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They stayed in silence for a long time, the warm dim light from the single light bulb in Gibbs' basement was the only light source in the midnight. Everything was so quiet and the only thing heard was their breathing. It had been a long day.
In silence, Ziva sat on the workbench still in work clothes from this morning, holding the mason jar of bourbon she was offered in her hands as she stared at the liquid like it was the most interesting object in the world. Gibbs on the other hand simply stared at her with a jar of his own, waiting for her to start the conversation and tell him the reason why she came tonight as he leaned against the table by the wall.
The trained assassin was hesitant to say anything as racing thoughts went through her mind, wondering over and over again why she came to Gibbs tonight. Should she or should she not confide in the father figure about the things that were bothering her, that were keeping her up every night in bed?
Gibbs had stopped working the moment Ziva walked down the steps to the basement, concerned for his little girl since she usually was so reserved and rarely came to him unless it was something very important. "Ziver." He said in a calm, low voice, prompting her to say something, anything so he could help her with whatever was bothering her.
But it didn't work as she mindlessly started spinning the mason jar in her hands around and around and around, fidgeting with it. She was having trouble voicing her problems out loud, to form words to convert her feelings. She was unfocused as her mind wandered without aim.
"Don't worry, take it slow, I won't judge." He assured her the best he could to get her to trust him. He had all night and he wasn't going anywhere. He knew the girl had a rough couple of days, little unfortunate things piled up and everything was not going her way. "What's troubling ya?"
Ziva sighed heavily and rubbed her face harshly with one hand. She was frustrated, she just wanted to bang her head against the wall to relieve some of the distressing emotion, she was not having a good time at all. Something was wrong, but she didn't know what was wrong. "I guess... I am just not feeling great." She finally said after so long as she shrugged her shoulders idly.
"Hey," The father figure said gently and Ziva looked up into his warm blue eyes ever so calming. "Everything's okay." He tried to reassure her in a comforting tone. "It's just a bad day." But the reaction he got puzzled him.
Suddenly, she broke out into a smile and laughed a humorless laugh, almost painfully. "People have a bad day," Then she sneered seriously "I have a bad life." She took a sip from the mason jar filled with amber liquid.
"How's that?" Gibbs questioned, urging the Ex-Mossad officer to continue as his brows furrowed, he too taking a sip of bourbon in his jar, intrigued about where this conversation was going.
"People have a bad day: Spilt coffee, rainy weather, bad hair day... Little insignificant things that ruin their mood for the day; I have a bad life: Everything I do is to follow orders and I never get a say in which way my life goes. I guess I am an obedient soldier blindly obeying what others want, I monitor other's feelings, and I fit into everyone else's needs." She downed the remaining alcohol in the jar in one go and slammed it down on the bench beside her after ranting her long speech.
"That's an interesting analogy." He took a deep breath and nodded slowly, trying to understand where she was coming from. "Why do you think that is?" He asked to comprehend deeply what Ziva meant in her rant.
"All I ever did, everything was to please my father but he never acknowledged anything or all the hard work I put in for him and still, he wants more from me, it is never enough." She started to explain.
"Since I was a little kid, he trained me with brutal force and cold, harsh words and he thrived on that fear resulting from it. I could never escape his grasp, he always had control over me and I repressed my feelings in fear of him hurting me back, I was terrified and I can still feel the fear." She took a deep breath to steady her voice then continued. "And now, I never know how I am feeling, I do not even know if I have feelings anymore."
"You have feelings Ziver," Gibbs replied simply, even though he didn't know how to answer and comfort her. "You are an emotionally driven person." He tried to reassure her in a soft voice.
"No, that is not the point." She shook her head and put a finger up. "The point is that I realize now how fucking miserable my whole entire life is." Her voice started to waver, thinking about all the horrible things in her childhood, it wasn't her fault that it was so miserable.
Gibbs could hear the emotions seeping through her words even though she tried hard to suppress them. "You could make a change in your life, something to make you happier." He suggested, he didn't know what he was trying to say but he was hoping he was saying the right things that his little girl wanted to hear from him. "It could get better."
She said forcefully as she jutted her finger into her chest. "I can not, I am stuck." Then she sighed in defeat and shook her head. "I can not do anything to make things better. I can not even feel anything that is remotely content."
Gibbs thought for a while as he put down his mason jar. She was definitely having a midlife crisis. His brows furrowed. "Are you saying that you're depressed? Because that sounds like symptoms of depression-"
"No! Absolutely not!" The trained assassin almost yelled, immediately cutting off his thought process, she did not want to be labeled as a problem, she was a strong trained assassin. Her breath shuddered and she whispered this time. "No..."
"Okay." He backed off as he held up both hands in surrender, he was ready to listen to whatever was bothering her so he could try to help her. And silence shrouded them once again under the dim light of the basement.
"I am saying that... he hurt me." She said the last few words so quietly that her voice dropped off into barely a whisper like she didn't want it to be true and if she said it any louder it might mean that it truly admitted happened, it might make it real. "He abused me, physically, mentally, emotionally..."
"He?" Gibbs repeated. "As in your father?" He confirmed but wasn't surprised at all, he knew from the start that her father, the Deputy Director of Mossad, was a cruel, heartless man. He let her continue on.
"Yes..." Ziva replied reluctantly. "He berated me and treated me like an insignificant piece of shit. He always treated my brother better than he did me, my brother became their perfect little soldier, literally. And I became a failure, he punished me for what I did or did not do either way I am to blame for all his problems."
She had no control over anything her father did to her when was younger, it hurt her, the was a hole in her chest and she didn't know how to make it better. "And somewhere along the way from all that abuse... I died, something inside of me died, something... killed me." She finished.
"So yes. My whole entire life sucks, past, present and future." She concluded but then her mind started reeling again and she started to ramble on. "Maybe it is my fault, I deserved it, do I not? All the people that I have killed.-"
"No Ziver." Gibbs didn't let Ziva go to the dark place. "He made you this way. He had no right to treat you that way." The father figure felt bad for his little girl, his heart ached. "Ziver, I can see that you're hurting. Let me help."
"How Gibbs? How?" She almost yelled in desperation. "How can you help me?" Tears were starting to well up in her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall just yet, she could still hold it together. She was trying so hard not to whimper out loud in pain. "I do not know anything anymore." She shook her head with her head in her hands.
The father figure could see that she was spiraling. "Just stay here with me tonight. We'll figure it out together okay?" To be honest he didn't know but she needed him right now and he was not going to disappoint her like all the others have in her life.
"Ok..." She whispered. She wanted to believe him, she really wanted to believe that he could make everything better. She hid her face in her hands again, one covering her mouth as tears threatened to spill over the edge.
Gibbs could see the pain and the suffering her father had inflicted on her and his heart couldn't take it anymore. Silently, he moved away from the table against the wall and sat next to his little girl on the workbench, he then wrapped his arms around her softly as she instantly leaned against him, welcoming the hug.
"You know what?" Ziva asked quietly after a while as she looked up into his warm blue eyes with her watery ones, wanting him to ask her back.
"What?" He returned in the same tone as she did, pulling away just a little bit to properly look down at her with a soft expression written clearly across his face.
"I just want to be loved." A single tear rolled down the trained assassin's face. "Is that too much to ask?" She's broken. In a silent response, the father figure placed his hand on her cheek and wiped the tear away with his calloused thumb, pulled her in and tenderly kissed her on the temple. And that made her break as she sobbed quietly in his loving embrace.
"No kiddo." Gibbs sighed. Her father never loved her the way he was supposed to and now Ziva is broken but Gibbs is hopefully going to make things better for her because he loves her like she was his own and is never going to let her down.
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