Authors Note: Italics are Ziva's thoughts unless stated otherwise. XXXXX are scene breaks.

xxxxxxx

Ziva smiled to herself as she ran down the few flights of stairs down to autopsy. She loved seeing Ducky, the man was like a grandfather to her, but tonight she had other reasons on her mind.

"Ducky I have something for you from Gibbs" Ziva said as she walked through the doors of autopsy, smiling her well-practiced smile.

"Well thankyou my dear, it's good to see you up and about, but my dear Ziva how are you?" came the older man's voice laced with concern.

"I am fine Ducky, thankyou for asking" Ziva said.

Must find a scalpel, where does he keep them, I need a scalpel.

"Do you need anything my dear?" Ducky asked, watching Ziva look at him expectantly

"Ah yes, Gibbs would please like the autopsy report" Ziva said with her sweetest smile

"Ah yes my dear, I was just finishing it, do you mind waiting a minute" the ME asked.

"Of course not Ducky, it will be my pleasure" Ziva said as she watched him walk over to his computer to finish typing his report.

As soon as his back was turned Ziva stealthily grabbed 2 medical scalpels off the autopsy table and stashed them in her pocket, praying that the ME would think his assistant James Palmer had carelessly misplaced them as he had done so many times before. She pretended to just be observing the deceased petty officer so as not to draw attention to what she had just done.

"Here you are my dear" Ducky's voice came floating into her thoughts and brought her back to reality. However this was not missed by the older man. He had come to regard Ziva as one of his children, especially since a mere six weeks ago he was convinced that he had lost her forever.

"Oh sorry Ducky, I was just thinking" came her reply.

Shit that's the second time this has happened today. Get a grip of yourself David.

"Anything I can help you with my dear?" Ducky asked in his most fatherly voice.

"Oh no thanks Ducky, I better be running this back up to Gibbs" she replied and started making her way out of autopsy nearly running into Jimmy Palmer who had been running evidence down to Abby.

Ducky watched the pair exchange apologies, and shaked his head with a smile. He loved this team, and wanted more than anything for them all to be happy. It seemed that Ziva's smile had fooled him also. He was content to think that his "granddaughter" was ok, she deserved happiness after all she had been through.

He turned back to the autopsy table, ready to close up petty officer Shields. He frowned as he took note of his medical equipment. He could have sworn there was more than one scalpel before.

"Mister Palmer, did you misplace the scalpels again? I'm thinking I might start using Gibbs's method of head slapping you, until you remember to stop losing our equipment" Ducky said with a mock angry face.

"My apologies Doctor, I really didn't mean to" Palmer said with his head hanging on the floor.

"It's ok son I know, its ok" Ducky said his smile returning to his face.

Jimmy sighed a sigh of relief. He had more respect for the ME than his own father. And he always loved when he called him son.

Xxxxxxxx

At 2300 hours the team all left to go home. Ziva was beyond exhausted after yet another long day. But there was more to do once she got home.

She nearly tripped walking through her front door of her house. It was then she realised her parcel had arrived. Quickly ripping open the package she stripped and set the scale down on the floor.

137 pounds.

Ugly, disgusting, fat cow, you are disgusting. You need to be a maximum of 90 pounds. You are disgusting, how could you be such a pig!

Ziva quickly dressed herself, but not before looking at her reflection in the mirror. She was hideous and she knew it. She needed to lose weight and fast, but first there was something else she needed to do.

She fumbled through her bag, until she found exactly what she was looking for. The scalpels she had stolen from autopsy were perfect for what she wanted to do.

She rolled up her pants and started to make identical lines on her upper thighs.

It had been a year since she had self-harmed last. Through an intensive Dialectical Behaviour Therapy group that she had attended about 18 months ago, she had managed to stop the self-harm behaviours. She had known in her heart however that it would only be a matter of time before she did it again. The problem being that like with any addiction, she knew that once she had started, she wouldn't be able to stop.

You deserve this. You deserve the pain.

Slowly she let the tears that she had been holding onto for so long escape.