The closet had obviously been scrubbed well, but there were still blood stains on the walls. Light pink coloring was everywhere, in erratic patterns along the walls. He took a deep breath. There was nothing to prove it was Ziva's blood. It could be someone else's. But he slammed the door shut and ran before he could really look at the small closet or think. The closet had been big enough for a person to lie down in. Was Ziva keeping someone in there? Tony stopped walking. How could he think that? This wasn't a monster he was talking about! This was Ziva, and someone was hurting her. He took a deep breath, walked back to the apartment and made 2 trips to drag what was left of the bed to the elevator.

He got into the elevator, and then dragged the bed pieces behind him. He took two trips from the elevator to the trunk of his car in a daze. Ziva sat up front, staring out the windshield, not saying a word. He got into the driver's seat and sat there for a moment.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She didn't move. Didn't do anything except say one word,

"Go." He started the car, took it out of park, and sat there. "Well, are you going to go!?" She snapped angrily

"Where am I going?" Ziva sighed and rubbed her forehead.

"The Northwestern Apartment Complex. Apartment number 25." She leaned back and closed her eyes. He wasn't sure whether she was asleep or just ignoring him, but he let her be. He managed to find the apartment complex in about 15 minutes. He stopped the car outside of the building, about 10 feet from the front door of apartment 25. By now Ziva was obviously asleep. He got out, and tried the door of the apartment. It was unlocked. He stuck his head in the front door, and identified that it was Ziva's. The boxes stacked in the front doorway were overflowing with what little she had brought from Israel and bought since she had moved to the U.S. He went back, unbuckled her, and carried her into the house. He walked through until he found a couch, and gently placed Ziva on it. He went back and grabbed the bed pieces, taking 3 trips to carry it in. And he then spent almost six hours putting her new apartment together. It had a similar layout to her old apartment, so he put it together much like her old one. He needed some time to think, but simply sitting still wasn't going to help him. After he was about as finished as he could be without knowing where she wanted everything, he went to go check on her. His thought process had brought him nothing but more questions. She was curled up like a cat on the couch, her body forming a little ball that took up only one couch cushion. He sat down next to her.

"Ziva, c'mon, wake up." She moaned and turned so that she was looking at the couch, her back to the room.

"No, leave me alone please." He almost smiled. Of course she would use perfect English and be polite, even while half asleep.

"Ziva, up and at 'em." He put a hand on her shoulder and shook her a bit. "Wakey wakey."

"No, no!" She turned a bit more away from him. He was about to say something else when she spoke again. "Stop it!" She turned even more away, trying to burrow into the seam between the couch and the cushions. "Go away, please! Leave me alone!" She was almost yelling now, Tossing and turning as she tried to get farther and farther away from him. He grabbed both her shoulders and shook her, even though he knew she must be sore.

"Ziva, wake up!" Ziva continued to toss and turn. She yelled again, and finally he gave her a hard shake. "Ziva! Wake. Up."

"No, don't hurt-" She sat upright, breathing hard and covered in sweat. She couldn't focus her eyes on him, they were darting around rapidly. He shook her lightly again.

"Ziva, c'mon look at me." She finally focused her eyes on his face.

"Is he here!?"

"Who?" Tony tried to get her talk to him, but she must have been dizzy or something, she was moving back and forth, her eyes glazing over. Suddenly, she jumped up and ran to the master bathroom. He ran after her and found her leaning over the toilet, throwing up. He leaned down and pulled her hair back. She flinched at his touch at first, but her attention was otherwise diverted as she emptied the contents of her stomach. (Which, he noted, was not much.) And then she just started crying. Nothing on the scale of normal crying. She just sat there, not making a sound, tears streaming down her face. He thought that was worse. People should make noise when they cried. He moved her back from the toilet, so that they had more room. He leaned his back against the wall and stretched his legs out a bit. He tried to pull her down next to him. She resisted at first, fussing like a child. But then she relented. She simply collapsed, like a limp ragdoll. She simply froze once she was next to him. She didn't move, didn't speak. He pushed her away a bit so that he could see her face. She was looking at the ground, not moving at all. He put two fingers under her chin, moved her face up so she was looking into his eyes. She looked dead. For the first time, he was genuinely worried. Until now, she could have simply told him she was working on a case for Mossod on the side. But the look on her face didn't come from working a case. It came from someone who was ready to give up. He took his hand off her shoulder and let her face lean down again. She crumpled into him. Leaning against him for all support. They sat like that for a long time. He didn't know how long, but when he leaned back a bit to see her face, she was asleep again. He lifted her up, and this time laid her down on her bed. He tucked her in, doing his best not to wake her. He made sure to get her shoes and take off her jacket. And then he went to the kitchen and made coffee. He looked at the clock. It was only 4:00 in the afternoon. He sat at the kitchen table, and made some calls. First to Abby. Then McGee. Gibbs was last. He didn't want him to order him not to call the others, that was why he'd called them first. And just as he knew he would, Gibbs ordered them to meet. He offered his apartment, and Gibbs took the offer. The four of them were going to meet in25 minutes. He grabbed his keys, and looked in on Ziva. He shook her shoulder slightly. She muttered something and rolled over.

"Ziva." She muttered again "Ziva, I have to go now." She muttered again. "Ziva, where am I going?"

"AWAY!" At least she was back to a semblance of her normal self. He left. He wanted to stay with her, but the faster the team was briefed, the faster they could figure this out. He saw two sets of keys on the counter marked with the number 25. He grabbed a set and locked the door behind him.