gibbs had woken to feel Ziva pressed against him, her hands in his hair and her mouth mere inches from his. He remained still felt her gentle touch and tried not pull her closer but his body wasn't as patient as he was. It urged him to take her and pull her beneath him. He clenched his fists silently. He watched her through veiled eyes, cataloging the storm of emotions. It wasn't till he saw shame naked and raw wash over her that he broke his silence. "Don't Ziva, you are not anyone else, how you heal is up to you and no one else."

Ziva caught her breath when she realized he was awake and had been watching her. She couldn't hide her sob even by biting her lip neither could she hide the flinch when Gibbs gently rubbed her lower lip. He didn't pull away though and for that she was grateful. "I do not know how to do this Gibbs. I feel aroused, I should be..."

"Why Ziva? Why should you feel anything than what you do? Because that's how most people react? You aren't most people. You survived, that is a gift, you walked through hell and made it home. However you come back from all that happened is your business." He hated the shame etched into her features wished he could soothe it away, knowing he couldn't. "You just got home Ziva and while I came here to comfort you this wasn't how I meant to do it. If anything you should be angry with me not yourself."

"Gibbs you came here treated me like I am not as broken as I feel. Bruised, in need of help but not broken. You did not even treat me that way on the plane. That could not make me angry. As for this..it has always been there, even before tonight. I am just surprised you can look at me."

Gibbs cocked his head "You're beautiful Ziva I've always looked at you, the way you walk, the way you smile."

Ziva paused taking in what he said knowing he meant it. "But it is different now Gibbs I

am...different after them. How could you want to touch me, to be...close to me." Ziva felt the same need to scrub herself raw as she had when she'd first walked in the hotel room. "Every part of me is different. I take a breath and I smell that place. I am not the woman I was before."

Gibbs silently cursed the men who'd taken the strong independent woman he'd known and made her doubt for a moment who she was. He wished he'd killed more of them. "Who you are to me hasn't changed. Actually that's not exactly true; I'd always known you were strong. I just didn't know how strong you were. Whatever was done to you could never change how I...how I feel about you, how I see you. Wanting you isn't going to go away Ziva. It's the wrong time to tell you that beyond inappropriate but it's the truth."

Ziva held onto his words. Gibbs didn't lie, he would refuse to answer, possibly be vague but he didn't lie. And, his body wasn't lying either. Still holding her hip to hip she could feel his need against her. It quieted the anger in her, took the shame and forced it to a bearable level. "I was wrong Gibbs, the way I handled things all of it not just what happened in Israel. I was, how I behaved was not what any of you deserved."

Gibbs didn't say anything she was right and he wouldn't placate her by telling her otherwise. "What's done is done Ziva. You can't change what was. You, we, will all move on. There are things you will have to do, have to say but you will get through this and if you want I'll help you."

Ziva met his blue gaze and smiled "You already are, I was afraid I would never know this again. That last month when they barely came in to feed me I had a lot of time to think. I let myself wonder now and then what would happen if I survived." Ziva watched anger, sadness, and pain cross over Gibbs eyes as they shut briefly. "I wondered if I would ever know this again, wanting someone, being wanted. It did not seem possible. I cannot..."

Gibbs knew what Ziva was trying to say by the way she tried to pull away, to distance herself from his body. "I'm not asking for anything Ziva. I am not controlled by what my body wants. I won't hide that I want you, that would be like lying but I have no expectations Ziva. You need rest, time to heal, time to find your way back and I will help any way I can, but you don't owe me anything. Helping you isn't about wanting you in any physical way."

Ziva smiled she didn't have the words and if she'd spoken the tears would have fallen out of her and she wasn't sure they would stop. Instead she snuggled into the crook of his arm and let his stroking of her hair lull her back to sleep.

Gibbs looked at the heavy bag and wondered just how strongly it was anchored into the ceiling. He'd come straight from Ziva's hotel room to the gym at work. It was ungodly early and he needed that. He needed a way to force the anger from his body. In her sleep Ziva had cried, body wracking sobs he couldn't easily quiet. Finally the deeper sleep had claimed her and despite wanting to stay with her he'd needed to leave. He was angry the fury barely contained and he hadn't wanted her to wake up see it and mistake it for something else. He'd left her a note and the backpack. It wasn't enough he'd wanted to dig in that bag he'd packed himself and find a bottle of magic. Something that would wipe away the terror nothing could erase from her mind. His impotence in the face of her pain made anger pour into every vein. The wait for his car and the drive to NCIS had almost been longer than he could bear.

He hadn't bothered to change, or even put on gloves instead he let the anger wrap around him as he pictured every man that had hurt Ziva in the canvas bag before him. Again and again his hands hit the hard target, and every time he wished it would take away Ziva's hurt, her pain knowing it wouldn't. He didn't notice when his knuckles began to bleed or the ache in his arms all he knew was the pain of Ziva sobbing in his arms, the shame in her eyes. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but sweat poured from him, drenching his clothes from the day before, clothes that smelled of the clean soap Ziva had used trying to wash away a nightmare. A sob broke through him and he had to brace himself against the bag, his forehead touched the gray material even as his knees hit the ground. His tears mingled with his sweat and fell to the mat below.

Tony stood in the entry of the gym and knew what he was seeing. The force of it shocked him. Gibbs always kept his true anger hidden. The embodiment of the strong silent type Gibbs had been quiet on the plane, quiet when Ziva had said hello to everyone at NCIS and quiet when Ziva had allowed Abby to drop her at the Hotel she had insisted on staying at. The hotel Tony had sat outside of most of the night. He'd had no intention of going up, she wouldn't be ready to see him but he'd wanted to be there all the same. Everyone wanted to be with her to comfort her and yet they had all decided to give her the space they'd known she would need. Except for Gibbs, Tony had watched Gibbs pull into the Valet parking something he never did. Gibbs liked his vehicle readily available at all times but the urgency in the other man's movements had made it clear that this night he hadn't cared. For hours Tony had sat outside the hotel waiting to see how long it would be until Gibbs came back out. It was more than idle curiosity it was the knowledge that if anyone could get through Ziva's equally stony wall of silence it was Gibbs. Gibbs hadn't left when Tony finally had just over two hours ago. Watching him now pounding out his fury like a man possessed Tony knew what he'd suspected for years was true. There was something between Ziva and Gibbs. He couldn't put a name to it they didn't have the demeanor of a couple that was sleeping together but there had always been an intimacy between them. The occasional glance, a now and then look when they were dating someone else and even more than that something about Gibbs' reaction after Ziva had stayed in Israel. For a long time Gibbs hadn't even said her name, wouldn't discuss a replacement and wouldn't speak with Eli unless forced. But Tony hadn't been fooled Gibbs had missed her, for weeks after his phone would ring and the way the other man's eyes took in the number showed a hope everyone had ignored.

Now seeing the undisguised rage and the following grief Tony wondered how Gibbs was still sane. Whatever they had shared had been meaningful. It hurt Tony to think of what Ziva must have endured, like a sister to him his only solace was he'd aided in the deaths of those that had hurt him. Seeing how Gibbs was beating out his rage on a canvas bag he understood that Gibbs' feelings ran in a much different direction. Tony walked away quietly letting Gibbs have his privacy wishing he could erase the hurt they were all feeling. A man passed him heading for the gym Tony gestured to him

"You might not want to go in there, Gibbs is in there." The other man paused understanding dawning and turned around and left. Tony did the same trying to rid himself of the image of a grieving Gibbs.