It's been a little longer than I hoped, but here is the next chapter. Next update will probably be in the beginning of March after I get through some work stuff. Hope you all continue to enjoy! And remember, reviews are welcome...
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It had taken some time to make sure Ziva was stabilized for the flight. During the final leg of the trip, Ziva began to experience sharp pain and was given morphine in an attempt to make the remainder of the trip bearable. Ducky agreed to be on-call, and met the team when the transport touched down. After assessing a sleeping Ziva, he suggested she be taken to George Washington University Hospital as per the discharge orders from Ramstein and asked one of the orderlies to call for an ambulance. He wanted to take a cautious approach with everything she was just through and did not want to chance a relapse. Assessing the rest of the team with knowing eyes, he offered, "I will accompany our dear Ziva to George Washington and stay with her tonight. You all should go home and get some rest." Tony began to form a protest and was quickly interrupted. "I insist. Get a good night's sleep. All of you. I assure you, Ziva is in quite capable hands and will be here in the morning when you're rested."
After a taxing twenty-four hour journey from Germany to Bolling AFB, everyone was exhausted. And not just from the flights themselves, but from the entire experience. Tony knew Ducky was right, and despite his frustration with Ziva, he was hesitant to leave her side. He closed his eyes, feeling exhaustion fill every part of his body. "Yeah, ok Ducky."
"Let's go, Tony. I'll drive you and McGee home," Gibbs ordered more than offered.
The car ride was silent. McGee was the first to be dropped at his apartment. Goodbyes were exchanged and Gibbs continued to Tony's apartment.
Once outside, Tony thanked Gibbs for the ride, but hesitated getting out of the car. "She'll be ok, DiNozzo," Gibbs said without glancing over.
"Yeah, I know Boss. But, I'm more worried if we'll be ok. Ziva and I, I mean," he finished with a sigh.
Gibbs now turned his head. "Look, Tony. I get why she did it," he started, and quickly continued as Tony narrowed his eyes at his boss. "But I also get why you're pissed at her. You two have some shit to work out. Just remember, you've gone to the ends of the world for her, more than once. That means something."
Tony smirked, replying, "Goodnight Boss," as he exited the car.
Inside his apartment, Tony dropped his bags by the door, not caring about keeping things tidy tonight. He kicked off his shoes and proceeded to the minibar, pouring himself two fingers of his choice scotch. There was only an hour left in the day. He should have been heading to bed, but he was unsettled. Now that the mission was over and everything had slowed down, he had time to process. He realized how close he came to losing her. Again.
Pulling out the letter that she had left for him, he read it once more. When finished, he palmed the key that was enclosed. The instructions had said to take the key and contact Schmeil. Curiosity got the best of him. Downing the last of the scotch, he performed a quick calculation and picked his cell up from the coffee table. He knew it would be early, but he figured Schmeil would want to know about Ziva. Plus, he needed to know what the key was for. Dialing the programmed number, he sank into the sofa, feeling the fatigue invade every inch of his body. On the fourth ring, an old but familiar voice sleepily greeted, "Hello?"
"Schmeil. Hey, it's Tony DiNozzo." There was no masking the pure exhaustion he felt.
Schmeil's tone and state of wakefulness changed immediately upon hearing Tony's. "Tony. What is wrong? What has happened?"
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the mounting headache away. "It happened again, Schmeil. Someone came after Ziva. Well, first Gibbs, then Ziva. We found her just in time though, and she's recovering, but not before sending us on a wild goose chase so that she could protect us and almost get herself killed in the process."
There was no mistaking the bite at the end of Tony's response. "Oh my. But she's ok? Was anyone else hurt? Are you ok?" he asked with obvious worry.
"Yeah. We're all fine. Just exhausted… and I'm a bit confused," Tony hedged.
"Go on," Schmeil prompted, sensing this involved him in some way.
Tony sighed, recollecting finding Ziva, discovering the letter, and reading it for the first time. "She wrote me a letter apologizing for… for not making it and said that I should contact you about a key that she left me."
"And you would like to know what she meant," Schmeil finished with a matching sigh, realizing that she never told him.
Exhaustion paved the way for brutal honesty. "Yeah, I would. And I think I stand a better chance getting a straight answer from you."
Schmeil was quiet for a few moments, pondering his options. "Is Ziva still in the hospital, Tony?"
"Yeah. Our flight landed about two hours ago. Ducky suggested she follow the doctor's orders and spend some more time in the hospital, sent her to George Washington."
"And Ziva went willingly? That does not sound like my Zivaleh."
Tony gave a biter chuckle. "Oh. She didn't go willingly. She was knocked out with morphine."
"Ah." Tony could hear the rueful grin. "That explains a lot." Another pause. "I feel it is time for a personal visit, my dear boy. Would you be opposed to some company for a day or two? I believe we have some things to discuss."
"Mi casa es su casa," Tony invited, despite company being the last thing he wanted.
"Great! I will pack now and book the first available flight. I'll text you my flight plans once they are arranged. And Tony…"
"Yeah?" Tony questioned a little harsher than intended.
Schmeil changed the content of his comment, sensing now was not the time. "I am glad everyone is alright. I will see you soon."
Tony poured another scotch, downing it in one swallow. What was there to discuss? What was so important that it needed to be done in person?
Feeling his body beginning to involuntarily shut down, Tony stumbled toward his bedroom, collapsing on his queen-sized bed fully clothed. The bed had been a purchase shortly after promises and reassurances were made. He had been keeping it a surprise for when she returned, often fantasizing about the activities it would see someday. Tonight, however, those thoughts were far from the reaches of his mind as sleep consumed him in seconds.
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Schmeil's text, had come shortly after he initially fell into a restless sleep. It stated that his flight left at six-thirty Israel time and to not worry about picking him up at the airport, he would be perfectly fine getting to Tony's apartment on his own. Tony tapped out a quick, affirmative reply and set his phone to vibrate. He knew he should never be unreachable according to one of the rules, but his brain couldn't process which one through the fog of exhaustion.
Tony managed a few more restless hours of sleep. They were filled with images that left him feeling grief, sorrow, anger, loneliness – a myriad of negativity.
As the sun began to rise, so did Tony. He needed to go to the hospital. But, first, a shower was a must. Stripping off clothing that had been worn for almost two days, he stepped into the hot steam and allowed the water to relax a lot of the tension that had built since that morning in MTAC. However, he still needed to work things out with Ziva. One moment, he was just grateful that she was alive. Then, in the next moment, his anger bubbled to the surface. He needed resolution. They needed resolution.
Exiting the shower, he wrapped the towel around his waist, brushed his teeth, and dressed in jeans and a pullover fleece. Not his normal, but he wanted comfortable today. He scrawled a quick note to Schmeil, folding it and placing it in an envelope along with a spare key to his apartment a per his responding text, the irony of preparing it not lost on him.
He quickly pinched some food into the goldfish bowl, grabbed his coat and phone, and with keys and envelope in hand, pulled the door shut behind him. Tony dropped the message for Schmeil with the elderly lady in 417 and proceeded to the hospital.
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Thinking he would get some alone time with Ziva had been his first mistake. When he arrived, which was early in his book, Ducky continued to watch over her sleeping form like a hawk from one side of the bed, wanting to make sure for himself that everything recorded in her accompanying medical file was accurate and nothing went undiagnosed. Gibbs was already there, coffee in hand, standing off to the side silently observing. Abby sat at her other side gently stroking the back of her hand, quietly updating her on Sister Margaret's almost perfect game that she blew in the ninth frame and Jimmy's and Breena's perfect new addition. For a moment, Tony panicked, thinking that maybe she slipped back into a coma.
Having had enough seriousness in recent hours and days, Tony employed a touch of deflective humor from the doorway to help calm and center himself, as well as address the questions that panicked him.
"You'd think she would have had enough sleep lately. Shouldn't she be awake?"
Ducky and Abby both turned at the sound of his voice. Abby stood up and stalked over, not stopping until she landed a crushing hug. "I'm glad you're ok. All of you," she rasped.
"Aagh. Just your usual, run of the mill psycho. Nothing we couldn't handle. Well, almost…"
"Tony." Gibbs interrupted, the warning clear in his tone. Abby released Tony, returning to her seat.
Tony just eyed Gibbs for a moment. Gibbs stared back. Tony was the first to look away, his eyes landing on Ducky for an update. "So, Ducky, why is Ziva still sleeping? I thought once the morphine wore off from the plane ride, she would be up and about."
"Well, Tony, I believe the referenced plane ride jostled our dear Ziva around a bit more than her body appreciated, causing her a great deal of pain. She had to be given another dose of morphine early this morning, and they have since then put her on a much reduced drip that should end in an hour. From what I can discern, the doctors at Ramstein patched her up quite nicely though," Ducky finished positively, knowing that there was enough negativity swirling around the room at the moment.
Just then, the party grew when Tim arrived carrying a Caf-Pow, a tea, and a coffee. He spotted Tony. "Sorry, Tony. I didn't get you anything. I can run back out if you'd like. Or, here take mine…" he offered, reaching for his cup.
Tony held up a hand to halt Tim's babbling. "It's ok, Tim. I'm good."
Sensing Tony needed some time to himself, Gibbs began to dole out orders. "McGee. Take Abby over to the Navy Yard. Still have work to do today. Ducky, you can ride with me. I'll give you a ride home then tonight." Abby placed a kiss on Ziva's forehead, Ducky squeezed her hand, and Tim waited by the door. Once they were gone and out of earshot, Gibbs turned his attention to Tony. "Talked it over with Vance this morning. You've got a week off, DiNozzo. Get things straightened out. Got it?"
"Yeah, ok." He paused and Gibbs waited. "Still got some bourbon in the basement, Boss? Have a feeling I might need some sawdust therapy this week."
Gibbs smirked, "Door's always open, Tony."
And with that, he found himself alone yet again with a sleeping Ziva.
Assuming she would be awake and ready to talk had been his second mistake. So he just sat in one of the recently vacated vinyl chairs and stared at Ziva. Despite the recent events and his frustration, her beauty still stole his breath. He laced his fingers with hers, bent over, and rested his head on the edge of her bed. Memories flashed, good and bad, flooding his brain. Paris, Berlin, Israel. Discovering she was missing, then finding her at the Cobb farm. Sharing a slice of pizza and a heartfelt memory in the pouring rain outside a hotel oh so long ago. Ray, Michael, Jeanne, EJ. Setting up the opera in the bullpen. Movie nights filled with wine, pizza, and laughter. His mind's movie reel kept spinning until the inadequacy of the night's sleep called it a wrap, and he succumbed to the exhaustion he only thought he addressed during the night.
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Everything felt heavy. Her head, her eyelids, her tongue, her entire body. Ziva calmly let her mind take stock, remembering what transpired in the last few days. The last thing she remembered was the plane ride and the building pain with every bump of turbulence they encountered during the long journey. She recalled one of the orderlies asking if she wanted morphine early on and quickly denying it, returning to her old beliefs of never showing weakness. But as, the trip grew in length and the pain grew in intensity, Ziva had finally agreed, allowing vulnerability and surprising her traveling companions.
With her memories sorted out, she opened her eyes, finding herself surrounded by pale blue walls and a bank of windows allowing midafternoon sun to stream in. Machines beeped steadily and the TV hanging in the corner scrolled through the different services George Washington University offered. Everything one would normally expect in a hospital room. What she didn't expect was the reason that lied behind the heaviness of her hand. She turned her head slightly and angled her eyes downward to find Tony sound asleep, their fingers intertwined. A small sigh of relief passed her lips. Ziva knew they still had things to discuss, and she knew the road was still going to get bumpy, but she took this as a sign that their love was still intact.
Not wanting to disturb him, Ziva laid awake for nearly two hours, thinking back over her journey since leaving Israel. Self-reflection, she had learned, was necessary for growth and for change.
Around five o'clock, she felt Tony begin to stir. He lifted his head, green eyes meeting brown. "Hey," he greeted, his voice still thick with sleep.
"Hey, yourself," Ziva tested, unsure what mood Tony was in.
"How long have you been awake?" he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Ziva frowned as the memory of a similar question flitted through her mind's eye. "Long enough to see that you were completely exhausted. So I let you sleep."
"You should have woke me, Ziva," Tony admonished.
Ziva studied Tony, missing the warmth of his hand. "I was just making sure you got some much needed rest."
"Dammit! Stop looking out for me, Ziva!" Tony snapped, the dam of frustration breaking.
Ziva didn't flinch, but looked down and away, hiding the sting of his words.
Tony ran a hand down his face and mentally cursing himself. "I'm sorry, Ziva. The last few days have been stressful, to say the least, and I didn't mean to take it out on you."
Not making eye contact, Ziva acknowledged his feelings tightly. "I understand you are frustrated with me, Tony. I am truly…"
"Ahhh! Good evening Ms. David." A tall thin man of about 60 marched into the room. All thoughts of addressing the elephant were tabled for the time being. "I'm Dr. Whinecot. Dr. Mallard asked me to keep an eye on you until he could return. How are you feeling this evening?"
"Good. When will I be released?"
Surprised, the doctor stared for a moment before replying. "Well Ms. David, the orders from Ramstein said you were to spend an additional week under close observation."
"I recall the orders, Doctor," Ziva began in protest. "And I assure you, I will take extra precautions…"
"She'll stay with me," Tony declared as he interrupted. Again, green met brown. "I'll be home all week. I can look after her."
"With all due respect, Mr…?"
"DiNozzo," Tony supplied.
"You are not medically trained, correct?"
Prepared, Tony offered, "No, but I know Dr. Mallard would be willing to stop by every day to check on Ziva. And if necessary, we could have a visiting nurse come in as well."
Dr. Whinecot considered and turned to Ziva. "Well, we need to be sure all of your vitals are stable and strong. I also want to check your sutures and change out your bandages. If everything looks to be in order, I can agree to those terms, if you are willing."
Again, green to brown. "Ok."
A team of nurses tended to Ziva while Tony excused himself, seeking fresh air. When he returned, Ziva was dressed and Team Gibbs was once again present. She sat on the edge of the bed awaiting a wheelchair to take her to the lobby. She had tried to insist on walking and was quickly reminded by her family members that she had not used her legs in quite some time. After hearing enough of the volley, a short round stern nurse, who was finalizing Ziva's paperwork looked at her and said that if she did not accept the chariot that awaited, she would personally put the catheter back in, right then and there. No further protests formed on Ziva's lips, and everyone else wore bemused looks.
Tim drove Abby and Ducky home. Gibbs followed Tony home, offering to help get Ziva settled. Ziva leaned on both men as they proceeded from the car to the apartment, not enjoying the fact that she felt so weak, but knowing that she had no other options. Another memory opened as they helped her from the elevator down the hallway, but she would not allow it to play and pushed it back down. As they entered the apartment, Tony heard music drifting from the living room. He reflexively reached for his sidearm as Schmeil turned the corner. "Ahh. There you are Tony. I see you have our dear Ziva and some reinforcements," referring to Gibbs.
Ziva stared. "Schmeil?" she asked as if she were looking at a man with two heads.
"In the flesh, Zivaleh." He stepped forward, giving her a gentle hug. "I am so glad to hear and see that you are going to be alright." He then turned to Gibbs, offering his hand. "Agent Gibbs. Good to see you again. I suppose I could count myself as another reinforcement."
Gibbs reached out his own hand. "Likewise."
"Tony, I made myself at home in the spare room. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all, Schmeil. I figured you knew your way around well enough," Tony replied as he and Gibbs assisted Ziva slowly to the couch. Ziva turned questioning eyes toward Tony.
Tony knew the question without the words. "I thought you could use an old, familiar face. I don't mean old old, just someone who has known you longer than all of us," he tried to explain.
Schmeil waved him off. "It is ok Tony. I am old. Old and wise beyond my years. And I am going to knock some of that wisdom into the two of you before I depart," he finished with a pigeon laugh as he proceeded to the kitchen for a glass of water.
Both stared after Schmeil. Then, Ziva turned to Tony and thanked him for his thoughtfulness, knowing though there was another motive behind the contact.
Schmeil returned with a glass in his hand. "Please forgive my boldness. I know you're all tire, but I came straight from the airport here and have had little to eat. Would it be possible for you and Agent Gibbs to pick up a pizza or two from that little place down the street? Oh, they did have the most amazing pizza the last I was here." Schmeil gave the two other men a look with a slight head tilt toward Ziva.
Years of experience reading more into what was actually said had Tony agreeing quickly, knowing Schmeil wanted some time with Ziva. Tony turned to Gibbs asking if he wanted to stick around for a slice or two. Gibbs agreed, more interested in making sure Ziva was settled in, rather than filling his stomach.
When the two coworkers left, Schmeil took a seat beside Ziva on the couch. He patted her knee, unsure of where all her injuries lie. He felt the inner turmoil rolling around inside of her.
After soaking in his presence, Ziva was the first to break the silence. "He is upset with me, Schmeil. And I do not know how to fix it."
Schmeil did not like seeing Ziva struggle with her emotions. He knew she had done her fair share already in her short lifetime. However, if a relationship was in the cards for her and Tony, he knew he needed to choose bluntness over coddling right now. "Understand Ziva. What you did to Tony is very similar to what your father did to you."
Ziva's head snapped around, her mouth agape and her eyes stony, not expecting the figurative slap to the face. "How dare you compare me with him!" she spat.
He did not give her time to rant, cutting her off almost immediately. "You kept him in the dark to protect, out of love, while your father kept you in the dark to gain a strategic advantage. Love for your soulmate versus love for one's country." Gently, Schmeil continued, "You became increasingly upset with your father every time you found out another deception, another way you were being used. He would say that his reasons were justifiable for the love of his country. You, I have no doubt, would claim your deception was justifiable for the love of Tony and the others you care deeply for. But no matter what the reason behind deception, seeds of resentment are still planted. Your intentions were honorable, but the methods were deceitful. The two do not blend well. It reached a point with your father in which his intentions could no longer justify his actions, and that resentment could not be overcome. His sins became too great. Be careful that does not happen with Tony. Love and resentment do not lie well together in one's heart."
Ziva stared angrily at the ground like a scolded child. Knowing Ziva since childhood, Schmeil was confident he knew whom the anger was directed toward. Minutes passed, and with them, so too did the storm clouds thundering within Ziva. Her hard stare was overtaken with resignation. In a voice barely more than a whisper, Ziva admitted, "You are right. I became like my father. I tried… I tried to change. But, when the time came, I went right back to my old life. How did I not see it Schmeil? Why did I not prevent it?"
"Do not mistake self-preservation with relapse my dear. You used your skills to defend yourself, as you should have. There is no shame in that, and it does not mean that all of the progress you made was for not." Schmeil took both of her hands in his. "Ziva. You had been conditioned to place what is most important first. At one time that was your country. Your father made sure that you were trained to think of yourself last, to put all else above your wants, and often your needs. But, my dear Ziva, that all changed when you joined NCIS. And, I for one, will forever be in their debt for giving you the love you so deserved." He pulled one hand back and shook a finger at Ziva. "And that love my dear, is now what you place first, as it should be. But, with love can come clouded judgments. Remember, 'If you tell the truth, it becomes a part of your past. If you lie, it becomes a part of your future.' Move forward Ziva. Make this right, learn from the experience so it is not repeated." He patted her hands before rising. "Now this old man needs a stroll. Twelve hours on a plane and the joints are protesting quite profusely. I will merely walk up and down the hallway so as not to be too far from you. And I have Tony's spare key to let myself back in."
Schmeil turned to go when her voice reached out. "Thank you, Schmeil."
He nodded and smiled. "Sit and rest dear."