A/N This is my favorite chapter. : )
Chapter 9
Orders
I barely open my eyes, exhausted and confused, intense blue eyes beckon me back from the numb haven that rescued me from my living nightmare. I feel one calloused steady hand holding mine and the other sweeping back my hair. I remember the feeling from before . . . but then it was much hotter outside . . . we were in a military truck . . .
"Ziver?" My hand registers a light squeeze.
Through the exhaustion my mind starts to clear and I remember sobbing and losing consciousness. Did I faint? No. Oh no. I had some sort of break down and swooned like some damsel in distress in one of Tony's classic movies - at a crime scene, no less.
My free hand covers my face in shame. "Where? . . Gibbs? . . . Did I compromise the crime scene?" My voice sounds thin.
He looks so fatherly as he says, "Ducky's van. Tony carried you in here and Ducky made sure you were okay before heading into the crime scene, which is still intact, but that's not what I'm concerned about right now."
We are silent for several minutes. I put my hand back to my side while closing my eyes. I just cannot look at him. He continues to stroke my hair and I reluctantly find it soothing.
I bite the gun, open my eyes and focus on the ceiling. I try to recover some semblance of professionalism, willing my voice to sound even, "Gibbs . . . I did not realize what I was walking into. Now that I am prepared, I can get back to work. In this case I must apologize. I am sorry that I acted so unprofessionally, it will not happen again."
He does not say anything for a few minutes and even though I am willing myself to move, I still feel lulled by his comforting hand on my head. I know it is a losing battle.
"Ziver, look at me." I reluctantly comply. "No apologies. Everyone has a breaking point. You saw me after the boat explosion years ago. Did you think less of me for it?"
"Gibbs, of course not, but . . ." My breath starts to quicken. I need to . . . calm down . . . or Gibbs will . . . never let me . . . back in the field. I start to stir to prove my determination, but he responds by taking his hand from mine and bracing my shoulder gently. "Stop. Just stop." sensing my frustration from being in such a powerless position, once my breathing slows he continues speaking carefully but a bit more firmly so I feel less like a victim and more like an agent. "Okay, now you are gonna listen to me and follow my orders. DiNozzo is going to take you home and stay with you tonight. If you talk to him, you won't have to see the NCIS shrink again. If you can't talk to him, you need to talk to someone. Vance made me read your file, Ziva. I know the hell you went through, but it's not enough for me to know. You need to tell someone or it's never going to go away."
My eyes flit back to the ceiling. The only response I can muster is a nod.
"Tony is waitin' outside, I sent Ducky and McGee back in the barn since I figured you could do without an audience."
I place my hand on top of the one on my shoulder, look into his eyes and reply, "Thank you, Gibbs."
He helps me sit up, puts his hands on either of my shoulders, leans in, kisses my cheek and says softly in my ear, "Anytime." I curse my emotions as a few tears slide out. He pats my knee, gives one last smile, walks out and nods to Tony upon stepping outside.
Tony gives me a few minutes to regain my composure, then steps into the van and tries very hard not to look as nervous as I know he must be.
"So, you ready to go?"