Tony POV

Knock, knock

He glanced at his clock its just gone 3 am, who was at his door at this ungodly hour? It was probably the teenagers from the floor below causing a nuisance again. Groaning some more he dragged himself out of bed and was ready to shout at them as he aggressively swung open the door when his voice died in his throat. Standing in front of him was his partner in a state that he had never seen. Her top was ripped and barely hanging off of her shoulder which was an alarming shade of red. But that wasn't what concerned him. Ziva David looked small, not in the height sense mind you. Ziva was rather petite really but you'd never say she looked small by the way she carried herself, but that's exactly how she looked. Her eyes were trained at the floor, shoulder hunched like she was trying her best to be invisible. Something was really wrong. Tony realised that he was just staring and opened the door for her to come in still in shock as to what to say. She tentatively stepped into the apartment and he noticed her jump a little as the door clicked shut. Just as he was about to ask what had happened she spoke first.

"I am sorry for disturbing you, I just need to clean myself up, grab a shirt and some money for a cab and I will leave you be" she states calmly. Clearly trying to answer Tony's unasked questions while giving as little information away as possible.

"Ziva what…..are you okay?"

"yes I am fine like I said I just need to clean up and I will be on my way."

Tony still in some manner of shock and his brain being not fully awake and not completely sober silently gestures towards his bathroom and she heads in.

He stands there motionless trying to process everything that's just happened. That look she had in her eyes, it was a look he hadn't seen since the hood was pulled off her head in som-that place. He knew that something horrific must of happened to her to bring that look out. No matter how much she protested she was fine Ziva's eyes always told a different story. Ziva had never spoken to him about what Saleem and his men did to her, or told anyone any more than she had to Tony suspected. Some selfish part of him liked it this way, if she confirmed any of what he thought occurred in there a part of him would break. Tony knew this line of thinking was awful, after all she was the one who went through it not him. But the thought of anything happening to her, Tony gulped feeling ill. He finally forces his feet to move and goes to grab her a change of clothes.


Ziva pov

The water stung as it washed over the slash in her shoulder, she examined it carefully, it's not deep enough to need stitches but she'll have to keep it covered to avoid infection. That was some good news it meant no hospital. Her hand drifted to the scars that surrounded it, burn marks down her arm and the whip marks that crisscrossed her back. A new one for the collection it seemed. She turned around to grab the shampoo intending to just get the blood and dirt out of her hair, she could wash it properly at home. As she turned though she caught sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. The face staring back at her is something she never wanted to see again.

Huddled in the corner of the room, knees drawn to her chest humming a quiet melody to herself. Ziva relented, she had shown weakness, no one, not even her, could hold out against torture indefinitely. The weapon of choice Saleem had chosen for the day was the one she had dreaded the most and yet knew it would come.

A few hours earlier

It had been, by her best guess, almost a month since she was captured and Saleem was beginning to get frustrated. None of his usual methods had worked on her; not the knife, whip, branding, cigarettes, chains, truth serum, fists, none of these particular tools were effective. By Ziva's list that left one thing he had yet to try. Mossad trains female officers in particular for this, the overriding message is to dissociate as best you can while still being aware of your surroundings. It's a hard line to walk Ziva doubted how well she could do it.

Ziva's sleep, well what counted for sleep in her current environment, was interrupted by the familiar bang of the metal door. Two of Saleem's men picked her up, she did not fight. Instead of putting her in the chair that sat in the middle of the room, as had become routine, they dragged her out into the hallway. For an instance she had hope that someone had come for her, that she was getting out. This hope was soon dashed by the grin plastered on Saleem's face.

"Ah Ziva I hope you had a good night's rest, you're going to need your strength" he sneered with a look in his eyes that made her sick to her stomach. She did not respond. "My men have been busy sweet Ziva building a nice little room for you, for us. Shall we have a look?"

She is shoved into the room two doors down from her cell, falling to the floor her legs too weak to support her. She gathers herself together and looks around, freezing at the sight. It is a small room but well-lit about the size of a closet and over every surface; mirrors. It was the first Ziva had seen her reflection in weeks and she didn't recognise the weak broken women in front of her. She let a small whimper at the desperation of the situation before her.

"Try and block this out now my pet" Saleem laughed at her as the realisation dawned in her eyes. He knew of Mossad's training; he was smart and well-informed she had to give him that. It would be near impossible to block out what was happening when it was staring her right in the face.

"Shut your eyes and I'll slash your throat" he states simply and the assault begins.


Tony pov

Tony had been pacing the length of his apartment for 10 minutes. He pulled out his phone twice, finger hovering over Gibbs' number. Something stopped him though; she had come to him not Gibbs and until he had more information he'd leave the boss alone. After all, this was Ziva, she'd probably kill him for telling anyone. Ten more minutes pass by and Tony starts to get concerned, she's taking too long. Just as he's about to knock on the bathroom door to check she's okay a bloodcurdling scream comes from the bathroom and it doesn't stop, Tony runs to the door not halting or thinking as he swings it open looking for the threat. All he finds is Ziva curled under the shower in a ball, rocking back and forth humming what sounds to him like a lullaby. It's not English she's muttering though but Hebrew he realises. His eyes briefly dart over her body and he bears witness to the sheer number of scars that now adorn her beautiful olive skin. She doesn't react to his presence staying tightly in her protective ball. Tony reaches over to turn off the shower and then grabs a towel before stepping into the shower with her. He bends down and wraps her into the towel pulling her into his embrace. Tony just sits there holding her whispering into her ear that she was safe, that she was in his apartment and no one was there. You pick up a thing or two on how to help people out of a flashback when you hang around the Navy long enough.

It takes a few minutes before Tony feels Ziva's muscles release their tension and her eyes come back into focus. They switch quickly from fear to confusion and ending in what to Tony almost looks like peace and comfort. It's a look that strangely reminds him of his mother, a weird thought to be having at this moment he's aware. Ziva's eyes always spoke loudly and right now they were reminiscent of a child finding comfort in their parents' arms. This look sparked a memory of his mother that Tony had all but forgotten. He must have been around 5 years old and in a shopping centre somewhere with his mother when he had wandered off (probably to see some cool toy car or something). He was only gone from his mom for 5 minutes but the fear followed by a sense of safety when he was buried in her arms is what struck so close to home in this moment. In this instance Ziva, strong independent Ziva, was the vulnerable child and Tony was the trusted protector. A role he never thought he'd be in. He just hoped he could be strong enough for her and that she could be strong enough to let him in.

Disappointingly and rather predictably Ziva tenses and the steely Mossad persona returns.

"Tony" her voice is low and hoarse "I am sorry for what you just saw, but I am fine these things happen from time to time but it is nothing to be concerned about."

She stands up to get out of the shower. Tony grabs her wrist, a move he realises is probably not wise to do to someone with her training who has just come out of a flashback but he's too angry to think.

"FOR FUCK SAKES ZIVA" he explains, she braces in his grip and tries to move away backing into the open bathroom doorway. "You are the furthest thing from fine, what do you think I haven't noticed how you've been since you've been back? Every loud noise causes you to flinch and ball your fists, you only ever wear long sleeves, you freeze up whenever anyone touches you. I mean seriously if you're telling me that's fine then sure Ziva I guess you're fine" Tony takes a breath, lowers his voice and releases her wrist "Admitting you're not completely okay is allowed you know; you are allowed to feel things it's what makes you human. Please Ziva, let me help. At least tell me what happened tonight" he begs. Tony looks into her eyes pleading with her to let him in, he's desperate. But there's nothing there. A steely look is all that meets him and he sags his shoulder in defeat. He barely hears the "I am fine" that leaves her lips as she brushes past him like nothing happened.

Tony's no longer angry just defeated. This isn't the first time he's tried to get her to let him in but he's running out of patience. It's not like they were just work colleagues they were friends, partners. They had each other's back through everything and trusted each other with their lives. Yet apparently that's not enough for her. She knew how he felt about her how much he worried and cared, he had all but said it. And if she couldn't trust him with an ounce of her genuine feelings then….. well he didn't know what that meant. Clearly she was going through more than she had been letting on since getting back, which Tony had suspected, but he'd assumed that if it got to bad she'd tell him. He'd opened up a lot to her about his life in the past and to not have that reciprocated was, complicated. He knew she needed time to talk but this much time was unhealthy and it was frustrating for him to have to stand back and watch her lose herself.

He's so wrapped up in his head he doesn't realise she's got changed into the shirt he left and is already on the phone. "thank you Tony, sorry for disturbing your evening ill go get a cab" she turns to leave and reaches the door before Tony finally gets out of his head to try and stop her, "Ziva" he starts but she's already out the door. The stress of the past forty minutes caught up to him and feeling too overwhelmed for his brain to process any of it he collapsed on the sofa and passed out.