Season Finale Tonight!
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, CBS, and Shane Brennan do.
But let's get to the story, huh?
Rule 29:
Ziva woke to feeling of not having her daughter lay on her chest; she sat up and looked around the now dark room. She could still, make out the crisp, white crib in the corner. She groggily rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stood up. She opened the door to the main room where Gibbs was sitting on the couch eating a slice of pizza.
He looked over at her and gave a small nod, "Want some?" he asked as she sat beside him, her leg tucked underneath. Ziva shook her head, "No. I am fine."
Gibbs shrugged, "I figured you wouldn't be up for another couple of hours." Gibbs said. Ziva looked at one of the clocks in the room, "It's eight o' clock."
Gibbs nodded, "Thought you might get hungry."
Ziva shook her head again, "No, I-I wanted to know where my daughter was." Gibbs bit into the pizza again, "She's always with someone." Gibbs murmured. Ziva sighed and picked up a slice, she bit into it hungrily. There was a knock at the door and Gibbs got up to answer it, "Yes?" He asked, as he saw an unfamiliar face in front of him.
"I'm Doctor Cranston, Director Vance sent me." The middle aged woman explained. Gibbs furrowed his eyebrows at her, "For Ms. David," she finished. Gibbs glanced back at the couch where Ziva once lay, it was now empty now. "Um, I don't think now is a very good time." Gibbs said softly.
Dr. Cranston stepped inside closer, "I am following orders."
"Well, when you've been in a hell hole for almost a year, then you can talk." Gibbs growled. Dr. Cranston sighed, "Can I please just do my job?"
Gibbs opened the door wider, allowing her to walk in, as he tried to keep his mouth shut. "Hi, Ziva, I'm Dr. Cranston." The woman said as she walked over to the couch. The hand she held out was not touched, only Ziva watched it carefully, before it was quickly retracted.
Dr. Cranston sat in the chair next to the couch and pulled out a notepad, "Director Vance sent me." She explained, not bothering to glance up from her notes. "So…why are doing this again?" Ziva asked carefully. Dr. Cranston looked up, "Because, you were just in recent trauma."
Ziva shrugged, "I highly doubt that was trauma." She murmured.
Dr. Cranston licked her lips, "So then tell me what happened." She ordered. Ziva shifted in her seat, "Okay, now that's a little-." Gibbs started.
"No, No, it is fine. I am used to being ordered around. Taken advantage of." She said glumly.
Somalia: Eleven Months Back….
The room she stays in is very dirty, the sand that blows in from the window above stings her eyes, but it is the only way she can tell what time of day it is, for that she is lucky. The prisoners below her have nothing but pitch darkness, how her captors find her way down there, bewilders her.
Still, she can hear their screams, their screams of sorrow and pain. Suddenly the door flies open and Saleem and two of his men walk in, all their shirts off, rope drawn on their waists. "Ah, my beauty, how are you today?" Saleem asks as he runs his dirty finger against her chin, she pulls away, and kicks him.
He smirks and slaps her face, "That was not very…nice." He slithers. She does not answer, and he shrugs,
"But that does not matter, the day has finally come."
The two men step closer pulling the rope from their waist, preparing to tie her, she knows, she hears the other women; she does not want to be like them.
"How do prefer?" Saleem asks. She smiles, "Standing." She says seductively. He grins and helps her up, "Perhaps the rope was not-." Before he can finish she takes off down the hall, running, dashing. "Whoever catches her, will be…" she doesn't hear the rest, she is too far gone.
She has think quickly where to hid, suddenly something pulls her shirt, or what is left out it and pulls her into a room. Before she has the chance to scream, he covers her mouth, and turns her to face him. His eyes are a yellow color, his once sandy brown hair is now brown with dirt, his clothes are torn and his face is cut.
"Don't scream." He whispers.
"I won't hurt you, I know you don't want to raped." He continues as he releases her mouth. She relaxes some, "You can hide, over there," he points in a corner. "There's a hole in the wall, not very deep but I think you'll fit." He explains. She continues to stare at him, "Trust me." He pleads.
She glances at him once more before walking over and bending over and crawling into the hole. She fits barely enough and curls up tightly. "But, don't worry they hardly comes in here anymore." He murmurs, she hears his feet shuffle on the ground. Soon, he sits on the floor and throws stones at the wall, suddenly; they both hear shouting and screaming from down the hall, Saleem ordering his men.
"Check in there! Check everywhere! Find her you fools!" he cries. Their stomps and smashing, tear through the hall, while she holds her breath. Once they are gone she exhales, still she does not move. The door to the room slowly opens and she can make out a pair of familiar boots walking inside, "You are here to suffer, not throw rocks!" Saleem hisses.
"Can I have a book?" the man asks. Saleem kicks his legs, "Do I look like a library?" he roars. The man shrugs, "Well, I mean you kinda got that whole skin tone going on."
"Shut up!" Saleem orders, the man quiets. "A woman, she has come by here, has she not?" Saleem questions, "A woman? Nope! Haven't seen one, now you on the other hand…"
Saleem chuckles, "You are a horrible liar."
"I am?" the man asks, shocked.
"I can see her footprints in the sand; she is in that hole in the corner of this room." Saleem says walking closer and closer toward the hole, her breath hitches, and she attempts to scoot back. Instead, he grabs her foot before she can move any closer, and yanks her out into the light. "There you are," Saleem murmurs, his finger rubbing against her cheek.
"Aye! Don't touch my girlfriend!" The man shouts.
Saleem turns around, "You?"
"Me." Her savior, the man of which she still does not know his name says as he stands up. "You expect me to let you sleep with my prisoner?" Saleem chuckles. "I do not think so."
The rest of Saleem's men rush in, and smile at the scene, "What is going to happen sir?" one asks. Saleem places his thumb on his chin, "Since he insists that this is his girlfriend," Saleem smirks.
"Then, this, Elijah, person….must do what I was going to do….forcefully."
'Elijah, a beautiful name,' she thought, "Or I kill him." Saleem finishes. "No!" Ziva shouts. "Kill me." Elijah says. "Either way, one of us is going to suffer, and I'd rather it'd be me."
"Elijah!" Ziva hisses. Saleem grabs her forearm, and nods to a man; he pulls a large gun from his back pocket and squarely shoots Elijah in each joint, before finally the head. His body falls to the floor, blood spilling along the ground.
Saleem forcefully pushes her onto the ground before climbing on top of her, "And since you hid…"
She feels the blood ooze through her shirt and pants, along with her hair. He removes her clothes before smiling at her evilly, "And who would like to go after me?"
She bites back multiple screams, all she does the entire time is stare at Elijah's dead body that lay beside her.
"So, you did have relations with your captor?" Dr. Cranston asked. "Against my will!" Ziva cried. "You think I wanted him or any of his friends to rape me next to a dead body, someone who tried to help me? Have his blood in my hair? On my backside? No! I did not actually! I didn't want him to do anything to me; I especially didn't want him to kill my child!" Ziva said, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I thought your child was in your bedroom," Dr. Cranston asked pointing toward the bedroom. "Michael's child." She murmured.
"Who is Michael?"
Ziva wiped her face, "Who cares? He's dead anyway!" she shouted before running into her bedroom and slamming the door shut and locking it tightly.
Gibbs sighed, "Got a new rule, Rule Number Twenty Nine: Never ever involve therapists."