Chapter 42

"What do you have to say, Tony?" Ziva asked.

Tony looked anywhere but at her for a few seconds. Then, he took a breath and sat down on a chair. He finally made eye contact.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Ziva asked.

"For making things harder for you... while I was busy making them harder for myself, thinking it was easier."

"What do you mean?" Ziva asked.

"I've talked to Dr. Hicks a couple of times and... and he kind of... smacked me down for what I've been doing. He..." Tony looked away again. "I can see why Tim keeps going to him. He knows what he's doing and he really wants to help."

"And?" Ziva asked.

"And... I'm going to try to fix this, but... but right now, it seems impossible. Dr. Hicks keeps saying that it's not as hard as I think it is, but I don't see that yet. But I... before we're working together again, I wanted you to know that... that I heard you. I did." He looked up again. "I heard you, Ziva."

Ziva swallowed, feeling more nervous about this than she would admit. But at the same time, she needed Tony to be explicit, and not talk around it.

"What did you hear?" she asked, softly.

He didn't look away.

"I heard you say that you love me."

Silence. Tony shifted a little bit.

"And if I'm wrong, you need to tell me right now because..." he paused and laughed a little. "...I need to not be wrong about that."

"No. You are not wrong, but I meant what I said, Tony. All of what I said." Ziva shook her head. "I cannot watch someone I care about destroy himself. I have seen it. More than once in my life, and even if I really could survive seeing it again, I refuse to put myself through that... that pain. I have not loved Ray for years, and still it hurt to see what he became, what he did to himself. I will not watch it again."

"I get that."

"Do you?" Ziva asked. She was afraid to let out everything she was feeling until she truly understood Tony's feelings.

"Yeah. I do." Tony hesitated. "That's a lot like what I told myself after Jeanne."

For just a moment, Ziva didn't know who Tony was talking about. It had been such a long time since that disastrous undercover mission (and so many big events in between) and even now, Ziva couldn't really remember anything about Jeanne except that she had been a doctor. But she did remember that Tony had been deeply affected by the relationship, not really in a good way.

"What did you tell yourself?" Ziva asked.

"I decided that... I just wasn't meant for good relationships so it would be better for everyone if I stayed away from them. ...but I really meant that it would be better for me because I wouldn't have to deal with the hurt when they fell apart. Maybe I could handle it, but I didn't want to."

Silence.

Tony looked down at the paper he had in his hands and Ziva looked out the window.

Neither of them enjoyed these kinds of conversations. They were doers more than talkers. It was easier to avoid what was hard rather than talk about it. Substantive conversations were not their strong suits. Those kinds of conversations were complicated and difficult and sometimes painful. In different ways, they had both learned the art of avoidance and breaking that habit was hard to do.

"So why did you tell me?" Tony asked. "Why now?"

Ziva looked back and smiled a little bit. "Perhaps because nothing else was working."

"How long have you felt that way?" Tony asked, carefully not saying the word.

"I am not sure. Longer than you might think. It... came gradually, not all at once," Ziva said, not saying the word either.

"Why didn't you say something before?"

"You did not seem interested," Ziva said, bluntly. "Are you?"

Tony cleared his throat and stood up so that he could face the window. Ziva wasn't sure how to take that. There was some hurt because it seemed to be a rejection...and yet, would Tony have felt it so necessary to talk to her before coming to work if that was all it was? Quite frankly, she wasn't sure.

Then, Tony looked down at his little piece of paper again and Ziva was suddenly curious about what it was.

"Tony, what is that?" she asked.

"What is what?"

"That paper. You keep looking at it. What is it?"

"Oh." Tony actually seemed really embarrassed by the question.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

It was obviously something. So Ziva decided to take advantage of the fact that Tony wasn't really looking at her. She jumped to her feet and grabbed the paper from Tony's hand before he realized her intentions.

"Hey!"

He tried to grab it back, but Ziva was too quick for him. She looked at it and then stopped trying to get away.

It didn't have much on it.

"'You have to be honest'?" Ziva said, asking a question just by reciting the words he'd written.

Tony turned around and took the piece of paper back. He fiddled with it for a few seconds.

"Dr. Hicks said that I have to be willing to say what I actually feel, even if I'm afraid of what the results might be. He said that hiding my feelings only makes it harder to be myself and harder to accept the world around me." He sighed. "When I decided that I needed to talk to you... I knew I would... want to lie, that I wouldn't want to tell you what I was feeling, what I was thinking. So I decided to make sure I remembered what I needed to do."

"And what is the truth of what you feel?" Ziva asked. "If you need to tell me, then, tell me."

"The truth..." Tony walked back to the couch and sat down again. He ran his hands through his hair, making it poke out in odd directions.

"Tell me, Tony. I will even promise not to tease you or berate you. I just want to know what you are feeling right now."

Tony let out his breath in a whoosh and then finally looked at her again.

"The truth is that I'm afraid to love you," he said in a rush. "I'm afraid that if I do I'll just ruin something else in my life...and if I do that, I'm ruining your life, too. And right now, I can't deal with the idea of destroying someone else."

He held her gaze for just a moment and then he sighed and looked down at the floor.

Ziva stared at Tony's desolate stance. He wasn't what he usually was...or at least what he usually pretended to be. Suddenly, she was reminded of another time when Tony was not what he usually was.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Tony, what is it?"

Tony looked down at her hand, at the bandaged wrist, and suddenly he couldn't keep it in anymore. He began to cry, bending over, almost double, holding onto Ziva's hand as if it was a lifeline. Shocked, she pulled him to her and hugged him, looking at Gibbs over his shoulder, her eyes wide.

"Tony, what is it?" Gibbs asked, repeating Ziva's question.

Tony tried to speak, but at that moment, all he could see was Ziva, lying on the ground...and Tim, leaning against his desk, both limp and weak from pain. What's the difference?

"What happened?" Ziva asked. Tony only released her hand in order to hold her tightly. "Tony, please. Tell us what is wrong!"

"I hit him," Tony said, his voice more shaky than they'd ever heard it. "I hit him...and I hurt him." He swore. "It wasn't...I didn't mean to...but I hit him and he fell, almost passed out. He...McGee got...hit by shrapnel...on his back...and...and that's where I hit him. I didn't know! I didn't want...but...at the same time I did. I'm no better than they are. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Ziva swallowed and still held him. She was torn between fury that Tony would hurt Tim and shock at his obvious remorse...a remorse much more intense than she would have expected.

"Tony...it is...it is all right."

"No, it's not, Ziva. It's not all right...because...because McGee blames himself for what happened to us. He's trying to do it all alone...because he doesn't want us to get hurt...and I wanted him to get hurt."

Ziva looked at Gibbs again, pleading for help. Gibbs stood and slowly walked over to the bed. He sat down beside the two and took Tony by the shoulders, pulling him from Ziva's arms. He hung limply. There was no vestige, not a single trace of the brash, confident Anthony DiNozzo they had known. Tony was broken...as surely as Tim had been.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Just as all those years ago, Tony's self-conception was under attack and he couldn't tolerate it. It was almost as if he had decided to say what he considered to be the worst thing about himself just to make sure she knew what she could be getting into.

...forgetting that Ziva already knew what she could be getting into.

And now, she also saw that even if Tony did reciprocate her feelings, he couldn't manage that right now. He had said it at the beginning. He couldn't see the potential yet. He just saw his own failures. The main difference was that he was acknowledging that he might not be seeing right.

She walked over to the couch and sat down beside him. Then, cautiously, she reached out and gently took the paper from his hand. She set it on the table. Then, Ziva took one of Tony's hands and held it in her own.

"Tony, you said that you needed to know that you were right that I loved you. You said that you could not be wrong about it. If you can do nothing about it at the moment, I still need what you needed. I need to know that there is a possibility. If there is, I can wait. I can do what is needed to help you. But I need to know."

Tony cupped his hand around hers. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking at their hands.

"When I realized what you said, I was shocked," he whispered. "I couldn't believe it. I just sat there and... and I know everything you were saying was important, but that's what I couldn't stop hearing in my head."

Then, he looked up.

"That's why I'm trying, even though I feel like I can only fail." He paused. "Ziva... you are why I'm trying."

Ziva's grip on his hand tightened.

"Then, I will help you...until you feel like you can succeed."

They sat there, together, holding each other's hands.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Ellie was sitting at her computer, staring at the screen, wondering why it was that she felt so worried. All these years of working remotely with Tim on the NSA security, she had thought she was suspicious, that she couldn't wait until the job was done so that Tim could go back to his own work and she could focus just on her regular work.

But now, it had been weeks since Tim had been in the NSA system, testing whether or not the system was working...and whether or not Ellie was watching, and Ellie found that she missed it, that Tim not doing that was something that was troubling rather than a relief.

She'd been sitting here all day, wishing that things were back to normal. Finally, she decided that maybe she should report Tim's silence to Director Gellman. It was a little later in the day, but she knew that he typically stayed late. If he had the time, he'd probably want to know. He'd taken a special interest in Tim's welfare for quite some time.

Decision made, she left her desk and walked to the director's office, a place she'd been more times than she had ever thought she would.

"Is Director Gellman in his office?" she asked his assistant.

"Yes. Is this urgent?"

"I don't think it is," she said. "It's about Agent McGee, but I don't think it's vitally important."

"Okay. Wait just a second." He called into the office. "Director, Agent Bishop is out here, requesting to speak with you. She says it's not urgent, but it's about Agent McGee."

There was a pause. The assistant's eyebrow went up as he looked at her.

"All right, you can go right in."

Ellie smiled. "Thanks."

She walked into the office.

"Have a seat, Agent Bishop. What is it?" Director Gellman said. "I don't have a lot of time."

"Yes, sir. I haven't seen any sign of Agent McGee in our system since his rescue. I wasn't sure if this was something I should be worried about or not."

An eyebrow went up.

"To my understanding, he is still recovering."

"I wasn't aware that he was injured, sir," Ellie said, feeling more concerned.

"He wasn't. Not physically."

"Oh." She didn't know what to say about that.

Director Gellman smiled. "I haven't been keeping up to date, but I'm sure he'll contact me when he's ready and he may contact you as well, but otherwise, I'll let you know."

"Thank you, Director."

"Is that everything, Agent Bishop?"

"Yes. That was all."

"Good. And good work in watching out for him. I doubt most would have noticed those little changes he made. Finding him definitely depended on that quick beginning."

Ellie felt her cheeks warm a little. She was being reprimanded by Director Gellman more often than praised by him.

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, it's getting late, so I'd recommend that you go home."

"Yes, sir."

Ellie stood up and left the office, feeling strange. She'd always been extremely ambivalent about working with Tim, always wondering what he was really doing, but apparently, his experience had been so awful that even weeks later, he was still getting over it.

It was making her reconsider how she viewed Tim and who he was.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Levi was sitting in the study, thinking. But he wasn't thinking about Tim. He was thinking about his daughter. Bri was still here, although she'd be heading back to New York soon since he was definitely on the mend. That was a good thing. She'd put her life on hold when Tamara had called her and asked her to come down.

And things had been different. Bri herself had been quieter the last few days. He was considering why that might be. After dinner that night, he had come into the study and closed the door, preferring to do his thinking in private for a while before bringing his thoughts into view of anyone else.

He hardly dared consider the possibility that Bri might finally be softening toward him. It was something he wanted but not something she had been willing to give. That being the case, he hadn't pushed her for it. But at the same time, things were different.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Tamara peeked in.

"Levi, how much longer are you going to be up?"

"I don't know," Levi said. "I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"About the possibility that Bri might be thinking of me with something other than anger and contempt."

Tamara's expression changed and she walked into the study, closing the door behind her. She sat down in front of him, her expression almost pitying.

"Is that really what you think she feels?"

"Before a few days ago? Yes."

"No, Levi."

Levi laughed although he kept his tone gentle.

"Tamara, even if Bri's attitude might have changed now, please don't pretend. We both know that..."

"That Bri was hurt by your actions and she chose to hide that beneath a thin veneer of anger. Contempt? Never."

"Regardless, it's seemed different."

"She was afraid for you."

"I'm as good as I ever am."

"Now, you are. Levi, you pushed yourself too far this time."

"I know," Levi said. "But I had to. Where Tim is concerned, I'll always have to."

"He wouldn't agree."

"I know, but it's not for him that I'm doing it."

"Then, who is it for?"

Levi smiled. "For myself... in the hopes that I might be able to soften God's heart so that I don't have to spend eternity in Hell for everything I've done in my life."

Tamara was quiet for a few seconds.

"I didn't know you even believed in God."

"I feel that I don't really have any choice but to do so. Even if I don't go to a synagogue or a church or a mosque or anything like that, it doesn't change whether or not God exists. Perhaps it's just because of my upbringing, but I've never questioned the existence of God. I only wonder how punitive He might be."

"I can't speak for God," Tamara said.

"I know. I wasn't asking you to."

"But I can speak for your daughter to some degree. Bri loves you. What happened three years ago and what's happened now has shaken her. She's realized that she could potentially lose you, and she knows that she doesn't want to lose you with this strain. She wants her father back."

"She can't have what she lost, Tamara. That's utterly impossible. I can't be that man for Bri any more than I could be that man for you. I can't change the last thirty years of my life."

"I know that. But that doesn't mean you can't still be a father. It just means that you won't be the same father you were. Brianna is your daughter and it's high time that both of you were willing to admit it." Tamara stood up and then leaned over and kissed him on the head. "You need to shave. You're getting prickly again."

Levi chuckled a little at that.

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Anytime. Don't stay up too late. You're better, but you still need your sleep."

"I won't."

Tamara left and Levi opened the drawer and pulled out a photo. It was of himself and Bri when she was about three years old. He was smiling, throwing Bri up in the air and she was laughing. There was an innocence in that photo that he hadn't had for a very long time. He hadn't thought he had grown up innocent. Having the Holocaust as his family history didn't seem conducive to real innocence, but looking at the photos and videos from those early years, he had been far more innocent than he had ever thought.

But that innocence was long gone.

"I wish I could be that man again," he said softly.

He sighed and set the photo down on the desk. Then, he got up and went to bed, leaving the complicated thoughts aside until the next day.