V. If a Heart Bled Love

7 Days before Valentine's Day

.::.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Abby smacked Tony on his arm as soon as he closed the door to her lab, and he winced.

"What was that for? What didn't I tell you?" Tony rubbed his arm in an injured manner.

"You slept with Ziva!"

"What? We didn't sleep together, Abby!" Tony moved out her reach as she raised her hand to smack him again.

"Really? Cause a little birdie told me that her car was parked outside your apartment all night two nights ago! I have camera footage!" Abby stalked to her keyboard and hit a key, "There! Isn't that her car?" She gestured at the computer screen and glared at him.

Tony watched in amazement as the grainy black-and-white video sped through fast-forward and Ziva's car pulled to a park outside his apartment building. A tiny figure emerged from the car and entered the building, and the car remained in its place for the rest of the night. The video flickered badly, but there was no mistaking it; it was her car, and it didn't move at all that night. "Did you hack into a traffic camera or something?" Tony asked Abby incredulously.

"You don't want to know. The point is, how could you sleep with her and not tell me? You hurt me, Tony!" Abby gave him a grievous look. "Were we planning this together or not?"

"I didn't sleep with her, Abby! She stayed the night but nothing happened, okay?"

"Well then what happened?"

Tony groaned. "Do you have to ask?"

"Yes! What if what happened changes our plans?"

"It…doesn't." But he looked unsure.

"Then why do you look like that? Tony, will you just tell me?"

He sighed. "Fine."

"And don't leave anything out or I will find out from Ziva how to kill you with a paperclip and then kill you with a paperclip," Abby added.

.::.

"So nightmares are what have been beating you up."

The familiar voice almost made him throw up, because she wasn't supposed to be here; she wasn't supposed to have seen him flailing in his sleep and she wasn't supposed to have heard his screams. He felt fear clench his heart and then suddenly he was angry at her, angry that she'd come here while he slept. That she'd deemed it her duty to check up on him. Because now she'd intruded into his private space, and she'd seen something very personal, and this was the one thing that he couldn't ever let her know about.

Because there was no way he could ever tell her that he'd dreamt of her death. That there was a reason he'd been dreaming about her death. That he loved her and wanted her and needed her, and he feared losing her, and he feared being rejected by her even more. That he woke up in cold sweats every night, imagining again and again what it felt like to lose her. It didn't matter to what or whether the demons were real; all it mattered was that he tortured himself with them and he had to, because he was scared that once he stopped he would forget just how precious she was to him.

It had been this way before. He'd loved her too much and thought about her too little. That was why he'd never made the first move; never taken the first step. He would never appreciate her presence in his life until he saw that she belonged to someone else, and then he would get jealous and try to get her back. He always did, except he knew that someday it would be the last time. So he'd finally decided to do what he should have done a long time ago. But he'd never known until he'd truly committed his heart to her how very hard it was not to fear not having her.

He shuddered when she sat down beside him on the bed and laid a hand on his shoulder. Despite his sweat and the layers of clothing and the sheets entangled between his legs, he still felt horribly bare; horribly vulnerable, like an open book. He shut his eyes and prayed that she hadn't seen the millions of his hopes and dreams flash by in them, because if she had then she must know he loved her, and if she knew then she must loathe him, surely?

For how could she not loathe a man who could love her and not have the courage to show it? How could she not loathe a man who dreamt about her death every night because he dared not tell her to her face that she was what kept him alive? How could she not loathe a man who hadn't even the audacity to sweep her off her feet, shower her with roses, kiss her until the sun set, and tell her just how special she was?

He almost didn't notice when she started rubbing her hand up and down his back, trying to calm him down, trying to stop his shudders and his desperate gulping breaths. He tried to keep from thinking about the warmth and comfort her simple act gave him as he bent down and put his head in between his knees, willing away his dizziness. But it was too much, and all he wanted to do was to reach out and pull her into his arms. Hold her forever. Just to keep her safe and with him. Just to tell her he loved her without really telling her. Just to touch her and kiss her and make her his for all eternity.

And just like that, the hollowness returned, and he wanted nothing better than to go back to sleep and live through the horrible nightmare again so that he could see the contempt in her eyes at his foolishness for ever thinking he was worth her. For ever thinking he was strong enough to find a way to win her over.

"Are you alright?" She sounded frightened, and he knew it was because she had never seen him like that before, so silent and still except for the ragged breaths that kept choking him. He didn't tell her that he'd spent months in that state when he'd thought she was dead.

"I'm fine, Ziva."

Her eyes, fear-filled, searched his face. "What are the nightmares about?"

He breathed out slowly. "They're…nothing."

"Tony, you were screaming," she said quietly.

He tried to ignore his racing heart and he tried to ignore her soft hand still on his back. "Yeah? Sometimes I do that."

"Not like this, I hope. You sounded like you were in pain."

He wasn't sure he really wanted to know. "What was I screaming about?"

She hesitated. "I heard my name. When you were about to wake up."

He turned away. "Damnit."

"What?" She asked in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Ziva." He sighed.

"For saying my name in your sleep?"

"Yes."

"Tony, it was a nightmare."

"Yeah." He didn't elaborate. He couldn't.

"I am worried about you." Her single sentence echoed around the dark room, ringing in his ears. It settled in his stomach and lit up a fire, and he could feel the cold fog that drifted across his heart slowly lift. Here was hope, because here was more than pity or contempt. Here was worry, her worry for him. So perhaps she didn't hate him after all.

"I'm alright." He cast her a slight smile, and it was the first genuine one he'd worn in days. Things felt better already.

She must have known that, because she smiled back, and the worry in her eyes melted away. "I am glad, Tony."

It never ceased to amaze him how five years later, her smile still looked just as wonderful to him as it had on the first day that he'd met her. His heart thudded as he reached out a hand and threaded his fingers through her hair. "Thanks."

"You are welcome. You will tell me what those nightmares are about someday, Tony?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Ziva…can you please stay the night?"

She gazed at him in surprise, but then finally gave a nod. She patted the pillows gently, and he moved over to lay his head back down upon them. She took off her shoes and climbed into his bed, and snuggled up next to him. Her voice was soft as she spoke.

"Just to keep the nightmares away."

.::.

"Oh my God!" Abby squealed as Tony finished talking. "She so did sleep with you, Tony!"

"Not it that sense, Abby," Tony said exasperatedly.

"Bet you wish it had been," Abby retorted, "And this so screws up our plans."

"How does it?"

"Because now you have to tell her you love her!"

"What?" Tony squeaked.

"Tony, we can't just go on with our plans like nothing happened. Things have changed now! We have to adapt! Go with the flow!"

"But…" Tony spluttered, unable to find the right words to express what he wanted to say, "Isn't going on with our plans flowing?"

"No, it's not! Tony, what if she meets her other true love on Valentine's Day?"

Tony looked at Abby in alarm. "No."

"You see? So you have to tell her before that! Carpe diem, Tony! Seize the day!"

"Abby, you know you're crazy." Tony informed her.

Abby grinned at him. "Only in the best way possible. So are you going to tell her or not?"

Tony waved his hands around frantically. "But she's Ziva, Abby."

Abby made a sound of impatience. "Will you stop saying that? Honestly, I feel like Gibbs-slapping you sometimes. You gotta tell her because she's Ziva!"

He groaned. "There are so many ways in which this could go wrong."

Abby grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Tony, if you don't tell her, there's only one way in which this could go wrong. If you tell her, there are many ways in which it could go wrong, but also one way in which it could go right. And don't you think that one way is worth facing all the others?"

Tony looked back at her quietly, debating her words. He sighed. "Yeah."

Abby beamed. "Excellent! Tell me how it goes." She twirled away from him to her computer, hitting a few keys on her keyboard while humming happily. The distorted image on her screen vanished.

Shaking his head, Tony left her lab. He thought about Abby's advice as he pressed the button for the elevator. He didn't know if telling Ziva he loved her was the best move, but Abby was right. Ziva had been worth risking his life for, and now she was most certainly worth risking his heart for.

.::.

A/N: I almost forgot to post this! Haha. I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter will be written by Ash. Please leave a review on your way out!

A/N#2: I know it's been said before, but you guys are so great that we have to say it again! Thanks to everyone who's read, reviewed, favourited, put out alerts, or otherwise supported us! We're truly amazed with the response we've gotten. You blow our minds away!