Trigger warning for this chapter: Violence, mentions of rape and assault.
Sarah had not been sleeping well for a while. She had been staying at Gibbs' place, on his insistence that she was not in her apartment alone yet. He still could not reach Jordan to try to get him to return to D.C. and stay with her. Ziva watched her from the other side of the bullpen and recognized the signs she had once seen in herself. She had a soft spot for Sarah. While no two experiences are the same, she had a feeling that they were similar. Ziva wanted to make sure Sarah had someone for her the way that Ziva had in the past when she was hurt. She could see the pain hidden in her eyes and in her features. It was something she knew that she would try to internalize and resolve herself, but Ziva knew from her past experience that it was unhealthy and would make it worse. So, she offered for Sarah to stay with her a night or two. Gibbs agreed, only because the two women could help each other with their demons.
As they were getting up to leave, Gibbs called Ziva over. He handed her a small bag. She looked at it curiously.
"She packed long clothing to sleep in. It's the middle of summer; she will get hot. Try to have her sleep in her shorts. She's insecure, but she will be more comfortable and might sleep tonight." Ziva nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. She tucked the bag with hers and walked out with Sarah to the garage.
"I don't understand why you guys still won't let me go to my apartment by myself. I'm fine," Sarah insisted.
"Trust me, Sarah. I understand what you are saying. I need you to trust me tonight, ok?" She nodded slightly, turning her head toward the window. Her fingers played with a ribbon that had come off her purse. Ziva peaked at her wrists and saw scars peeking out of her long sleeves. She remembered what Gibbs said.
Sarah rushed inside when Ziva pulled into her place. She quickly changed out of work clothes and into her long PJs. Ziva knew that they would have to talk tonight, if not for anything else but to try to get Sarah to start talking about it so she could heal. She was surprised when Sarah brought it up first.
"Ziva, how did you deal with this?" Ziva took a seat on the couch near where Sarah had nestled into.
"What do you mean, Sare?"
"Well, I just assume that something similar happened to you."
"We can't really compare unless I know what happened." Sarah nodded.
"Fair." She leaned back and adjusted her collar. She was not comfortable in her long clothes, but it hid everything, and that's what she wanted.
"You can tell me anything. You are safe here." She shook her head.
"I can't do it again. Please." Ziva saw pain in her eyes. Pain and fear. The fear of Bruno still being out there terrified her. It showed heavily. She had wiped off her makeup, fully revealing her facial scar. That was the only one she let the team see. She tried to hide her pain, but Ziva read right through it. She reached out and grabbed her hand. Sarah look down at their hands with caution. She had built up protective walls to cope while captive, but they had been up so long, she forgot how to get around them.
"Show me. I am right here. I won't tell anyone you don't want me to."
"Not even Gibbs?" Ziva was shocked by that line. She knew she had a close bond with Gibbs. Her only thought was that something embarrassed her. She knew he was aware of some things Sarah told him, but she wondered what she did not share with him.
"Not even Gibbs if that's what you want. Let me help you, if you will allow." She handed her the PJ set Gibbs handed her before she left. "Go get comfortable, Sarah. You are safe here." She hesitated. She knew what it meant to put those shorts and t-shirt on. She cautiously reached for the clothing and stared at the pile in her hand. She slowly stood up and went to change. What Ziva saw when she got back shocked her.
Scars cross Sarah's skin in scattered, angry patterns – faded, fresh, healing. Deep, jagged welts trailed along her thighs and arms. Bruises were in various colors and stages. It was a map of pain, each mark telling a story Ziva didn't need words to understand. Sarah didn't meet her eyes. She tugged gently at the hem of the shirt, instinctively trying to cover more skin.
"You don't need to hide here," Ziva said softly. A silence settled. Sarah's hands stilled. Her eyes wandered up to meet Ziva's and for the first time, she did not look away.
"How did you manage? When someone you trusted betrayed you like this?" She waved to her injuries as she spoke. Ziva was silent. Although she had a similar experience, none were at this level of severity. She thought for a minute before responding. She motioned for Sarah to sit on the couch once more. Sarah curled onto the cushion, the folded position gave her a little more coverage, working against the weight growing inside her.
"I looked for someone that would listen and not judge. Someone who would be willing to see me cry and hear the most horrible stories." She reached her arms out. "Sarah, we are all that kind of person. And when we get in contact with Jordan, I know he will tell you the same thing."
Sarah looked down at her stomach. The debate she was having internally was screaming for her to tell Ziva everything, because she knew Ziva had probably seen and/or experienced most of it before. She noted similar faded scars on her.
"Ziva…" She stopped, scared to say it out loud. Fear was getting to her. The thought of the memory was beginning to make her shut down again. Suddenly, she was not in Ziva's apartment anymore. She was in that cold cell again. The chains were holding her to the hard floor. The cold metal stinging on her raw wrists and ankles. She could see his eyes, once trusting, now full of evil and pleasure. Once he had looked at her like a younger sister. Now it was a gaze that was as if she was a nice piece of meat. She could hear the clink of the chains as she struggled against them. The smell of the musty room mixed with his bad cologne lingered. She could see his tools of torture in the distance. For now, he was staring at her and removing his shirt. He unfastened his belt and let his pants drop to the ground. With an upturned smirk, he leaned over her. She could feel the bugle of his penis through his boxers hovering close to her body, as if to torture her more. His face was close to hers, and the bad smell of cigarettes and mints leaked from his mouth.
"You are now all mine." His smirk rang in his voice as he whispered into her ear. "I have wanted to do all this to you for a long time. It's fun." His dirty hands moved up what was left of her shirt and forcibly grabbed her breasts. He grabbed her body with force and pushed himself against her. He laughed at her struggle.
"No one is going to save you now." He moved a hand from her breast to her hair and forced his tongue into her mouth. She struggled, but his weight pinned her so tight, she could not move. Not taking his mouth off hers, he forced his boxers off and pulled what was left of her clothing, only breaking to pull the shirt over her head. Due to the chains, her pants and underwear pooled at her legs and her shirt at her wrists. He cut her bra and threw it away. He stood up to admire the marks he had placed on her naked body. She was shaking, trying to hide the tears. She bit her tongue, holding back screams. She knew what was going to happen.
"I get you all to myself. I won't share this work of art with anyone else." He knelt down again, using her fear to empower him and motivate him. He dragged his penis up between her breasts and down her body to just above her naval. She pulled at her chains as he forced himself inside her hard. She stifled a scream, accidentally spilling tears from the pain. He smiled.
"Did you like that you filthy slut?" he said to her. He kept up the forceful strokes, admiring the increasing volume in her screams and tinges of pain. "You are my sex toy now. I claim you." He pushed harder. She let out a loud yell, unable to hold back anymore. He laughed and kept going until he had orgasmed inside her, despite her screams.
"That's right. I will fuck you however I want." As rough as he entered her, he pulled out and stuck his sticky penis in her face. "Clean me slut with your mouth." He took his hand and entangled it in her hair so he could hold her head. He slapped her and pushed his penis farther in her mouth as he forced her to give him oral sex until he was satisfied, almost choking her. He cleaned himself off and redressed. He unlocked her chains enough only to remove the clothes and left her naked, chained, and dirty on the floor. He laughed and bent by her head once more.
"You are mine to fuck whenever I want slut." He laughed as he walked out of the room. The tears began to spill once he was gone.
Sarah did not realize she had said some of what happened out loud as the memory took over her senses. When she came to, she realized her face was wet from tears, her body shaking, and Ziva was holding her. She didn't have to know all the details to understand. She had been raped many times as a captive by sadistic men.
"How many times? Do you know?" She shook her head.
"I lost count. Sometimes many times a day." She panicked immediately. "Please don't tell anyone!" Ziva nodded and pulled her tight. She started to see the terrified young woman that she hid so well from the rest of the team. As she cried, Ziva looked at some of the scars more closely. She could only imagine the events that led to each mark. She brushed her hair back from her face that was soaked with tears so her hair would not stick. Sarah turned her head into Ziva's shirt. Her sobs lessened but the tears kept falling. In that moment, she felt safe with Ziva. She was still afraid, but she felt safe to open up about her experience and felt like she understood.
When she calmed, Ziva stood up and headed to her bathroom. She returned with a white tube.
"This should help the scarring." She handed Sarah the tube. "It helped me." She sat down and gave her another hug. "It will get better with time. I won't lie to you. It won't be easy. But it will get better. And if you ever want to talk, I'm always here."