He pulled open the bathroom door and walked in. Ziva was leaning over a sink; her hands were gripping the sides of it, leaving bloodied smears, as she coughed blood into the basin. He pulled her hair back from her face. She shot him a grateful glance in the mirror before her body was shaken by another coughing fit. He partially held her upright as her face twisted in pain from the coughs. He was disturbed to notice her distinct lack of body fat- he hadn't realized how much weight she was losing in these past weeks. Finally, after a few moments, she stopped coughing. She tried to reach a paper towel, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn't grip it right. He grabbed her wrist and held her bloody hand back over the sink, reaching for the paper towel himself.
"So now you're coughing up blood." He observed. She gave a harsh laugh, but that only made her cough again, more blood speckling her lips as she hacked for a few moments. She finally stopped, and tried to wipe her mouth on her sleeve. He again grabbed her wrist again, to stop her from getting the blood from her face on her clothes. He stood behind her and turned the water on, holding her shaking and bloody hands under stream of water. He dried her hands, then wet a paper towel and tried to wipe her face. She turned and snatched the towel from him.
"I can do it myself!" She snapped angrily. Her face was bright red, and he wasn't sure if that was from the heat or the coughing. He saw that she was sweating, her forehead damp.
"If you take off that jacket, you'll be much cooler." He commented as she continued to clean blood from her face. She nodded.
"I know." She said the word breathily, her throat still raw from the coughing fits. He'd been hoping that she would have some sarcastic barb to throw back at him about the obviousness of his comment- it would have shown she wasn't as bad as she looked. Tony reached for the button at her throat, and she pulled back. "No." She said firmly, despite her voice sounding so light. He paused.
"I'll make you a deal." He said just as firmly. "Either tell me what's going on, or take off your jacket so you can cool down, at least while we're in the bathroom." She glared up at him, and he reached to brush some fly away hairs from her face. She stepped back again and pushed the wayward hairs roughly out of her face.
"And if I refuse?" She questioned him, her voice slowly returning to normal. He smirked a bit.
"Then I have Gibbs take you to a doctor to get every injury you have looked at." She now looked extremely pissed.
"That is cheap." She muttered. "But I…" She looked at the ground. "Tony, I cannot do either of those things!" she exclaimed, looking him in the face again. He raised an eyebrow.
"Well, I know you probably won't tell me a thing, so just take off the jacket so you don't kill yourself in this heat." He gave her a small smile, hoping to encourage her. She shook her head.
"Tony, the shirt I am wearing…it is very…" She searched for the English word. "Low cut. Very low cut." She looked up at him again, hoping this excuse would get her out of Tony's demands. She had no doubt that Gibbs was capable of forcing her to go to a doctor, but she could not take the jacket off. Tony raised his right hand, the way people do in court
"I won't stare or anything. I won't even make any comments. I swear." He put his hand down. Ziva paused a moment, and then glared at him full in the face.
"No comments. At all." She said firmly. He nodded. She unbuttoned the jacket, and gently slid it off each arm, so as not to aggravate her injuries. He gasped. The long-sleeved shirt wasn't nearly as low-cut as she'd made it out to be- but it still showed her collarbone. He stared at the burn, shaped like and S and an H.
"Ziva, what-" He hand jerked up to cover the burn, but she was careful to make sure she never actually touched the burned flesh.
"You promised no comments." She cut in. He couldn't tear his gaze from the spot where the burn was. He felt sick to his stomach. He'd seen his fair share of burns when he'd worked in Baltimore PD, and he could tell the difference between burns that were and weren't inflicted for torture. (Seriously, people were burned for the strangest reasons besides torture.) And this burn was meant to be used for torture. He gently grabbed Ziva's wrist and pulled her arm away from the burn. He leaned forward a bit to look closely, and Ziva pushed him. "A little too far into my space bubble." He grinned.
"It's 'invading my bubble of personal space' Ziva." He still couldn't take his eyes off the burn. He reached out to touch her collar bone, and she, surprisingly, didn't step away. He didn't notice that it was because the orange-brown wall was against her back. But she didn't dart away either. He lightly traced around the seared flesh, he felt her tense, and saw fear in her eyes. He drew his hand back. "If I scared you, why didn't you move?" He questioned her. The flash of fear in her eyes turned to anger.
"I was not afraid." He grinned the tinniest bit and reached toward her again. She tensed up and tried to lean away, only to hit her head on the wall. Her eyes watered a bit, and she unconsciously tried to cover the bump before forcing herself to pull her hand back down. He lightly put his hand over the head injury, and pulled her into a light hug, careful not to hurt her. She stiffened up again, her muscles tensing.
"Are you sure you're not afraid of something?" He whispered in her ear. She didn't move at all. Then she tried to pull away.
"Leave me alone. If they see me with you…" She didn't finish the sentence, but he noticed that she'd whispered it. No doubt she knew that Gibbs had been outside the door at the beginning of the conversation. He was probably still out there now. He pulled her back.
"Who?" He hissed back at her. She was starting to struggle against his grip, and he held her tighter. "Ziva, tell me!" He demanded quietly. She shook her head and tried to pull away again. She was starting to shake again. Her hair had fallen in her eyes. When he reached for it, he was surprised to see her flinch away. She was genuinely scared. He put two fingers under her chin and forced her to face him. She was still shaking, and she looked so scared. This was a look he'd never imagined he would see on her. He felt and overwhelming urge to protect her, to fight off whatever was hurting her. He pushed that part of him down. He told himself that he could be emotional later. Ziva kept trying to pull away from him, but he wasn't letting her go, and that was making her more agitated. She was starting to panic.
"Let me go!!" She demanded. He shook his head.
"Ziva, look at me." Ziva shook her head fiercely and tried to pull away again. He knew it must be hurting her, him holding her wrist so tightly. But she was so hysterical he was afraid that if he let her go she would hurt herself. She had the sense to not scream or yell, at least, but he was still worried. She was beginning to thrash around, and her eyes were wide, her breathing fast. He pulled her into a tighter hug, mindful that he was probably hurting her, but more worried that she would hurt herself more. While she thrashed about and hissed Hebrew words at him would bet were highly offensive, he carefully maneuvered so that he could lean against the wall. He slid down into a sitting position, pulling her with him. He sat behind her, crossing her arms and holding her tight while pushing her against his chest so she couldn't thrash around. She slowly calmed to down. He realized that she hadn't made a sound through all of it. He hated it when she was quiet like this. Her breathing slowed, bit by bit, and she stopped moving around, though she was still shaking.
"Tony…I am sorry; I do not know what came over me." He didn't let her go. Instead, he buried his face in her hair- she smelled nice, like clean laundry and flowers. It reminded him of spring. He immediately scolded himself for thinking like that. She squirmed away. "Tony, I am sorry for my…" she paused for a moment. "Heat down? I am sorry for my heat down." Tony smiled
"I think you mean 'melt down. Zi." He expected her to either laugh at the nickname or threaten him with a horrible death. He hadn't expected her to have her knife against his throat within a second of the syllable leaving his mouth.
"Do not ever call me that." She hissed at him before sheathing her knife in its proper place at her back. Tony looked at her questioningly, then nodded and stood. He pulled her close again, ignoring her flinch.
"Gibbs is right outside the door." He said quietly. She nodded. She left first, pausing to make eye contact with Gibbs and nod before continuing to her desk. She sat and continued the paperwork that was stacked there. Gibbs raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and he shook his head. Both returned to their desks- nobody said a thing until they left. Then all hell broke loose.
+++As I said last time, I'm totally open to suggestions. I'm saying this again cause no one sent any in…seriously guys (and girls) I don't care how stupid you think it is, it could totally be and inspiration to me. Send those ideas! Anyways, thanks for reading, and please review! +++