Author's Note: Thanks for the great reviews guys and I hope you all enjoy this next chapter.-Geek

Chapter 21: Talking Scared

She stabs a termite infested piece of wood. It crumbles to the floor with her knife now mixed in with the broken bits.

There is nowhere to go. There is no insight of their whereabouts.

They are failing their tortured teammates. They are failing themselves.

He stands straight with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. His mind is reeling and it does nothing, but anger him.

"I'm not sure it was such a good idea to trust the others." Tony waits for her input, but she does not comment. "I know you say you know these people, but-"

"I do know 'these people', Tony." She is near a growl. "Michael and I…" She inhales sharply. "…Michael and I trusted these people with our lives so many times before. You do not know them therefore you can not judge them."

"It shouldn't take them this long."

"It could." She breaks another piece of rotted wood with her knife. "There are many areas to cover."

"Everyone was assigned an area-"

"It doesn't mean anything, Tony."

He wants to scream at her, but he controls himself.

"Besides…there might not be anything for us to find." She sighs, her shoulders heavy. "They could be dead already."

"Right, that's a really good way to be optimistic."

"There is no reason for us to get our hopes up."

He scoffs, then laughs. It is a bitter sound that rattles the bones in her body.

"So you're quitting-you don't really give a shit if we do find them?"

"I did not say that, Tony."

"No, but you might as well have. How could you treat them as if they've never existed in your life? How could you be so…okay with it all?"

"I've trained myself to handle situations such as these. I've lived these situations…time and time again." She puts her knife away. "…and I have been there, once or twice, where I have been so positive about the outcome of my findings only to find that there is never anything good that is left behind."

"You're not making any sense."

"Yes! I am…if you listen closely, Tony, you will understand why there is such an open end to the ways of Mossad." He uncrosses his arms; his eyes telling her that she is not getting through to him. "Whatever they leave behind is nothing that the seeker can use."

"Their bodies…you mean?" He pauses for a moment. "…they're not going to leave them alive…we're not going to…find them alive…" He voice is strained. "…are we?"

Her voice hitches in her throat. She is beginning to slip. Her heart is beginning to race. Her mouth beginning to dry. Nothing seemed so real until Tony uttered such a question with his heart dangling on his sleeve.

"…there…" She licks her lips as she tries to find composure. "…there could be…a way to find them-to save them…but I…" She shakes her head. "I do not know, Tony. And damn it…if they die…I won't take the blame for your mistake!"

His eyes light with a blaze. "Don't even try to pin the blame on me, Ziva. Don't even…dare leave this hanging over my head. My intentions were good-"

"Yes, but your way of doing so went unplanned and full of risk."

"I HAD TO!" He his words lash at her, but she is already up and moving around him; stalking him like he is her prey. "…damn it don't you see that I did this so you could come back?"

"THERE WAS NO ROOM FOR ME, TONY. I COULD NOT COME BACK!" She grabs her head and grinds her palms against the sides of her skull. "This did not concern you, Tony. This was not your battle to fight!"

"You're right, Ziva." He strikes the wall with his fist; three knuckles split and they begin to bleed. "It was yours-and you backed down." He cradles his throbbing hand. "…like a coward."

She can hear her breathing. It is even, but it is wild. She wants to rip the knife from her side and attack him, but the pain in his eyes stops her. The misery inside the darkened pools gets the best of her because he is a dear friend.

"…so hate…Ziva. Hate me for trying to get things fixed. Hate me for trying to form some sort of stability in each of our lives. Hate me for…hate me for doing Gibbs' job." He growls with distaste. "Guess he is a bastard after-all, huh?"

"Do not say that, Tony-please." She cringes. "Wherever he is…wherever they are…they do not need to be spoken badly about."

"The truth hurts." His tone rough. "Gibbs' would have wanted it this way-the son of a bitch would probably have thrived on it." He rips the sleeve of his t-shirt off and tends to the knuckles on his hand. "…self-satisfying some of a bitch."

"TONY!" She yells.

He mentally falls back, but his body stays in the exact same spot. His eyes close a tad, but they are still focused on her. He is studying her.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what happened between you and Gibbs…after your return?"

"None of that matters-"

"Whether it does or it doesn't, I'd still like to know."

"I do not have to tell you anything, Tony."

"No…" He grabs one end of the piece of t-shirt with his teeth while his other hand pulls the opposite end. "…but you're going to tell me."

She steps back in offense, but she does not say a word.

He finds a part of the wall to lean against. "We'll probably be following in their footsteps. We'll probably be dead in a couple of minutes." He shrugs. "Here's your time to tell at least one truth to me, Ziva. Tell me exactly what happened-tell me why you and Gibbs just never could piece things back together." His head drops and he shakes his head slowly. "Tell me why on earth I trusted in you enough to tell you what had happened to Gibbs while you were gone…the blast, the hospital, his memory loss, his retirement, his not-so-normal return. Tell me why on earth I fucking took you back the first time! Give me something to work with!" He glares at her. "Give me a fucking meaning. Give me something to be proud of. Fuck-Ziva, just give me something to think about before I'm fucking tortured until my death by the people you've spent your entire life catering to!"

Just then, a burst through the warehouse door startles them both.