A.N. Wow it's like I've woken up from a 100 year sleep =) This isn't great but it's gotten me out of my writer's block and I haven't posted anything in ages. I don't think it's finished but I wanted to get this up to at least see what people think so if you have any ideas on what you want in another chapter then say so in a review or if you want it to be finished here then say that too =)

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS and I don't own Little House by The Fray which this story was inspired by

Little House

She was at the point where she could send Somalia to the back of her mind, focus on other things while the daylight was around to chase away the dark memories. The only problem was after the sun had set the dark memories blended in exactly with the night and she couldn't chase them away no matter how hard she tried. She had woken up screaming, clutching her sweaty sheets like they were the only thing keeping her alive at night since she had returned. Everything she had been trying to hide; everything she had seen and been put through over there was scratching its way out of her no matter how hard she tried to forget about it.

Every morning she would make a hot tea to try and combat the hoarse, sore throat that was getting worse each day. Work was becoming more and more tiring especially since now she was doing twice as much paperwork and being harassed by everyone, Tony especially. One day she was just going to crack.

She padded out of her room, eerily calm after the last nightmare. Her eyes flickered to the deep shadows that could have been hiding anything and walked into her kitchen trying in vain to ignore the time.

Only midnight. She had a whole five hours to kill before she could even start to get ready for work and there was no way she could sleep any of those.

It was a funny thought; killing time. As if time was a living, breathing thing, capable of death.

She jumped up and moved back towards her bedroom before her thoughts turned really crazy and roughly pulled on shorts and a singlet before sprinting out her front door. Time died a lot faster when she was running but what she couldn't figure out was if she was running towards time or away from it. She didn't want to be thinking crazy thoughts like that though so she increased her pace and ran the familiar path that she didn't even realise she was following until it was too late. Oh well, at least she could get some paperwork done now.

She shivered as she entered the heated foyer of NCIS and nodded at the night guard before running up the stairs. The elevator left her too much time to think. She walked to her desk, seeing only a few night guards pacing the doors in the green glow of exit signs before she flicked on her desk lamp and started to work. She saw a flicker of movement out the corner of her eye and before she could even register where she was her hand was on her hip, feeling the familiar contours of her gun just in case it was Saleem.

Wait, she thought, her eyes never leaving the spot, Saleem was dead. Dead because of Gibbs and McGee and Tony. She was safe; but that thought couldn't get rid of the nightmares no matter how many times she said it to herself before going to sleep.

It was just like the director had said, she was damaged goods.

She smashed her head on the desk, trying to clear all the terrible memories from her mind but once her head was down it suddenly felt so heavy and her eyes shut of their own accord and before she could realise what she was doing she was asleep. The rest of her paperwork doubling as a pillow and the muted steps of the night guards her lullaby.

She slept through the swapping of the night guards to the day guards, slept through the light coming through the window, slept through all the dings of the elevator, slept through the people starting work, slept through Gibbs coming in and exiting soon after for coffee; slept through everything.

Tony stumbled out of the elevator at 0654 complaining about the early morning and lack of his coffee before dumping his bag on his desk and turning to see his new favourite sight.

Ninja-Probie asleep at her desk, head resting on the paperwork she had failed to finish. What more could he ask for?

He chuckled evilly, quietly of course, and crept up towards her, water bottle in his hand and grin on his face. She wasn't sleeping peacefully but he had suspected that since she had come back from Somalia and although it pained him to see her hurting he needed to get her back just once.

Her restlessness got worse though and she was clutching the desk so hard her fingers were white and her breathing was picking up and getting louder. Tony couldn't move. Was this because of a nightmare? Surely the memories couldn't do this to her, not since they had killed Saleem but she was tossing and turning and emitting whimpers that he never wanted to hear come out of her mouth and never wanted to again. It was too painful to listen to.

"Ziva," he whispered, stuck halfway between their desks. Too scared to go forward and too worried to step back.

He was suspended in the horrible limbo when she screamed. It shook him; more than seeing her resigned to death in Somalia because he knew that there was no way he could save her from herself. Guns and bad men were easy to get rid of but that presence of fear that Tony knew so much about yet so little took a lot more to go away and he wasn't sure if he could face it.

So the scream echoed around his head.

Then her eyes were on his and her hair was stuck to her sweaty face. Every inch of her screamed scared and that wasn't something Tony was used to so he kept on staring at her wild eyes and hoped that something would make it better so he could look away.

Gibbs was behind him, his warm, strong hand on his shoulder and his deep, caring voice whispering in his ear.

"Take her home, make her better."

And he knew disobeying a direct order was bad but he wasn't sure if he would be able to make her better and her crazy eyes agreed with him even if her protesting words didn't.

"I am fine," she growled as she was dragged to the elevator, still in her running shorts and bare feet. Since when had she forgotten shoes?

"I do not need your help," she hissed as the elevator doors opened but he wasn't listening to her because she had pretended she was fine for too long and he wasn't going to let her wear this mask any longer.

She huffed as he pushed her into his car and the petulant look on her face almost made him think everything was okay but then he remembered the scream and sped so he was driving nearly up to her standards the whole way to his place.

On the way he realised he didn't even know where her new apartment was.

"So..." he started but it fell flat and the awkward silence reclaimed the small space until they finally pulled up to Tony's place.

With the engine off the silence was deafening.

How can silence be deafening? It was another one of the stupid American sayings and although it was nonsense Ziva found herself thinking about it. But then she shook her head and realised that the daylight was no time to be thinking crazy thoughts like that so she climbed out of the car and walked to Tony's front door, leaving said man in the car thinking over exactly the same thing she had been.

She sat in his house awkwardly. It seemed like a lifetime since she had sat here, a lifetime that had handed her a whole lot of hurt, pain and confusion and it was unnerving to be here; as if she was pretending everything was as it used to be.

"So..." Tony tried again, sitting beside her in a cheap imitation of movie nights years ago. Luckily for him Ziva was finally sick of her sleepless nights and turned to him her eyes more direct and sane than they should have been.

"How would you feel if you had to relive the worst thing you had been put through every night?"

Review and say if you want it continued or not or even just put a smiley face =) Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

Jules