I'm back! And a pretty quick turnaround time for new updates too! I got back Tuesday afternoon, and now it's Thursday- oorah! I think I might try to post something for Betrayal next, because I miss that fic a little bit. Plus I have some new ideas for fics and if I finish one I've already started, I can start posting a new one! So keep an eye out for stuff, because it's coming, whether you want it to or not!
Well, enjoy this newest update!
Peace!
-CSIGurlie07 aka the World's Newest Fully Trained Marine!
Gibbs stepped into the warm afternoon sun of the Sanctuary, the fresh air washing over him. Just coming from the House, he'd returned from his Duties for the day to find that Ziva had long abandoned the bedroom. A quick search of the House told Gibbs that she'd forsaken the indoors in general. Tali hadn't found Ziva yet either—the little girl was preoccupied with something that Sergei was showing her near the edge of the woods.
It had been two weeks since their conversation after her nightmare, pushing her time in Sanctuary to almost a month total. And in that time, her stamina and health had vastly improved. Her ankles themselves were slow-healing, but she had adapted to the crutches well, and the muscle she had developed during her Captivity worked to her advantage until she was able swing herself along with seemingly no effort at all.
The color had returned to her cheeks, and the increasing amount of time she spent in the sun allowed her natural skin tone to glow from beneath her scars. The bruises faded, and the slice on her abdomen slowly knitted together. It was taking longer for her to regain the weight she had so sorely lost, though her enriched diet softened the angles of her limbs and face ever so slightly, and filled in the hollows of her cheeks.
And with her improved health, her energy increased as well. Very rarely did she stay indoors anymore. More often than not, she could be found outside, drinking in the sun. Every so often, a Resident would approach her, but for the most part she stayed to herself. She didn't offer counsel unless asked, and she often found isolated locations around Sanctuary to sit on her own while Gibbs fulfilled his duties as the Voice during the day.
Gibbs was not exempt from his wife's new desire to be alone. She never went out of her way to avoid him, but she rarely sought him out, and her words were few and far between even when it was only the two of them. Only with Tali was Ziva like her old self—she smiled, and laughed, even wrestled with the little girl. Her eyes lit up, and for a few moments her perpetual worry disappeared.
But Gibbs wasn't overly concerned. He wasn't happy about her current withdrawal, but he understood her need to maintain a certain distance. She spoke little, remaining mostly in her own thoughts, but when he was there she remained relaxed, and if he had to attribute a definitive word to how she related to him, it would be warm, even if it was silent. And the fact she didn't recoil from his presence was a reassurance in and of itself.
This particular afternoon, he found her perched on the boulder in the Garden. She seemed lost in thought, her eyes unfocused as she gazed into the tree line. In the warm, golden sun, the bright colors of the flowers around her feet only added to the aura of serenity that enveloped her. For a long moment, he simply watched her, taking in the sight of her sitting there in the sun so peacefully.
But then he noticed the little furrow of her brow that told him something was bothering her. Something in her eyes shifted, and concern hit him like a kick in the gut. The change was subtle, but abrupt in his eyes.
She seemed… almost sorrowful.
Squaring his shoulders, Gibbs approached her on deliberately shuffling steps. She heard his approach before he reached the patch of flowers, and turned towards him, the furrow immediately disappearing as her features softened. She scooted over on the rock, silently offering him room to sit next to her. He took it without hesitation, letting his shoulder brush hers as he did so.
"You okay?" he asked.
It had become habit by this point, and she allowed him the practiced question as smoothly as she had in the past weeks.
"I'm okay," she affirmed.
He curled his lips in a soft grin. "Lookin' a little serious over here."
"I was just thinking," she returned vaguely.
"Anything in particular?"
She hesitated, but that same shift in her eyes came back for a split second, and Gibbs sensed her apprehension as clearly as if it were his own, and he knew in an instant what had her so preoccupied. It was the same thing that had been plaguing her ever since her Rescue.
And in the same instant, she knew he knew.
"It's going to get better," he told her softly. He'd told her many times before, but he had no problem telling her again, even if she still didn't believe him. "It will. It just takes a little bit more time."
"I can't, Jethro."
Her response took Gibbs by surprise, and he blinked before asking for clarification.
"Can't what?"
Brown eyes closed against the sudden wariness in his voice, and the stone in the pit of his stomach sank a little bit lower in apprehension.
"Give it time," she answered softly.
At this, he turned to face her, his expression hardening into one of barely concealed alarm.
"What the hell are you talking about, Ziver?" he asked, his voice low. He reached over and took her hand in his, half in reassurance, half in a desire to keep her where she was, knowing her propensity to pace when wanting to avoid talking about something.
To his relief, though, she made no move to leave him. But her eyes were wary, nervous, and ultimately grounded in that ever-present fear.
"I can't stay here, Jethro," she whispered. "I have to move on, and soon. Once I can walk on my own, I'm going to—"
"Stop it," Gibbs interrupted, his tone hardening in the blink of the eye. "Don't even think that."
"Jethro—"
"No, Ziva. No. I don't care what you think you have to do for the sake of our safety. If you go out there on your own, then you won't be safe."
"If I keep moving…"
"You don't have to be afraid of him anymore—"
"I am not afraid of him." This time, it was her voice that grew razor-sharp. "Don't make assumptions, Jethro, not when you don't know anything—"
"Because you won't tell me—"
"What I will tell you is that I do not fear Damon Werth. He is flesh and blood, just like any other man."
"Then why are you so goddamn quick to run?"
"Because I cannot let him find me here. I do not fear him, but I know what he will do if he follows me here, and I fear who else will have to pay for my freedom."
"He's not going to find you here—"
"Yes, he will, Jethro, don't you get it? He's not going to just forget about me! He's not just going to let me go, he's going to look. He's going to search for me, and he will not stop searching until he finds me and destroys everything and everyone who stands against him."
Gibbs fell silent, taking a deep breath to keep his growing frustration—and fear—at bay. Anger he would prefer to direct at Damon Werth was being misdirected now, and he was overcome with the desire to grip her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. Because what she was suggesting was just nuts.
"So what, you're just going to disappear again?" he remarked snidely. "And what about the rest of us? You're okay to leave us wondering if you're alive or dead, even Captured again?" He gave her a hard look. "I don't think so."
"Jethro—"
"I can't go through that again, Ziva. I can't. And what about Tali? She just found you again. Do you know what it'll do to her if you suddenly disappear?"
"It is better than the alternative—"
"You wanna know what happened today?" he continued, interrupting her. She fell silent, her eyes locked on his in a burning gaze. "She left the Shirt at Sergei's, when she came to see you this morning." He paused for emphasis, but the importance didn't seem to register. "She's never left that thing anywhere, Ziver. She's kept it with her for every waking moment since you left. And this morning, on some level she realized she didn't need it anymore. Because she has the real thing now, Ziva. She has you."
"She'll be safer without me here," came the hard reply. "I need her to be safe."
"And she will be. She is. I know it doesn't seem that way, but this place is secure. Your apprehension is a common side effect."
"Side effect? Side effect? Is that what you think this is? A side effect?"
"Well, what the hell else am I supposed to call it? You won't tell me a damn thing, and I understand why you don't want to, but Jesus, Ziva, I have no idea how to convince you that this place is safe. You've seen this place. You've seen how we've learned to defend it, how to guard it. It's more secure than the Warehouse ever was."
"And I'm telling you that it's not enough," she said, her voice suddenly tired. "You don't understand. You've been away from the city so long, you've forgotten to be afraid. Your fear of the Bloods has turned into a distant nightmare, but I know that their ferocity has not dwindled. They have gained in numbers and ordnance, and their sphere of influence has grown tenfold. Damon is no fool, and warfare is his element. He will tear this place down around your ears in his pursuit of me, and I refuse to let that happen. I will not allow you, or Tali, or Sergei, or anyone else here to fall victim to the twisted cruelty of the Bloods."
She stood then, swiftly positioning her crutches under her. Her agility emphasized the very real weight behind her promise—her vow to leave as soon as she was able—and it filled Gibbs with a trepidation he had not felt in a long time.
"Ziva, please…"
She paused in her departure, and brown eyes that were once familiar stared back down at him. They were filled with sorrow, guilt, and, more than anything, despair.
"I'm sorry, Jethro." Her voice was low, and heavy. "But I can't let any of you die for me. For you to lose all of this you've created, because of me." She turned away, her focus shifting back to the picturesque view of Sanctuary afforded her. Her expression was so sorrowful, it broke Gibbs' heart, even as she imparted four last words.
"I'm not worth it."