Ducky sat down beside her against the doors, giving a sigh as all his weight fell onto the floor. "Will you let me check on you now? You haven't been checked."
She didn't reply. She had no intention of moving from her spot on the floor. Ducky was assessing her psychologically right there. The synopsis was clear. She shut down. And she wasn't trying to 'un-shut' herself at all.
This was troubling. If she didn't make the effort, no amount of help would make a change. He moved to get up, his shoe accidentally brushing against Ziva's thin footwear. He next heard a sharp intake of breath from the figure beside him.
"Your feet? Is that why you're sitting here?"
She nodded.
"Can I see?" He asked.
She nodded yet again. For now, her injuries were only for Ducky's eyes.
She fought back another urge to kick as Ducky slowly removed one side of her footwear, revealing swollen feet and bruises that had long formed there.
Ducky was an enraged Medical Examiner now. He knew the cause for such an injury was if a blunt object was used to smash her feet, plus further torture.
It did come to mind that Tony and McGee had said that they both had to practically drag Ziva to safety, her weight distributed under their hands.
What could they have possibly used on poor Ziva?
"Pipe." She whispered, answering Ducky's unspoken question.
Ducky shook his head slightly. The horrors of the human race. He took off the footwear on the other foot, at which Ziva pulled her leg back slightly in pain. His eyes scanned the equally injured foot as he wondered how in the world Ziva managed to walk on those feet.
His attention was pulled away though, when Ziva moved uncomfortably in her spot. His eyes drifted towards her face, but stopped halfway.
Right in front of his nose and in between his eyes, he stared down the length of a gleaming knife. Where the hell did she get the knife from?
"Ziva? What are you doing?" Ducky's wavering voice clearly displaying how nervous he was.
Ziva was more than capable of hurting him. He knew that. If she saw him as a threat, her instincts would kick in. Eliminate the threat for self-preservation. Thus he did the best that he could to show that he was harmless.
"It's me, Ziva. It's Ducky." He raised both his hands.
Ducky's facial muscles tensed as the knife slightly waved in front of him. He took a deep breath and steeled his nerves, looking her straight in the eyes.
He saw a scared little girl, a lone tear track trailing down the contours of her dirt-covered left cheek. Yet she stared insolently back at him.
"I would never hurt you." He coaxed, thinking that she saw him as a man who ripped her of any control she had.
Ziva however was thinking otherwise. "Kill me." She asked firmly under her breath.
Ducky's face became one of horror. Did she really just say that?
"I refuse to kill you Ziva."
"Take the knife."
"No. You're in NCIS now, and I'm Ducky. You're safe my dear."
"I know who you are, Ducky. Just take the knife and kill me. Please."
If Ducky thought his face couldn't possibly show more horror, well he was wrong. He was utterly flabbergasted. It was like a bombshell had been dropped when he realised that she wasn't having flashbacks or anything along that line. She was in fact aware of herself and her surroundings.
He didn't fear the knife before him anymore. He knew now that it was never her intention at all to hurt him. She had indeed, in her own capacity, just asked him to kill her.
"Why?"
"I do not see any other way out." She resigned to her fate, as she dropped the hand holding the knife.
"There is always a way out. You just need time." He explained tenderly.
Ziva finally felt the full blow of her time being tortured as a range of emotions attacked her. More tears cascaded down her gaunt face.
Ducky took his chance to rid her of the knife, carefully extracting its handle from Ziva's grasp. He slid the knife across the floor, totally out of their reach.
He looked at the torn agent in front of him and moved forward to give her the thing he felt she needed the most. It was probably the only thing that he could offer. He gave her a hug.
The worn hands of many years of experience encircled the wan figure of the one they called Ziva. Ducky stroked her back in circles as she wept into the shoulder of his lab coat, silent sobs harshly wrecking her whole body. Her hands clenched fistfuls of her pants, full of sorrow and anger.
"My dear girl, you will get through all of this. I know you will." He assured her.
It seemed like a long time until Ducky ceased to feel any jerky movements from the agent in his arms. He turned his head slightly to check on her.
She had indeed stopped crying, and was simply just staying in Ducky's grandfatherly embrace.
"Ducky?"
"Yes?"
"If I let you check my injuries, will you keep it to yourself?"
"I'll try my utmost best Ziva. If a report is needed, I do have to hand in a full one."
"Okay. Then can you not tell anyone about what I asked you to do just now?"
"That I can assure you, my lips are sealed tight. Doctor-patient confidentiality."
"Thanks Ducky." She pulled back and looked at him earnestly.
"Anytime my dear. Come on, let's get you checked."
End Of Flashback
"You know, up to this day, I still have one big question in my mind." Ducky announced.
"What is it?"
"Where could you have possibly gotten the knife?"
"Oh, I just took it from McGee. More of stole actually. But I returned it. So it was not exactly stealing."
"Did he know it was gone?"
"I don't think so. Even if he did, he did not think it was me. He probably thought he dropped it somewhere in that camp." She laughed at being able to pull all that off.
"So, have you ever told anybody about what happened?" Ducky asked in reverse.
"Nope."
"Not even Jethro?"
"He is the last person I would tell."
"Why?"
"He would be ashamed to know that I asked you to kill me."
"I doubt that."
"He would. He would be so disappointed in me."
"Well, all that matters is that you've come quite a long way since then."
"I guess I have."
"You are a strong girl Ziva. Never doubt that." Ducky emphasised by putting his hands lightly on her shoulders.
"Thanks Ducky." Ziva leaned forward, giving Ducky a tight hug in return.
Ducky had always been supportive of her. He was a good listener, and she found it easy to talk to him. He had always been a great help and she valued their friendship very much, more than she'd ever admit.
Ziva released her hold of Ducky and hopped off the autopsy table. "Bye Ducky. See you tomorrow."
She bid him goodbye with a peck on the cheek and made her exit from autopsy. As the autopsy doors closed behind her, the dark figure on the furthest autopsy table rose up into a sitting position.
"Jethro! I thought you were asleep." Ducky exclaimed.
He wasn't used to seeing the bodies on his autopsy tables rising from the dead.
"I was." He declared, as he twisted his neck and back, emitting cracking sounds throughout the almost empty autopsy.
"That sounds painful. You should stop sleeping on my autopsy tables."
"It's peaceful down here Duck." Gibbs stiffly made his way off the autopsy table and walked to Ducky's side.
"How long have you been awake?" Ducky's eyebrows shot up in question.
"Long enough." Gibbs sighed.
"You heard everything, if I'm not wrong."
"Honestly, I'm still reeling in the shock that she wanted you to kill her."
"Never knew she really did feel that way, right Jethro?"
"I do now."
Gibbs scratched his head, frustrated with himself. "I mean, why would she think that way? That I'd be ashamed of her."
"She looks up to you. Very much. I cannot stress how much it is. You're her role model."
Gibbs rubbed his face with his rough hands.
"If you do have a chance though, you should get her to open up about her time in Somalia." Ducky advised.
Gibbs looked at his friend with confusion in his eyes.
"She still needs to talk about it. She is better now, that is pretty much obvious. But I fear she will never truly be over it if she doesn't talk."
"I'll do my best Duck."
Ducky sighed as he patted Gibbs on the arm.
"I know you do Jethro. I know you always do."
It was very true. He did. He always did.
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