Back to the Present: Yes, it's time for another, post-accident Tony-chapter in-between.

Reviews: Because writers are really needy when it comes to reviews I would really like to thank - once again - those of your who do and, incessantly so, would really like to urge - once again - those of you who don't to drop me line of their thoughts. After all, this chap alone is about 10,000 words long, so I deem my innocent request only fair ;)


Chap 9 A Gallery of Faces

Saturday, November 16th 2018

3800 Reservoir Road, N.W. - Georgetown University Hospital

Tony awoke to utter silence and a massive cramp in the back of his neck. He had fallen asleep in the chair by Ziva's bed and had spent hours of restless slumber waking himself up whenever his head tilted forward in his endlessly uncomfortable sitting position. For a brief moment of bliss he thought that everything had been just a very bad, very subconsciously sick nightmare. It wasn't. When his eyes fell on Ziva in that hospital bed, just lying there with a ventilator taking up breathing for her, he knew. It wasn't. Ziva had been in an accident. Ziva was in a coma. He had never felt so alone in his life, not even when his mother had passed away. The eight-year-old Tony DiNozzo had found solace in the childish illusion that his own father would eventually snap out of it and take care of him like mommy had. But now, now was different. Forty-something Tony DiNozzo neither knew anybody he wanted to look to for care and comfort but the very person that lay unconscious before him, nor had he allowed himself to indulge in childish illusions ever since.

The morning nurse must have opened the curtains without waking him. As the hazy morning sun was replacing the artificial neon tube Ziva appeared even more lifeless than last night. Her tanned skin only faintly set itself apart from the dull whiteness of the pillow, a wan silhouette against pastier backdrop. He looked at the clock on the far wall of the hospital room: It was nine to eight in the morning. He didn't remember when he had finally fallen asleep. Sitting here, just looking at her, waiting, doing what he had been doing all night last night didn't let this new day appear any different. It seemed like an endless assault, an endlessly draining assault.

He didn't know why, he didn't even ponder the why, but he kept staring at her for another hour, dragging minutes along with him. He vaguely mumbled greetings at nurses that came to check Ziva's vitals. He might even have declined a bite to eat. He didn't actually remember. He just sat staring at her. That's why he didn't even notice the door open behind him. He didn't even notice that person's footsteps to be so much heavier, so much slower than any nurse's that had made an appearance so far. He didn't even notice Gibbs coming to a halt right next to his chair, the older man's piercing sapphire eyes scanning Ziva's body up and down. He didn't even notice the pained look that swiftly settled on Gibbs' face.

"You gotta eat", Gibbs stated plainly, making his presence known.

Tony simply looked up at the man he secretly viewed as the father figure he had never had, staring blankly at the side of his face. Gibbs wasn't looking at him, his eyes were planted on Ziva's face. Tony couldn't help but notice wrinkles on Gibbs' face he had never seen before. They certainly hadn't erupted on Gibbs' face overnight, but Tony had never noticed them before. For some reason he found those deep lines on his mentor's face more fascinating than anything else at that moment.

"Vending machine's down", Gibbs continued, finally tearing his eyes away from the frail figure on the bed and resting his eyes on Tony's unfocused stare, "We gotta go to the cafeteria."

It took a few heartbeats longer for Gibbs' words to register in Tony's mind. When he had finally made sense of it, Tony turned back towards Ziva, a quiet 'But' slipping from his dry lips.

"Nurses got your cell number in case anything happens", Gibbs returned calmly, "We won't be far."

Tony nodded his head and got up. This time he hardly recognized the prickling pain that spread in his legs. Somehow that sensation was the only thing that made him feel alive right now, as if he was actually there. "She won't run away, right?", Tony quipped half-heartedly, the smile he tried to plaster on his face contorting to a pained grimace.

Gibbs led his former Senior Field Agent down to the first floor, their walk through the halls of the hospital remaining completely silent. He didn't feel the need to say anything and right now he doubted Tony would have much appreciated him saying anything. It wasn't Gibbs' thing anyway. He was there, that's how he handled grief. And if need be, he would say what he thought needed to be said. It wasn't actually as easy as that, but sometimes he just needed it to be. When they stepped into the cafeteria it was almost empty. The faces of its scattered occupants looked grim, most of them having spent the night or were pulling early mornings for terminal relatives, withering patients. Tony tried to shake the thought of him being among their dreary ranks and accepted the tray Gibbs was handing him. Walking along the counter he arbitrarily chose a sandwich and whatever drink closest to it and quickly left in search for the seat furthest away from the faces he knew were not much unlike his own. Gibbs simply observed, taking nothing for himself, and eventually followed Tony, sitting down opposite him on a table nearby.

Tony had already ripped the re-usable package off the sandwich and was eyeing that which would be his breakfast wearily. With a sigh he took a small bite of it, chewing slowly and heavily. Gibbs had his forearms propped up on the table and was watching him with an indiscernible expression on his face. "Went by Abby's and McGee's on the way here, kids are still sleeping", he informed calmly.

Tony nodded, taking his second disgruntled bite. "How are they?", he mumbled.

"You do what you can, they'll be fine."

Tony swallowed. "Meaning?"

"I'll stay with Ziva, you go, get them home", Gibbs instructed easily, his voice unwavering.

Tony immediately put the sandwich down and interjected, "No way. I gotta stay and-"

"You help no one by sitting there and staring holes at her bed."

"She needs me there", Tony argued, his voice gaining the heaviness of emotion.

"Your kids need you."

"And you know that how?"

"Because Ziva's hooked up to a ventilator up there and they'll remember every minute you weren't there", Gibbs challenged, the calm evenness gone from his tone.

"She'll remember."

"I'll stay, you come back when they're settled."

"Just who do you think you are?", Tony blurted out suddenly, his voice louder than he had intended. People turned their heads momentarily but neither Tony nor Gibbs noticed.

"I'm the one who watched Ziva take care of those kids while you were off rubbing elbows", Gibbs retorted.

"Oh, that's what this is about?", Tony scoffed, a derisive laugh escaping his lips.

"You don't know what this is about."

"You think? You think I don't know what's going on here? I'm fucking Patrick Jane!"

"Man up, will ya?", Gibbs hollered, "You can't change what happened, so deal with it."

"Ah...that's rich. 'Cause you're an expert on the subject of dealing, aren't ya?", Tony sneered, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms in front of his chest, "What does the big L.J. Gibbs suggest I do? Go downtown and gun down the guy who rammed Ziva's car? That's your idea of dealing, isn't it? Well, here's news for you: I'd have to go to the morgue, because my little Pedro Pocket didn't have the decency to live long enough so I could kill him."

An eerie pause settled between the two men, bloated and waning. Tony was catching his breath from his rant while Gibbs continued to stare at him. "You finished?", Gibbs asked nonchalantly.

"I actually wanted to throw in a few pieces comparing you to the Count of Monte Cristo and Bill, the Carradine version, you know? But other than that... Yes, it pretty much came out the way I wanted", Tony assessed blankly, his arms still folded and his eyes wide with emotion, "I'm good."

Gibbs nodded and got up. "94 Hulland Drive."

"Come again?", Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Abby's and McGee's place, got a new one three months ago", Gibbs clarified and took a few steps towards the doors before he stopped again. "She'd want you with them, not her." Then he left.


94 Hulland Drive, Apartment 2

Tony didn't follow Gibbs back upstairs. He knew Gibbs would stay by Ziva's side, unflinching and unmoving, for as long as it would take Tony to get the kids settled down. Problem was, though, Tony had no idea how he was supposed to do that. His thoughts were everything but settled, how was he supposed to get anybody settled down then? What did that mean anyway? Get settled down… He had no idea. He had spent minutes just staring at Ziva's car down in the hospital parking lot, realizing again and again that everything wasn't just a bad dream. It was real, sickeningly so. Instead of sitting behind the steering wheel of her own car, Ziva was upstairs in a hospital bed. For some reason he needed to repeat that very fact over and over to himself. It seemed so unreal. A coma. He knew that it wasn't that bad of a thing, it helped her body recuperating, mending but frankly, Tony didn't give a damn. He wanted her back, alive and conscious - the whole Ziva-package. How he would have loved to endure her chastising, her persistent stares, her narrowed eyes, her menacing look because he was doing it all wrong, for handling it all wrong. He would have given the world to have her ninja-killer-look gleaming back at him right now.

When he arrived at McGee's and Abby's apartment half an hour later he couldn't help but think how he must have looked like the perfect sitcom-ised caricature of himself just standing in front of their door, arm raised and fist clenched, yet unable to bring his knuckles to make contact with the wood.

"You might wanna try knocking at some point, Tony", McGee's voice from inside the door made him jump.

"How'd you do that, McPrecog?", Tony cried out, looking around suspiciously, his position unchanged.

"I installed wide-angle cameras and sound sensitive EWS all over the place", McGee explained lightly, still talking to a closed door, "And you've been looking like a perfect still life for ten minutes now."

"The boondocks' shotgun is a McGeek's alarm system, huh?"

"More like a forensic-specialist-mommy-to-be's alarm system, but you get the picture", McGee retorted, finally opening the door to greet his former co-worker with a slack smile.

Tony let his arm fall limply to his side, realizing that he was probably getting a tennis elbow anyway. He finally stepped into the apartment, his gaze momentarily resting on the tech-quipment by the door that drove a small smile onto his face. "Right, how's that coming anyway?", he asked randomly, trying to rub away the familiar prickling in his right arm.

"On hold…for the time being", McGee answered sincerely, welcoming back the heaviness of the situation, "How's Ziva?"

"Hanging in there."

"So… You here to get the kids?", McGee inquired, leading the way into the adjacent living room.

"Yeah, Gibbs is staying with Ziva. Thought I'd get them home and settled down, you know?", Tony answered, his voice void of color.

McGee looked right through it. When Gibbs had come by their apartment in the morning to check with them about David and Tali, he and Abby had gotten into a little argument whether it would be best for them to stay here or go back home with Tony. They had eventually agreed that Ziva would have wanted their children with their father, his recently little experience and practice as a father to both of his children notwithstanding. Somehow McGee had heard Gibbs phrase the whole matter in just the same way as Tony had just now.

"They're in the nursery with Abby", McGee informed quickly, receiving only an irreverent nod from Tony, "We tried explaining the coma to them, but they were pretty shaken by the accident as it was. I don't know how much Tali's actually understood, but I think she gets that Ziva's not okay. And David… He's kinda keeping it bottled up."

Tony kept nodding along to McGee's briefing, his eyes focused on the door across the room that led to the bedrooms. He didn't really know what to do now. It had been so clear so far: get to McGee's and Abby's place, knock on the door and get inside. He'd already failed the second part of his clear-cut plan, and the difficult one was yet to come. "Did they sleep?", he asked the first thing that came to his mind. Remembering he didn't get much himself, it seemed like a logical thing to ask.

"Abby stayed with Tali in the nursery, but I guess they both didn't get much sleep. I checked up on them a few times and they were awake almost every time. David nodded off at some point and I carried him over to our bedroom. He looked peaceful enough", McGee ended with a small smile.

He had spent the whole night sitting at his computer at the desk in their bedroom, doing background research on the list Gibbs had given him only an hour prior to the accident. Seeing as they had gone into full panic-aversion-mode from then on he hadn't had time to do it before and he had sort of needed the distraction - sleep hadn't been an option and neither had been leaving David alone. Without Ziva and her contacts he hadn't uncovered anything useful to their case, but then again, he doubted getting actual work done had been the actual purpose.

"Thanks Tim", Tony said sincerely.

"You would have done the same for us", McGee returned just as sincerely. Tony, however, wasn't quite so sure about that. At the moment he wasn't quite so sure about a lot of things and one of them was the belief into his own ability to pull any of this off, but he nodded despite himself.

Tony hadn't even realized that they had left their spot in the middle of the living room, surprised when McGee opened the door to the nursery to reveal Abby, Tali and David perched on the floor. Tali was sitting in Abby's lap across from David, some sort of board game between them. Abby was quietly instructing Tali as to the next steps of the game, a smile on her face that appeared a hundred watt dimmer than her usual beaming Abby-ness. David seemed to be actually trying, but Tali's half-heartedness was so obvious Tony's heart broke.

"Look who's here", McGee announced with some faux enthusiasm.

"Tony", Abby realized, the sound of relief in her voice somewhat relieving Tony as well. Tilting her head, she whispered into Tali's ear, "It's daddy."

Tali merely turned her head to confirm her Auntie's statement but quickly focused back on the game. David, however, stared at Tony and Tony kept staring back. The little boy seemed entirely unsure how to react, what to do. Tony knew he should have said something, anything to comfort him or reassure his son's reservation, but nothing came to mind. For once Tony DiNozzo didn't know what to say. Children in general had always been kind of a sore subject for Tony. While his sarcasm and jokester-diploma would work its charm on most adults - or at least repulse them immediately - children simply weren't prone to sarcasm, irony and movie-references. But those were his children. Still, though, his first instincts he couldn't act upon and that added to the awkwardness of the situation.

"Now you can go home, to your own rooms and your own games and toys", Abby said, trying to sound cheerful and calming at the same time.

"We won't stay here with Auntie Abby and Uncle Tim?", David inquired cautiously.

"No, buddy, you're gonna come home with me", Tony stated finally, taking a few steps towards his son and crouching down in front of him, "But I'm sure Auntie Abby and Uncle Tim will come visit really soon."

The little boy looked up at McGee, who was still standing in the doorway. McGee nodded affirmatively. "Okay", David agreed quietly, moving to put away the game they had been playing all morning.

"Mommy home?", Tali asked tentatively, turning to face Abby with hopefully widened eyes.

"No, Tally-Wally, mommy won't be home. Remember what we talked about? How mommy's sleeping really tight right now?", Abby answered gently, brushing some wayward curls out of the little girl's face.

"'Cause of the accident, Tali", David added gravelly. Tali nodded her head slowly, looking down at her hands.

"Mommy's in the hospital right now, but we'll go see her tomorrow, I promise", Tony said, turning to his daughter but Tali didn't look up.

"I wan' my mommy now, Aun'ie Abby", Tali sighed, sounding as if the last few hours had merely been some kind of waiting game and she was ready now for it to be over, sounding as if Ziva and she were merely playing hide and seek and she was ready now to give up and for Ziva to come out of hiding.

"She can't come right now, sweetie."

"Make mommy come?", she asked sweetly, staring holes into Abby's eyes.

"That's not so easy, Tali", Abby answered morosely, her voice catching in her throat.

"Unca M'ee?", she tried again, turning to McGee now.

McGee sighed and finally crossed the distance between the doorway and their exchange. He kneeled down in front of his niece-of-choice. He opened his mouth, the first syllable seemingly hanging on his lips. A weak smile formed on his face. "I can't make her come either, sweetheart."

"Unca 'ibbs can!", the little girl exclaimed resolutely, her features brightening with the new idea. Uncle Gibbs could do anything. Uncle Gibbs always got mommy to do things. Uncle Gibbs was mommy's boss, he could just as well get her to come home.

"No, honey, not even Uncle Gibbs can make your mommy come home right now", Tony relented quietly, trying to catch his daughter's eyes but Tali was determinedly staring at McGee, "Only the doctors can make mommy wake up and come home with us. And they can't just now."

Tali's expression darkened and her eyes started brimming with tears. "Wanna stay here", she sniffled, turning her head into Abby's shoulder.

Tony looked at Abby with narrowed eyes, but the Goth was gaping back at him just as helplessly. Both David and Tali were still wearing the clothes Ziva had put on them the day before, they hadn't slept in their own beds, they weren't in their familiar surroundings. Tali didn't even have Shim with her. Tony could have gotten some things from their apartment to bring back here, but there was no way around it. Going home was the right thing to do. Tony had known from the beginning that it wouldn't be easy. He had been building thin layers of trust with his daughter while Ziva had been around to comfort and understand her hesitation. But now…

"We gotta go home, Tali. Don't you wanna go home to your things and your room? To Shim?", Tony tried a different approach, remembering the hippo's name from when Ziva had asked him to fetch it after Tali had left it in the living room before bedtime the other day. Tali nodded her head against Abby's shoulder.

"It's gonna be so much better than here with all the baby games and baby toys. Your things are so much cooler, home's much more fun than here", Abby asserted exaggeratedly, caressing Tali's cheek.

Tali mulled this over in her mind for a while. Then she raised her head and looked right into Abby's eyes. "You come too?", she requested sincerely.

"Sweetie, I don'-"

"Sure thing. Your Auntie Abby will come right along with us", Tony cut in, shooting Abby a charmingly quick smile before raising his eyebrows expectantly at his daughter.

Tali glanced at her father briefly and then nodded her okay. Abby refrained from glaring at Tony. She knew how hard this was on him. Rebuilding trust and relationships with his children hadn't been an easy feat with Ziva still around to lessen the blows, but with Ziva in the hospital and the added weight of her condition - this whole thing was anything but easy. She figured going with them and making sure they were alright for the time being wouldn't hurt. Tony seemed content enough. Having Abby there would ease them into the transition, he hoped. He just couldn't start them on daddy-dearest-treatment cold turkey. It wouldn't have been fair and he doubted it would have worked in the first place. He turned to his right. David had already gotten up from the floor and had observed their exchange silently thus far. The little boy shrugged his shoulders. That was good enough for Tony as well. He straightened up too and reached down to pick Tali up, but the little girl immediately shrunk away from his approaching hands, burying herself deeper into her Auntie Abby.

"Come on, Tali, let's go home", Tony appealed to his three-year-old daughter, a trace of desperation already imminent in his voice. She shook her head adamantly. Tony sighed exasperatedly. "But you just said-"

"Tony", Abby warned, watching a first tear run down Tali's face.

Abby's tone reminded Tony painfully of Ziva's at breakfast three days ago. He watched his daughter inhale sharply, trying to keep tears at bay that had been threatening to fall for quite some time now. His expression softened visibly. It pained him to see his daughter hurt so much and still, he couldn't seem to find anything to help her, ease her pain. "Princess…", he called out gently, crouching down in front of her again.

"Azov oti", the little girl whispered, slapping at the hand Tony was about to reach out once again.

He looked first at Abby and then at McGee, but both vaguely shook their heads. They had no idea what the little girl was saying. They were pretty sure it wasn't anything in Tony's favor, but they knew way too little Hebrew to be absolutely positive. Tony tried hard to resist the urge and pull his daughter into a hug. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her and it killed him that he seemed to play a major part in causing her pain. "Tali, look at me", he pleaded.

"Azov oti", she repeated, a little louder this time.

"Don't you wanna go with your daddy, Tali?", Abby inquired.

"No", the three-year-old shook her head.

Abby looked up just in time to see the pain run across Tony's face. The proudest man she knew being rejected by his own daughter and her heart went out to him. Then again, however, he had left. Again and again he had said goodbye to his little daughter. Abby knew and she somehow understood why Tony had done it, but in the mind of a little girl her daddy had rejected her time and time again - and it was payback-time. McGee didn't even try stealing a glance at Tony. He kept his eyes firmly planted on Abby and Tali.

Tony felt completely crushed inside. "Tali…"

"Azov oti, bevakasha!", Tali screeched, her eyes wide and her body going rigid in Abby's lap.

"Tali!", Abby cautioned, taken aback by the three-year-old's outburst. Granted, she had seen Tali throw tantrums, but this seemed different and she couldn't exactly pinpoint why. The one her outbreak was directed at had changed, that's for sure. Neither of the three knew what to say, how to react. McGee and Tony looked just as dumbfounded as Abby did.

Suddenly David turned up next to Tony and held out his hand to his little sister. "C'mon, Tali", he insisted calmly, "Let's get our things."

The little girl looked up at her big brother for a moment, eyeing his hand suspiciously. Then she pushed herself out of Abby's lap, took his outstretched hand and let herself be guided out of the door and, presumably, into the foyer where she had discarded her things the day before. The adults in the room could do nothing but look on, speechless and astonished by what had just happened right in front of their eyes.

"If I'd known it was that easy…", Tony perked up first, his eyes still transfixed on the doorway.

"That…you don't see everyday", McGee muttered.

"They have a whole sibling-bond thing going for them, huh?", Tony inquired, lightness returning to his tone, regardless of its utter superficiality. He straightened back up.

"You know how much it matters to Ziva that they get along well as brother and sister", Abby retorted, accepting McGee's hand to get up from the floor. Narrowing her eyes at Tony, however, she added sharply, "Ah right, you don't." With that she left the room to check on the kids' progress with their shoes and coats.

Only faintly surprised by Abby's last comment, McGee put a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I wouldn't read too much into it. The whole thing's just…really getting to her."

"And who are we talking about exactly? Abby or Tali?"

"Abby", McGee answered definitely, putting his lips into a thin line.

"Was afraid you'd say that, Timmy", Tony nodded, smiling crookedly.


West Clark Street, Apartment 7

They eventually left in separate cars. While the kids rode with Abby, Tony was alone in Ziva's car once again. Somehow, he sitting behind that steering wheel was fast becoming the embodiment of their entire situation. He had no idea how he was going to set things right again. Things weren't right. Far from it. As long as the love of his life and the mother of his two children was in a coma, unresponsive, nothing was right, nothing was. He didn't want to go and promise everything would be alright, somehow, sometime - neither to himself nor to his kids. He didn't want to promise something he couldn't be sure was a promise he could keep. He remembered all those people who had promised him, eight years old and yearning, that everything would be okay again, his mother would be okay again. When she hadn't been, the hope he had piled up because of them had almost crushed him. No, he wouldn't promise uncertainty. Other than that, he wasn't sure about anything.

When they entered the apartment he thought he saw something of an apologetic look on Abby's face. The corners of her mouth lifted faintly and he nodded his head. She had been right after all, he knew that. Then his eyes fell on Tali struggling with getting out of her new coat. He bent over to help her, but the moment his fingers grazed the thick fabric the little girl flinched.

"Lo Aba!", she turned and pulled away from him immediately. Her eyes were burning with angry tears. She struggled out of her coat and threw it on the floor. "Histalek! Azov oti!", she yelled angrily and ran off.

Tony leapt after her and watched her rush up the stairs before he felt something or somebody holding him back. Turning around, his eyes fell on David gripping the hem of his jacket. Tony raised his eyebrows questioningly at his son. "She said leave her alone", the little boy demanded plainly.

"Now, I can't exactly leave her alone, can I?", Tony returned through gritted teeth, slowly losing his patience with everything that had been going wrong lately. There were days when you just shouldn't have gotten up in the morning - this was definitely one of them.

"She wants you to, so you should", the six-year-old declared resolutely, letting go of Tony, "You don't listen."

Tony stared at his son for another moment, finding the same emerald eyes staring back at him. Then David turned away and stalked off after his little sister. Tony felt a wave of déjà-vu seizing his insides. "What just happened?", he wailed, looking around only to find Abby look back at him, her expression almost bashful.

"They just want their mommy, Tony", Abby mumbled, trying hard to look away from his blank face but failing.

"Do you really think I don't know that, Abs?", he shot back, his eyes not leaving the foot of the stairs where his son and crying daughter had just vanished, "Do you think I don't know that all they want is their mommy and I simply-" He broke off.

A lump had formed in his throat, he couldn't say it. He just couldn't say it out loud. Instead, the image of her body, bruised and broken, choked by the insufferably white sheets of that hospital bed, started flashing in front of his tired eyes. Ziva. The Mossad assassin, the woman who could kill with paperclips and credit cards, put in a coma by a drunk driver. The fact the guy had died on impact wasn't very consoling either, it just couldn't outweigh the facts. He couldn't help her. Heck, he didn't even know if she would ever wake up again

"They are used to the way Ziva handles things", Abby tried again, this time putting more sympathy into her voice.

She didn't mean it as an accusation either. It just was what it was: Ziva had her way with their kids and Tony slightly lacked in that department. He wasn't a bad guy. He wasn't a bad father either, Ziva had told her so herself - more than once. He just wasn't giving himself enough credit and he had a habit of not trying hard enough when things were getting difficult. Now, their situation hadn't been an easy one to begin with. And it hadn't gotten easier with time.

"Just that I don't know how Ziva handles things", Tony lamented, running his hands through his hair in exasperation.

"You don't need to", Abby answered simply, "What you need is to find the Tony-way of handling things."

"Abby, my son's gone all Mr. Hyde on me and my daughter treats me like Kryptonite", he stated sardonically, staring blankly at Abby's determined face.

"That is so not true", she countered forcefully, taking a step towards him, "Tali… She just doesn't know you, Tony. Try getting to know her, try getting her to trust you and you'll see… She's all you." Abby added the last part with the hint of a smirk Tony couldn't help but mirror, if just for a second. "And David is like Ziva. He wouldn't let you see it, but he's just really, really scared and he gets it out of his system by lashing out. That boy worships you, the you he knows, but you're not really acting like yourself right now. If anything you're the Mr. Hyde here."

"If David really is like Ziva I'll be lucky to survive the night", Tony muttered absentmindedly, his eyes diverting to the foot of the stairs, checking his son wouldn't hear.

"He's actually quite the smart kid that one", Abby smiled proudly, "Understanding."

"I thought you said he was like Ziva?", Tony quipped, trying to feel like the smirk he was putting on.

"He is."

Tony half-nodded. She was right, again. Only six years old, David had taken charge in each Tali-confrontation today when they all had been at a loss as to what to do. "He totally gets Tali, doesn't he?", Tony mused.

"That's kinda his thing actually. He just gets people", Abby explained, nodding her head at what she deemed the slight progress they were making, "He'll just sit at Ziva's desk in the bullpen and draw a picture or read those Hebrew fairy tales Ziva is writing down with him. And people will come and go and talk and not talk and he'll just sit there and listen. And at the end of the day he'll ask why Uncle McGee is sad or why his mom's angry or why his Uncle Gibbs isn't telling somebody something. And I mean, you wouldn't know what to say 'cause you hadn't even realized that McGee was sad or that Ziva was angry or that Gibbs was keeping secrets again. He'll just know… Totally amazing that kid."

Abby was beaming at him but Tony felt even more miserable than before. He didn't even know his own children. He had turned out like… He didn't even need to tab into his vast pool of movie-references there: Had turned out like his own father. And Senior - he had never had his own way, let alone known what to do with his only child. Tony was gazing back at her with doubt written all over his face, "Why the hell did she do that?"

"Tony, I seriously doubt Ziva got herself into a coma on purpose."

"No! No, I mean-", he let his eyes sink to the floor and mumbled, "Why did she ever let me go to Spain?"

"Wasn't her call to make", Abby stated simply, shrugging her shoulders.

His look seemed defeated. He knew it hadn't been Ziva's choice, it had never been. He had asked her opinion alright, but she had never given him an answer, claiming that it simply was not her choice but his. And she had supported his choice, regardless. He had already been thousands of miles away on the other side of the Atlantic. She had known all along what he had wanted, what had built up throughout the months beforehand as less of a choice but more of a logic consequence.

They had once again been part of a from-start-to-finish scheme, meticulously woven by one Tobias Fornell and one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. They just hadn't realized that they had been a vital factor in the big-boy game-play in that it had been just as vital they be as clueless as anybody else. In the end it had played out just the way Fornell und Gibbs had planned it all along. They had not only caught a murderer but also his accomplice and an entire cartel-in-the-making. For Tony, however, it had been the last straw after years of assembling a fine collection of straws he would have been able to braid a set of hats with by then. Having been the Senior Field Agent under Gibbs for almost eighteen years he would have expected - an entirely futile expectation it seemed - to be somehow invited into the loop, to somehow make it onto the need-to-know list.

When he hadn't, however, the opportunity of a highly coveted mission in Spain had been perfect for much needed venting. At first it had been arranged as a job-for-two with Ziva assigned alongside him. His partner in job and life, however, had just given birth to their second child and had had no intention of leaving their three-year-old son and their baby daughter alone and possible orphans by embarking on a high risk mission somewhere in the West of Europe. Tony had taken on the mission anyway, managing perfectly well - so well even that Vance had offered him a permanent position on behalf of SECNAV. It had been a one-chance-only, one-person-only kind of deal he had eventually agreed on. Rule #38 just didn't cut it any longer. And suddenly, Tony was leading his own team, leading his own department and consequently leading his young family to lead a very separated kind of life.

Tony scoffed, "One hell of a call I made."

"David's right, you don't listen", Abby snapped, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Again?", he groaned, his eyes conjuring Abby's softer side to return to him, "What did you do to soft-Goth oxymoron-Abby?"

"Tony, I don't care if you don't like what I'm saying. Of course, it would really help if you'd listen to what I'm saying, even if you don't like what I'm saying. All I care about are those kids who want everything back to how it was", Abby retorted and started to pace, her voice dangling between high-pitched fury and gentle understanding, "I know it's hard and I know you're hurting because of Ziva but Ziva isn't gone. She'll come back. She'll come around. I know you're afraid she won't, but that's Ziva we're talking about. She's like Ayers Rock with a creamy surprise. She'll pull through it. And you're not the only one hurting here. They are hurting too, Tony. There are two small children up there and they need all the help and sympathy they can get. From you, from their father. If you need a spell of sympathy, get plastered and weep to the cab driver of your choice... And no, that's not a real suggestion."

"I'm trying, Abs", Tony countered, his jaw clenching yet disregarding the Goth's strange references.

"Then try harder. Don't you think they deserve that much?" Tony looked appalled by the mere insinuation. "Yeah, I thought so."

"You did?", Tony posed diffidently.

"Tony, I think you're a great dad if you wanna be", Abby relented, her eyes lightening up, "But you have two really great kids up there who are completely terrified right now, so it's kinda time you got your act together… I mean, get a grip on yourself. You chase psycho killers for a living, man."

"And I'm good at it too…", Tony mused, tilting his head to the side, "But this…here…right now… It's scaring the shit outta me."

"Good", Abby nodded.

"Good?"

"Yeah, you're finally taking this seriously."

"Abby, I've never taken this anything but seriously."

"No, I don't mean 'I'm so down in the dumps, please pity me'-seriously. I mean damn-it-macho-seriously", Abby exclaimed heartily, her eyes widening, "Tony-seriously."

Tony stayed quiet for a moment, just staring at Abby and pondering what she had just said. "Tony-serious, huh?", he smiled a feeble smile.

"Yeah, you know? The butch with a lacing of compassion kind", a small smile tugged at her lips.

"She really is going to come around, you know", he stated earnestly, his emerald eyes burning into hers.

"Oh God, I hope so", Abby cried out and flung herself at Tony, hugging him tightly.

"Hello? She's Ziva. She's gone through worse", he asserted heavily, trying to convince himself as much as Abby, "This is just a dent in her superwoman-résumé. A little tumble on the way to the jungle."

"Or manganese symproportionating to manganese dioxide", Abby joined in eagerly. Tony quickly pulled away and looked at the forensic specialist with his forehead scrunched up in wrinkles, a skeptical look on his face. Abby reacted intuitively, "Symproportionation's a special case redox reaction where the same elements with different oxidation numbers will react so as to kinda recreate that element with an oxidation number intermediate to-" Tony's look of deep-wrinkled skepticism didn't change, however, causing Abby to break off.

Biting her bottom lip, Abby asked tentatively, "Less sophisticated cheers?"

"Humor me, please?"

"Bumaye, Ziva!", Abby cheered enthusiastically, punching the air around her with her fists.

"Ah… gratuitously destructive with a splash of gothic genius", Tony slurred hoarsely in full impersonation-mode, "I like it." Abby smiled proudly.

Abby and Tony eventually agreed he wouldn't need her there as back-up for the rest of the afternoon slash evening. Noticing the irresolute expression on Tony's face, however, Abby assured him that she wouldn't let her cell out of sight and even go to sleep with it right next to her in case anything happened. Knowing he could count on her support and help sort of reassured Tony enough to jump the shark. So, after bidding Abby goodbye he found himself knocking softly on the door to his son's room only a few minutes later. He didn't get an answer, though. That much he had actually expected. He had also expected, however, to receive some sort of semi-harsh reaction afterwards. When that didn't come, Tony felt at least safe enough to open the door. He stayed in the doorway, but what he saw broke his heart: Tali was lying on her brother's bed, tightly asleep, while David was sitting on the ground, playing. He didn't look up when Tony decided to cross the room and sit down on the floor next to his son, leaning back against the bedframe.

While David astutely continued to ignore him, Tony found the time to look around the room. It was still painted in the generous green he had chosen over seven years ago when they had first moved into the apartment, just shortly after finding out about Ziva's pregnancy. Ziva had wanted yellow and he had wanted blue - eventually they had agreed upon green, Tony promising their second child's room would be yellow then. Ziva had scoffed at the mere thought of a second child, but they did in fact have another one and they did in fact paint Tali's room in a soft pastel yellow.

Tony was just about to examine the books and games on the shelf across the room when David's soft voice jerked him back to reality, "Auntie Abby leave?"

"Yeah", Tony answered absentmindedly, trying to catch David's eyes but the little boy was still looking intently at his toys, "She still has work to do."

Not knowing that Tony had basically just white-lied to him and sincerely not caring, David nodded without looking up. Tony turned around slightly to look at his daughter on the bed. She was clutching Shim tightly to her. Her deep slumber, the soft snores emanating from her sleeping form rendered her so peaceful and unharmed - much different from how she had looked all day. While the remnants of salty tears were still covering her blotchy face he had never seen her look more angelic and perfect than right at that moment. He couldn't help but smile before he turned back to face his son.

"You kinda hated me today, didn't you?", Tony tried to sound casual.

This earned him a confused frown on his son's face. David finally looked up to meet his father's widened eyes. "I don't hate you", the six-year-old assured firmly, "Uncle Gibbs said you can only hate really bad people."

"I'm not that bad yet, huh?", Tony continued, looking on expectantly. David shook his head. "But I did pretty bad today, eh?"

The little boy ultimately discarded his toys and settled into a more comfortable, cross-legged position on the floor. He seemed quite bewildered by his father's odd questions at first, but thinking about it, they didn't seem all that silly anymore. "Tali said to leave her alone", David stated matter-of-factly, carrying them both back to what had happened first at Abby's and McGee's place and then down in the living room.

"You realize I don't understand a word Hebrew, right?", Tony pressed on, his face completely void of apparent emotion.

"Azov oti", the little boy repeated forcefully, "It's 'leave me alone'. Told you."

"I know. I didn't listen", Tony said, his face contorting to an apologetic DiNozzo-grimace of deep wrinkles on the forehead, narrowed eyes and lips pressed together in a half-smile. David nodded. Silence fell over the room for a moment that was only broken by Tali's soft snores. "Azuv o- what now?", Tony said suddenly.

"Azov…oti", David answered slowly, a smile flickering across his face.

"Azooooov…"

"Oti", the little boy reiterated, the smile now settling firmly on his face.

"Azov. Oti. Leave me alone. Azov oti. I'll remember that for future use", Tony repeated, smiling proudly, "See, I can't do this by myself."

"What?", David asked, slightly confused.

"You and your sister. Your sister and you", Tony answered evenly, shrugging his shoulders, "I mean, come on, I can't even understand what Tali's saying. I'd need someone to translate, tell me what she's saying. And then I'd need someone to tell me what you're allowed to do with your mom and what not. And…and then… I'd need someone to tell me what you usually do when you usually do what you usually do. Know what I mean?"

David started nodding his head when suddenly an idea struck him so obviously that Tony couldn't help but smirk at the light bulb that was switched on behind his son's green eyes. "I can do that!", the little boy announced decidedly.

"Nah, you can't", Tony shook his head, waving the six-year-old off in mock-disbelief, huffing exaggeratedly.

"Can too."

"Cannot."

"Can too."

"Can- Really? Ya think?", Tony quickly switched from mock-disbelief to expectantly widened eyes.

"Yes", David nodded his head excitedly, "I know Hebrew. I understand Tali. And I know what we do all the time 'cause I'm here and I know what mommy doesn't like we do s'well."

"So, you could be kinda like my little helper, huh?", Tony started nodding along to his son, "The Robin to my Batman, the Spock to my Captain Kirk, the Bucky to my Captain America, the Chewbacca to my Han Solo, the Patrick Star to my SpongeBob Squarepants…the cockroach to my WALL-E." Tony stopped his reference reverie upon his son's befuddled and very Ziva-like look of very furrowed brows. "You my Bert now?", Tony asked hopefully, holding his hand up for David.

The little boy eyed his father's hand suspiciously for a moment as Tony's words continued on their slow sinking in. He glanced over at his sleeping little sister. He had never seen her as upset as that afternoon. He wanted to stay mad at his dad, but he knew that his mom would want him to help. After all, his dad had said he wanted him to be his little helper, just like he was his mom's little helper all the time. "'kay, Ernie", the little boy exclaimed dutifully and high-fived his grinning father.

"Now that that's settled…", Tony started, cringing inwardly at the choice of words that had haunted him all day now, "I'm kinda hungry. How 'bout you, bud?"

David looked down at his belly as if asking for its opinion. "Me too."

Tony slightly turned around once more, looking at Tali. "Does she do that often?", he inquired plainly, pointing at Tali with his face turned back towards his son.

"Ah-huh", David nodded again, "She always takes a nap 'cause she's littler."

"Ah…figures." Tony raised his eyebrows. "And how come she's sleeping in here?"

"Donno", the six-year-old shrugged his shoulders, "She was here when I came up, so I let her stay."

"And… Do we wake her?", Tony whispered hesitantly, leaning closer to David.

"Nope. Tali's really cranky when you wake her up. She'll wake up by herself."

"Okay", Tony exhaled and got up from the floor, crossing over to the door. He held it open and turned to look at his son expectantly. "What do you say it's spaghetti DiNozzo style for dinner?"

David, now standing directly in front of Tony between his father and the door, looked up at him with a grin, "I like."

"You do?", Tony said, taken aback by the quick success of his suggestion.

"It's my favorite. Tali's too", David informed eagerly, a trace of doubt veiling his features though, "You can do s'ghetti?"

"Are you kidding, fine Sir? Incidentally, spaghetti is my second name!", Tony boasted, adopting a much deeper voice than his own while leading his son down the hall. He had left the door slightly ajar, just in case.

"Mommy's s'ghetti are the best s'ghetti in the world", the little boy asserted definitely.

"I'm calling for recount!", Tony cried out, mock-appalled, "How 'bout I'll introduce you to daddy's spaghetti first and then you can decide if your mom's spaghetti really are the best spaghetti around?"

David grinned and held out his hand, "Deal." Tony took his son's hand and shook it, nodding his head.

They entered the kitchen side by side and Tony couldn't help but sigh a small, inward sigh of relief that his day was ending better than it had begun. He could have made for much less drama and a tad more normalcy in his life right now, but normal was a term he had hardly ever associated with his life anyway - let alone ever since Ziva had entered it center-stage. Ziva… He would have given everything to have her stand at the counter next to him right now, preparing pasta together.

Before Tony could have descended deeper into wretched ravings, however, David's voice perked up from where he had already placed his stool customarily next to Tony and himself on top of it. "Your second name's really s'ghetti?" Tony grinned.


When Tali had eventually come downstairs, Tony and David had already been setting the table, finished with cooking. The little girl, Shim clasped under her arm, had spent minutes simply watching her father and her big brother skidding around the kitchen, calling out to each other and smiling the odd smile. Tony had noticed her the moment she had stepped into the living room but had decided to leave her alone for the time being and let her move at her own speed and desire. With that new tactic the little girl had ultimately joined them at the kitchen table, mostly talking to David - or through David to Tony, that is - and had otherwise kept rather quiet. They had both, however, ruled a definite tie in the spaghetti-liking-contest. Deeming it the safest entertainment of choice, they had settled down for a movie which David had let Tali choose soon afterwards. Even bedtime had gone over without much fuss and even though Tali had refused a goodnight kiss from her father, the soft 'Layla tov' Tony had heard upon closing the door behind him gave him enough hope for the days to come.

Night had long settled over the apartment when suddenly a piercing scream ripped through it. Tony's eyes shot open immediately. It took him a few seconds to realize once more that he wasn't in his bed in Spain. He was home. Another scream, this time even louder than before, finally had him jump to his feet and dash across the corridor in only his sweat pants and shirt. He pushed the door to Tali's room open and rushed over to her bed where she was entangled in the covers, thrashing around and crying with her eyes tightly shut.

He kneeled down in front of her bed and placed his hands on both of her shoulders, trying to calm her. "Tali, wake up. It's daddy. It's just a dream", he cautioned, trying to sound calm while adrenalin wreaked havoc in the pit of his stomach.

The little girl's eyes darted open at once and landed on her father's scruff outlines against the faint shimmering light that was trickling into the room from outside her bedroom door. She started trembling and backed herself up against the wall, away from him, terrified whimpers coming from her mouth. Even though he felt hurt by his daughter's rejection, he knew he couldn't dwell on his own feelings right now. His daughter was scared out of her mind and he was supposed to be there and make it all better. With that thought in mind he straightened back up and slowly positioned himself on the edge of her bed, causing Tali to pull her legs tightly up against her body, trying to shrink away from him as far as possible.

"Look at me, Tali, it's daddy. It was just a dream", he tried soothingly, slowly leaning forward so that she would get a better look at his face, "It's daddy. Everything will be okay." He looked at her apprehensively. She scanned him up and down and finally rested on his emerald eyes. He tried to smile at her reassuringly and heard himself sigh with relief when she actually relaxed.

"Did you have a bad dream, huh?", Tony asked softly, reaching out to brush a sweaty strand of hair from her face. She slightly twitched from his touch at first but an earnest smile settled firmly on Tony's face when she didn't fully pull away and allowed him to put that loose curl behind her ear.

She nodded almost undetectably, sniffling. He wasn't sure what to do next, though. He wasn't sure if his presence alone was enough to calm her down. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to ask what the nightmare was about, if he was supposed to gather her up in his arms - he wasn't sure if she would even let him. Instead he kept staring at her, trying to put every tinge of reassurance and serenity into his gaze. And she was staring back at him, her sniffles quieting down to the odd hiccup. Suddenly he realized that his hand was still resting on her upper arm, unconsciously drawing circles in an attempt to soothe her. He noticed she wasn't flinching, wasn't even trying to back away from him. This was probably the closest he had come to his daughter in those last few hours of being the single on-hand parent.

It gave him enough confidence to whisper a feeble suggestion, "Wanna come here?"

He moved his free hand awkwardly to the side while reluctant to remove his other hand from her arm, trying to mirror what he had seen Ziva do the day before. It had been enough for Ziva to open her arms and Tali had gladly walked into her embrace. He feared it wouldn't be enough for him, though. After all, he hadn't really held his daughter since she had been a little baby. Their relationship had since been deteriorating up to the point where she would shy away from his every move towards her, first in search for her mother's more familiar touch and now…

She stared at him warily at first, trying to decipher the odd look of nervousness in his eyes. But then, with sudden determination, she slowly crawled into his lap and put her head against his chest. He was instantly hit by the warmth radiating off of her small body. Again unsure of what to do next and which one of his possible alternatives would meet her approval, he eventually opted for loosely draping his arms around her. He could feel her breathe heavily against his shirt. They sat in silence for some time. He wasn't sure what to say anyway, but it seemed to work nonetheless. She grew heavier in his arms, telling him she was slowly settling down.

Just when he felt confident enough to make the suggestion of relocating to his and Ziva's bedroom, her little voice mumbled faintly, "Da- Daddy?"

His heart skipped a beat. He felt like he had been waiting forever to hear his daughter say that. Granted, he had been in Tali's life for long enough to have her third word be 'dada', but altogether she was rarely addressing him. She was barely three years old, what did they expect? She didn't understand and why should she?

"Yes, princess?", he croaked, trying to fight down the lump in his throat.

"Me m- miss mommy", she whimpered.

"I know, princess", Tony offered sincerely, "Me too." He slightly tilted his head so that their eyes could meet, both having the same sympathetic smile tug at their lips. Those had probably been the first words she had spoken to him in clear English.

Talking in other languages was their children's special method of shutting him out and Tali was teaching him a lesson in terms of broken und badly mended trust whenever she reverted to Hebrew around him, the language only Ziva and the kids could understand. Naturally, he had picked up on basic words and phrases over the years but it was far from enough. After all, despite being only three years old, Tali did do it on purpose and her purpose was ignoring his presence and his fatherly advances completely and vocally. Ziva had been putting extra effort into limiting the Hebrew spoken around the house whenever he had been around, but he had always felt a bit excluded. It was a pretty immature attitude, he knew that alright, but still. The knowing glisten that could only settle in Ziva's eyes because she had understood. It didn't matter then that she would translate immediately. They had wanted her to understand, first and exclusively. It had always triggered a pang of isolation in Tony he had never been able to control. But then again, it was their prerogative, wasn't it? He had been lazy with the very fact of being a father. He had seldom acted as one, not since accepting the assignment in Spain. Not until now.

He got Spanish, though. He knew that Ziva would read stories in Spanish to them as well. And much like the pang of isolation, he had felt a pang of pride and inclusion when Ziva had told him that David had been showing a real interest in the Spanish language and in where his dad was and what he was doing. It occurred to Tony that he could take up reading those stories to them, showing them that he was indeed speaking a language they could understand - a language all of them could understand. Then again, however, holding Tali in his arms as she slowly drifted back to sleep, he thought that maybe, what he was doing right now might as well be the only kind of language his children needed right now. And even though it was a language he had neglected for quite some time, a language he was hardly very adept at, he was willing to learn. Yes, holding Tali in his arms and watching her peaceful little face succumb to dreams that were much happier, he knew he had to learn and that it was the only thing that mattered.


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