Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its characters. This story is entirely fictional and is based on my own experiences. Reviews and/or comments would be greatly appreciated as I am loving this story and it is a pleasure to write. Enjoy.

Xxxxxxxx

Gibbs walked down into his basement, sighing in relief as he picked up his tools so he could start working on his boat. He always found the repetitive motion of sanding the boat down relaxing, and today he needed that more than anything.

He was still trying to come to terms with Ziva's illness. He couldn't believe she was sick, it was just well it was Ziva. The strong, intelligent woman, who always was willing to help anyone, and who always had a smile on her face.

But then again, even her smile seems off lately. How did I not see this coming?

Gibbs thought to himself. He prided himself on always knowing what was going on with his team, and yet he seemed to have missed something so obvious. One of his team was desperately ill, and for the first time he was powerless to stop it. He wanted more than anything to put a stop to it, to hold Ziva tight and tell her that what she was doing to herself was not ok, and it had to stop RIGHT NOW. Bu he knew he couldn't and Duckies voice rang through his ears.

"Don't try and control her Jethro" he had said "I know you want to hold her, and make it all go away. But you can't do this for her. The more controlling you try to be, the more she's going to fight back. She will come to you when and only when, she is ready."

He put his sanding tools down, whilst making his way back upstairs for some much needed sleep.

As he turned the light of in the basement, all he could think of was:

Ziva please let me help you, I will do anything to make the pain go away.

Xxxxxxxx

Ziva returned to her apartment after her session with Katrina. She always felt lighter after seeing her, as if a bit of the emotional weight she was carrying around was lifted. However the one emotion she couldn't shake off after these sessions was guilt. She always felt as if she had wasted Katrina's time, there were others out there that needed the help so badly and were unable to access it, and yet here she was. She knew logically that this wasn't true and that she needed the help just as much as anyone else, but it seemed as if the logical side of her brain wasn't functioning very well at the moment.

Her grumbling stomach brought her back to reality. It was then she realised that she hadn't had anything, except for green tea all day. She knew that she should really eat something, even if it was just something small, but instead walked into the bathroom and after stripping stood on the scales.

133

She stared at the number for a moment, before jumping off and quickly re-dressing. She was a pound down from this morning, and this slightly lifted her mood. It was still too much but it was something, and she knew if she went to bed now, thus avoiding food she would be even less in the morning.

Xxxxxxxx

The next morning Ziva walked into the bullpen at exactly 0500 hours. She had decided last night that she would continue to keep a calm and slightly cheery façade in front of everyone in the hopes that the team would just leave her alone. She was fine, and now she just needed everyone else to see that.

The scale this morning had read at 132 and even though that was 2 pounds down, it just wasn't enough to stop her frustration at it all. Why couldn't the weight loss be quicker? She was barely eating as it was, so why wasn't her body losing the weight faster?

Maybe because you're still eating, eating like a fat person, so no wonder you still are.

Ziva stopped in front of her desk suddenly as her head started formulating its new evil plan. She sat down at her desk and began to write.

Xxxxxxxx

Gibbs smiled a small smile when he walked into the bullpen at 0600 hours and saw Ziva at her desk writing quite contently as she always did. He had always suspected that even though the young women lived alone, that she still used the extra hour as her quiet time, and as a way for her to prepare for the day. This is what he did also, and he couldn't for the life of him understand how DiNozzo seemed to always be running late.

"How you feeling today Ziva" Gibbs called quietly from his desk, still unsure of the reaction that would bring after the previous few days events.

"I'm fine thanks Gibbs" came the response from the young women, still intent on her writing. She smirked as she heard Gibbs let out a small sigh of relief. Did people not understand what fine was? Fine was:

Fucked Up

Insecure

Neurotic

Emotional

But when you told people you were fine they took it quite literally. Ziva smirked to herself again as she thought of all this.

This really is going to be too easy, all I have to do is smile and they will think I am fine.

Xxxxxxxx

"Ziva lets go" Tony half shouted whilst making his way to the elevator.

Tony watched as Ziva looked at him slightly dazed, before quickly standing up and grabbing her gear. Tony's eyes narrowed in concern as the young woman grabbed the desk slightly as if she was going to collapse. As she neared the elevator however she seemed steady so Tony decided to leave her for now.

Whilst in the elevator there was an awkward silence that was very rare on the Gibbs team. Usually Gibbs would be barking orders, Tony would be making one of his teenage jokes, McGee would be rolling his eyes and silently wishing Tony would shut up, and more often than not Ziva would be threatening Tony with death by paperclip if he didn't shut up.

Today however there was silence.

Ziva was uncomfortable and couldn't wait for the ride to end, as she was fairly sure that the other 3 team members had their eyes trained on her, ready for her to slip up so they could jump in and offer their opinion about what was wrong with her. She knew they did it out of love for her, but at the moment she just wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

I wish they would all stare at something else they are making me feel like a freak.

That's because you are a freak, a lazy fat freak so no wonder they are staring at you. Instead of wishing they wouldn't look, do something about it. LOSE WEIGHT!

Xxxxxxxx

The team arrived back at NCIS physically and emotionally drained. The victim a 46 year old Marine, and a father of three young children had been brutally tortured, murdered and then the body dumped in a dumpster in some of the more dangerous parts of town. Because his arms, and genitals had been chopped off, the team had spent most of the morning with the gruesome and unbelievably sad task of finding the missing body parts for Ducky.

The three younger agents returned to NCIS whilst Gibbs went to speak to the now widowed wife of the man, a task that none of the three younger agents envied him for.

"Jeezes I think it's time for lunch!" Tony exclaimed whilst rummaging through his desk drawer in search of a takeout menu.

"I still don't understand how you can witness something like that and then automatically think of food" McGee replied, even though he too was pulling out his home packed lunch.

"Ah well McHungry a man's got to eat. How else am I going to function well enough to help solve this case" Tony replied as he started dialling the number to his favourite pizza place.

Ziva sat at her desk emotionally drained. It saddened her to think that there was so many people out there dying or being murdered, and yet here she was. Eating disorders were their own form of slow suicide, and sometimes in her work it made her feel guilty to think that these people had no choice in their death and here she was slowly falling towards it.

But even the guilt she felt then was nothing in comparison to the guilt she felt when she even though about eating food. It was a never ending cycle and it was driving her crazy.

"I'm going for a walk" she announced suddenly and quickly exited the room. She needed space and somewhere quiet. Somewhere where she could be alone with her thoughts.

Tony just nodded his head and continued talking on the phone. For him the most important thing to do right at that very minute was to order a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese.

McGee however watched her go sadly. He still couldn't quite pinpoint what was going on with her yet. All he knew was that it wasn't the Ziva he had once known and loved.

Xxxxxxxx

She kept walking through the NCIS building until she found her favourite stairwell. It was the stairs that led down to the evidence garage, but since everyone was too lazy to take the stairs and only took the elevator, it was always deserted and was the perfect place to hide if you needed to. Ziva shivered at the thought of what would happen if anyone actually did ever find her down there, because it was usually the place she ran to when she just needed some space.

She sat down and placed her head in her hands waiting for the tears that she knew would come. Because she kept everything so locked up all the time, it often took a while for all her emotions to seep out. Sometimes they did, and sometimes they didn't but she always preferred when they did, because even though it gave her head reason to scream about how weak she was even more it meant that she didn't need to self-harm in order to feel something.

After about 5 minutes of just sitting with her hands in her knees rocking back and forth, the tears started to flow, and her body started to shake with the force of her emotions. This was a state that she didn't want people to see, for fear that they would discover that she wasn't as strong and together as she pretended to be.

Looking at her watch, she realised she had already been gone for 20 minutes. Knowing that she had about 10 minutes of her lunch break left before she would be needed in the bullpen, she quickly ran up the stairs making her way to the nearest bathroom. Pulling a scalpel out of her pocket that she had stashed there earlier, she rolled down her pants, and began to cut.

Watching the blood drip from the multiple red lines she had just drawn, she quickly cleaned them before standing up and righting her clothes. Quickly she made her way back to the bullpen, her face showing no emotion. Sitting down at her desk she began to chase up leads, as if nothing had happened.