Author's note: Yes, Breathe is back. I'm WFH because of the coronavirus pandemic and started rewatching NCIS from the beginning, which got my plot bunnies hopping. Kyrie and Kesterpan egged me on, and this is the result. I won't wrap up every loose end, but we will see how some of them resolve. I realize the universe's storylines with Tony and Sean's lungs probably resonate in a different way amid this pandemic — at least they did for me when I was re-reading Breathe to see where the team was when last we saw them — so if you want to give this a pass for now because of that, it'll be here whenever you're ready to dive back in.

This story picks up right after Finding The Way ends, but if it's been a while since you read that, the first couple of chapters should catch you up enough to remember where everybody is in their respective plot threads. Some of the information that came out then needs to be shared among the team anyway. (If you haven't read Breathe before, I think I can promise you'll have time to catch up while I'm writing this one. There's … a lot of backstory here, and a lot of familiar faces that pop back up.)

If you're waiting for the final chapter of What Tangled Webs, that's still a little ways off — I have to remember how I planned to solve that case first. ;)

Disclaimer: NCIS and the characters belong to DPB and their other creators, and no profit is being made from their use.

Chapter 1

Mid-August, 2010

As much as it had helped to talk to Damon, Ziva could not bring herself to go upstairs, even knowing Sarah was staying at her parents' house and she would not have to explain anything to McGee's sister. She made tea and sat at the kitchen table, refusing his offer to sit with her. Sleep would not come, and she could not make herself wish for it. Not today. Not when she knew what would happen if she closed her eyes.

Finally, in the hours before dawn, she went upstairs long enough to shower and change, then left. She drove into the District and walked along the monuments. At each, she paused to think of the war, those who had fought and died for their country. Her country, now. She owed a responsibility to them, and to herself, to be there for the troops who now served. She could not do that until she fixed this. This was not failure, though she knew her father would disagree. It was necessary. His way of living, if that is what it could be called, was no longer hers.

As the sky tinted a lighter blue with the coming dawn, she drove to the Navy Yard to watch the sun rise over the Anacostia. It was a new day, in every sense of the word.

While she was still in that shape of mind — no, frame of mind — she walked into NCIS headquarters and up to the squad room. She did not want to attract attention, which meant doing her paperwork early so it was ready once Gibbs walked in.

The forms all were online, and unlike Tony, she could type with more than two fingers. This would take very little time. Ziva got to the line "reason for requesting leave" and her fingers hesitated. No. Hesitation was a liability. It could get you killed in the field. You must — she must — press on.

She forced her fingers to type "mental health — PTSD" and did not allow them to delete it, though she wished it were not true. She had promised Damon. She had not promised Tony, but he, too, had been thinking of her yesterday when he confronted her.

Before she could do what she really wanted and delete the file, she forced her finger to hit "print" and heard the printer next to McGee's desk whirr to life.

She closed the file, and stood. It was just paper. It could not hurt her. No, she had done that to herself.

Ziva walked across the bullpen and picked up the form she had printed, the words there in black ink where she could not remove them.

"Agent David."

She looked over to see the director walking in.

"Good morning, Director," she said, though her hand holding the papers tightened on them, and she could feel the paper crumple. "You are in early."

"So are you," Vance replied as he stopped at the nose of the bullpen, briefcase in hand. "I don't see Gibbs, or the others. A case?"

Ziva shook her head. Before she could change her mind, she walked over and handed him the form. "Paperwork," she said. "Gibbs knows. I told him last night."

Vance scanned the form, but did not react except to raise an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

Ziva hesitated, then nodded. "It is not what I want, but…" She could not finish.

"I understand." He looked at her. "I'll put this through immediately, and if you need the name of somebody."

"I … Yes. I had thought to ask Brad if he could recommend somebody, or Ducky, but I do not want to…" She hesitated. "To explain."

"Come upstairs with me," Vance said. "Then you can leave before anybody else comes in, as I'm guessing you'd prefer."

"Especially Abby," Ziva said as she followed him toward the staircase. "She means well, but…"

"Yes, Miss Scuito is a force of nature when she worries about you," Vance said. "I don't blame you for wanting to let Gibbs handle that."

"Thank you, Director." Ziva matched him step for step up the stairs. "I appreciate this."

Vance nodded, but said nothing until they were in his office. He reached into a drawer in his desk for a paper and wrote something down, signing it. "She works with agents and military personnel," he said. "And David?"

"Sir?"

"This isn't a favor. You're one of the best agents we have, and it's our responsibility to help you deal with what you've seen working for us."

"But-" Ziva did not want to say it, but she could not allow the director to believe that which was not true. "This is not from…" She could not find the words.

"I don't know what happened to you in Somalia, or in any other Mossad mission before you became an agent," Vance said. "It doesn't matter. When a case brings those memories up, no matter the reason, it's our responsibility to help." He handed over the paper. "I'm glad you're getting help. Your desk will be waiting when you return."

"Thank you," Ziva said.

~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~

"So, what do we expect when we walk in this morning?" McGee asked Tony as they got in the car that morning. "Will Ziva be there?"

"I hope not," Tony said as he pulled out. "Based on what Damon told you yesterday, and what happened when I tried to talk to her, she needs to take a break and deal with this."

McGee looked over at his husband as he drove toward the Navy Yard. "The king of dodging psych evals thinks Ziva should get help? That says a lot."

"Hey, I go to a therapist."

McGee decided not to comment on how long it had taken Tony to get to that point. At least he had done it, and now, so was Ziva. "Ziva will still be in this morning, if only to put in paperwork. We should grab breakfast. Remind her we're still around for her, even if she won't be at work."

"Sounds more like a reason for a food delivery to the house, like the ones everybody made when they were telling us they knew we'd been sneaking around," Tony said. "But we'll start small: Breakfast burrito and that smoothie she likes for our little assassin."

The stop didn't take long, but when they walked into the bullpen, Ziva was not only there, she was coming down the stairs from the upper level.

"MTAC?" McGee asked.

"Vance," Tony said. "Which means our fearless leader must be—"

McGee didn't even bother to turn around. "You're standing right behind us, aren't you, Boss," he said.

The pair of head-slaps were a weird sign that it was going to be a normal day. Whatever one of those was.

"Breakfast?" McGee said, holding out a burrito to the Boss.

Tony said nothing, just handed Gibbs the dark-roast drip they'd picked up, then set the smoothie on Ziva's desk.

"Toda," she said as she joined them, her face pale — well, pale for her — with dark circles under her eyes. McGee passed over the burrito — extra peppers, just the way she liked it.

"You did not have to-" she started.

"We wanted to," McGee said, his voice quiet. Tony and Gibbs seemed to take the hint and stepped away. "Ziva, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other day. I didn't mean to." He made sure to keep the desk between them so she wouldn't feel cornered. "I shouldn't have-"

"McGee, you do not need to apologize," Ziva said.

"It's not a sign of weakness, not in this case," he replied.

She smiled, a small one, but a real smile. "No, that is not… You helped us solve the case. You could not have known."

McGee waited until she looked up at him. "I don't hurt Tony," he said. "Well, not unless he Superglues me to my keyboard again." He grinned to show he wasn't serious, and was glad to hear Ziva laugh, that they could still make jokes. "You don't have to be OK with what Abby likes to do in bed, with me or Jimmy or anybody. Abby's not you, and you're not Abby."

"I know," Ziva said. "But I do need to be able to live with myself, and until I can do that, I am not fine. No matter what I have said before." She hesitated. "I cannot promise I will be there soon, but I think I can promise I will get there. And I will say something next time I am bothered."

"Good," McGee said. "That's good, Ziva." He brought up the elephant in the room. "Do you want us to switch houses again, so you aren't in the same house as Damon. You and Sarah could move back to your place and Tony and I could share with Damon."

"No!" She shook her head. "No, Damon is not the problem." She pressed her lips together, as if she was trying not to add anything.

"If it's not-"

But Ziva held up her hand before he could say anything else. "Please, ask Damon. Tell him I said it was all right to tell you. I…" She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. "I am not ready to say it again, but I think you should know."

"Just me?" McGee asked.

"You and Tony can tell the others," Ziva said. "I trust you to know who should hear what, once Damon explains it, and I do not wish to have the conversation again."

~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~

Tony followed Gibbs over to the windows. "Boss, I'm going to head Josh off downstairs, fill him in on the basics," he said.

Gibbs just looked at him.

"Yes, I know next week is his last week before law school, but I have a feeling he's going to be around for a while," Tony said.

"Sarah?" Gibbs asked.

"They're not dating, but they're definitely friendly, and her coffee shop is near his apartment," Tony said. "McBaby hasn't scared him off, which says a lot."

"Go."

Tony headed downstairs and stationed himself outside headquarters. When he spotted Josh, he walked over.

"What's wrong?" Josh asked, as Tony pointed him over toward the Barry.

"Not wrong," Tony said. "Just not something that needs to be said upstairs."

"Is this about Sarah?"

"Not unless you've done something we don't know about, and in that case, I think I'd have to wait in line."

"No!" Josh said, his face horrified. "I swear."

"Relax," Tony said. "It's not Sarah, it's Ziva."

"Ziva?"

Tony explained about the leave of absence.

"That's…" Josh's expression reminded Tony of when they first met.

"You know how you told me your dad was a big fan of Princeton," Tony said.

Josh nodded.

"War is hell. Terrorists are worse. Your father, I'm guessing, wanted to protect you from that."

"That's because he was my dad," Josh said.

Tony laughed, because really, what was the other option. "Not every father is like yours," he said. "Ziva, well, let's just say hers is a particularly unusual one."

"You're not going to tell me why."

Good, the kid had learned something. "Not my story to tell, and not one you should ask Ziva about either. If you're around this weird family of ours for a while, you'll get the basics eventually."

"My internship is almost over," Josh said.

"You really think next week is the last time you'll see any of us." Tony snorted.

"Well, no. Not really."

"It's not a secret. Pretty much everybody knows something, even if McGee's parents only know bits and pieces. But it's a story for another day."

"Jimmy told me about Evil Josh, at my first Game Night," Josh said. "Not a lot, just enough to understand why Sarah turned white when she heard my name."

"That's how we do things," Tony said. "It's a different kind of need to know, and when you do, you will."

"So, what's going to happen with Ziva off?" Josh asked.

"Vance will probably assign Dwayne Wilson TAD, like he did when McGoogle was out with his bum wing," Tony said, heading back toward the NCIS building. "The list of people who can handle being on Gibbs' team is pretty short."

"I can see that," Josh said. "He reminds me of some of the Marines my dad knew."

~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~

Ziva left with her plant, most of her things tucked into a desk drawer, while Tony was outside.

McGee sifted through phone records for one of the cold cases he thought he could make some headway on while he waited to see if Vance was sitting them for the rest of the week or not.

When he saw Vance and Gibbs over by Jenkins' desk in the next row, McGee wished he could-

"Really?" Jenkins stood. "Again?"

"Jenkins, Gibbs, my office," Vance said, his face grim.

As the team leaders headed toward the stairs, Vance said something to Dwayne, then caught up to Gibbs and Jenkins. McGee wasn't surprised to see Dwayne walk over once the others were upstairs.

"You TAD with us?" he asked the younger agent.

"So Vance said," Dwayne replied. "Jenkins is not happy."

"He's up against Gibbs and Vance. He's going to have to get used to it," McGee said, unable to resist a smirk. "You don't mind helping us out?"

"You certainly get interesting cases," Dwayne said. "It's always an experience working with you guys."

"And why is it you always get that spot?" The new voice was snarkier than Tony on his best days. "What makes you so special?"

"Agent Krone," McGee said, suppressing an eye roll at the agent's appearance near his desk. "Dwayne's worked with us before. It's hardly surprising that he would be Vance's first choice this time, especially since the Cold Case unit is, by definition, not working on hot cases."

"First choice for what?" Krone said. "All three of Gibbs' loyal lapdogs are here today — you, DiNozzo, David. Why do you need a fourth?"

"You seem pretty interested in the MCRT," McGee said. "Now why is that exactly?" He kept his gaze on Krone. After seven years working for Gibbs, he knew just what would happen. Sure enough Krone looked away first, and left, muttering under his breath.

"What's his problem?" Dwayne asked, his voice low.

"He wants on Team Gibbs, which is stupid, because Gibbs would chew him up and spit him out by the end of his first day," McGee said. "He was bucking for my spot when I was out on medical."

"Should I be worried?" Dwayne asked.

McGee shook his head. "He's all bark. Even Jimmy could scare him off if we really wanted to shut him up."

~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~NCIS~

Once the three men were in his office, Vance sat at his desk and looked at the two team leaders. "You have a problem with my decision?" he asked.

"I'm having a little trouble sorting out your priorities, Director," Jenkins said. "You're pushing everybody to dig into cold cases because you say we have too many, but you just took the brightest young agent on my team — again — and handed him over to Gibbs for who knows how long."

"I did," Vance said. "As the director, that's my right, to assign agents as I see fit."

"Then don't expect us to solve as many cases while we're a man down," Jenkins said. "Or is that your plan, to make me look bad when I'm only months away from full retirement?"

"Nothing is going to affect your retirement or your status at this agency," Vance said. "Think of the cold case competition as a chance for me to scout for talent. Cold Cases will need a new member after you retire, and I want to see who has the skill set to tackle those kinds of problems."

"And Wilson?" Jenkins asked.

"He's survived two stints working for Gibbs without threatening to either quit or shoot him," Vance said. "As I recall, McGee and Paula Cassidy are the only other agents in that category. McGee's on the team already."

"And Cassidy's dead, I know." Jenkins frowned. "I don't like it, but fine. Your call."

"Yes, it is." Vance looked at both men. "You want to sit in this chair, you're going to have a long wait. Until then, my seat, my call."

Jenkins left, but Gibbs didn't follow. Vance wondered why that even surprised him anymore.

"You need something else?"

"Cold case competition." Gibbs didn't say anything else, but what else could he expect from the man.

Vance looked at the biggest pain in his ass at the agency. "You think I'm not being forthcoming, Gibbs?" he finally asked.

Gibbs lifted an eyebrow.

Vance waited for him to say more, then remembered who he was dealing with. He hit the button to make the room a SCIF.

"That bad?" Gibbs asked.

"I've been reviewing the files," Vance said.

"Not my team's."

"No. Cold cases. You don't have many of those. Some teams can't say the same." Vance weighed how much to give up. "That's not what I want from my agency."

"What's the end game, Leon?" Gibbs still stood straight, but relaxed. Vance felt the tension ease out of his shoulders. He might be a pain in the ass, but things went better when Gibbs was on board.

"We close cases, give the people involved closure, and see what we missed the first time." Vance got up and walked over to the wall of boxing photos. "Rest assured, this won't impact my plan to give DiNozzo the Cold Case team in January."

"He know that?"

"He should. If you hear otherwise, send him up." Vance turned back toward Gibbs. "If I'm right, some of these cases could have been solved the first time."

"You think somebody screwed the pooch." Gibbs smirked. "You're getting all the agents to prove it by solving the cases."

"Work Wilson into your team, allow them all to work cold cases when you don't have a hot one, and let me worry about the rest," Vance said. "Your team's had a challenging year. You've handled it well. Keep doing that and we won't have a problem."

Gibbs just nodded and left. Vance knew better than to think the conversation was over, but he'd let Gibbs gnaw on the bone he'd tossed him for a while before briefing him further. By then, he'd have a target.