Title: Dismantle/Repair
Author: WtUnite [Chedders/Jess]
Rating: T
Pairing: Gibbs/Ziva
Status: 7/13
Category/Warnings: Established Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Spoilers: General Spoilers for all 7 seasons, roughly.
Summary: Ziva and Gibbs deal with a traumatic incident, only to rebuild a life together.
"Ziva?" Ducky approached the dark skinned woman with his coat over his arm and his hat in his hand. She had been left behind in the bullpen to do paperwork while Gibbs, Antony, and Timothy went to question a suspect almost two hours ago. The older man had just received a very distressing call from young Timothy and he had immediately left his lab in the capable hands of Mr. Palmer.
Now, he was here.
This was not the first time that she had been asked, a nice way of referring to a Gibbs' command, to stay at her desk. She understood his concern when a suspect or scene might be dangerous but that did not keep her from chaffing at the bit. Paperwork had always been awful but now it might very well be the bane of her existence.
"Hello, Ducky," Ziva greeted the Scotsman, glad for anything that would give her a break from the tedious chore of paperwork. "Did you need something?"
He paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to word what he wanted to say without alarming her too much. "You need to come with me, my dear," he stated after a moment, giving her the gentlest look that he could, knowing that everything was showing on his face and in his posture, perhaps even his voice. Ziva was very analytical, and very perceptive, she would pick up on it.
"We need to go."
Looking up from her computer Ziva paused. Generally a jovial man it was not normal for Ducky's face to look so serious. Pushing back slightly from the desk Ziva looked at Ducky questioningly. "What is it? Your tone does not engender confidence. Where is it you said that we need to go?" The way that the Medical Examiner spoke sounded very similar to the way bad news was delivered to friends and families.
"Ziva-" he cut himself off, not really wanting to give anything away here in the middle of the bullpen. Other teams were still around, and he wasn't quite sure about how she would respond to it. Reaching over, he grabbed the coat that Gibbs made Ziva bring incase it go to cold. "I think you should come with me, my dear. I'll explain on the way."
Shutting down the computer quickly Ziva stood and took the light jacket she had brought to ward off the slight chill brought on by the rain. "I wish you would tell me, you are leading me to think things I would rather not." Ziva did not allow her mind to contemplate what could have happened as she followed the medical examiner to the elevator. She did not need a vivid imagination when there were more than enough real life experiences that would explain the slightly ominous tone being used by Ducky.
Waiting until the elevator doors shut behind them, he turned to glance at Ziva. "Young Timothy called me a few moments ago. He asked that I bring you to the hospital," he answered truthfully, watching Ziva for signs of anything. He didn't know all of the exact details, because the young man had hung up the phone way too soon, but he knew enough.
"Who is injured? If it was pertaining to the case you would not have collected me." Leaning against the wall of the elevator Ziva looked far calmer than she felt. "Will you tell me what you know?" she asked, following Ducky out of the elevator to his Morgan. At another time she would appreciate the vehicle but now was not the time.
Once again he paused in his answer, opening the door to the Morgan and making sure they were both buckled up and the car was started before he answered. "I'm afraid it's Jethro, my dear. Young Timothy did not tell me much before he hung up the phone," he answered honestly again, glancing over at her as he pulled out of the NCIS parking lot and headed toward the hospital that Timothy had given to him in a hurry.
She had expected this but she had tried not to jump to conclusions. If Gibbs was not the one who had been hurt he would have called her to tell her and no other team member's injury would have sent Ducky to her side. "It is as I thought. No offense, Ducky, but they would not have sent you if it was someone else," she said rationally, feeling more anxious then she would ever admit out loud.
He nodded, reaching over to pat her hand gently. "I'm sure Jethro will be fine. Do not worry too much," he stated softly. If she got worked up, he was pretty sure that Jethro would kill young Timothy for calling him in the first place. Especially with things the way they were at this point. It took twenty minutes, because of the relentless traffic, to get to the hospital and find a parking spot.
Once Ducky made sure he had Ziva's arm slid through his, he tried calling Timothy and reached young Antony instead, who gave him instructions to come to the second floor and a room number.
The minutes of the car ride ticked by far too slowly for Ziva's taste. She endured Ducky's attempts at conversation which slowly wore down her ability to remain calm. Of course she could keep herself occupied envisioning how she would be making the trip shorter through her rather frowned upon driving methods.
When they finally arrived at the hospital it was difficult for Ziva to match her pace to that of Ducky. And this elevator ride seemed to take longer than the one allowing her to leave the Navy Yard. Everything was moving too slowly for her taste.
Ducky stepped out of the elevator, gently pulling Ziva with him. As he looked for the room number, he found it before actually seeing the door. "Damn it, DiNozzo! Give me some space-" the voice was loud and sharp, gruff and familiar, and from the other end of the hallway. Ducky walked a little faster, because even thought he voice had been familiar, it was tinged with a sharper edge that the medical examiner knew well when it came to Gibbs.
Leaving the elevator Ziva did not have much time to absorb the details of the second floor because she heard the distinct rumble that was Gibbs' voice. Hearing Gibbs' voice relieved a lot of nervous tension that had been building up in her. She let go of Ducky's arm and walked in to the room with no preamble.
Gibbs was sitting on the bed, looking paler than normal as he swatted at Tony with his right arm. Bandages covered the upper part of it, and the lack of a shirt made is easy to see the bandages that also happened to be wrapped around his torso. At first, the older man didn't notice Ziva or Ducky, too busy trying to get Tony out of his space while not falling off the bed.
Sighing in relief at seeing Gibbs relatively fine allowed Ziva to regain composure that she had almost lost her grip on. Walking over to Tony she put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him out of the way. "He needs space, move," she instructed, taking up Gibbs' hand. A small bubble of fizzled low in her stomach, but it was not something to be mistaken for movement from the baby but it was a bubble of anxiety that popped.
"Hey," Gibbs greeted, lacing his fingers with hers and tugging her closer. Ducky managed to usher the other two men out of the room, closing the door behind them and giving the couple the privacy they needed. As soon as they were alone, he pulled Ziva in between his legs, wrapping his good arm around her waist.
"I told McGee not to call. They didn't need to worry you," he stated after a moment, sighing.
"I was more worried when I knew nothing, so tell me what happened." Orienting herself to face Gibbs she traced his face lightly with her finger tips. Ziva had been worried, more so than she was willing to admit.
Leaning forward, he pressed his lips gently to hers, pulling away before he got distracted. Relaxing his hold on her, he let her touch him without moving. "Just some cuts, I'm fine. Ready to go back to work," he stated with a half smile, but obviously his pale features and the extensive bandaging said otherwise.
"You are not fine, or you would not have those," she chided, gesturing at the bandages. "So do you want to really tell me what happened or should I continue to worry?" Ziva was not worried any more but she still wanted to know what had happened, both inborn curiosity and protective instincts clamored for the truth.
Rubbing his face, Gibbs let out another sigh, keeping his eyes focused on her. He had refused pain medication earlier, but it was starting to get to him just a tad. "I got stabbed. Serrated edge. Hunting knife." he confirmed after a moment.
"I will go out on a branch to say that your assailant is in custody, though shot would make me equally happy." Though it was clear that Gibbs was not injured he was far from fine. But Ziva had an ace up her sleeve, something that would always distract him. Taking Gibbs' uninjured hand Ziva pressed it to her abdomen where light fluttering movement could be felt. Since the first time he had felt their child moving within her it was a perfect distraction for Gibbs.
The movement of their baby was enough to take his mind off the pain for a moment. He pressed his hand against her stomach lightly, his thumb moving up and down against her shirt. Reaching up with his injured arm, Gibbs cupped her cheek before leaning in for a kiss. The hand on her abdomen moved to her hip, tugging her closer until her body collided lightly with his. A soft grunt was the only sound he made before deepening the kiss a little, distracting himself again.
Bracing one hand on the bed behind him, Ziva did not allow her full weight to rest on the injured Gibbs. And it was a sufficient to distract them both for awhile. Pulling back Ziva moved so that she was tightly ensconced against Gibbs' uninjured side. Tracing over the white bandages Ziva used her excellent eye to gauge the level of injury. "You will be back at work the moment you are released, yes?" There was very little that would stop Leroy Jethro Gibbs for long.
"That was the plan," he replied almost instantly. Her light touches didn't hurt, but he was pretty sure that any extensive movement, for the time being, would. The suspect had managed to get him pretty good in the left side, even twisting it a little. He had spent the almost twenty minutes it took the doctors to stitch him up bitching at Tony, who kept apologizing and getting in his personal space.
Ziva knew the ins and outs of medical care well enough to make her own 'diagnosis.' "You will be given…two weeks worth of painkillers, which you will not take. We will say those two weeks you will not be at your peak. Those two weeks I will not stay in the bullpen while you go to a scene," Ziva said, using a tone that would brook no argument, though Gibbs was somewhat immune to her directives.
"You're not goin' anywhere. Desk duty." he stated firmly, narrowing his eyes a little. He would be even more distracted if she came to a scene with them. He'd spend his time making sure that she was safe, which left no real room for his own care or that of his other two agents. Without warning, Gibbs moved to get up from the bed, standing still until the room wasn't spinning as much. Looking around, he found his bloodied shirt hanging off the back of a chair, but first he had to psych himself up to get it.
Lifting one eyebrow Ziva gave him a look that would have frozen DiNozzo in his tracks. "I am pregnant, I am not disabled." She did not tell Gibbs to sit, it would have been the same degree futility as trying to make her stay in the bullpen if Ziva decided that she did not want to. They were both hard headed, something that allowed them to get along and butt heads within the same conversation.
Taking a step toward the shirt, he waited a moment before crossing the rest of the small distance and picking it up. As much as he didn't want to admit it, work might not be an option for the rest of the day at this rate. Glancing over at Ziva, he held the torn cotton shirt in his hand. "Yeah, with my kid. I'm distracted enough without havin' you there."
"I will not sit at that desk for the next five months. I am a field agent, not a part of the legal team. That means I work in the field, not at a desk." This was an argument that they had frequently for the last month. Both players in this scene knew their parts and though the words changed slightly there was very little headway made in the matter.
"Then you can sit at home," he barked with a slight edge, the pain getting to him for a moment. He was not going to get this cotton shirt back on. Frustrated, pained, distracted, he threw the white shirt back into the chair before grabbing the button up one. At least this one would be easier to handle. "You're not goin' out in the field, Ziva. Not now."
Moving to help Gibbs put on the shirt Ziva buttoned it as well. "I will not do that either." Unfortunately for Ziva she was in the loosing position in this argument. She could make eloquent arguments but the best end of the argument would be a stalemate for another week.
Gibbs reached down, grabbing her hands and squeezing. "If you'd have been out there today, he could've stabbed you, Ziva. It's not just you I'm worried about losin'," he stated after a moment, pulling her body against his. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his way of saying that he was done arguing for the moment.
The door to their room opened with a creak and Tony stuck his head in, looking at them sheepishly. "Ducky got them to release you, Boss. We're good to go."
The argument Gibbs used was unfair but it made Ziva relent, for the moment. "Then we will go back to work." A small bright spot appeared to the Israeli woman. "After all, you three have incident reports to write and I…do not." It was a shallow victory but it was enough for the moment.
By the time he was finished writing his report, and he had let Ziva drive them home, he was completely and utterly exhausted. Ducky had spent the rest of his day in the bullpen under the ruse of entertaining the Israeli woman when he was really keeping an eye on him. He didn't feel his best, but he didn't feel his worse either. Nothing would ever really compare to getting blown up, if he was honest. Now, he was heading up the stairs to their bedroom, ready to lie down with his girlfriend and get some sleep while he felt tired enough.
The rest of the afternoon in the bullpen was almost nice. Had it not been for the reason that Gibbs was under careful scrutiny she might have commented that turnabout was fair play. Following him up the stairs Ziva lay on the bed with feline grace and tracked Gibbs' movements with a watchful eye.
Without taking time to actually undress, Gibbs moved to lay beside Ziva, pulling her close and resting his hand on her stomach. It was a soothing mechanism of sorts, even when the baby wasn't moving. Pressing a kiss to her neck and her shoulder, he stayed silent, just as he had on the car ride home and most of the day in the bullpen.
Their relationship was silent more than most but it worked for the two of them. It was not necessary for them to constantly reassure one another of their affection because it was clearly palpable within the silence. But there was a different tone to the silence emanating from Gibbs. "You are…pensive. What is on your mind?" Ziva questioned, rising on an elbow to look him in the eyes.
"You. The baby," it was his automatic answer as he tugged her down again, not wanting her to see the look on his face. Keeping her close to his side, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and shifted, curling around her with his back to the door. Another safety precaution. He'd always slept with his body between hers and the door. "Just get some sleep."
She did not believe him, not entirely. Ziva had no doubt that Gibbs thought about her and their child a lot but that was only scraping the surface at this moment. "There is more to it than that, I believe." There was no accusation or a request for him to tell her, just informing him that she was observant enough to see deeper levels.
Tugging her tighter to his body, he didn't let go, nor did he say anything. Instead, he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and hoped that she would go to sleep sometime soon. Slipping a hand up under her shirt, he started to caress her stomach, relaxing as he kissed her shoulder once more before settling down.
Settling her hand on top of his Ziva was content to drop the issue for the moment. She would not loose sleep over it because if the matter were important Gibbs would say something. "Good night," she murmured, closing her eyes.
Gibbs waited until Ziva was asleep before he snuck out of their bedroom and down to the basement. It hurt more than he wanted to admit, in the end. Flipping on the small light, he pulled down a small box from one of the shelves before he walked over to a corner of the basement and started working on the crib that he was building for their baby. He had not yet shown Ziva what he was working on. He just couldn't sleep and working with his hands was a nice distraction.
Having been trained to sleep lightly Ziva woke up when she heard Gibbs leave their bedroom. She waited for a few minutes to see if Gibbs would come back to bed, but he did not. Getting up Ziva headed for the one place she knew that he would go: the basement. The floor boards creaked slightly under feat, heralding her arrival.
Gibbs didn't look up, his mind focused on the task at hand. His right arm ached and he felt like there was a stitch in his left side, but continued to work on shaping the wooden crib with all the strength he had. Today had been somewhat of a wake up call for him. It wasn't as if he'd never been injured, because that list was long and very interesting, but he had never been injured in a situation like this. It wasn't just himself he had to think about anymore. It was Ziva and the pregnancy and his Dad and Abby and everyone else. He spared a glance at the small box right beside his arm before he went back to working on the crib just as silently as before.
The first time that Ziva had been in Gibbs' basement she had wondered about the boat and his wood working. Now it was something she enjoyed watching him do and Ziva especially loved when he smelled of sawdust after spending an afternoon working in the basement. Seeing what it was that he was working on Ziva wondered, almost a little guiltily, if she was ruining a surprise. Leaning at the base of the stairs Ziva spoke. "Sleep is an essential, just so you know."
At first, Gibbs didn't acknowledge her presence, even after she said something. He continued to work on one of the sides for a moment longer, finishing what he had started. Without looking at her, he started to move to another side, taking his time. A minute or so passed before he actually did anything to show that he knew Ziva was there with him. "C'mere."
Ziva knew that working with wood was a vent, of sorts, for Gibbs and she would have appreciated it only for that. But to see him working on a crib for their child was something else entirely. Walking over to lean against the workbench, Ziva laid a hand on Gibbs' uninjured arm. "Do you want to talk about it now?"
"Not really," he replied almost instantly, waiting a few seconds before he put the sand paper down and looked over at her for the first time since she had arrived in the basement. She was beautiful, even with her hair a mess and still looking a little sleepy. It tugged at something in him, and Gibbs stepped closer to her, reaching just beyond her right side to pick up the small box he had pulled down earlier. "Close your eyes."
"Is that really necessary?" Ziva asked, even as she closed her eyes. Being without sight was not entirely disabling, there were other sense that could and would pick up the slack. She could hear Gibbs breathing, low and deep. She could feel his arm touch her lightly. And though it was not a real sense Ziva could feel Gibbs' gaze on her.
The serious look didn't leave his face as he opened the tin box, rifling through a few pictures of Shannon and Kelly and one of Kate. There were also pictures of Chris Pacci, Paula Cassidy, Brent Langer, and Michelle Lee. He didn't pause to look at them though, and instead he moved them aside until he found what he was looking for. Setting the tin box on the crib, he stepped forward and pressed his lips against Ziva's forehead as he snapped something around her neck before stepping back.
He didn't say anything, knowing that Ziva would come to the conclusion of what to do on her own. She always did.
Ziva could not identify the sound but waited as patiently as she could. Feeling Gibbs' lips on her forehead Ziva smiled as she felt something clasp about her neck. Taking that as permission to open her eyes she did so and saw dog tags around her neck. Picking the tabs of metal up Ziva read the name 'GIBBS, L J' on one side and looked at him. She wondered if the meaning that she had assigned to them was correct.
"Figured you'd like those better than a proposal," he offered after a moment, not entirely unsure of himself. Proposing to Shannon had been special, and had left him feeling nervous. With his other three wives, it hadn't been as hard. With Ziva, he knew that she wasn't the kind of woman to want a big white wedding. She was a lot like him, in some ways, and he had a feeling the dog tags would be something she could understand better. Something she would want more. Something that would mean a lot more to her.
Ziva rubbed a thumb lightly along the smooth metal. There were scratches and dings and in some of the grooves some dirt had collected. Bringing the two tabs to her lips Ziva kissed the back of them before settling them around her neck once more, where the fell just below the Star of David that she always wore. Without saying a word Ziva walked over to Gibbs and pulled him down in to and lingering kiss.
He immediately pulled her into his body, dominating the kiss until the need for air presented itself. Gibbs ended the kiss, pulling back just a little and watching Ziva as he let his breathing even out. Wrapping his good neck around her shoulders, he straightened up and pulled her body against his, just breathing for a moment.
As much as Ziva enjoyed their battles for dominance she was content to take the backseat in this moment. This is not how Ziva used to imagine her life. Even a year ago, when she and Gibbs occasionally had sex against the boat, she would not have imagined it like this. The funny thing was that she was content and had no plans to change that.
Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he stepped back far enough so that he could tilt her head back and look her in the eye. "Ready for bed?" he asked, knowing that now he could probably fall asleep after she did. It was something he was used to doing, and even on days when he was utterly exhausted, he never fell asleep before Ziva.
The mention of their bed, so warm and inviting, reminded Ziva that she was tired. It was not very late but today had been long and exhausting, both emotionally and physically. Without saying anything Ziva took Gibbs' good hand in hers and gave a light pull as she walked towards the stairs.
Gibbs made sure the crib was covered up again before he followed her dutifully, turning off the light once they reached the top of the stairs. Going up the second set of stairs took a moment longer, but once at the top he felt a lot better than he had at the bottom. He let go of her hand when they entered the bedroom, taking his time as he stripped down to his boxers.
Usually they spooned at night, but it wasn't going to be that way for a little while. Instead, he laid on his back and held out his arm, giving Ziva one of his smiles.
Ziva lay on the bed facing Gibbs and put her hand in his. It was different not to feel the warm, solid weight behind her but she was nothing if not adaptable. With a muttered goodnight for the second time that night Ziva closed her eyes and her exhaustion allowed her to drift off to sleep within minutes.
This time, he didn't climb out of the bed as soon as she fell asleep. Instead, he tugged her close to his body, kissing the top of her head before he closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep as well.
