A/N: Hey everyone. Here's today's chapter, and the new plot really takes off here.

For this story I had a lot of different songs in mind for both the name and the inspiration. I chose "Falling Apart" by Matt Nathanson, but "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot was a close second. That song really expresses what Tony's going through. You should check it out on YouTube or something—it's totally worth it.

Another note: Now I know we haven't mentioned Ziva's current status or lack thereof for a while. While I can't say she's alive or dead for sure (That would be boring), I can say this: that loose end isn't tied up yet. Alright? Fabulous.

Enjoy!


He hadn't planned on going for a run that day, but remembering that somehow it'd get Dr. Barlow to get his psych evals passed, he was willing. It was dreadful for the first ten minutes, his limbs weak and sore from not having been used much lately. But soon he fell into a steady, comfortable rhythm. It had warmed up a bit and the sky had cleared for a little while.

He also knew that it'd be one thing he'd check off his list for Ziva.

He slowed to a walk as he neared a park. Several kids were playing basketball. Tony instinctively made his way over to the group.

"Mind if I play?" He asked one of the boys. He had blond hair grown over to his ears.

The boy looked him over skeptically and glanced at some of the others. "Alright. I'm Jared,"

"Tony,"

And so they played. They played for two hours until they became too tired to play any longer.

"You guys are pretty good," Tony commented as they finally sat down on the grass to rest.

"Thanks," Jared said. "You're not bad yourself,"

"I played in college. Went to the Final Four with UCLA,"

"Wow," He said, somewhat impressed

"You on a team?"

"We all are. Our coach is moving though,"

"That sucks,"

"Yeah… We come out here every afternoon in the summer 'till our moms bug us about coming home for dinner,"

"I remember those days. I lived on the court," Tony said, his eyes becoming distant as he remembered his alcoholic father and mentally unstable mother. The court had become more home to home than his house. During the summer hours he'd stay out there from morning 'till he couldn't see any more. "Mind if I join you guys sometime?"

Jared shrugged. "Sure," he said nonchalantly.

Tony lay back on the grass, his hands behind his head. The soft breeze was growing cooler. The sky was covered in clouds, excepting a small open area through which the sweet golden sun shone through, lighting up the world like a painting. Ziva would have loved this. The ache in his heart pound in tune with the songs of the birds. I'm here with you.


"Tony!" A cherry voice cried before he got the chance to greet her. Abby. Tony smiled. "How are you? Feeling better?"

"I got nine hours of sleep last night, so I'm feeling just fine," That was all he felt, besides guilty.

"What'd you do last night?"

"Went for a jog. Played some basketball with some kids at the park," He laughed. "They kicked my butt,"

"Probably since it's been so long that you worked it out,"

"Hey! I am in the prime of my youth,"

"You're thirty seven, Tony. No one is in the prime of their youth,"

"Hm," He huffed playfully.

"You have lunch plans?" It was eleven in the morning, only an hour until her lunch break.

"Nah,"

"Want to grab some Chinese with me?"

"Sure," Tony said.

"Meet me at our usual place in an hour?"

"I'll be there," He said.


An hour later they were sitting at their favorite Chinese place. His chow mein and honey mustard chicken had hit the spot, along with the multiple sides they had ordered to share.

"It's not technically authentic, but you gotta love it," Abby commented as she took another bite, picking up the chicken skillfully with her chop-sticks. "So tell me about the basketball game,"

"Which one?"

"The one you played last night, at the park,"

"Oh, that one. It was fun. They play there all the time. Reminds me of when I was a kid,"

"When I was a kid, I… Never mind," Abby grinned.

Tony laughed and moved on. "They're all on a team together, but their coach is moving soon, so," He shrugged, not finishing the sentence.

"You should coach them," Abby said as she took another bite.

"Ha, me?"

"Yeah, you. You'd be great at it. And don't tell me you don't have the time. When do they meet?"

"Saturday nights,"

"Well there you go," She said, gesturing with her chopsticks.

"Abby, I don't know--"

"Tony, come on. What else are you going to do? Knit?"

"My Great Aunt Willafred was an excellent knitter," He said, his eyes dancing.

"Oh please. You know you want to," She said, absolutely positive.

"I haven't played in years,"

"Neither has John Wooden," Abby reminded him of the great UCLA coach.

He sighed. "I don't know…"

"You have to do something with your life," Abby pointed out. She put an encouraging hand on his arm which rested on the table. "If Ziva was here she'd be all over it,"

Do it for me. "She would, wouldn't she?"

"You should do it, Tony,"

"Dr. Barlow did say I needed exercise and to be involved in some other stuff besides work,"

"Two birds, one stone," She said cheerfully. "So you'll do it?"

Do it for me. "I guess,"

"Good," She replied contentedly.

I'm here with you.