Xxxxxxxx

0400 hours. As usual Ziva's alarm went off, waking her from the most peaceful sleep she had managed to have in months. Wincing slightly as her cuts stung from the previous night, she rolled out of bed, making her way to the bathroom. After quickly peeing what remained in her bladder out, she quickly stripped and weighed herself just as she had the night before.

136.8

"You lazy cow, we are going to change this starting now!" screamed the voice in her head. She half-dressed herself and grabbed the box of tissues off the basin. After walking back into her room, she made small incisions to both her hands and arms. Nothing that would be suspicious to anyone, especially since she carried and a knife and dealt with armed suspects most days, but she needed something she could see. For at the time her body was too heavy to calm her, but the small incisions to her hands and arms reminded her that she just needed to pretend to be okay, and as long as she could see the cuts, then she could stay strong. She knew her logic was twisted, but she needed it to just get through the day.

Xxxxxxxx

Ziva arrived at the Navy yard at 0500 breathless but almost happy. She had decided to run to work from now on, figuring that the extra calories burned would at least speed up her weight loss, even if it was just a little. She made her way to her desk and pulled out her notepad. Scribbling down meal plans she decided on a maximum of 800 calories to start with. Less was better, more was not allowed. She would see how the weight loss progressed and then adjust her calories accordingly. She knew how to make 100 calories look like 500, so that she would not draw suspicion. She didn't want people nagging her. Not yet anyway.

But of course you do, you want people to care. But why would they? You don't deserve them. You are weak and stupid, nobody could love you. You are a horrible and disgusting person.

She was getting used to the voices that were always there, but sometimes, it was just all too much. Checking her watch and seeing that it was 0545 hours she quickly ran to the ladies room, her blade concealed in her hand.

Xxxxxxxx

Gibbs arrived in the bullpen at 0600, not a minute early or late as usual. He wasn't surprised to see Ziva already at her desk silently working. She appeared deep in thought, so he walked past and sat down at his desk, waiting to see how long it would take until he finally noticed her.

Ziva finished typing her plans into the computer. She always like to have a paper copy and an electronic copy just in case the paper copy got lost. People would say that it just made more sense to have an electronic copy and not bother about the paper copy, but she was a bit old fashioned in that way. Apart from cutting and losing weight, drawing up herself destructive plans was the only other thing that calmed her. She felt a twisted sense of enjoyment from doing them, and although she knew this was wrong. She could not stop.

After about 15 minutes of not being noticed Gibbs loudly cleared his throat with a "ahem". Ziva all but jumped out of her chair at the sound.

Shit I must have lost track of the time, I wonder how long he has been sitting there?

"Hello Gibbs, when did you come? I did not see you walk past my desk" she said flashing a smile.

"Well Ziva you seemed pretty into you work, what is it you were working on?" Gibbs asked

"Oh I was just finishing my report from the case yesterday" she replied, she knew Gibbs did not know that she had actually finished her report last night.

"Punctual as always, your report then please? Gibbs asked as he held out his hand.

Ziva picked it up off her desk and handed it to her boss. Instead of taking the report from her however he grabbed her wrist, examining the cuts on her hand. Ziva put on her Mossad face and pretended that she had no idea what he was looking at, and waited as patiently as she could for him to release her hand. When he did there was concern that was evident in both his face and his voice.

"Care to tell me why you have all the cuts on your hand David?" He stated and Ziva knew it was not a question but a statement. He was expecting an answer and she had better make it a good one.

"Oh I was cleaning my weapons last night, and I dropped my knife of the table. I automatically went to catch it but well, I must have been tired and missed" she said trying to shake any nervousness out of her voice, and praying that just this once he would let it go.

"I think you need to go see Ducky and get these dressed David" was the answer she received.

"Oh Gibbs I am fine, I really don't think that will be necessary" Ziva said hoping that he would just drop it. But Gibbs being Gibbs could not just let it go. One of his children was hurt, and he was going to make sure she wouldn't be hurt for longer than necessary.

"That wasn't a question David, it was an order, now go" Gibbs barked in a tone of voice that didn't leave room for argument.

Ziva turned on her heal, and walked to the elevator as calmly as possible. Inside she was seething but she knew she would have to go along with it for the moment. She couldn't risk being caught out now.

Stupid man, he should mind his own business. I am FINE and it's not like I asked him to care anyway. So he shouldn't.

Xxxxxxxx

As she made her way down to the elevator, she remembered something that had been said to her during therapy with her psychologist. Katrina had asked her "when are you going to change the way, you think about yourself?" to which she replied indignantly "well it's not that easy." Fighting the voices was hard, and self-destructing was so much easier. She had never been the one to take the easy road. Yet when it came to her illness giving into it seemed so much easier. She was still mulling this over in her head, when she walked into autopsy.

"Ah my dear, what has brought you down hear so early? Has Jethro got a case already?" asked the ME, who had only walked through the doors about 5 minutes earlier.

"Oh no Ducky, Gibbs just sent me down here, well because I was cleaning my weapons last night, and accidentally dropped my knife, and when I went to catch it, well it kind of got me, so Gibbs wanted me to ask you to dress the wounds" she explained once again praying that no questions would be asked.

Ducky took her hand in his and examined the small cuts on her hands. He didn't want to interrogate her on how she got the cuts, but he didn't really believe her story either. Nonetheless he smiled and said

"Let's get you cleaned up my dear" as he gathered up alcohol wipes and small Band-Aids apologising for the sting the alcohol wipes would bring. Neither agent nor ME said anything whilst the cuts were cleaned and dressed, however Ducky did have one request before sending her back up to the bullpen.

"Please can you take your jacket off my dear, I just want to make sure that the knife didn't get your arms as well" he said in his gentlest tone of voice possible.

Ziva said "of course" and proceeded to remove her jacket. There was a reason that she never cut her arms and wrists apart from the occasional single line. She knew that when people suspected you were a cutter, they always looked at the arms first. She couldn't help but smirk when he examined her arms and the declared she could go. Giving her the fatherly smile that he always did.

Well I got away with that, my secret is safe.

Little did she know that Ducky was already suspicious.

"Jethro its Ducky, it's about Ziva. I think we need to talk."