Ziva goes into labor and Tony supports her. Meanwhile, Mossad and NCIS begin to work together.
Content Warning: The birth does get to be graphic at one point. Please read with caution. I wanted this to be as authentic as possible.
The sun was already high in the sky by the time Ziva finally woke up, surprised to see that Tony had already awakened and was not inside. She lay still for a while, not wanting to leave the comfort of their bed, the discomforts of late pregnancy having taken their toll on her body.
Her back was bothering her, she noted, but it was probably nothing. Aches and pains were something she was becoming all-too accustomed to as this pregnancy continued. She and Tony were assuming at this point that the baby would arrive any day now, and she grew more nervous as that time approached. She stretched her legs a second before sliding one off the edge of the bed, and then the other before laboring to sit up.
The dull ache in her back intensified, for just a moment. She reached around to the small of her back, rubbing a few times to work out the kinks. "I really must have slept sideways," she muttered under her breath as the pain subsided, returning to the dull ache that she'd felt since she woke.
She resigned herself to the thought that she may just have to deal with an aching back for the day.
Slowly, Ziva walked – more like waddled, she thought to herself – as she made her way to the door of their house, stepping outside to see Tony standing at the stream with one of their makeshift fishing poles. She smiled as she took him in, admiring the way his muscles flexed with each pull of the rod.
Another sharp pain hit her back, and she sucked in a sharp breath, leaning against the support of the doorway. Tony hadn't heard her over the sound of the running water, and it was just as well – she was fine, and he need not worry.
Almost as quickly as it came, the pain went away again, and she resumed her morning walk to greet her husband. She smiled inwardly at the thought. If marriage was a relationship built on mutual love and trust, then Tony had been her husband for years now.
Ziva reached Tony in just a few moments, snuggling up behind him and reaching her arms around his waist, as much as she could with her pregnant belly in the way. Tony jumped slightly, not having heard her, but relaxed into the embrace when she kissed him lightly on the shoulder.
"Sneaking up on me," he admonished, turning to kiss her back.
"I do not know why you are not used to it at this point," was her retort, and he shrugged in response. She laughed, triggering another sharp pain in her lower back. This time, Tony was close enough to hear her hiss, and he turned away from the stream, setting his fishing pole down, his face lined with concern.
"Ziva?" he asked, eyeing her with worry. He noted a pained grimace on her face, her hand clinging to his arm for support as she leaned forward slightly, steeling herself through the pain.
After a moment, she straightened up again, letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, saying, "I am fine, Tony."
"You didn't look fine," was his response, and he couldn't help the anxiety that began to rise, the fear that something was wrong.
"It is fine. I have just been having these pains this morning, they keep coming and going, and–" she stopped short, realization dawning on her face. "I believe I may have started labor."
Tony's face went white for about a millisecond, then he drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. It would do neither of them any good to panic now. "Okay," he began, taking another deep breath and looking at her intently. "What can I do? What do you need?"
"I do not need anything right now, Tony, relax. It may be a while before anything happens."
"I've heard that some women labor like their mothers. Do you know how long–"
"No," she interrupted wistfully. "Children were not really an option to me, not while my mother was alive, so we never discussed it."
She said it so simply, as though it were the most natural thing, to have given up so fully on the sort of life that would lead her to motherhood that Tony sobered up immediately. Despite having known Ziva as long as he had, it was still difficult for him to hear these reminders that her life had not been her own for so long. He'd never known this kind of empathy for another, but for Ziva, his heart ached for all that she had given up on before she'd even known him. "Oh," was all he said in response.
"We may as well settle in, get comfortable. Or as comfortable as we can." Despite her insistence that she was fine, she had to admit that the pains were intense. She had no idea if they would get worse, or how long this entire process would last. If she were able to go to a hospital, they would likely be able to tell her at least something.
As it was, she'd had no prenatal care, and her knowledge of giving birth was not good. She assumed that her body would know what to do, as women centuries ago did not have the type of medical care that was common nowadays, but as for knowing things like whether her cervix was ready – she was pretty sure there was something about the cervix with childbirth – she would not have any sort of clue on. None of her friends had had any children, either. As much as she'd hoped for motherhood in recent years, she hadn't exactly been well-versed in its mechanics.
"If you're in labor, shouldn't your… I mean, don't you think your water should have broken?" Tony asked, and Ziva had to admit, she wasn't entirely sure.
"I do not know, Tony. Maybe it is not like they show on TV, where it all comes rushing out."
"You're probably right," he agreed, wishing now that he'd taken the time to learn more about labor and delivery at some point in his life. Of all the knowledge he had ever thought he'd need, childbirth was not on the list. He'd always assumed that if he got to the point where he was ready to be a father, he'd have doctors and books and the internet to rely on.
Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would become a father in the middle of the jungle without so much as another human being to rely on for help with the delivery. He was it, the sole person Ziva would have to rely on, and it was terrifying, but he had to be there for her. She would need him.
"Maybe you could have a bath. I tested the water this morning, it feels amazing. Perhaps that would help with the pain, at least somewhat," he suggested. He wasn't sure if getting in the water would be a smart idea right now, but he didn't really know anything. But it was only water, it couldn't hurt, could it? And the water was the perfect temperature, the kind of temperature that would make him want to relax there all day, if Ziva wasn't hours away from giving birth.
"Maybe," she agreed, and she leaned on him as she took her underwear off, trying not to lose her balance as another sharp pain hit her. Ziva had known pain in her life, in many different forms, but the pain of childbirth was something she'd not expected, nor was it something she had ever experienced. It was intense, starting from her lower back and moving to the whole of her stomach, and then causing her limbs to tingle with the intensity of it. She was a strong woman, but she could absolutely understand why so many women chose to take pain medication while giving birth.
She would never in her life call another woman weak for needing an epidural, that was for sure. It wasn't an option for her in this moment, but she might have been tempted, had she had that option. There was no use dwelling on that now, though, and she waited for another pain to subside before she slid into the water. "Join me," she ordered, and Tony wasted no time getting his own clothing off and getting in beside her, wanting to support her however he could.
"Uh, this probably isn't the time for that," he joked, and Ziva punched him in the chest, glaring.
"You are in here so that I do not lose my balance or otherwise end up in danger. This pain is very intense, Tony, I cannot begin to describe it and so I will not even try. But if I get to the point where I cannot stand by myself, I am going to need you to keep me afloat. I am trusting you," she said as another wave of pain hit her. Tony held her close, rubbing her arms and doing his best to soothe her through the pain, but she merely gritted her teeth and bore it as best as she could.
There was no telling how long they stayed in the water, the pains coming and going rather irregularly, Tony holding her through them and Ziva doing her best to remember to breathe, despite the way she wanted to tense up through them. She did not know how much longer this could last, or how many more of these cycles she would be able to sit through. She'd begun to cry, and if anyone else had been with her she would have been ashamed, but with Tony she just let the tears fall, speaking through raspy breaths. "It hurts," she gasped, tears falling down her cheeks.
Tony didn't know what to do other than keep saying she was doing fine and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "How will you know if you're ready?" He asked at one point, and Ziva shook her head to signify that she didn't know. She had no idea how she would know if it was time to push. That's what doctors were there for. She could only hope that her body would know.
Despite the water feeling great, Ziva had noted that it hadn't done much to really improve on the pain situation. It was not cold enough to be numbing, nor was it hot enough to be dulling. "Help me out," she instructed, and Tony waited through another contraction, noting that they were getting longer, with shorter breaks, before he got out, and then helped Ziva slide out. She was capable of walking, but he didn't want to let her go, just in case her knees decided that they couldn't support her in the face of the continuous pain.
He wished more than anything that he could take at least some of it away from her. Watching her face contorting with each painful contraction absolutely killed him. He knew that in the end, her effort would be worth it and they would have a child – a child – but he still couldn't stand to see her go through all of this. His support was great, surely, but it was just that. He wasn't doing anything but standing by and following whatever orders she could give him.
"Get the tarp from the shelf, the brown one," she instructed, and he wasted no time in obeying. When he came back with it in his hands, she smiled gratefully at him before grimacing in pain again. "Spread it down on the ground," she croaked out, doubling over and hissing for breath. It couldn't possibly be long now. There was no possible way that this could get any worse, and it felt to her like the contractions were coming almost back to back as it was.
Once Tony had set the tarp on the ground, she sat on it, leaning so that her back was at a forty-five-degree angle from the ground. "Get me one of those pillows," she ordered, and Tony rushed into the house, bringing two of them out and helping her place them behind her head. She lay back, wincing as she did so, and turned to her side, hoping that the change in position would help her relax some.
Tony crouched down, taking her hand, and she held onto it tightly. "Are you okay?" he asked. He felt like it was a stupid question, but he didn't know what else to ask, or what else he could do for her. She nodded slightly, her eyes closing against the pain, and he reached to push her hair, now wet with sweat and clinging to her face, off of her cheek.
"How much longer?" she asked, her tears coming anew, and Tony didn't have the answer, he just held her hand and stayed by her side.
McGee sat with Pruitt in the government-issued Impala, waiting for the arrival of the Israelis they'd been charged with picking up from the airport. Pruitt, for his part, sat silently, unsure what to make of the fact that Mossad had contacted them, but McGee hadn't had the patience to explain that one of his predecessors had formerly belonged to the foreign agency and that sometimes, they worked together.
Pruitt was a bit too buttoned-up for his liking, and McGee wondered whether the man was just naturally a private person who didn't share a lot or if he was hiding something. He'd personally had enough of people keeping secrets, but everyone was entitled to have at least a few, and maybe he'd open up eventually.
Mossad had contacted them yesterday, saying that they were on the way to the States and that they'd need someone from Gibbs' team to come pick them up. McGee had volunteered, seeing as he was the only one outside of Gibbs who had even met the Israelis, but Gibbs had insisted that Pruitt go with him.
For what, McGee had wondered, the stimulating conversation?
He received the text message he'd been waiting for and pulled out of the cell phone lot, driving toward the arrival lane of the airport to pick up their guests. Mossad had been their usual cryptic selves as to the nature of their visit, but there were few reasons for the foreign agency to contact NCIS now that their main connections had been severed. First Eli David's passing, and then Ziva's disappearance.
He wondered, not for the first time, if this visit had something to do with Ziva's disappearance. It wasn't like Mossad didn't know about it, of course. They kept their fingers in a lot of pots, and the fact that Ziva had once been one of theirs meant that she was probably a regular subject of their surveillance and care.
It was almost comforting, if not a little unnerving.
He pulled up to where Orli and Malachi stood waiting, each of them with one small bag apiece, and he parked the car, exchanging pleasantries. Pruitt, for his part, hung back, though he had been gracious enough to shake the hands of the foreign visitors.
Orli opened the passenger door and sat up front, and Pruitt did not argue with her, to his great credit.
The drive was uneventful, and McGee asked Malachi how he'd been since the last time they'd seen each other, which had been under less-than-desirable circumstances. Not like there were ever good circumstances when these two agencies met. It turned out Malachi had gotten married, and McGee congratulated him, but the conversation stalled after that, since McGee didn't feel comfortable talking about Delilah with someone he really didn't know that well.
When they arrived at NCIS headquarters and stepped up to the bullpen, Orli wasted no time in briefing Director Vance, Gibbs, McGee, and the rest of the team on the reason for her visit. She'd called the Director only briefly, to tell him that she would be traveling to the States immediately and to expect her arrival. "Gentlemen, I must be clear. I am here on less than favorable terms. I was cornered at Mossad headquarters by an organization called Widow."
McGee's eyes widened at her words, and Orli noted his reaction. "Ahh, so you are familiar with them. They have reached out to you, as well?"
"More than once," Gibbs confirmed, wondering where this was going.
"They were not terribly pleasant, I must say," Orli continued dryly. "They threatened me and some of my officers, saying that they would harm us if we did not tell them the whereabouts of one Ziva David."
"Three men, all of whom I've already run facial recognition on," Malachi cut in, placing three photos on a table in front of them. "Nothing came up. I do not recognize them, and neither does anyone else at Mossad. They are young – amateurs, so it is likely that none of them are ranking officials within the organization, and I suspect that all of them will turn up dead by the end of the month. It is unlikely that following them as leads will get us anywhere, but it might be smart to try and locate them while you can."
McGee's eyes remained wide open at the realization. He should have known that the visit would have something to do with Ziva, but he never imagined that Widow would be so bold as to reach out to Mossad. "But you don't know where-"
She interrupted him. "They assume that I do, or that I would have – oh, what was the word – some 'insight' as to her whereabouts, seeing as Mossad trained her."
Gibbs chuckled. "They don't know much about Mossad, huh?" McGee looked at him quizzically, and both Orli and Malachi cracked slight smiles at the interjection. He noted that Thompson and Pruitt also seemed to be confused by this conversation.
"Mossad trains its officers to disappear, yes, but does not train us in any specifics," Malachi explained. "Sure, they cover the basics – use paper currency and not electronic means, don't take anything that can be tracked to yourself, slip out in plain sight – things like that. But there are no explicit procedures for going off-grid. Everyone at Mossad knows that."
McGee was still confused. "I thought Widow once included Bodnar, though. Wouldn't they know that?"
"Widow would not trust Bodnar to be truthful, particularly if they thought Bodnar might have a reason to lie to them. If, for example, he had needed to leave Widow and go into hiding, they would have reason to suspect that he had not been entirely truthful about Mossad's training methods."
"Then why would they believe you?" McGee asked Orli, wincing at how rude he'd sounded as he asked the question.
"They did not," Orli answered simply, not bothered in the least by McGee's line of questioning. "They are reaching for anything they can hold onto, which suggests to me that they are growing increasingly desperate to find your agents."
"Not our agents," Leon responded casually, but he knew that it held little weight to anyone in the room, save for Pruitt and Thompson, who hadn't known the pair. True, Agents DiNozzo and David were no longer official members of the NCIS roster, but they would always be important to the team, and this case had become a priority, though the leads had been few and far between.
"And yet, you still wish to protect them, hmm?" Orli knew that she had them there – none of the people present, including the two newest members of the team, could stand aside if there was some way that they could help Tony and Ziva escape this threat.
"So, Director Elbaz, what do you suggest?" Director Vance had turned to address only Orli, and she turned to face him, meeting him head-on.
"I suggest you find your agents before Widow does."
Day had turned to evening, and Ziva was still not any closer to giving birth. She was still lying on her side on the ground, clinging to Tony's hand, and Tony was still trying to keep her calm, despite not knowing how much longer he'd have to watch her suffer through it.
The contractions were holding steady, long bursts of pain followed by a brief interlude, and Ziva began to try to mentally count the time in between them, but she got distracted each time by her worry over what she should be doing. Finally, she turned to Tony after a particularly painful contraction had passed. "You can tell when I am having one, yes?" she asked, fairly sure that he could, but wanting to make sure.
"You squeeze the crap out of my hand the whole time, Ziva, yeah," he joked, and she was too drained to say anything in response to his sarcasm. If that had him worried, he didn't show it, but she had to know that he felt terrible that he could do nothing for her.
"I need you to time how long they last. Find a way to count. And then count how long before the next one."
Tony began to nod, but he was wondering how that might help. "Are you sure that's going to…" He didn't finish the question. Neither he nor Ziva was an expert, but if Ziva thought it would help the process, he wouldn't argue with her.
"On the next one," she said between gritted teeth, squeezing his hand tightly as she suffered through another one. This was the most painful thing she had ever done in her life, but god, she wanted this child, and she was prepared to do whatever it took, even go through this. Not like they could go back now.
Once the pain from the current contraction subsided, she met Tony's gaze, and he nodded at her, saying, "I've got you." She breathed slowly, trying to concentrate on that aspect of things, knowing instinctively that whatever happened she did need to breathe, and before long, she was squeezing Tony's hand, and he was counting to himself, moving his lips as he did so. Ziva closed her eyes against the pain again, waiting out the pain, and when it had passed, she looked up to see that Tony had scribbled something quickly into the dirt and was counting anew, timing how long it was before the next one.
God, but she loved him.
He was here to support her despite neither of them knowing what to do. Neither of them could just pack up and walk away now, but he'd done everything she'd asked without hesitation, trusting that she knew what she needed in order to do this. He hadn't left her side in hours, despite probably being hungry and tired himself. Another contraction hit and Tony wrote the number he'd counted to on the off-cycle into the dirt, and once it passed, he told her what he'd counted.
"The contraction lasted about 87 seconds, and it was just over two minutes before the next one started. Uh, Ziva, do you even know how long this stuff is supposed to be?"
"No," she admitted, heaving a tired sigh. She tried to wrack her brain, trying to think of anything she had ever heard about labor and delivery, looking for any information she could retrieve that might help her with this process, but she was exhausted as it was, and she was having more and more trouble focusing on anything but the pain.
"Ziva, it's going to be okay," Tony said softly, stroking her hair, and she huffed out an indignant breath at that. He tried to be as soothing as possible, but he knew that there was hardly anything he could do. He couldn't tell her how much longer it was going to be.
"Tony…" she trailed off when another contraction hit.
He continued to hold her through it, encouraging her to breathe deeply, to focus on only the sound of his voice. If she hadn't known any better, she'd say he was hypnotizing her, but having something to focus on was actually helping, at least a little. "You have to have faith, Ziva," he said softly when she finally relaxed again. "Your body is going to know what to do."
"My body seems to be rebelling against me at this current moment," she said dryly, and Tony laughed at that. She shook weakly, a faint smile on her lips, but she was exhausted, and she had no idea how much longer it would be before they would have their child. Or maybe she was supposed to be actually doing something and it would never come out, and they'd be stuck in this infinite contraction loop until they both died of starvation.
Well, that wasn't very likely, she rationalized. "Call it a hunch," he whispered, leaning over to kiss her forehead. He didn't want to leave her for very long, but it was getting dark out and they were still outside, thinking it would be less messy to have the child out there. Tony had lain the tarp down on the ground to catch the blood and whatever else it should, but now he was thinking that it might be a good idea to move Ziva inside, just in case something happened to stumble upon two humans who were obviously in a very difficult position, defense-wise.
"Maybe we should move inside," he suggested, and Ziva glared at him as she struggled through another contraction, but despite the pain and her difficulty concentrating on much of anything else, she couldn't help feeling that he was right.
She just wasn't sure if she was going to be able to get up for that long. "Need… you… to… help me," she gasped out, and Tony nodded in response.
"Okay Ziva, listen to me. When this contraction ends, I'm going to help you stand, okay? And then I'm going to walk you back into the house and help you sit down. I'll stay with you through the next one, and then I'll come back out here and get the tarp and bring it inside, and then you can lie back down, okay?"
The pain was excruciating, but she seemed to hear him, as she nodded quickly against the pain. She still held his hand in a vice grip through every single one, and while he was certain nothing was broken, he knew that it would be to his benefit when Ziva was finished giving birth so his poor hand could remember how it felt not to be numb.
The contraction ended, and Tony carefully reached behind Ziva and lifted her up, making sure that she was able to walk before he put his arm around her waist and led her inside. They were walking slowly, and while Ziva felt somewhat steady on her feet, she didn't want to risk walking without his support, as her whole body was exhausted and she also felt very weak. Not a feeling she was exactly used to, but then again, neither was childbirth.
They'd barely gotten across the threshold and into the door when the next contraction hit, and Ziva stopped short, her knees locking as she crashed against him, and Tony had to steady himself against the door frame just to keep upright. He hadn't been expecting that they wouldn't make it into the house before the next contraction hit, and he wasn't sure if Ziva even could stand on her own through the pain without him holding her upright. He rubbed her back lightly, hoping that it was helping to ease the pressure, but she merely leaned forward, trying to breathe through it until it ended, taking a deep breath. "I hope standing up didn't hurt anything," he murmured, but Ziva was too out of it to even pay attention to him. He led her slowly to the bench near the kitchen table and sat her down, waiting with her for the next contraction to hit. Once it did, he again rubbed her back and tried to soothe her as best as he could, and when it ended he rushed out of the house as quickly as he could to grab the tarp and the two pillows he'd brought out earlier.
As soon as he came back in, he noted that Ziva was hissing with pain again, and it seemed as though the contractions were coming much closer together than before. He dropped everything and walked over to her, taking her in his arms and comforting her through another contraction. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, but he doubted she even heard him, so consumed she was with breathing through the pain.
She surprised him when she answered, after the pain ceased. "You have nothing to be sorry for," she murmured, squeezing his hand lightly. He kissed her on the forehead and then the lips before parting from her, spreading out the tarp on the ground and arranging the pillows so that she could go back into a reclining position.
"On the bed," she breathed, and Tony looked at her, confused. That wasn't what they had talked about when they'd discussed how they would handle the delivery part of this entire process. They'd chosen to use the tarp so that cleanup after would be simple, and setting her up on the bed might make things more difficult.
Still, he didn't want to argue, since she was the one going through labor, so Tony sat through another contraction with her, and then took the sleeping bag off the bed so that he could spread the tarp over it, and then led Ziva over to the bed, sitting her down on the edge of it as she worked through yet another contraction.
She pushed herself back so that she was leaning against the wall, sitting sideways on the bed, and motioned for Tony to hand her the pillows. He obliged, and he helped her sit forward so that she could arrange the pillows to her liking. She was able to prop her legs on the edge of the bed, and Tony marveled at her thinking, though he wasn't sure he was really ready for this whole delivery thing. Still.
He was ready for it to be over, but he had to actually get through the delivery part first, which terrified him. "Do you think it is close?" he asked her, and she shook her head lazily. She didn't know, and neither did he, but maybe now she could be a bit more comfortable as they waited for their child to finally decide it was ready to be born.
Tony slid up the bed and sat beside her, holding her hand again and calming her through every contraction. It was well into nighttime now, and the crickets were chirping outside their window in between Ziva's cries of discomfort. It might have been hours that they lay there, but Tony had no way of knowing, so he just sat up with her, hoping that it would all be over soon.
"Ungh," Ziva grunted, shifting slightly. Tony shot up, fear in his eyes as he spoke to her.
"What, what? Is everything okay?"
"It feels…" she winced, shutting her eyes against the pain. "Pressure. I… I can feel it." She looked at him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I think it's time for me to push now."
"Are you sure?" Just then, a sensation that Ziva would never be able to describe for as long as she lived overtook her. It was a feeling that her body was actually pushing for her, and she struggled against it, momentarily. She didn't know if she was supposed to push yet, but her body was not exactly giving her that option.
"It's like…" she struggled against it, panting as she clung to Tony's hand. "It's almost like… pushing… on its own…"
Tony didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't, at least not right away. He had never heard such a thing, but then again, he hadn't ever been in a delivery room before. "Maybe you should help it along? Do you think you should push?"
He had no idea if what he was suggesting was correct, but if her body was trying to force the baby out on its own, then maybe she should help it. Maybe that's just how it worked. "Okay," she breathed, and she waited. The next contraction, she would do it. "Next one," she said, bracing herself. Perhaps soon it would be over.
"I've got you," he breathed, and he did. He wasn't sure if he was needed more to hold her hand or to catch the baby as it came out, but he decided to stay with her as long as he could. Soon, she was tensing again, and he knew it was time. He opted not to tell her to push, despite what he'd seen in pretty much every movie, trusting that she would when she was good and ready. "You've got this, Ziva," he encouraged just as she squeezed his hand harder than before and bore down, her chin into her chest as she pushed.
She panted for breath when she couldn't possibly push any longer, sucked in one deep breath, and pushed again, trying harder this time. She could feel it now, the baby was so close, and it was trying to get out. She'd never expected that it would feel like this, like her whole body was trying to force the child out of her, but she felt immense pride at her body knowing what her mind did not. Ziva made one more push before the contraction ended, and she leaned back, taking deep breaths as she waited for the next one.
"How do you feel?" Tony asked, not wanting to give her words of encouragement she probably didn't want. She squeezed his hand – lightly, this time – and laughed quietly, her eyelids drooping, heavy with her exhaustion.
"Exhausted," she answered honestly, "but ready. I do not think it will be long." As if her body had been waiting for her to finish her sentence, another contraction hit her, and Ziva resumed helping it push, giving all she had to the effort. She was panting in between, but she managed to push three more times during the current contraction, leaning her head back on the pillow, her hair soaked with sweat as she prepared herself for the next bout.
"Almost done," Tony whispered, and she smiled at him, as best she could, given the circumstances. Unlike what she had seen in movies, she did not want to scream obscenities at him, or curse his name for getting her in this predicament. He had been nothing but supportive the entire time, and she knew she was strong enough to handle this.
"I love you," she whispered, and Tony stared at her, surprised. He, too, had been expecting Ziva to launch into a tirade of hatred, the likes of which he had never seen, but she hadn't. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, patting her cheek lightly before he leaned back, getting ready for the next contraction. Soon, they would have their baby.
He could hardly believe it was happening, that he was leaning over her on a homemade bed in the middle of absolute nowhere while she prepared to bring a child – their child – into the world. He'd had months to prepare, but it suddenly didn't feel like enough. Everything was about to change.
Tony mentally headslapped himself. He couldn't panic now. Ziva needed him.
As soon as he snapped himself out of it, she was in the midst of another contraction, and he watched as her face contorted with concentration and sheer will, as she pushed with all her might, holding onto his hand for dear life. "Oh," she groaned, "I feel it, like… it's like a burning, Tony. I can't…" she started to push again, unable to form the words. "I think… it's… I think it's finally coming out," she gasped, and Tony let her hand go so that he could check.
What he saw was nothing short of amazing. Ziva had been right, and the baby's head was indeed beginning to emerge. "You have to keep going," he instructed, not sure how this was supposed to work, but certain that it would… it would suffocate, right? Ziva met his gaze and understood what he was saying without words, and she bore down again, harder than she ever had in her life, and he watched with disbelief as more of the head began to emerge.
Another push and the head was almost completely out, and Tony urged her to push one more time. "We've got this," he encouraged, and he almost slapped himself for the use of we, but Ziva didn't seem to notice, she just waited for the next contraction and pushed as soon as she felt the urge.
Once the head finally came through, it was only two smaller pushes before the entire baby was out, and Tony couldn't resist being the one to check. "It's a girl, Ziva," he breathed, and soon there were tears running down his face as he held her, and then he was handing the baby over to Ziva, who held her close to her skin and breathed with exhaustion.
"Hi, beautiful," she cooed, tears running down her face as she looked upon her daughter, memorizing her beautiful face the instant she laid her eyes upon it. She was perfect. "She isn't crying," Ziva said, trying not to panic. Tony had noted that as well, but didn't know if he was supposed to do anything. The doctors on TV always spanked the baby, but he had no intention of causing any harm to his child, whether she would remember it or not. He looked at the baby's nose and did what he could to unblock her airway, and soon she let out a loud wail, and both he and Ziva joined in, their relief evident as Ziva held her, doing her best to soothe the baby's shock at being brought into the world.
"You should clean her," Ziva said after several minutes, but Tony didn't exactly want to pull her away from her mother. Ziva had worked hard to birth her, and she should have all the time she wanted with her.
"Right now? Why don't you rest, hold her for a bit?" he offered, not wanting to take her away so soon. "Or at least, you hold her while I go get some water, and I can clean her in here. I don't … I don't want to take her outside right now."
Ziva understood immediately what Tony was feeling. He was afraid, afraid to handle her. "You won't break her, Tony," she said softly, and he smiled at her, but she could still see the doubt in his eyes. Still, he left the house just long enough to get some water and a clean cloth to clean the baby with, and Ziva relaxed as she felt her daughter's soft breathing against her skin.
When he came back and Tony moved to take her, she realized that they hadn't cut the umbilical cord. Laughing, she instructed Tony to get a knife, and he did, working slowly and carefully to cut the cord, not wanting to take any risk of cutting their precious newborn, who had already fallen asleep peacefully against Ziva's chest.
Once the cord was cut, Tony took the baby and cleaned her off, finally wrapping her up, first in a small cloth, one of many that they would be using as a diaper, and then in a larger one meant to be a blanket. She didn't stir through the entire process, and Ziva watched with interest, too exhausted still to attempt getting up. Tony set her down in the basket he had made for her, amazed at how beautiful she truly was, finally looking over at Ziva, who seemed to be thinking the same.
"Oh," Tony said suddenly, noticing that the umbilical cord was still there, and he blushed a little. "Uh, Ziva, the cord…" he said, unsure what he was supposed to do with that.
"I have heard about this before," she said softly, remembering hearing about the afterbirth from other women. "It is the afterbirth, the placenta and… other things, I believe. I do not know all of it. Just help me out, I think I am just supposed to push it out." There was no use feeling awkward about it now, but Ziva couldn't help it. Soon enough, however, that part of the process was taken care of, and she felt, for the moment, like she wanted to attempt to get up.
"Hand me a pair of underwear," she instructed, and Tony reached into her bag where she kept her clothes and handed her a pair. Unfortunately, she knew that she would be bleeding for a while, and she didn't exactly have any pads, so she'd have to be creative about dealing with that part of things. She and the baby would probably both be wearing some sort of diaper for a while.
Once she slid the panties on, she stepped cautiously over to where the baby lay sleeping, wrapping her arms around Tony and kissing him on the shoulder. She was very sore, but she didn't want to just lie around, feeling as though getting up and being active would aid in the healing process. "She is perfect," Ziva murmured against his skin, and he agreed, turning to pull her into his arms, kissing her gently.
"Thank you," he breathed, and Ziva felt just how overcome with emotion he really was. She didn't need to ask him why he was thanking her, she just knew.
It wasn't long before the baby started to wail, indicating that there was something she needed, and Ziva picked her up gingerly, pulling her close to her and heading over to the bed, which Tony had thankfully removed the tarp from. Amazingly, the bed had remained clean thanks to their forethought.
Ziva carefully slid up onto the bed and leaned against the headboard, propping a pillow up behind her, and led the baby to her breast. She was surprised when the baby immediately responded to the nipple in front of her, suckling happily.
"Wow," Tony breathed as he watched, and Ziva smiled, trying to hide a blush. Everything was so different now. The sensation of the baby breastfeeding was weird, and she giggled a little at how it felt to have the newborn latched on so firmly.
She could tell that Tony wanted to ask, so she spoke up for him. "No, it does not hurt," she said, smiling lovingly as she caught his gaze. "It feels… weird though. My entire chest has tightened up. I cannot really describe it, but that must be how I know that I am lactating." Her knowledge of her own body in the face of it doing extraordinary things astounded even her, and Tony smiled as he watched Ziva with the baby – their baby, wondering what they were going to choose to name her.
He crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed, watching with interest. He had always loved Ziva's breasts, of course, but this was the first time he had ever seen them this way. He was surprised to find that it did not really turn him on; that she was so maternal that they didn't even really appeal to him that way, at least not in this moment. He was more fascinated with how natural the whole thing was. Without any prodding or training, the baby had automatically understood what she was supposed to do. It was nothing short of a miracle.
"Have you decided what to name her?" Tony asked quietly, lightly brushing the baby's head with his hand, marveling at the tiny being now latched on to his wife's chest. They'd spoken about it before, of course, but ultimately, he had left it up to her, stating that either of the names they'd agreed on would be perfectly fine with him. He had wanted to make sure that if she did choose to name her after her sister, that it would be fully her decision.
"Every time I look at her, she looks like she must be named Tali, so I am going to give her my sister's name. Talia Antonia," she said softly, and the baby raised her arm, an involuntary motion certainly, but it was almost as though she was accepting her new name.
"Talia Antonia DiNozzo," Tony spoke, and his heart swelled with pride. This beautiful new life was his, half him and half Ziva, and she was everything he never knew he'd wanted in life. "I'm so proud of you, Ziva," he breathed, and she leaned toward him as much as she could without disturbing Tali, kissing him passionately as they held their child against her.
"I had help," she said when they finally pulled apart, and he pressed his forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes.
"All you," he argued, though he appreciated her acknowledgement all the same. "I love you," he said, kissing her a second time, breaking apart only to add, "Both."
"I love you, too," she breathed, and they sat together on their bed, baby Tali suckling away happily, reveling in their new family unit.
Fun fact: I wasn't going to name this baby Tali when I first started writing this fic over 3 years ago but now that we have Tali in canon, how could I not? I hope that you've enjoyed this latest chapter and please look out for Chapter 15 on Monday.