I know nurses are not weak and are not just there to follow doctors orders, I just think Ziva can be quite…intimidating when she wants to be. Just want you to know that.
I am not sure I like this one so much.
XXXII. I Like Nonsense; It Wakes Up The Brain Cells.
"Is this working? Hey, McGoo, is this recording?" Tony waved his hands in front of the lens.
"Is the green light on?"
"Yeah."
"Then it's recording."
"Oh, right. Hey Ziva, are you bored yet?" He flashed his trademark grin. "You probably are, which is why we've decided to put a little bag of entertainment together." He was sat at his desk, staring straight into the camera lens. "Okay, so I know you were expecting to watch 'Kuch Kuch Hota Hai' when you put the disc in, but I promise you this will be much better. The rest of the disks are like this as well, just in case you were thinking of changing to another film, so it wouldn't make much difference." He shrugged. "So, I was thinking that you were probably missing hearing all of our voices and seeing all of us whilst you are in isolation, which I know you hate, but it is to get you better. It was my idea. This first one is just me, then on the others we can go and talk to the rest of team Gibbs. You know, it's odd, isn't it, how we refer to it as being team Gibbs, when Abby and Ducky and Palmer actually work for the rest of the agency as well, and the director is really Gibbs' boss, which means that if she's on our team it should really be called team Shepard. Or team Jenny. I think team Jenny sounds a bit better, don't you? So I was watching Kindergarten Cop last night, you know, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Pamela Reed and Penelope Ann Miller. Good film, you seen it? I tell you what, when they release you, we'll watch it…" Ziva smiled as he started going on about the film. She would never admit it out loud, but she really had missed hearing his voice. Tony spent fifteen minutes explaining the plot before a hand, most likely Gibbs', appeared on screen and hit the back of his head. "Ow! What was that for?"
"Ziva won't want to hear you drone on about a film that she probably doesn't care about." Gibbs' gruff voice barked at him.
"Right you are, boss. So, I guess you want to hear about the case, don't you? Well…" The video cut to Tony sat in a dark hole. "Okay, I'm sat under my desk 'cause the boss man turned the camcorder off when I started to talk about the case 'cause he said that you weren't allowed anything to stress you out and that most definitely included work. But I know that you are probably going out of your mind, and so I'm gonna tell you and you have to promise that if you think it is going to make you stressed out to hear about it then stop the recording and change to one of the other discs. Is that clear?" He paused and then continued. "Okay, so McGee found a whole load of money changing hands, but it wasn't being moved in big quantities or anything and it wasn't all going to the same account, or at least it wasn't at first, but all the accounts that the money was going into were then transferring the money into one big account, under the name of, you're not going to believe this, Alan Dodge. That sounded a lot less anti-climatic in my head. Maybe if he had a cooler name or something, something more dramatic… Anyway, the address listed for Alan Dodge was actually a PO box, so McGee and Cassie are staking it out. Oh, did I say that Cassie, remember Cassie Yates right, well she's here temporarily whilst you're out of action. Don't worry, she's not using your desk, I wouldn't let her – she's at the desk behind the McGook, the one that you were at first. So anyway, McStakeout and Cassie are staking out the PO box to see if anyone will turn up, though I highly doubt it. Oh, and Gibbs interviewed the two FBI agents who were drugged and apparently they ordered pizza and someone must have slipped it in there. Agent 666 is following that lead which means that he's keeping out of our way. I don't think the boss likes him – which I guess is understandable considering he did send me to jail when I was framed and he did set every government agency after you when you went on the run…" Ziva yawned as he continued talking about the case, going off on tangents as he didn't really add any knew information. She let herself drift in and out of sleep, Tony's voice blurring out of focus and creating a wordless lullaby.
The heavy thud of Abby's loud music leapt through the speakers as Ziva hit play on the next disk. "Miss Sciuto, the camera is rolling, what do you have to say to my dearest darling Ziva?"
"Hiiiiii!" Abby ran over and squealed, her face large on the big screen. "Ooooh, so I had a major brainwave earlier when I was signing to Gibbs because Sacks was down here and I really don't like the man. So anyway, I remembered that infants can learn to sign faster than they can learn to speak and so me and Gibbs could teach you sign language so that you can communicate with the babies before they can talk!" She grinned and bounced around. "How useful would that be? Then you won't have any of the problems with not knowing what's wrong, will you. It will make your life so much simpler." She started adding actions to her words.
"You know, I don't think that would be too bad a idea, actually Abby." Tony said and turned so both of them were in shot of the camera. "We should think about that, 'cause it would be really helpful and it will also mean that I would be able to know what Abby and Gibbs are saying when they're talking about me."
"I'll start teaching you as soon as they release you!" Abby grinned. "It's gonna be so much fun."
A knock sounded on the hospital room door and Ziva muted the film. The doctor walked through and looked up at the screen and to the stack of DVD cases on the player. "Did you put the last one in on your own?"
"No." She lied, her momentary happiness quashed immediately.
"Ziva, I told you that you had to stay in bed." He sighed. She was just too stubborn for her own good. "How would you feel if something happened to your babies because you weren't following my orders?"
Tears sparkled in her eyes. "How dare you insinuate that I do not care for them? I love them and I would never hurt them!" Her voice was venomous as she recoiled slightly, bringing her knees up to her chest in the bed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I just meant that you need to be more careful." He sighed, wishing he could convince the nurses and orderlies that officer David was really not going to kill them if she didn't like what they were saying, but he was honestly unsure if he believed it himself. "I brought you some crackers and rice to try and eat." He held out the tray. She eyed it suspiciously, but seeing as she could not smell the food and was unsurprisingly hungry she did not protest.
Too much.
The doctor watched her eat, taking each mouthful slowly and frequently having to stop. It was progress. She managed to keep the plain, unappetising food down. Crackers were on the safe list now. "Ziva, I want you to talk to somebody about your troubles sleeping. Actually talk to someone. I've found a new psychologist."
"I do not have trouble sleeping." She replied almost on instinct. He sighed and rubbed his face, tired. He was supposed to have finished his shift an hour ago, but he had stayed to try and help the woman in front of him.
"Okay, but I still want you to talk to someone."
"I will as soon as you let me out of here."
"No. Not the way it works." He shook his head and looked at her sympathetically. She could see real emotion in his eyes, not just the fake stuff she'd seen professionals put on to make it look like they care.
"Do you have trouble sleeping, doctor?"
"Sometimes." He smiled softly. "It helps to talk about the nightmares, you know. They don't get better, but it feels like you're not carrying the weight of them around with you so much." He placed his hand on her head gently, in a similar way to the way that Gibbs so often did when she wasn't feeling herself and left. The doctor resembled Gibbs in other ways too. There was the obvious silver hair and the stern expression, but also the caring look in his eyes. The way he carried himself. She glared as a woman walked in and smiled at her.
"I'm Dr Sinclair, but you can call me Helen." She smiled and sat down. "How are you feeling?" Ziva maintained a silence worthy of applause – where the applause not to ruin the silence. "I understand you've been having a touch of morning sickness?"
No, I find sitting in a hospital bed unable to eat fun. Ziva muttered internally, externally keeping as quiet as a doornail – no, that was dead as a doornail… Dormouse? Quiet as a dormouse? No church mice. Quiet as church mice was the expression she was looking for.
"Your doctor also says that you've been having some trouble sleeping. He said you've been waking up screaming."
I scream because I love seeing the mental images of my friends' dead bodies. The sarcasm of her thoughts increased a notch.
"Miss David…"
"Dah-veed." She corrected, verbally this time. "I would have thought you would have done your research before you came to talk to me."
"I did. I even wrote it down, look…" She held out a clipboard for Ziva to see. "I just forgot. We all slip up sometimes."
Not me.
"Even you. But you're not here because you've done something wrong. You're here because you are unwell."
Am not.
The psychologist sighed at the heavy absence of noise. "I'm not leaving here until you tell me about one nightmare. That's all I want, one nightmare."
Get comfortable then, because you will be waiting a long time.
"Ok. Let's talk about your team. Your boss is Director Jenny Shepard."
"No, my boss is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs." She hadn't meant to say anything aloud, but it had slipped out before she could stop it.
"Alright, and your teammates are Agents McGee and DiNozzo." Ziva nodded cautiously, uncertain where the line of questioning was headed. "Do you get on well with them?"
"Again with the homework." She muttered.
"Ah, yes, your relationship with Anthony DiNozzo. I was going to come onto that, but I wanted to know how you got on with them as partners."
"They are my family. I would do anything for them."
"But your father is the director of Mossad, an organisation who has loaned you to NCIS, if you shall excuse my callousness."
"My father has no part of this."
"It must be hard."
"No, my father does not care for me. He is ashamed."
"It is my belief that he visited recently, yes?"
"He was outwardly caring, but I could feel how ashamed he was. Deep down."
"Does he feature in your nightmares?"
"No." She shut that line of inquiry down.
"Okay. How about we talk about Agent DiNozzo. You're getting married. Have you set a date?"
"Not yet."
"I understand he was doing a lot of undercover work last year, even had to forge a long-term relationship with a suspects daughter, a miss Jeanne Benoit?"
"Yes, although I do not know what this has to do with anything."
"You were close before he took that mission, were you not?"
"We had grown closer, yes."
"And all of a sudden he was seeing another woman and you were pushed aside. How did that make you feel?"
"It did not. She was just a mission."
"In hindsight you may tell yourself that, but during that period of time, had I asked you and you responded truthfully, what would you say?"
"I would not." She played with the bed sheets, trying to ignore the woman across from her.
"How did that mission end, might I ask."
"This is classified information. I cannot divulge this information."
"You can talk about Tony's car."
"What about it?" Ziva feigned ignorance, trying to escape the question.
"You watched someone blow it up, believing that he was inside. You watched as one of your closest friends, the man who goes on to father your children, was blown up. You couldn't stand to watch as your colleague replayed the footage."
"Who told you that?"
"Agent McGee. Is that what you dream about? Tony not coming home?"
"I dream about the explosion. I dream about none of what I have being real – just being a fantasy I created to cope with the absence."
"The absence of Tony?"
"Yes." She had been compelled to talk, she couldn't stop herself. It wasn't that it made anything feel better. She didn't really know why she was talking.
"But he's alive. And he loves you."
"I know. And I do not deserve his love." Her voice was solemn.
"I don't know about that, Ziva. I think you do. You've saved so many people. I was talking to your boss earlier, Director Sheppard, and she was saying that you helped two little girls recently."
"Elsie and Mina."
"Apparently they want to see you. And Tony wants to see you. And so do Abby and Doctor Mallard and Agent McGee. They all want to see you get better." Ziva looked at the clock at the bedside and frowned – they had been talking for two hours. She yawned. "You need to sleep." Helen smiled softly. "I want you to talk to someone whenever you have a nightmare. No matter what time it is, there will always be somebody who cares, whether it is Tony, or Agent Gibbs or even me." She handed a business card over. "All of my numbers are on the back. Call me if you need to, at any time."
"You alright?" The junior doctor sat down across the table from his mentor and smiled.
"Yeah, I guess. Just tired." He looked up from the folder in front of him.
"Your shift ended three hours ago."
"I know. I was staying for a patient." The older doctor stretched before taking a bite of his apple and returning to the paperwork.
"Good plot?"
"Hm?" He looked up again at the younger man. He was wearing scrubs and looked so young, too young to be a doctor. It made him feel old. Worn out. He was thinking about retiring. Maybe he could. Just as soon as he got Miss David back home and healthy. "Oh, medical records." He shrugged.
"Whose?"
"The patient I'm staying for."
"She hot?"
"Who says they're a she?" He laughed.
"Because you look tired and I wouldn't stay three hours past the end of my shift for anyone but the most beautiful of women." The sandy haired man joked.
"She is…" His old mind tried to think of the appropriate way of phrasing his statement. "Not unattractive. She is also pregnant and engaged." He laughed again at his mentee's reaction. "She's been through a lot. For some reason I can sympathise."
"Ah, she's having nightmares. Am I right?"
"Patient confidentiality."
"I'll take that as a yes then." He grinned. "You imparted your great wisdom on the matter to her?"
"I've tried. She's listening to the psychologist now."
"Talking."
"What?"
"You said she was listening to the psychologist. You're supposed to talk to them."
"I doubt she'll talk. She's been trained to keep her mouth shut." He smiled slightly.
"You waiting for her to finish?"
"Yeah." He nodded just as the green clad junior doctor's pager beeped and he groaned.
"Sometimes I really hate this job." He groaned and stood up.
"Me too. But it's all worth it in the end."
