A/N: My profuse apologies dear readers! I was in bed late last night after posting a chapter in my Jibbs fic and all of a sudden I was like, 'Oh no, it's Friday! I was supposed to update TWL!' So hopefully one day late hasn't made anyone considerably frustrated with me. Hope you like the chapter! See you guys again next week! Thanks for reading/reviewing! :D

Ziva didn't even make it an hour into Aladdin before her head nodded forward and her eyes fluttered, trying to stay open. Without trying to be obvious about it, Tony moved closer little by little so that when she finally did lose her battle to stay awake, Ziva's head came to rest lightly on his shoulder.

For several moments Tony barely breathed, feeling her chest rise and fall against his arm. When he was certain she was asleep, he slowly moved his arm around her back to support her, and slouched down a little to make it more comfortable for both of them.

Their backs would be killing them tomorrow but if this was how she got a peaceful night's sleep, Tony could endure a few sore muscles. Pressing the power button on the remote, Tony closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of Ziva, safe and warm beside him. As he drifted off, he couldn't help uttering a silent prayer that Ziva would have no nightmares this time.

NCIS

When Ziva opened her eyes Tuesday morning, she was confused to find herself upright instead of laying down, and even more surprised to be snuggling against her partner's side. Tony was snoring softly with his mouth open slightly. She watched him for a moment, then stealthily moved away from him. But her ninja skills must've dulled a little because as soon as she was standing, Tony jerked in his sleep and his eyes opened.

"Ziva?" he asked, yawning and stretching. "Hey, are you okay?"

She fingered the edge of his t-shirt that she'd slept in. "I am fine."

Tony yawned again and checked his watch. "0530. You get up this early every morning?"

"I want to go for a run before work."

He looked her up and down skeptically. She'd been back half a month and was already back into running? What about her injuries? Not everything could've healed in two weeks. He'd seen her in Somalia and he was certain of that. Tony frowned.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? Maybe you should wait until-"

Ziva shook her head, cutting him off. "I spoke with Ducky yesterday. He cleared me to start running again if I go slowly and only one mile." She wrinkled her nose. "It is not very much."

"Sounds like enough for now," Tony said firmly. "Want me to come?"

Running in a strange neighbourhood or anywhere in the open made Ziva nervous. She shook her head. "I will take the bus into work and use the gym."

"Why take the bus?" Tony asked, getting up and cracking his back. "I've got a car."

"I do not think you were planning to go to work this early," Ziva pointed out.

Tony shrugged. "I'm sure I can find some paperwork to do." Or I might fall asleep at my desk, he thought, considering the options.

"I do not wish to be any trouble," Ziva tried to protest.

He held up his hand. "No trouble Zi. Let's just get dressed and grab a muffin or something on our way in." They both turned towards his room at the same time, exchanging awkward glances. "I'll just grab my clothes quick. Then it's all yours, promise." Ziva let him pass and waited until he came out with an armload of clothes. "Be ready in ten," Tony said, heading into the bathroom.

Back in Tony's room, Ziva unzipped her duffle bag and found the new workout clothes she had purchased just yesterday, almost as soon as Ducky said she could run again. Ziva needed to run. She wished she could run outside and feel the wind in her hair, the sun on her face, to feel free again. But nowhere except Tony's apartment felt safe right now, so she would have to run inside, on a treadmill, with no scenery flashing before her eyes.

Still, at least she would be moving, working the muscles that felt listless from lack of use. Although after having been tied to a chair for three months, she was lucky she could still walk when the team found her. Still, they had practically dragged her from the room and into the waiting helicopter. Ziva stopped her thoughts there. She did not wish to think of Somalia. She was in America now, she was home, and she just wanted to run.

NCIS

It was 0630 and Tony sat at his desk feeling like a zombie overdosed on caffeine. He needed to get his act together before Gibbs showed up. But he had a feeling he could pry his eyelids open with a crowbar right now and they still wouldn't stay that way.

If his calculations were correct, he and Ziva got a little over three and a half hours sleep total between last night and early this morning. What would he say when Gibbs came in and found him asleep at his desk, probably drooling all over his paperwork? No wait, scratch that, Tony thought. DiNozzos most certainly do not drool. Very unbecoming. He stood, stretched, and began pacing up and down the length of the squadroom. He had to stay awake somehow.

At 0645 the elevator doors opened and Gibbs got out, sipping his first coffee of the day. He stopped before entering the bullpen and watched Tony quietly. The man was so absorbed in what he was doing that he hadn't even heard the ding. Gibbs frowned. His senior field agent was never at work before him. This could only mean something was wrong.

"Ziva?" Gibbs asked, worry making his voice rough.

Tony jumped and spun around to face Gibbs. "Oh, hey Boss." He scanned the room, looking for an answer. "This isn't-this isn't what is looks like."

Gibbs raised one eyebrow and went to his desk. "It looks like you pacing in the squadroom because things didn't go as planned last night and you're worried about your partner." Tony nodded once. "Where is she?"

He frowned. "In the gym. Ducky cleared her to run yesterday." Tony's tone blatantly stated his opinion of that particular diagnosis.

Gibbs' expression was neutral. "She needs to do something Tony."

"She's not okay Boss," Tony said, hurting when he remembered. "Ziva's really not okay."

The team leader met his agent's eyes. "She needs us to treat her like a person Tony, not a victim. Don't coddle her, help her feel normal again."

"How?" Tony asked helplessly.

"You'll know," Gibbs told him. Despite the jokes and the teasing, he knew Tony was the right man for this job. He loved Ziva and that would help her more than anything else, even if it was months before Tony got up the nerve to tell her.

Tony cast a glace at the elevator and checked his watch. He wanted to be there when Ziva came up, but there was someone else he needed to see before he was stuck at his desk all day.

"Gonna go see Abby," he told Gibbs, and walked towards the back elevator, looking over his shoulder one more time before he got in.

As Tony had expected, Abby was already down in her lab waking up her babies and preparing for the day. She stopped what she was doing when she saw him, looking at him nervously.

"How was your night?" she asked finally, concerned about how he'd dealt with Ziva's nightmares.

"Short," Tony answered quickly. He shook his head. "You weren't kidding about how bad they are."

Abby's eyes filled with tears. "I wish I was." He held out his arms and she gratefully accepted the hug. "Is she going to be okay Tony?" Abby's words were muffled against his shirt.

Tony held her tighter, keeping his voice light. "Yeah, she's going to be okay Abs." He closed his eyes, seeing the terrified look in Ziva's eyes when she woke up last night. "It just might take a little longer than we'd like."

Abby sighed. "I know."

He looked at her carefully. "Keep your chin up Abby. I'll see you later. Gotta go."

Back up in the bullpen Tony was relieved to see Ziva settled at her desk, but the uncertainty in her eyes when she looked at him threw him off. Apparently the awkwardness from this morning was lasting longer than he'd hoped. Tony tossed her a smile and turned his attention to McGee after seeing that Gibbs wasn't in the room.

"I heard Abby found herself a nice shoulder to cry on last night." He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Looks like you missed your chance, McLate."

Unlike what usually happened, McGee didn't even acknowledge the statement. That more than anything else made Tony wonder if his friend had finally done the right thing and taken Abby back like he should've years ago. He walked over and began sniffing the air around McGee.

Tim pushed him away and frowned. "What are you doing Tony?"

The senior field agent shrugged. "Just checking for any lingering eau de gunpowder perfume."

McGee glared at him, not his normal reaction. "Lay off Tony. If Abby wants you to know her secrets, she'll tell you herself."

Tony backed off, sensing that this wasn't the time to push. Tim hadn't been the same since they got back and Tony was still waiting for the return of his mild mannered, easily bullied, very teasable probie. He sighed. Maybe tomorrow.

NCIS

It turned out to be a very quiet day at the office, though Gibbs kept them busy going through old case files. At least it was something Ziva could help with while she waited for her status with the team and NCIS to be clarified. Eventually all three of them were sitting on the floor in the middle of the squadroom, sheets of paper and files spread out across the floor, each leaning against their own desk.

Gibbs had disappeared, presumably for more coffee, and both Tony and McGee had discarded their jackets as the temperature in the room rose. Ziva however, never even pushed up the sleeves of her wine coloured shirt. After awhile, McGee looked at her curiously.

"Isn't it a little warm for long sleeves Ziva?" he asked, not realizing there was a reason behind her choice.

Tony knew Ziva couldn't, wouldn't tell their friend what she was hiding under those sleeves. Even he wasn't sure. He snorted. "She grew up in a desert McForgetful, heat doesn't mean anything to our ninja. Summer here is winter temperatures in Israel. I'm surprised she'd not wearing a down jacket and shivering. Get your facts straight."

McGee was surprised at Tony's outburst and noted the appreciative look Ziva gave him a moment later. Something else was clearly going on here, but for now it looked like it needed to stay between Tony and Ziva, whatever 'it' was. Tim didn't mind being left out this time, not really. He knew what it was like to want to keep something between himself and another person. What was going on with him and Abby, for example, was something he wasn't ready to share with anyone else just yet either.

A few hours late when Gibbs had finally said the two words they'd been waiting to hear, "Go home,"Tony, Ziva, and McGee gathered up their things and headed for the elevator. Abby came bouncing over from the back one, joining their group and falling in beside McGee.

"Hey, you guys want to go out for a drink or something tonight?" she extended the invitation to all of them.

Tony caught the look in Ziva's eyes and knew instinctively that being around anyone she wasn't familiar with would make her nervous. He shook his head, answering for both of them.

"Thanks Abby, but not tonight. Ziva and I have take out and movie plans, hard to compete with that." He threw on his signature grin to cover up the other emotions. "You kids have fun though."

Abby understood almost immediately and nodded, but her eyes were sad. She looked at McGee. "Timmy, I forgot something in my lab. Come with me?"

McGee did so without protesting and Ziva smiled, happy for them. Tony was just glad for a couple minutes to be alone in the elevator with her. He leaned against one wall.

"So, Chinese tonight?"

Ziva nodded without looking at him. Tony really wished she would say something. He missed hearing her voice.

NCIS

The clock had almost reached seven pm when Tony and Ziva finally arrived back at his apartment with bags full of Chinese take out. Tony dropped everything on the counter and flopped onto the couch.

"Musical night Ziva," he announced. "And I've got all the classics."

Rolling her eyes, Ziva took it upon herself to unpack their food while Tony scoured his shelves for the movies he spoke of. When she reached into the cupboard for plates, Tony's voice stopped her.

"Just bring the cartons over Zi, then we won't have to do dishes later. Ooh, and don't forget a fork," he called as she closed the drawer holding one in her hand, "I don't do chopsticks."

Ziva carefully set the cartons on the coffee table, surveying the line up of films Tony had chosen. She frowned. "Hairspray? Grease? They have movies about hair products and car fluids?"

Tony's mouth fell open. "You've never heard of Grease before, Ziva?"

She shrugged. "I have gotten it on my hands while sabotaging a car."

He winced. "Not exactly the same thing. But I won't try to explain, you'll just have to experience it for yourself."

They settled down on the couch and Tony turned the movie on. He couldn't really help himself, throwing random trivia in here and there. Like how old John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John had really been while playing high schoolers, or the fact that, for a while, it was the highest grossing movie behind Jaws and Star Wars: Episode IV.

Ziva stayed quiet and they both kept to their own cushions. They were still working on being comfortable with each other again. Tony wished it was a quicker process. He wanted them to be lounging on the couch together like they used to, not even noticing if they happened to touch accidentally or on purpose. But he had a feeling if he tried that now Ziva would either jump or hit him, he wasn't sure which.

She ate slowly, picking out all the vegetables in her chow mein first, then the chicken, eating each crunchy bean sprout separately. Ziva did not really see the appeal of the movie at the beginning, but by the middle she was getting into the music and she even smiled at the big dance-off.

Tony, who never stopped checking on Ziva frequently, was glad to see his choice was a hit.

NCIS

A couple hours later and only two movies into the four he'd picked, Tony noticed Ziva's blinking was getting slower as her body started to relax into the exhaustion she was obviously feeling. Tony was beginning to need some sleep himself, not used to being up as early as they had been that morning.

He paused the movie. "Bedtime," Tony announced cheerfully.

Ziva looked up. "What?"

Tony smiled. "Going to bed early isn't going to kill us Ziva."

She nodded slowly, but a somber mood hung over them while they brushed their teeth and put on pyjamas. It was impossible to forget what last night had looked like and neither was anxious for a repeat. They met in the hallway, regarding each other carefully.

Tony wished he could hug Ziva good night or touch her in a friendly way for reassurance, something they both needed. But she'd been keeping a safe distance between them all day, ever since she'd woken up beside him that morning. Her smile barely lifted the corner of her lips.

"Good night Tony."

He nodded. "'Night Ziva."

Tony headed straight for his bed on the couch and collapsed, deciding to sleep while he could, knowing that in an hour or two or three he'd probably be up again, but still hoping Ziva would have a peaceful sleep for once. Just thinking her name conjured up the image of Ziva laying in his bed and Tony sighed. Her in his bed and him on the couch was not exactly what he used to think about when he was sleeping. But he knew now that she deserved so much more than what he used to hope for.

Down the hall Ziva was indeed laying in Tony's bed, trying not to fall asleep. During her time in Somalia she had come to dread the night hours. In the darkness of her cell they had come to her, nameless and faceless, restraining her while other men did things that hurt and shamed her.

The torture was one thing, that she could withstand for the most part, but this was something else. In some ways it was worse than the beatings. Their actions violated not only her body, but her soul. Still, she'd been glad for the black of the darkness, because they never saw the tears that escaped to drip silently into the dust.

Struggling to stay awake, Ziva counted the seconds until minutes became an hour. But she couldn't keep it up forever. No matter how much she dreaded falling asleep and the dreams that would follow, her eyes finally betrayed her and fell closed and Ziva lacked the strength to force them open again. Sleep soon found her and much later, so did the dreams.

NCIS

It was earlier this time, 0200 when Tony heard the first scream and rushed into his room, trying to wake Ziva, aching to hold her. He got behind her on the bed, calling her name, his arms around her immediately, anticipating the struggle before she awoke completely.

For one sacred moment after she opened her eyes, Ziva relaxed against Tony. In that moment when she forgot that she could not be that close to a man, she felt cared for and safe. Then reality crashed in on both of them and Ziva's whole body stiffened and she pulled away from Tony. She sat in the middle of the bed, shivering in the aftermath of her battle with invisible enemies, not meeting his eyes.

Tony sighed. So far this looked like last night all over again. He hated what the dreams did to Ziva, and wished he had the courage to ask her about them. Instead he took in her appearance and frowned.

"Ziva, you're soaked." She was in his clothes as pyjamas again, the light gray of his t-shirt turned dark with the sweat that had poured off her of while she slept. "Why don't you take a shower," he kept trying even when she shook her head, "just a quick one, so you feel clean again. Then come out to the livingroom. Okay?"

She didn't even nod, but because she didn't say no, Tony took her silence as a yes. Her towels from last night were still in the bathroom and he walked her all the way to the door this time, wishing she would look him in the eyes so he could see how she was doing. But that would make her too vulnerable and the nightmare had already stripped her of her defenses. He wouldn't push her anymore tonight.

Once the door was closed, Tony leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath as he collected his tattered emotions. Then he walked to the closet in the hall where his apartment sized washer and dryer set was kept, and reached into the dryer for Ziva's 'Shannon' pyjamas, which had been put in the wash before they left this morning.

He took them back into his room and laid them on the bed, moving to the kitchen on auto-pilot to put water on to boil and get out the things Ziva needed to make tea. Sound of Music went in the DVD player and Tony made sure there was an extra blanket waiting for her on the couch. He wasn't sure how he knew that Ziva would be cold when she came out, he just did. She always was after the dreams.

His houseguest appeared not too many minutes later, and by then he was able to smile at her. She had an orange mug cradled in her hands and Tony held out the blanket to her first this time, so she knew what he was going to do. He didn't want to startle her again.

When she was settled, Tony pressed play. "We never even got to the best one," he grinned.

But Ziva knew he hated her favourite movie and wondered why he was doing this for her. It bothered her for several minutes before she spoke to him for one of the first times that day.

"Why are you doing this Tony?"

About to jump in with a non-serious answer, Tony looked into Ziva's eyes and realized this was not the time to be joking around. So he told her the truth, the same one from Somalia. "Can't live without you, I guess." It was on the tip of Ziva's tongue to say that was not an answer, but Tony headed off her protest.

"Let me show you that I've grown up a little since you left Zi. I just want to help."

Ziva shook her head sadly, eyes empty again. It was the same loss of purpose, like she had no reason for living, that he'd seen sitting with her in the dusty terror camp cell. He hated that expression. Looking at her now, he felt like he was losing her all over again.

"I am afraid you are wasting your time Tony," she said, eyes turned towards the uncurtained window across the room. "There is nothing that can help. I would not have you go to so much trouble for something that cannot be fixed."

"It's a good thing I didn't ask you then," he muttered, pretending he hadn't heard her because he didn't like where her head was at.

Ziva thought she was being honest, Tony thought she was giving up. Well, Ziva was going to get his help whether she wanted it or not. He'd already lost her once and he'd be darned if he let her go again. No need to tell her that though. It was his hope that she would figure it out all by herself.

They both turned their attention back to the movie and didn't speak again. Ziva made it to 'Favourite Things' before her head drooped forward. Tony paused the movie, not willing to spend another night sleeping sitting up on the couch. They both needed a real sleep desperately.

"Okay Sleeping Beauty," he declared, "time to hit the hay." Ziva looked confused but Tony just shook his head. "I stop explaining idioms after 0300 Ziva. It would only make less sense now."

He held out a hand, trying to help her stand up, but Ziva shrank from his touch and Tony did not want to think about the reasons, even if he knew they'd have to talk about it eventually. When he can't help but let his mind drift into the 'whys', it makes him sick to think of the reality that had caused Ziva to not allow herself to be touched by anyone.

Tony walked her to the door of his bedroom and gave her a half-grin. "I could tuck you in," he offered. At Ziva's sharp look, he held up his hands. "I mean that in the most innocent way you can take it," he said. But even with his explanation, Tony could see the immediate fear in Ziva's eyes as she shook her head at him and forced a smile.

"I will be fine. Thank you, Tony."

Fine? If this was what she called fine, she was definitely up a creek without a paddle. She was most definitely not 'fine'. And Tony realized that he couldn't let her pretend anymore. Another night like this would break the both of them. There had to be a way that they could both get some sleep. Then an idea crawled into his head and Tony smiled. It might just work.

NCIS

Ziva had just settled down and found a comfortable position when she heard a knock on the door and Tony slipped into the room carrying a pile of sleeping bags and blankets. Without a word, he calmly proceeded to make up a nice, thick pallet on the floor near the window, several feet away from his bed. She frowned and propped herself up on one elbow.

"Tony, what are you doing?"

He turned around, considering her. "Can I sleep in here? It's too dark in the livingroom. I'm not a huge fan of the dark."

Ziva raised one eyebrow and Tony held up his hands. "I know, I know, the great Tony DiNozzo doesn't usually admit a weakness, especially to a beautiful woman, but you may as well know now."

"Tony..." Ziva started, but the look in his eyes said he needed this just as much as she knew she did, even if she could not admit it. So she merely nodded and laid back down

Tony lowered himself to the floor. "Gee, my back is going to love this," he muttered, thinking she wouldn't hear. But Ziva still had her old Mossad instincts and she did hear.

"We could trade," she offered. "I do not feel right taking your bed and I have slept on the floor before."

"No, no," he winced, shifting, "it's all good. The floor is my new favourite place to sleep, really."

"You are sure?" she asked again.

"Very," he said firmly. "I may stay here after you leave I like it so much."

Ziva shook her head. Liar, she thought. But he was capable of being sweet, she'd give him that.

Tony got as comfortable as he could on the floor and stayed awake to watch Ziva fall asleep, before he let himself relax. For some reason, Ziva felt better because Tony was there and she smiled a little as she closed her eyes, the thoughts in her head less dark for once.

NCIS

As much as Tony had hoped it, his presence was not enough to stop the nightmares. An hour or two later Tony was replaying his time in that dusty desert room, Ziva sitting across from him with no life in her eyes, telling him that she had gotten over herself, that she was ready to die. He was getting ready to argue some sense back into her when a noise pulled him from the scene in his dream.

He sat up suddenly when the noise was repeated and Tony realized it was coming from Ziva. She jerked on the bed, whimpering again deep in her throat. Her restless moving brought back the advice Abby had given him and he jumped up, desperate to intervene before her dream got worse.

Ziva woke as soon as Tony touched her, but she allowed again the brief moment when he held her close and whispered against her hair words she could never quite make out. Too soon she was shifting away from him, offering a tight smile in the light of the bedside lamp to disguise her distress.

Tony's hands had never hurt her, but Ziva could not help comparing them to the ones that had. She flinched when he squeezed her shoulder, her mind drawn for one terrible moment back to her cell in Somalia, the memories of other men's hands gripping her body as they held her down. Because they had never seen her tears, they had never seen her weak, and in the morning she was again the emotionless Mossad assassin. But when they left, Ziva would curl into a small ball, quivering on the hard dirt floor, wishing for death to come swiftly, though it never did.

Knowing her better than she realized, Tony sensed that Ziva was not quite with him, but when he put his hand out towards her, Ziva held her own hand up.

"Stop," she ordered softly. "Please do not." She could not keep the quaver out of her voice. It was all she could do not to start hyperventilating when he reached for her. But it helped some that he did not force the issue and touch her without permission.

"Zi?" he asked quietly after several moments had gone by. He was afraid for wherever her mind was.

Ziva shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut against the images she could never erase. "Please," she begged, hating that what she wanted the most she could not have.

Tony backed off, the hurt inside him almost overwhelming as he returned to his place on the floor, his eyes never leaving the bed while he was forced to watch her suffer alone. Why couldn't she let him help? And what would he do if Ziva never let him touch her again, if she was always afraid of him? He rolled over, unable to watch what the memories were doing to her. Tony thought her torture had been over when they brought her home from Somalia. Now he found himself wondering if it would ever end.