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Also: Sorry if my rudimentary hebrew is completely wrong and offends anyone, please feel free to correct me.
jae
Seven
On the seventh day, she learns about the physical reminders that will never let her escape a painful past.
It didn't occur to her earlier that day, though in retrospect, maybe it should have.
It was late in the afternoon. Ziva, still on orders to not participate in any physically demanding activities, had been growing increasingly restless without being able to find release in any of the exercise her body has grown accustomed to through her entire life. In an effort to de-stress, as well as do something healthy for her body, she resorted to laying out a yoga mat she had uncovered in their bedroom and dedicated an hour to all the yoga stretches her mind could recall.
About thirty minutes into her routine, she heard a shuffling of feet on carpet, and opened her eyes, a reprimand on the tip of her tongue, expecting it to be Tony again coming to leer at her exercise attire; or rather, lack there-of. But her frown morphed into a pleasant smile as she discovered Piper; blanket in tow, her hair haphazardly thrown into a pony tail that was already coming undone.
She grinned at her mother and held up her blanket.
"Tistakel! I do yogas too wif ya momma?"
Ziva chuckled and nodded her head.
"Ken, tatehleh. But first, let us fix your hair."
Soon after that, yoga turned into laughing at Piper, who continued to laugh every time she attempted to imitate what Ziva was doing. After about twenty minutes, Ziva and Piper collapsed onto Ziva's bed, and Piper had crawled onto her mother's back and was now attempting to twist Ziva's hair into the same french braid her mother had replaced her hand-made ponytail into low on her head.
"Gamur!" Piper exclaimed enthusiastically from her perch on Ziva's back, patting Ziva's head with a giggle. She let her hands fall and started tracing the exposed spans of Ziva's back. Ziva chuckled, and they sat there in silence peacefully; Ziva resting her eyes, and Piper tracing her back with her tiny fingers. The peace was disrupted shortly, however, when Tony wandered into the bedroom. Evidently, Piper had been evading his attempts to put her in the bathtub, and had sought refuge with her mother. Piper, sensing her impending capture, lowered her head to gingerly kiss her mother's back. Though confused by the gesture, it soon slipped from Ziva's mind as she watched Tony approach the giggling toddler and quickly scoop her into his arms to carry her out of the room towards the hall bathroom.
Once she heard the sounds of laughter and water running, Ziva stretched and decided to finally entertain the long, hot bath she had been craving.
oOo
As she began preparing for her bath, her reflection in the mirror caught her attention. She'd bathed before today, but the steam from her showers had left the mirrors fogged, and, though unwilling to admit it to herself, she had been avoiding looking at her reflection too closely, afraid of the differences she would see in her face from the last fifteen or so years. But with her back exposed, saved for her sports bra, to the mirror, her curiosity overruled her aversion, and her eyes widened as she took in the golden expanse of her back.
Her heart began beating at a rapid tempo as she took in the faded scars and abrasions marring her tanned skin. These marks, and so many, zig zagged, cut, and scoured her back, and for the life of her she couldn't begin to fathom what had caused them. Breathing deeply to calm herself, her rational side appeased her; noticing that these marks, whatever they were from, were quite faded, and weren't as sinister looking as they must have been originally. Still, she could not keep her mind from conjuring up different scenarios in which she had come to acquire them.
Piper's gestures from earlier now making more sense, Ziva drained the tub and made her way back to her bed; any desire for her bath gone.
oOo
Some time later, when the room had steadily grown darker as the sun set and night fell, Tony cracked open the door to their bedroom, and took in the sight of Ziva curled up on the bed, yoga attire still present.
She heard him step into the room, closing the door quietly, and the dip in the mattress indicated he had sat down near her feet on the edge of the bed.
Without preamble, Tony asked lightly, "Do all ninjas share the same aversion to baths?"
Ziva turned her head to face him, humoring him with a small smile. A master in the many faces and emotions of Ziva David, Tony realized he had missed something.
"What's up?' He never claimed he was a master of providing emotional comfort.
Ziva was silent for a few moments, as though she was considering how to word her question. Giving up, she uttered her question quietly.
"The scars," A pause, "What am I not remembering . . . Tony?"
The way his face darkens makes her stomach drop and him unrecognizable.
"Piper said nothing the whole day; what does she know? There was no way she did not see-"
"Piper knows nothing," He cuts her off, "She just knows that they're there. And she doesn't mind them - stopped asking questions a long time ago." He says curtly.
Ziva pauses as relief floods through her briefly. "Tony . . ." She swallows, "What happened?"
Stealing himself for the explanation that's about to come, he grasps hold of her hand and looks hard at the opposite wall.
"Summer of 2009. The summer you exceeded and maxed out your damsel in distress quota. I've never liked those kinds of movies."
oOo
That, out of every memory, was the one he wished she's forever be able to forget.
Any memory that had to do with sand, hell-like heat, unforgiving deserts, and caf-pow swigging terrorists named Salim.