He had gone with her to the hospital but had left before she had woken up, once getting the results back that mother and baby were doing absolutely fine.
She begins to cry when she does wake up and doesn't stop until Gibbs walks into the room and tells her to, Abby still too upset with her and McGee too afraid. Explaining repeatedly what had happened, that she hadn't hurt her baby, that Tony was okay (enough, anyway, she was alive), Gibbs gets her to calm down. He's furious with her as well but he cannot ignore the blaringly obvious voice in his head telling him that he'd do exactly the same thing.
Brushing her tears away with just the tip of her thumb, as if she were suddenly self-conscious, Ziva looks out of the window and away from him. "I would like to go home now."
Gibbs sighs and then nods, flapping around his cap as he walks out of the room to find a nurse. He knew what she meant by home. Tony. But Tony had barely so much as glanced in her direction after taking her away from the warehouse to the hospital; home was the last thing she would need.
He could kill her, he could actually kill her. He figures he could get out of receiving the full sentence, putting it down to manslaughter of a manic pregnant woman, wanting to get herself murdered.
He doesn't know who drove her home but her car is parked along the curb in its regular spot after he comes back from walking around the entire city, the sun going down. And just at the sight of it, he's feeling the ache within the pit of his stomach and he's having trouble breathing as he makes his up through the foyer.
He has no idea how he's going to handle this but he knows that stopping to think about it wasn't going to change a thing. Usually they waited for things to get so bad they crashed right into the problem but it was different this time they had to face it, head on.
He can sense her before he can see her.
"I'm sorry."
She's standing underneath the archway that connects their bedroom to the living room, the in-between, as he likes to call it, with her face hidden by the shadows.
He keeps his jaw locked, his heart racing and he pretends he doesn't hear her and makes his way over to the bookshelf where the liquor he never drinks is kept. He gets out a bottle of scotch and a small glass. He can hear tiny gasp from across the room. They both knew what alcohol meant, the history behind it, the message behind it.
He downs it in one straight go, slamming the shot glass onto the wooden table, grunting back the familiar burn.
She steps towards the table unable to keep the distance between them and makes her way carefully around it.
"Tony," She gently tries, her hands faintly resting against his hunched shoulder blades once she's reached him. He was breathing far too heavily and it makes her nervous because he still hasn't said a word to her. She's afraid he's going to swing out at something that isn't there when he really should just be looking at her.
"Tony, please." She starts again and takes a hand against his neck, clawing for him to turn around and just face her. She needs to see his face. Needs to see the damage. Needs to calm him down.
"No." Is all he can manage, shrugging her off with both elbows, "No."
She steps back, not needing more warning.
"Don't you understand Ziva, that you two are the most important things to me, in my life."
She watches the rise and fall of his back, "I know." She says softly.
"And you almost took that away today."
"Tony…"
He finally turns around, his eyes darkening to take her in. She's so close now that even without any lights on, he can still see the rings beneath her eyes, the way she's got her hair too tightly pulled back and as he flicks his gaze down towards her belly, he spots the bandage around her left arm and suddenly he can't see at all, the room spinning.
He can't stop and it all falls out of his mouth and he's yelling at her and it hurts, "Do you have any idea how fucked up that was Ziva, seriously any clue at all?"
She nods a little, "I know."
"No, this is not okay, you don't risk the life of our unborn child because you're feeling restless, the need for killing people an itch you still can't scratch." He spits and watches as his words fall over her.
She's still for half a second, hurt but then she swallows, her entire face rigid, gaining back that resolve.
"Think Tony, if the roles would have been reversed. There is no way you would have sat back, hearing that I had just been taken hostage by a rogue gun man."
"Well no actually Ziva because I care enough to protect the family I have not to try and have them killed." He bites back loudly.
Her cheeks flush pink, her eyes filling with tears and he regrets it the second after it leaves his mouth, because her brother for fuck's sake, he can see it filling in the lines, creases of her face, the hurt, her brother. She steps back and her eyes widen like she's in shock and she parts her lips.
"Ziva I-"
But it's pathetic and weak and meaningless he knows because he can't look at her face just as much as she can't look at his and he watches, doing nothing as she stubbles away from him, scooping the car keys up from the table and slamming the door.
He has no idea how long he stands there, staring at the door like she's right behind it but eventually he does move, wearily making his way over to the couch. And as he sinks into it, letting himself fold, he lets out a heavy sigh, balancing his head in his hands.
Shit.
He tries to think of the places she would go, run to in order to get away from him and the thought is so painful that his throat suddenly aches. She was pregnant and injured and upset and he had let her leave to go drive off, alone, into the night.
What the hell was he doing?
He stands, quickly pushing the palms of his hands into his eyes before looking around for his car keys, digging into his coat pocket for his phone and pulling it up to his face.
"Come on baby, pick up, pick up."
He flips it shut angrily when the ringing doesn't stop and continues to look around for his keys. Where the hell where they, his keys, his keys.
And just as he spots them, splayed mockingly plainly right beside the opened scotch bottle, his phone rings.
"Ziva?" He asks.
"Wanna tell me why I've got a pregnant woman crying on my sofa, DiNozzo?"
Of course. Tony slams a hand against his forehead, Gibbs, of course. He lets out a heavy sigh and clutches his car keys in his hand, flopping down against one of the dining room chairs.
"Boss, I…you were there, you saw what she did, she risked the life of-"
"For you, DiNozzo, come on, switch roles, nothing would've kept you just sitting and waiting, it wasn't right but you can't blame her for it."
Tony lets the words sink in in, "Boss…is it always going to be like this?"
Gibbs is quiet for a moment and when he speaks, his voice is softer, "Every single damn second, DiNozzo, now get over here."
He runs two red lights and almost misses the street completely he's driving so fast to get to his house.
And as he rushes through the unlocked front door in the direction of the basement, he expects the both of them to be downstairs, not sitting right there in Gibbs' living room.
Ziva's eyes are swollen red and she looks exhausted but he can see her face soften at the sight of him and it makes something soften in himself too.
Gibbs stands from the couch and bends down, kissing her forehead before leaving them, "You ever do that again, Da'vid." It's an unfinished threat, dripping with such honesty that Ziva finds herself nodding seriously as Gibbs gives Tony a stare then disappears through his kitchen.
It's quiet for a long moment as she sits there and he stands there, watching her.
But finally, her eyes give her away and she flicks them up at him.
He's rushing towards her before she can even let out another breath, her arms reaching out for him as he comes down towards her, pressing kisses against her face, her forehead, any little piece of skin he could touch. He had almost lost her today, as angry as he was, had been, the words he had said, he had almost lost her and that meant more than anything else.
She grips to his hands that have gone around her head, his thumbs rubbing just below the curve of her ear, "I'm sorry, Tony. I'm so sorry." She whispers, her voice breaking.
He plants wet, sloppy, all telling kisses right against her eyes then parts back to take in her face, "I know, I'm sorry too. What I said." He says softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She continues to look at him, her eyes welling with tears, her chin quivering.
"I would never…never risk the life…this baby is…" And the tears leave her eyes and spill down her face.
He presses his face against her cheek, rubbing his nose against her skin, suddenly breathless for her, "I know honey, I know but it's okay now, we're okay, the baby's okay, I'm okay, you're okay, it's okay." But she's crying and she crashes forward, burying her face in her hands.
Slowly he scoops both arms around her, moving her up so he can hold her better, though it's getting harder and harder, her bump the barrier between them.
"You were brave enough to do that, I wish, I wish I was as brave as you." He tells her quietly into her ear but she heaves a little, her face pressed against his chest and he thinks he hears you are.
They leave to go home quickly after that, eager to be back there together and the car ride seems to ease them both though she thinks he holds her hand a little tighter as they make their way through the foyer into the lift.
"McGee told me that you threatened to shoot him." She says once they enter the apartment and she leaves him by the doorway, heading towards the kitchen.
Tony manages a small smile as he loosens his tie, "I was close."
She clucks her tongue and shakes her head back and forth a little, her hands on her hips, "So protective." She says warmly. The color was back in her face.
Now he laughs, their eyes meeting, "Not my fault you're so damn stubborn darling."
Ziva makes a face, sticking out her tongue and reaches for the handle of the cupboard, pulling out the box of teabags, "I see…though I do think she will most likely find it more irritating than I do so I should not complain."
Tony immediately stops fiddling with his tie and looks straight at her, his heart picking up in his chest, he couldn't have possibly heard her right, "You just said she."
She leaves the teabags and turns to him, annoyed, "What do you mean I just said she, I meant me. Me as in she, Tony."
He rises from the chair, his eyes widening and he points a finger at her.
"No no, you said she as in she, our kid, she. It's a girl? We're having a girl?"
She folds her bottom lip under, trying to mask it but he can see it all over her face and he's suddenly smiling so wide it hurts and it spills over quickly into his heart, filling it, enlarging it.
"A girl? We're gonna have a girl?" He repeats a little louder, coming closer towards her.
She bites her lip on a laugh, nodding as he reaches for her face, cupping it in the palms of his hands to kiss her over the plane of her bump.
"They told me at the hospital." She says against his lips and she can feel and hear the steadiness of his breathing, the way he almost needs to lean his weight against her for a second.
"Ziva." He breathes. A girl. And he kisses her again.
"She's gonna be exactly like you, too passionate, too beautiful for her own good." He pants, their foreheads pressed together.
She laughs, "With these big wide green eyes, watching everything."
"I only watched you."
She snorts as he grins, "S'true!"
They stand there for a long moment, quiet, basking it all in and he's rubbing his fingers over the shell of her ear, looking into her eyes knowing that right in this moment, they were absolutely together with every single heartbeat, every single second.
"Are you sure you're not hurt, everything feels okay?" He eventually asks.
She nods and blinks slowly a few times, gripping harder to his hands. He knew she was tired.
"Ducky gave us both the all clear as did the paramedic and my OB/GYN I asked Abby to drive me to. However, I really do need a shower."
"Ahh, I can do you one better." He grins.
She raises her eyebrows as he comes behind her, sliding his face over her shoulder as he guides her through their bedroom and towards the bathroom, "Take a bath with me?"
She ends up in the tub by herself even though she tugs at him to join her but he's concentrating on better things, rubbing her lower back, pouring water over her hair as she clutches her eyes shut, titling her head back.
She lets out a string of content moans, leaning her head against his arm and he kisses her hair before gently helping her up and into a towel.
He leaves her to change while he takes a shower and empties out the tub.
As he comes back quietly into the room, expecting her to be asleep, he's met instead with her eyes holding his.
She smiles softly, the blankets pooled around her so that she was completely naked from the waist up. She's rubbing one hand slowly across her belly and he swears it's the most achingly intimate thing he's ever seen in his life.
"Here, come lay down, you might be able to hear her heartbeat."
He just smiles a little, god he wanted to paint it, draw it, write it all somewhere, she, her, a girl and still keeping his eyes on her he lifts off the doorway, "You can do that?"
"Yes, come."
He crawls onto the bed and repositions himself so that his head is flat just below the valley of her breasts, just against the rise of her stomach. He felt a little silly, waiting there, his feet hanging off the bed.
"Ziva…I don't here anyth-"
"Ssh, here, move a little." She holds his head, moving him around slowly until resting him against her skin.
"All I can hear is your heartbeat."
"How fast is it going?"
He reaches his arm over just bellow the dip of her belly where the skin melted into her legs and taps his fingers, expecting for her to make him shift again.
But she takes both hands and runs them through his hair, settling herself further across the bed, "That's not my heartbeat." She whispers and suddenly he can hear the noise like a solid, constant beat, a comforting reassure of life.
"It's hers."