A/N: This chapter contains mentions of anxiety. Look after yourselves dear readers.
Ziva turned the key in the ignition and felt the car engine stop.
It was so quiet now. Too quiet.
Just her and her thoughts.
The clock in the dashboard blinked back at her, revealing that it was lunchtime. Guilt rose through Ziva. It tasted bitter in her mouth.
She rested her arms on the steering wheel, and let out a deep breath. Her eyes burnt from the tears earlier in the day.
She looked a mess.
You have made a mess Ziva, you need to clean it up.
She took another breath, and looked toward the kitchen window, she saw Tony's hand twitching behind the curtain they had hung the other day. They were still trying to make this little house a home.
A fresh wave of guilt rushed over her.
He must have been so worried. She had caused him to much worry. So much pain.
Perhaps too much.
You have made such a mess, Ziva.
She looked up toward the upper window, where Tali's bedroom was, and saw that it was empty.
She hoped Tali had been spared. Protected.
Everything Ziva had ever done, had been to protect Tali.
Tali was getting older now, she would notice that her mother was not like the other mothers. That her mother was full of panic and fear.
A knock on the car window startled her.
Tony stood in front of the window holding her stainless steel water bottle, and a smile plastered on his face. The smile was fake.
She nodded at him, and he opened the door carefully.
"Hi," she said softly, as he took his place in the passenger seat.
"Hi," he said, as he thrust the stainless steel bottle into her hands. It was her water bottle, the light blue one with 'Ziva' engraved on the front. Tony had an orange one with his name on the side, and Tali had a slightly smaller pink one with her name in a cursive font. They were a family with annoyingly monogrammed water bottles. "It's hot out today."
He cared. Even after everything she had done, he cared.
What had she done to deserve someone so kind?
She unscrewed the bottle, and took a sip from the water bottle. The water was so cold, it made her teeth ache.
Tony reached for her running jumper, one made of recycled plastic bottles that made its wearer feel like they were saving the world.
If only it was that easy.
"You must be sweltering in that," he said in the same voice that he used with Tali, when she decided she was going to wear a thick winter jumper in the height of summer.
She put the water bottle in the cup holder, and started to tug the jumper, revealing a running tank top made from scratchy polyester. She threw the zip-up top behind her, and it landed on Tali's booster seat. The booster seat she was getting too big for.
She had been so cold earlier, a side effect of the panic.
"Where is Tali?" she asked, her voice sounded distant.
He reached into the cup holder, and took the water bottle from it, he unscrewed the bottle and took a sip.
"With Dad," he said, as he held the bottle under his chin. Water dribbled down his chin. "They've gone on a Tali and Pop-Pop adventure, I think they are going to be town square."
Ziva's eyes flitted around the car, the only car they had, when she had told Tony she was going out, she had left him almost stranded.
If something had happened to Tali, he would have had no way of getting Tali to the hospital.
Guilt washed back over her. She was such a terrible mother.
She had thought of no one but herself.
"She loves the splash pad," he continued. "And, there's plenty of places for Dad to sit.I made sure she's got her hat."
Senior was so much older now. Probably too old to be looking after a seven year old for hours on end.
"I should not have taken the car," Ziva said.
Tony shook his head.
"It's okay," he said, as he shoved the water bottle into the cup holder. "You know how much she likes riding the metro."
Tali hated the car. If she was stuck in the car for too long she often got sick, and in the car there were no other people to watch.
Ziva pressed her hands into her thighs, feeling the pressure in her palm, trying to break the waves of the panic.
How could she have been so selfish?
"Does Tali-," Ziva started, but felt the words get stuck in her throat. "Does she think something is wrong?"
Tony swallowed thickly.
"She said something to Dad about getting some flowers for you," he said, keeping his eyes focused on the dashboard. "To cheer you up."
She felt the prickles of the panic in her back.
"But, she wants to get you flowers all the time," Tony said. "So, it might just be that."
Tali was always presenting her parents with little gifts. She liked to bring flowers for Ziva, and anything food related for Tony.
Ziva reached up to her necklace and played with the pendant. She remembered the tiny hands that had thrust the necklace into Ziva's hands.
For you Ima.
Ziva sucked in a breath, trying to calm herself down.
"I owe you an explanation," Ziva said.
He looked down at his lap.
"You don't owe me anything," he said, "I'm just glad you came back."
She knew a tiny part of him was expecting her to just disappear one day. He kept that part buried, but it was there.
Maybe, that was why the two of them found themselves in almost constant contact when they were apart.
"I was always going to come back," she said softly.
He winced.
"I know," he said, as he reached for her hand, and squeezed it. "That was a bad choice of words."
Ziva nodded.
"I just needed a time out," she said. "Just a moment."
She needed to get away from the scene of the crime. Away from the bedroom where she had kept them both up too late, with nightmares.
She had not intended to be gone for over six hours.
"I get that," he said.
She was a cat who had been spooked and scampered away.
"I did not intend to be gone for so long," Ziva said softly. "Or to make you worry."
She caught his eyes through the rear view mirror. Hurt passed through him. He looked away, and toward the house.
"I am sorry," she said, her voice cracking.
"Ssh," he said softly. "No more of that."
"I know you were worried," Ziva said. "I know my actions have an impact on other peoples, especially you."
Tony chewed the inside of his cheek.
"I'm not gonna pretend I wasn't worried," he said softly. "And, the stress of that worry may have led to me emptying athe dishwasher and doing all the laundry."
Ziva let out a half laugh.
Tony was a doer, he needed to fix what was broken. When he still had a badge, he could channel his worry into his job, to chasing down leads, and long nights in the squad room.
Now he could only channel his worry into chores.
He had gotten so good at laundry during the two lockdowns the previous year.
"Honestly," he said, as he pressed the button to open the window just a little. The air in the car was getting thick. "I was a little hurt."
"Hurt?" Ziva echoed.
That was unexpected.
"I know it's not the best reaction to have," he said, his voice cracking, "But, yeah I was a little hurt. After you had the anxiety attack last night I tried to comfort you and make you feel safe again, and then you just went downstairs. I tried to stay awake for you, but you never came back to bed. Then when you did come back it was at the crack of dawn, and it was to tell me you were going for a run."
Ziva felt tears prick at her eyes.
She had made such a mess.
"I know your brain was probably telling you that you did not deserve to be comforted, and that you need to be alone," Tony continued, "But, it made me feel like I couldn't do anything to help you."
Sleep had been futile that night. Ziva had tossed and turned trying to settle. Then when sleep finally came, it did not bring peace.
Sahar stood above her cackling.
You will amount to nothing.
You are a burden on your family.
They all hate you. You left them.
It had taken far too long to wake up, but as Ziva did wake, she felt that familiar tightness in her chest, and tingling in her hands.
Ziva had tried to catch her breath, but before she could she heard a shriek in the room. A shriek that was coming from deep inside her.
The shrieking had woken Tony.
It's okay, he had murmured, as he tried to pull her close, but she had pushed him away. He kept talking, despite her rejection.
Tali's right down the hall.
We're all safe.
It's over, Ziva. I promise you it's over.
We are okay.
Her breathing had eventually calmed, but Ziva had known that there was no way she would be going back to sleep.
I am okay, she had said eventually, I love you, go back to sleep.
He had turned over in bed, and Ziva had slipped out of the room.
She crept down the stairs, and into the room that they were calling the den, it was a porch that had been turned into a sunroom years ago, and was housing the piano and some bookshelves. In all the house it was Ziva's favourite room, especially in the daylight hours when the sun came in through the windows.
As tea cooled next to the piano, Ziva had tried to unscramble her mind.
She watched the sun rise from the big windows, and tried to keep the anxiety at bay, but just as she thought she was calm, it would resurface.
You are a burden on your family.
Eventually, she decided the only way to try and shed this panic was to go for a run.
"I am sorry," she said. "I just knew I was not going to go back to sleep, and I did not want to keep you up. And, then this morning, I still felt out of sorts, and I thought a run would help."
Getting outside for exercise was part of her mental health first aid kit. Something that made her feel in control. Something that kept the panic at bay.
She had run until her chest ached and her legs were jelly, and still the panic lingered.
"Did it?" he asked.
Running was supposed to help complete the cortisol cycle. It was supposed to help.
As she held onto the trunk of a tree at Rock Creek park and wheezed, she realised she needed more.
"A little," she replied. "Less than I thought it would."
She was still so raw.
"From the outside," he started, "It seemed like it was a pretty bad one."
Ziva pressed her teeth into her lower lip.
"It was," Ziva said. "I have not had one like that in a while."
He squeezed her hand again.
"They used to be like that when we were apart," Ziva said.
Back then things had been so badly managed. She was taking smuggled pills, and never consistently.
Back then there was a threat keeping her from her family.
"Is that why you wanted to hide?" he asked, before shaking his head. "I mean is that why you needed to get out, afterwards?"
He saw right through her. He always had.
"I think that was part of it," Ziva said.
"Do you have any idea what caused it?" he asked.
August was often a month where Ziva found herself with broken sleep. In August Saleem Ulman had been at his worst.
In August almost all of her dreams were haunted.
"I think this one has been brewing for a while," she admitted.
She had felt herself slipping in the last few days. Sleep had been hard to come by, and she often felt herself zoning out, when Tony or Tali were talking.
Then came the intrusive thoughts that echoed in her head.
You do not deserve them.
You are a waste of space.
"I wondered," he said softly. "You've not really been yourself lately."
She had thought she had been better at hiding it.
How silly it was to think she could hide this from her.
"And, the other day at dinner," he continued. "When you asked me if I knew how much you appreciated me. I wondered if something was up then."
The tears that had been trying to fall, broke their dam, and fell down Ziva's face.
"I am so sorry," she said again.
He pulled his hand out from hers, and then used his arm to pull her close. It was an awkward hug in the car.
"It's okay," he whispered.
"I thought I was getting better," she said, "I have been working so hard to get better. I need to be the best mother to Tali and partner to you."
"You don't need to be the best," he said. "We just need you here, however you are. We can't do this without you."
She had caused so much pain. She had to make it better.
"We love you," he said.
Ziva used her hand to wipe her tears.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked. "To help you."
He was a doer. He needed to fix things. He had once tried to fix the world.
"Do you want to postpone the wedding?" he asked.
"No," Ziva said. "Tali would never forgive us."
She wanted to marry him. She wanted to call him her husband. She wanted to see Tali and all their friends to clap when the rabbi finally declared them husband and wife.
"I want it to be a happy day," he said. "For all of us."
And, it would be. Tali would twirl in her new dress. All of their favourite people would celebrate with them. Ziva and Tony would kiss under the chuppah.
"It will be," Ziva assured him.
She did not want the panic to poison the day. They had fought so hard to get this far.
Tony nodded.
"Do we need to move back to Paris?" he asked. "It wasn't like this in Paris."
Ziva felt a pang in her heart.
He wanted to fix this. He was trying to fix this. He would do anything to fix this.
He was fighting for her. He had always been fighting for her.
"No," Ziva said, "We do not have to move, I would not disrupt your lives like that."
She had disrupted them too much already.
Tony opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"I think this anxiety attack might have happened if we still lived in Paris," she declared.
He raised an eyebrow.
There was so much he did not know. Even though their apartment had been a third of the space as the house, it had been easier to slip out for a few moments.
Sometimes it was taking extra long to take the rubbish out. Sometimes it was going to the storage crate in the cellar to find something that was in the back wardrobe. Sometimes it was taking a few extra minutes to come back from her run, and sitting in the car.
All she had needed was a few minutes to compose herself. To breathe deep.
"So much of last year felt like time was suspended," Ziva said softly. "And, now we are coming back down to earth."
The lockdowns had been hard at the time, but Ziva had seen the silver lining, the three of them had gotten to spend a lot of time together. Ziva and Tali had found new traditions to share. Tony and Ziva had worked through the past, and started to talk about the future.
She knew that for other families the lockdowns had been a hardship, and the pandemic still impacted their lives, but in their tiny little Parisian apartment things had been quite lovely.
"I think it felt like that for a lot of people," he said.
It had been hard to be inside for so long, but Ziva would remember the lazy days fondly. She and Tali had tried so many new recipes, and the three of them had spent many afternoons curled up on the couch.
"Exactly," she said. "And, now it feels like everything is real. Especially being back here, I have to face consequences of my actions, and people who I have hurt."
Tony frowned.
"So being back here is hard?" he asked.
The others might have forgiven her, but there was still so much to discuss. She had missed over half a decade of her favourite people's lives.
"A little, but I need to do this, I need to work out what my relationship is with people I once considered family," she said. "It is about the future I want."
Tony's eyes flitted around the car.
"Do you want me to cancel Gibbs on Saturday?" he asked.
Gibbs was coming over with the dining table he had built for them. The plan was for him to stay for dinner, and for the adults to try to find some common ground now that Gibbs was the only one with a badge.
"No," Ziva said. "I know I am having a bad day today, but I think I will be better soon."
She would not allow herself to dwell on this.
She would not allow her panic to poison her family.
"Do you wanna hold off on getting the dog?" he asked.
They had told Tali about their plan to get a dog, and she had run through the house shrieking with excitement. The plan was to visit the local animal shelter that very weekend.
"No," she said firmly. "Tali would never forgive us."
She had asked Tali to forgive too much.
"I just don't wanna add extra stress," he replied.
"I know," she said softly, catching his eye in the rearview mirror. "But, I think a dog will be good for us."
A dog would even out their family. Tali would have her confidant. Ziva would have someone to keep her company when Tali started school and Tony started at his new job.
"What can I do?" he asked desperately. "I wanna help you."
"You do help me," Ziva said. "You are there for me. You make sure Tali feels safe even when I am not at my best. You do so much for me. For us."
"You're a good Mom," he said softly. "You know that right?"
Mom, sounded so foriegn, so American. Tali sometimes referred to Ziva as her Mom, and it sometimes felt like she was talking about someone else.
She was not, but she appreciated him trying to tell her so.
"I try," she said.
Maybe one day she would be the mother that Tali deserved.
"And a great partner," he said. "I can't wait to call you my wife."
Ziva smiled at him. A soft smile. She wanted to believe him so badly.
"You can talk to me about it if you want," he said carefully, "I promise to just listen."
"Most of my anxiety at the moment," Ziva said as she looked down at her lap. "Is about the future, and what my future will look like."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well," Ziva said. "I know my future involves you two, but not much else. Tali is starting her new school, and you are going to start your new job, and I am just going to be in the house waiting for you to come home."
Tony gulped.
She had thought, when they were organising the move that she would have gotten pregnant by now. That she could have used all this time to prepare for a whole other person. A person she could lose herself in.
A blank slate, that would only get the best of her.
Now, they were not so sure if another child would even happen. Ziva had made peace with that fact that would never see Tony hold his infant child, and that she would never give Tali a sibling.
"I really hope that you don't spend all day staring at a wall waiting to pick up Tali," he said.
Tali would be starting at the local Jewish day school in a little over a week, and Tony was starting at his new job the Tuesday after labor day.
In Paris, and with the stay-at-home orders, sometimes it had been so hard to get just ten minutes of alone time, and now she was facing hours of it.
"I will not," Ziva said. "But, you get my point."
For six hours a day, her days would be nothing but her own, and that scared her. She had never had so much time to herself. Not since she had come back to them.
"Kinda," he said. "I thought you were looking into the community college."
She knew the webpage for the community college inside and out. She knew the requirements and about the upcoming open day. She had read the testimonials of students who had started at the college, while juggling multiple children, or rebuilding their lives after years lost to addiction, and had gone onto graduate from four-year colleges and onto great careers.
The problem was that Ziva could not see herself there.
"I was, I am," Ziva said, "But, I am wondering what would actually come of it. I am so close to forty, if I started at the community college next spring and eventually transfer to a university, I would probably take four or five years to graduate. I would be in my mid-forties, and be in the same position as a twenty-two year old. Who would hire me?"
She had been so young when her father placed a gun in her hands. Now, she was older than she ever expected it to be.
And, except for Tony and Tali, she had so little to show for it.
"You wouldn't be exactly like a twenty-two year old," he said softly. "Your life experience would count for a lot."
She had always wanted to help people, but she had hurt so many people instead.
"All of my experience is in law enforcement or things I would prefer not to disclose in an interview," Ziva said. "What skills would I have to offer?"
What good could she do?
"Yeah," he said, "You've got a lot of really specific skills, and you're probably right that your knife throwing skills won't be needed, but you've got a lot of other skills, transferable and soft skills."
"Are you using words from your new job?" she asked.
There were self-help books about career transitions on his nightstand.
"Exactly," he said. "Look at that new job I got. I have never worked anything close to that. On my resume they could see I had been out of work for five years, and that all of my previous experience was in law enforcement. My new boss could also see that I graduated college in a year they barely remember, and I still got the job. They know they are taking a chance on me, but I've always been the wildcard."
"But," Ziva started, "You at least have your college degree that would have counted for something."
"Honestly," he said softly, "I barely remember college, and my GPA was only good enough to keep playing ball. I know you, you'll have an impressive GPA. You have an amazing work ethic. Do you remember how hard you worked to become an American citizen?"
She could have just memorised the answers to the questions, but Ziva wanted to understand what all those answers meant. For over six months she had read every book about American history and the declaration of independence. In part it had been a distraction from the thoughts that still haunted her months after they had pulled her out of Saleem's dusty cell.
A tear fell down Ziva's face.
He was tearing her argument to shreds.
He believed in her.
"You know there a lot of ways to go about things," he said. "You don't have to go to college, if you don't want too."
"I have no idea what I even want to do, but I do want to go to college," she admitted. "I have just always wanted to go college. The way you and Tim used to about college, I want that. I know it would be different, but I want that."
She wanted to learn new things. She wanted a diploma on her wall.
"I am sure once you start, you'll find something you really want to do," he said. "You have so much to offer any organisation."
Ziva frowned.
How could he make it sound so easy?
"I do not have that much to offer," she said.
Tony shook his head.
"You speak like ten languages," he said softly, "Not a lot of people can do that. You have this amazing sense of justice, even though you don't have a badge anymore, you could still use that. You'll find something that gets your back up, and will fight for what you believe in. I know you, you'll fight for people who need your help."
Ziva felt another tear slip down her face.
"Sometimes I wish that you saw yourself in the same way that other people do," he said. "I know people never see themselves how others see them."
"You are good at this," she said softly.
"What?" he asked.
"Pep talks," Ziva said, "When Tali is older you will be the one to talk her down. It will probably come in handy with your job too."
"I hope so," he said. "You know, I'm freaking out a bit. It's a big change. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks."
"You will be amazing," Ziva said.
She believed in him. He would do good.
"And so will you, when you find what you wanna do," Tony said. "I dated this girl in college for a hot minute who was always doing internships to work out what she wanted to do. She graduated with a degree in English Lit, did a bunch of things, and now works for a non-profit in New York that helps foster kids who are aging out of the system. She does a lot of good in the world."
Ziva flinched at the mention of a previous girlfriend. Even if the relationship had only lasted a hot minute.
"I found her on LinkedIn when I was soul searching in the career front, she's done so much," Tony said. "You'll stumble into something and fall in love. You might not know what it is yet, but that's kinda exciting, isn't it?"
She wanted to bottle his optimism, and drink it in.
"It is," Ziva said, hoping that if she started to say it, she would believe it. "And, in the meantime I am going to focus on my mental health."
Tony nodded.
"So no more sharing wine when munchkin has gone to bed?" he asked.
Alcohol did not mix well with her meds. She would miss their cuddles on the couch with a bottle of wine. They would still have the cuddles, but with tea steaming on the coffee table.
"Yes," Ziva said. "At least not for me, and I am going to do all the things that make me feel better. I have kind of let those things slide."
She was going to go for a run every day, or at least get outside.
"Like that second lockdown?" he asked.
The second lockdown in Paris had been harder than the first, mostly because it was in the winter, and they felt so far away from their families.
When the dark mood clung to her, Ziva had started to try and fight it. She went outside as often as she could, and made sure she cooked healthy food for her family. Cheesy pasta was good, but not every day.
Being locked down for the holidays, especially after she had missed so many, had been so hard.
"Yes," she said. "And, I am going back to therapy."
She needed to be the best person she could be, for her partner, for her daughter, and for herself.
Especially for herself.
"Wow," he said.
She had been so certain, when they left Paris, that she was done with therapy. She had learnt her skills. She had talked out as much of the trauma as she ever would.
"I think there are still some things I need to work on," Ziva said. "So I can be the best person I can be."
"Okay," he said. "Have you found one?"
"I have been thinking about this for a while," Ziva said, "I had a list, and after my run today, I called one and I have an appointment tomorrow."
The list had been on her phone for weeks now, and her therapist in Paris had made some recommendations when Ziva's had announced the move.
"I'm proud of you," he whispered. "I know that would have been hard."
"It was," Ziva said, "But, I needed to do it. I am going to also talk about my medication. I wonder if I need to change the dose. A part of me thought that one day I would be able to stop the medication, but maybe not. Maybe, the medication will be a long-term thing."
Tony reached for her hand. He squeezed it tight.
"Nobody thinks any less of you because of the meds," he said. "It's just like Dad with his heart medication."
Ziva did not think it was the same, but was not going to fight it.
"I know," she said. "It is just something I need to make peace with. I will make peace with it."
"Is there anything you need me to do?" he asked, "To help."
He needed to fix things. He was a fixer.
"Actually," she said softly. "I would like to go to the beach for the weekend, all three of us."
She wanted to take Tali to the beach, and to hold her hand as the sea crashed over them.
She wanted to smell the salt of the Atlantic Ocean on Tali as they cuddled up after dinner.
As a child, the ocean had been her happy place. Maybe, if she could capture just a tiny bit of that joy, she could hold onto it, as the weather started to cool.
"I know it is late in the season," Ziva said. "Maybe, we could just do a daytrip. I just would like to go to the ocean."
If they left early, and ate dinner on the way home, they could still spend the majority of that day at the beach. That would be enough.
Tony shook his head.
"Leave it with me," he said. "We'll have our beach weekend."
"Maybe, we could do it during the week," Ziva said, "We might have more luck finding somewhere to stay."
He leaned over and lightly placed his finger on her lips.
"Leave it with me," he said.
"Thank you," she said.
"Is there anything else you need me to do?" he asked.
"No," Ziva said. "You do so much."
He made her feel safe. He let her lash out. He loved her despite all of the darkness she kept bringing up from inside of her.
"Can we go inside?" he asked. "It's a sweat box in here."
Ziva nodded. She wanted to leave these bad thoughts behind.
Tony's stomach rumbled.
"Have you eaten yet?" She asked.
"I may have stress ate all the snacks in the house," he said, with his trademark DiNozzo grin. "But, I can eat."
She opened the door of the car, and put her feet on the ground of her driveway.
Her driveway. Her house. Her partner. Her child.
Two years ago Ziva could never have imagined this simple little life.
"We are going to be okay," she said, mostly to herself.
"We're gonna be better than okay," Tony said.
Ziva's pressed the fob on and the car beeped,
Then she heard her favourite sound. Her daughter's voice.
"Yeah, Daddy said we can get a dog," Tali said, her voice getting louder as she moved closer. "I want to name her Lucy, but Dad says the dog might be a boy, and Lucy is a girl's name. I can't think of a boy's name. So the dog needs to be a girl."
Like her father, Tali's mouth could run a mile a minute.
Ziva put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun, and saw Tali skipping down the street with Senior shuffling behind her, and carrying bright yellow sun flowers.
Ziva loved sunflowers. They were so bright.
"Ima's home," Tali said, turning her skip into a run. Her sun hat fell off as she ran. Tony moved to pick it up.
Senior and Junior shared a nod, and a few raised eyebrows. All would be explained when Tony escorted Senior back home after lunch.
Tali's run got faster, and she bumped Ziva as they met in the driveway. Ziva buried her nose in Tali's hair.
I will be my best for you, she promised Tali, as she took in her sweet scent.
"We got you flowers," Tali said. "To make you smile. Do they make you smile?"
Senior waved the flowers, and gave Ziva his own version of the DiNozzo grin under his panama hat.
"They do," Ziva said softly, as she pulled back from the hug, and studied Tali. Her daughter. Her love. Her light. "Just like you do."
Tali placed her hand in Ziva's and they made their way into the house, with Tony trailing behind.
A/N:
I don't own a thing.
I didn't plan on releasing this chapter a couple of days after Christmas, but this year has been a hell of a ride and lots of plans have been thrown out of whack. For those of you who are celebrating something at the time of year I'm sending you well wishes and joy.
The next chapter will feature a new addition to the family and should be up in a few days. I have the week between Christmas and New Year's off, which gives me lots of writing time.
Thank you so much for all the kind words, reviews and tweets. Thank you so much for being so patient with the updates.