Ch. 4 DiNozzo

Tony let the sound of his shoes slapping on the pavement fill his head, occupying any thought space. Coming home from Israel three weeks ago, he wanted to drown away his woes with a steady flow of alcohol. He'd gotten home that day and just as he had been about to pour a drink, a memory flashed before his eyes.

"Still beating yourself up over Jenny?" she asked, an eyebrow raised at him.

"Not as much I used to." he responded.

"drinking?" she asked, a knowing look in her eyes.

Tony hesitated for a second. "Not as much as I used to."

The flashback resulted with Tony throwing the bottle of alcohol as far from himself as possible. Leaving the spilled liquid and the shattered glass on the floor of his kitchen, Tony stormed out of his house. Tony hadn't let a drop of alcohol pass his lips in three weeks. He knew if he did, that memory would just pop up, nagging him, reminding him of how much she once cared. He also knew that if he started drinking down his guilt, he might never be able to stop.

Instead, Tony poured himself into physical exercise. If he was at work and had free time, he was at the NCIS gym, lifting weights or sparring. If he was at home and it rained, he went swimming. If not, he ran. He would run for miles in an attempt to forget, for at least a little while, the mess he found himself a part of. He'd run himself to exhaustion, so that when he finally did go to sleep, he wouldn't be plagued with dreams of Ziva and what had happened in Israel. His mind remained distracted, his heart remained broken, but his body became the image of perfect physical strength and fitness. A pretty box that was empty on the inside.

After awhile, Tony glanced at his watch. 11:00. He'd set off at about 9:30 and figured he had run seven to eight miles. It had been a long day, the conclusion to an equally long case involving a kidnapped Marine, but Tony still didn't feel tired enough to go home. So he kept running, escaping from his thoughts. At least until he tripped on a root he had not previously seen. He flew forward, his arms going out to brace him. He rolled awkwardly and finally came to a stop. Instead of springing to his feet, he simply lay there, on his back, his arms spread eagle. After a few deep breaths and deciding he wasn't going anywhere fast, he finally asked the question that had been chasing him for three weeks.

"WHY!?!" he shouted, his chest heaving.

Why didn't she talk to me about Rivkin?

Why wouldn't she listen when I told her he was bad?

Why didn't I shoot him in the leg?

Why couldn't she have gotten home a moment sooner?

Why did she stay in Tel Aviv?

Why hasn't she called?

Why couldn't I swallow my pride for long enough to tell her I was jealous?

Tony knew he was jealous. He'd been jealous every time she asked. And it wasn't the first time. He remembered vividly the jealously that coursed through him when she was with Micheal after the Hoffman case. He'd wanted to rip the guy's head off. But it was worse this time. At least he hadn't been responsible for hurting Ziva the last time. That was what hurt him the most.

But come on DiNozzo, thought Tony to himself, lets take everything into account: she lied to you. She said that Rivkin wasn't in town when he was. She had you cover for her went she went out to meet him! She was dishonest about everything concerning the man! She is- was your partner and she should have leveled with you. Instead, she decided to not trust you. It's not your fault for the way things went down. If she were more open, things would have been different.

Another flashback came to him, this one much more painful.

"You could have shot him in the leg!" she screamed at him, her eyes filled with anger.

"You. Weren't. There." he repeated, defiance resonating from him.

"Ziva, why can't you get out of my head?" asked a broken Tony, a single tear running down his face. He always claimed that DiNozzo men don't cry. What he always forgot to add was that they don't cry often, because when they did, the reason would have been monumental. More than anything else, Tony wished that he'd a least shot Rivkin in the leg; the bastard would have lived and Ziva would probably hate him for a while, but at least she'd be around.

Laying on his back, he focused his thoughts on everything that had happened before and after Israel. Thoughts of the dead Sleepers and Rivkin interfering with the investigation. The dead ICE 's extraction call. His fight with Rivkin. Discovering Rivkin was way over the legal alcohol level for driving. His interrogation with Eli David. His confrontation with Ziva. Feeling his heart break in two when Ziva didn't get on the plane. Feeling his hope diminish a little bit each day she didn't call or write.

Then, as though somebody had flipped a switch in Tony, he started to analyze the facts as an investigator, an outsider.

Wait a minute, he thought, his mind suddenly working in overdrive, the clearest it had been in weeks. Why was Rivkin at the SecNav's place? Eli David never denied knowledge of Rivkin's presence or that Rivkin killed him. Rivkin was sent. He knew about the meeting. Somehow, Eli David knew about that meeting. That ICE agent's death was an accident, Rivkin being sloppy. Heck, we don't even know what that meeting was about. We never found out what was transmitted across that device. And if Ziva had been in on anything, wouldn't she have accepted Rivkin's death as a casualty of war? Oh God, Ziva really didn't know why Rivkin was here. That's why she called for him to be extracted the night I killed him. She didn't know I was going to be paying her a visit; she decided for herself that Rivkin was a liability. We've missed something big. And doubly big is that Ziva hasn't contacted anyone. She's allowed to hate me. But, there's no reason for her to stop talking to Abby and McGee. The fact that she's been completely silent for three weeks is strange.

After much deliberation, Tony came up with two reasons why Ziva was on his mind: the first was that the facts didn't add up. There was way too much unknown and now Ziva was in the midst of the Israeli side of the mystery, unaware, and most importantly, without back up.

The second was that Ziva, beyond any shadow of a doubt was his best friend. She was always there for him even after his worst mistakes. Ziva brought a vibrancy to Tony's life, making each day different and unpredictable, making him want to come to work to spend time with her. A smile fluttered briefly on Tony's face as he remembered all of the fun moments he'd had with Ziva. To his relief they greatly outweighed the bad moments. And Tony knew that there had been some very bad moments over the last few years. And with a small amount of guilt, Tony realized that Ziva's loyalty was never in question, because she'd always, from the very beginning, pulled her weight. It wasn't her that was causing problems; it was the ones who claimed Ziva belonged to them, tying her to their deception by default.

No matter what she may have done to him, he couldn't hold a grudge. He just couldn't. The possibility that something might be wrong and potentially dangerous for Ziva overpowered his desire to escape and to stay angry at her.

Tony got the his feet, dusting off his hands. He began his run back home. Towards his problems and finally ready to face them head on.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading. I hope you are liking it so far. If so, please, let me know. It can either be a review or otherwise. Yes, I do know that these firt four chapters may not have been the most action packed. Reason being, I want a fairly solid foundation for the rest of the story. I suppose you can lump these first four chapters as the prelude ( or I suppose prolouge, as it's a story, not a piece of music).

I promise that there shall be more action, so if that's what you're waiting for, hold on!

Again, thanks for reading and have a super awesome day.