Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“There’s still time for you to change your mind.” Tony said, knowing his effort was futile. Looking down, he sighed. This was it. This was how they ended. “What am I gonna tell people?”

“That you were right. I have to start over.” Ziva knew what she needed to do. 

“Ok, you and I both know that’s not gonna be enough for Abby.” Or me, Tony thought. What about me?

“Tell her that I am honoring Gibbs.”

“Gibbs?” What could Gibbs possibly have to do with any of this? He doesn’t even know I found you, Tony thought. But of course, Gibbs knew everything. 

“‘Stop this for him.’”

“Of course. Gibbs.” A surrogate father to everyone. A man of few words, a great listener, an avid woodworker. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. 

“I want to make him proud. He taught me to follow my heart, and I know that I have to…I have to do this alone. I have to let go of everything, or I will be pulled back to where I started.” A ruthless killer, not afraid, even when I should be; not human, Ziva thought. I can’t go back to that. “Tell Abby that for me. She’ll understand.”

“I will.” I will understand one day, but today’s not that day. Not yet. 

“Tony…you are so…” Everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I told myself I would never and could never have. 

“Handsome. Funny. What?” There’s that stupid humor again, DiNozzo. Why do you always have to make a joke?

“Loved.”

“You, Ms. David, based on the date of your last period, are about five weeks along. It’s still too early to do an ultrasound, but we can certainly schedule one for the appropriate time, if you’d like.” Ziva felt like she’d just gotten the wind knocked out of her. She couldn’t be pregnant. She’d just sent the man she loved away for good. She’d lost all of the people she’d once called family. Sure, she knew she was pregnant after taking a test the morning of Tony’s departure, but hearing the doctor say it felt so…real. Too real. “Or we can discuss other options, if you’d prefer.” The doctor saw Ziva’s shock, and wasn’t too sure if this was happy news. 

“No, I…” Abortion wasn’t what she wanted, right? She might not be ready to be a mother, but she could figure it out, maybe. Maybe she’d be able to figure it out. No abortion. “I do not want an abortion. I am just, in shock, I suppose.” What happened to that Mossad poker face, Ziva? Never show any emotion. Never let anyone know how you feel. 

“It’s quite alright to be shocked. I presume this wasn’t planned.” The doctor didn’t want to pry, but she simply wanted to put her patient at ease. 

“No.” Ziva didn’t want to expand any further. Her business was hers, no one else’s. She was already embarrassed enough to even be at the doctor. 

“Why don’t you take some time. Think about your options. Nothing has to be decided today.” Ziva nodded. “I will go ahead and schedule your next appointment, at 8 weeks. You can always change it if you'd like.” 

Ziva nodded again. She had no words. Nothing else to say. What could be said? “In the meantime, I’d suggest you try to take good care of yourself. Crackers, ginger ale, tea, water, apples, bread; they’re going to be your friends. Not everyone experiences nausea and vomiting, but it’s best to be prepared for the worst.” Disaster planning was definitely Ziva’s strong suit. Always being prepared for every possible outcome. 

“Toda.” Ziva gave, watching her doctor leave the room, leaving her all alone. Well, not all alone.

“This is not right. We should not be doing this.” Ziva had had a momentary lapse in judgment. He was there, and he was him. He was baring his soul to her, and she couldn’t reciprocate. Maybe she felt bad. Maybe she felt sorry for him. Maybe she was just trying to numb the pain. Either way, leading him to her childhood bedroom and falling into bed with him wasn’t the plan. It was a mistake. It was against the rules. Rule #12: Never date a coworker. While there wasn’t any official fine print, if there had been, it would say that Rule #12 is all-encompassing and includes any and all romantic or otherwise non-platonic feelings or actions towards a coworker, including but not limited to: professing one’s feelings, kissing, ‘red light’ touching, and sex. Definitely no sex. 

"Yeah, you’re totally right." Tony ran his hand down her thigh, tracing her inner thigh tattoo with his thumb. "This is so very bad. We definitely shouldn’t be doing this." Suddenly, his hand had traveled further north, and Ziva forgot what she’d been saying and thinking. After a bit, she wasn’t even sure she remembered her name. 

"I’m serious, Tony. We really should not be doing this." She’d been saying that for nearly two weeks, but every attempt she made at furthering the conversation was shot down by Tony. 

"Ziva, we’re not partners anymore. We’re not coworkers. You’re not an agent anymore. You don’t belong to any agency anymore. We’re not breaking any rules, legally binding or otherwise. There is nobody and nothing telling us we shouldn’t do this." Tony wondered how long it would take her to realize he was right. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he knew he’d spend as much time as he could trying to get her to understand his view. 

"Gibbs would not approve." She was definitely right about that, that much she knew. Gibbs had rules for a reason.

"No, he wouldn’t, but he basically gave me carte blanche. He told me to do what I needed to do, and that’s exactly what I’m doing. I needed this. You needed this. We needed this." Tony sighed, lifting his head up  onto his hand to get a better view of her. "Ziva, we’ve spent the last nine years skirting around this thing. We used every excuse in the book. Gibbs’ rules, the team, other people, ruining our friendship. Everything has just prolonged the inevitable. We were meant to be, and we were the only ones who didn’t see it." Tony leaned down to kiss her and smiled into her mouth when she reciprocated. 

"Carte blanche or not, I doubt he would be pleased with us." 

"Who cares? I’m tired of letting his rules dictate everything in my life." Tony took in a deep breath, still trying to get his heart rate down after their recent activities. "Gibbs doesn’t get to know everything all the time. This one thing, just this once, can be kept between us." 

Yeah, kept between us. So much for that, Ziva thought, looking down at the small bump that had formed over the past 12 weeks. It was barely noticeable. It was only known to someone who knew her body. She could tell, of course. She was pretty sure Tony would be able to tell if he looked for long enough. Gibbs could probably tell, simply because he was so damn observant. Other than that, no one else would be able to tell. It was still early. She hadn’t told anyone. Not Tony, not Gibbs, not Adam. No one. The only people that knew were herself and the medical staff at her doctor’s office.

Sometime around week nine, when Ziva had officially decided she was keeping the baby, she decided to dig up the new list of Wills she and Tony had made. They were still relevant, even given the change in circumstances. 

I will let go of the badge. 

I will learn to trust people. 

I will learn to ask for help. 

I will learn to show emotions when necessary. 

I will learn to live for myself, not for other people. 

I will find what makes me happy. 

Maybe this baby would be her happy. Maybe she’d get a happy ending in the form of a perfect, tiny human being that was half her and half Tony. Maybe. 

Ziva decided she was going to make a new list of Wills. Her life was no longer just about her, so her Wills should reflect as such. 

I will learn to love my child like they deserve. 

I will be the best mother I can possibly be. 

I will learn to ask for help. 

I will let myself be happy. 

I will tell him when the time is right. 

I will let him be the father I know he can be. 

I will learn to live for us. 

Chapter Text

Nearly 20 weeks had gone by since Ziva had her pregnancy confirmed and she still had trouble wrapping her head around it. She was well into her second trimester, almost into her third, and she still couldn’t believe she was having a baby. Tony’s baby. They’d had no contact since she sent him away on that plane nearly 20 weeks ago. No contact. No phone calls, texts, emails, letters; nothing. Sometimes, if she tried hard enough, she could almost forget whose baby she was carrying, and she could act like the baby was all hers. It was easier that way. Easier to pretend there was no father; he wasn’t the father. Easier than facing the truth: she had been hiding the fact that she was carrying his child, their child, and she had been hiding it since the morning before he left. Things were just so much easier if she tried her best to almost forget the baby wasn’t his. 

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Adam Eshel, childhood friend of all the David children, but especially Ziva, had been a godsend to Ziva during her pregnancy. Things were awkward, at first. Ziva decided he would be the third person she told, after her aunt and Shmeil, and so she told him around 14 weeks. No matter how much he’d tried to hide it, she knew, when she first told him, she knew the first thing that had gone through his mind was a question of paternity. They’d had sex, only once, but that was all it took. Logically, he knew it was practically impossible for him to be the father, but she knew that didn’t stop him from questioning it. Not aloud, though. To quell his concerns, she told him the baby was Tony’s, and from then on, he was great. He didn’t ask too many questions, he listened and gave advice, he knew when to step back and when to step up, and he was there for her in a way that was almost exactly what she needed. Almost. 

“He has a whole career and life in DC, Adam. When he left, I told him I had to do this alone. He did not know about the baby, but I did. I found out the morning before he left. I meant that I had to find myself and raise my baby alone.” Ziva hated when Adam did ask these questions. She knew he didn’t exactly like Tony, but she also knew he believed Tony had a right to know. Ziva knew Adam was just trying to get Ziva to do what was best for the baby, but she appreciated it when he didn’t ask too many questions. 

“What about the baby? Do you not want him there for the birth? Does he not deserve to know his child?” Adam’s father had walked out on his mother when he was just five years old. He’d never really known his father, and he’d always been so mad at the world for what his father did. 

“My baby is not you, Adam. It is not the same in the slightest. I walked away. Me. I’m choosing what I believe to be best for me and my child. You have been so…great. I appreciate your help and your support. I would like to continue to appreciate you, but I cannot if you will not drop this issue. When and if I decide to tell Tony, it will be my choice, between me and him. Please do not think that just because I told you and not him, I value your opinion or your feelings more than I value mine or his. You are my friend, not my boyfriend, or my father, or the father of my child. You get no say.” Adam nodded and quickly decided to drop the issue. And the issue was not brought up again. 

"Give me a reason to stay, Ziva. Give me a reason to not get on that plane in,” Tony glanced at his watch, calculating the amount of time until his flight, "17 hours. Give me a reason to stay here with you, in this bed, and never leave again. Give me a reason."

I think I’m pregnant. Ziva wanted to scream that at the top of her lungs. She wanted him to stay. She wanted to be able to give him a reason to stay. She couldn’t. She had to let him go. She had to let him move on from her. She had to move on. 

"I cannot." Ziva’s breath hitched in her throat. She hated how she felt about him. She was in love. So hopelessly, undoubtedly in love with him, but she couldn’t tell him that. They both needed to move on, and professing their love for each other certainly was not going to help that. 

"Damn, Ziva." Tony was so frustrated. The past month with her had been absolutely amazing and infuriating. He wasn’t ready to let go, and he was trying everything to be able to stay. 

"We cannot keep doing this. It is time to let go." Tony just rolled his eyes as he climbed out of the bed and started to redress. 

"I’m getting on that plane tomorrow, Ziva, and I’m not planning on looking back." Tony loved her, more than she would ever know, but he couldn’t keep hoping she’d get over herself and admit her feelings for him. He couldn’t hold that hope for the rest of his life. At some point, they both had to move on. 

"It’s you and me, motek. Please be kind." Ziva gently ran her hand over her bump as she looked at the task in front of her: a not-yet-constructed nursery. She knew she should probably ask for help, but she was still having a hard time with that specific Will. She was fiercely independent. She was trained to be as such, and she couldn’t just let that go so easily. Not yet. 

For the next few hours, Ziva worked on the nursery for her child, and it was therapeutic, in a way. She was healing her inner child. She was giving her baby the things they deserved, and the things that had been slowly taken from Ziva as she grew older. Things were going great. Ziva got the crib put together, washed and dried all of the gender neutral clothes the bought, and put up most of the decorations. She’d picked a simple beach theme. She loved the beach, and she wanted her child to associate the beach with happiness, even if subconsciously. When Ziva was hanging the last picture, though, things took a turn. 

Ziva had hung five pictures without a hitch. A picture of the beach in Haifa, a picture of the beach in Los Angeles, a picture of a beach Ziva once saw in Bali, a picture of Ziva’s parents and siblings, and a picture Ziva had taken with the team. They were all very significant pictures, but the last one she’d attempted to hang was the most important. It was a picture of her and Tony in Paris. She’d gone back and forth about keeping it, let alone hanging it in the nursery. She’d ultimately decided to hang it, though, because she secretly wanted to see Tony when she was up with the baby. She knew it would make her feel like he was there with her, even if her stupid heart wouldn’t let that actually happen. Unfortunately, though, the sixth picture couldn’t be hung without a hitch. Ziva had to hang it high enough that the baby wouldn’t be able to reach it even when they started standing up, and Ziva wanted to hang it over the crib. She knew it probably wasn’t the best idea, but she’d make sure the picture was practically bolted to the wall. She’d climbed up onto the ladder, started hammering the first nail, and then felt a kick. Sure, she’d felt her baby kick before, but it was still shocking. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to it. She managed to recover quickly, and continued her original task. When she went to hammer a second nail, she was surprised by another kick, but this time, she lost her balance at the sudden jolt, and due to the change in her center of gravity, she couldn’t save herself. She fell, hitting her belly on the crib on the way down. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Tony had been…miserable. In the five months since he’d gotten on that plane, he’d been miserable. Sure, he tried to hide it from everyone, even himself. He was Anthony DiNozzo Jr, he didn’t get all heartbroken over a woman. He was the heartbreaker. He made women cry over him, not the other way around. Ziva David wasn’t just any woman, though. She was the woman. She was the love of his life. When he’d gotten on that plane, he’d left his heart in Israel. 

When he got a phone call from Adam Eshel, he felt like his heart stopped. He’d left his heart in Israel, and his heart was in danger. Ziva was in danger, and he had no idea what had happened or how, but he knew she was in danger. 

"Anthony DiNozzo?" The mystery voice asked, sounding very familiar to Tony. 

"Yes, this is him. Who is this?" Tony had made it a practice to answer all phone calls, even when he didn’t recognize the number. This number he didn’t recognize, but he did recognize it as the Israel international code. Whoever was calling him was doing so from Israel. 

"Adam Eshel." 

"Ok, and to what do I owe this non-pleasure?" It’s not that Tony didn’t like Adam, but Tony didn’t like Adam. Sure, Adam had helped him track down Ziva, but Tony was jealous of him. Tony was jealous of Adam, and that jealousy probably would never go away. 

"It’s Ziva." Adam wasn’t even sure how he was to go about this phone call, but he knew he had to tell Tony, no matter how mad Ziva would be. 

"What happened?" Tony had tried his hardest to believe that Ziva was off living her best life within the past five months. He had to believe she was better off without him, because if he didn’t, he’d always wonder what would’ve happened if he’d stayed. 

"I’m not exactly sure, and I can’t really say what I do know. What I know and can tell you is that something happened and Ziva was rushed to the hospital.” Adam thought it was important for Tony to know, but he also still wanted Ziva to be the one who told him about the baby. Tony deserved to hear the news from Ziva. 

"Where?" And within 4 hours, Tony was on a plane to Israel. 

Tony stared at her through the dim candlelight, and he was sure he was staring at the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Her hair was in its natural curls, her face was bare, and she was wearing a simple tank top and shorts, but she was gorgeous to him. 

"What are you staring at?" Ziva knew he was staring at her, and she’d only asked to pull him out of his thoughts. 

"I think the more apt question is: at whom am I staring? And the answer to that question is you. I am staring at you." Tony smiled, and she was pretty sure she fell even more in love with him. 

"I look horrible, Tony. Why would you possibly want to be staring at me?" She hated her hair when it was curly, hence why she usually kept it straight. She hated her face bare of makeup, hence why she usually wore makeup. She didn’t feel as beautiful as Tony made her seem. 

He’d pieced together a semi-romantic candlelit dinner with things he’d found around the house. He wasn’t the world’s best cook, but he could hold his own in the kitchen, and he’d figured grand gestures would make his feelings blatantly obvious to Ziva. 

"You look beautiful." Even through the candlelight, Tony could tell Ziva blushed at his compliment. 

"You could have at least told me to dress nicer after I got out of the shower." Ziva looked down at her clothes and felt underdressed. Sure, Tony was only wearing a simple dress shirt and jeans, but she could’ve at least worn pants. 

"Again, you look beautiful. I couldn’t care less if you are wearing a floor-length ball gown or nothing at all; you will always be beautiful." Ziva chuckled lightly, and Tony knew he’d won her over with that comment. 

"I have been thinking a lot." Tony found the sudden change in conversation a little strange, but he decided to just go with it. She clearly needed to talk, and he wasn’t about to stop her. 

"Yeah? About what?" 

"Something my father asked me before he died. I accidentally showed him that picture of me from the undercover assignment where I wore a fake pregnancy belly. He said I looked happy. He asked me what I told people when they asked if it was a boy or a girl." 

"And?"

"I told them it was a girl." Ziva had once seen herself maybe having children, but she hadn’t really thought about it in a long while. Things had changed far too much. Somalia, the Naval Yard bombing, her father’s death, Bodnar’s death, and now her departure from NCIS. Things were just too different; too unpredictable. She couldn’t willingly subject a child to that. 

"Are you trying to tell me something?" It had only been about four weeks since Tony’s arrival at the house. 

"No. Besides, even if I was…it would be too soon to tell." Ziva sighed. She didn’t really know where she was going with this. She was just trying to show him that she was trying to open up. 

"Ok. So if you’re not…then where are you going with this?" Tony hadn’t really thought about kids. 

"I do not know, really. It just randomly popped into my head, and I cannot stop thinking about it." It frustrated her, really. Eli was gone, and maybe she was better off for it. She found herself missing him, at times, and then she got mad at herself for missing him. He was a horrible father, but he was still her father. 

"You know you don’t need kids to make his corpse proud." It was crude, Tony knew, but truthful. 

"Of course, I know that, but that does not stop me from wondering if kids would have made him love me more." Maybe kids would have repaired their relationship. Maybe kids would have salvaged what little was left. Maybe he would have been a better grandfather than he was a father. 

"Ziva, if you want kids, you should have them because you want them, not because you’ll spend your whole life feeling like your kids would’ve made him a better man." Tony sighed, taking a sip of the untouched wine. This was going to be a hefty conversation, and he needed some liquid courage. "Do you even actually want kids?" Tony wasn’t trying to be too presumptuous, but he figured this question would further the conversation. 

"At one time, maybe. There was a point, if only for a brief time, that I thought Ray was the one. I thought we would get married and have kids together. But after him, my desire for kids has seemed to fade away. I cannot subject children to the mess that is my life.”

"For what it’s worth, not that it’s worth much, I think you’d make a great mom." At that, Tony knew Ziva blushed. 

"I was like a second mother to Tali. Once, when she was almost three, she accidentally called me Ima. She was sick and had not slept well in days, and she was clearly embarrassed immediately after she said it. I never told our mother, and we never talked about it, but it made me feel something that I had never felt before and have not felt since." Ziva took a sip of the wine and pushed the food around on her plate for a while until she spoke again. "Thinking about my father has made me miss both my mother and Tali more." 

"Loss doesn’t really ever get easier, you just learn to stop thinking about them as much and the pain becomes easier to bury." Ziva nodded, agreeing with him. They understood each other’s loss better than most. 

“It is stupid to keep thinking about children. It is a non-issue, and I should stop dwelling on the past.” And just like that, she put the walls back up and placed the guards back into place. 

“Please tell me she’s ok.” Tony said, meeting Adam in the airport after landing in Tel Aviv. Adam had told him that Ziva had been transported from a small local hospital in Be’er Sheva to a bigger hospital in Tel Aviv. 

“She’s alive, but in critical condition.” Adam had visited the hospital and gotten a complete rundown from the doctors. He knew pretty much exactly what was wrong with Ziva, but he still didn’t think it was his place to tell Tony. 

“What the hell happened? I mean, we haven’t seen or spoken to each other in five months, so I’m completely lost. Was something wrong with her before, or was this an accident? Is she sick?” Ziva was practically the picture of health. She was strong and resilient. She didn’t get sick, and she didn’t get hurt. If she did get hurt, she took an ‘it only hurts if you let it’ approach. 

“I do know what happened, but I’m not going to tell you. You should hear it from the doctors and Ziva. She’s not dying, and that’s really all I can tell you.” Needless to say, the car ride to the hospital was extremely uncomfortable. 

“Doctor, this is Anthony DiNozzo. He’s a friend of Ziva’s. She trusts him. He needs answers, and I’m not really sure what to tell him.” Adam quickly introduced Tony to one of Ziva’s doctors, and the doctor quickly accepted the information she was being told and started giving Tony a rundown. 

“She was transferred to us from a smaller hospital yesterday after a fall off a ladder. She hit something on the way down. As well as the blunt force trauma to her abdomen, she hit her head on the tile floor, resulting in a concussion. After performing an abdominal ultrasound, we found a rupture in her spleen. We rushed her into surgery and removed her spleen. Normally, a splenic removal would be a routine procedure, but given her current condition, the surgery was far more complicated. Good news: she is stable. She’s in recovery, but still in critical condition. The baby is stable, but is the reason why she’s considered critical.” That was a lot of information for Tony to take in all at once, but he eventually processed it all. Wait. Baby? What baby?

“I’m sorry, you said the baby is stable. What baby?” Surely it was a mistake. There was no baby, right? Right?

“I’m sorry, I thought you knew.” Tony shook his head a little, still confused as to what the doctor was trying to tell him. “Ms. David is 25 weeks pregnant.”

Pregnant. 25 weeks. Six months. What? Tony felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like all of the air had been sucked from his lungs. Pregnant. Was it his? It had to be. Even if she’d been with somebody since he’d left, he was the only person she’d been with around the necessary timeframe. He was the father, right? God, he had so much to talk to Ziva about.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Pregnant. As he sat by her bedside, waiting for her to wake up, he stared at the ever-visible bump covered by the hospital gown and blanket. She was pregnant with what he was pretty sure was his baby. Their baby. She was pregnant with their baby. 

Why didn’t she tell him? She’d obviously known by now, so he knew that wasn’t it. She’d probably known for quite some time, so why hadn’t she told him?

He had a right to know, right? If he was the father, which he was pretty sure he was, why hadn’t she told him? Did she still not trust him? After all this time, did she still not trust him? Or did she want to do it on her own? Did she really want to be a single mother? Did she not think it was his? Was it his? God, he had so many questions. 

"I thought she should tell you, but she was adamant that she wanted to do it alone. She didn’t want to ruin the life you had in DC.” Adam gave, seeing the internal conflict going on in Tony’s mind. 

Tony scoffed. His life in DC had been miserable since she’d left. He’d have given up everything in a heartbeat for her and that baby. Hell, he’d gotten on that plane as fast as he could, and he hadn’t even really known what was wrong. 

"No offense, but I’d rather hear her reasons from her, not you." Adam nodded, putting up his hands in mock surrender. 

"I’m going to go down to the cafeteria. Do you want anything?" Tony shook his head, and just like that, Adam was out of the room and they were alone. 

"Really, Ziva? A baby?" Tony had no idea if she could hear him, but he had a lot to get off his chest and he couldn’t wait until she woke up. "I mean, a fucking baby? A tiny human being that’s half you and half me. A new life. A baby." Really, he was still trying to wrap his head around the information he’d just learned. 

Tony sat there for what seemed like an eternity just staring and brooding and attempting to wrap his head around the impending baby. A normal pregnancy was, what, 40 weeks? The doctor said she was 25 weeks, so they had about 15 weeks until the baby was set to be born. 15 weeks. Less than four months to prepare himself to be a father. That wasn’t nearly enough time. Usually, people had nine months, at least. That didn’t include the pre-prep that happened when a couple decided to try for a baby. He was screwed. He’d be ok, though, right? He’d have her. She’d be a great mom. She’d be amazing and loving and caring. She’d be great, and he’d be ok. 

"Mmm." Ziva groaned, jolting awake about an hour after Tony arrived. Immediately, Tony was on his feet and gripping her hand, gently pulling her out of unconsciousness. 

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty." Tony offered her that stupid, cocky grin, and even in her altered state she knew exactly how in love with him she was. 

"The baby! The baby!" Ziva suddenly became aware of her surroundings and the past events and started trying to get out of the bed. Tony gently pushed her back down. He definitely didn’t need her ripping her stitches. 

"The baby’s ok. The doctor said you and the baby are ok." Tony knew just from that reaction alone that she’d be an amazing mom. 

As Ziva gathered her bearings, she became more and more aware of where she was and who she was with. Tony. Why the hell was Tony in a hospital in Tel Aviv? Shouldn’t he be in DC? Why was he there, with her, with them ?

“What are you doing here?” Ziva hadn’t planned to ever tell him about the baby, but if that time ever did come, she definitely didn’t want to do it like this. 

“I called him.” And suddenly, Adam reappeared in the doorway and that jealousy bubbled up inside of Tony all over again. Now that he knew Ziva was ok, he didn’t really see a reason for Adam to be there anymore. He could go. He’d done his job as the knight in shining armor and passed the baton to the real knight in shining armor, and now he could go. 

“And who said you could do that?” Ziva glared at the man, although Tony wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t also glaring at him. 

“He had a right to know, Ziva. I know you were insistent that you could do this alone, but it’s his baby too. He deserved to know.” Ziva just rolled her eyes and attempted to turn away from him. Even though she couldn’t move in the bed, he understood the message she was trying to get across, and he decided that it would be best for everyone if he left again and gave the couple some time alone. 

“He’s right. I never thought I’d find myself saying this, but he’s right. I had a right to know. It is my baby, right?” Tony knew he really didn’t need to ask, but he had to know for sure. When Ziva nodded, he continued. “It’s your baby, yes, but it’s also my baby; our baby. I had a right to know.”

Ziva chose not to say anything, and Tony took it as her not wanting to discuss the issue. He couldn’t exactly blame her, so he decided to not press the issue. They’d have time to talk about everything when she got out of the hospital. For now, it was best to focus on making sure she recovered. Her and the baby’s health was more important than anything.

"It’s good to see you awake, Ms. David. How are you feeling?" The doctor walked in and both Tony and Ziva thanked God for the break in tension between them. 

Unfortunately, Ziva wasn’t feeling very open to talking with anyone, let alone a stranger. She simply shrugged, and Tony gently nudged her. She rolled her eyes, but obliged with his silent request. 

"I feel fine." This time, Tony rolled his eyes. When Ziva didn’t want to talk, she said she was ‘fine’. Of course, everyone knew she wasn’t actually fine, but it was just her way of telling everyone she didn’t want to talk. 

"Are you in any pain? We’ve given you what we can, but most medications aren’t safe during pregnancy. With that being said, if you are in pain, we can try another medication or a position change." The doctor recognized that her patient didn’t want to talk, but she had to at least try. 

Ziva sighed. She knew she wasn’t going to get anywhere if she didn’t talk, but she just felt so anxious. This whole situation made her unbelievably uncomfortable, and she hated that feeling. 

"I am in a little pain, but I think it is just the normal pain I felt before this. I am 25 weeks pregnant, after all." The doctor nodded, appreciating her patient’s honesty. 

"Ok. If you have an increase in pain or the pain starts to feel different, please don’t hesitate to press the call button and let the nurse know. A nurse will be in soon to change your dressing and make sure everything is healing correctly. For right now, it’s looking like you’ll be staying here for at least another night, if not two. If anything changes with that, I’ll be sure to let you know. Do you have any questions?" The doctor looked at both Ziva and Tony, and when both of them shook their heads, the doctor gave a curt nod and walked out of the room. 

"I do not want you here, Tony. I have never wanted you here, hence why I chose not to tell you. I would like you to leave." Both Tony and Ziva knew she was lying, but Tony recognized she was simply trying to protect herself. She felt like she had to protect herself from everyone and everything, and Tony knew that was a difficult habit to break.

"I’m not leaving, Ziva, but I will step out for a bit and give you some space. I’m not leaving, Ziva. I left you once, and I’m not ever doing that again." Ziva turned her head away from Tony so he couldn’t see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Tony gave one more moment to allow for Ziva to change her mind, but when she didn’t, Tony quietly left the room and started down the hall.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

"Would you care to tell me why you’re in Tel Aviv, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, talking to Tony over the phone. 

"I will tell you, Boss, but not yet. All I can say is my visit to Tel Aviv has everything to do with Ziva. That’s really all I can say right now." Tony really had no idea where to begin, so he decided to just avoid the problem. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it, but for now: deny, deny, deny. 

"When are you coming back?" Gibbs was pretty sure he knew Tony had no idea, but he figured he’d ask. 

"I…don’t know…if I am. I don’t know if I’m coming back." Tony loved his job at NCIS and the family he’d built in DC, but none of it mattered nearly as much as Ziva and their baby. 

"Well, if you do decide to come back, we’ll be here. I’ll work things out with Vance." Gibbs hadn’t exactly expected that answer, but he knew not to press. He’d known Tony long enough to learn to trust him, just like the younger man had learned to trust him. 

"Thank you, Boss. Tell Abby I’m sorry, and tell McGee not to touch anything on my desk." Tony could practically hear the smirk on Gibbs’ face as he hung up the call. 

God, why the hell did things always have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t he have the job he loved and the love of his life? When were things going to get easier? Were things ever going to get easier? 

"She loves you, you know." Aunt Nettie had shown up at the hospital around noon the day after Ziva was first taken to the hospital. Tony had never met this Aunt Nettie, but Ziva spoke highly of her the few times she’d mentioned her to him. Nettie was Eli’s sister, and from what he knew, she was nothing like Eli. Ziva basically described her as a second mother after Rivka died, and Tony liked Nettie just by Ziva’s description. 

“Yeah, well, I love her too." Tony sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. He hadn’t really slept in the past 48 hours, so he was exhausted, physically and mentally. 

"I have to say, you don’t seem like the Anthony DiNozzo Jr she described." Nettie seemed…disappointed. At what, Tony had no idea. She’d never met him before. What was she expecting? 

"Oh, yeah? And how did she describe me?" Tony was a little shocked that Ziva had described him to her aunt at all. Tony had just kind of accepted that Ziva had purged Tony from her life after he left Israel. He’d figured she’d wanted to just forgive and forget and move on. Maybe he was wrong. 

"A wild sense of humor. Kind and loyal, but also sarcastic, ruthless when it comes to pulling pranks and practical jokes. As well, she said you, just like her, are afraid of commitment, hence why you have a never-ending slew of one night stands." Tony rolled his eyes. He had hoped, just for a second, that Ziva had been nice when describing him to her aunt. Maybe he’d been right to assume Ziva had purged him from her life. 

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Tony sighed. He was exhausted, and he really didn’t have the energy to play Ziva’s games via her aunt. 

"But she also said there were a lot of good qualities about you, other than kindness and loyalty. She said you make her laugh, even when she’s crying. She said you are kind and loyal. She said you never back down from a fight. She said you’re a wild card, which I don’t really understand, but she made it seem like a compliment. She said you’re one of the best people she’s ever met. And, for what it’s worth, she said she thought you’d be a great father." At that, Tony wanted to start crying. She had thought about him being a father, but she hadn’t really entertained the idea of him actually being a father, had she? Because God forbid Tony DiNozzo is the father of her child. One of the best people she’s ever met, but not good enough to be a dad to his own child. 

Tony just scoffed and walked away. He really couldn’t take it anymore. He was so tired. 

"Motek, he loves you." Nettie needed to talk some sense into Ziva. She’d been biting her tongue since Ziva told her of the pregnancy, but she couldn’t any longer. Tony was miserable, and she couldn’t bear to see it any longer. 

"Doda, I put that part of my life behind me. I cannot go back, not now. What is done is done. I never asked Tony to come, and I definitely do not want him here. He has a life in DC. His friends, his father, the job. He has a whole life, and I did not fit into that anymore, at least not in the way I once did. When he came to find me here months back, we had a relationship. Short-lived, sure, but a relationship, nonetheless. Obviously, the relationship became physical, hence why I am pregnant, but it went deeper than that." Ziva sighed, rubbing over the spot where she could feel little feet. She smiled softly, thinking how miraculous it was that her baby was still with her, safe and sound. "I cannot go back to that. What we had was only meant to be short-lived. What we had was wonderful, but it is over." 

"But it is not, motek. Not for him, and definitely not for your child." Ziva rolled her eyes, not wanting to hear what her aunt had to say. She’d made up her mind, and nothing anyone said or did was going to change that. “Ziva, just think about it. He’s here. He has an entire life halfway across the world, but he’s here for you and that child. He dropped everything to be here, despite what you’ve told me that boss of yours says about time off and leaves. He’s here, Ziva. Just talk to him; hear him out. You owe him that much.” Ziva gave a small, barely noticeable nod, and Nettie took that as answer enough. She quickly excused herself from the room, leaving Ziva to think.

"Ziva, that partner of yours is quite a character." Shmeil knew Ziva’s reluctance to talk about Tony, but he really didn’t care. 

"He is no longer my partner. He is no longer my anything." Ziva really didn’t like talking about him. 

"That baby would beg to differ." Ziva felt her cheeks redden as if she was a schoolgirl being scolded by her father. 

"I am not going to say sorry, if that is what you were expecting. As naive as I feel in my current situation, I am still an adult." 

"You have nothing to be sorry for, and even if you did, I am not the one who deserves your apologies. As you said, you are an adult. A very capable, very strong one at that. I have no doubt that this baby will be well-cared for and loved." Ziva knew Shmeil was holding his tongue, just as her aunt and Adam had, but she didn’t want that. She wanted Shmeil to say whatever it was he wanted to say. 

"But?" 

"But nothing. Your baby is very lucky to have you as their mom." Ziva rolled her eyes. She’d been told that by everyone she’d told about her pregnancy, and she couldn’t help but feel like she wasn’t ready. What if she made a lot of mistakes? What if her baby hated her? What if she wasn’t as amazing of a mom that everyone seemed to think she’d be? "With that being said, that baby would also be lucky to have that partner of yours as their dad." 

"And there it is. There is the ‘but.’" Ziva rolled her eyes again, this time because she was tired of everyone giving their opinion, verbally or nonverbally, about her situation. 

"It’s the truth, Ziva. It’s unavoidable, no matter how hard you try." Shmeil sighed, getting up from his spot in a chair to position himself on the couch next to Ziva. "I have no doubt that you can be an amazing mother. You will be everything your child deserves and more, but your child also deserves a father. Sure, I can fill in the place of a grandfather, as long as I have left. That friend of yours, Adam, can be an uncle, but nobody can fulfill the role of a father like an actual father.”

"I cannot ask him to uproot his life for an unplanned love child. It is not fair to anyone involved." Ziva had written in her latest list of Wills that she would tell him when the time was right, but she felt like that time would never come. Maybe that Will and the subsequent one would never come to fruition. Maybe things just weren’t meant to be.  

"Ziva, I cannot tell you what you should do, but I can tell you that you might regret your decision. If not now, then when the child is born, or at their first birthday, or their first day of school, or at their graduation, or their wedding. You might regret your decision during the milestones you unwillingly forced him to miss out on." With that, Shmeil decided to rest his case. He’d said what he felt Ziva needed to hear, and there was nothing left to be said. She had a decision to make. 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" Tony was sat in a chair across from Ziva. He was a little shocked that she’d allowed him back into the room, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Ziva just shrugged in response, not really wanting to go down the rabbit hole they would inevitably end up going down. 

"No, Ziva. You don’t just get to shrug. I need an actual answer." Tony was trying his best to stay level-headed, despite how hurt and angry he actually felt. 

"I do not know if I was going to tell you. I had not decided yet." Ziva was trying really hard to not engage. She didn’t want to completely unravel in front of him. She felt like she had a very small amount of control over her emotions during her pregnancy, and she didn’t want him to see that. 

"Ok, just humor me. Say you were going to tell me, when would you have done it? The day she was born? Or his first birthday? First day of kindergarten? When you decided to marry someone and give my child a dad? Graduation? On your deathbed? When, Ziva? When did you think you’d finally let someone else in? When did you think you’d decide I deserved to know my own kid? When?" Tony was dangerously close to tears, and his voice was dangerously low, and it made Ziva dangerously close to losing her small amount of control. 

"I know it is no consolation, but my decision, or lack thereof, had nothing to do with you, per se. I was not willing to let you let go of your life. I was not willing to cause any more harm that I already have." Ziva had no idea how she was ever going to make this better, but she figured placing the blame on herself might help. 

"That doesn’t really help, Ziva." Tony took in a deep breath, sucking in the tears that hadn’t yet fallen. This conversation would get far too out of hand if tears were involved. 

"I know."

"When I came to Israel in search of you months ago, I really had no idea what to expect. I didn’t know if I’d actually be able to track you down, or if you’d slip out of my grasp again. I had no idea. When I finally found you, alive and somewhat well, I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest. Do you remember what I did when I saw you for the first time?" Tony could’ve sworn he saw a hint of a smile on Ziva’s lips as she thought back to their reunion at the farmhouse in Be’er Sheva. 

"You kissed me." That kiss had taken them both by surprise. Him because he hadn’t expected himself to be so bold, and her because they’d finally crossed the unspoken boundary that had been set in place for years. 

"Yeah, and at that moment, I fell in love with you all over again. And I continued to fall in love again and again everyday we spent together at that farmhouse. I thought that maybe getting on that plane would make me snap out of it. I thought maybe it was all just a momentary lapse in judgment. I thought that getting on that plane would be the closure we deserved, and we’d both be able to move on with our lives." Tony sighed, rubbing his hands through his hair. "I guess I was wrong." 

"You have a whole life in DC, Tony. A job you love, a father whom you are trying to reconnect with, Gibbs, and Tim, and Abby, and Ducky; a whole, established life. I could not allow myself to be the reason you left everything behind." 

"I would have left it all for you, but in this case, it wouldn’t have been for you, it would’ve been for my child; our child. I don’t have a lot of family. I was an only child, my mother died when I was eight, and no stepmom ever stuck around long enough for me to ever build a relationship with. Up until a few years ago, the only family I had was old memories of distant relatives and the longing for an absent father. You know what it feels like to have no one. You know exactly what it’s like. I would have thought you wouldn’t ever want your child to know the pain we felt; the pain we feel everyday. I would have thought you’d do your child the courtesy of giving them everything you don’t have. Maybe I would have thought wrong." 

"Do not make that accusation, Tony. I want to give my child everything in this life and more." Ziva was slightly upset that he would even suggest such a thing. 

"Everything but me." Tony sighed, standing from the chair and starting to pace in front of the bed. 

The pair sat in silence for a bit, neither knowing what to say. They were both fighting back tears, and didn’t want to say something they’d regret. Maybe the only way to prevent saying something they’d regret was to say nothing at all, and that’s exactly what they did. Eventually, Tony did sit back down in the chair, but neither one of them said anything to each other for several hours. Each of them slipped in and out of sleep and remained completely silent all the same. Maybe things were better left unsaid for a while.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 

"Tony, it’s been a week. Abby and I are starting to get worried, and although he would never say it, I think Gibbs is worried, too. What is going on?" McGee had grown to think of Tony like the brother he never had, and he knew Tony thought of him the same. It wasn’t like Tony to just drop everything and run off to another country, at least not without reason. Of course, Tim knew that reason was Ziva, but he was still very much in the dark about the whole situation. 

"No reason to worry, McSentimental. I’m perfectly fine, as is Ziva. I will explain all you need to know when I come next week." That was the first Tim had heard of Tony’s decision to return. During the two previous phone calls, Tony had made it seem like he wasn’t sure if he was coming back. 

"Are you coming back to work next week?" Tim was trying to flesh out what Tony meant by ‘coming back.’

"No. I’m coming back to DC to get some things from my apartment, check on my fish, and then I’m hopping on a plane back to Tel Aviv." Tony was planning to be in and out within 48 hours. The less time Ziva had by herself, the better. He didn’t want her to get spooked and bolt. 

"And then? Are you staying in Israel for good, or just a few months? What about work? Are you resigning?” 

"McGoo, I’m seeing where the wind takes me. Flying by the seat of my pants. I have no idea what’s gonna happen. Right now, I know that Israel is where I need to be. That’s really all I can say." With that, Tony hung up, leaving McGee with no real answers and probably even more questions than before. 

"Are you going to tell them?" Ziva asked, rather timidly. She’d been released from the hospital two days prior, after the doctors deemed her and the baby to be in pristine condition. She was given strict orders by her doctor to get plenty of rest at home, so Tony had practically forced himself into her life and began waiting on her hand and foot. 

"Not yet. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all of it. I’m not ready for their opinions yet." She knew his words weren’t exactly meant to be a jab at her, but she couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. They still had not continued the conversation they’d started in the hospital. They were simply beating around the bush. 

"Right." Ziva was uncomfortable with whatever it was they were doing, but she wasn’t ready to pop the bubble, no matter how awkward. The minute the bubble was popped, the anger and sadness and pettiness would flood in and potentially ruin everything. 

"I’m leaving on Tuesday morning, and I’m planning to be back by Thursday night. That’s hardly enough time to drop news like this on them. I will tell them, or we will, but not yet. We still have some time, right?" Ziva was only 26 weeks along. They didn’t have nearly enough time to feel as ready as they wanted to, but plenty of time to tell their friends when the time was right. 

"Yes. We can tell them whenever you are ready." Every decision thus far had been made by Ziva. She was trying to show him she wanted him to make some decisions too. She was trying. 

“But I don’t want to leave with things the way they are between us." Tony was tired of the awkwardness. He was tired of it all. They couldn’t spend the entirety of their child’s life filled with resentment and guilt. It would spill out onto their kid, and neither one of them wanted that. 

"Then don’t leave. Stay here." Ziva never thought she’d say it, but she was going to miss Tony, even if he was only leaving for two days. The past week had been awkward, painfully so, but it made her feel a certain way with Tony being there. 

"I have to get things from my apartment and make sure Kate and Ziva are still alive." Tony had only recently got another fish, which he had named Ziva. 

"You named a fish after me?" Ziva was both honored and a little offended. She knew Tony had only named his first fish Kate because the real Kate was dead. Had she been dead to him after he left Israel?

"Yeah. Kate needed a friend." 

"I am not dead, Tony." 

"Maybe not, but I was pretty sure I’d never see you again, so you might as well have died." Tony was sure she was never coming back, and he was sure he could never go back and track her down again. He was sure that chapter of his life had ended. "Guess I was wrong."

"Stop doing that." Ziva was getting tired of him playing the victim. She knew she’d fucked up, but he didn’t have to keep reminding her. 

"Stop doing what? Stop telling the truth? Stop conveying my feelings? Stop what, Ziva?" Ziva had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. He could be so annoying. He knew exactly what buttons to push. 

"Stop playing the victim, Tony. You are a lot of things, but a victim is not one. I know that not telling you about the baby was wrong. I know I should have told you, but I did not. I did not tell you, and I have no idea when or if I was ever going to tell you. That is the truth, and I know it hurts you. I know you feel like I’ve wronged you, but that was never my intention. I love you, Tony. I love you. I love my child; our child. I thought I was doing what was best for everyone by not telling you. I am sorry." Ziva was dangerously close to tears, and she hated it. She didn’t like to cry in front of anyone, let alone him. When he didn’t respond, she was sure she’d scared him away. She was sure he was ready to hop on the plane right then and there and never come back. With that being said, what he did next took her off guard. 

Tony, seemingly too stunned to speak after hearing the slew of words Ziva had just said, did the only thing he could think of to do when he was speechless; he closed the distance between and kissed her. This time, when they pulled apart, it was Ziva who was too stunned to speak. 

“I know I’m not a victim. If anyone’s a victim, it’s you. You’ve been through hell and back, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to tell me, not really. I am hurt, but I get to feel that way. I know you are fiercely independent, and that’s what makes you a survivor, not a victim. I understand that you were just trying to protect yourself. I understand all of that, but I am hurt. I’m hurt that you thought you would get to raise our child on your own. I’m hurt that you weren’t sure if you should give me the opportunity to be a father. I’m hurt, and I’m probably gonna be hurt for a while. But I will get over it. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually. I will take one look at our child, and I’m sure everything else will fade away. I love you, Ziva. God, I’m so in love with you. I can’t wait to raise our child together, in whatever way that looks like. Right now, though, I’m hurt. I am glad that we’re clearing the air, though, because I can’t deal with the tension anymore. I don’t want to feel like we’re walking on eggshells. I want us to try and repair our relationship and hopefully strengthen it for the sake of our child.” Ziva smiled, a genuine smile that made things seem almost better. Tony smiled back and smiled into the second kiss he planted on her lips. 

“Tony!” Abby practically screamed his name as she threw her arms around him in one of her world-famous hugs. “We’ve missed you.” Tony chuckled at Abby’s over-the-top reaction to his homecoming. Abby always acted like any time away from those she held closest was too long. 

“Abby, I haven’t even been gone for two weeks.” Tony was flattered by her reaction, however dramatic it may have been. 

“It’s so un-Tony-like of you to leave like this and for this long. In Tony time, it’s like you’ve been gone for a year. You never miss work.” This was true. Tony held his job in high regard. He rarely missed work, and when he did, he tried to give notice. 

“There were pressing matters in Israel.” He was purposely being vague. He didn’t think it was the right time to let the cat out of the bag. 

“How is Ziva? She stopped answering my calls about a month ago. I’ve called her like 30 times in the past two weeks, and she hasn’t answered any of them.” Despite a rough start between the two, Abby considered Ziva to be one of her best friends. She’d taken it hard when Ziva decided not to return from Israel. 

“Ziva is fine. We’re both fine.” Tony was about to say ‘we’re all fine’, but he quickly had to stop himself. Abby would surely take that and run. 

“There has to be a reason you picked up and left with no notice.” Tony could see Abby wasn’t backing down. He had to change his tactics. 

“How’s McGee? And Gibbs? How’s everything been on the home front?” Sensing Tony’s reluctance to divulge any more information, Abby decided to give in and answer the question Tony had asked. Soon, the questions Abby had were buried under her never-ending tales of the occurrences during Tony’s time away.  

"What do you got, Abbs?" Gibbs asked, walking into the lab and interrupting the rant she’d broken into. 

"Look who’s back!" Abby squealed, gesturing towards Tony. 

"I know, Abby. Who do you think picked him up from the airport?" Gibbs gave her an exasperated answer, even though he was secretly happy that Tony was back. 

"Right." Abby pressed her lips together and turned around to face her desk, pulling up whatever she’d found on the case Gibbs was working. 

"So, what’re you doing here, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, already knowing who it was traipsing down his basement stairs. 

Tony sighed, finally making his way down the stairs and standing still at the bottom. He felt like he was back in boarding school and had been called into the headmaster’s office. He felt like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar, but the cookie jar was actually one of Gibbs’ rules that he’d broken. 

"I’m here to get some stuff from my apartment, check on my fish, and settle business here before I go back to Israel." Tony shrugged, trying to make it seem like his return to DC was just that simple. 

"And what’s waiting for you in Israel?" It was like Gibbs already knew. Tony really hoped he didn’t actually know, but it seemed like Gibbs knew.

"Ziva." Need he say more? Gibbs had to have known there was always something deeper between him and Ziva. That spark had been visible to everyone except Tony and Ziva since their first meeting in the squadroom. 

"I guess Rule 12 went out the window with you two." Gibbs had created that rule to try and prevent his team from making the same mistake he’d made with Jenny. McGee and Abby had already broken the rule, but he was hopeful Tony and Ziva would have enough self control to never pursue the unspoken thing between them. 

"I tried, Boss. I really did. We tried to keep distance between us, but when I found her in Israel months back, I realized we were kidding ourselves. Life is too short." Tony did feel bad. He felt like he was disappointing the man whom he held with the utmost regard. Tony felt bad, but he was done living a lie.

"What changed this time? Why did you just run off to Israel without any notice or heads up?" Tony sighed again, venturing further into the basement and pouring himself half a glass of whatever liquor Gibbs had. He quickly downed the amber liquid and poured himself more. 

"What I’m about to say is probably gonna make you mad, and to be perfectly honest, it made me a little mad too. I know it’s not what you wanted, but it just happened, and neither of us really wanted it, but-"

"Just spit it out, DiNozzo." Gibbs did not like when people rambled. He was a man of few words and didn’t understand why people needed so many words to lead up to more words. 

"Ziva is pregnant.” In a shocking turn of events, instead of a frown plastered on his face, Gibbs’ lips turned up in a near-smile. Was he not mad? 

"I guess the manhunt for Ziva in Israel was more eventful than I thought." Tony had to hold back an eye roll. That ‘manhunt’ for Ziva simply added fuel to the fire. They finally admitted their feelings for each, not in so many words, and created new life, however inadvertently. 

"You’re not mad?" What about Rule 12? 

"What’s done is done, DiNozzo. I did my best to get the two of you to follow the rules, but you two chose to break them. What’s the use in being mad?" If Gibbs was being honest, although he’d never admit it, he was happy for the two. They would make great parents. 

"We really never meant for things to happen this way, I can promise you that." Tony still felt like he had to explain himself. There was just no way Gibbs wasn’t upset. 

"I know you didn’t mean for things to happen." Gibbs sighed, stopping his sanding to pour himself a glass. He downed it before talking again. "Do you want me to say I forgive you? Do you want me to say I’m not mad at you? What are you looking for, DiNozzo?"

"Nothing, I guess, Boss." Tony carefully reached into his pocket and fished out his badge. He hadn’t told Ziva he’d be doing this, but it felt like the right thing to do. 

"Are you sure about this?" Gibbs knew Tony felt like resigning was what was best for his new little family, but he wanted to make sure Tony wasn’t making a mistake. 

"It’s time. I’ve spent far too much time pretending like the only thing I can possibly be good at is this job. It’s time for me to learn how to be good at fatherhood." Tony placed the badge on the table and held out his hand, waiting for Gibbs to shake it. Gibbs returned the sentiment and took the badge into his hand. 

"I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Tony." 

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 

"Why did you turn in your badge? We do not even know what it is we are doing. Why would you give up your career?" Ziva asked over the phone, her distaste of the news of Tony resigning evident. 

"Ziva, calm down. I had been thinking about this for a while, and it was time." Tony knew telling her to ‘calm down’ probably wasn’t the best move, but there were no other words to be said at that moment. 

"Calm down, Tony? Really?” Ziva was seething, but she was trying to keep her anger in check. They’d agreed to work to fix things, and an argument like this probably wasn’t in their best interest. 

“Ok, maybe not my best choice of words, but the message rings true.” Tony took a deep breath, calming himself for the conversation that was sure to come. “I had been thinking about turning in my badge, even before you and our baby came back into my life. I’ve been…frustrated with the job recently. Nothing I do ever seems to feel like enough. It feels like we’re playing whack-a-mole. The second we solve one case, another one pops up. I’m getting older and tired. I can’t do this forever, but I figured this job was the only thing I was destined for.” Tony didn’t want to sound too self-deprecating, but he was throwing himself a bit of a pity party. 

“How do you know that is not what you are destined for? What changed?” Ziva was fairly certain she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from him.

“You. When I found you in Israel, at that farmhouse, I thought, even if only briefly, that we could be each other’s future. Turns out I was right, but it just took us a few more months to realize it.” Tony knew he had made her smile, even though he couldn’t see her. 

“I am still not pleased that you turned in your badge, but I suppose I understand why you did it. I, myself, turned in my badge somewhat on a whim, so I suppose I cannot judge too harshly.” Ziva sighed, rubbing her hand over her bump where she felt little feet. She smiled, thinking about how much her life would change for the better with the arrival of her child. Maybe Tony had a point. “I am sure we will  have plenty to talk about when you get home.” Ziva had said it before she even knew what was coming out of her mouth.

“Home?” Tony couldn’t describe the rush that he’d felt just from that little word that had slipped out of her mouth. 

“You know what I meant, Tony.” Ziva wasn’t entirely sure what she’d meant, so how could he have known?

“Do I? Do I know what you mean, Ziva?” Tony was fairly sure she meant that she thought of him as her family and the place she was in as their home, not her home, but theirs; something they shared and would soon share with their child. “So Israel is where we’re gonna stay?” They hadn’t really talked about where they’d live. Tony assumed Ziva wanted to stay in Israel, but she hadn’t said so.

“I am not sure.” Yes, Ziva wanted to stay in Israel, but she’d already made too many decisions for him. Maybe it’d be best if she stayed quiet about where she wanted them to live. 

“Well, I am. Israel is the place where you were born, and where your parents were born. You have roots there, and I can understand why you see it as home. I’ve never really had roots anywhere, and I always run before I can plant roots. DC and NCIS are the longest I have ever stayed in one place. Now, without NCIS, I’m free. I want to stay in Israel. I want to raise our child in their mother’s birth country.” Israel was where he saw himself living, at least for the foreseeable future. 

“Ok.” Ziva hated that a tear slipped out of her at Tony’s sweet words. She loved him, and he loved her, and neither of them had ever had that before. It was exhilarating and refreshing.

“My plane’s about to board. I’ve gotta go.” Tony was very excited to go back home to her.

“Ok, have a safe flight.” Ziva wanted to say that she loved him, but she wasn’t really sure they were there yet. 

“Count to a million. I’m on my way.” With that, he hung up and picked up his bag, ready to make his way back to her.

When Ziva hung up, she put her phone down and looked around the room she was in. She hadn’t told Tony, but the night after he’d left, she’d had some pain around her incision. The next morning, the pain intensified and the incision was a bright red color. She was pretty sure it was infected, so she went back to the hospital. Just as a precaution, they’d admitted her while she ran through a course of antibiotics. She hadn’t told Tony, a fact that she did somewhat regret. She hadn’t told him because she knew he’d be on the next flight home, and she didn’t want that. She wanted him to finish the business he had to do in DC and close that chapter of his life. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 

"Are we really doing this again, Ziva?" Tony sighed, sitting next to her hospital bed. 

He’d arrived back at the farmhouse after a full day of travel, and he’d expected to find her. He’d expected to find her in the olive orchard behind the house or in the kitchen or asleep in bed. He’d expected her to be there, in the house. When he’d arrived at the house, though, he hadn’t found her. He’d quickly searched for her around the house, and then went back to the orchard to quickly survey the field. No luck. 

She fled . She couldn’t handle it, and she left again. Those were the first thoughts that had run through his head. She’d fled before, and he’d been stupid to think she wouldn’t do it again. 

"Where is she?" Tony practically demanded as he spoke into the phone. He was almost a hundred percent sure that Ziva would tell Adam where she was going. 

"About whom are you speaking?" Adam knew exactly the person Tony was asking for, but he was mildly amused by playing the long game. 

"You know exactly who I’m talking about, Adam."

"Is she not with you? Last I heard, she was at the farmhouse." Adam knew Tony likely believed he was lying, but he truly wasn’t. 

"Don’t fucking play with me, Adam. You know where she is." Tony tried to keep things civil with Adam around Ziva, but she wasn’t there, and he had no reason to keep his composure. 

"I am not lying, Tony. I have no idea where Ziva is.” 

With that, Tony hung up. He threw the phone across the room. She couldn’t have done this again. She was pregnant with his child! Their child! How could she have done this again?

After a bit of self-deprecating doubt, Tony decided to put his investigative skills to work. He would follow her to the ends of the earth. He knew she had to know that. He was able to pull up her phone records and saw that she’d called her doctor the day after he’d left. Why would she do that, and not tell him. If something was wrong, why wouldn’t she tell him? He called her doctor’s office, but, of course, they couldn’t tell him anything. He didn’t really even know why he called, but he figured it was worth a shot. After that lead hit a dead-end, he knew he had to enlist some help to look up hospital records. 

"Hey, Tim. I need a favor." Tony thought about calling Abby, but Abby would ask too many questions. 

"Ok, what can I do for you? And before you say anything, this is totally legal, right?" Favors Tim did for Tony didn’t always fall within the limits of Tim’s legal obligations or moral compass. 

"Well, technically it’s not legal, but it’s really important." Tony was desperate, and he wasn’t really thinking about his legal obligations, especially given that he wasn’t an agent anymore. 

Tim sighed, trying to decide if whatever Tony needed him to do was going to get him into trouble. Tony did seem really desperate, and given his mysterious trip to Israel, his lack of any information on the matter, and now his resignation from NCIS, Tim couldn’t help but be a bit curious. 

"Ok, what do you need?" Tim said exasperatedly, knowing whatever Tony needed was important, no matter how morally or legally wrong. 

"I need you to check hospital records for all hospitals in and around Tel Aviv. I’m looking for Ziva." Tony knew McGee was sure to have questions, but he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to answer them. 

"Ziva? I thought you were with Ziva at the farmhouse?" 

"I was, and I have been since I got here, but she wasn’t here when I got back. I already checked her phone records. She called her doctor the day after I left. I called her doctor’s office, but, of course, I couldn't get anything off of them. I’m pretty sure she’s at one of the hospitals in Tel Aviv, but I don’t know for sure, and I’m really not that good at hacking." Tony would do it himself if he could, but he really wasn’t the best with computers, and he only had access to his personal laptop. 

"Why would Ziva be at the hospital? Do you think she’s injured?" Ziva hated doctors and hospitals, and Tim knew Ziva wouldn’t go to the hospital unless something was really wrong. 

Tony sighed. He knew McGee wasn’t going to stop asking questions. He had to tell him. 

"Ok, what I’m about to tell you stays between us, ok? Actually, this whole thing stays between us. Got it?" 

"Ok…"

"The reason I’m in Israel is because two weeks ago, Adam Eshel called me, saying something was wrong with Ziva. Of course, I got on the first flight out and met him at the airport in Tel Aviv. From the airport, he took me to the hospital. Ziva had apparently gotten injured, but that’s all he could say. When I talked to the doctor, she said Ziva had taken a fall and sustained blunt force trauma to her abdomen. They had to remove her spleen. The last thing the doctor said was that Ziva and the baby were both stable." Tony paused, taking in a deep breath. "Turns out, Ziva’s pregnant. Almost seven months." 

There were several beats of silence over the phone. Neither one of them said anything. Eventually, Tony heard McGee draw in a deep breath and then he finally spoke again. 

"I feel like I don’t even really need to ask, but it’s yours, right?" McGee had had a feeling that the month Tony had spent in Israel ‘looking for’ Ziva had actually been spent with Ziva. 

"Yeah, it is. We’re having a baby." There was no real emotion behind his words, and Tim found that a little strange. Was Tony happy? Was he upset? Both? 

"Ok, so, I found Ziva. She’s at a hospital on the outskirts of Tel Aviv. I’ll send you the address. It says she’s on the obstetrics floor. Room 415." Tim had a lot more questions, and maybe they’d be answered in time, and maybe they wouldn’t. 

"Thanks, Tim. I owe you one." Tony was pretty sure he owed McGee way more than one, but he couldn’t exactly recount all the favors he owed him. 

"Just take care of Ziva and that baby." With that, Tim hung up. 

Tony sighed after putting his phone down. He was grateful to Tim for helping him find Ziva, but now he had to confront, yet again. He’d really thought they’d made progress before he’d left. What the hell had happened? Why didn’t Ziva trust him, after everything they’d gone through. 

Unfortunately, Tony didn’t have an unlimited amount of time to endlessly question everything. He had to go find Ziva, and as mad as he was, he had to make sure she and the baby were ok. 

"I am sorry I did not tell you. I wanted you to focus on what you had to do in DC, and then you could come back and we could focus on us." Ziva did feel bad, especially when she saw the disappointment etched on his face. 

"Who said that was ok to do, Ziva? Did I tell you that I didn’t want to be kept in the loop?" Tony was really trying to keep his anger at bay, but it was hard, given that he’d just had a similar conversation two weeks ago. 

"Nobody gave me permission, Tony, although it is nice of you to do so retroactively." The sarcasm seeped from Ziva’s tone, clearly upset with Tony’s choice of words. 

"Ziva." Tony rolled his eyes, tired of the games Ziva loved to play. 

"What would you like me to say, Tony? I already said I am sorry." When Ziva had gone to the hospital, she had really hoped they wouldn’t admit her. She was hoping they’d just prescribe her some antibiotics and that’d be that. Unfortunately, because of an abundance of caution, the on-call OB decided to admit her and start a course of IV antibiotics. As well, they’d put her on a contraction monitor and had seen a few small ones, so they also put her on steroids to mature the baby’s lungs in case they had to deliver. 

"What I would like, Ziva, is for you to understand that I am here. God, I am here, Ziva. For you, for our baby, and for myself. I love you, as hard as you make it. I just want you to trust me, and I know it’s hard. I get it." Tony sighed. He rubbed his hands down his face, exhausted from everything that had happened over the past two weeks. 

"I do trust you, Tony, more than I have ever trusted anyone." That was the truth. 

"But?" She trusted him, yes, but she clearly didn’t because she still insisted on doing everything by herself, lone wolf style. 

"But I have been on my own for the past six months, and I was on my own a lot before NCIS. I cannot just make the urge to be independent disappear, despite how much you or I might want it to." Ziva rubbed her stomach, feeling a small tightening on the top, as well as tiny feet poking her side. 

"You can start by simply talking to me. Tell me when things happen, especially when it involves the health of you and our child. For example, you can tell me about what the fuck happened between when I left and when I got back. Why are you in a hospital?"  Tony obviously knew something was wrong. Something obviously had to be wrong for Ziva to be in a hospital. 

"My incision became infected. I came here, thinking they would prescribe me antibiotics and I could go home, but they admitted me. They started me on IV antibiotics. The OB ordered a contraction monitor, which I came to understand is fairly routine for patients who are past the date of viability. I’m almost 28 weeks, so I’m well past the point of viability. They did see some small contractions-" Ziva was going to continue, but Tony interrupted. 

"Contractions? It’s too soon, right? I mean, we have nothing, and a baby born at 27 weeks isn’t normal, right? They would be on monitors and machines for a while if they were born at 27 weeks." Tony was spiraling, and as endearing as Ziva found it, she really couldn’t let him continue. 

"The contractions are small, and I can barely even notice them. The doctor said it is normal during an infection in the second or third trimester. They started me on steroids to mature the baby’s lungs, just in case I have to deliver. With that being said, the doctor is pretty confident that I will not be delivering today. The doctor said that once the antibiotics start working, the contractions should stop." Ziva was nervous, of course, but was cautiously optimistic that the baby would stay in for a while longer. 

"This is what I mean, though, Ziva. I need to be told these kinds of things. I understand that you are perfectly capable of being a single mom and raising a child on your own, but I thought we were in agreement that that’s not gonna happen. This is my baby, too, and I have a right to know when something is wrong with my baby — our baby." Tony didn’t want to sound too possessive or overbearing, especially because he knew she spooked easily, but this was their child, meaning they shared an equal amount of rights over the child. 

Ziva simply nodded, and they came to a silent agreement that this kind of situation wouldn’t happen again. Ziva was trying to overcome her innate need to be independent, and Tony was trying to allow himself to take a step back and allow her to be independent. They were both learning how to do new things, and it was a seemingly harder feat than they’d thought it would be.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 

"Tell me something you’ve never told anyone." Tony and Ziva had really been working hard at the whole ‘you trust me, I trust you’ part of their new relationship. Ziva had been out of the hospital for a week, and one day, while they were lying on the couch together, Tony decided to try a new trust-building exercise. 

"What would you like to know?" Ziva completely understood his request, but she was stalling a bit. Trust was hard, even if Tony was the person she trusted the most. 

"Anything. Just tell me something you’ve never told anyone." Tony was fully prepared for all of the stalling she would do, as well as the counter she would likely give. 

Ziva took in a deep breath, rubbing her hand over the little feet she felt. She couldn’t believe she was almost 29 weeks pregnant. How did the time go by so fast? As she started to give a thoughtful reflection to his request, she caught his eyes on her hand. He had a longing in his eyes, unlike she’d ever seen. At that moment, she’d realized he’d had yet to feel their baby kick. She’d been feeling consistent kicks since 16 weeks, but had never offered to let him feel them. Silently, she took his hand and placed it over the spot where she’d felt the kicks. His eyes lit up with an incredible amount of adoration as he felt the light pokes of his child’s feet against his hands. Ziva was pretty sure she’d fallen in love with him all over again, in that very instant.

"When I was about 15, I was going to perform in a dance recital at school. As you know, I wanted to be a ballerina, and that dream followed me all the way up until this performance. My father was off in some other country, my brother had already left the house many years prior, and it was just my sister and mother that attended my performance. I was about five minutes out from going on stage, and my mother got a call that my father had been seriously injured. Of course, at that point, the recital didn’t matter anymore; I simply wanted to know if my father was alright. My mother quickly rushed the three of us to the hospital my father was airlifted to in Tel Aviv.  We got to the emergency department, found the curtained-off area my father was in, and were shocked by what we saw. Clutching my father’s hand, sitting at his bedside, was none other than Orli Elbaz. My father was alive and relatively well. The only injuries he’d sustained were a few minor rib contusions and some superficial abrasions and lacerations. I came to learn later that the ‘work trip’ had actually been a romantic getawayh with Orli. My father had tripped over a glass table while they were in their hotel room." Ziva paused, already frustrated with the fact she’d chosen this story to tell him, but she continued. "I had been going on and on about my recital for weeks. My father had promised that he would attend. Two days before, he looked me right in my eyes and told me a work trip had come up and he would no longer be able to attend. He broke a promise he had made to me by lying to me. That day, I lost all interest I had in dancing, because I realized that the only way I was going to get my father’s attention was by fighting for it. My father had never wanted me to be a dancer, and he had repeatedly told me that. To this day, I still wonder if he would have gone off on his little tryst if my dance recital had been a marksmanship competition or wrestling match." Ziva hated the hot tears that fell down her cheeks. She angrily wiped them away and swatted at Tony’s hand that inched closer to her face. 

"It’s not your fault your father disappointed you, Ziva. Your father made his choices, however wrong they were. He chose to hurt you and your mother and sister and brother, because he couldn’t be the man you all deserved. It’s not your fault, Ziva." Ziva so desperately wished that she could believe him, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t at the point yet where she was ready to move past her demons; maybe she’d never be ready.

"You would never do that to our daughter, right?" Ziva’s voice was smaller than he’d ever heard it, and it broke his heart. Tony was heartbroken over the fact that Ziva had been fucked over so badly by her father that she felt the need to confirm Tony would never do that to their daughter.  

“I can’t promise that I will never make mistakes, because I know that I will. What I can promise is that I will never hurt our child the way your father hurt you." Tony caressed her cheek and stared directly into her eyes, gently wiping away some more tears as they fell. 

"Are you sure about this? I mean, I’m here to support you in whatever way you need, but this?" Tony was whispering as they stood in a room full of about ten other pregnant women and various partners. Ziva was 32 weeks and insisted that they start attending a birthing class. Tony was ok with the idea, mainly because he’d thought she’d be attending by herself. Unfortunately, he’d been wrong. His past self probably would’ve loved being in a room with about a dozen gorgeous women, but he’d changed. Being with Ziva had taught him to only have eyes for her. Plus, it was very overwhelming. He was still new to the whole parenthood thing, and their child wasn’t even born yet, so he hadn’t really had time to adjust. 

"Yes, this, Tony. My doctor informed me that a birthing class can be very beneficial. It is not like I have ever done this before, so I have much to learn. The same goes for you.” Ziva knew that Tony was apprehensive, as was she, but they were both new to parenthood, and it was important to her that they started their child’s life off on a high note. 

"Is this in English?" Tony was staring at an introductory slideshow projected on a screen that read something in Hebrew. Unfortunately, mostly for lack of trying, Tony only understood a few words of Hebrew, and definitely could not read or write it. 

"It is not, but I will translate." Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was still an adjustment being in a new country with a relatively unfamiliar language. Of course, he knew better than to expect things to be catered to him, but it was hard to not be able to understand the language. 

A couple stragglers trickled in over the next few minutes, and the class started promptly. All of the expectant mothers started out on the floor in a criss-cross position, with their partners behind them. For Ziva, getting into the criss-cross position was easy, even halfway through her third trimester. For Tony, sitting criss-cross was not nearly as effortless, especially given that he was roughly ten years her senior. He was eventually able to get into a criss-cross position behind her, and rather impatiently waited for Ziva to translate the instructions. 

"Put your hands around my hips and gently massage my lower back with your thumbs." The instructor had explained exactly what this position would help with during labor, but she figured Tony didn’t really care, so she gave him the Cliff Notes. 

Tony did as she instructed, but he wasn’t exactly doing it gently. Generally, Ziva didn’t mind a little bit of roughness, but her back was especially sore, and Tony’s fingers were digging far too deep for her liking. She tensed, and despite his nerves, he noticed almost immediately and stopped. 

"What’s wrong?" Ziva found it endearing that he cared so much. 

"That is not gentle, mon petit pois." Tony mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and tried again, this time remaining more aware of how far his thumbs went into her back. Tony quickly glanced around to the other couples, and could see that all the other support people were whispering into their partner’s ear.

"What am I supposed to be whispering?" Tony wanted to do exactly as the teacher had instructed, but he couldn’t if Ziva didn’t translate word-for-word. 

"Words of affirmation. ‘You are doing a great job.’ ‘It is almost over.’ You are beautiful’, and so on. But you do not have to, if you are uncomfortable." Ziva didn’t really know if they were there yet. They both knew they loved each other, but progressing in a romantic relationship had taken a back seat to their preparations for the baby. 

"Tomorrow night. Me and you. Dinner." Tony whispered it into her ear, and she was most definitely not expecting him to say that. That sounded like, at least to her, a date. They had never been on a date, not really. Undercover didn’t count, and the meal he’d made for her at the farmhouse really didn’t constitute as a date. A date is something you plan, put intention into, maybe even get dressed up for. At 32 weeks pregnant, she wasn’t really sure how up for a date she was. 

"Maybe." She whispered back, not wanting to give him a definite answer in the middle of a birthing class. It was neither the time, nor the place. 

The class dragged on, lasting nearly two hours. Of course, Tony did everything Ziva translated to the best of his ability, although the position that involved Ziva on her hands and knees definitely made him think a few dirty thoughts. Ziva knew he was trying his best to stay attentive, but she could also see that his mind was somewhere else. 

"How about I make pasta tonight?" Tony was still zoning out in the car, barely paying attention to anything other than driving. She appreciated that he was keeping his eyes on the road, but she knew something was on his mind. 

"Yeah, that sounds great." His voice sounded very distant, which was very uncharacteristic of him. 

"I was thinking about naming the baby Nebuchadnezzar, if they are a boy." Ziva knew he wasn’t listening to her, so she figured she’d mess with him for her own enjoyment. 

"Yeah, whatever you want is good." Tony really wasn’t listening, and he knew that she knew that. 

"You are not listening to me, Tony." Shockingly, Ziva hated being ignored. She wasn’t really an attention hog, and she did prefer to stay in the background, but she did not like to be ignored. 

"I’m driving, Ziva." Tony sounded exasperated, so Ziva just decided to stop poking the bear. 

They continued the drive home, very quietly. Normally, the silence wouldn’t bother her, but it made her worry about him. He wasn’t known for being a quiet person, and silence was a rarity for him. She was pretty sure he was thinking about her answer to his proposition. She really hadn’t meant anything by her answer. It simply wasn’t the place or time to be asking that kind of question, and Ziva wasn’t in the right headspace to give the question any real thought. 

Unfortunately, neither Tony, nor Ziva, had any time to think about anything else before tragedy struck. 

"Tony!" Ziva gasped, seeing a black SUV heading at far too high of a speed towards the driver’s side of their car. One minute, the awkward silence was the worst thing during the car ride, and the next their car was being thrown into the middle of a busy intersection and crushed by multiple cars. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

"Are you sure you’re ok, Ziva?" Tony really was worried about her after the car accident. They’d had such an…interesting time in Berlin, and things were finally starting to maybe fall into place. Unfortunately, a car literally plowed into them and ruined all their plans. 

"Please stop asking me that." Ziva sighed. She knew he meant well, and before — before everything, when things were normal — she would’ve found it endearing, sweet, but now she just found it annoying. "I will be fine when we catch these people." Ziva briefly looked into his eyes, and could see the hurt. She could see his pain, physical and emotional. "How are you?" 

"I have to say that I feel the same way. I’ll feel a hell of a lot better when we catch them." Tony sighed, leaning his head against the pillow. He hated the throbbing in his head and face, and he hated that the pain meds had not helped at all. Getting your car slammed into fucking sucked. "Look. About what happened before the crash-" Tony started, but was quickly cut off by Ziva. 

"It was a momentary lapse in judgment; nothing more, nothing less." Ziva nodded, adding an air of finality. 

"Berlin was…unforgettable, for sure.” Tony really had no words to describe the shift in their relationship caused by Berlin. 

"Berlin happened, or really did not happen. It is over, Tony. We are no longer in Berlin. We are back in DC, back to work; back to reality." 

Unfortunately, their current reality was far worse than it had been in that hospital the year before. Tony was badly injured, and although Ziva couldn’t feel any major injuries, she definitely didn’t get off scot-free. 

"Miss, are you ok?" Ziva was only vaguely aware of the voice of a random bystander. Of course, the voice asked her in Hebrew, and Ziva really had to focus to understand what she was being asked. 

"Tony! Oh god, Tony!" Ziva tried to move, but instantly stopped when her body protested. A car crash at 32 weeks pregnant was definitely less than ideal. 

"He is ok, Miss. My friend is checking on him. Are you ok?" Ziva really didn’t care about herself, even though she knew she should. While her unborn child was her first priority, and had been since she learned of them, Tony was at the forefront of her mind. The car had rammed into the driver’s side; his side. 

"I need to know he is ok. I am fine, please do not worry about me. I need to make sure that he is ok." Where the hell were the first responders? Why were strangers making themselves responsible for checking on car crash victims? 

"Ziva." Tony’s voice croaked out her name through the chaos. His head was killing him, he felt like he had an elephant sitting on his chest, and he was pretty sure both his left arm and leg were broken. Still, as soon as he came to, the first thing on his mind was her. 

"Ziva. Ziva, wait!" Ziva stormed off, clearly frustrated that Tony had found her. She had not asked him to, she and not wanted him to, yet here he was.

"What, Tony?” Ziva asked, exasperated, turning around so he could see the fire in her eyes. "What more could you possibly want?" 

"A billion dollars would be nice." There was that characteristic humor. He turned nearly every serious moment into a joke in some way. Normally, Ziva secretly loved it, but now she found it exhausting. 

"Tony." Frustration crept into her tone. She would not sit here and listen to him if he was not going to take their situation seriously. 

"I want you, Ziva. I want you." He stared into her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, and Ziva felt like he was staring into her soul. 

"And I want you to leave." Ziva had built up her walls, and even his most charming tactics would be no match. 

That comment made Tony irrationally angry. He wanted to take her by the arms and shake her until she snapped out of it. What the hell had happened to the Ziva he’d fallen in love with? What had happened to the Ziva that had invited him to Tel Aviv back in May? Why was the Ziva in October so different?  

"Ziva, I spent three and a half fucking months trying to catch you! It was the worst game of cat-and-mouse I’ve ever played." Tony was trying to keep his voice low, but his emotions were getting the best of him. "I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me that you don’t want me here, Ziva."

"I did not ask you to come, and you should not have. I am not who I was before, and I am sorry to disappoint you with that fact, but it is the truth." Ziva knew, deep down, that Tony could never not be in love with her. He was hooked, and she knew it. She, too, was in love, but she had to keep her distance for his own good. 

"The only thing that’s disappointed me is the lack of communication. Why are there so many secrets with you, Ziva, even after all these years?" Mossad was a lifetime ago, so why did she still act like they owned her? 

"The secrets are for everyone’s benefit, Tony." Once he knew, he could never go back. 

"What about you, Ziva? Doesn’t it get exhausting constantly being pulled down by the weight of your past? When are you going to allow yourself to be free?" When would she let it all go and move on? 

"That is my life, Tony. It is the life I have always known." Sure, there were times when she longed to not have to live life in the shadows, but maybe that day would never come, and that was something she had to accept. 

"But it doesn’t have to be. You could — we could — be free." 

So much for being free, Ziva thought as she was strapped onto the stretcher and transported into the ambulance. Tony had been transported in the first ambulance on scene, his injuries much more serious than hers. From what she could tell, her injuries were minor. Maybe some minor whiplash, a possible contusion from hitting her head on the doorframe, and minor scrapes and bruises. Her biggest concern, though, other than Tony’s wellbeing, was her baby. She hadn’t felt the baby move since before the accident, and that terrified her. 

Ziva was quickly transported to the closest hospital, the same one she’d been at just mere weeks before when she’d had the infection. During the ambulance ride, she was poked and prodded, much of which she didn’t mind. The first responders attached various leads to her chest, a blood pressure cuff around her arm, and an IV in the opposite arm, cleaned some minor cuts, likely caused by stray glass, and assessed her overall status. 

"Do you know if my baby is ok?" Ziva shocked herself a bit when her question came out in English, but she chalked it up to not thinking straight. Besides, for the majority of the past decade of her life, she had spoken English. She had definitely gotten used to the language. 

"We do not have equipment to monitor your baby. The doctors at the hospital will be able to check on your baby." The female responder answered her, in English, and gave a reassuring smile. Unfortunately, the smile and sweet tone did nothing to appease Ziva. "Good news, though, you seem to be in stable condition. Your heart rate and blood pressure are both slightly elevated, but not alarmingly so. You will most likely need an MRI at the hospital, and probably a couple localized X-rays, just to rule out any serious injuries. From what I can tell, you are extremely lucky." Ziva knew the responder meant well, but ‘lucky’ wasn’t exactly a word Ziva would use to describe her current situation. 

Fortunately, the drive to the hospital was short and relatively rid of complications, and it wasn’t long before Ziva was taken out of the ambulance and transferred into a trauma bay in the ER. 

"Please check on my baby." This time, Ziva’s request came in Hebrew, wanting to have the greatest chance of being listened to. 

"Yes, miss, we are hooking on a monitor to check fetal heart rate. Just stay still, please." The doctor responded, watching as the nurses and techs worked around her. 

Ziva waited with bated breath as all of the staff worked around her. She felt like time stopped until she finally heard the glorious whooshing sound spill out of the monitor. It was strong and steady, and Ziva felt tears slip down her cheeks, feeling immense relief at hearing her baby’s heartbeat. 

"150. Strong and steady." The nurse gave, smiling comfortingly at Ziva. 

"Your baby is alive, and judging by their strong heart rate, they are unharmed. If you’d like, we can do an ultrasound, just to make sure.” The doctor gave, attempting to ease Ziva’s fears even more. Ziva nodded, wordlessly agreeing to an ultrasound.

As the ultrasound commenced, Ziva started to zone out. She was relieved that her baby was ok, but her mind drifted back to Tony. Surely, he’d been taken to the same hospital, and she was eager to find out his status. 

"Do you know the gender?" The doctor asked, pulling Ziva out of her thoughts. 

"No, we have not found out yet. Please do not tell me." Ziva did want to know, of course, but there was an old tradition keeping her from finding out. While she wasn’t a devout Jew, she did still see value in some of the customs. The Midrash stated seven things that are to be concealed to a person, one of which being the sex of an unborn child.

"Of course, miss. My lips are sealed." Ziva nodded, her mind drifting again. 

This time, as her mind drifted, she thought of all the things she and Tony had yet to buy for the baby. She’d bought a few outfits and miscellaneous baby items, a pack of newborn diapers and a couple packs of wipes, and a car seat. The nursery was still only partially finished, a crib being the only piece of furniture in the nursery. As well, Ziva was nervous about buying too much and having too many traces of the baby. Ziva wanted nothing more than to protect her child, and she still wasn’t convinced that all of her demons had been defeated. What if her past came back to haunt her? What if someone found out about her living in the farmhouse and decided to come after her and the baby? It was all very overwhelming and definitely not conducive to preparing for a baby. This was definitely something that she and Tony needed to discuss. If he is ok, that is. He needs to be ok. 

"The man that was brought in right before me. Tony DiNozzo. He is my baby’s father. Is he alright?" Ziva wanted to see him for herself, even if it turned out he was ok, but she figured that wasn’t an option. 

"I am not sure, but I can ask around." The nurse seemed genuine, and Ziva appreciated it. "In the meantime, the doctor ordered an MRI to check out the nasty bump on your head. As well, the obstetrician has ordered a nonstress test to make sure the baby is ok." Ziva had to resist the urge to sigh. Of course, she knew that the baby was of utmost importance, and she knew that making sure she was ok was just as important, but her mind was really only focused on Tony. She just wanted to know if he was ok. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

"We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this." Tony croaked out, meeting Ziva’s eyes immediately as he opened his. She gave him a watery laugh in return, desperately trying to wipe the tears. 

"I know." Ziva had no words, and she was frantically trying to stop the immense flow of tears. She’d blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but she wasn’t even sure if they had any part in the onslaught of emotions she’d felt just by seeing his eyes. 

"Are you ok? And the baby?" Tony went to sit up in the bed, but was forced back down by the protest from his body. He hadn’t even checked for what injuries he had because the only two things on his mind were Ziva and the baby. 

"We are ok. I just have a few minor cuts and scrapes, and a small contusion on my head,” Ziva paused to point up to the small bump at her hairline, "and the doctor is pretty sure I sprained my wrist, but I am ok. The baby is perfectly healthy, and the OB had no concerns." The relief that rushed through Tony’s body was palpable. With how bad the crash was, he was sure the news he received about their conditions would’ve been so much worse. 

Tony carefully reached his hands up to her face and wiped away some of the tears. He hated seeing her cry. 

“What about me? Have you talked to the doctor yet?" Tony worried about Ziva and the baby, and they were his top priorities, but he figured he should also know what his condition was. 

“No, the doctor has not come in yet. A nurse has come in a few times to check your vitals, but no doctor yet.” Tony nodded, taking in a slightly painful deep breath and trying to make himself more comfortable. 

Ziva jumped up to try and aid in making him more comfortable, but her body immediately protested. As soon as she stood up, she became slightly lightheaded and sat right back down. 

“Are you ok?" Tony looked at her, concern etched all over his face. 

Ziva took a deep breath, trying to make the feeling go away. 

"Uh, yes, I am ok. I got a little lightheaded, but the doctor said it was normal after a head injury." Tony wasn’t convinced and still looked at her with uncertainty. "Tony, I promise I am ok.” Ziva laid her hand on his, trying to reassure him. 

Tony was about to talk again, but was stopped by a knock on the door. Tony gave a short “come in” and in walked the doctor. 

“Good to see you awake, Mr. DiNozzo." The doctor gave a small smile, briefly making eye contact with both Ziva and Tony before scanning the medical chart. 

"So, doc, how bad is it?" As Tony slipped further out of sleep and became more awake and alert, he had started to mentally take stock of his injuries. His left leg felt heavy, and his chest felt like it had been sat on. His head was swimming, and he was pretty sure he had at least a minor concussion. 

“Well, upon your arrival, you were having sporadic spurts of abnormally low blood pressure. We performed an abdominal ultrasound, and we found that you had free fluid in your upper right abdomen. We rushed you into emergency exploratory surgery, and we found a bleed from your spleen. Fortunately, we were able to control the bleed and salvage your spleen. During your surgery, the orthopedist also reset your fractured tibia. A post op x-ray revealed a complete fracture in your tibia, which we reset, and a hairline fracture in your calcaneus, the primary bone in your heel. The x-ray also showed an incomplete fracture of your left radius. The orthopedist will come in and discuss the fractures more in depth. Besides several minor abrasions and contusions on various places on your body, and some bruised ribs, the only other notable injury is a rather large contusion and noticeable deformity over your left temple. The neurologist will come in to assess your neurological function to determine if you have a concussion." After what seemed like a never-ending spiel, the doctor finally finished and left an air of enormity. Sure, some would say Tony was lucky his injuries weren’t worse, but he definitely did not walk off scot-free. He had many weeks of recovery ahead of him. 

"We’re gonna have a baby in about eight weeks, doc. Be honest, what are the chances I'll be completely healed by then?” Tony couldn’t imagine it would be easy to hold a newborn with a cast going all the way up his forearm. 

"I’m not an orthopedist, by any means, so I cannot say for sure. Generally, if healing progresses in a timely manner, casts are worn for about six weeks. After those six weeks, physical therapy is required to regain full mobility and strength. For your tibial fracture, six weeks is typical, as well, but your orthopedist might switch you from a plaster cast to an air cast that can be removed for bathing. Depending on your healing, your orthopedist may require you to be non-weight-bearing, and due to your radial fracture, it is possible you’ll be recommended to use a scooter. Circling back to my speciality, your surgical injuries should heal in between four to six weeks. Ultimately, on just healing alone, you are looking at nearly two months. You will need much longer for physical therapy after those two months." Tony sighed, hating the answer the doctor had given him. He looked over at Ziva and gave her his best ‘I’m so sorry’ face. 

The doctor moved quickly to a physical exam, answered a few more questions, and then as quickly as he came, he was gone again. The nurse stayed to redress his wounds and re-up some meds, but she too left very quickly, leaving Tony and Ziva alone again. 

"Well, I guess I’ll be a one-armed and one-legged dad for the beginning of our child’s life." Tony gave Ziva a weak smile, but she didn’t return it. Truthfully, Ziva was unable to find any humor in their situation. Ziva knew that becoming a mother would be hard, but this was an unforeseen hardship. She’d finally begun to feel comfortable with the idea that she was wouldn’t be raising their baby alone, but now she had to worry about Tony’s recovery, preparing for a newborn, trying to take care of herself, and before too long, labor and delivery of the baby would have to be thrown into the mix of her worries as well. 

"This is not funny, Tony." Ziva loved him, but his seeming lack of care for the gravity of their situation peeved her. 

"I know, Ziva.” Tony sighed, running his good hand down his face, wincing when his hand brushed the bump on his temple. "God, I know it’s really not funny at all. I promise that I will do everything I can to make these next few months about you and our baby, because giving birth is way more important than a couple of broken bones." Sure, Tony understood that his injuries were serious and required a great level of care, but childbirth and bringing a newborn into the world required way more care in Tony’s eyes. 

"Tony, please do not do that." Ziva didn’t want him to minimize his situation for her sake. 

"Do what, Ziva?" Tony had an idea of what the source of Ziva’s annoyance was, but he wanted to hear her say it. 

"Do not minimize your injuries or act like you did not just get into a very serious car crash and sustain very serious injuries. Yes, I am two months away from giving birth, and yes, we are about to become parents, but you can also devote time to your recovery. Both things can exist simultaneously." Tony simply nodded in response, refusing to waste anymore energy on a conversation that was certain to go in circles. 

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, similar to the way things had been in the car before the crash. They both had things they wanted to say, sure, but didn’t know how to say them. They’d known each other for the better part of a decade, had shared intimate moments, were literally having a child together, and yet they still couldn’t manage to talk to each other. 

"We need to start buying more things for the baby." Ziva figured she should start the conversation on neutral ground. Talking about the baby ensured neither one of them had the upper hand. "I mean, I did start preparing the nursery, but it is unfinished. The only piece of furniture is a crib. We still need a dresser, a bassinet, a rocking chair, and plenty of other things. We are not anywhere near ready." She knew her mother had never purchased a real crib for either her or Tali, preferring to have them sleep in the bed with her. Ziva, though, knew that sharing a bed with a child was not recommended by pediatricians in the US, and she doubted Tony would be comfortable with the idea anyway. 

"If we were in DC, I’m sure Gibbs would jump at the opportunity to build hand-crafted furniture for our baby." Tony smiled, thinking fondly of their little family in DC. “I can see him now, Grandpa Gibbs replacing the boat with a hand-crafted dresser and a rocking horse." 

"We can tell them whenever you are ready, Tony." Ziva could tell Tony missed their family in DC; she did, too. She’d left the ball in his court, so it was up to him to tell their family about the baby. 

"I know I didn’t tell you, but I told Gibbs." Ziva looked at him in surprise. She figured he’d tell her if he told anyone else. "When I turned in my badge, it just kinda slipped out.  I’ve also told McGee, because he was the one to help me find you in the hospital the second time." 

"Who have you not told?" Ziva was not upset, by any means, but she wished he’d at least told her.

"Abby is absolutely going to freak out when she finds out, that is, if McGoo hasn’t already let it slip. Ducky will probably impart some long-winded, though useful wisdom. Jimmy will probably say something awkward and Jimmy-like. Vance, if he were to ever find out, would probably give that little smirk that he always gives when he’s slightly amused by something." Ziva smiled slightly, thinking about how accurate Tony’s descriptions of their friends were. 

"And your father?" Ziva had seen first-hand the tumultuous relationship between father and son. They were at least on speaking terms, as far as she was aware, but she didn’t know how he felt about telling his father about the baby. 

"Senior will probably brag about how he predicted it from the first time he met you, and he will never let us hear the end of it. No, I am going to wait until the last possible second to tell him." Ziva understood why Tony felt the way she did, and she was sure she’d feel the same way if her father was still alive, but she couldn’t help but also feel a bit conflicted. Senior was the only biological grandparent their child would have. No matter the relationship between Tony and his father, didn’t he deserve to know? 

"And when will that be?" 

"After they’re born." Tony seemed so adamant about it, and Ziva couldn’t argue with him. 

"So what are we going to do about the things for the baby? We really do need to start buying more things. Obviously, it will have to wait until you are out of the hospital, but we could at least start talking about it now." Ziva was still apprehensive about filling the house with so many traces of their baby, but she knew the baby was waiting for no one. Wouldn’t it be best if they were prepared? 

"I don’t exactly know what all a baby needs, Ziva. I’ve never done this before." Tony could feel himself growing increasingly more drowsy as he felt the effects of the pain meds. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stay awake for this conversation. 

"Neither have I." Ziva sighed, looking down as felt little feet near her ribs. She gently rubbed over the spot, attempting to both soothe the baby and herself. If she was perfectly honest, this day needed to end already. She was exhausted, and she knew a healthy amount of sleep would make her feel better. 

"I can’t…mmm…I don’t think I can." Tony slurred his words, his eyelids getting heavy. She looked up, waiting for him to say something else, but she was met with his sleeping form, and she couldn’t help but smile. He looked so peaceful, and she suddenly didn’t care as much about finishing the conversation. There’d be plenty of time later. 

"Sweet dreams, my little hairy butt." 

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

“Ziva, I’m fine. I know you mean well, but I need to be able to do things on my own."  Tony knew she meant well, but after nearly three straight of her waiting on him hand and foot, he was getting annoyed. Now he knew how she must’ve felt after she was discharged from the hospital the first time. 

"Tony, you only have one functioning arm and leg, and you cannot put any weight on your injured leg. How does the doctor expect you to do things by yourself?” Ziva was not going to let him do everything by himself, partially because she hated watching him struggle, and partially because she wanted to make him feel the way she’d felt when he forced himself back into her life. A taste of his own medicine, she supposed. Not to punish him, because she loved him, but to at least prove that she could be as annoying as him if she wanted. 

"Yeah, but that still doesn’t mean you can treat me like I’m five. You do not need to cut my food into tiny pieces, fluff my pillow, lay out my clothes, and as much as I appreciate it, I can shower on my own." Tony loved her, but she was his lover, the mother of his child, his best friend, not his mother. She was definitely not his mother. 

"It is good practice, no? For when the baby comes?" Ziva had to resist the urge to smirk at that comment. She could practically feel the frustration oozing out of him. 

"Sweet cheeks, for your sake, I hope our baby is a very small fraction of my size. For my sake, I hope they’re a lot cuter, and for both of our sakes, I hope they’re way less demanding. No, being my nurse is not practice for being a mom." Tony really did want to do things by himself. He needed to be able to do things for himself, especially as Ziva progressed and things got harder for her to do. He was supposed to be the one waiting on her hand and foot, not the other way around. 

"Tony, I am just trying to help you. Taking twenty minutes to put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt is pitiful." Tony sighed, having a hard time trying to argue with her. It was far more frustrating to take twenty minutes to get dressed than it was for her to help him. However, he did feel a bit overwhelmed. He hoped he wasn’t getting a glimpse of her future as an overbearing mama bear. 

"I appreciate it.” He looked at her in the eyes, taking her hand into his good one across the table. "I really do, and I think it’s sweet that you care, but I’m a little overwhelmed. How about we both make a deal?" Ziva raised her eyebrows, prompting him to continue. "Let’s abide by Rule 28. When either of us need help, we will ask for it. If we don’t ask, even if it looks like we’re struggling, we will leave each other alone. This goes for both of us, because I know how much we both hate being on the receiving end of overbearing." Ziva nodded, agreeing to Tony’s proposed deal. This might come back to bite them in the ass, but they’d cross that bridge when and if it came. 

Unfortunately, it had, indeed, come back to bite them in the ass. Tony’s stubbornness had led to several falls in the shower, Ziva’s insistence on him staying true his deal, and a couple nights of him sleeping in the spare bedroom. Luckily for both of them, after four long, tumultuous weeks, Tony’s orthopedist switched him from a plaster cast to an air cast on his leg, meaning he could finally be weight-bearing again. Right after Tony’s doctor’s appointment, Ziva insisted they go to a boutique in Tel Aviv that sold baby supplies, and Tony didn’t have the heart to say no.

"Do you have any idea what we’re looking for?" Tony felt extremely out of his comfort zone in the store. There were only a few other people in the store, but they were all women. Tony knew that there was a different culture surrounding parenthood in Israel, but this was the first time he felt weird about doing things with Ziva for their child.

"We need to find a dresser, Tony. And a bassinet." And several other things, of course. Along with a dresser, Zive really hoping to find a bassinet. She’d read that a bedside bassinet was the best way to handle late night feedings and changes during the first few months of the baby's life. 

"Ok, but there’s a million options, Zee-vah." Tony hadn’t over-enunciated her name in a very long time, and for a split second, Ziva felt like she was back at NCIS, during her inaugural year with the team. 

"I specifically brought us here because it is small, meaning the selection is limited. There cannot be more than 20 options." Ziva understood that he was overwhelmed, but if he was going to continue with the passive aggression and sarcasm, he was going to be no help. 

"Did I really need to be here?" As soon as the question came out of his mouth, he regretted it. 

"Tony, you are the one who wanted to stay in Israel. If you have changed your mind, you are more than welcome to go." Tony’s heart sank at the intense look of disappointment that filled Ziva’s face. That one stupid question might’ve ruined months of progress. 

"That’s not what I meant. Ziva." Of course that’s not what he’d meant. He loved Ziva and his child more than anything, but these situations were all completely new to him, and if he was honest with himself, they’re situations he never thought he’d find himself in. He’d all but given up on ever becoming a father, and then Ziva came back into his life, and she wasn’t alone, and now they were about four weeks away from welcoming new life. It was a lot to deal with. 

"Tony, just go. I will find my own way home." Ziva shoved the keys to their new car towards him, practically pushing him away from her. She was mad, and she wanted him to know he’d fucked up. 

"No, I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry for what I said. Of course I want to be here, buying things for our child. I love our child. I’m just out of my comfort zone." Tony really didn’t mean to make her mad. 

"You think this is my comfort zone? Tony, after Somalia, I did not think children were still an option. I thought I was infertile, and my doctors never said anything otherwise. This baby is a miracle, yes, but it is not what I had envisioned when I thought about my life after Somalia. I know that you are overwhelmed, but so am I. I do not want to be selfish, but I am the one who actually has to give birth to the baby and give my body to our child for many months on end, both in pregnancy and breastfeeding. Please cut me some lack.” Normally, Tony would’ve jumped at the opportunity to correct her English flubs, but it didn’t feel appropriate in that moment. He really hadn’t given a lot of thought into how Ziva was feeling about the enormity of their situation, and now he felt guilty about that fact. He’d simply assumed that’d she’d come to terms with everything in the months she’d known about the pregnancy before he’d shown up, but maybe he was wrong. He’d been so busy thrusting his feelings towards her that he hadn’t stop to consider she might be anything but excited. 

"This is a conversation we should’ve had 2 months ago, and I’m sorry we didn’t." Tony sighed, running his good hand down his face. "You’re not the one who’s been selfish, I am. The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve only asked you maybe three times how you are. I’m constantly talking about my feelings, but I never ask you about yours." 

"I really did not want to bring this up in the middle of a store. Can we please just finish and leave?" Ziva did not have want to have a conversation that was sure to come with yelling and tears in the middle of a store. 

Tony nodded, motioning for her to lead the way. Ziva continued further into the store, Tony following a safe distance behind. If they hadn’t just had the conversation they’d had, Tony would’ve commented on how cute her pregnancy waddle was, but it didn’t feel appropriate. He definitely was not going to poke the ninja assassin bear again. At some point as they were walking through the store, Tony lost sight of Ziva. Even nine months pregnant, her ninja skills were as sharp as ever. Tony started roaming the aisles to look for her. While he walked around the store, he briefly glanced at various items on the shelves. 

A dog. A plush, soft, brown dog, to be specific. Tony had no idea why, but this toy caught his eye. It was drowning in a sea of various stuffed animals, but this one caught his eye. He picked it up and kept walking in search of Ziva. He didn’t know why, but he felt a strange sense of pride spread its way through his chest. He’d just done his first act as a father: pick out a toy for his child. It was such a small action, and would likely have no effect on the overall life of his child, but it was something. 

For a boutique, the store was quite large. Tony realized as much as he roamed the aisles, still in search of Ziva. He was about to give up and call her when he finally found her, leaning against one of the shelves, lightly humming and rubbing small circles over her bump. 

"Ziva?" Tony saw her shoulders jump ever-so-slightly when she heard his voice. Usually nothing scared Ziva, especially not him. "Are you ok?"

Ziva blew out a breath, slowly standing up straight and turning towards him. 

"I am alright. I was having a contraction." Ziva knew she should’ve elaborated when she saw his eyes practically leave their sockets and his eyebrows jump up to his hairline. 

“A contraction? It’s too early. You’re not due for a month. We don’t have anything yet." Tony rambled, and if Ziva had been in a better mood, she would’ve found it endearing. 

"Not a real contraction, Tony. It was a practice contraction, of sorts. They are called Braxton Hicks. I have been having them for about a month, but I was better at hiding them. This week, they have gotten stronger. My doctor told me it is perfectly normal, and they’re not consistent like real contractions will be." Ziva’s reasoning for walking away from him had been twofold: she wanted to put some space between them for them to both cool down, and she wanted to be alone, feeling uncomfortable and not wanting him to see it. Old habits die hard, including her desire to be alone when she was sick or in pain. 

"Are you sure we shouldn’t take you to the hospital?" Ziva resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d been the one to continue going to the birthing classes, and she’d given Tony an out after the accident, partially because he wasn’t much use with only one functioning arm and leg, and partially because of how out of his comfort zone he was. She’d learned a lot of helpful tips, some of which she planned on using when the time came. His lack of knowledge, though, made her realize maybe she should’ve pushed harder for him to go with her. 

"No, Tony. I am fine.” Tony nodded in acceptance, but still looked at her with a profoundly concerned look in his eyes. 

"Did you find a dresser?" They were standing in the dresser aisle, so he figured he should change the subject and try to ease the tension by asking about the item Ziva was so insistent on them buying. 

"I found one that I like, yes, but I want your opinion on it. If you really are going to stay for all of this, you should have a say in what we buy for our child." Ziva was trying to sound indifferent, but Tony could see right through her façade. She was worried he would leave. 

"I’m not going anywhere, Ziva. I’m in this for the long haul." He stared into her eyes, showing his just how sincere he was. 

"I am not sure what you are hauling, and why it is long, but ok." Tony chuckled lightly, but didn’t correct her. Maybe another time. 

"Which one did you pick?" Tony scanned his eyes over the selections in front of him, none of them really standing out to him. This was so out of his wheelhouse. Hell, he didn’t even know how to pick furniture for himself. His bedroom was furnished with the same furniture he’d had since he was fifteen.

"This one." Ziva pointed to a white dresser with floral decorations carved into the drawers. It was pretty, Tony would give it that. "I know it does not really matter which one we pick, obviously, but this one just stood out to me. I looked at all of the other options, but I came back to this one. If you do not like it, we can find something else." Ziva looked up at him expectantly, almost as if she was waiting to be disappointed by his answer. In the past few weeks, Ziva found herself waiting for the other shoe to drop. She’d never gone this long without things going so incredibly wrong, surely something was going to happen. 

"I like it, I really do." Tony was being completely truthful, but Ziva saw something else. 

"But?" Ziva knew there was something else. This was the other shoe, right? 

"I like it, but it’s a bit girly. What if the baby is a boy?" In all actuality, Tony was 95% sure that the baby was a girl, but he and Ziva hadn’t really discussed it. Really, they hadn’t discussed a lot about the baby themself. They’d tried to work out their own stuff, strengthening their relationship, but the baby had kind of been a topic they tried to avoid. They’d both agreed that they loved their child, that much was certain, but they were still a little in denial that a baby would be joining them in a very short month. 

"I know we have never really discussed, but I have a gut feeling that the baby is a girl. The few things I already bought for the baby are gender neutral, but I am pretty sure we are having a girl. If they turn out to be a boy, we can return this." Tony smiled softly, loving that Ziva felt the same way he did. It would be very surprising if their baby turned out to be a boy. 

"Let’s get it." Ziva smiled in response, but said nothing else, slowly walking away in search of more items. 

By the end of their rollercoaster of a shopping trip, they ended up with a dresser, a bassinet, a few swaddles, several gender neutral onesies, a set of bottles, a two-pack of pacifiers, and the stuffed dog toy Tony had found. They both agreed that it wasn’t enough, but it was a start. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 

"Ok, humor me for a second. I can’t get what you said at dinner last night out of my head." Ziva nodded, her head rubbing against Tony’s thigh as she laid upon it. Her head was in his lap as they sat on the couch, watching one of Tony’s favorite movies on his laptop; it was all very…domestic. "Children. I know you basically said children are never in the cards for you, which is a whole other thing to unpack, but just humor me. If you were to ever have kids, what would they be like? I mean, you said you told people it was a girl, so what would you name her? What kind of mother would you be?" Tony sighed, feeling stupid for even broaching the subject again. "You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I just can’t get the image of you as a mother out of my head.” 

Ziva let Tony’s words stew in her head for a bit, leaving only the sound of the movie. She really tried not to dwell on the parts of life she was sure she would never get to partake in: marriage, kids, a normal career, peace. It was easier to act like she didn’t want those things instead of pining after a lost cause. With that said, every so often, when she was feeling especially sorry for herself, she would allow herself to think about everything she’d never get. 

"Tali. I would name her Tali." Ziva said it so matter-of-fact, as if there was no other possible answer. Really, there was no other answer. 

"Another Tali David?" Tony didn’t want to indulge his own fantasies, but he couldn’t help himself. Sometimes, when he was feeling especially sorry for himself, he would allow himself to believe what a life with Ziva would have looked like if things had gone differently. 

"No. Tali David already lived and loved, and while her life was too short, it is over and there should never be someone else with her name, at least not in my bloodline. My Tali would have her father’s last name, whatever that may be." Tony was really glad Ziva wasn’t able to see his face straight on at that moment. He was pretty sure he hadn’t done his best at hiding his reaction to her words. 

Tali DiNozzo. It seemed so foreign, yet so familiar at the same time. Tony supposed the simultaneous foreign nature and familiarity was his fantasy battle with reality. No, there would never be a Tali DiNozzo, at least not in this lifetime. Maybe, if things had been different. 

“Tali is a very pretty name. What does it mean?" 

"I am not sure I love the meaning, but it does not matter to me all that much. Tali means ‘my lamb’ in Hebrew." Ziva wasn’t so sure if Tali had lived up to that meaning. Had she been a lamb? Literally, no, of course not. Figuratively, maybe. Lamb of God? Ziva didn’t know. "What would you name a child? If you ever were to have one, that is." 

"I would name her after my mom, Lillian. Although, there was already a Lillian DiNozzo, so I would want Lillian to be her middle name." Tony really did mean that, but he also was hoping Ziva would connect the dots. Maybe Tali Lillian DiNozzo would one day exist, who knew? 

"And a boy?" There was a fifty-fifty chance of having a boy, right? 

"I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it. The only name I can confidently say I will not give my child is Anthony DiNozzo. The buck will stop with me." For most of Tony’s life, especially his adult life, being a junior had done nothing good for him. He wouldn’t subject his son to that. 

“What about Daniel?" Tony looked at her with wide eyes. He had never told anyone his middle name. How the hell did she know?

"Why would you ask that?" He was trying to play it off as if he had no connection to the name. 

"It is your middle name, Tony. Would you not want to give it to your son?"

"How do you know that’s my middle name, Ziva?" 

"I asked your father the last time he was in DC. Before you ask, no, I did not tell anyone." Ziva smiled at Tony’s expression of surprise. It was quite amusing. 

"Well, Daniel is my middle name, but it’s also Senior’s. I’m not sure if I would want to give the name to my son. I don’t know, I guess I’d have to give it some more thought.” Tony paused, returning his gaze back to the movie. Casablanca. He watched the scene play out for a bit before he spoke again. "What about you? What would you name a boy?"

"I have always liked the name Isaac. My saba, my mother’s father, was named Isaac, and his father before him. It has strong ties to my family and has not been tainted by the David name." 

"Isaac’s a good name. What does it mean?" Of course, Tony was familiar with the name. He’d known several people named Isaac, but he’d never thought to look up the meaning. Plus, where he came from, name meaning was never given much thought. Ziva seemed to care about, or at least know the meaning of names. 

"Isaac means ‘one who laughs or rejoices.’ After all of the heartache I have lived through, my child would deserve a life of joy." 

"Ziva! Ziva, I’m home. Where are you?" Tony walked through the door of the farmhouse, exhausted from his second round of PT. The doctor had not been lying, PT was no joke. When he walked in, he didn’t immediately see or hear Ziva, and a twinge of panic set in. Every time he left her by herself, not that it happened that often these days, he had a feeling in the back of his mind that she was going to rabbit. 

"I am in the nursery." Ziva called out in response, an immediate relief washing over Tony at the sound of her voice. 

Tony put his PT bag down in their bedroom and then made his way into the nursery. It was small, yes, about the size of a large walk in closet, but it was perfect for a baby. They’d both agreed the baby wouldn’t sleep in the nursery for a while, but it was nice to have a room to store most of the baby’s stuff in. 

"Hey, whatcha doin’?” The scene in front of him was a sight to behold, for sure. Ziva was sitting crisscrossed in front of the small dresser they’d picked out, folding tiny clothes and putting them into the drawers. Her round belly was very pronounced with the way she was sitting, and Tony couldn’t help but think about how much she looked like a mom. Ima. 

"I washed the new clothes we bought and the ones I had already bought, and now I am putting them away." Tony glanced around the room, noting the furniture that the previously-unassembled furniture was now put together and in very specific places. He’d only been gone for about three hours. She’d done all of this, by herself, at 38 weeks pregnant, in less than three hours. Her fierce independence never ceased to surprise him. 

"Didn’t you already wash the clothes you bought months back? Why did you wash them again?" He was planning on asking her about why she put the nursery together by herself, but he figured he’d ease into that topic. 

"They have been sitting in the closet for months, Tony. They collected dust, and I do not want them to be dusty when I put them in the dresser. Plus, our newborn will have a very fragile immune system, and dust is less than ideal." Tony nodded, understanding her reasoning. He’d done a little reading about pregnancy, especially the end of pregnancy. He needed to prepare himself for what to expect, especially when Ziva went into labor. He’d read that nesting was a very common occurrence and usually consisted of an instinctual need to clean and organize everything. 

"Nesting, right?" Ziva nodded, confirming Tony’s suspicions. 

"I just want us to be as prepared as possible. That is also why I put together all of the furniture. I realized, after I was finished, that I should have waited for you, not because I needed help, but because this is your baby, too. I am sorry." Ziva really was trying to work on being more open to making decisions about their child together. She wanted to show him that she fully trusted him, but it was hard, and as she got closer to the birth, she was finding it harder. In all honesty, she was scared. Scared about the pain of labor. Scared of something going wrong. Scared of showing vulnerability, even in Tony’s presence. The whole process of birth was scary. The fear she had made her retreat into herself more, leaving Tony high and dry. She felt bad, yes, but she didn’t know how to remedy the issue. 

"It’s ok, Ziva. I’m not mad.” And he really wasn’t. He knew there’d be plenty of teamwork when the baby arrived, so he’d let her need for independence slide. 

“Do you like it?" Ziva asked, referring to the room, now fully furnished and decorated. 

"I do. It’s simple, but still cozy. I’m sure it’ll be perfect for our baby." Ziva smiled slightly, content with Tony’s answer. 

"How was physical therapy?" Ziva felt bad that she hadn’t gone. She’d tried to attend all of his appointments, wanting to show her support. That morning, though, she’d woken up feeling extremely nauseous. She’d read that GI upset was a common symptom in the last few weeks of pregnancy. That morning, she’d been taken back to the early weeks of her pregnancy, and she’d insisted she was fine on her own. Tony would’ve pushed harder to stay, but he couldn’t miss his appointment. He reluctantly left, leaving her by herself, apparently to wash clothes and organize the nursery. 

"It was fine. I got my ass kicked, but it was productive, I guess. Right now, my leg is really sore. Luckily, my arm feels fine." Ziva nodded, pleased with his honesty. Sometimes, he’d downplay the intensity of the sessions, knowing she was uncomfortable and in pain. He felt like his pain was so much less important than the pain she felt carrying their child, so he tended to not say anything about how he was feeling. "How are you feeling? Are you still nauseous?" 

"No, not anymore. The nausea went away about thirty minutes after I woke up. I am uncomfortable, yes, but no more than normal." Ziva ran her hand down her bump, wincing slightly as she felt the baby’s feet make contact with her ribs. "Can I get some help?" She was shy about the question, still not comfortable with their implementation of Rule 28. She reached her arms up, making eye contact with Tony. Using context clues, Tony understood that she needed help getting off the floor. He wanted to say some snide comment, but he bit his tongue. He used his good hand to help her up, and then ran his hand over her bump, attempting to calm down the kicks that he knew were making her uncomfortable. 

"We’re definitely gonna have a little ninja with these kicks." Ziva smiled, wordlessly agreeing with him. 

"Mmm, maybe they will grow up to be an athlete, maybe a basketball player like their dad." Ziva looked up at him, finding that the look of adoration on his face at her comment made her feel all warm and gooey. 

"Yeah, maybe. They might be a dancer, a little ballerina like their mom." Ziva’s smile fell a bit, but she knew he meant well. Her love of dance had been ruined by her father. With Tony as her child’s father, she was confident that would never happen. 

"Ima, but yes, maybe they will be a dancer." She and Tony hadn’t really talked about it, but she wanted their child to call her ima, not mom. 

"Right, ima. That’s gonna take some getting used to. Are you ok with me wanting to be called dad, not abba?" Hearing Ziva cry out for her father as she held his dead body really tainted the word ‘abba’ for him. Plus, he was so used to the American norm of calling one’s father ‘dad.’ He’d called Senior ‘dad’ for most of his life, all of his friends growing up called their fathers ‘dad.’ Abba just felt so foreign to him. 

"Yes, I am ok with that. It shows a blending of our cultures. When an Israeli and an American raise a child together, there are bound to be cultural differences, and I want our child to see that we celebrate those differences. I want us to celebrate Hanukkah and Christmas, Passover and Easter, Rosh Hashanah and English New Year. I do not know about other American holidays like Halloween and Thanksgiving, because they just aren’t celebrated in Israel, but I am sure we will figure it out." Tony nodded, taking in everything she’d said. They had yet to discuss a lot of things, including what type of religious upbringing their child would have. Tony had never been particularly religious, but Ziva was. She’d been raised Jewish, and he knew she saw a lot of value in her religion. 

"Will our child be raised Jewish? I mean, Jewish lineage goes through the mom, so they’ll be Jewish by birth, right?" Tony knew very little about Judaism. He’d learned a little in school, sure, but he didn’t know all the intricacies of the religion. He figured he should probably learn about all those intricacies, especially if he was going to be raising a Jewish child. 

"I do want to talk about all of this, really, I do, but can we table it for a bit? No offense, but you need a shower, and I do not want to have a lengthy conversation standing up. My back is starting to hurt." Right, 38 weeks of pregnancy really took a toll on a body. 

"Right. I’ll take a shower, then we can talk in a more comfortable place. Living room?" Ziva nodded, walking out of the nursery and starting down the hall. 

"I will make lunch." With that, Ziva disappeared around the corner, leaving Tony to go take a shower. 

30 minutes later, a clean Tony sat down on the couch with Ziva to enjoy the sandwiches she’d made and a sure-to-be involved conversation about their child’s future.

"So…" Tony started, but quickly trailed off, not really knowing where to start. 

"Yes?" Ziva could answer all the questions she knew he had, but she wanted him to be the one to ask them. The ball was in his court. 

"So, do you want our child to be raised Jewish?" 

"To answer your question from earlier, first of all, yes, the Jewish faith is carried down through maternal lineage. Our child will be Jewish because I am Jewish. Ethnically, our child is Israeli, and our child will have both Israeli and American citizenship. As for how I would like to raise our child in a religious sense, I would like to raise them to be Jewish." It was long-winded, yes, but necessary. She wanted to be as clear as possible. 

"So what exactly will that look like? Shabbat dinner every Friday night? Going to a temple on specific days? Celebrating every Jewish holiday? Bat or Bar Mitzvah? Circumcision? Like, how far do you want to take things?" Tony knew they were both convinced their baby was a girl, but what if they were wrong? Would Ziva push to have a circumcision done? Was there even a choice to be made? Tony had no idea what the laws in Israel were, despite him having obtained a visa. 

"Shabbat dinner every week? No, just on occasion. Going to temple? No, I rarely ever went for the entire time I lived in DC. I suppose going to temple is much more common here in Israel, but I do not see myself going anymore than on occasion. Celebrating every Jewish holiday? Not all of them, but some. Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah, Passover, and Hanukkah. Those were the most important holidays in my family.” Ziva paused, running her hand over her sore ribs. The baby seemingly never stopped kicking, and as much as Ziva loved to know the baby was ok, it got old after a while. And painful. 

"Bat or Bar Mitzvah? Circumcision?" Those two seemed like the most important to him.

"To talk about those, we first need to talk about where we plan to send our child to school? International school? American school? Jewish school?" Tony really didn’t see the connection, but he’d humor her. She was being open and honest, and he didn’t want to mess that up. 

"Well, I think because our child will be mixed, ethnically, culturally, and otherwise, an international school would make the most sense. They can learn about all different cultures, languages, religions, while surrounded by kids who look like them or come from similar mixed backgrounds. I mean, if we were in the US, would you want them to go to a Jewish school?" Honestly, Tony would be perfectly fine with public school if they were in the US, but he was pretty sure Ziva would disagree. 

"Not necessarily, no. If we were in DC and found a good international school, that is where I would want them to go. We are not in DC, though. Be’er Sheva does have international schools, but not any close to here. We would have to drive to and from the city everyday to take our child to school. Is that what you want?" Ziva did not mind the drive, but it would become a hassle over time. 

"We already have to drive into the city to do everything, Ziva. I mean, the closest store to here is like 35 minutes away. I don’t think the drive will be anything compared to driving to Tel Aviv every time we go to the hospital, which seems to be a lot." Ziva gave a smirk, knowing exactly what he meant. Why did they always seem to end up in a place they both hated so often? 

"International school, it is?" Tony nodded, extending his agreement. "That leads me to my next point: I do not believe a Bar or Bat Mitzvah is necessary, unless our child shows interest. At an international school, our child is much more likely to have friends of different religions and ethnicities, and thus not be as exposed to the Jewish traditions. At a Jewish school, our child might get jealous or feel left out if they did not have a Bar or Bat Mitzvah of their own. Right now, I am going to give you the tentative answer of no, but that could change. I do not want you to get your heart set on not having a Bar or Bat Mitzvah for our child, just for them to decide they do want one. I am not going to force the issue, but I also will not discourage them if they decide it is what they want." 

"Ok, so Bar/Bat Mitzvah is a maybe, good to know. Now, circumcision? There’s a fifty percent chance the baby is a boy, so we definitely need to discuss this." This was a serious decision, one that he never thought he would have a part in making, so he wanted it to be taken seriously. 

"Ok, so a little religious context: the ceremonial circumcision is usually done by a trained Rabbi at a ceremony called a Bris. The baby will also officially receive their name at a Bris. There is a covenant in the Jewish faith that states a boy shall be circumcised on the eighth day after birth. I do not have any strong opinions for or against circumcision. If I was ever faced with the decision, I would most likely go through with the Bris, simply because it is tradition. Now, I see no reason to uphold tradition simply for the sake of upholding tradition. I am not male, and I have no idea what the physical aspects of a circumcision are. I do not have any feelings one way or the other." Ziva didn’t want to say that she was leaving the decision up to him, but she had hoped her implications were clear. 

"We’ll play it by ear, if we have a boy." Ziva nodded, agreeing with him. 

And it was all a waiting game now. They’d done what they could to prepare, although they both agreed it probably wasn’t enough. They’d had conversations that they’d deemed to be important, although they were both sure there would be many more to come. Plans were set and bags were packed, and now they just wait for their little bundle of joy to make their arrival.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 

"Ziva, look at her. Open your eyes, Ziva. I know it’s hard, but if you don’t see her now, you won’t get the chance again. Open your eyes." Tony pleaded, understanding why she’d closed her eyes and refused to look at their daughter. 

Tali Lillian DiNozzo, a beautiful baby girl weighing 7lbs and 8oz and measuring 19 inches long, entered the world sleeping. It had all happened so suddenly. Ziva had gone into labor in the early morning hours, and she labored at home for several hours. She’d believed everything was happening exactly how it was supposed to, but the doctor had disproved her belief. When they got to the hospital, the doctor found no heartbeat. There was no explanation, no discernible reason; Tali had simply passed before she even had the chance to be born. 

Ziva did not cry. She did not scream. She was completely silent for the rest of the labor, even as she pushed out their daughter. Her silence terrified Tony, but he was helpless. He was using all of his energy to keep himself together for Ziva’s sake, and he simply could not divert any energy to getting Ziva to show any kind of reaction. 

"Take her away, Tony. I do not want to see her." It would hurt too much, Ziva knew that much. Ziva did not want to fall in love with a daughter who would never get to live a life. It was not fair. 

"Ziva." Tony placed his hands on her cheeks, cupping her face and positioning her head to face his. Ziva caved, opening her eyes and staring into his. They were sad, and Ziva couldn’t stand it. 

"I can’t, Tony." Ziva’s voice broke, and it broke his heart. 

"Ok, so don’t look at her. Look at me." Ziva continued staring only into his eyes, refusing to allow her eyes to wander around the room. She couldn’t risk catching even a glimpse of their daughter. 

"It is not fair. She was supposed to live a better life than what we got. She was supposed to live, Tony. She never even got a chance." Ziva didn’t want to cry, she really didn’t. If she started crying, she was sure she’d never stop. 

"I know it’s not fair. She deserved the world, and it’s not fair. I know." Tony paused, feeling the onset of tears. He had to stay strong, but his resolve was breaking. "I don’t have any words to say, because nothing will make this ok. We lost our daughter, and it fucking sucks. Please, please look at her. She’s beautiful, Ziva. She is the perfect mix of both of us. I know it’s hard, but you deserve to see how beautiful your daughter is. You will hate yourself if you never give yourself a chance. Please." 

Ziva wanted to protest, but she couldn’t find the words. She gently removed his hands and turned her head, eyes roaming the room until they found their target. Tony nodded at the nurse, signaling it was ok. Ziva took their daughter into her arms, and she couldn’t help but think how right Tony was; Tali was beautiful. She had light brown, curly hair, tanned skin, and an adorable button nose. She was the perfect mix of her parents, and Ziva was sure she’d have had the perfect mix of her parents’ personalities. 

"I am so sorry, Tali. Ima loves you, Tali. I am so sorry." Ziva wept, her tears falling down onto Tali’s cold skin. 

Ziva gasped, startled awake by the nightmare. It wasn’t real, Ziva. It was just a dream. Ziva tried to reassure herself, but she couldn’t. The baby was too still for her liking, and the house was too quiet, and it was too dark. Something was wrong, and she was sure of it. Ziva slowly made her way out of the bed, trying her best not to wake Tony. She didn’t need to worry him because of her own demons. 

Ziva padded (waddled-39 weeks of pregnancy made it hard to walk normally) her way out of the bedroom and made her way towards the kitchen. If Tony was awake, he’d probably say her ‘ninja senses were tingling,’ and as stupid as she found the statement she was sure he’d make, she was also sure the sentiment would ring true; something was wrong. Ziva felt like she was walking on eggshells as she walked to the kitchen. She couldn’t quite place what was wrong, but that dream had made her feel extremely on edge. 

Ziva, trying to calm her nerves, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Just as she went to close the fridge, a barrage of bullets entered the house. Luckily, even with her large bump, Ziva ducked behind the island, avoiding all of the rounds. A brief ceasefire ensued, but it only lasted a few seconds. Bullets continued to fly, and Ziva cursed her past self for not keeping any guns within closer reach. There were two guns in the kitchen, but neither of them were within her reach, and she definitely wasn’t going to risk getting shot to grab a gun. 

In the bedroom, the situation wasn’t any better. Bullets flew through the window, startling Tony awake. By some miracle, as Tony scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom, he managed to avoid getting shot. Unlike Ziva, he was in a room with both guns in reach. One behind the toilet and one under the sink. Unfortunately, even if he took both guns and shot them at the same time, they’d be no match for the several automatic rifles that rapidly sprayed bullets into the house. 

"Ziva!" Tony called out, even though he knew it was probably futile. He didn’t even know where she was, let alone if she was alive. She’s alive, Tony. She’s alive. Tony didn’t want to allow himself to believe anything was wrong with her. He couldn’t. Things were finally looking up, they were about to become parents; they were going to be ok. "Ok, Tony. You can do this." Tony whispered to himself, grabbing both guns and opening the bathroom door. The gunfire had ceased momentarily, but Tony was sure it wouldn’t last long. Now was his chance to go find Ziva. "Ziva!" Tony called out again, carefully and quickly making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall. He was trying to stay as close to the ground as possible, but that was not an easy feat. He was pushing 45, and his body didn’t move the way it once did. 

"In the kitchen!" Ziva called back, and the relief Tony felt was palpable. She was alive, and that was all that mattered. 

Tony continued his way to the kitchen, blowing out a breath when he finally saw her. She was unharmed, luckily, and crouched behind the island. She looked extremely uncomfortable, but then again, as she moved closer to her due date, Tony was pretty sure she was always uncomfortable. 

"Are you ok?" Tony asked, sitting down next to her behind the island. 

"I am unharmed, if that is what you mean." Ziva was not ok, but who would be in this kind of situation? 

"And the baby?" Tony loved his child, yes, but Ziva’s safety was his main priority. Only once he knew Ziva was safe could he allow himself to worry about the baby.

"They are ok. They are kicking like crazy." Ziva took Tony’s hand, removed the gun, and placed his palm on the top of her bump. Tony immediately felt strong kicks against his hand, and he gave a relieved smile. 

"Ok, so what’s the plan? I mean, we can’t sit here forever. We’re sitting ducks. Eventually, they are going to get in." Tony had been in this situation before, sure, but this time was different. Ziva was 39 weeks pregnant, they were severely outgunned, and they had no back up and nowhere to run to. 

"If we can get to the car, we should be ok. I packed go-bags in the car for all three of us." The car was parked at the back of the house, opposite from where the gunfire had come from. Provided no one had slashed the tires or killed the engine, it should service them well. 

"When?" Ziva hadn’t told him she’d done that. They were together for the majority of everyday, so when had she done that? 

"Two nights ago. I could not sleep, so I found something to keep myself occupied." Ziva took in a deep breath, trying to ease the stress coursing through her. "Right now, though, I do not think we really need to be discussing this. There are bigger matters at foot, yes?" Tony smirked, but said nothing. It wasn’t the time. 

"Yes, you’re right." Tony knew the ceasefire meant they were advancing closer to the house. They didn’t have very long to make their exit. 

Tony carefully stood up, trying to avoid the windows, and held out his hand. Ziva graciously took it, because getting off the floor at 39 weeks pregnant was not an easy feat. Once they were both on their feet, they quickly made a run for the back door of the house. Admittedly, Ziva was ‘running’ far too slow for Tony’s liking, but he definitely was not going to mention it. He knew she was doing her best, especially given the large bump throwing off her center of gravity. 

Surprisingly, once they finally made it out of the house and to the car, it was seemingly completely untouched. They both quickly climbed in, and Tony immediately started driving off away from the house, through the olive vineyard that Ziva had so desperately wanted to raise their child in. Something about leaving felt final, and Ziva hated it. 

Once they had gotten several meters away, a loud ‘boom’ sounded, and Ziva looked back to see the house burst into flames. 

"Holy shit!" Tony exclaimed, pressing harder on the gas, eager to get them even farther from the danger. 

"Rocket launcher. I assume that was meant for us, or rather, me." That realization had not been hard to reach. It was not impossible to figure out that she had been living at the farmhouse, and she assumed if anyone really wanted to, they could discover that Tony had been living there with her. 

"I guess our demons have followed us." Tony sighed, running his free hand through his messy hair. 

"Rule 8 always rings true." Ziva’s voice broke, even though she had tried very hard to keep her emotions at bay. She angrily wiped the tears as they fell; now was not the time to cry. Nothing ever went right, so why was she surprised that yet another thing went wrong? These tears she really would blame on the hormones. Non-pregnant, normal Ziva would not cry over losing material items. It was just a house, why the hell was she so sad? 

Tony gently placed his free hand on her thigh and gave a loving squeeze. He knew she didn’t want platitudes, but he wanted to show her that he was there, no matter what. He was upset too, yes, but not nearly as much as he knew she was. That was her childhood home, the home she’d convinced herself was where they’d raise their child, and he knew that watching it go up in flames was not easy. 

"Do you think it’s time we call the team? Or at least Gibbs?" Tony knew there wasn’t much the team would be able to do from all the way across the Atlantic, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt. Right, anything was better than driving around Israel, waiting for something else to happen. 

"There is very little that they can do for us, Tony, short of hopping on a plane to Israel. I cannot fly, and I am very limited in what I can actually do. Right now, we just need to keep driving." Ziva leaned her head back, drawing small, soothing circles over her bump. As uncomfortable as the strong kicks were, it was a relief that the baby was still so active, because it was a sign that they were ok. Ziva didn’t know what she’d do if something had happened to the baby. 

"Where are we driving to? I mean, we’ve got a full tank of gas, so we can go for a while, but I’d like to have some idea of where we’re going." Ziva sighed, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She hadn’t had a chance to do anything before the bullets had started, and the baby pressing on her bladder made that fact abundantly clear. 

"My aunt’s house, I suppose. She used to be a midwife. I assume we will not be able to safely make it to a hospital, and I could give birth any day now. I would feel safest with her." Ziva knew that the baby would not wait for anyone, and rather than trying to delay the inevitable, it would be best to be as prepared as possible, despite the less-than-ideal situation.

"Do you feel like the baby is coming now?" Tony couldn’t tell how she was feeling, emotionally or physically. Her expression was slightly distressed, but he could tell she was trying very hard to keep a poker face. 

"No, I am not having any contractions. The baby is not coming right now, but I am sure they will come soon. Either way, I would rather be somewhere that is safe for all of us." Tony nodded, agreeing with her, but saying nothing else. 

"We’ll get through this." Tony assured, squeezing her thigh again and briefly making eye contact. 

"I hope so."

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 

"She told me that calling you was basically useless, but I have no one else to turn to." Tony took a pleading tone with the caller on the other end. 

“Rule 28, Tony. I can have the team on the next flight out to Tel Aviv, just say the word." Gibbs had heard about the bombing, of course he had. Not only had it made international news, but Gibbs also had his own personal sources. 

"She seems to think that we can handle things by ourselves, but I’m not so convinced. I mean, Boss, she’s two days past her due date. She could have the baby at any point, and what do we do then? I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect both of them by myself." Tony looked over at Ziva, who was sleeping seemingly soundly on the bed beside him. They’d made it to her aunt’s house on the outskirts of Tel Aviv, and five days later, the uneventful-ness was refreshing. Both fortunately and unfortunately, Ziva hadn’t shown any signs of labor. She was extremely uncomfortable, but also slightly relieved that the baby had yet to make an appearance. It gave them that much more time to come up with a game plan. 

"Is this you talking, or are you asking for help, DiNozzo? If you’re just talking, call again at a more reasonable hour, because it’s 0100." A slightly more rested Gibbs would be completely willing to lend an ear, but he’d only gotten an hour or so of sleep, and he didn’t have the patience to listen to Tony ramble. 

Tony sighed, running his free hand down his face. Tony didn’t want to go against Ziva, especially given her current state, but he was basically given no choice. They knew virtually nothing about whoever was after them, they were packing light, they had no backup, and Ziva was practically a ticking time bomb. 

"I guess I’m asking for help. We can’t do this alone, and we can’t leave Israel. We need backup." Tony knew Ziva would be upset, but he didn’t really care. If they were safe and alive, that was really all that mattered. 

"I’ll call the team. We’ll be in Tel Aviv ASAP. Tell Ziva to hang tight." With that, Gibbs hung up, quickly moving to put everything into action. 

"What happened to not calling them?" Ziva murmured, slowly waking up from her slumber. Ziva carefully rolled over to face him from where he sat in the chair beside the bed. 

"We need their help, Ziva. I hate feeling like we’re sitting ducks. In a very short amount of time, it won’t just be us. Soon, nothing else will matter more than our child. Our child needs to be safe and protected, and I don’t know that I can do that by myself. What if whoever is out to get us finds us? Then what?" Tony looked into eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. He knew she was just conflicted as he was, so he was hoping he’d be able to appeal to logic. 

"I might be pregnant, yes, but I am not an invalid. I can still fight, especially if my child’s life depends on it." Ziva tried not to be offended by Tony’s actions, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like he saw her as less than because of her current state. 

"I have no doubt that you could fight, Ziva, but you shouldn’t have to. You’re about to have a baby, and even though you are a badass ninja assassin, labor and birth will be just as hard for you as it is for everyone else. Why is it fair that you have to fight for your life and our child’s life either right before or right after you’ve given birth?" Maybe appealing to logic wasn’t going to work. 

"It is not fair, Tony, but it is life. I signed up for this life a long time ago, and I was naïve to believe that I could actually escape this life." There was a pang of sadness in her voice, and Tony’s heart broke for her. She didn’t deserve this. She deserved the fresh start she so desperately wanted. 

"As true or not true as that might be, our child didn’t sign up for this life. Don’t you think we should do everything we can to make sure their fate isn’t set in stone before they’re even born?" Tony so desperately wanted to reach out and wipe away the tears that fell from her eyes, but he didn’t want to overstep. 

Ziva sighed, trying to reign in the tears. She was so tired of the constant mood swings. She couldn’t wait to not be pregnant anymore. 

"You are right. Thank you for calling Gibbs." Ziva rubbed a hand over her bump, trying to ease the kicks she felt. 

"I did it for all of us. None of us deserve this, regardless of what we signed up for decades ago." Tony decided to test the waters, reaching over and grabbing her hand.

In response, Ziva gave him a weak smile, trying to show him that she was ok. Maybe one day, she really would be. Unfortunately, that day was not the day. 

"Breakfast is ready!” The pair heard a distant holler from outside their door. Clearly Nettie had been busy that morning. 

"Are you hungry?" Tony asked, helping Ziva sit up in bed. 

"No. I feel as though there is no more room inside me, especially not for food. Our child is surely going to be ten pounds." Ziva rubbed the spot where the baby’s feet were, right under her ribs. 

"Well, I am starving. I can eat enough for all three of us." Tony gave her a bright smile, trying to lighten the mood. He carefully pulled her up to her feet, a feat that was getting increasingly harder with every passing day. 

"Go. I will be out in a few minutes. Your child’s head is pressing down on my bladder." Tony gave a small chuckle, turning on his heel and heading towards the door. He quickly left the room, in search of the delicious smell emanating from the kitchen, leaving Ziva alone in the bedroom. 

Ziva, feeling suddenly lightheaded, sat back down on the bed, running a hand over her bump. 

"Be nice, motek." Ziva whispered to the baby, trying to ease the relentless movement. 

After a few moments, Ziva decided to stand up again, because she really did have to pee. As she stood up, she felt a weird pressure in her pelvis. When she took a step forward, she felt a strange pop and then a trickle of liquid ran down her legs. For a split second, Ziva was convinced she’d peed herself. She hadn’t, right? No, she definitely hadn’t. She still felt like she had to pee, and she couldn’t stop the trickle of liquid. 

Trying to avoid making too much of a mess on the floor, Ziva quickly made her way to the en-suite bathroom. She finally peed, but once she was sure her bladder was empty, the steady trickle of liquid didn’t stop. It confirmed what she had started to suspect: her water had broken.

Not really knowing what else to do, Ziva rummaged around for a pad, finding an old one under the sink. Ziva put it on, flushed the toilet, and washed her hands. She carefully inspected herself in the mirror, running her hands over her bump. It definitely looked lower than it had yesterday. The thought of giving birth, while obviously always on her mind, had always seemed like such a far off occurrence. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it. Now, looking at herself in the mirror, feeling the pressure of her baby’s head in her pelvis, she realized that she was, in fact, crossing the bridge, and it kind of scared her. Taking a deep breath, Ziva turned off the light and exited the bathroom. She quickly changed her pants, tossed the dirty ones in the hamper, and left the bedroom. 

“Hey, I thought you fell in.” Tony chuckled, seeing her walk into the kitchen. When he saw her face, he could tell something was wrong. She looked…scared? Not like she’d seen a ghost, but she was definitely not ok. "What’s wrong?" 

"My water broke." Ziva said it far too casually, as if it wasn’t a huge deal. 

"What?" Tony wasn’t she’d he’d heard her correctly. Her tone didn’t match the words that had come out of her mouth.

"When I stood up to go to the bathroom, I felt a pop and then liquid ran down my legs. After I went to the bathroom, the liquid did not stop. My water broke." Nettie had tuned into the conversation, ready to give her advice. 

"Ok. Ok, we’re doing this." Tony was trying to keep himself calm, because he knew that him freaking out would only make things worse. Unfortunately, internalizing the immense amount of panic he felt was not an easy feat. 

"We are not doing anything. I am the one who has to go through labor." Ziva really didn’t mean to come off as snarky, but she, too, was freaking out a little bit. Having a child, as normal as it is, is not the calmest endeavor. 

"Right, I’m sorry." He was trying to show her his support, but it seemed she might not care for it. He wouldn’t put it against, after all, she was about to deliver their child. 

"This is good news, Ziva. Have you felt any contractions? In the early stages, they feel closest to a strong period cramp." Nettie decided it was best to jump in, not wanting to listen to the couple start an argument. 

"I am not sure. I am having some lower back pain and some pressure in my pelvis. Is that normal?" Ziva hated the vulnerability that she was feeling, the uncertainty, but she really had no idea what to expect from labor. 

"Yes, those are both perfectly normal. If you don’t mind, I’d like to do a quick exam. The back pain is normal, yes, but it could also mean that the baby is posterior, meaning their spine is against your spine." Nettie didn’t want to alarm her, of course, but without the choice of receiving medical invention, as it was too dangerous, she wanted to keep everything as safe as possible. 

"Is that bad?" Tony asked, the panic quickly rising. 

"No, it is not bad. Posterior positioning, while not ideal, is normal and does not necessarily mean the labor and delivery will not go smoothly. With posterior position, it is typical to experience more back pain, ‘back labor’, as it’s typically called. Labor might last slightly longer, and it might be slightly more intense, especially in the later stages, but it is still perfectly normal." Nettie was trying to be as open and honest as possible, while also not scaring the soon-to-be parents. At the same time, she wanted them to understand the risks. She’d been a midwife for nearly forty years, but she’d spent some time out of the game. She needed them to understand that there were risks involved with a home delivery, especially if the baby was posterior. 

"Do the exam, Doda." Ziva said, walking back towards the bedroom. 

Nettie grabbed her bag from the living room and followed into the bedroom, Tony not far behind. Ziva laid down on the bed, and Tony stood next to her. He took her hand, and he decided to ignore the moment of hesitation she gave before relaxing her hand into his. 

Nettie worked quickly, luckily for Ziva. She tried to keep her face as neutral as possible, for the sake of the new parents, but her findings did have her a little worried. 

"The baby is posterior. It is perfectly ok and normal, but I do want to try to get the baby to turn. You’re only three centimeters dilated, and contractions haven’t really started yet, so there is time." Nettie had only delivered fifteen posterior babies, and eight of those deliveries had ended with complications. Five of the deliveries ended with a postpartum hemorrhage, with one resulting in a maternal fatality. It was safe to say that she would do everything in her power to keep Ziva and the baby as safe as possible. 

"I will do whatever you think will work." As scared as Ziva had suddenly found herself, she knew that her fear wouldn’t help either of them. Her baby needed her, and she would do everything in her power to keep them safe, even if that included keeping them safe during delivery.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 

“Ima, are you ok?" A six year old Ziva stood in front of her mother, watching as the elder David hunched over and grabbed her round stomach. Her mother had told her there was a baby in her stomach, but Ziva wasn’t too sure she believed that to be true. 

"Yes, Zivaleh. I am alright. I think the baby is coming." 

"Where is Abba?" Whether or not Ziva really believed a baby was in her mother’s stomach, Ziva knew that her mother was in pain. She wanted Abba to come home and help. 

"Abba is in Europe for work, motek. He will not be able to help us right now." Rivka had practically begged Eli to not take a work trip so close to her due date, but he’d brushed her off. He’d insisted nothing would happen while he was away. ‘The child will wait for their Abba’, he’d said. 

"What are we going to do, Ima?" Ziva was suddenly scared, although she tried not to show it. Ari was with his mother, Abba was at work, and her saba and savta were in Haifa. Ziva did not know what she was supposed to do. 

"We need to call your Doda Nettie, Ziva. She is going to come here and help deliver the baby." Rivka was determined to give birth ‘the old fashioned way.’ While she had gone to regular doctor’s visits throughout her pregnancy, she was adamant about delivering the baby at home, not at a hospital. 

Ziva walked over to the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart. Her Doda Nettie was one of her favorite people, and they talked often. She hoped her Doda knew how to help her Ima, because Ziva was helpless. 

Within a few hours, Doda had arrived, and the next several hours were a blur. Ziva had tried her best to stay in her room, but the sounds her Ima had made both scared Ziva and piqued her curiosity. Eventually, after her mother’s noises got louder and louder, a second source of noise took over. A shrill cry  filled the house, causing Ziva to emerge from her room. Had her Ima been telling the truth? There really was a baby? 

"Zivaleh, there you are. Come." Rivka ushered her daughter into the room, seeing the young child’s apprehension as she lingered in the doorway of her parents’ bedroom. 

"Are you in pain, Ima?" Ziva had been very concerned about her mother. 

"No, motek, not anymore. Birth is hard work, and yes, it is very painful, but it is worth it. Look, you have a sister." Zivaleh carefully climbed up onto the bed with her doda’s help. She sat beside Ima and stared at the whimpering little bundle nestled against her Ima’s bare chest. 

"Why is she so little?" Ziva did not understand. Every baby she’d ever met was much bigger than the one who Ima was holding. Much less pink and wet, too. What was wrong with this baby?

"She is only a few minutes old, Ziva. She is still very young and fresh. She will grow, in due time. You were this little once, too, motek. Actually, you were even smaller than her when you were born." Ziva had been born a few weeks early, likely due to the stress the new mother had. She was so anxious about becoming a mother that she’d accidentally sent herself into early labor. Ziva had only weighed six pounds at birth. This new baby weighed nearly eight. 

“What is her name, Ima?" Ziva was beginning to understand that her mother had been telling the truth; there had indeed been a baby in Ima’s stomach. As well, Ziva understood that this baby was her sister. She wasn’t really sure what to do with a sister, especially when she was so little, but she’d learn.

"Tali. Her name is Tali. You two are going to be best friends. You need to be a good big sister, Ziva. Protect her, teach her, play with her. Do you understand?" Suddenly, Ziva was filled with a sense of responsibility. Her mother had given her a task, and she knew she had to see to its completion.

“Yes, Ima." 

For the entirety of Tali’s life, Ziva had done her best to follow her mother’s instructions. In the end, even Ziva had failed to protect Tali. Tali was all alone, helpless, when she died. It was a fact that haunted Ziva every day.

"I do not think this is doing anything." Ziva groaned, trying to relieve the pressure in her back. Nettie had given Ziva various positions to try and turn the baby. In the first few hours, Ziva had been a willing participant. Now, nearly eight hours after her water had broken, Ziva was getting tired. 

"We can stop at any point, Ziva. Just say the word." Nettie, of course, knew that the position changes were not working. Surely the baby would be as stubborn as their mother. Ziva hadn’t said she’d wanted to stop, so Nettie kept encouraging Ziva to try new positions. 

"This baby is gonna be stubborn, just like their Ima." Tony was trying to lighten the mood, but it had not gone over well, based on the eye roll Ziva gave him. 

"Tony, can you get Ziva some more water?" Nettie asked, seeing her niece’s frustration with the father of her child. 

Tony wordlessly obliged Nettie’s request and walked out of the room. 

"Toda.” Ziva said, heaving out a sigh after Tony had left the room. 

"When I had Ezra, your uncle was unbearable. He was more of a mess than I was. I kicked him out of the room several times. I was almost ready to not let him back in until after Ezra was born, but I felt bad. With Chana, he was more calm." Nettie smiled as she reminisced on her past. Unfortunately, her husband had died when Chana was only five. Nettie raised her children on her own, and there were times she regretted never getting remarried, especially when her children were extra difficult. When Ziva had first told her about the pregnancy, Nettie had hoped Ziva would eventually build up the courage to tell Tony and allow him to be a part of their child’s life. 

"Tony jokes about everything. I do not know if he can take this seriously." Ziva was frustrated with him. He kept trying to lighten the mood to break the tension, but Ziva didn’t want him to. She wanted to stay focused. She wanted to live in the seriousness of the situation. They were having a baby, for crying out loud! 

"He means well, Zivaleh. I think he is trying to make you feel better, if not physically, then at least emotionally." Nettie understood Tony’s intentions, and she felt for him. She loved her niece, of course, but Ziva wasn’t exactly known for being open and honest and willing to allow anyone in. Tony was simply trying to get Ziva to let him in. 

"I just want to be alone for a while, Doda.” Ziva was in pain and vulnerable, and she hated it. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, and she didn’t know how else to voice that. She couldn’t run, because there was nowhere to run to, but maybe she could at least forbid anyone from being in the bedroom. 

"Ok, motek. I will leave you be. I will let Tony know, too. If you need anything, just let me know." With that, Nettie left the room, leaving Ziva lying in bed by herself. 

While Ziva labored on her own, the way she wanted it, a nervous wreck otherwise known as Tony DiNozzo paced around a nearby room. 

He was Anthony D. DiNozzo, for crying out loud! Why the hell was he so nervous? After Nettie had kicked him out of the room, he wandered around the house for a bit before landing on the small room close to the living room. It was small, clearly meant to be an office or a playroom or a nursery. Ziva had told him that Nettie was a midwife, so he knew she’d surely have equipment somewhere in her house. Apparently, she’d chosen that room. Bags of medical supplies were stacked in the alcove that Tony assumed was meant to be a closet. The ample amount of supplies made Tony feel slightly better about the whole situation, but it didn’t really curb his anxiety. As he looked around the room, he realized Nettie must’ve used it as a nursery for her own children. There was a small dresser, a hand-crafted crib, and a hand-upholstered rocking chair. He continued to pace for several minutes, only stopping when Nettie relayed Ziva’s desire to be alone. After a while, Tony finally tired and decided to sit down in the rocking chair. He rocked back and forth, trying to calm himself. He imagined rocking a newborn to sleep in the chair, and that image did calm his nerves slightly. A part of him couldn’t wait to hold their child, and another part thought their current situation was absolutely crazy, baby and all. 

Maybe I should tell Senior. That thought had gone through his head several times since he’d first found out Ziva was pregnant, but he hadn’t really started to entertain it until the last few weeks of the pregnancy. As the due date had approached, Tony felt increasingly guilty for not having told his father. He tried to rationalize it, telling himself that there were plenty of people who didn’t know about the baby. Unfortunately, that didn’t really work to ease the guilt, especially because there were plenty of people who did know about the baby, including Gibbs. 

"Junior! What a lovely surprise." A voice sounded from the other end of the phone. 

Tony looked down at his watch, realizing it was only 9 in the morning in New York. 

"Hi, dad." Tony honestly had no idea what he was supposed to say. 

“It’s been a while, Junior. I assume you’re not calling for no reason. What’s wrong?" Anthony DiNozzo Sr. knew his son didn’t call for no reason. They did not have the kind of relationship where it was normal to call simply to check in or to say ‘hi.’ Surely Tony was calling for a very specific reason. 

"You got me, dad. Honestly, I don’t really know where to start." There came that guilt again, nibbling at his insides. 

"Well, you can start with where you are. You’re calling with an international area code." Senior had been to enough countries to recognize international numbers. 

"I’m in Tel Aviv." Tony hadn’t even told his father about Ziva leaving the team, so he’d probably be confused as to why Tony was in Israel. 

"What's in Tel Aviv, other than some amazing falafel?"

"Ziva. Ziva and I are in Tel Aviv together." Tony knew his father had taken a liking to Ziva. He wondered what Senior would say. 

"Did you finally decide to stop skirting around the little ‘thing’ the two of you have?" You’d have to have been blind to not see the connection between Tony and Ziva. Senior had seen it the first time he’d met Ziva and seen his son interact with her. 

"Yeah, not exactly." Tony took in a deep breath, trying to gather all of his emotions. "About a year ago, Ziva left the team. She turned in her badge and left back to Israel. She didn’t tell any of us where she was going, and she made it pretty clear that she didn’t want to be found. I, of course, didn’t listen. I chased after her, and I spent a few months looking before I finally found her at her childhood home in Be’er Sheva, Israel. Her and I spent a little over a month there together, until she forced me to go back to DC. Fast forward about five months, I get a phone call from one of Ziva’s friends that she’s in the hospital. I hopped on a plane to Israel and found her in a hospital in Tel Aviv. She’d fallen and the blunt force trauma had caused her spleen to rupture. To make matters worse, she was 25 weeks pregnant…with our child." Tony held his breath at the last part, waiting for his father’s reaction. 

"So when is she due, Junior? Has she already had the baby? Am I a grandpa?" Sure, Senior would be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt that his son had waited so long to tell him this huge news, but there was no use in being angry. Aside from the prolonged waiting period, the news was amazing, and he couldn’t help but be excited. 

"She was actually due two days ago. Her water broke this morning. She’s in labor right now." Saying that out loud made all of the panic rise back up. Tony stood up from the rocking chair and started pacing again. 

"Why are you calling me now, Junior? I mean, shouldn’t you be with Ziva, holding her hand and feeding her ice chips?" That’s at least what he’d done when Junior had been born. 

"I can’t exactly give you a bunch of details, partially because I don’t have a bunch to give, but Ziva and I are being hunted. Her childhood home was blown up. We’re in Tel Aviv with her aunt, and our team is on their way. Ziva is too worried about the dangers of being at a public hospital, and her aunt was a midwife for decades, so she’s giving birth here. In true lone wolf fashion, Ziva is insistent that she can do everything all on her own. She’s kicked both of us out." 

"Ah, so you’re calling for advice?" Honestly, he was a little touched. He’d figured his son would call Gibbs for advice, not him. Gibbs had, after all, been more of a father to Tony than he had in the past several years. 

"I mean, no, not really. Well, maybe. Honestly, I don’t know why I called." Tony sighed, rubbing his free hand down his face. "I felt guilty about not telling you about the baby, and I’m kinda freaking out about becoming a father, and Gibbs is 30,000 miles above the Atlantic, and mom is dead, and I don’t know who else to talk to. I want to be strong for Ziva, because I know she has to feel alone, too, because all of her family is dead, but she won’t let me in. I keep trying and trying, and she keeps shutting me out. Obviously I can’t get mad at her, because she’s tired and in pain, but I don’t know what to do." He was rambling, and his nerves were getting the best of him, but he didn’t really care. 

"Son, I’ve found that all women might say they want to be left alone, but they really don’t, especially when they’re sad or in pain. When your mother was in labor with you, she kicked me out of the room five times. I gave her some space, sure, but I kept going back in. Although, I didn’t go empty-handed. I’d come back with water or flowers or ice chips. The last time, I came back with a cute little hat I’d found at the gift shop. She caved and burst into a puddle, crying about how much she’d missed me and how much she needed me. Give Ziva the space she wants, but then when you feel like it’s been long enough, find something to offer her and go back in. She doesn’t really know what she wants right now, and that’s to be expected. You have to make the decision for her. Make yourself her rock." Based on his son’s silence, Senior knew he’d hit the nail on the head. 

"Thanks, dad." Tony really did appreciate the advice. Maybe Senior hadn’t always been the best father, sure, but maybe, just maybe, he’d be a better grandfather. 

“Of course, Junior. Next time you’re in New York, or next time I’m in Israel, I’ll bring cigars. It is tradition, after all. Congratulations, son. Take care of them." With that, Senior hung up, leaving the soon-to-be father to mull over his father’s words. 

"Thanks, dad." Tony sighed into thin air, pulling his phone away from his ear and turning it off. He knew his dad was probably right, but what if he wasn’t? What if Ziva really did want to be alone? Would he push her even further away? Well, there was only one way to find out. 

Tony looked around the room, trying to think of what he could offer. Honestly, the room was pretty empty, aside from the furniture. The only thing that caught his eye was a small plush toy sitting in the crib. It was old, probably dirty, but it looked well-loved. It was a grey elephant. Tony assumed it had once belonged to Nettie’s children. Maybe it could find a new home with their child. Tony picked it up, along with the water he’d gotten for Ziva, and started back towards the bedroom. 

As he stood in front of the door, he found himself getting cold feet. Why was he so nervous? What was the worst thing Ziva could do to him? Kick him out again? He didn’t know why this was so hard. Taking a deep breath, Tony lifted his free hand to knock on the door. After a quiet “come in,” he slowly opened the door and made his way in. 

Ziva looked up from her place beside the bed, and felt a wave of relief wash over her. She’d likely never have sought him out on her own, because she was too proud and too preoccupied with her current situation, but she was very glad when he walked back into the bedroom. 

"I know you said you wanted to be alone, and I’ll leave if you want me to, but I thought maybe…” Tony trailed off, seeing the tears well up in her eyes. 

"I want you." Ziva squeaked out, closing her eyes and trying to take deep breaths as a contraction creeped up. 

Tony, seeing an opportunity to jump in, placed the water and toy on the nightstand and gently took her hand in his. Ziva, thankful for his hand, squeezed it as she progressed through the contraction. Once she was sure the contraction was over, she let go of his hand. 

"I know this might be a stupid question, but how’re you doing?" He’d been out of the room for nearly two hours, and he knew a lot could happen in that time. 

"I feel as though nothing is happening. I am still having contractions, yes, but they are not very regular. At times, they are three minutes apart, and then five, and then seven, and then two. They are only lasting about thirty seconds, and I am sure they are not as painful as they could be. I am exhausted, and I just want this to be over." Ziva hated how the tears fell from her eyes, but she couldn’t be bothered to put in more effort to stop them. She really was exhausted. 

"Do you want to try eating something? You haven’t eaten anything since last night, and even then you only picked at dinner." Tony knew labor was exhausting, of course, but he figured maybe she could keep up her energy if she ate something. 

Simply at the thought of food, Ziva gagged. She knew that nausea was common during labor, but she’d been trying to push it down. Unfortunately, she couldn’t put it off anymore. She quickly got up from her kneeling position beside the bed and rushed to the toilet. There was nothing to even throw up other than water, but the nausea was so overwhelming that she couldn’t stop heaving. 

Tony quickly followed after her and held her hair as she threw up. He felt bad for mentioning food. 

"I’m sorry." Tony gave, knowing his words would do nothing for her. 

Hearing Ziva’s heaves, Nettie quietly made her way back into the room and watched from afar. She wanted to give the couple space, of course, but she also needed to make sure Ziva was ok, all things considered. 

After a few minutes, the nausea had subsided slightly, and Ziva was able to lean back and catch her breath. Tony gently rubbed her back as she leaned against him, and he couldn’t help but think about how intimate the whole situation was. 

"How are you doing, Zivaleh?" Once Ziva had stopped throwing up, Nettie stepped into the bathroom to assess her niece. 

"I am exhausted, Doda, and I feel like this baby is never going to come." Ziva hated how whiny she sounded, but she really couldn’t muster up any other answer. 

"I promise you, Ziva, your baby will come. I know it feels like you’ve been in labor forever and will continue to be in labor forever, but it is only temporary." Nettie had heard the exact phrase from nearly every patient she’d ever had. She’d even said it herself when she gave birth to her first child. 

"Is there anything Ziva can do to speed things up?" Tony asked, seeing how miserable Ziva was. 

"How about we try going for a walk?" Movement, in Nettie’s experience, generally helped labor progress. As well, Nettie was sure Ziva could use a change of scenery. 

"No, it is not safe." As much as Ziva would love to take a walk and get some fresh air, she couldn’t risk being so exposed. Nettie lived in a fairly secluded area of Tel Aviv, but  one could only be so secluded in a big city. Ziva didn’t want to risk being out in public, even if it was just around the neighborhood. 

"Not even in the yard?" Nettie understood Ziva’s apprehension, but she really did think a walk could help Ziva achieve the progress she was looking for. 

"I’ve got my gun, Ziva. We can just stay in the fenced-in yard. It’ll be ok." Tony could see Nettie’s insistence, so he tried to help. 

Ziva gave it some thought, and after going through another contraction, she agreed. 

"I called my dad. Finally." Tony said, about thirty minutes into their walk. The tension was still pretty thick, as it should be, and Tony couldn’t stand the silence anymore. 

"How did he react?" Ziva had encouraged him to call his father many times, but he’d always refused. She was curious to hear how Senior had reacted to news of becoming a grandpa. 

"He handled it surprisingly well. He was very supportive, and he actually gave me some good advice. I mean, I thought Gibbs was the go-to for useful advice, but maybe I’ve been underestimating my father." When this whole mess was over, and they could get back to the States, Tony wanted to visit his father. 

"Perhaps he will be a good grandpa. He will be our child’s only living biological grandparent." That fact made Ziva sadder than she’d expected. As the birth grew closer, she thought more about her mother and, by association, her father. Of course, Ziva missed her mother. Her mother had been kind and loving and caring, and she’d been the best mother Ziva could’ve ever asked for. Her father, on the other hand, had, well, he’d been none of those things. Nonetheless, Ziva missed him. She wished their child had been given the chance to meet their grandparents. It was just another short straw their child had drawn before they were even born. 

"Yes, but what our child lacks in biological family, they gain in found family. Grandpa Gibbs, Uncle McGoo, Auntie Abbs, GrandDucky, and Uncle Autopsy Gremlin. Our child will never be able to say that they aren’t loved. Plus, they will have the best mother ever and a father who tries his best." Tony flashed her a bright smile, trying to cheer her up. 

"You are right." Ziva nods, stopping in her tracks as she felt another contraction creep up. Tony held out his arms, and she happily walked into them. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she wrapped hers around his neck and pulled slightly for leverage. When the contraction was over, she let go and kept walking, and the same cycle continued for nearly an hour. 

"Are you ok to keep walking, or do you want to go back in? Gibbs called me earlier, but I didn’t answer it. Are you good if I go call him?" Tony didn’t want to leave her alone, especially outside, but he was also desperate for their backup to arrive. 

"I am ok out here. Go call Gibbs." Nettie was lingering back on the porch, keeping a watchful eye over Ziva. Ziva felt safe enough, even if Tony went back inside. 

"Boss, please tell me you’re in Israel." Tony said through the phone. 

"Yeah, we touched down a few minutes ago. We’ll be there ASAP. How is Ziva?" Gibbs had had a gut feeling that the baby wouldn’t wait much longer, especially given how impatient their mother was. 

"Her water broke this morning. She’s doing ok right now, but things are moving a little slower than she would like. Our baby is just as stubborn as their Ima." Tony chuckled slightly, trying to force himself to calm down. 

"Are you at the hospital?" Gibbs couldn’t hear any hustle and bustle of a hospital in the background, but maybe Tony had found a quiet place. 

"No, we’re at Ziva’s aunt’s house. Ziva is insistent on a home birth, because she doesn’t want to risk being found. Her aunt used to be a midwife, so Ziva and the baby are as safe as can be, all things considered." Tony figured maybe the more times he said Ziva was having a home birth, the more comfortable with it he would feel. In all honesty, he was terrified something would go wrong, and the hospital would be too far away. 

"Trust her, Tony. She knows what she’s doing." Of course Gibbs could sense Tony’s apprehension. If he was in Tony’s shoes, he’d probably feel the same way. Fortunately, he was an outsider looking in, and he didn’t have to worry too much about the possible repercussions of a home birth. 

"I know she does, Boss. God, I trust her with my life, and of course I trust her to keep our child safe. I just don’t want anything to happen to either of them, and I just want to be able to keep them as safe as possible." Tony hated how whiny he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. He felt very strongly about their current situation. 

"DiNozzo, part of keeping them safe is letting Ziva feel as comfortable as possible. She will be on edge the entire time at a hospital. She’ll be completely out in the open and uncovered. If she doesn’t feel safe, she won’t be able to bring your child into that situation, which could be dangerous for both of them. Just trust her and make the best of your situation. We will be there ASAP." With that, Gibbs hung up, leaving Tony to, yet again, mull over his words.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 

“You’re doing so good, Ziva. You’re almost done. Our baby’s almost here." Tony said soothingly, squeezing her hand to provide a bit of counter pressure and a distraction from the intense pain he was sure she was feeling. 

"I can’t do it, Tony." Ziva shook her head, refusing to continue pushing. Maybe if she stopped trying, it would all just stop. Nothing mattered anymore anyway. 

Ziva had labored for nearly 48 hours, and she was exhausted. She kept going, because she knew that a beautiful baby would be waiting for her on the other side. 

Nettie had insisted that Ziva was safe, and the baby had still been very active and had a strong heartbeat. Until, they didn’t. Within 30 minutes, the baby’s heartbeat had gone from strong and active to nonexistent. Nettie had no explanation to give, and it broke her heart to watch the parents sob in each others’ arms. 

Unfortunately, the labor didn’t stop just because the baby was dead. Ziva continued to progress, and eventually she felt her body start to push. She couldn’t stop it, and she hated that fact. She was about to come face to face with the fact that the baby she’d fought so hard to keep alive was dead, and there was likely nothing that anyone could have done. 

"Ziva, you can. You can do this. I know this is probably the hardest thing you’ve ever done or will ever do, and I know that it seems like it’s not ever worth it, but you can do this. Our baby deserves to be held and kissed and loved on. They deserve that much, Ziva. You can do this." Tony hated that Ziva had to do this. In all honesty, he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to meet his child. It wasn’t fair. And yes, of course he knew life notoriously wasn’t fair, but what kind of sick, cruel joke was the universe trying to play? 

And suddenly, seemingly without even trying, the baby was born, and Tony and Ziva’s lives had changed forever. 

He was so beautiful. He was the most beautiful baby they’d ever seen. He had Tony’s nose and eyes, Ziva’s face, light brown, curly hair, and olive skin. He was so beautiful. He looked like a doll. 

Tony marveled at him, his face showing a mixture of adoration and pain. Tony had a son. They had a son, a beautiful baby boy. 

"He needs a name." The last thing he wanted to do was pretend like their son wasn’t dead, but some things transcended death. Their son needed a name, living or dead. 

"Issac Daniel." Ziva said, an air of finality in her voice. 

"Yeah, that’s perfect." Tony really couldn’t say anything else, too scared the emotions would take over. 

For the next few hours, the two of them just sat in the bed, staring down at their son. Mourning, marveling, wondering all of the what-ifs. It wasn’t fair. 

"Ziva. Ziva, wake up." Tony’s voice brought her back to reality. Tony hated to wake here, especially because he knew she was physically and mentally exhausted. Unfortunately, the contractions had stalled, and it had become easier for Ziva to get some rest. After an hour of sleep, though, Nettie had advised Tony that it was best to wake Ziva up again and try to restart the contractions. 

Ziva groaned, slowly waking up and regathering her surroundings. 

"Zivaleh, I would like to get you up and active again. The contractions have stalled out, which is normal, especially because this is your first labor, but they need to start again. It is safe to go over 24 hours with your water broken, especially because you tested negative for Group B strep, and you aren’t having any symptoms of infection. However, the less time you spend in labor after your water has broken, the better. Would you like to try walking again?" Nettie knew that Ziva was exhausted, of course she did, but she also knew that Ziva would only ‘feel better’ after the baby came. 

"Can you check how dilated I am? I feel like I am doing so much work and getting very little reward." Ziva hated how whiny she sounded, yet again, but she figured it was just par for the course. 

"I think that is a good idea. We can also check the baby's heart rate and make sure they’re still perfectly well." Ziva nodded, rolling over onto her back and letting Nettie do what she needed to do. 

When Nettie was done, she confirmed what Ziva had feared, barely any progress had been made. Ziva had only dilated to five centimeters, and the baby was still sitting very high, meaning there were no real signs of imminent birth. Luckily, the baby was still doing perfectly, in that their heart rate was strong. They seemed perfectly content to stay put, and Ziva couldn’t help but feel like her body was failing her. 

"Maybe we should think about going to a hospital? I mean, the team is en route, and I have no doubt that Gibbs would personally escort us to the hospital." Tony didn’t want to make her feel like he was pressuring her, but he was very worried that things could take a turn for the worse very soon. 

Ziva simply scowled at him, riding the wave through another contraction. Just based on her look, he could tell she was not even going to entertain his question.

"Tony, this is perfectly normal. Ziva and the baby are both fine. At this moment, I do not see a reason for Ziva to need a hospital." Nettie was trying to reassure both parents-to-be, while also still advocating for her niece’s wishes. 

"Ok, I’m sorry." Tony took in a deep breath, understanding that his concerns were not shared, and he should just keep them to himself. 

Tony was going to continue to try and comfort her when he heard a knock on the front door. He immediately grabbed the gun from his waistband and slowly made his way out of the room. He closed the door behind him, trying to keep his family as safe as possible. Once he made it to the door, he heaved a sigh of relief when he realized Gibbs and the team were at the door. 

"Gibbs, you almost got yourself shot. Why didn’t you call ahead?" Tony asked, opening the door to see Gibbs, McGee, Bishop, and a new face he didn’t recognize. 

"Didn’t want to risk it. They might have tapped your phone. We can’t be too careful." Gibbs shrugged, giving off his usual aloof tone. 

"Well, either way, I’m glad you’re here." Tony stepped aside, letting the team in. He did a quick sweep of the perimeter and hastily shut the door and locked it. "I see it didn’t take you very long to replace me, Boss." Tony joked, eyeing the new guy who was standing behind Bishop. 

"Nick Torres." Nick introduced, stepping forward and shaking Tony’s hand. 

"Anthony DiNozzo, but you can call me Tony. You must be pretty good if you’re filling my giant shoes." Tony was sizing him up, and he was sure Nick would give it right back. 

"Oh, my own shoes are plenty big." Both McGee and Bishop had to resist the urge to roll their eyes. Gibbs, though, gave in to impulse and gave Tony a smack on the back of the head, for old time’s sake. 

"DiNozzo, knock it off. Just tell us what we need to know so we can help you." Gibbs wasn’t putting up with any of Tony’s bullshit. 

"A little less than a week ago, Ziva and I were woken up to a barrage of bullets through her family’s farmhouse. We were able to get out and get to the car, but as we drove away, the house was blown up by an RPG." Saying it out loud was weird. It felt so matter-of-fact, and he tried not to put any emotion into his words, but it was hard. That house represented so much to him and Ziva. It was the place where they’d conceived their child, and it was supposed to be the place where they gave their child the life they’d never had. 

"Do you have any idea who could be after you guys?" Bishop asked, her wheels already turning as she took a seat on the floor and used the coffee table as a stand for her laptop. 

"We have ideas, but nothing concrete." The first night after they’d made it to Nettie’s house, he and Ziva discussed, at length, exactly who could be after them. There were certainly strong contenders, but there was no real evidence to suggest anyone in particular. 

"Who?" Gibbs asked, not wanting to waste more time.

"Trent Kort." Ah, yes, the elusive one-eyed CIA agent-gone-rogue. Of course, the team knew they weren’t done with Kort, but maybe they’d let their guards down too much. 

"Alright, let’s get to work." Gibbs barked, watching his team spring into action. 

"Ok, what should I do, Boss?" Tony felt utterly helpless with Ziva, but at least he knew how to do this job. He could hunt down a suspect in his sleep. 

"I’m not your boss anymore, Tony.” Tony frowned at that comment, realizing Gibbs was right. 

"Right, Gibbs. I forgot." Tony knew that once he set eyes on his child, he wouldn’t regret giving up the badge, but, because of how in-his-face his old life was, and the baby had yet to make an appearance, he was missing the badge. 

"Your job, DiNozzo, is to be there for Ziva. I know she’ll tell you she can do it by herself, because she was raised to be fiercely independent, but she needs you. Your kid needs you." Seeing Tony’s hesitation as the father-to-be looked towards the bedroom Ziva was in, Gibbs reiterated. "Go, DiNozzo."

Go he went. Tony walked back down the hall and quickly made his way back into the bedroom. Ziva had moved from the bed and onto a big, blue yoga ball. She was gently rolling her hips in a circular motion, humming slightly. 

"The team’s here." Tony announced quietly, not quite sure what he should do or say to make Ziva more comfortable. This whole situation had him feeling completely clueless. 

"I don’t want them so close. Take them to the furthest room in the house and close the door." Ziva was feeling extremely vulnerable already, and she didn’t like the fact that they were only out in the living room, with a door and a short hallway between them. Ziva knew that as her labor progressed, it would become harder and harder to keep herself quiet. She didn’t want the team to hear her giving birth. 

Tony thought about it for a second, and then quickly obliged, going back into the living room and escorting the team to the office on the opposite side of the house. 

When he walked back to the bedroom, he found Ziva in the same position as before, but now Nettie was running a bath. 

"Going for a dip, Ziva?” There was that typical DiNozzo defense mechanism again: use humor as a way to displace any uncomfortable feelings. 

"I am not in the mood for jokes. Tony." Ziva said exasperatedly, stripping down to just her underwear and a sports bra and walking towards the bathroom. 

Tony didn’t attempt any more humor as he slowly trailed her into the bathroom. He sat down on the floor next to the tub, hesitantly placing a hand on her lower back and rubbing up and down. Tony was going to stop when he didn’t get approval from her, but as a contraction started, she seemed to lean closer toward his hand, so he carefully pressed a little harder. He was trying to create some counter-pressure, something he’d read could be helpful during labor. 

This cycle continued for a while, Ziva would go through contractions, and Tony would continue to offer counter-pressure. Every so often, Ziva would offer a critique to his technique, and he would correct, but the majority of an hour and a half was spent in silence. Tony wasn’t exactly comfortable with the silence, and he would give anything to fill it, but he knew that his feelings really didn’t matter, given the situation. 

After nearly two hours, Tony was pretty sure the water had gone cold, but he wouldn’t dare suggest she get out. She’d get out when she was ready. Besides, once he heard the distinct sniffles and catches in her breath, the temperature of the water was the least of his concern. 

"I wish my Ima was here." Ziva said, hating how squeaky her voice sounded as she desperately tried to wipe the tears away. Once they had started, though, it seemed impossible to get them to stop. 

"Oh, Ziva." Tony had no words. He couldn’t offer her any comfort, because he knew there was nothing anyone could say or do to make the pain of missing a parent go away. Even though he’d only known his mother for less than a decade, he still missed her everyday. The longing for her had only grown since he’d learned of his impending fatherhood. He couldn’t imagine how difficult this all was for Ziva to do without her mother. 

"It is stupid. She has been gone for so long, and I have gone through so many big life events without her. I know that I do not need her, but…" Ziva’s words trailed off, not able to find what else she wanted to say. 

"But you want her." Ziva simply nodded, knowing that Tony understood. 

"I know that we will give our child everything we can. I just wish we could give them grandparents. At least, more than just your father and Gibbs." Ziva heaved a sigh, preparing herself as another contraction creeped up.

"Would you like to get out, Ziva? I can run another bath, but the water has to be ice cold by now." Nettie stepped into the bathroom, bursting the little bubble the couple had sat in for nearly two hours. 

Ziva nodded, carefully standing up and grabbing onto Tony’s waiting hands as she stepped out of the tub. Nettie handed Ziva a towel and worked on draining the tub and cleaning up the bathroom as Tony and Ziva walked back into the bedroom. 

"Did the bath help at all?" Tony asked, staring at Ziva as she paced back and forth in front of the bed. 

"Not really. My back still feels like it is being broken every time I have a contraction. Now, I feel like her head is splitting my pelvis in half." Ziva didn’t catch her slip up, because giving their baby a gender felt so natural. 

"Her?" Tony smirked at Ziva’s slip up, loving how she wanted a girl just as much as he did. 

"Just a feeling. At this rate, we will never find out this baby’s gender." Ziva rolled her eyes, leaning against the wall as she went through another contraction. 

"Just breathe, Ziva." Tony encouraged, hearing a pained moan escape Ziva’s mouth as she rode through a particularly painful contraction. Ziva shook her head, wordlessly telling him to shut up. She’d found that the silence while she was in the bathtub had actually helped her focus through the contractions. She didn’t want him to speak to her or at all. She really didn’t want any noise as she progressed through contractions. 

"Please do not talk during a contraction. Just rub my back and provide counter-pressure." Ziva commanded, relaxing slightly as the contraction passed and she resumed pacing. 

"Do you want more water? I’m gonna go get some and check on the team." Ziva nodded, watching him walk out of the room. 

"How are you doing, Zivaleh? Do you feel like you’ve made more progress?" Nettie asked, walking back into the bedroom and helping Ziva back into a pair of pants. 

"The contractions are stronger, and the baby feels lower, but I still feel like this is moving too slowly." Ziva sighed, plopping herself back onto the yoga ball. 

"Patience was never your strong suit, Zivaleh. I still remember when you were five years old, and your mother and I took you to a little bakery in Tel Aviv. Right before we walked in, the last chocolate rugelach had been taken. Those were your favorite pastries, and you were so upset. Not wanting you to cry, the baker promised to give you all you could eat once they were out of the oven. You stared at that oven for nearly an hour, just waiting for them to be done. You asked, ‘are they done yet,’ nearly every 30 seconds. When they were finally done, you shoved three into your mouth before the baker could even put them in the box. You burned your mouth so badly that you couldn’t taste anything normally for almost a week." Nettie smiled, fondly remembering her niece when the innocence hadn’t been destroyed yet. Sometimes, on very rare occasions, Nettie could still see that innocent little girl, but the innocence was always overshadowed by the demons constantly gnawing at her. 

"I still love chocolate rugelach. I craved them non-stop during my second trimester." Ziva smiled, liking the distraction that Nettie was giving her. 

"Well, when you bring this little one into the world, I’ll make you all the rugelach you want." Ziva nodded, taking in a deep breath as she braced for another contraction. 

Soon enough, night fell, and Ziva became increasingly more anxious. Nettie had said that it would be safe to go over 24 hours with her water broken, but Ziva wasn’t too sure. When she’d had the last appointment with her doctor, she’d told Ziva that it was her personal policy to intervene, likely with a c-section, after 30 hours. Everything was happening far too slowly. By six in the morning, Ziva had only progressed to seven centimeters. 

"Please make it stop." Ziva groaned, her voice muffled as she shoved her face into the bed, willing the contractions to let up. Of course, she knew the contractions were going to continue to intensify until she gave birth, but that knowledge didn’t stop her from practically begging anyone that would listen for this to be over. 

Tony stayed quiet, knowing she wasn’t talking to him. Instead, he just continued offering her counter-pressure and occasional sips of water. 

"It will be over soon enough, Ziva. Just keep going." Nettie encouraged, knowing her words had little effect. 

"Shut up." Ziva commanded through gritted teeth, signaling she wanted complete silence. 

Nettie nodded, understanding and respecting Ziva’s request. 

Silence continued to ensue in the room for over an hour, until there was a knock at the bedroom door. Tony wanted to ask if he should open the door, but Ziva was in the middle of a contraction, so he decided against it. Instead, he opened the door just slightly and saw Gibbs standing on the other side. 

"What’s up, Boss? I’m kinda busy." Tony didn’t want to be rude, but he was simply taking Gibbs’ advice to be there for Ziva. 

"We found Kort. He’s here, in Israel. We need to get you two to a Mossad safe house." Gibbs had his ‘I mean business face’ on, so Tony knew he was serious. 

"Gibbs, we can’t move Ziva right now. Plus, we need Ziva’s aunt. She’s a midwife. I know you’ve delivered a baby before, but, no offense, I don’t really want you to deliver our baby." Tony knew that Ziva wouldn’t want to move. She’d been so adamant about having their baby at Nettie’s house. There was no chance in hell that she would agree to travel all the way to some Mossad safe house in the middle of nowhere. 

"Tony, if Gibbs is saying we need to leave, then we need to leave." Ziva said, carefully standing up from the yoga ball and starting to get her things together. 

"Ziva, you can’t be serious." Tony couldn’t believe his ears. 

"You can stay here, Tony, but Nettie and I are leaving." Ziva’s stern voice and sharp, laser focus proved to Tony that she was not going to budge on her decision. 

"Ok. Nettie, what should we bring with us?" Tony asked, ready to jump right in and grab the things Nettie needed to assist Ziva giving birth. 

Within 30 minutes, Ziva, Tony, Nettie, and Gibbs were all piled into one car, headed for the safe house. McGee, Bishop, and Torres were following closely behind, making sure they weren’t getting tailed. 

"Tony, I cannot sit down." Ziva’s stern voice said firmly, moving to lean across the back of the seat. It felt like her lower half was on fire every time she went through a contraction. The pressure was getting worse, and she could tell the baby was getting lower and lower. When Gibbs had first urged them to leave, she’d been wholly on board. Now, the thought of riding in the car for an unknown amount of time seemed awful. 

"Ok. Gibbs, please drive carefully." Tony said, holding onto Ziva’s hand and giving a squeeze. 

After an hour in the car, having contractions every two minutes, the contractions started to feel different. They started coming faster and lasting longer, and the pressure was beginning to become unbearable. Ziva knew that she was close to the end, and as relieved as she was, she was also terrified. Giving birth in a car in the middle of nowhere wasn’t exactly what she’d had in mind. 

"Ziva, tell me what you are feeling.” Nettie commanded, sensing the change, even though Ziva was trying to stay as quiet as possible. 

"Pressure." It was the only word she could force out as she braced for another contraction. There was practically no break in between them anymore. 

"Ok, Zivaleh, listen carefully. If I had to guess, I’d say you are fully dilated. The pressure you’re feeling is your baby’s head. When you start feeling the urge to push, which you will soon, I want you to just let your body do it. Do not try to push, but do not try not to push or fight against the urge. I have delivered a baby in the car before, and if that has to happen, it will be ok." Nettie was trying to be as clear as possible, while also trying to keep everyone as calm as possible. 

"Gibbs, forget what I said. I need you to step on it." Tony commanded, his voice wavering slightly as he felt the vice-like grip Ziva had on his hand. 

"We’re about 10 minutes out. I’ll get us there ASAP." 

Ten minutes felt like an eternity to Ziva. About two minutes after Nettie had explained her belief that Ziva was fully dilated, Ziva began to feel the sensation Nettie had mentioned. The remaining eight minutes of the car ride were a complete out-of-body experience. Ziva could feel her body pushing, and while she wasn’t trying to stop it, she also had no real control. By the time they finally got to the safe house and pulled into the garage, Ziva was sure that she couldn’t stand. The pressure was far too great, and she felt like she had a bowling ball between her legs. 

"I cannot walk." Ziva groaned, trying to force out words as her body continued to push. 

"Tony, can you carry her?" Nettie asked, not completely sure of what else to do. Even if the safe house happened to have a wheelchair, Nettie was sure Ziva would be unable to sit down. 

Without hesitation, Tony picked her up in a cradle-style hold, ignoring the way his arm protested, working in ways it hadn’t since before the car crash. 

"Oh my god." Ziva gasped, squeezing as tight as she could to Tony, willing her body to stop pushing until she was safely on the ground. 

"Just place her on the bed." Nettie commanded, walking in ahead of everyone else and spotting a bedroom door ajar. Luckily, Nettie had picked the primary bedroom, so there was an en-suite. 

Tony gently set her down and watched as she quickly flipped from her back to all fours, taking in deep, calming breaths. Tony pulled a nearby chair closer to the bed and sat down, taking her hand in his and giving a reassuring squeeze. 

"Just listen to your body, Ziva. I will be right back." The panic Ziva felt was tangible as Nettie walked out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Tony and Ziva by themselves. 

"You’re doing amazing, Ziva." Tony whispered into her ear, trying to make her as calm as possible. 

Ziva vigorously shook her head, trying to tell him that she thought the exact opposite. She felt like she was drowning. She couldn’t seem to get enough air, no matter how hard she tried. Every contraction, every pain, felt unbearable. She’d gone past the point of no return, but she wished more than anything that she could go back and never let this happen in the first place. 

"Do you want counter-pressure again?" Tony could see that she was fighting every feeling, and he was desperate to help her in any way he could. 

Ziva only gave a groan in response, which soon turned into a very guttural noise, one Tony had never heard come out of Ziva. Ziva’s grip tightened on Tony’s hand, if that was even possible, and he soon realized she was pushing. Tony quickly sprang into action, pulling down the pants that had yet to be taken off, and assessing the situation. If he was being honest, he felt like he was going to pass out, but he knew he’d be of no use to anyone if that happened. 

What he saw astounded him, and it definitely made the world spin a little. When Ziva pushed, he could see what he believed to be the very top of their baby’s head. This was really real, and it was really happening now. 

"Nettie!" Tony yelled out, hoping she was within a close enough distance to hear him. He really didn’t want to have to deliver their baby. It wasn’t exactly a bucket list item of his. 

Luckily, within a few seconds, Nettie burst back into the room, carrying the supplies from the car. She quickly placed everything down and began to assess the situation in front of her. 

"Tony, just stay right there with her. You’re both doing amazingly well. I just need to set a few things up, just in case, and then we’ll be ready to go." Nettie pulled out a pair of sterile gloves and began unwrapping the sterile packages in front of her onto a nearby table. Forceps, scissors, scalpels, clamps, and a bunch of other instruments Tony had no idea what they were called or what they were used for. Once Nettie was finished, she discarded the gloves, quickly donned another pair, grabbed some gauze and a blanket, and walked over to Ziva. 

Nettie gave a few commands to Ziva in Hebrew, none of which Tony understood, but Ziva seemed to be receptive to. 

"Why don’t you go stand by her head and give her whatever support she needs?" Nettie could see the color change in his face, and she really didn’t need three patients. 

Tony did as was suggested and stood by her head, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement. He wasn’t sure if this was really the support Ziva needed, but she didn’t try to stop him, so he continued. 

Nettie continued giving gentle commands in Hebrew, and Tony continued to be completely oblivious to what was being said. He knew that Ziva would respond best to her native language, especially with as vulnerable and wholly drained as she was, but he also couldn’t help but wish he could understand what was being said. More so than a lack of understanding of what was being said, Tony was astounded by how calm Ziva seemed. She was barely making any noise, save for the deep breaths, and she didn’t seem especially tense. He knew she was in a lot of pain, but no one else could really tell just by looking at her. If Tony hadn’t known any better, he’d have said she’d done this before. 

"Good job, Ziva. You’re crowning now, so go as slowly as possible. I do have the equipment to handle a tear, but it would be really nice if you didn’t tear." Nettie switched back to English, mostly for Tony’s sake. She knew he was curious about what was happening. 

"Our baby’s almost here, Ziva." Tony said, trying to convey his excitement within the confines of his calm tone. 

In response, Ziva let out a few whimpers, curling her hand even more firmly around Tony’s, trying to work through the intense pain she was feeling. 

"I know, Ziva. This is the worst part. In English, this part is called the ‘Ring of Fire’. The largest part of the baby’s head is coming through, and it creates a burning sensation. Just breathe. It’ll be over before you know it." Nettie reassured, trying to provide Ziva with calm, supportive energy, while also still explaining exactly what was happening. 

Making a bold move, Tony carefully leaned over from his current position at Ziva’s head and snuck a quick peek at their baby. From what he could tell, the baby had a head full of chocolate brown hair. If their Ima was any indication, they’d have a head full of curls. 

"Our baby has a head full of hair.” Tony said quietly, trying to encourage Ziva to keep going. 

Ziva nodded, conveying she heard him, before going back into the zone, a contraction creeping its way up on her. She went as slowly as possibly, giving small successive pushes, trying to get herself away from the intense burning pain. In one final push, the baby’s head was out. While still in pain, Ziva felt like she could breathe again. She took in and let out a few deep breaths, trying to calm her body and prepare to deliver the rest of the baby. 

"Well done, Ziva. The head is completely out. From what I can tell, the baby never ended up turning. Normally, in a baby positioned the ideal way, their head would be facing upward if you were on your hands and knees. Right now, the baby is facing downward. Most people say delivering a posterior baby is harder and more painful, so good job." Nettie couldn’t see it, of course, but Ziva gave a relieved smile in response. "The next bit, the shoulders, can be a little tricky. What might be easiest is if you flip over onto your back. If the shoulders get stuck, this is the best position to do a specific maneuver to help ease the baby out. As well, we can put the baby right onto your chest immediately after delivery." After giving Nettie’s suggestion a minute of thought, Ziva, with Tony and Nettie’s help, carefully flipped over onto her back. 

With only a few more pushes, Tony and Ziva’s entire world changed. 

At 12:13pm, a screaming baby made its way into the world. Immediately, just as Nettie had said, the baby was placed onto Ziva’s now bare chest. Ziva felt like she was on cloud nine as she stared down at the screaming baby, knowing and being able to understand that that baby was her baby. Their baby. 

"It’s a girl!" Ziva cried, tears freely falling down her face as she admired the newborn. 

Standing beside her, Tony just as freely let tears fall, looking at the two most important people in his world with complete awe. He couldn’t believe their baby was finally here. Alive. Real. Theirs forever.