Hi guys, I'm really nervous about posting this today. I haven't had a ton of time to work on it, and am not super proud of or excited about the way I wrote this one. I debated not posting it and spending another day or two, but so many of you replied and added me I didn't want to let you down. I hope this is ok – please let me know what you think. And, if you don't like it, I think I'd rather have you not reply – thanks!

Also, note that I took a few liberties with how the stuff around Rivken really played out.

Broken Silence, Chapter 5 – Revisited

Previously...While giving Bayliss' old hideout another look, Tony confronts Ziva about her changed behavior since the warehouse attack. It's clear that Ziva is losing a significant amount of weight, is physically weak, and out of it most of the time. At first, she pulls her usual defenses, but after seeing how Tony, too is hurt by these past few months, she softens, momentarily.

Ziva is grateful to ride with McGee today. Though they sit in silence, it is a welcome break from Tony. His questions. The pain he wears on his face that Ziva understands she has caused. Her guilt that Michael's blood is on Tony's hands. His knowledge of what really happened to her in Somalia.

After leaving Bayliss' safe house the previous day, both tried overly hard to return their dynamic to normal. Tony, reverting to antics that usually made her laugh, stumbled backwards and cursed himself after making a sex joke that he thought probably not appropriate anymore.

Ziva, on the other hand, found it too hard to flirt back with witty comments while concentrating on…being. Not flashing back, not passing out. Keeping the blackness and dark demons out of her head.

And so today, she just concentrates on being, as she and McGee tail Gibbs and Tony. They head back to the very same warehouse where Ziva and Tony were attacked. The naked body of a seventh marine, shot in the face and the chest, had been found there, and with nothing pointing to the identity of their marine killer, the team is desperately hoping to gain a lead.

…

Tony and Gibbs drive in silence, too. Tony looks at his boss, effortlessly weaving the car in and out of traffic, running red lights when desired.

He has so much he wants to ask. Say. Yell. And even though he, quite frankly, doesn't know where to start, he sees his window of opportunity narrow as the warehouse appears in sight.

"About the other day….Ziva."

"We're gonna have her go back to the department shrink."

"Oh." Tony sat back, surprised that Gibbs had been making arrangements when he so clearly dismissed their conversation earlier that week. Just like Gibbs though, he thought, to be so stoic, silent. So he challenged his boss' plan. "And if she says no?"

Gibbs looked over at his senior agent, confessing, "I don't know, Tony." He waited a beat. "Have ya talked to her?"

"Well, yea boss, we talk everyday at the office…"

"DiNozo."

Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not really. She's said a little about her time over there, and I've pieced some together."

"I'm talkin 'bout Rivken."

Tony felt his heart skip a beat. "None of us really talked about Rivken. We investigated, sure, but we never really talked about that night," Tony's eyes grew wide as he felt himself start to ramble. "….though McGee certainly seems to enjoy lecturing me about my bad judgment, and the rest of…"

"Tony," Gibbs started, as he pulled into the parking lot and turned to his agent in disbelief, finally starting to understand the resentment, anger and hurt he saw repeatedly in Tony's eyes. "Is that what this is about? Are you doubting your actions that night?"

Tony hesitated, before shrugging his shoulders and trying to sound nonchalant. "Look at what it's caused. I mean, McGee's PMS'ing so bad I'm about to buy him tampons. And Ziva…I mean, I can't help but think that if I hadn't…"

Gibbs placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, looking him square in the eye. "You had no choice, Tony. You may not have played by the book that night, but you were looking out for your team." Gibbs was firm, as he continued. "And up there, in that apartment, you had no choice."

Tony's heart pounded.

"Staying in Tel Aviv, going to Somalia, that was her choice." Her choice. Sometimes, Gibbs thought that if he said these words often enough, he would start to believe them.

Removing his hand from Tony's shoulder, Gibbs watched Ziva and McGee enter the warehouse. He spoke, thoughtfully, still looking straight ahead through the windshield.

"We all have choices, Tony. And unfortunately, no matter what we choose, even if we think we're doing the right thing, there are usually consequences."

Tony nodded, processing his boss' words as he watched the man exit the car.

He still might regret his actions that night, but maybe Gibbs was onto something. Maybe everything wasn't entirely his fault – wasn't even mostly his fault. And Gibbs…the boss he knew and loved and worshipped had finally justified what had tortured Tony for months.

"Hey boss," Tony yelled, jumping out of the car and jogging a little to catch up. "Wait for me."

….

Ziva stopped walking the perimeter of the room, tired of searching for a stray bullet that was nowhere to be found. Instead, she examined her team. McGee's concentration and the repeated camera flashes as he snapped every angle of the dead and naked marine. The lightness she saw in Tony that hadn't been there yesterday. What was he so happy about? Maybe he got some, she thought dryly.

And so she stole away into the large warehouse, tracing an imaginary line against the wall with her fingertip as she walked. She stopped at the foot of the shadow-filled stairs, looking up. This is where it happened, she thought. I was overpowered, bound, almost killed. For the second time.

She began to climb, slowly, one step at a time, watching the scene unfold before her. She saw Tony fall down the stairs. She saw her blocked punch, her gun falling, the knife at her throat. And then she was in the room, just as it was before. The chair, still in the middle. She walked the perimeter slowly. She watched as the man picked up his gun and went after Tony. She watched as Saleem hit her and tore at her clothes.

She found herself in the corner, pressed against the wall. Her heart, racing so fast she thought it would explode, and sweat, pouring down her face, her back, her chest. Her breath came quickly, it felt hard to get air.

She left the warehouse. She heard and felt and saw nothing but…Somalia.

Downstairs, Tony looked up from the fingerprints he was pulling. "Hey, where's Ziva?"

And that's when they heard the scream. And ran.

The three men stopped, for just a moment, when they reached the doorway at the top of the stairs. Ziva sat in a corner, drenched in sweat and breathing as if she had just taken down a suspect, staring miles ahead. She repeated the same three words, over and over and over. I will not tell.

Gibbs and Tony were at her side in an instant, but at the first touch on her arm she swung out. Tony let the weakened blow come.

"Ziva," Gibbs whispered, softly into her ear. "It's ok. Ziva."

Tony looked at his boss, unsure of what to do; afraid to touch her. Gibbs nodded at him.

So he spoke. "Ziva, it's me, Tony. You're safe, it's ok."

She shivered and blinked heavily, looking at the two men. The sunken cheek bones, the dead eyes, the slumped shoulders. The defeat. Tony, for a brief second, was almost taken back to Somalia himself.

And then she couldn't breathe.

McGee stood several steps back, watching Gibbs and DiNozo place gentle hands on Ziva and whisper words of comfort into her ear. He felt anger build up. At himself, for not reaching out more to Ziva after her return. At Tony, for breaking protocol. The same plea drifted through McGee's head, as it had a thousand times before. Why didn't you let me in, Tony? I could have helped you with Rivkin.

He looked back at Ziva, not sure whether it was a good or bad sign that he hadn't once, not even today, seen her shed a single tear.

Her breaths were coming in large, panicked gasps. Her eyes were wild, her hands pushing the men away. The walls, the hands, everything was closing in on her. She felt the burlap sack - the one she spent days wearing over her head in Somalia - scratch at her face. For a moment she couldn't see.

And then two hands cupped her head, and she was surprised at how gentle the touch. She found herself looking directly into familiar eyes.

Everyone has betrayed me. Mossad, Ari, Rivkin, Tony. Who's next. You?

And then she was back. Her breath slowed. She pulled her head out of Gibbs' grasp.

"Have we identified victim number seven?" She asked, as calmly as if nothing had happened.

"Ziva," Tony rushed, still crouched by her side. Please do not pretend like this, too, did not happen, he silently pleaded to himself.

She pushed away from him, using the wall to propel herself to her feet. Heat rushed her cheeks as she felt the three men staring at her. Each sadly wondering when her strength, her resolve, would finally give in to the flashbacks and trauma that she seemed to relive more and more frequently.

"I need to go finish..." She trailed off, eyes averted, stumbling past McGee until she got to the doorway. Blackness threatened her vision, voices muffled behind her.

She felt hands grabbing her arms, guiding her down the stairs. Suddenly, she felt too weak and tired to protest. She could hear voices, see faces, but she could not process. She found herself in the back of a car, Gibbs telling Tony to sit with her, he'd be there in five.

A granola bar was pressed into her hands, already opened. A voice told her to eat. And she did.

…..

"It needs to be now, Leon ….I don't know if the hospital's the best thing for her. Can you set it up or not?"

Eyes trained on the car, Gibbs raised his chin slightly when he heard the words he wanted. "She'll be there in 15."

….

Ziva held the empty granola bar wrapper in her hands, playing with the edges, tearing them. A bit of color had returned to her cheeks, and she seemed alert again, focused.

As Gibbs slid into the driver's seat, she felt both men looking at her. Tony on her left. Gibbs, her diagonal. She spoke first, her words designed to control the conversation.

"I am...confused." She started. "How many times have we been in danger? Almost killed? It has not affected me, before."

Tony's voice was soft. "This is different, Z. Three months. They took….," His pulse quickened as he heard his words go down dangerous territory. "…they hurt you. A lot."

"I can handle the physical pain," she argued. "That has come and gone." She said this simply, as if pain inflicted by another could really rise and fall with the ease of a single breath.

Gibbs reached into the backseat, tapping her hand. "It's what's going on inside that you have to deal with."

She looked up at him as he went where she didn't want to go. "Don't bury it, Ziva."

She gave a dry laugh. "I am a trained assassin. We do not succumb to weakness such as this." She paused for a moment. "We do not get captured."

"You can't beat yourself up Z," started Tony, as she turned to him.

"For me to admit I am having...difficulties...what does that make me?

"Human," replied Gibbs.

She rephrased herself. "Who does that make me?" She gave a snort. "No longer Mossad."

At their silence she turned away. How could they understand? From a young age it had been drilled into her to never give into feelings, and this same training, she had applied upon return from Somalia. But after Bayliss, something changed inside Ziva that she didn't understand. For once, she couldn't control what was happening inside her.

"Ziva, an officer's waiting to drive you to the department psychiatrist. Appointment's in 15 minutes. And then I want ya to go home." You have to start dealing with this. Please.

She saw an officer standing by a squad car. He was young, nervous looking, and made her smile. How wonderful innocence must be. To have no blood on your hands, no weight in your heart.

She turned to Gibbs with a brief nod, before exiting the car. And just like that, she was gone.

Tony ached watching her. It didn't feel right to let her go after what had happened, without someone holding her and whispering reassurances in her ear. But she was Ziva, after all. It took a lot to cause Ziva to lean on someone.

Tony remembered her screams upstairs, her weakened fight. He wondered if that's what Saleem had seen. He wondered if Saleem laughed, took pleasure in seeing how weakened she had become. He wondered if it made Saleem hurt her more, harder.

And Tony thought he might throw up. But instead, he stepped out of the vehicle with Gibbs, watching Ziva drive away with the young officer. "She's going to be ok, right, boss?"

Gibbs turned to him, placing a hand once more on his shoulder. "She's got to learn who she is without Mossad. And that'll involve dealing with Somalia, without locking her feelings away like she's always been trained to do."

Tony nodded, a calm blanket of understanding finally falling between he and his boss.

Gibbs squeezed his shoulder.

…

From the front seat of the car, the young agent nervously drove. He had heard stories about Officer David and her Mossad training. Had heard that she could kill a man with one blow. Naturally, he was nervous as he spoke.

"Officer David, we, uh, we should be there in 5 minutes."

She opened her eyes, an eerily calm smile on her face. "Actually, I have to stop at my apartment first. If you can drop me there, I'll grab my car and drive back to base."

He hesitated. He was under strict orders from Gibbs to take her directly back to NCIS, and no where in between.

"Don't worry," she said lightly, trying to force the playful tone that came in handy with Tony. "I'll put a good word for you in with Vance."

"If you're sure it's ok?"

"Trust me," She reassured the young agent. "I know exactly what I am doing."

….

Next Time…

And unfortunately, there is no preview because I haven't written anything yet. So here's a question – would you all rather have a shorter chapter, less than 1000 words, that continues on what just happened. Though short, it would definitely have something interesting in it, whether it has to do with the case or with the character dynamic. Or, would you rather wait an extra day or two for something longer that covers a lot of ground (like the chapters I have been posting)?

The reason that I ask this question is that I'm going out of town for work tomorrow morning, back Saturday at midnight, so I probably can't do another longer chapter till Sunday.

Let me know!