A/N: This chapter is a little T-PLUS for some mentions of what happened to Ziva in Somilia otherwise...

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS, those people at the end of credits do.

Trust Is Definitely An Issue:

"Boss, you know I can explain-"Tony said quickly as he rushed into the hotel room.

Gibbs stood up from the couch and looked at him sternly.

"She's sick." He stated.

Tony nodded, "I-I know, we should, you know really get her some help."

Gibbs shook his head, "That too. But I mean she really is sick." He said in direction to her bedroom, where clearly the sound of vomiting was heard.

"How?" Tony asked.

"What exactly did she have?" Gibbs asked.

Tony's eyes drifted to the ground, "The question is what she didn't have."

"DiNozzo, think this through. She's been you know, elsewhere for months and you decided to shove almost everything down her mouth." Gibbs said.

"You were fine with it when we left." Tony argued.

"I didn't think she would A.) Come back here crying and screaming and then nearly throw a lamp at me. Or B.) That she would get sick."

"Why'd she throw a lamp at you?" Tony asked.

"She said, 'Because, you Razul, are too close, to close to everything, to me and my daughter. Do not go get Saleem and I will not hurt you.'"

She was practically pale in her opinion.

She had a severe headache that made her vision blur, here and there.

But she could not complain.

She was only happy, for her daughter was safe now.

No one could touch her, not even him.

'Who is him?' a voice in her head, her conscience, really, reminded her.

She hated that thing, she used to always ask her mother why everybody had one, it did no good.

She sat down on the end of the bed and rested her sweaty forehead in her palms.

"Not now. No." she muttered to herself. "Not now. Not another."

A Time That Is Not Which Recorded In Her Mind

She does not know the date.

Hell, she doesn't even know if the year is the same.

All she knew was their routine.

Early, just as the sun would start to rise a small elderly woman would come and set a half size piece of bread and a small cup of water in front of her.

She would give Ziva an upturned face before standing in the doorway muttering.

"All you have to do is tell him what you know." She always says.

Ziva would roll her eyes and pick up a nearby, and layaway stone from the wall.

As usual, she hits the woman square in the chest, but the woman does not budge.

She simply glares at her and then turns on her way, to the other prisoners.

"Who says I have any information!" Ziva would on occasion, call.

Once the bread was gone, and she still had a few sips of water left, Saleem would come through those doors kick over anything that was left on her plate, and would do anything in his will power to make her break.

So far, he'd had no such luck.

Eventually after becoming frustrated, he would slap her hard two times on both cheeks before storming out.

Maybe an hour or later, since all she could go one was the sun, another woman, she was much kinder than the bitter older woman who arrived in the morning, would arrive.

She would place the tray closer towards Ziva, but not invading her space, too much.

She would give her a small smile; leave something extra on the tray before sneaking out.

Ziva would eat most of the food rather slowly, cautious as to who might come in next.

Then, as if, watching her, two of Saleem's men would barge in.

One, the one who was the coward and would hold her down.

The other, she guessed was Saleem's oldest son.

She could tell by his eyes and his mouth, and the way he ran a finger over her cheek.

She soon passed out before she could remember anything else.

…

She would wake, and find him sitting in front of her.

Criss-cross, his legs were. His hand slowly petting her hair.

She would look around groggily and sit up.

The sky would be dark, and her supposed, 'dinner' would lie by the door.

Saleem would smile and run a dirty finger over her cheek once more, "Hello, my pretty."

She often retracted from his touch.

"Did, Sima, do a good job?" he asked.

Ziva blinked and rubbed her eyes, "I would think, a man, like you, would name your son after you."

Saleem chuckled, "My wi…Sima's mother suggested otherwise."

She used to ask, 'Why are you here.' But after a while it was a waste of breath that she desperately needed.

"Do you know what the date is?" Saleem asked, suddenly a changed in conversation, an upset in the schedule, like how her stomach felt right now.

"No." Ziva said cautiously.

Saleem grinned, but as a knock came to the door he turned his head in direction.

The bitter old woman walked in, with a bundle of blue in her arms.

"It is a boy." She murmured as she passed the baby to him.

Saleem smiled down at the boy, "A little boy."

"Saleem, the mother…" the woman trailed off before glancing at Ziva.

Ziva looked between the two, and then Saleem looked at her.

He handed the baby back to the woman and tore Ziva's shirt, from top to bottom, exposing her to the two of them.

Ziva attempted to push him away but as usual, she was overpowered.

"What are you doing?" she shouted.

Saleem gripped her chin tightly, in between his thumb and fore finger.

"You are a woman. You have breasts. My son will need to be fed. You will do it." He ordered.

"And who says I will?" Ziva hissed.

He shoved her forcefully against the stone wall and she hit her head.

Saleem's face tightened and he stood up, he whispered something in the old woman's ear, but loud enough for Ziva to hear.

"Two meals a day. My men and I," he grinned, "Will break her the rest of the time."

Saleem glanced back at her, "In the meantime, train my son with her…if she resists, move it down to one. There are other mutts here."

That became the new schedule, every three hours she was woken against her will to be prodded for food against her will.

And since she did not resist anymore, even though she wasn't producing any milk at the time, Saleem did not keep all of his threat.

He and his men did not come and 'break her' instead she barely saw him now.

Saleem had ordered the elderly woman that Ziva be given the scraps along with three other meals, if she were to feed his son.

As she became more accustomed to the schedule, and she was often in pain from her now sore full breasts, she had to think, when she realized something about herself and the baby.

The baby did not have dark black hair that Saleem and most of the women had here.

His hair at only a month or two old, was blonde, a familiar sandy blonde. Maybe even a shade lighter. His eyes were yellow, or maybe a hazel.

"You are Elijah's child." She murmured to him one day.

The baby seemed to smile at the sound of his father's name.

She smiled for the first time since her capture, "You are Elijah's baby…his pretty little baby."

She brushed a finger against his smooth forehead.

"I think your father would have loved the name Joshua Ezra…but I think I'll just call you Kai, because, you make me smile…I can't do a lot of that here."

She kissed Kai's forehead and it formed a small bond between the two of them.

She kept the name to herself, and no longer complained about feeding the child.

Elijah gave up his life for her.

She remembered hearing something about the reason Elijah was the only one in that cell.

Elijah had gotten one of Saleem's prisoners pregnant with his child; it was all clicking into place for her. For the subject of the baby.

Her own realization about herself… scared her.

It gave her goose bumps, and chills up and down her spine.

Once a month, for about three to four days a different woman would arrive and clean up her blood.

But not this month or the month before, or the month before that… she did not have any blood. At first she figured it was because she was feeding Kai, but she hadn't had a period before Kai got here either.

She realized too that her stomach was always upset, and she vomited more than she ate.

Once she came to that realization, she never saw Kai, again.

…

She would often ask the woman who came for lunch, for a few days, what happened to him.

All she got was a small smile, and then that woman disappeared forever too.

She now, again she was alone, without anybody.

Every once and a while she would have a thought about the woman and Kai but she simply put it off.

She figured that if Kai was taken away Saleem would go back to his previous threat, but he did not.

It was as if he did not know Kai was not with her.

…

She was somewhat asleep when she was yanked up by her arm.

Her eyes flashed open and they were met by Saleem's steely glare.

"Where is he?" Saleem hissed.

"Who?" Ziva asked.

"My son. My junior." Saleem said.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ziva said.

Saleem slammed her against the wall; he shouted something in a language she did not know.

'The one I don't.' she thought to herself.

The old woman walked in with a large bulky item in her small hand.

Saleem gripped her shoulders and forced Ziva down to the floor.

"Raise your shirt." He hissed.

Ziva was about to object, when it was done for her.

"W-what are you-"

The woman pointed to the screen which caused Ziva's breath to hitch.

"I would say she is about…fourteen weeks."

"Fourteen weeks, what?" Ziva asked.

Saleem pinched her neck and she flinched and bit back a yelp.

He pointed to the screen.

"You better hope, hope to god for all I care. That child is a male. You'd better hope, or your life, along with its, is gone. Forever "

Present Time

By now, she was curled up at the top of the bed.

Tears staining her cheeks and the sheets, as she remembered the memory.

Her stomach felt the same way as it did before, as she clutched it tightly.

She heard the door to her room open and a cup of tea tinkle against the plate.

"I have…some tea, if you'd like it." Tony murmured.

Ziva sat up in the sheets and looked at him, "Who are you?"

Tony set the tea slowly down on an end table and sat against a wall to the left of her.

"My Name is Anthony Damiano DiNozzo. I was born in New York City. At 5:33 in the morning. I spent my summers in The Hamptons. My mother died when I was 8. My father sent me off to multiple boarding school, I never saw him any other time. I worked for Baltimore police for about five years. I went to NCIS after I found out my partner was a dirty cop. Gibbs helped me become an NCIS agent…and I've been your partner for almost six years and I've never…I...I'm sorry, I, let you fall."

Ziva blinked and shook her head, shaking her curls, "What? I have not fallen."

"I shouldn't have let you go. I shouldn't have let you stay in Israel."

"It was my choice." Ziva stated.

"Yeah, but now… you're not….you."

Ziva's head began spinning, as if she was caught in between two worlds, maybe three.

"I-I do not know what you are talking about." She said quickly, rubbing circles on the sides of her head.

"You're not the Ziva David who…who use to tease about everything my clothes, my hair, my…commitment issues." Tony said his voice getting softer with every word.

Ziva looked over at him, into his emerald green eyes.

She hit her head hard, "Stop, just stop. Get out! Get out! Right now!" she shouted.

"You're gonna wake Rylin." Tony said quietly.

Ziva looked over at the crib, "She is fine. Now, now leave!"

Tony shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere. So you can yell at me, hit me, shoot me. I don't care. I'm staying right here."

Ziva swallowed hard and continued to stare at him, "I-I…"

"Just lie down…relax. Nobody's gonna hurt you or Rylin. I'm not gonna let that happen." Tony said in a very comforting tone, but Ziva was having nothing of the sorts.

She simply sat there looking directly at him, barely blinking, even if her stomach felt horrible.

Finally, as she took a deep breath she closed her eyes and then reopened them.

"Can I make a request?" she asked quietly.

Tony shrugged, "Depends."

"Do not stare at me…Saleem…he used to…do the same thing…"

Tony nodded, "Okay, I can do that. I can…go and….um…"

"Why don't you go make yourself some hot chocolate?"

Tony looked at her curiously, "I just had a chocolate malt at the diner."

"A what?" Ziva asked, dazed a confused look on her face along with small dark circles under her eyes.

Tony stood up, "Okay, you're really tired."

He stood next to bed and she looked at him.

"I'm not gonna touch you…just go to sleep, you've been up for a long time."

"I am not a child."

"Déjà vu."

Ziva rubbed her forehead, "Can I have some medication?"

Tony shook his head, "I'm kinda hesitant as to what your stomach can actually take right now."

Ziva sighed, "Fine." She said as she curled up in the sheets.

"Be back." Tony said as he turned to walk towards the door.

"Tony?" Ziva called.

Tony turned around and found her sitting up in the bed again.

"Yeah, Ziva?"

"Promise?" she asked sheepishly.

Tony smiled and nodded, "Forever and Always."

I would love to know what you guys think of this chapter!