A/N: I know, I know. It's been forever. My friends keep telling me to "Work on Tying Up Loose Ends!" but it's hard to just sit down and write, especially as a busy high school senior. But I took my last final today, and prom's tomorrow night, so I'm in a good mood.

"Thank you for coming so early, McGee," Ziva greeted him the next morning as he walked into Tony's apartment.

"It's fine. I had Abby walk Jethro before she went to work, so I got to sleep in a little bit. I told you, Ziva, it's no big deal."

"It is to us," she said sincerely, looking into his eyes to show him just how much she meant what she said.

He didn't like what he saw there. They were puffy and red-rimmed, the eyes of the haunted. He looked right back into them. "Your nightmares are back, aren't they?"

Her gaze immediately dropped to the cup of coffee in her shaking hands, proving his theory, and he sighed. Taking her coffee and putting it on the counter, he pulled her into a hug.

"You could have called."

"I did not want to bother anyone."

"Next time, you should," he told her. Then he picked up her coffee and dumped it into the sink. Before she could protest, he said, "Coffee won't help you, Ziva. Sleep will. Go back to bed."

"But Tony–"

"I'll take care of him. Bed. Now. And call someone if you have to."

"I am not going to interrupt them at work because I have a bad dream, McGee," she tried to argue.

"Yes, you will. You know they won't mind. Go."
She rolled her eyes, but there was a touched smile on her face as she finally gave up and listened.

With one teammate taken care of, Tim decided to deal with the other one.

He knocked on the door. "Tony?"

"It's about time, McGee." The humor that was supposed to be in that statement fell flat, and when Tim opened the door he could clearly see why.

There were bags under eyes that couldn't seem to stay open. He looked worse than he had in the hospital; a ghost of the Tony from the day before.

"Tony, are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" he snapped, then winced as he realized how harsh he'd been. "Sorry. I…had trouble sleeping last night."

Tim was confused for a moment. He could tell that Tony wasn't telling the whole truth… Suddenly, he understood.

"Ziva's nightmares."

"She told you?" Tony asked, surprised and… Was he jealous?

"I figured it out," Tim said with a shrug. "Why? Didn't she tell you?"

"No." He gave a grunt of pain as McGee helped him into the wheelchair. "I woke up at about three this morning to her screaming bloody murder, and I couldn't do anything about it. Nothing, McGee. I was trying to reach for my phone to call Gibbs when she started crying and I realized she was just dreaming. Do you know what that's like?"

Tim didn't say anything for a moment. He could only imagine the pain Tony was going through. To hear Abby's screams and be unable to go to her… He couldn't think of words to describe the agony he'd feel.

Finally, words came to him. "Tony, this is Ziva we're talking about. She's not exactly the most forthright one on the team. She probably thought you were still asleep, and figured she'd tell you in the morning," he reasoned.

Tony shook his head sadly. "I don't think so, McGee. Like you said, it's Ziva. She's not going to tell me anything unless I ask her about it." He sighed, and Tim wheeled him out of the room.

When they reached the kitchen, Tony saw Ziva's mug in the sink. He looked around, confused.

"Where is she?"

"I made her go back to bed."

"What?" Tony was shocked.

"Well, she looked awful, and we both know that coffee isn't a substitute for sleep. Unless you're Gibbs," he added.

"And she just went? Just like that?"

"Well, she tried to argue with me, but… What?" he demanded as Tony shook his head and smiled.

"Our little Timmy's growing up."

"Come on, Tony," he complained, sick of being picked on.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that. I just meant… Look. When we met, you were just the probie who was afraid of Gibbs, and who threw up at crime scenes. Now you're a special agent who argues with a trained assassin for her own good, and wins. Thanks for taking care of her for me, Probie."

Before Tim could stress again that it was no big deal, his phone rang. "McGee," he answered. "Sure, Boss." He held the phone out to Tony.

"Hello?"

"Good luck today, DiNozzo," Gibbs' voice came through the phone.

"Thanks, Boss."

In the background, he heard someone yell, "Let me talk to him!" Then, directly into the phone, Abby said, "Listen, Tony, do not push yourself today. You'll only make yourself worse. Take it easy, do you hear me?"

She was loud enough that McGee could hear her, too, and he grinned when Tony rolled his eyes.

"I hear you, Abs."

"I don't believe you. Let me talk to Timmy."

He handed the phone back with a grin of his own.

"Tim, please make sure he doesn't overdo it, okay?"

She was still talking loud enough that Tony could hear her.

"Okay, Abs, I will."

Satisfied, she said, "Good. See you later! Love you, Timmy!"

"I love you, too, Abs," he told her, his smile taking over his whole face as he hung up.

Tony laughed. "You sure you know what you're getting into? She's pretty stubborn when she wants to be," he joked.

"I'm sure," Tim answered, no joke in his tone at all. "Let's go, so I can get back to work."

"You must love her. There's no way you'll ever hear me say that," Tony muttered.

Ziva hadn't planned on falling asleep; hadn't even wanted to fall asleep. But her need for sleep overcame her will to stay awake the minute her head touched the pillow.

She awoke again, feeling much more rested, two hours later. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in bed at ten o'clock, and couldn't help but admit that it felt good.

She stretched, and decided that she wasn't in the mood for a run. In fact, she didn't want to be anywhere by herself. Not after what had just happened.

After another minute, she was out of bed and getting dressed to go to the one place where she never felt alone.

She pulled into her usual parking space and waked herself through her plan again. Security would be no problem, but she couldn't risk the elevator. Once she got to Abby's lab, she would have more of a chance of staying. But if Gibbs caught her… She didn't want to explain why she couldn't go back to Tony's alone. Abby would understand without words, and help her out. She took a deep breath and got out of her car.

She was right; she got past security with ease. They didn't know that she was supposed to be at home. She smiled. That was Gibbs' first mistake. Her grin vanished as she realized that after today, he probably wouldn't make that mistake again.

Skipping the elevator, she walked to the stairs. She had expecting the stairs to be the safe option; instead, it was obvious that she should have taken the risk. Just as she reached the first landing, so did Hetty.

"Good morning, Miss David," the older woman greeted.

"Hello, Hetty," Ziva answered, just as polite. Maybe if she was nice, Hetty wouldn't tell…

"I didn't think you would be coming back to work for some time."

"With Tony at therapy, there is not much to do. I decided to come visit Abby."

Hetty pursed her lips. "I'm sure NCIS is quite out of the way, though, isn't it?"

"It was not too far."

"All right then. I was just going out for some tea. Your break room is not very well stocked."

Ziva smiled. "I have to agree with you. Enjoy."

When Ziva could no longer hear Hetty's light footsteps, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She reached the lab's floor, and almost walked in, but something seemed wrong. If Tony were there, he would have had some kind of comment about her "ninja senses tingling." She took a second to figure out what was off, then realized there was no music. Abby wasn't in the lab. She laughed at herself for being so on-edge, and walked in.

"What's so funny?" a male voice asked.

She tensed again, and turned on him, ready to fight should he attack.

Callen held his hands up in surrender. "It's just me!"

She exhaled and shook her head to clear it. "I am sorry. I am a little jumpy this morning."

"It's fine, I can't blame you for that. What are you doing here? I know Gibbs said that you were going to be out for at least a week to get back on your feet. Obviously, you're not ready to come back to work yet."

"I came to visit Abby. Where is she?"

"I'm not sure. Gibbs sent me down here to have her check something, but I've been waiting for about five minutes."

"Oh. I am sure she will be back soon. How is the case coming along?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Did you really come to see Abby, or are you just here to get some information?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't thought of that. "No, I only came to talk with Abby! You do not have to tell me anything, if you don't want to."

"I just don't want to get into any trouble with Gibbs. But I'll tell you one thing: he's not taking any chances. Even with the confessions, Abby's triple-checking everything. They're going away for a long time, Ziva."

She struggled to maintain her composure. "Good. And how is your team?"
He chuckled. "Well, Hetty's pretty mad at Eric right now, but it's actually pretty funny. Gibbs will tell Agent McGee to check something, and Hetty makes Eric do it instead."

Ziva smiled. She'd heard about what had happened from Tony, and was glad that the man who had punched her friend was being punished.

The elevator dinged, and she tensed again. Callen glanced at her, concerned, before turning his attention to his partner.

"Come on, G, what's taking so long? Agent Gibbs is getting impatient. Oh, hi, Ziva."

"Sam," she greeted with a nod.

Callen shrugged. "Gibbs is always impatient. He always has been. And it's not my fault; Abby's not here."

Right on cue, the elevator dinged again, and Abby ran out of it. "Yes she is, yes she is! Sorry, Callen! I just had to talk to Ducky about – Ziva?" She jerked to a halt and began searching Ziva's face for any kind of distress, looking for a reason for Ziva to be at NCIS.

"Good morning, Abby. It was a little lonesome at Tony's all by myself."

Just as she'd expected, Abby knew what she meant without Ziva having to spell it out for her. The Goth wrapped her into a hug and whispered, "We'll talk when the men leave. Give me a minute."

Ziva nodded, and Abby stepped back. "Okay. What do you got for me, G Callen?"

"Well, Abby Sciuto, Gibbs needs the results from–"

"The tox screen, right. It came out the same, but here's the printout just the same."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Now go before Gibbs gets angry."

Sam and Callen turned to go, and the girls heard Sam mutter, "I thought he was always angry," before the doors shut.

"Okay, Ziva. It's just us. Are you okay?"

"I am now. I just could not be alone. Being in Tony's apartment without him makes me think of just how empty it would be if…" She let herself trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Abby sighed. "It's probably going to feel weird for a while, but it'll get better. Just like it did after Somalia."

Ziva smiled. "I know it will. I just hope it gets better sooner rather than later."

It was then that Abby noticed the bags under Ziva's eyes. Though she had gone back to bed, the two hours of sleep had not completely erased the result of the nightmares. "Oh, Ziva. How bad was it?"

"It was not pleasant. I woke up screaming, and I could not get back to sleep. I am glad that Tony is a heavy sleeper; I do not want to bother him with this when he needs to worry about himself."

Abby was shocked. "You didn't tell him?"

Ziva just shook her head.

"But you love him, don't you?"

Again, Ziva couldn't speak; she simply nodded.

"Then he needs to know! Ziva, he loves you, too, more than he's ever loved anyone else. I can see the way he looks at you when he doesn't think anyone's looking. He won't think any less of you for anything, especially this. Call him."

"Abby, he is at physical therapy. I can not call him now."

"Then tell him as soon as he gets home. He needs to know."

"Who needs to know what, Abigail?" Ducky's voice came from the video feed on her desk.

"Um… Nothing, Ducky. What's up?"

"I need you to come down here to look at… Ziva?"

"Good morning, Ducky."

"You are supposed to be resting, my dear," he chided her.

"I know."

"I'm taking care of her, Ducky. She shouldn't be by herself yet," Abby quickly cut in before Ducky could reprimand Ziva further.

"Oh." Ducky blinked. "I suppose you're right. But I doubt Jethro will be too happy when he finds out…"

"Too late, Duck."

Abby and Ziva whirled around to see Gibbs juggling three drinks: his own coffee, Abby's Caf-Pow, and

"I figured you'd want some tea."

Ziva took it from him, bewildered. "How did you–?"

Gibbs just gave her a look, and she cut off. Of course he knew. He was Gibbs. Then he turned his attention to Abby. "When you're done with what you're doing now–"

Abby shook her head, and her pigtails went flying. "No, Gibbs. I've checked, double checked, and triple checked everything to do with this case. I know it's important, but I have other cases that I have to work on! I can't–"

"Abs. I was just going to say that you could take a break, maybe go out to lunch. There'd be less interruptions."

She smiled. "Oh. Thanks, Gibbs."

He walked back to the elevator. As the doors were closing, he called out, "Quadruple checking won't hurt anyone!"

"So, how do you feel?" McGee asked as they left the hospital.

Tony gave him a "What do you think?" look, and answered, "Like hell."

Tim nodded. He knew that would be a stupid question, but he felt like he had to ask it. "Well, now you can go back home and rest."

Tony was quiet until after he was situated in the car. Then he said, "Actually, could we make a stop? There's someone I need to talk to."

"Who?"

"Jeanne."

On a park bench in the navy yard, Abby and Ziva sat together sipping tea and Caf-Pow.

After watching Ziva take a long drink, Abby broke the comfortable silence. "Seriously, Ziva, you need to talk to him about this. It's not fair that I know and he doesn't."

Ziva looked away and said, "You are not the only one who knows."

Abby's jaw dropped. "What? Who else?"

"McGee," she mumbled.

"You told Timmy, but not Tony? Ziva!"

"No, I did not tell him…He guessed."

Abby frowned. "And Tony didn't?"

"We did not see each other this morning. McGee helped him up."

She just shook her head. "Ziva, you've got to tell him. What if he did hear you, and he's waiting for you to go to him?"

"Abby, this is Tony we are talking about. He could sleep through a bob-hammer if he was tired enough."

"Jackhammer. And he's a lighter sleeper than you'd think."
Seeing that Abby had a point, Ziva promised to talk to him that night. Then she changed the subject. "So, how are things going with McGee?"

A smile bloomed on Abby's face. "Great doesn't even begin to describe it. I can't believe what I've been missing."

"Are you sure about this, though, Abby? I remember that it did not end well the first time…"

"Ziva, the worst mistake I ever made was breaking up with him. I am not letting him go again."

Ziva smiled. "I was just making sure. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt."

"Thanks, but I think I'll be okay. If I'm not, I'll just leave the ass-kicking to you."

"I'm so sorry, Jeanne," Tony breathed. Tears which had formed in his eyes when he'd seen the patch of freshly disturbed dirt began to fall, and he turned to make sure McGee was far enough away that he wouldn't hear.

"I know you're probably looking down at me, furious that I got over you so quickly, but I haven't. I really haven't, Jeanne. I loved you, and that pain will probably never go away. But I love Ziva, too. I love her so much. It was just a stupid rule of my boss's that kept me from seeing it before. I'm sorry that you never got the chance to get to know me. I was pretty different from Tony DiNardo. Maybe it wouldn't have worked out anyway. But when you died, as messed up as I was, I have to say, it wasn't as bad as when I thought Ziva had died last year. I'm so, so sorry, Jeanne. You didn't deserve to die. Not like this."

Words failed him, and he sighed. He wiped his eyes and called to McGee to come and push him back to the parking lot. Neither man said a word until they got to the car.

"Tony, Abby called me to say that Ziva went to headquarters today, but she's on her way back to your place now. Are you okay to go back now? I didn't tell her where we were. She thinks we're still at your physical therapy appointment."

Tony shook his head. "No, it's fine. I just want to go home."

He turned away, ending the conversation, and left McGee to figure out whether "home" meant his apartment or the woman waiting inside it.

After dropping Tony off at his apartment into Ziva's care, McGee drove back to work. It had been a very intense case, and he had a lot on his mind. At the forefront of it all was the look in Ziva's eyes when she saw her partner. It was…love, and something serious, something wrong. But she'd all but ignored him. She'd thanked him and sent him on his way. That was when he'd realized that it wasn't something he could help with; it was between Tony and Ziva.

"Tony, I need to talk to you."

He frowned. He hated those words, especially in that order. "What's wrong?" he asked. He remembered that she'd been at NCIS earlier, and his mind was coming up with too many scenarios: "None of the witnesses are agreeing to testify," "All of the evidence we found could be ruled circumstantial," and, worst of all, "I was wrong; I don't think this could work out; I don't really love you."

"Last night, I…" She trailed off, searching for the right words. She didn't want to just say "I had a nightmare," because that sounded too childish. "Last night my nightmares came back."

He looked at her, surprised. He wouldn't allow himself to feel relieved, because her dreams were nothing to smile about. "I didn't think you'd tell me," he admitted.

Now it was her turn to look shocked. "You knew?"

"Ziva, you were screaming. I thought they'd come back for you. And then when I couldn't get up…"

She moved closer to him on the couch until she could lay her head on his shoulder. "I am sorry that I did not tell you earlier. I did not want to bother you."

"Bother me? What bothered me was that you didn't tell me, and I didn't think you ever would. What made you do it?"

Ziva looked away, and he turned her face back to face him. "Come on, Ziva, you can tell me."

"I did not decide to tell you by myself. Abby told me that I should, and yelled at me until I agreed with her."

Tony chuckled. "That sounds like Abby."

"She told me that it was not fair that she and McGee knew, and you didn't." Then she shut her mouth quickly. She hadn't wanted to tell him that McGee knew about it.

But he just nodded quietly. "He couldn't believe that you didn't tell me any more than I could believe that you told him."

"I did not tell him; he guessed," Ziva defended herself.

"I know, he said that. Now I have a confession to make, too." He didn't know what made him say that, but then he was kicking himself, because now he had to admit what he'd done after therapy.

"What?" she asked.

He took a deep breath before blurting out, "I saw Jeanne today."

She gave him a sad little smile. "I would have been surprised if you hadn't, Tony. You loved her."

"No, I didn't," he said with a shake of his head. "Not this time."

"But you did once, and you missed her funeral. I understand."

He smiled and turned his head to kiss her. "Thanks, Ziva. I love you."

She kissed him back. "I love you, too."

McGee walked out of the elevator to find everyone from both teams in the bullpen waiting for him.

"How'd it go?" Abby was the first to ask the question on everyone's mind.

"It looked tough. They didn't have him do much, because he was in a lot of pain. But they said that what he did was more than most people can do, and they think he'll make a full recovery."

There were many sighs of relief, and all tension evaporated from the bullpen.

That is, until Abby ran to hug McGee. The look on Eric's face had everyone poised to stop any fight that might break out.

McGee looked at Gibbs meaningfully. "I'm going down to see if Ducky has anything else we can use against these guys."

Gibbs nodded in response, knowing that he wasn't really going to autopsy. He'd send Callen down later.

Hettie, just as Tim knew she would, tried to stop him. "Mr. McGee, really, I'm sure Mr. Beal could do that for you. Right, Mr. Beal?" she asked in a way that made it clear that it was not a request, but an order.

Grumbling, Eric began to stalk out of the bullpen toward the elevator.

"No, Hettie, it's okay. I got it."

"Just the same, Mr. Beal…" It was a warning that he'd better accompany Tim to autopsy and act like a civilized human being.

When the doors closed with the two men inside, McGee flipped the switch.

Eric turned on him immediately with a crude remark. "You know, I'm surprised all of these DC agents aren't in better shape from having to take the stairs everywhere."

Tim just let it slide. "Look. I'm sorry, okay?"

The other man had another rude comment on his tongue, but it stayed frozen there. He was too surprised by McGee's words to say anything.

He continued, "It's all but an addition to rule 12: Keep it out of the office. Gibbs told me that I don't know how many times. I know I'm breaking another rule by saying this, but I am sorry. I should have listened. I really didn't mean to rub it in like that ."
"Didn't you?" he asked, much like Tim had just a few days before, in the same elevator.

"No." The word was not colored by a lie. It was completely true. "I didn't mean it. I know it's not an excuse, but we thought you'd all gone back to the hotel already."

Eric scoffed and looked away, clearly agreeing that it wasn't an excuse.

Tim sighed. "And… I'm sorry I dropped you like that. You were right; I did deserve a fist to the face. I guess it's the training; it was just a reflex. I didn't mean anything by it."

Again, Eric rolled his eyes dismissively.

"One more thing." He waited until Eric looked at him, doing a double take at the pleading look in Tim's eye. "Don't give up on your friendship with Abby. She takes this kind of thing seriously, and it'll kill her if she loses a friend. As it is, she's beating herself up about it. So maybe if you just… go back to normal? E-mails, gaming, that kind of thing? I can't stand to see her so miserable, and by the way you fought for her, I know you can't either. Please?"

Eric nodded. "I can do that. But don't you hate me? You can't seriously like this idea."

"You're right; I hate it. But if it means that Abby will be happier, I can live with it."

Eric shook his head disbelievingly. Was this guy really that self-sacrificing, or was it just a show?

"And, no, I don't hate you. I did, but I don't anymore." Not knowing what else to say, he decided to do what Gibbs would have done: he ended the conversation there and reached for the switch.

"Why?" Eric asked, and his hand halted where it was, suspended in midair.

"It's just… I feel like, barring the whole Abby situation, we would have gotten to be really good friends. Besides, we've got too much in common. It'd be like hating myself."

A/N: Yay! Only one chapter left! I have a feeling that that one's going to be super long, too. But then I'm done! By the way, I've found that reviews are a great medicine for writer's block!