Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.


Ziva rolled over in bed. Sleep had been evading her for days now. Ever since the nightmare. It had been memories of Ziva's time in Somalia. She had the same dream for years now. It was a part of her PTSD, as was insomnia and fear of having another one.

Ziva glanced over at Tony, fast asleep. She looked at the time on her phone. 1.23 am. Almost three hours of trying to sleep and nothing. Ziva goy out of bed and went into the living room. Tali's new toys from her birthday were piled up next to the TV and her birthday cards were standing on the shelves.

It was the beginning of July, a week after Tali's birthday and four days before Tony's. Senior and Abby had come into town for both, plus 4th July. Tony had said, that just because they lived in Paris, didn't mean they couldn't celebrate 4th July. That was tomorrow. Or today actually. Midnight had been and gone. Ziva struggled to keep time straight during her insomnia stretches.

Ziva sat down in her favourite armchair and picked up her journal.

'Hey, you OK?' Ziva looked up and saw Tony standing in the doorway.

'Yes' replied Ziva. 'Just struggling to sleep.' Tony nodded. He knew about her nightmare three days ago. Fortunately, it avoided Tali's birthday celebrations, but since then, Tony knew Ziva had been struggling. Tony walked over and squished next to Ziva. The armchair was big enough for both of two adults who liked to cuddle.

Ziva reached to the back of her journal and pulled out a business card. She handed it to Tony.

'What's this?' he asked.

'It is a support group, for people who have PTSD and anxiety. People like me.' Ziva's voice was quiet, though calm.

'Are you going to go?' asked Tony, giving it back to Ziva. She took a deep breath.

'I do not know.' Ziva tucked it back into her journal. 'Unlike before, I am talking about it. I talk to Dr. Leroux, to you and to some extent to Clara. It feels good to talk about it.'

'But?'

'None of you actually live with anxiety and PTSD.' Ziva sat up a little and turned to look at Tony. 'I know that you have your own mental health… is 'issues' the right word.' Tony shrugged. 'Somalia, the Benoit case, things you have witnessed over the years. I am not trying to say that it is not any less important or…' Ziva tailed off.

'But it is different' finished Tony. Ziva nodded.

'What I went through in Somalia… talking to somebody, or to people who, who have very similar experiences, it might.'

Tony brushed his thumb across Ziva's cheek and smiled. He was so proud of her. Years ago, Ziva pushed everyone away. She had hated relying on other people to do things for her, to help her. Going to therapy with Leroux so early on had slightly surprised Tony, but Ziva had told him that she needed to start to heal and get better for Tali's sake. For their family's sake.

'Are you going to go?' asked Tony. 'I could always go with you and wait.' Ziva smiled and rubbed her hand on Tony's leg.

'I know and I love you for it' said Ziva. 'But I think it might be something I need to do myself.'

'OK' replied Tony. He kissed the top of Ziva's head. 'You going to stay out here?'

'For a bit.'

Tony kissed her head again. He got up and went to leave the room.

'I love you Zi, and I'm proud of you.' Ziva smile.

'Thank you, Tony. I love you too.'


A few days later, Ziva found herself walking towards the community centre that held the PTSD support group. She stopped for a minute, outside the door. She could feel her instincts fight her, not wanting to let her go inside. They hadn't wanted Ziva to go and see Dr. Leroux. The old Ziva would have given into them.

The new Ziva, however, was determined to not let them win. Those instincts belonged in the past, to her father. She had to fight them to be the best Ima for Tali. Ziva took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

It was a medium-sized room with a high ceiling and a lot of windows. The room was on the second floor meaning that you got a view of the garden the centre had. Chairs had been arranged in a circle and a table with tea, coffee and biscuits stood nearby. Ziva hovered near the door. Eventually, a man came over to her.

'Bonjour' he said, kindly.

'Bonjour' replied Ziva.

'Are you here for the support group?' he asked. Ziva nodded. 'First time?' Ziva nodded again. 'Come, let's get a drink.'


Tony was in bed when Ziva got in from the support group.

'How was it?' he asked, as Ziva got ready for bed.

'It was good.' Ziva felt calm. She hadn't felt like that in a couple of weeks.

'Are you going back?'

'I think I might.' Tony smiled. 'What, Tony?'

'I'm just proud of you, Zi.'

Ziva climbed into bed and kissed Tony. The group had been good. The first person who spoke to her was Louis. He worked at the community centre. Louis had introduced Ziva to Philippe. He ran the group and was glad that Ziva had turned up.

'The first time is always the hardest' said Philippe.

Everyone sat down and started talking and sharing. About their day, their week, their children and loved ones. They talked about experiences and Ziva found shared experiences with men and women. There was Anton who was a former soldier, Jacques who was a journalist. Both had been held captive, though by different captors in different countries. Annalise had experienced sexual violence and Yara had fled from Syria. They all had different stories, yet similar. They all had different PTSD, yet similar.

It had the effect that Ziva had sort of hoped for. Being with and talking to people who lived with PTSD had been good. Ziva had not shared, but knowing that others struggled with what she struggled with had helped her. On this particular night in July, Ziva did not feel alone or afraid.

Ziva went to reach over and flick the light off. Tony stopped her.

'Are you sure?' he asked. Ziva smiled. She knew where he was coming from.

'Yes, Tony. I am sure.' Ziva flicked the switch and the room plunged into darkness. Ziva shuffled over and placed her head on Tony's shoulder, who wrapped his arm around her.

Slowly Ziva began to fall asleep.


Hope you enjoyed it.

One of my favourite TV shows is Mom with Anna Faris and Alison Janney. It's about a group of women who support each other during their recovery of alcohol addiction. What I love about the show is the support the characters give each other. There is also no judgment between the characters on Mom. This was the inspiration for the PTSD support group.

If you struggled with mental health, you are not alone.

Thank you for reading and your wonderful, lovely, kind reviews. They make me smile.

See you soon :)