Chapter 11

Symbiosis

(Tony's POV)

This morning I take in the sight of her small body curled up next to me. Her ear is pressed against my heart again. I feel the drool and smile. I lightly rub her back and think about the past 24 hours. It seems like the day had lasted a week, but I would not have traded it for anything. I never imagined yesterday morning that I would have ended up lying here with her now and I can't help but mentally replay what had happened over and over.

I was feeling gypped having to walk the perimeter and evaluate whether every shoe print, gum wrapper or empty beer can was critical evidence or irrelevant. At least it was a nice day and the penance was worth getting Tim all riled up with my superior spit wad skills. Oh yes, Very Special Agent, in so many ways.

Only a matter of minutes had passed before I heard the door to the barn fling open and saw Ziva rush out and around the barn. She looked pale and her expression . . . I hadn't seen that vacant look since her rescue.

I dropped my supplies and ran, not having a clue what was going on. Ziva never flinched at a crime scene, not even when there were severed heads, so I knew she was either very ill or what she'd seen had been epically horrific. When I reached her she had thrown up and was still bent over, shaking and hyperventilating. I balked before touching her then I thought about Paris and gently placed my hand on her back, hoping to give her some comfort.

She flinched as if I'd hit her.

She was terrified.

I knew then that she was struggling to escape from that place again; somewhere where all she knew was abuse and torture, where every touch was filled with violence. The nagging thought came to me again that she'd been the only woman in a remote camp full of terrorists for months. I had hoped I'd been wrong about that, but I knew logically that I hadn't been. I said her name in a calm voice and told her that it was just me and she was safe. When her shoulders slumped and I dared to touch her again, she allowed it. She threw up a few more times and I saw the stream of tears as I held back her hair. She had broken out in a sweat and was trembling until her knees gave out and I caught her and scooped her limp body in my arms.

"Ducky! Gibbs!" Boss ran towards me followed by Tim. Ducky had just pulled the gurney from the van so he rushed towards me pushing it and I reluctantly put her down as ordered. Tim and Gibbs rolled her back to the van while Ducky hovered by her side, trying to assess what was wrong.

"Oh, Dear Girl, what has transpired? Anthony? Did she complain of anything?"

All eyes were on me. "I don't know. She threw up a bunch and was shaking, then she passed out and I called you." I leaned against the van, trying to give Ducky room. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

Tim asked frantically, "Is she going to be okay?"

Gibbs didn't answer directly. "Just help me get her into the van. Ducky, check her out while we wait out here."

"Of course, Jethro."

Gibbs leaned in and spoke something softly to Ducky before closing the door.

The three of us stood outside, all silently afraid that we might lose her again in one way or another. Tim broke the silence with the same unanswered question.

"What just happened? She was fine on the drive over."

Gibbs rounded towards him and said pointedly, "I don't know, McGee, you were in there collecting evidence. What did you see when you walked in?"

A light bulb finally flickered on and he closed his eyes and said, "Oh no. Boss, I didn't even think about how she would see it."

I glared at McGee. "She was so upset that she was shaking and you didn't even notice! Way to go, McSensitive!"

I felt bad for taking it out on him especially when he stoically met my eyes and admitted, "You're right, Tony. I should have realized, I mean after Somalia I tried to keep an eye on her at crime scenes but it's been so long, I just stopped worrying I guess." He looked towards Gibbs and added, "Sign of weakness or not, I am sorry."

Gibbs decided to end our pity party.

"Here is what is going to happen. Tim, We'll be short two agents for this case so your doing double duty. After you process the victim you take over processing the grounds."

Tim was relieved to be able to serve penance for his sins. "Okay, Boss." He paused. Gibbs looked at him, realizing that he was waiting to hear the rest of the plan. Instead Gibbs shooed him away with a brisk hand movement and said, "Go."

"On it, Boss."

I stared up again as Gibbs ordered, "Okay, sit-rep."

"She was terrified, Boss. I touched her and she flinched. I've never seen anyone so spooked that they got sick and passed out."

He paused then did that thing where he tilts his head and opens his mouth then balks at giving any sort of detailed explanation. I wanted so much more than a curt summary but Gibbs is Gibbs and "Panic attack. Bad one." was all I got.

I turned towards him and asked, "Is she going to be okay? I mean, you saw her just now. Will she be able to recover from this?"

Gibbs knew I was asking not only in the interest of Ziva's well-being but also for my own emotional stability. He looked at me and of course didn't mince words.

"Wish I could say."

If Gibbs didn't have unquestionable faith that she could work through this then what hope was there? I felt my stomach knotting tighter.

"Take her home. Your orders are to stay with her. I want her under observation and I think she'd rather talk to you than be admitted to a psych ward."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Ducky opened the door, and waved us in. We joined him in the crammed space and looked down at her still, frail body. I was relieved that at least she was breathing evenly again.

"I believe you are right, Jethro. I cannot find anything physically amiss and given her history and the scene she just witnessed, it is reasonable to assume such psychological trauma could cause a panic attack of this severity. It is unusual to be unconscious for this long but I do not wish to attempt to rouse her. She will be exhausted when she wakes and will need rest and company in case another incident follows. I would look after her for the next few days if Mr. Palmer hadn't gotten himself into such a pickle, but I fear I am needed here."

"Tony will stay with her. Ducky, I'll sit with her 'til she wakes up. The fewer people staring at her when she comes around, the better."

"Yes, of course, Jethro. I will tend to my other patient and leave her in your care. Call me if you need anything or if she wakes in distress."

"Will do." Ducky patted Ziva's lifeless hand and voiced how helpless all of us felt, "Oh, My Dear, if only we could take this from you."

After Ducky left I scooted closer to her. Gibbs could read my mind so I didn't bother talking.

"I got this, DiNozzo. I sent her away from the crime scene so she won't feel like she has to explain anything to me."

I couldn't take my eyes off her.

"DiNozzo," I snapped my head up, "You'll still be her favorite even if she doesn't see you first. Go on."

I hated being sent away. I leaned in, swept back matted hair then kissed her forehead and glared defiantly at Gibbs for making me leave; daring him to say anything. His expression was flat as usual and he continued to focus on Ziva while ignoring my dramatic sign of affection.

I reluctantly followed orders but I kicked the tire before leaning my forehead and palms against the van to wait once again.

Gibbs came out five long minutes later and said, "Give her a minute."

I straightened and nodded not wanting him to see that I was close to having my own nervous breakdown. He stood still and waited until I turned to face him. He must have seen that I was now feeling more inadequate than frustrated. I mean, what was I supposed to say to Ziva after something that big that's been building for months? Everyone knows that I'm fully capable of saying the exact wrong thing to make everything worse. On the other hand I certainly didn't want to entrust her to anyone else. Maybe it was selfish of me (and I doubt this would be a revelation) but I needed to be the one she confided in. After all the deceit of the prior spring and the hesitation and careful dance we'd been doing since she returned; I needed to be trusted or absolved or at least used. If all she'd let me do was order her a pizza and sit with her in an awkward silence, well, at least I would be with her.

Gibbs' fatherly eyes read all of my insecurities. He put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Tony, you've got this."

That man knows exactly when to morph from boss to dad. His approval prompted me into action; again, not exactly a revelation.

When I opened the door and saw she was conscious I was relieved, but still oh so nervous. I didn't know how to treat her, what to say, if she would even want to be near me or let me touch her ever again.

During the car ride there was more silence. We have had too much silence lately. I opened her car door when we arrived, hoping that was the right move. She didn't protest, and that worried me as well. She went to shower and I paced around her sparse living room and racked my brain for what I should do. She threw up a bunch so I poured her some juice then I sat down because I didn't want her to see me anxiously pacing. I listened the whole time she was out of the room, ready to react if I heard a thump from her passing out again.

Eventually she came out.

The afternoon was a blur. It was exhausting, it was intense, it was intimate. I never expected her to trust me so much. Here she was, a nervous wreck from what he had put her through and she was brave enough to let me, her partner and friend but still a man, lift her shirt, examine and even touch all the painful reminders of him. I felt her relax more as I continued to keep physical contact with her, then being the macho guy I am instead of being a rock for her, I went and broke down and sobbed like a little girl and she ended up comforting me. If that is not strength, it does not exist in this world.

After we talked she seemed calmer but I still didn't want to leave her alone. After all, I did promise Gibbs to look after her, so she humored me by coming with me to run errands. We stopped at my place and I grabbed some clothes and movies. We picked up a pizza and her favorite ice cream from the grocery on our way back to her place. We slumped together into the couch and both fell into a peaceful sleep before the nuns had a chance to "solve a problem like Maria." I woke eventually to a call from Ducky. I picked it up and assured him she was much better and he didn't need to stop by. It was only 8:30 so I tried to wake Ziva to see if she wanted to put in "Mary Poppins," but she was snoring like a sailor and I knew the day took too much out of her. I scooted myself around to scoop her up for the second time that day. I carried her to bed slowly while softly singing Edelweiss. She smiled in her sleep. I tucked her in, kissed her forehead then went to the other side of the bed, and crawled in, watching her but made certain not to touch her.

Eventually I eased myself onto the pillow and felt content knowing that there were no more secrets between us, aside from my hopes of what we'll eventually be. I wasn't kidding about having a selfish reason to show her kindness, and while this is not the time to pursue that, I am glad that she didn't retreat at the thought.

As I smile down on this amazing woman attached to the impressing expanse of drool, I find that I no longer feel the weight of worry and remorse.

I let her sleep in, using me as a pillow until I hear my phone. I reach for it on the nightstand. I see that it's Gibbs and flip it open.

"Yeah, Boss." I say softly.

"Enough said. Let her sleep. Don't want to see either of you in today."