A.N. This isn't grammatically correct or anything. I actually wrote it in one day at school in the back of my Science book but it is really honest which the last few chapters has been as well. More what I want to write than what I THINK I should write. Enough of me blabbering on. Read it- review it- tell me what you think and if you have any ideas you want in a chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or Whisper by Evanescence (which is a really awesome song!)

SPOILERS: Season 7: Episode 1

Whisper

Tony POV

I didn't tell Gibbs about that night. I was too worried that he wouldn't let her back at all if he knew. But she was better now.

I hoped.

She hadn't talked to me about it and I wasn't even sure if she remembered it; although avoidance was rather like Ziva David.

That night still haunted me; that crazy expression in her too bright eyes, the blood that stained my floor as she struggled.

I was driving her home as she had nowhere to stay that night and we all agreed she shouldn't be alone. That terrible emotionless dead look was on her face and nothing I said changed it. She didn't move, didn't answer my questions, didn't talk the whole car trip.

I f I was worried about her before I was terrified now. Where had MY Ziva gone?

By the time we got home it was dark but I kept the lights off while I gently pulled her filthy big coat of her thin shoulders. It felt like she would just snap in half at the tiniest touch.

I turned on a lamp when she slowly sat herself down on my couch. Every movement she made looked awkward, like she had to think about it, like nothing was normal for her anymore.

I slowly walked towards her, pulling up a wooden chair to sit across from her. The chair scraped across the floorboards and when I saw a flicker deep in the swirling brown depths of her dead eyes I knew that it had been a very big mistake.

She moved so quickly I barely saw it, kicking the chair out from under me so I landed on the floor with a loud bang.

She was suddenly on top of me, punching and choking me and although I knew what to do I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to hurt Ziva any more.

The pressure on my throat was getting harder though and even though I knew Ziva thought she was back in that hell hole, Saleem in the chair in front of her not me, I had to fight back or she would kill me without knowing it. I used my weight against her frail body, flipping her over so I was holding down her flailing limbs but after a well placed knee to the stomach, she pushed me off and ran to a dark corner, away from the lamp's light.

I could practically see the images flashing in front of her wide eyes, hear the noises she could around her and I felt sick to my stomach that she had to relive that nightmare all over again.

"Ziva," I whispered and although her eyes flickered towards me I don't think she registered it.

I got up carefully and made my way over to her, staying in her line of vision even though she wasn't seeing me anyway. I was right in front of her and I thought it might be okay, that she might be okay. I reached out, my fingers slowly extending until they just brushed her own but before I could do anything else I had been shoved into the wall and Ziva was off running again, coming into view before slipping out of reach of the light again.

I saw her shadow slip into my study and I quickly followed her, more worried about what she might do to herself than what she might do to me.

I eased into the room, seeing a small dark huddle under my baby grand piano. Of course Ziva would hide there.

I got on my hands and knees, staying the same size as her. It was a long shot but maybe she wouldn't feel as threatened with me down lower. As I crept forward I could see the fear in her eyes but there were flashes of recognition and confusion and I could imagine my face flickering between my own and Saleem's, Ziva trying to figure out who it really was.

I guess she finally figured it out because she let out the tiniest whimper that sounded so much like 'Tony'. I reached out and brushed her dirty cheek, running a finger down it before moving closer and gently pulling her out from behind the piano, whispering to her that it would be okay the whole time. I hoped that what I was saying was true.

I didn't let go of her until we reached my car but I held onto her hand the whole drive, trying to decide if I hated the dead look she wore before or the tormented crazy look she wore now, more.

I drove like a madman (or Ziva) and was outside of Gibbs's house in no time. His door was unlocked as usual and it felt strange to kick it open with Ziva still crazy in my arms.

I didn't go down to the basement where Gibbs's would have surely been working on his boat; instead I found his room and rifled through his drawers until I found a big NIS jumper that would hopefully comfort Ziva more than the clothes she had worn in Somalia.

She lifted her arms obediently as I undressed her and all the times I had imagined myself doing this were so far away from the truth it was funny. We hadn't been in Gibbs's house while I dressed her in Gibbs's shirt with Gibbs downstairs and we definitely hadn't been climbing into Gibbs bed.

And Ziva hadn't been crazy.

But I guess things don't always turn out the way we expect them to.

I knew that Gibbs knew something was wrong hen he walked in to see Ziva and I tucked up in his bed, my arms around her keeping her safe and her eyes wide with that crazy twinkle; but he didn't say anything, just climbed in next to Ziva and held her tight until she finally fell asleep, shivers wracking her body.

When I woke up the next morning Gibbs was gone but at least Ziva was sane again.

I hoped.

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Jules =)