Chapter 25: First Name

Timothy McGee sits uncomfortably on his computer chair. The monitor is blank-his computer completely shut off. The ticking from his wrist-watch makes him nervous and so he unbuckles it and throws it to the opposite side of the room.

The ticking is frightening. It had been the only means of remembrance while he was being held captive by Mossad. This action makes him remember to stop all the ticking in each clock within his apartment.

He has no one to help him deal with his thoughts. Thankfully, they never seem to overpower his better judgment, but his confidence that had began to increase feels as if it has slipped back to its' past position.

The buzzing of his doorbell snaps him out of his own silence. He stands from his chair, more comfortable now that he is putting his body in a different position-now that he is able to move.

Standing behind his apartment door, he looks to a baseball bat he dug out of his box of childhood things he seldom made time for. As his fingers go for the base, the buzzard buzzes again and causes him to snatch his fingers back.

"McGee, it is Ziva!"

He pauses for a few more moments, afraid that his hearing has been damaged and that the person on the opposite side of the door is not someone familiar.

The buzzard buzzes once more, but he still feels unsure about the situation so he grabs for the bat.

"Look through the hole in your door!"

He sighs, remembering it finally. Leaning into the door with his hand pressed flatly against it, he relaxes when he notices her face.

As he opens the door, he hides the bat behind it as to not look more foolish than he already feels.

"Peep-hole." He says while looking at her.

"What?" She questions.

"The hole in the door-they call it a 'peep-hole'."

"That is ridiculous." She comments and politely waits.

He opens the door wider and steps out of the way. With a small nod of his head, he allows her to enter his home.

She enters smoothly, leaving the door frame untouched by her arms or her legs.

He closes the door and locks it. An instant flashback to Abby's ex-boyfriend managing to find his way into his apartment leaves him with a sour taste in the air.

She takes in his apartment. It is the same as she last saw it and she it makes her smile calmly. The mere sight of something so familiar brings a smile that covers her entire face and a comfort that warms her very soul.

McGee notices her expression and forms a smile of his own, though small. He takes a breath and opens his hand indicating she is allowed to make herself at home.

"Want something to drink?"

"I haven't come here for refreshments, McGee."

He nods, but disappears to grab himself a glass of the water. With this time alone, Ziva tries to calm her racing mind.

"What brings you here?" He asks moments later as he finds a seat on his computer chair once again.

"How are you?"

He blinks once, then twice. Clearing his throat, he finds his tall glass of water. The liquid wets his dry mouth, but it does nothing to settle his nerves.

"Fine."

She takes his lie because she knows it is not one of distrust, but one of pride. Reaching a hand out for his arm, he does not allow it.

"It is okay, McGee."

"…just a reflex, I…I guess." He shrugs casually, trying to appear stronger than he feels at the moment. "…just a reflex, that's all…"

Inwardly she frowns at the sight of him and his reactions to physical contact, but on the outside she is proud at his ability to hold it together as best as he can.

Still, she can not stop the tears from dancing on the brim of her eyes.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Ziva." Tim is on his feet within a second. "I'm sure it's something that'll pass with time…it has to…" He crumbles a bit. "…right?"

"It is within yourself, McGee." She swallows and inhales, trying to keep her tears from spilling. "You will be fine."

"Then why are you so upset?" He takes a step back, knowing his question is foolish. "I mean…why are you…really here, Ziva?"

"I told you that already. I am here to see how you are doing." She uses her hand to quickly rub her tears away.

"I'm here." He shrugs. "…a phone call could have done." He takes his seat in his computer chair for the third time, only this time he pushes it closer to her. "…you should be with Gibbs…we all should be taking turns visiting him."

Fresh tears begin to form, this time slipping past the brim of her eyes.

Knitting his eyes, he tries to understand. "Gibbs'll be alright."

"It isn't that."

"Then what is it?" His hand reaches for her arm, but she pushes herself off his couch in order to try and clear her head. "Ziva?"

"I have been rejected."

"For what? By who?"

"For being self-cornered."

"Self-cornered?" He thinks for a few moments. "You mean, 'self-centered'?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't make any sense." He stands, wanting to join her, but she is pacing in every which direction. "Ziva, stop pacing-and tell me what's going on!"

At the shrill of his voice, she stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes are large and glistening. She looks at her former partner and grits her teeth before finding the strength to open her mouth.

"Abby." She shakes her head from side to side. "…and I don't blame her one bit."

"Abby told you that you weren't allowed to see Gibbs?" His face twists. "She doesn't have the authority to make that call." He mutters lowly. "Abby's got no right to do what she is doing."

"She does." Ziva shrugs slightly. "…she is only there to protect him."

"She's only there to protect herself." McGee shoots in Ziva's direction. "I know Abby, Ziva-and as much as she takes it into her hands to protect Gibbs, she needs him more than he does her."

"She has a point, Mcgee-she has every right to be angry."

"Abby's got every right to be grateful." He sighs loudly. "When Gibbs left, he made sure Abby had the best protection he could find. He made the Director watch over her-how many people get that privilege?"

His question leaves her dumbfounded.

"If that's why you're here-if that's what's bothering you…I'll go to the hospital with you-"

"I do not need your protection, McGee."

"My intentions aren't to protect you, they are only to help you." He pauses for a moment. "The last time I had a conversation with Gibbs it had been before we were split up and taken to our own torture quarters-we argued,actually…and then he was gone and I was alone…he was alone. Deep down I knew I shouldn't had let pettiness interrupt our mission, but I let it get in the way because I was freaking out…and in doing so we both wasted time fighting with one another instead of focusing on trying to make it out alive…instead of finding Tony…instead of finding you…" He sighs loudly for the second time. "I let you down, Ziva…in my own personal way, I let you down…because you are my friend and I think you always have been."

She holds her breath, trying to slow the river that is rolling down her cheeks and splashing onto the floor.

"If you need to see him…because of everything…because of anything…I'm right there with you because I…need to see him, too…regardless of how good it felt to tell him how I truly felt…I owe him an apology."

"What if he isn't awake?"

"He's Gibbs. He'll remember." He smiles slightly.

She finds his hand with her own and gives it a light squeeze.

A nurse stops them before they are able to enter. Scanning the front of their shirts she looks for any existence of a visitors pass. In seconds, McGee and Ziva pull them from their pockets to show her.

"One at a time." She orders while handing them back.

"Isn't there one already inside?" He questions.

"The pig-tailed girl? Nah-we sent her home." She lets the information sink in. "She seemed so clingy-even fell asleep in the chair even when we suggested she leave to get some rest. She a family member?"

"…she's Abby…" McGee says with a grin.

The nurse gives him a funny look, but decides not to ask anything more. "One at a time." She reminds them.

"Yes ma'am." McGee says politely.

"Don't call me ma'am." She retorts.

Ziva grins at the nurses reaction, but soon falls into a comfortable, yet slightly alarming position with her friend.

"You first." Their voices mix in unison.

"I…"

"You should go first, McGee." She says firmly. "It is only right."

"How so?"

"Please…I've waited this long to get to where I am…I can wait longer."

He opens his mouth, a question begging to fall from his lips, but a question he does not feel right in asking.

"Go." She says quietly. "You are a member of his team."

"Ziva-"

"She's right, Probie."

Ziva turns to look at her battered ex-partner. Seeing him once again brings a weight that settles on her already sunken shoulders. "Tony."

"The one and only…" He hums shortly, his eyes glossy and miserable.

"Tony-" McGee begins.

"You heard what she said, Probie-now get in there!" He chirps, forcing a smile on his face. "You've earned it."

"Tony, I've-"

"Put up with our shit all this time…" He shakes his head from side to side slightly. "…can't find another person in this room that deserves to go before all of us."

With his team member and his former team member urging him with their eyes, he loses the battle and agrees. Turning around, he enters and begins his journey to finding some sort of common ground or some sort of peace with his team leader-even if he lays there asleep.

Fifteen minutes later there still is no sight of McGee. The clock on the wall continues to tick and the nurses within the unit continue to buzz.

Ziva sits diagonally from Tony; there she takes in his appearance and wonders how long it will take for him to say something.

A pretty nurse becomes close enough to grab his attention, but he ignores her as if his senses have been yanked from him.

"If you were truly as how I remember you, Tony, you would have been drooling…as they say in America."

He offers her a smile, but the force behind it offends her ever-so-slightly.

"How bad has it been, Tony?"

He looks at her with confusion.

"The drinking-how bad has it been?"

"Not bad…" He sighs. "…nothing…worth giving a single thought, to."

"It is worth a million thoughts if you feel that you are becoming dependant on it."

"I'm not." His voice gruff. "Just something that knocks the chill off every once in a while."

"This is serious!"

"I KNOW THAT!" He shatters, breaking his rest in the chair with an upright outburst. "This isn't about me-now-OKAY?"

Several nurses notice the commotion, but linger in the background waiting for any more rude actions from the troubled man.

"To-"

"Let it go Ziva, or so help me God…" He points his finger at her as he tries to calm his shaky voice. "Leave it alone…leave ME alone…"

"You are foolish to let this consume you!" She barks at him like a mad animal. "Gibbs went down this road and unfortunately there wasn't anyone that was able to get through that thick head of his. Do not make the same mistake-do not do this to yourself…you don't deserve this type of torture."

"What kind do I deserve?" He snorts. "Come on Ziva, they could have died out there-in their hands, and what for? All because I wanted to be a hero? No…" He shakes his head. "That wasn't big of me at all-it was stupid of me-" He sighs loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. "My ego has come right back around to bite me in the ass."

"This isn't the Tony that came for me."

"And this isn't the outcome I had foreseen."

"One can not predict the future."

"It's in us-our training." He tries to make her understand. "You didn't get a chance to fully absorb it until…" He clears his throat. "I know Gibbs, when one of his Agents disappears, he drops everything to find them; he makes it his mission." He laughs heartlessly. "I led the bastard on and unfortunately he had to take along the only Agent left with enough seniority despite the skills he lacks."

"You are belittling McGee."

"I'm telling the truth!" His voice cracks. "What do ya think, Ziva? Ya think McGee in there is keeping a stiff upper-lip? This has nothing to do with my constant teasing of him-this has to do with the fact that he just wasn't ready."

"Yet he was obligated to be a part of it." She dislikes the taste in her mouth. "McGee knows how he feels and what he must do. I suggest you use your time to focus on what you need to do in order to save yourself."

"Ever thought about taking your own advice?" He throws at her like a stick of dynamite.

"My position has nothing to do with this-"

"…and so the saga continues…" Resting his head back against the wall, he hums low in this throat. "Ah, Ziva…Ziva…Ziva…" He lifts the back of his head off the wall a little so he is able to look at her. "You have felt. You have known…yet you never did…"

She blinks and turns her eyes to the empty area over his head. "I took time for granted…" Her eyes begin to tear, but she goes against letting them fall. "…I took everyone for granted."

The sight of her troubled face pains him even through the bitterness of the alcohol. "…maybe we all did…" His eyes try to find her own, but she refuses to look at him.

A soft click turns their attention to McGee. His eyes slightly swelling and his face damp.

Ziva then turns to Tony; finding his eyes instantly.

"Maybe."

His eyes would keep her grounded, but instead they stay closed as she tries to find a comfortable spot inside the cold and empty hospital room. Somewhere she can stand; somewhere that is not far from the door in case any amount of questionable anger would flare up inside of him once he saw her face.

She felt unusually juvenile whenever she dealt with the issue of facing him. Her wrong-doings were hers only even if she wanted to lead Tony into believing that they each played a role in the destruction that surrounded the group.

Still, she felt a force pulling her towards his bedside. Once there, she felt her hand being lifted by a force she did not want to claim as her own, and soon made contact with his hand. It lay still and bandaged, but the tips of his fingers were visible to her.

The knowledge of this made her hold her breath, her mind telling her she should keep away from them, but her heart telling her that the only way to bring her some sort of comfort for what has happened is if she will touch even the tiniest bit of his skin.

So her fingers lay on top of the bandage, slowly inching their way to his bare skin, and then the door opens.

She pulls her hand back abruptly, turning completely around to face the unnamed red head fully. Ziva knits her eyebrows for a second, then an automatically a flashback plays inside of her head.

"Hello, I am…" She stops herself short as she realizes that everything she once was is no more. "…Ziva David…I've worked closely with Gibbs once before."

The red head grins, but she does not speak. Coming over to him, she touches his face gently. This action causes Ziva's eyes to fall to the floor and there she studies her feet. Suddenly the slight comfort in the room is replaced with a feeling of not belonging.

"Will he be okay?"

"We are hoping." Ziva offers quietly. Her eyes fall from the side of the woman's face to her hand that continues to touch the pale flesh on his face. "I should go."

"Stay." The woman withdraws her hand. "Only passing through."

"Who are you?" The words slip past the former Mossad's mouth.

"A friend." The woman says calmly before giving him one final look and exiting his hospital room.

As the door clicks into place, a weight that had developed on top of Ziva's shoulders melts away into the clean air. Inhaling sharply, she turns around slowly and watches as the sleeping make wakes at that very moment.

"Gibbs." She voices herself quickly.

Closing his eyes, he opens them after a few seconds. He lays there staring at her, lips unmoving and body completely still.

Ziva behaves in the same way except she is standing rather than lying down. Her neck throbs as her shoulders stiffen in an uncomfortable manner.

The expression on his face is somewhat blank, but somewhat uncertain. The distrust in his face is for her alone and she knows it better than she knows her own social security number. It is almost as if he is silently telling her that her presence is not welcome and he wants her to leave.

She can feel her jaw clenching and unclenching every few seconds, but she is frozen into place. Her mind screaming at her to leave, but her heart telling her that she needs to go through with what she originally planned.

"Gibbs…" She tries again.

His neutral expressions turns into a frown full of so many unrespectable emotions. Turning away from her, he settles his gaze outside the large windows to his left.

"You got something to say-" He states as gruffly as he can. "Then spit it out…"

Her tongue stays in place as her insides begin to crush with anticipation of hearing her last name being thrust in the open, but suddenly he turns to look at her again. His expression still unnerving and cold, but his eyes flashing with something else she is unfamiliar with.

"…Ziva." He says quietly.