Despite the dramatic end to that one ill-fated move night, they immediately fell back into their usual pattern. Ziva went to work five days a week and Tony stayed with Angelina. While Ziva's physical presence still did not equal a mental one, Tony's worst fear- that she could consistently refuse to hold the baby- did not come true. Just as before, she did so when necessary. No more, no less.

Gibbs kept in contact with Tony and said that even though the whole team was worried about Ziva, he hadn't divulged to them what was going on. Tony was grateful; more and more, he was beginning to feel like this was his failure. He should have been able to do something for his family, for the two people he loved the most. Whenever he went back to work, he didn't want to face the others and see pity in their eyes.

Talking to Ziva about it was risky. "You do not understand," was her standard reply when he tried to breech the subject of what the hell was going on, and then she either ignored him the rest of the night or started to cry. Neither of these results was desirable. He stopped asking.

Obviously, it had to do with the fact that from the day she found out she was pregnant, she had lacked faith that she could be a good mother. But for a very brief period, it had seemed like she felt comfortable in her new role; why had it changed so quickly? And so drastically? Was this a fluke? No. The week when they were all in domestic bliss… that was the fluke. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe he was just an unobservant idiot who couldn't tell when something was wrong.

So she never really stopped feeling unworthy, but they still had the baby; Melinda's name hadn't come up again. It was as if Ziva didn't want to give Angelina away, but also didn't want to become attached.

This was the line of thinking that led to a new, intense fear, one that made Tony's gut clench: maybe Ziva wasn't planning to stick around.

0000000000

The next major incident didn't come until Angelina was nearly six months old, but it had been brewing for a while. Ziva had grown tenser and tenser throughout the preceding weeks; like a storm cloud on the horizon, her dark, brooding moods had loomed over everybody, just waiting to release its torrents.

It was the middle of the night and silent in the apartment. Tony was back in bed after getting a glass of water and checking on Angelina; Ziva appeared to be sound asleep. He scooted over to her, rested his head on the unoccupied half of her pillow, and shut his eyes. There must have been at least a little bit of dozing, because that was the last thing he remembered before a scream next to his ear cut through his hazy consciousness. He jumped, bolted upright, and only then did he realize that Ziva was thrashing beside him, caught in the clutches of a nightmare.

"Ziva!" he said loudly. Even after he repeated it several times, she did not awaken, and now she was choking on sobs, a terrible noise coming from her throat. He winced when he did what he had to do: give her a solid slap across the face.

Her eyes snapped open and he couldn't even get out an apology before she screeched, "I killed her! I killed her, I killed my baby…"

His blood ran cold, and not because he thought she would ever do such a thing. Of course she wouldn't. It was because, by the anguish on her face, he could tell that there had been images in her mind that nobody should have to see- even worse, she believed she was responsible for them.

She continued to sob, "My baby, my baby." When he reached for her, she pushed him away, and it became necessary for him to use more physical force. He straddled her and sat on her stomach and held her wrists down beside her head. She was heaving beneath him. Trying to calm her, draw her out of the darkness, he leaned over to kiss her hair. "I just saw her. She's fine, Ziva."

As if on cue, Angelina began wailing; the ruckus had awakened her. Ziva sagged with relief and closed her eyes. "Thank you," she murmured, to God or the universe, he figured. "There she is."

"Yeah," he said, a little shakily. "Hear her going at it? Those lungs have never been healthier." Tony watched Ziva carefully as he climbed off of her, but there were no more flailing limbs. "I'll bring Angelina in so you can see her, okay?"

"Do not bring her to me. Stay with her in the nursery." Ziva sat up, grabbed a pillow and spare blanket, and handed them to him.

"What?" he asked, befuddled. "I don't need to do that. She usually sleeps through the night now-"

"Protect her," Ziva commanded, "from me."

0000000000

Unsure of what else to do, Tony did spend the rest of his night on the floor beside Angelina's crib. He awoke early, even before the baby, to the sound of Ziva moving around as she prepared for work.

She was going to work. She was acting like this was just a normal day.

Less than five hours before, she had been breaking down because of a dream that she killed her own daughter, and even after she awoke the fear that it could actually happen had persisted.

This was absolutely not normal. If normal was the sun, then this entire situation was Pluto.

He rose from the floor, groaning as his back popped, and peeked into the crib. Angelina looked peaceful, oblivious to the turmoil around her. It was silly, but he was jealous; he wished he could live in a state of ignorance, too.

But he was all too aware of what was going on, and he suddenly had an idea, so he leaned over to pull Angelina out of her crib. She began to whine, displeased with her sleep being interrupted. "Sorry," Tony whispered as he lay her on the changing table. "We gotta go for a ride."

When they came into the kitchen, her in a fresh onesie and him in jeans, Ziva was pouring coffee into a travel mug. She furrowed her brow as Tony grabbed the baby carrier, plopped it on the table, and started strapping Angelina into it. "Where are you going?"

"Work with you."

"Excuse me? You cannot bring her."

"Why? 'Cause it's against agency policy, or because you don't wanna be around her?"

Silence met his words, and he knew he'd gone too far. The look on her face was that of someone whose heart had just been shattered. Tony shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did." Ziva sighed, turned off the coffee maker, snapped the lid onto her mug. With her back still to him, she said, "I know I act indifferent toward her. I know it is not right."

This was the first time she had acknowledged her behavior as anything out of the ordinary, and it was so good to hear because she sounded more like Ziva and less like the person who had taken over her body. He took a moment to savor it, then walked over to stand in front of her. "I'm going to work with you because you've gotta talk to Ducky about this."

"Tony-"

"Ziva, this is a problem. If you won't talk to me, I think he's the next best option. Do you have a better idea?"

She averted her gaze but said nothing.

"Okay." Exhaling slowly, he dared to reach out and stroke her hair once. She leaned into his hand, which surprised but also encouraged him; his fingers became tangled in her ponytail. Then she stepped forward and put her head on his chest and he actually wanted to cry because she hadn't done that in so very long.

The air in the car on the way to NCIS was thick and wrought with tension. Nobody spoke; even Angelina seemed to understand that it was time for quiet. When they arrived, Tony parked where he always did in the garage, falling right back into that habit as if it'd never been interrupted. And then, of course, it was he who grabbed the baby from the back and held her on his hip as they trekked across the concrete to the elevator.

"I need to go upstairs first," Ziva said once they were inside.

"No." Tony hit the button for autopsy, and their descent was already in progress before he realized how forceful he'd just sounded, forceful enough to keep her from protesting. This, he thought, was either impressive or scary. Probably both.

When they arrived at the Duck pond, Tony offered Ziva his hand and she took it, albeit very reluctantly. He craned his neck, ensured that the room was devoid of both dead bodies and Palmer, before going in. Ducky looked up from his paperwork. An expression of pleased surprise crossed his face- he, along with the rest of the team (minus Gibbs), had not seen Tony or Angelina since visiting the hospital right after she was born. "Well! Hello!"

"Hey, Ducky," Tony said as the older man ambled over. "How's it goin'?"

"Good, good. Long time no see, Anthony. And you," he said to Angelina, "have already grown rather big!"

Before Ducky had the chance to go off on a tangent, Tony took a step backward. "Hey, Duck? Ziva has something she wants to talk to you about. Me and Ang are gonna wait out here."

"Oh," he said. "Certainly, my dear. Let's go sit at my desk…"

The autopsy doors swooshed shut behind them, leaving Tony alone with Angelina. He sat down on the floor, put her in his lap, and dug around in her bag for a toy. "I like this guy," he said, pulling out a small stuffed dog. Angelina giggled when he pressed it against her cheek, then took it in her tiny hands. While she entertained herself, he stared at the opposite wall and tried not to think.

An indeterminable amount of time later, Ducky emerged alone, looking troubled. Tony sighed and stood, leaving Angelina to play on the floor. "So, uh- she tell you all of it?"

"Yes, she did."

"The nightmare?"

"Yes."

"What- what's going on, Ducky?" Tony asked desperately, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't understand it and I don't know what to do. Please, just tell me you have an idea."

"That I do," Ducky confirmed, but by the look on his face, those ideas were not what they would hope for. "Her initial trepidation at becoming a mother has manifested itself into a perception which has taken root in her mind- the perception that she is a danger to Angelina. Although last night was the first time she actually had a vision of doing such a thing, Ziva has been living in constant fear of harming her baby for a while now."

Tony sighed, crossed his arms. He watched Angelina and tried to fathom how Ziva could ever think herself capable of hurting that little girl. "She didn't tell me."

"She is trying not to think about it. That's why she has been distant- both to ensure she doesn't have the opportunity to hurt Angelina, and to keep her own pain away."

"How can I help her? How can I make her see that… that she loves Angelina too much to do anything like that?"

Ducky hesitated.

"What is it?"

"I think, Anthony, that you should be aware of the risks involved here. Postpartum depression… can cause normally stable women to become extremely unstable in ways that could prove dangerous."

"What are you saying?" Tony demanded, trying not to get pissed off at someone who was only trying to help. "You aren't accusing her of-"

"I am not accusing Ziva of anything. We know that she loves her daughter, but mood disorders can cause us to lose full awareness and control of our actions. If she were to become overly stressed and Angelina was in close range, it's possible that Ziva would attack her before even realizing what she was doing."

Tony pressed his hands into his eyes, trying to block out the horrifying image now painted in front of them. "Tell me what to do."

"I very highly recommend therapy."

"She'd never agree to that."

"This is a time when you need to insist on it. Don't pressure her too much, but do be persistent. This could go away on its own, or it might not. In any case, she really should be examined further. And you also need to monitor her."

"Okay," he said, resigned to fighting the impossible battle, and glanced at the closed autopsy doors. "What's she doing?"

"She, ah… needed a moment to compose herself."

Tony sighed deeply, feeling a thousand years old, and squatted down beside Angelina. "Should we go get Mommy?" he asked. The baby made a sound similar to a huff and turned away. He met Ducky's sympathetic gaze. "We'll give her another minute."

I forgot to tell you guys- I did make some revisions to chapter one and two of this story. Nothing terribly drastic, but one kind of important thing at the end of chapter two- Ziva did not ultimately make the decision to keep Angelina. It was Tony.

Okay, yeah. Just thought I'd clue you in. Thanks for reading!