I Am Damaged Goods

"The lights go out all around me
One last candle to keep out the night
And then the darkness surrounds me
I know I'm alive
But I feel like I died
And all that's left is to accept that it's over
My dreams ran like sand through the fists that I made
I try to keep warm but I just grow colder
I feel like I'm slipping away."

-Superchick, Beauty from Pain

Walking through the glass doors of Bethesda Naval Hospital, NCIS Special Agent Tony DiNozzo cast a glance over his shoulder to those following him. Abigail Scuito and Timothy McGee were silent upon entering the hospital.

"Let me do the talking." He said to them, and neither had the spirit to argue. Tony's voice didn't have the same teasing quality that it always did; he sounded drained. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ducky and Palmer rise from the hard, plastic hospital chairs they were sitting on in the waiting room to join him in his procession to the front desk.

"NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo." His voice didn't leave room for compromise as he addressed the secretary. He flashed his badge but did not sport the customary smile. Behind him and to his side, they – Abby, McGee, Ducky, and Palmer – flashed badges as well.

"What can I do for you, Agent DiNozzo?" The woman asked. She appeared to be in her late thirties; she had blonde hair and dark brown eyes.

"We're here to see Ziva David." He over pronounced her last name, dare this secretary spoke it wrong. She set her fingers to the keyboard, typing the name and pushing up her glasses.

"She's got an hour before surgery." The secretary said. DiNozzo read her nametag on the green scrubs – Nicole. "I can only allow two of you in to see her. Protocol applies even for NCIS agents." She looked apologetic.

Even so, Tony opened his mouth to argue. Ducky, however, placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Giving it a squeeze, he said, "Tony, Abigail, why don't the two of you head over." He smiled gently. "She responded well to you before." He explained. "And some positivity from you, Abigail, could not hurt her."

Nicole looked to them, a question in her eyes. McGee couldn't help but note how tired she appeared to be, stray blonde hairs falling from the sides of a messy bun. There were circles under her dark eyes. "Yeah, Tony." He said, ushering his hand forward in a 'go on' motion. "Palmer, Ducky, and I can wait." He released his grip on Abby's hand.

Palmer nodded. "I can wait." He tried to smile, and failed.

"That's settled then." Tony said, putting his arm around Abby's shoulders, a smile failing him as well. "Let's go see Ziva."

--

"Gibbs."

The man in question turned towards the voice coming from the hospital bed. Ziva David blinked slowly, drowsy, making sure it was still her boss, that he hadn't transformed when she hadn't been looking. He could see her struggle with this new found dependence, it played out in her eyes. In that way, she reminded him of himself – he didn't go around letting others help him, or explaining his feelings. The occasion was rare. She needed somebody, Gibbs could see that. She was hurting. Ziva was afraid.

And her partner was beating himself up for it.

Her capture's fault could have laid with any of his team. He blamed himself, for not having been the one providing back-up.

Tony, however, had been right for the part.

She'd been undercover as an unfaithful wife of a marine – nothing she hadn't done before. Tony had played the part of her husband. She'd gone missing from the house they'd been working in, O'Neil had been watching the house. Tony had been knocked unconscious in the struggle, completely unable to stop the criminal from capturing his partner.

Gibbs had only been two blocks down, and had never received the call – for it had never been made. When he'd checked in with them – three times – and received no answer – he'd checked in with them and found an unconscious DiNozzo. By the time an ambulance had arrived – which Tony profusely refused – Gibbs knew with certainty that the former Mossad officer had been kidnapped.

They had fifty six hours. They knew this from the previous murders and kidnappings.

Looking towards her now, he realized not for the first time just how close they'd come to that deadline. Eight hours more, and she'd have been lost.

"I'm still here." He assured her.

She swallowed, dizzy. "That's …good." The words didn't seem right to her. She closed her eyes, annoyed by the oxygen tube.

"Boss." The word came from the doorway of room G103, Ziva's hospital room, accompanied by a quicker "Gibbs!"

"Right on time, DiNozzo." Gibbs said without turning around. "Hey, Abs."

"Ziva!" Abby cried out upon looking past Gibbs, rushing forward. She remembered, it seemed like millennia ago, when she'd hated the woman before her – or at least come as close to hate as she possibly could. She'd blamed her for Kate's death – if only she could have stopped her sooner – she remembered the cat fight in the lab. She remembered all of this, put behind them. The two of them now – she couldn't stand the thought of losing her. She couldn't lose another person. She'd almost lost Tony, then she'd lost Kate, and she'd almost lost Gibbs, too. She couldn't lose someone else.

"Hello, Abby." Ziva said, her head falling towards where the forensics analyst stood. Her words were slow. Abby wasn't entirely sure, but she thought she saw the woman's eyes flicker to Tony.

Gibbs pushed his chair back to allow the two agents to come closer, though she didn't miss his hand, held by his side, signing the word "slowly". She nodded, slowing down considerably. With both hands, she held out Bert. "I brought Bert for you." She placed the stuffed hippo down on the bedside table, her eyes on Ziva. The woman did not answer, but her eyes followed Abby. She didn't seem to have the words to answer her friend. She did, however, offer the ghost of a smile, one that could not quite be classified as actually being one.

"Ziv-"

"No…apologies, Tony." She whispered. Her throat was hoarse from the past two days.

Gibbs's lips twitched. "Hasn't anyone ever told you it's a sign of weakness?" He turned his head over his shoulder to look at the younger man, who had his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders closer to his ears than normal. Tony thought, but was not quite sure, that he caught a wink from Gibbs.

A knock came at the door to the room, each agent turned to find a tall middle-aged man standing there, wearing a white lab coat with two black stick pens in the front pocket. Tony looked from that man, obviously a doctor, towards Ziva.

"Doctor Jason Jordan," He introduced himself with a tight lipped smile. "I'm an anesthesiologist."

After years at the job, he could tell who was in charge in a group. His eyes landed on Gibbs, nodding to the man. To Ziva and Gibbs, he began to explain what was to occur. Abby edged closer to Tony, who was leaning against the far wall, in view of Ziva. It hadn't been Abby's imagination: Ziva's eyes kept drifting back to him.

After Dr. Jordan had placed a mask over Ziva's mouth and nose, she began to get drowsy faster, her eyes drifting open and close. Without asking permission, Tony moved closer to the bedside. Ziva's eyes – when opened – were still on him. "We'll be here when you get back, promise." He told her, offering a smile.

Her lips moved, silently, and Tony cocked his head to the side, not understanding. The woman in question did not have time to explain – after her silently spoken words, her eyes slipped shut. Dr. Jordan, ready to wheel her into the OR, ushered them out – he'd already made enough exceptions that day.

They were silent when walking back down the hallway towards the emergency room. While Gibbs was pressing the button for the elevator, Abby was slowly shaking her head. "I don't understand-" she murmured, and turned to Tony.

"Abby-"

"No, not that." She said, shaking her head again. She furrowed her brow. "I mean, yeah, don't understand any of this – who does? – but what she said."

Tony looked at her for a moment. "You understood what she said? "

She nodded, her eyes confused. "I read lips." It didn't come as a surprise to him. "But I must have read hers wrong."

"What did she say, Abs?" Gibbs asked, hearing the approaching ding of the elevator, waiting to carry them back towards the emergency room.

"Why would she say 'my hairy little butt?'"

TBC

Author's Note:

I couldn't resist that little bit of fluffery at the end of it. I do hope you enjoyed it – I got a review last chapter asking me what the point was, of putting Ziva through this. Besides telling you that you have to read to understand, I guess – it's that, after Somalia, yes, she was broken. But she wasn't ready to fully let them help her. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this again – and yes, the next chapter will be up soon. If you have any suggestions, feel free to suggest away!

Please, review. Give me your opinions. I want to know what you feel about the chapter!

-SSW