×ֲ׊ָ×׊××֚ת (chashashot)
Tony spends too many years worrying about Ziva David. (TW/CW: non-graphic references to captivity and assault.)
Another answer to the @giveusourtivapromptsâ 1k-words-or less challenge to write a Truth or Consequences fic including the line âYou could have died.â The title is a Hebrew word and its transliteration: ×ֲ׊ָ×׊××֚ת, a noun meaning âworries, fears, or concerns (about something or someone)â.
Tony can feel Ziva watching him during the bumpy Jeep ride back to civilization and, anxious, he speaks before she can.
âI know what youâre gonna say, Ziva. âYouâre an idiot for following me! You could have died.â But the truth is, we havenât gotten much sunlight in Washington recently and I thought going closer to the equator would help me tan. Itâs really just a happy coincidence that you were here, too.â
Ziva doesnât answer, which is no surprise. In the silence that follows, Tony realizes something: finding her alive doesnât at all stop him from worrying about her.
In fact, heâs more worried now than heâs ever been.
They eventually patch things up and (somewhat awkwardly) salvage their friendship. Things start to look up: Ziva quits Mossad and slips around the obstacles preventing her from becoming an official NCIS special agent.
Itâs almost enough to convince Tony that sheâs as fine as she says she is, that what happened in the desert has stopped haunting herâŚ
Itâs nearly believable until Ziva is accosted during a routine investigation; unexpectedly, a man leaps from a closet and tackles her. She fights him off before Tony can help, but for a brief moment, sheâs pinned down by someone twice her size. Tony has time to observe just one detail in that split second: thereâs wild panic in her eyes.
Once the attacker is cuffed and placed in the backseat, Tony blocks the passenger door to stop Ziva from getting in.
âWhat do you want?â she asks, her voice soft, dangerous; she reminds Tony of a snake, coiled to strike.
âAbout what just happened⌠Are youââ
âI am fine.â Those three words are snarled with enough acid that Tony recoils, and when Ziva pushes past him to get in the car, he doesnât stop herâŚ
A nightmare wakes Tony around 0300; after tossing and turning for a few minutes, he admits defeat and decides to be first in the office for once in his career. When he steps into the bullpen just after 0400, though, itâs clear that someone else beat him here.
âKinda early to be reorganizing files, isnât it?â Tony observes, tone neutral, when he finds Ziva doing just that.
Sheâs on the floor between their desks, surrounded by papers; she doesnât look up at him.
âI do not sleep much.â
Having noticed her exhaustion for months, Tony doesnât know how to answer this irrefutable statement.
Instead, he just worries.
Despite never having been to Tonyâs apartment before, Ziva shows up there unannounced one night. As soon as Tony opens the door and sees her, he knows that something is very wrong.
âGod, Ziva, what happened!?â
Concerned, Tony steps back, admitting her. Then he trails cautiously behind as she wanders to the living room and pauses, hugging herself and trembling. Her hair is loose and dripping wet; her skin is bright red like sheâs been badly sunburned.
âWhat happened?â Tony repeats when she doesnât say anything else; his voice sounds foreign to his own ears, gentle but pressing.
âI had a flashbackâI thought I was there again. Saleemâs men were⌠they were everywhere I looked. I could not get away. I could not get away.â Ziva jerks suddenly, her voice losing its distant quality. âThen I remembered where I was, but I could still feel their hands on me. I felt⌠dirty. I scrubbed and scrubbed myself, butââ She swallows roughly.
âWhen will I feel clean again?â
Breaking down suddenly, Ziva falls to her knees.
Terrified of touching her, Tony offers what little comfort he can: keeping his distance, he joins her on the floor and sits in silent vigil for all the things she will never get back.
Ziva sleeps on Tonyâs couch that night; she drifts off there out of sheer exhaustion, and he is unwilling to wake or move her.
Tony doesnât sleep that night, instead lying restlessly in his bed and listening for sounds of distress from his friend.
He hears nothing, but still, he worries.
Tony tries to talk to Ziva about last week, but she pretends not to hear him. He tries again later and gets the same result.
He gets the message loud and clearâshe doesnât want to talk. Aware that pushing her could do further harm, he resolves to say nothing until she initiates a conversation.
For now, heâll keep his worries to himself.
His resolve sticks, which means that the conversation never happens. Ziva doesnât bring it up, and things again return to their tentative normal. Tony really doesnât know what to do except follow her lead; everyone else seems to think sheâs fine.
Then, however, he misses her biggest milestoneâshe becomes a US citizen, finally free of the father who so casually sent her to die. Tony, busy with the cartel in Mexico, isnât there to support her.
When things settle, he offers Ziva an American flag pin for her backpack. The lame gift is small consolation for his broken promise.
âThank you,â Ziva says; her smile doesnât reach her eyes.
Tony adds guilt to his list of worries.
On a plane in Tel Aviv, Tony can still taste Zivaâs bittersweet kiss on his lips. Their mutual heartbreak now is his own fault; he should have done more to protect her, if only from herself.
When the plane departs, Tony knows that he failed his best friend.
Waiting for her and worrying was never going to be enough, was it?
They all watch on ZNN as Zivaâs farmhouse burns uncontrollably, and for Tony, time seems to stop. Six years of aching, six years of grief, six years of worrying⌠it has all led to this, and for what?
Ziva David is dead. Gone.
God, Tony wishes she was still around to worry over.
