Chapter 9

A few hours later, Abby was sitting with Tim, fingers encircling his wrist just above the bandages. She dozed lightly while Tim stared. The door to the room opened suddenly, and Abby sat up to face the intruder.

"Oh, hello, Abby. I-I didn't realize you were still here."

"Ziva. What are you doing here?"

Ziva looked a bit uncomfortable, but shrugged and said, "Visiting. Do you wish to take a break? I'll sit with him for awhile."

Abby nearly refused, but when she met Ziva's eyes, she saw a hint of pleading there. "Okay, I could use a night in my own bed. Just give me a call if you don't want to stay."

"I will." As Abby gathered her things, Ziva stood stiffly by Tim's bed, clearly waiting for her to leave. Abby paused by the door and saw Ziva watching Tim with almost a guilty expression.

"See ya later, Ziva."

"Good night, Abby." After Abby left, Ziva slid into the chair only recently vacated and tried to analyze why she was there. "Do you even see me, McGee?" she said quietly.

Tim stared and didn't reply.

"I-I have gone over what happened at the house many times, McGee. I cannot understand it. I am kind of a fish out of water right now. At least, I'm fairly certain I got that one right. The last person I sat next to like this died. In Mossad, we..." she trailed off, unsure of what to say. That had been a reflex, her training a sure defense against the unknown facing her.

But there was no response. After a few silent minutes, Ziva stood and restlessly began pacing around the room, stopping occasionally to see if there was any change. There never was. Only sheer stubbornness kept her from calling Abby to take over again. She would not give in to that weakness. She would not hide.

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She paced back and forth, her eyes flashing with unexpressed emotion. Tim watched her and he had heard her speak. He was ambivalent about her presence. He knew he was in no danger as long as Ziva was around, but he also knew why she was here, even if she didn't know herself. It took so much effort to break out of his mental cage without falling prey to the memories that threatened to overwhelm his sanity.

"McGee... Tim..."

She had said his name. People rarely did at NCIS. Gibbs and Tony did when the going got rough; Abby did more often, but Ziva had never used his given name... at least not to speak to him.

"I'm so sorry." The same dark eyes that he had seen before stared at him, sparkling with tears she could not shed, not even now.

As he had for Abby, as he had for Gibbs, Tim fought against the darkness and briefly broke free. "I'm alive," he said hoarsely.

Ziva paused midstride and stared at the eyes which were no longer empty. They swirled with a torrent of emotion surpassing even her own, but life was there.

She sat down beside him, his eyes following her every move. He made no effort to actually move himself, but she noticed that he never took his eyes off her.

"Why are you staring at me, McGee?" The more impersonal form of address was back now that she knew he was aware.

For awhile, he didn't say anything. Then, as if mirroring what she felt, his eyes welled up with tears which spilled down his cheeks. "So I don't forget..."

"Forget what?"

"That I'm alive."

Ziva winced inwardly at the reminder of his near miss. She searched her memory for what one said at a time like this. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes."

"What's that?"

Tim's face still showed little emotion, but the tears continued to fall. "Touch me."

"What?"

"So I know..."

"Know what?"

"So I know that you're there, that I'm not alone."

Ziva hesitated. These gestures were still foreign to her. By her own choice. But she had become attached to her team in spite of her own best intentions. She didn't want to, but as she looked at her teammate, she saw the desperation in his eyes. Tim would never ask this of her in normal circumstances. He was too intimidated by her. He needed this. Maybe she did as well.

"Please."

Slowly, timidly, Ziva reached out and touched Tim's arm. Immediately, she felt the tension in his body lessen. It hit her hard. Such a simple gesture had such deep effects. With tears threatening to fall from her own eyes, she brushed Tim's away with her other hand.

"What now, McGee?"

Again, a pause, during which she could see the turmoil going on in his mind. Then, he answered, "Just don't leave me alone."

Ziva nodded. "I can do that." She kept her hand on his arm and settled back in the chair.

For the next few hours, they sat in companionable silence. Neither attempted to make conversation, but all the while, both of them had thoughts racing through their minds. Finally, Ziva looked over at Tim. His eyes were still open, still aware.

She decided to risk a question even if it drove him away again. "Why do you hide, McGee?"

Tim blinked and looked at her. He looked down at her hand which had never left his arm. "I'm weak," he whispered.

"No, McGee. You are not weak."

The tears welled up again. She had never seen him cry, but now it was as if all his restraint was gone.

He shook his head slightly. "I am. I... can't... I can't... think about it. I can't... bear it. The darkness." Tremors shook his body. "I was alone. It was so... so empty. All I could do was...scream... try to break out... always failing. No one... nothing to hold onto." She saw his eyes glaze over.

"McGee... Tim. You-you can hold onto me," her own words surprised her. Ziva was equally surprised to find that she meant them. Before she could change her mind, she pulled Tim to her and hugged him tightly. "You are not alone anymore, Tim. You are not in the dark."

Tim's sobs became audible for the first time. He held to her as tightly as he could and didn't let go. His hoarse voice only lent an added sense of anguish to his cries.

"Why me? Why me?" he cried, his voice muffled as he buried his face in her shoulder.

"I do not know, McGee," Ziva said. She was frightened by this display and wanted nothing more than to break away and leave the room. However, that would be a sign of weakness and a blow to Tim. She couldn't do that. "We will find him and ask him." Her voice left no doubt as to how she would go about getting that information.

Finally, to Ziva's relief and very slight disappointment, Tim let her go. She gently eased him back down onto the bed and replaced her hand on his arm.

"Thank you, Ziva."

"For what, McGee?"

"For being here." A small smile, so brief that she might have imagined it, passed over his face. "For not leaving."

She smiled in return. "You are welcome."

Tim sighed and his eyes closed. In seconds, he seemed to be asleep. She didn't know what his mind would be like when he woke, but she was satisfied that he was still inside, that her moment of incompetence had not killed one of her teammates. With her hand still lightly touching his arm, Ziva leaned against Tim's bed and fell asleep as well.