Hi all! So, I, in no way, anticipated this turn in the story when I started out a few months back. But, that's where it has taken me. I hope you all are ok with it. Also, I know it is a little shorter than most of the other chapters, but it seemed like a good stopping point. Hope you enjoy! Oh, yeah, mistakes - all mine.
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Tony pulled the door all but shut. He walked heavily toward the living room, exhaustion once again consuming him. Sinking into the buttery leather, he rested his head on the back of the couch. Gibbs had seen himself out after Ziva went to bed and after Tony promised to be a complete gentleman. Schmeil walked in a moment later, two steaming mugs in hand, the faint smell of lemon and honey wafting in the air. Tony didn't lift his head, couldn't lift his head, but rather looked down his nose. "I don't think Ziva will be drinking tea tonight, Schmeil."
"Ahhh. I too doubt this. One of these is for you, Tony."
"Thanks Schmeil, but that's not my usual drink of choice."
"You've had a stressful day. This will help," Schmeil reassured, offering one of the mugs. Now Tony did lift his head, hesitantly reaching for the steaming liquid. "So our Ziva is asleep. Good," he said turning to take a seat in the matching chair across from the couch.
"Snoring like a chainsaw taking down the Siberian forest. I think the pain meds actually make it worse." Tony took a sip of his tea, giving a surprised and appreciative, "Hmmp. Not bad actually. Maybe Ziva's on to something."
Schmeil grinned. "I doubt this is her exact penchant. Honey and a small shot of whiskey are the key ingredients."
"Two of my favorites." He took another small sip. "Key, huh?" A silence hung between the two. Tony produced Ziva's key from his pocket and held it up. "What can you tell me about this key, Schmeil?"
The older man gave a heavy sigh, his true age actually showing through his normally jovial exterior. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight, Tony? You could use some rest."
"I haven't slept through a night since I don't remember when. My imagination begins to run wild with possibilities, and I can't shut it down. Or, I wake in the middle of the night drenched in sweat from the most recent nightmare. Ziva missing. Ziva being tortured. Ziva comatose. Ziva dead. Then she lets this key for me, and once again I'm imagining." Tony sat up and leaned forward. "I need answers, Schmeil. I'm tired, yes. Of the what-ifs. Of the not knowing."
Schmeil mirrored Tony's posture. "She told me she was going to tell you. And to be honest, I am not sure her motivation behind why she didn't, other than fear and pain." Another pause. "I'm not sure I should be the one to share her… experiences."
Tony fisted his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees. "Please."
"You may have one very upset Ziva on your hands in the morning," Schmeil warned. He knew he may be crossing a line with Ziva's trust, but he also wanted to help the couple get past some of the rough waters he knew churned ahead. Taking a long sip of the warm liquid, he contemplated how to tell Tony what happened months ago. "About two months after you and Ziva parted, she was finally close to settling her father's estate. She just needed to meet one more time with Eli's lawyer and everything would be finalized. They agreed to meet over dinner. However, Ziva was not feeling well that morning. As the day progressed, what started out as mild abdominal discomfort grew to sharp, severe pain. She cancelled the meeting, drove herself to the emergency room, and was soon after admitted." Schmeil paused, knowing Tony was not going to like the next part.
"And…?" Tony prompted.
A heavy sigh escaped Schmeil. "She miscarried, Tony," Schmeil all but whispered.
Tony's face paled as his mouth fell open. He turned and looked at the bedroom door as if he could see the sleeping figure on the other side. Had he heard correctly? Did the one time that they gave themselves completely to each other when he was in Israel really result in a child? "What? She was pregnant? No, that can't be right."
"I'm afraid it was, Tony."
He looked then at the ceiling, a myriad of emotions tying Tony's insides up. Regret. Anger. Sorrow. But it was the grief that caused his eyes to well. Grief for a child he never knew about. When he found his voice again, he asked, "And she didn't know? Were you there?"
Schmeil's own emotions were raw. "It was a complete shock to her. And, no, I was not there. No one was, Tony. She went in alone and came home alone. I did not know until I went to visit a few days afterward to check how her meeting with the lawyer had gone." He took another sip of the now tepid liquid, wishing it were stronger.
Alone. "Why didn't she tell me?" Tony gave voice to the same question Schmeil had.
"I don't know. I honestly thought she had." Schmeil again paused before sharing his hypothesis. "When I stayed with her after finding out, she said that she would have to tell you, that you deserved to know. Then, her father's estate was finalized, and she found herself with a substantial amount of wealth. However, she had no one to share it with, and no family to leave it to. Having chased the man she was completely in love with away, and having just sustained the devastating loss of a child, Ziva found herself utterly alone, blamed herself for everything, and entered into a deep depression. She sought professional help, but only attended two sessions, joking that there wasn't enough bourbon or sawdust." Both men grinned, but Tony's fell away quickly. "I believe she buried the loss quite deeply."
"I didn't know, Schmeil." Tony's voice carried a heavy sadness.
"And you wouldn't, now would you. We both know if there is something our Ziva does not want us to know, then we never will." Schmeil raised the mug to his lips, taking another long sip. After, he stared at the remaining contents.
Tony glared at the key in his hand, still unsure how this fit into the mystery. "And this?" he asked holding it up once again.
"She set out across Europe, seeking redemption and solace. She had no plan really. But, before leaving, Ziva had a will written." Tony remained silent, waiting for the tale to continue. "She sought me out, seeking my opinion on what to do. She wanted to leave it to someone that she loved and who would treasure everything the way she had. Ziva was worried what you would think about her decision having not been married. I tried to explain to her that marriage is not a piece of paper, rather a commitment to your other half, and that she had already promised that commitment to a man that loves her very much. After some more discussion, she decided to name you as sole beneficiary. Her hope was that in doing so, you would always have a piece of her if something should happen. That key is to a safe deposit box located in a bank here in DC. Another key, buried in a location I know you are familiar with, leads to a box in an Israeli bank. Both hold identical copies of the will. Ziva was always thorough," Schmeil ended, a bit tongue-in-cheek.
Several minutes of silence followed, broken by Schmeil when he asked, "Are you ok, Tony?"
Tony met the man's concerned gaze. "I think you were right… I could use some rest." Tony stood and approached Schmeil, extending his hand. "Thank you for coming… and for sharing. Please stay as long as you need, Schmeil."
Tony turned toward his bedroom, the door's hinges protesting slightly as he pushed it open. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the jam, staring at Ziva's sleeping form. She looked so peaceful curled on her side, one hand under the pillow and the other resting on top, in front of her face. He wondered how someone could endure as much as she had in her short lifetime. She was strong yet fragile. When the time came to discuss all that had happened recently and the revelations that Schmeil shared tonight, he would have to remember to handle her gently. More so than he has recently.
Tony proceeded to the linen closet and retrieved an extra pillow and blanket, returning to the couch as quietly as possible. Schmeil was no longer in the living area and Tony assumed he had turned in for the evening as well. Tony's body was screaming exhaustion, but his mind raced with the recent information gleaned from Schmeil. He and Ziva indeed had much to discuss.