She looks at him. The honesty, and caring in his eyes reminds her that he's always going to have her back. His smile reminds her that he was the one person who was never going to hurt her. He had proven himself. People could say that they would go to the ends of the earth, for her, but few of them truly meant it. He had come for her, even when there was no hope of finding her. He was always going to be there for her. He wasn't going to betray her. He had earned her trust, and he knew how important it was to keep.
In their daily life, chasing down murderers, it was easy to forget the important things in life. It was easy to take for granted, the relationship they had. Together they were an unstoppable force, apart they were just two pieces. Two pieces useless, without the other. Just two people, with one mission. Best friends, who would never allow anything to tear them apart, because it was what was the foundation of their friendship that was the most important thing in the world.
Finally she makes the decision. He waits in silence, as her brown eyes lock on to him. He senses that she believes him. That she is finally ready to reveal part of the story to him. It was time for her to finally show him some of the broken pieces that made up the person she had become. The person who could take a life, without a second thought, but no longer did. Someone he could trust, with his life. Someone who he could always count on. His best friend. His partner. He was the mast, and she was the sails. Without her, his life had little meaning, and no direction.
Finally she breaks the silence. "I learned not to scream."
"In Somalia?"
She tries to block out the images, but it is impossible. Her gift had always been her curse. A photographic memory that was not selective. It just took pictures, and she couldn't stop it, or erase them. She had no control over it. She had control over this though. She plays some of the picture in her mind, and then answers.
"I did not want to give them the satisfaction, of screaming. Screaming was like applause to them. It only fueled the fire inside of them. I learned not to scream."
"Now you can't?"
She shrugs, "I don't want to."
"You know that at some point you have to get your voice back, right?"
"Yes. It has taken far longer than I expected. The past is the past, but that doesn't make it go away. It just makes it farther away."
He points to her burger, "Are you going to finish that?"
"If you touch my food I will cut your finger off," she warns.
"It's going to get cold."
"You interrupted me."
"I'm sorry. Please continue."
"I will."
"You think that Gibbs is going to be upset with us, for missing work?"
"Are you afraid of him?"
"Not anymore. He's getting soft in his old age."
"I disagree."
"Did you have to tell him that we had the flu, though?"
"What did you want me to tell him? The truth?"
"No, but now I feel like I have a tickle, in my throat."
She rolls her eyes, and returns to her burger.
Hours later he lies on her couch. She lies on the floor. She exhales, and he hears the snot fly out of her nose. He hands a tissue down to her.
"Thanks," she proceeds to blow.
"I blame you."
She wipes her nose, and throws the tissue in the bag full of used tissues.
"For what?"
"Making us sick," he coughs.
"I didn't make us sick," she argues.
"Who should I blame? Karma?"
"Maybe."
"Do you have a thermometer?"
"In the medicine cabinet," she answers.
He rolls off the couch, and steps over her. She lies on her back, on the floor, next to the couch. He wonders into her bathroom, and grabs a thermometer. When he doesn't return within a minute she begins to get concerned.
"Are you still alive in there? You didn't cough up a lung did you?"
He returns to the living room.
"I don't think this thing can possible be right," he tells her.
"Why what did it say?"
"102.3"
Her hand flies up. "Let me see it."
He drops it into her palm. She wipes it off, with her sleeve.
"Oh, now you're concerned about germs? We're both sick. We've swapped spit, and bodily fluids, I don't think a little bit more is going to hurt you."
She puts the thermometer in her mouth. It takes nearly a minute, before it beeps. Tony stands over her.
"Well?" he questions.
"102.8," she replies.
"Maybe it's right. I feel like I'm boiling."
"I'm freezing."
"Really? I never would have guessed."
She looks at her attire. She had pulled on a pair of gym shorts, and a t-shirt when before he came back with lunch. Over that she was wearing a pair of sweats pants, and a hoodie, and wool socks.
"We must be really sick," he tells her.
"Let's get some sleep. We'll feel better when we wake up."
"Are you going to sleep on the floor?"
"I'm too tired to move."
"Suit yourself," he flips off the light, and climbs onto the couch.
An hour later she wakes herself up, coughing. She has to roll onto her side, to catch her breath. Tony sits up, and looks at her.
"You ok?"
"No," she admits.
"I think we should go to the," before he can finish he starts coughing.
He doesn't even finish his sentence. When she stops coughing she pushes herself off the floor, and grabs her car keys off the coffee table. A few moments pass, and his coughing stops too.
"Come on, let's go," she insists.
He slowly gets off the couch, and joins her at the door. "Coming."
She drives them to the local E.R. Where they wait for over an hour. Finally she is able to charm a doctor into seeing them. They are ushered into an exam room, together. He examines both of them. He listens to their lungs, and then tells them what he thinks.
"I'm going to send the two of you to x-ray."
"For what?" Tony questions.
"I think you've got pneumonia."
"Great, just great."
Twenty minutes later a nurse returns to their room, after they have returned from x-ray. The nurse hands them each prescriptions.
"You guys have pneumonia. The prescriptions are for an antibiotic, and some medicated cough syrup, that will help you sleep. The note is excusing you from work for the next five days."