I Am Damaged Goods

"Where are we?

What the hell is going on?

The dust has just begun to fall,

Crop circles in the carpet,

Sinking, Fading,

Spin me 'round again,

And rub my eyes,

This can't be happening."

-Hide and Seek, Imogen Heap

When she closed her eyes, her world dropped away. Pieces of it, like shards of a mirror, fell just out of her grasp. Ziva David could see everything in them, reflected back at her. "That you had my back," She heard in her own voice. "You have always had my back." They were real, impossibly real, sharp and painful as a blade of a knife pressing against her skin. "You jeopardized your entire career … for what!" "For you." She tried, desperately, to cling on to these small pieces, her only sanity, though they turned out to be just like real shards of glass: the tighter she clutched them, the more it hurt. "I was just…" "Having phone sex?" Subconsciously she pushed away the more recent, grasping for the ones that she was sure of. "Ziva, can you fight?" She was not sure whether they hurt because of what they were, of what they said and implied, or for some other reason entirely. "Why are you here?" "Couldn't live without you, I guess."

She tried to let them go but they clung to her, dancing before her and just out of her reach. "I owe you, Ziva." "I'll collect." She was in a land of dreams and nightmares, peaceful and disturbing."She died alone." "We are all alone." She felt as if someone were watching her, a presence hanging on the end. "Out of all the people to find me, it had to be you."

Whatever was watching her - it wasn't threatening.

--

His hands shook; he saw each individual finger tremble violently. Anthony DiNozzo stared at his shaking hands, held a distance before his eyes. Abby's words repeated in his ears, pressing against his skull, an echo that would not end. He alone knew that she hadn't read Ziva's lips wrong. He alone knew what those words meant …

"DiNozzo! The elevator?"

His eyes snapped back to the elevator, where Gibbs had called his name. He dropped his hands back to his sides.

"I, uh-" He laughed, shortly, shaking his head quickly from side to side. He seemed to be trying to dislodge something. "I'll catch the next one, boss." Tony smiled, but it was an illusion of a smile; it was a distraction.

"Tony." Abby exclaimed, her brow furrowed, but Gibbs interrupted her with a hand on the goth's shoulder.

"Let him go, Abs." He told her.

"But, Gibbs-" She cried out, still facing her friend while the silver elevator doors closed, blocking him from their view.

"Let him go." He said again.

She turned to face him, her eyes full of questioning. "Was it something I did, Gibbs?"

He smiled gently, a different person with her than he was with anyone else. It was undeniable that she was more than just the forensics analyst to him. She was something he had lost, a ghost of a feeling that he only wished he couldn't place. "Nothing you could have possibly done." He assured her. Abby was more than the forensics analyst; she was nothing short of a daughter.

"Maybe what I said to him… what Ziva said…" She was rambling now. "I should have kept my mouth shut, Gibbs!"

"Abby-"

"Gibbs!" She responded, her eyes full of tears. "I said something wrong! I had to have! And she -" Her hands were moving in exaggerated movements; the young Goth was frantic. "She's never like this, you know that, she's really hurt!" She was taking short, fast breaths, tears threatening to fall over the edge.

And just as suddenly as her words had started, they stopped again. Abby's shoulders stooped and the tears that she'd held back cascaded down her cheeks. It was an instinct, for Gibbs to reach forward and pull the young woman into his arms, shielding her from everything outside of the elevator. One hand was clutched in the fabric of his shirt, the other over his shoulder. The agent and analyst remained in that embrace for the remainder of the eight floor elevator ride as Abby's shoulder shook uncontrollably.

Gibbs wasn't sure whether it was the ghost of a feeling, or an actuality – but he felt a single tear trek down his cheek, one that he would not admit to.

--

He was still shaking when he listened to the elevator begin its descent, and briefly entertained the notion that he was going into shock. Realizing that someone might notice the man in the NCIS windbreaker, standing stock still and staring into space in front of the closed elevator door, he shook himself again. Tony looked towards the room that he, Abby, and Gibbs had just left. He detected movement through the glass doors …

His feet were moving without his permission, moving towards room G103. His own movement surprised him as much as it would an onlooker. A myriad of feelings were racing through his veins, ones that he couldn't decipher.

There was guilt. He knew without a doubt he could have stopped this. This didn't have to have happened – it shouldn't have happened. O'Neil never should have been able to lay a finger on her.

He felt hate, rage. Not towards her, but towards O'Neil, towards the events that had transpired. And, if he had to admit it, he was enraged at himself.

There was some strange form of relief. IT was over – part of it was over, at the very least, and he was thankful for that. It might not have been the largest part, or the most important part – the most important part of it was her recovery - but part of it was behind them all the same.

But, through all of these, was one he couldn't define – or maybe didn't want to define. It raced to the top of his throat into the pit of his stomach; it was a fleeting and restless feeling.

He'd felt it before, but never like this.

He was at the door to G103 before he'd even realized it. He didn't k now what he was doing there. Tony saw two doctors inside, the ends of their white lab coats fluttering as they moved around the bed on wheels Ziva was now on. She looked so different, lying so still. She looked to him small, and fragile – but still beautiful. Tony winced, feeling that she would slap him for even thinking that.

"I am so sorry, Ziva." He broke the rule.

When she was gone, he leaned his head against the doorway, and attempted not to cry.

--

When they emerged from the elevator, nobody could tell what had occurred inside. Abby's eyes were dry as she emerged first, black hair swinging in pigtails. Gibbs followed her.

Coming back into the emergency room, they caught sight of Ducky, Palmer, and McGee sitting in one corner of the room. Ducky rose first as the two walked towards them.

"How is she, Jethro?" He spoke, concern running through his voice.

McGee rose next, looking from Gibbs to Abby and back again. "Boss?" He asked. Abby looked to Gibbs, waiting for him to speak.

"She's going into surgery to repair her leg." He said, looking at Ducky. "They managed to get her fever down some, but not enough." He'd spoken to several doctors since she'd arrived. When she'd separated from Mossad, he'd taken power of attorney – allowing him to make quick medical decisions in situations such as this. He didn't mention what else they'd found – evidence that it had gone much further than physical or psychological torture – she could tell them, when and if she was ready. "They'll need to put pins in her leg." He continued, and anybody could detect the anger in his voice.

"She's not going to like that, boss." McGee said.

"She doesn't have a choice, McGee." Gibbs said, but he too knew that would be difficult for her – having to remain still for some time. "Someone will be with her most of the time."

"She's not going to like that, either." McGee interrupted.

"Which is why one of us is gonna be with her." He finished. He didn't have plans to leave the hurt young woman alone for more than they had to. The other team was working on the case, but he didn't want it out of his control for much longer.

Palmer had remained silent throughout the course of the conversation, but spoke to Ducky now. "If you, uh, want, I can handle autopsies while you stay here – so you can stay here." He said. "I'll be fine."

Doctor Mallard never got to answer him, because at that moment, DiNozzo emerged from the hallway leading into the emergency room. His face was a mask.

Abby ran towards him, wrapping her arms around him. He barely reacted, his eyes were far away. She reached up on her tiptoes, her mouth next to his ear, and whispered something.

Tony smiled.

TBC

Author's Note:

Thank you very much for reading, everyone! I'm glad that there are people reading this still. Please, if you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! I'm already using one of the suggestions I've got, and you'll see that in the next chapter. I hope that you like the direction this is taking so far.

Opinions, please? Review, it makes my tiny shiny world go round.

And it makes the back pain from sitting at this laptop just the tiniest bit less.