Making Mistakes

Um...I may be rushing through this a bit because I want to get to the chapters about Mother's Day. But I'm really excited to write them! And I love you all for reviewing!

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Damon looked immensely relieved as he opened the door for Gibbs. "She's in the bathroom," he said softly, indicating with his head. "She won't come out...she won't answer me."

Gibbs took in the scene with narrowing eyes. Ziva's wrap dress was flung across the back of the couch. He picked it up gingerly and walked toward the door Damon had pointed out. He reached to knock, then turned to look at Werth. "Go for a walk," he ordered. "I'll take care of her."

Frowning in concern, Damon started to open his mouth, but he closed it again at Gibbs' commanding glare. "Sure," he said defensively, picking up his jacket and key and heading out.

Gibbs waited until the door was closed behind him before gently trying the knob of the bathroom door. Still locked. "Ziva," he called. "Ziver, it's Gibbs." He heard her move inside the small room.

"Come in," she replied quietly.

He tried the knob again. She had to be really out of it to realize she didn't need to unlock the door. Gibbs' stomach sank but he pulled out his lock-picking tools from his wallet and released the doorknob in a single twist. Gibbs slowly opened the door and looked in.

Ziva was curled in the back of the bathtub, a towel wrapped around her over her underwear. She was completely drenched, including her towel, though the dripping shower-head was no longer running.

Gibbs' heart ached at the reminder of her in his bathtub the night they got her back from Somalia. The look in her eyes seemed terribly familiar. "Ziver," he said softly, crossing to sit on the edge of the tub.

Her eyes met his, still wide and uncertain. "Gibbs," she said softly. Suddenly she started shaking, gasping for breath as she struggled back from the distant place she'd gone inside her mind. She reached up and he took her hand, held onto it hard until she calmed. Then Ziva pulled herself up to sit on the tub ledge beside him, her feet still in the inch of water in the tub.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Gibbs asked gently.

Ziva closed her eyes. "I thought I was better. I thought I could do this."

He shrugged. "You are better. Better than you were."

She looked at him, smiled faintly. Then she winced in shame. "I am sure I scared Damon," Ziva said regretfully.

Gibbs shook his head. "Don't worry about that now. Let's get you dressed and I'll take you home." To his relief, she didn't resist when he pulled her to her feet and handed her a dry towel and her dress. He went out into the room to give her privacy.

When she emerged a few minutes later, Ziva seemed normal except for the wild curling of her damp hair. Gibbs saw her glance around for Werth, but she didn't ask questions. He led the way down to the car and held the door for her, wondering all the while what this would do to her and Tony. On cue his cell-phone vibrated in his pocket, showing him Tony's name and number. Gibbs hit the ignore button and got into the car.

"Thank you for coming," Ziva murmured as he turned the car on.

Gibbs glanced over. "I'd go further." He didn't miss her smile.

Ziva squinched her eyes shut, rested her head back on the headrest. "Tony and I got so comfortable together, I thought...I did not expect this to be so...awful."

"You had a flashback?"

She nodded confirmation. "It felt for a moment like I was still there."

Gibbs glanced over at her as he headed for his house. He didn't want her to be alone. "You and Tony trusted each other," he said firmly. "That's a big part of it." To his surprise, Ziva sighed sharply at his words. "What?"

She shook her head. "Tony does not trust me. He said so. That is why we broke up." Her voice trailed off to a whisper.

Gibbs was seized by a fierce urge to slap his senior agent. "How can he not trust you?" he asked ferociously. He saw Ziva flinch. "Never mind," he said quickly "It'll keep."

They drove on in silence.

*

Tony rested his cheek against the arm of the couch. He still hadn't come up with a good reason why Gibbs and Ziva would both be missing from their homes, but it seemed unlikely that anyone would try to kidnap them, or Gibbs anyway, so he was trying to still the spinning in his head while he waited.

At long last he heard the sound of a key in the door and swung his legs off the couch, rising to his feet. "Gibbs!" Tony proclaimed as his boss entered.

Gibbs stopped short in the doorway, his eyes alarmed.

And then Ziva appeared beside him, her hair soaking wet around her shoulders even though it wasn't raining, her shoulders hunched and her eyes downcast.

"Ziva," Tony whispered, agonized.

Her eyes leapt to his, and the brokenness in her face and posture was briefly erased by an instinctive joy and relief at his presence.

Without stopping to think, Tony opened his arms and let her rush into them, held her close as the pressure and scent of her body reassured him that she was alright. After a long moment he pulled back to look her over and their eyes met. At once they remembered everything, and the wall of silence slammed down between them again.

"Ziva, why don't you go upstairs and run a bath," Gibbs said firmly. "You know where to find something to wear once you're warmed up."

She nodded, obeying without question and heading upstairs.

Tony watched her go.

"What are you doing here, DiNozzo?" Gibbs growled.

He turned back to his boss in surprise, then thought back. "I went out with McGee and he was reminding me of how much I love her and I went to her house but she was gone so I came here..." Tony trailed off. "If you're going to have a lock, you shouldn't leave the key under the nearest flower pot," he pointed out.

Gibbs glared at him. "It won't be there anymore," he promised harshly.

Tony frowned. "Where were you?" he finally asked. "What happened to her?"

He hesitated. "She was...out. She had a flashback and needed help," Gibbs said carefully.

Eyes filled with regret, Tony sank down to the couch. "She should have called me," he said mournfully.

Gibbs glared at him. "You shouldn't have done this to her!" he snapped.

"Me!" Tony protested. "It's not my fault she has PTSD!"

Shaking his head, Gibbs stood over him. "She was with Damon Werth. Wanted to be with someone who wouldn't reject her."

Tony's eyes blazed as he realized what kind of situation would have triggered an attack. "But how could she--"

Gibbs shook his head in the face of Tony's response. "She put herself in a bad situation because she was in pain. And that was because of you. You don't get to judge her for this!"

His anger fading, Tony dropped his eyes to his lap. "I know."

"Go home, DiNozzo," Gibbs said shortly.

Tony looked up pitifully. "Can I talk to her first?"

Gibbs studied him warily. "Only if she wants to talk to you." He waited for Tony's nod, then headed up the stairs. "Wait there," he called over his shoulder.

*

So Tony waited. Every thirty seconds he would begin to imagine Damon kissing Ziva, his Ziva, would begin to be outraged. But then he'd remember the look in her eyes. If she'd been moving on, he'd have been crushed, angry. Right now he was only worried.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs finally snarled down the stairs. "Up here."

Tony climbed the steps, reaching Gibbs at the top.

"There." Gibbs jerked his head, the look in his eyes a warning.

"Okay." Tony turned to watch Gibbs head down to the living room, then slowly crossed the hall and tapped on the door. "Ziva?"

"Yes," she said softly.

He opened the door. Ziva was curled up on the bed in a faded NCIS t-shirt and sweatpants. The clothes were far to big for her and made her look even smaller than she was. Tony stared at her a moment. He still hadn't figured out what to say. Everything he'd rehearsed on his way to her apartment had fled his mind. "The rules don't matter any more, do they?" he finally asked, his tone caught between regret and irritation.

Ziva's eyes widened. Her jaw clenched tightly against her response. Then her eyes fell and she spoke honestly. "Tony, I wanted you...but you do not want me. Does that not void the rules?"

He was silent a moment. "I guess so," he finally whispered.

Her eyes darted up to his, heartbreak lurking behind them. "Then I get to do what I want, Tony. And so do you. And we should find other people to rely on."

Tony nodded mutely. Her voice was adamant, her point valid. But her eyes, like always, told a different story. Told him that the best moment of her day had been hugging him before, that if he changed his mind now it wouldn't be too late. And curled up in Gibbs' clothes, she didn't look like an assassin. She didn't even look like an agent. She looked like the fragile, hopeless woman he and McGee had rescued all those months ago. Tony rubbed a hand over his eyes. His head was still spinning and he wasn't sure he could figure this out even if he were sober.

He finally spoke. "I'll leave you with Gibbs, then. As long as you'll be alright."

Ziva nodded firmly.

Tony turned and headed out, back down the stairs in a rush. He could hear Gibbs in the kitchen but didn't call a goodbye as he headed for the door.

Halfway down the front steps to the driveway, Tony heard the door of the house open behind him.

"Tony!" Ziva shouted out into the cold night air.

He turned, lifting his face toward the light.

"Why did you come over here?" she asked, the confusion on her face masked in shadow.

"You weren't at home," Tony answered simply.

Her mouth dropped open a minute. "Why were you at my home?"

Tony took a deep breath. "I'll tell you when we're both feeling better," he called finally.

Ziva nodded hesitantly. "Good night," she said slowly.

"Good night," Tony answered, then watched as she closed the door.