Her field time gets pulled back even further as the weeks pass and the rest of them try to treat it as though nothing is out of the ordinary. She's still a kick ass interrogator (Tony thinks the baby bump helps as a deterrence) and Gibbs has her working harder than ever, to distract her from the fact that she was pretty much banned from fieldwork.
But her agitation rises (both verbally and physically) only slightly, until of course they get a call out and she's stuck behind manning the phones, regretting for ever making fun of Abby's fear when they all left; it was terrifying the not knowing.
But Tony called when he could, telling her that they caught the suspect, that it was getting a little out of hand but he's okay and that he'll see her soon.
Which works fine enough until a callout turns into the nightmare she had feared. Though this one, she can't wake up from.
It's a Monday morning, which is usually (surprisingly) the slowest caseload day, not much traffic and not much noise but it's around lunchtime when Gibbs gets the call from Vance. Ziva already doesn't like it from the way Gibbs' face whitens, the way his hand shakes somewhat, fumbling to put the phone back into its cradle.
"McGee. Tony. Both of you grab your gear and meet me downstairs in the car. I've gotta see the director. We've got a hostage situation."
Ziva is half way out of her seat, standing when she hears the word hostage. She needs to rest her hands against the edge as she turns from Gibbs' hardened face to Tony's bewildered one.
"A hostage," She starts, her voice hitching, "What's the situation, is it under control, whose been called in? SWAT? Do I need to send out a BOLO?" She rattles them all off quickly and Gibbs stops to reach around the desk sitting Ziva slowly down.
"You stay put, we'll fill you in once we get there. McGee, DiNozzo, come on, car!"
They both move together in a flurry of bags and keys as Gibbs races towards the stairs, jumping them two at time towards MTAC.
McGee pulls his pack over his shoulder, flying past Ziva's desk, giving her a smile that is, Ziva is sure, meant to be reassuring. But it only fuels an ache at the back of throat and she begins to rub her belly as Tony comes around her desk.
"It's probably some bitter Marine wife, finally getting her revenge." She knows he's just trying to lighten the mood but she can't find a thing to laugh about; nothing about this was funny because she can hear it: the worry right in his voice. Something was off, something felt off but he's leaning down to kiss her forehead and she's lost on the words to get him to understand or to stop, to stay.
"I'll see you soon." He winks, gathering his bag upon his back and she stares at him, her mouth parting open watching him go but he stops suddenly just around the wall of the desk.
"And don't even think about it, Ziva, you hear me? You stay put."
They stare at one another until finally, weakly, she nods and he starts towards the elevator, only breaking his eyes away till he needs to.
She's left standing there while the continuous buzz of the squad room carries on around her, perfectly normally. She can feel the uneven beat of her heart and tries to open her nostrils open her mouth to get more air in for the both of them, rubbing again at her belly.
She wants to go downstairs and be with Abby but Gibbs hasn't left MTAC yet and she wants to see his face, wants to sense like she sometimes could, what he wasn't telling them but when he does come racing back down the steps, he's a blur of color and all she can make out is his voice, "Sit Ziver. You don't move. I'll call in 20."
She can't stand any longer; her knees now giving way and sinks into her chair.
She doesn't like this, this overwhelming uneasiness and that her ability to control it wasn't working. She didn't freak out, she was calm, strong, brave but something was off. And she can feel it right in the depths of her belly and she wonders as Abby comes walking through the pen, if it was because maybe her baby could too.
"Ziva," Abby says and it's the unmistakable relief in her voice that immediately snaps Ziva back into some type of control and she stands firmly.
"What's the situation?"
Ziva knows Abby isn't lying when she shakes her head, her own face filled with an uneasiness, "I don't know yet."
"Gibbs said he would ring me in 20 minutes so I think until then we prepare ourselves and just remain calm, this is routine."
Abby quickly nods as she paces to and fro. It makes Ziva nauseous, her morning sickness unrelenting in the middle of her second trimester, so she sits back down and lays her head onto her arms to wait for the call.
It doesn't take very long. She snaps her head up on the first ring; Gibbs doesn't even wait for her to say hello before he starts talking.
"We've got a Marine gone AWOL, his wife got the kid in the divorce. I need you to run a background check on Lieutenant Larry Wilson, see if there's anything in his file that will let us know where his mind's at, his history. The principal of the daughter's school is on his way to the base to offer any useful information."
"What's the situation?"
Gibbs is silent for a moment too long and Ziva practically snarls out the, "What is the situation Gibbs."
"8 kids, on a bus down at the abandoned depot. He shot the bus driver, has a gun to his daughters head." It comes out, piece by piece for her and it all rushes thickly around her head.
"Tell Abby to get downstairs, I'll call her from there."
She can hear the weakening of his voice, his strength faltering and she knows he's hanging onto whatever bit of it he's got left. It only makes her think of Tony.
"Gibbs…" She tries.
"Anything you find useful, you call me." And he hangs up.
Ziva turns her head to see Abby watching her from McGee's desk and they share a look before Ziva opens her mouth.
"Gibbs wants you to-"
"I know." Abby cuts her off softly and stands, moving not to the elevator but towards Ziva.
Her expression revealing an array of things but mostly worry, reluctance and it clicks in Ziva's mind as Abby folds her bottom lip down, creeps just a little closer, why.
"Abby, I promise I will not leave, go."
Abby hesitates, scrunching up her nose and her hands into tight fists and Ziva can only guess who assigned her the job of making sure she didn't leave, so much as move. She would've thought it slightly humorous if the situation had been different. They all knew her so well, perhaps too well.
"I promise." Ziva repeats breathlessly just as her phone begins to ring again. She looks away from Abby to pick it up.
"Agent Da'vid, Mr Henries the principal of Rosemarywood Elementary is here for you."
Ziva nods, looking over to see that Abby had left, "Send him up."
Mr Henries is a tall man, much taller than Gibbs with a hard face but Ziva can see the concern, almost guilt fresh in his eyes as he walks over.
"Special Agent Ziva Da'vid." She says as she stands up, reaching over for his hand.
He moves closer towards her desk, his eyes lingering on her stomach and he doesn't say anything though Ziva can hear it all the same, you're not in the right state to be handling a situation like this. She hates that it makes her question if maybe she isn't.
"If you'd like to follow me."
She leads them to an empty conference room, offering tea or coffee, which he declines, before she takes her seat, folding her hands together on the desk. He sits across from her.
"Mr Henries, are you aware of the hostage situation 8 of your students are currently in?"
He nods, "I know their names if that helps."
It completely derails her for a moment. They had names, they had people waiting for them, people who had given them those names, knowing the reasons why, and it was the most important thing she could think of. But it wasn't helpful, not for her now. She shakes her head against it, "We just need information on the parent holding the children hostage. Does the name Larry Wilson mean anything to you?"
He looks down at his hands and then across the desk, his face contemplative for a moment, "The name sounds familiar but I have no memory of meeting him."
Ziva's jaw locks and she squares her shoulders, "No memory at all? There are no fewer than three reports of him entering the school on several occasions heavily inebriated and you have no memory of him at all?"
He wipes at his forehead, sweat starting to appear, "No, those were small incidences taken care of by teachers, I was aware of what Mr Wilson had done but I never come into contact with him, he promised to never step foot onto school property again."
She's finding it hard to keep her breathing even, anger simmering within her and her voice comes out louder than she had intended, "And you didn't find it prudent to notify police that an intoxicated man was in the presence of students, children, Mr Henries?"
He moves forward in his chair, looking indignant, "No, like I said, they were small incidences."
Ziva pauses, letting the tension ease as Henries clears his throat and fixes his tie, "Why were the children on the bus in the middle of a school day?" She asks quietly.
"They're in kindergarten, they only do half days. Some parents prefer to pick their children up from the school and the rest will take the school bus home."
She hears nothing else past the word kindergarten. Her heart stopping. They weren't just kids, they were still only babies. Defenseless, terrified, innocent four year olds, five year olds. Just babies. Her heart clutches around it and as much as she longs too, she's too afraid to put her hands anywhere near her stomach right now.
"Thank…thank you, Mr Henries, for your time…you can go back to your school…to the other children. We will call if we need to."
He looks confused but otherwise relieved at being given the okay to leave.
Ziva holds out until the very second he's closed the door to rush around the desk, pull back her hair and throw up into the waste basket, once, twice, three times until she's gagging on just air.
She hangs her head over the top of it, trying to breathe, keeping one hand on her bent leg and one on the wall. She couldn't be like this, she couldn't break down, her baby depending on her, lives miles away depending on her.
She swallows a couple times and as she's pushing herself upright, her cell phone rings.
"Agent Da'vid?" A SWAT officer demands.
"Speaking." She says, clearing her throat, her voice hoarse.
"We've got a team surrounding the building and the children have been evacuated, all but one. His daughter Kasey, she's five."
"Are Special Agents, Gibbs, DiNozzo and McGee clear?"
"That's a negative ma'am, we've got a Special Agent McGee in direct line of the shooter. He is threatening to shoot the girl if Special Agent McGee doesn't back down. We believe he's planted a bomb on the bus and that he's the switch, little girl's sitting right at the back of it. We're working on it."
"Where is Special Agent Gibbs?" Though all she really wants to ask is where is Tony, where is he, how are you working on it, how fast?
"We don't know, ma'am."
Ziva sways on the spot, her fingers sliding against the table and it takes her a few minutes before she mumbles the copy faintly into the speaker, almost dropping the phone to put it down. She's dimly aware that she should be doing things right now, making phone calls, but her feet pick her up and take her mechanically across the floor towards the elevator and to Abby, who probably knows by now, who will need somebody like Ziva does right now.
She rehearses it in the confines of the elevator, a speech, a safe, no room for hesitation speech. Encircling herself so tightly around the facts, the words repeating themselves like she's in a trance. Falling out of it once the door dings open to breeze into Abby's lab before she can stop to think about it any longer.
"Abby, the children are safe but McGee is being held at gunpoint. A SWAT team is surrounding the building. There might be a bomb wired to the bus but there are people who are currently working on the situation." Though Abby should know all this, it helps to be the one to relay the information, like it should make the resolution clearer, simpler. Both.
But Abby doesn't turn her back, doesn't flinch or make any suggestion that she has heard any of it. Ziva slowly walks in further, making her way up just behind her.
"He is a good Agent, a brilliant Agent...who survived being held up at a woman's prison of all places. He will be fine, Abby."
It's at that moment when Abby turns and Ziva takes in her face, the way it's tightened, not out of fear like she expected but out of gentle remorse.
"It's not McGee he's got, Ziva," And Abby hesitates and it's all Ziva can to do not fall to the ground, feeling a subtle burn somewhere in the depths of her belly, because she suddenly knows, of course it would be him, of course.
"It's Tony."