Chapter Thirteen: Question and answer

"I don't know how. I don't know how to tell you."

"It was supposed to be my aliyah. He told me I had to prove myself, and I thought he was right…"

Tony listened in silence the strangled emotions in his chest suffocating him as she talked into his shoulder.

He could tell she was skirting around the worst of it, even as the memories came crashing back to her. He tried to hide the shaking; he didn't want her to know how angry he really was. He didn't want to scare her into silence.

Finally Ziva fell into silence. She had left out so much but she couldn't bring herself to tell him the details. His grip on her shoulders had stiffened as she spoke and now he felt frozen beside her. Part of her was afraid to look at him to see his reaction, but she needed to see his eyes.

Tony felt her raise her head slightly and glanced down to look at her. She smiled carefully tears glittering her beautiful deep brown eyes.

How could he tell her, that Saleem had died too quickly? He couldn't. It wouldn't help her, so instead he simply kissed her forehead lightly.

Ziva sighed into his shoulder. She could tell he was trying hard to control himself. Trying not to react to what she had just told him. In a way she was glad, there was no way that she could deal with it.

"What are you leaving out Ziva?" Tony asked softly into her hair.

Ziva stilled in his arms as her nightmare came back with horrific clarity. Her stomach twisted and she pulled herself from the warmth and safety of Tony's arms. This was what she had been dreading. The part of Somalia she could not confront with someone's hands on her, even if they were Tony's gentle ones.

Ziva turned her back on him and starred at the painting on the wall.

Tony wanted to step forward and capture her with his arms again, having not wanted to let her go in the first place but he knew better. He knew what she was going to say before she spoke. He had been a cop to long not to recognize what the slumped shoulders and arms tight across her chest meant; suddenly he was glad she wasn't looking at him because there was no way for him to hide the emotions that passed on his face as she spoke softly.

"They were soldiers, all of them. No women were allowed inside the impound, it was distracting. So when they brought me, his men wanted…wanted me." Ziva's voice shook as she spoke but she couldn't control it. "But he wouldn't let them. He wanted me to himself."

Ziva's shoulders began to tremble as she began to cry softly. "I couldn't…I didn't…"

"Ziva," Tony's voice was steady but rougher than he wanted. "This is not your fault. You couldn't have done…"

"I stopped fighting!" She snapped turning to him, her face burned with shame but her anger was greater than her shame. Somewhere in her mind she knew it wasn't Tony she was angry with but she couldn't stop. "I stopped fighting him. I just … I just prayed he would kill me and it would be over but I didn't fight him Tony I didn't stop him."

She glared at him breathing heavily for several seconds before what she had just done caught up with her.

Tony saw the shadow fall in her eyes as she turned to leave. He knew better than to touch her but he'd be damned if he was going to let her leave.

He reached the door just as she did and he held a hand on the cool wood to keep her from opening it.

"Tony," her voice was a soft warning growl but he didn't budge.

"Tony," she growled again.

Still Tony made no move to let her pass. He stood silently only inches from her silently. He wanted her to look at him, she knew it, and he knew she knew it, but he wouldn't tell her to.

"Tony please," her voice was softer this time almost pleading, but instead of letting her go he spoke softly.

"Look at me."

Ziva's head hung in shame as she turned slowly to look at him.

His eyes burned and she flinched involuntarily.

He starred down at her silently. Tony knew what he wanted to tell her but didn't know how to say it.

Slowly he raised his hand to touch her face, when she didn't stop him; he ran a finger down her cheek lightly.

"You did nothing wrong, nothing."

Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she said, "I am a soldier."

"You're more than a soldier," Tony said trying to keep his voice even. Damn Eli David and his conditioning. "Let me help you Ziva, please."

He was startled when she fell into his arms crying, not because it was a strange response, but because he had never been so glad to see someone fall apart as he was now.

Ziva clutched at his shirt holding him close to her, she needed him. Neither of them really understood it, but Ziva knew that he was the only one that could chase the memories away, and Tony wouldn't want anyone else to try.

Abby and McGee fell silent as Gibbs appeared in her lab. The two looked at each other guiltily as he approached. Gibbs paused looking from one to the other before smiling slightly.

"Tell me," he said simply.

They looked at each other then back at Gibbs, before nodding and turning back to the computer.

Vance told her to stay away, almost pleaded with her. She was going to make it harder, make it worse for all of them, and he was right, what she was doing would do exactly that. Eli would say it was because she was sadistic, Vance that she wanted to prove him wrong, Ziva would say she was doing to spite them all, and she would tell them it was because she couldn't resist, but the truth was much more complicated than that.

Eli starred at the woman before him and tried to push aside almost twenty years of love, lust, and anger.

She wore a brilliant blood red dress that clung to her small frame. Her dark brown hair fell down in waves across her shoulders, but he refused to stare. He wouldn't notice how her dark eyes danced in the fire's light as she watched him; or how she bit her lip nervously as she glanced at the men beside him.

Following her gaze he waved his men away. Amira had come to him alone, the least he could do was save face, and face her alone.

None of the Mossad agents dared to dispute Eli's order, beside's none of them wanted to be in the building for this, let alone in the same room.

"Take a seat," Eli said offering Amira a chair.

"Eli," she whispered through a smile, her voice rolled his name lightly and he tried to ignore the brush of her fingers as she took a seat.

"Now tell me why you are here?" Eli said coolly as he sat across from her.

"We both know why," Amira said gently.

"Perhaps I want to hear you say it." Eli nodded slightly in her direction.

Amira tried to hide the small smile, Eli was the only man that could make her smile no matter how hard she tried not to, and that was part of the reason they so rarely were in the same wrong. Perhaps they were both afraid they would forgive and try to forget again. Yet now they had little choice.

"Ziva."

It was all the answer he needed. "You have no business with her."

"I have as much right as you."

"She doesn't want you here," he growled.

Amira smirked, "or yourself yet here we are."

He watched her in silence and Amira felt as if she were under a microscope. She watched as his eyes softened slightly, and stood quickly.

"I am going to find her Eli." She said it with her back to him as she headed for the door.

"I can't let you do that."

"Then you will have to stop me Eli," Amira said pausing at the door but she didn't dare turn to look back at him.

"She is my daughter," Eli said softly.

"Just as she is mine, and I will find her Eli, I have to."

A/N: ^_^ I know that some of you saw that coming but for everyone else surprise. No one has ever mentioned Ziva's mother (please correct me if I'm wrong), and I couldn't resist. Just to be clear, Amira = Ziva's mum.

Oh and the other version of chapter eleven has been posted separately. It's called Nightmares and Dreamscapes if anyone is interested in reading it.