Chapter Text
She heard the word.
The word she had been dreading ever since her return. The word that had inched closer to existence with every kiss, every touch, every moment of intimacy. Its inevitability had crept in more and more with each passing day—through the way he looked at her, held her, supported her without hesitation.
She knew he loved her. And perhaps… she loved him too. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Not yet.
His voice was quiet, cautious even…but something about it snapped her back to the moment.
“Ziva?”
She hadn’t realized how long she’d been standing there, completely motionless—most likely with an expression no one would want to see after confessing their love.
She hesitated a moment longer before speaking, her eyes laced with fear.
“You… love me?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and took a small step back, creating distance where just moments ago there had been none.
“I do,” he said softly, humor tempting him, no doubt but he chose sincerity in the moment. “But it’s okay if you don’t—or don’t yet. I can wait.”
It had only been three weeks since her return. Three incredible, joy-filled, romance-laced weeks. Three weeks that had given her a glimpse of the life she had always longed for—but never truly believed she could have. Still, there was a part of her he hadn’t seen. A part she kept carefully hidden, not for her own sake… but for his.
That hidden side had her curled over the bathroom sink, gasping for air through the tight grip of a panic attack on more than one occasion. It jolted her awake in the dead of night, soaked in sweat, heart racing, as she relived the horrors she had endured while on the run. It whispered indecently to her that she would never be enough for Tony or Tali or this life that was just beyond her reach.
That side told her…no, screamed at her, that she would never be worthy of the love he so freely gave. No matter how much he validated his trust towards her. No matter how patient he was. She didn’t deserve it.
She wanted to believe otherwise. But that part of her, the part still surviving, was louder than anything else.
“You shouldn’t,” was all she could say.
She meant it, but the words came out sharper than she had intended.
She looked up, and her chest tightened. Tony’s face had shifted, and she saw the hurt and confusion creeping in. His eyebrows furrowed but his eyes were wide, still begging for an explanation.
Still, frustration laced his voice. “Why would you say that? I mean, after everything we’ve been through—do you really think I have a choice in how much I love you?”
“You don’t know me, Tony. You don’t know who I am. Not really. This version you’ve seen since I’ve returned… it is not reality.” She ran her hand absently through her curly locks.
He stepped closer, cautiously bridging the gap between them.
“Then show me.”
She could see the sincerity in his eyes. The way they silently pleaded for her to trust him—to trust that her walls could drop, that she could unravel, and let him see every desperate, broken, mangled part of her soul. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
He was whole. Or at least, he was getting there. He was certainly much closer than she was.
He had time to process, to heal, to fix himself. He had come so far. As a man, as a father, as a person. And she couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t—take him back to the past.
“Tony. This is not about me. This is about you. You were better without me.”
He shook his head, a smile creeping onto his face that was more of a mask than anything genuine. It was an emotion-covering smile, one he couldn’t quite pull off.
“No, no. You don’t get to do that. That is not what we’re doing here.”
Her voice broke through, louder now—desperation and frustration seeping into every word. The sound echoed off the alley walls, where they had ducked into seeking privacy after the heat of the evening got the better of them. A slow-burning tension had built all night—through fleeting touches, lingering glances, and quiet laughter—until it finally spilled over, pulling them into each other’s arms. And somewhere in the haze of it all, between breathless kisses and murmured promises, Tony had said it. He had told her he loved her—before either of them had a chance to realize how far they’d fallen.
“Do you really think I’m happy, Tony? Because I’m not.” She was throwing daggers with her words, a defense she had used many times before but rarely on him.
He leaned against the brick wall behind him, trying to steady his emotions, though his stance wasn’t the only thing that wavered. He failed to hide the cracks in his own resolve.
“You could’ve fooled me! I mean really Ziva, what the hell have we been doing?” He yelled toward her, his frustration slipping free.
She could feel herself beginning to crack…the anger giving way to something deeper, softer, more vulnerable. Hurt replaced the sharpness that had once been there. Typically she could handle his anger with ease. She had never had an issue with control but at this moment, her anxiety was taking hold. She couldn’t keep her usual fasaud.
“I am not okay, Tony. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve someone like me.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, the liquid threatening its way past her tear ducts.
He took her hands in his, taking her back to the emotion heavy moment they shared in the olive grove some five years prior. She snapped her hands back, turning her back on him— on them.
He was noticeably stunned. A masking chuckle overtaking his next words. “I mean, you can’t be serious right now. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you— How long we’ve waited for you? Our life together just started”
“That’s exactly the problem,” she said, her back still to him, unwilling to face the desperation she knew was in his eyes. “You’ve been waiting for someone I’m not.”
He stepped forward and placed a steady hand on her shoulder, urging her to turn around. She did. His eyes didn’t waver, grounding her, holding her still even as she tried to emotionally retreat.
“We’ve been waiting for you—whatever that looks like. Do you think I spent the last four years believing this would be easy?”
She scoffed, using his own words against him, letting sarcasm mask the panic rising in her chest. “You could’ve fooled me.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. He stayed rooted in the moment, refusing to let it pass without understanding. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her hands shot out in front of her as she motioned through the reasons. “The flowers. The little notes. The jewelry. Even the lavish dates and the doorway kisses. It’s all too much.”
“But you said you liked all of that.” His facial expression switched to a mixture of confusion and hurt as he recounted all of the ways he had tried to appreciate her, since her return.
“I am drowning.” She laid it out plainly, like it was the only way she could make him understand. There was no tiptoeing, no masking—just truth.
His words rushed out in response, fast and desperate, as if he could fix it by filling the silence.
“I can back off. I—I just thought you liked everything I was doing. I’m only trying to make you happy.”
Her shoulders dropped. Any remaining defenses slipped away, and her exhaustion finally reached her eyes. “I can’t even make myself happy, Tony. I can’t expect you to. You’ll exhaust yourself by trying—and I’ll exhaust myself by pretending.”
Slowly she sank to the cold, hard ground beneath her—an action that mirrored just how low she felt. Sunken. Defeated. Confused.
Tony followed without hesitation, settling beside her. He stayed close, hovering in that careful space between comfort and distance, not wanting to crowd her. Neither of them spoke right away, both trying to process where to go from here.
She stared at the pavement in front of her. Picking at the skin around her nails to occupy her hands. Finally she spoke, “I can move out. I have been looking at places. I—”
He cut her off, taking control of the conversation. “Woah there. I get you’re overwhelmed but you’re shopping for places to live? Ziva, we have a guest bedroom.”
“That may not be far enough for me to work through my problems. I cannot drag you into them again. You have made too much progress without me.”
He was quick in responding. Showing just how truthful he was. “And if I want you to drag me into them?”
She kept her eyes fixed in front of her, refusing to meet his. But she could feel his gaze—steady and unrelenting—urging her to look his way.
“You do not want that,” she said quietly.
His mouth opened, then shut again. He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek, clearly fighting to keep his composure. But it didn’t work. The frustration slipped through, sharp and sudden.
“Stop telling me what I want,” he snapped, his voice tight. “You don’t get to decide.”
“I feel it is best if I decide here.”
“Best for who exactly?” His voice rose again, sharp but not cruel—just hurt. “Who are you trying to help here, Ziva? Because it sure as hell isn’t me or Tali.”
That one stung.
It was one thing to know she was hurting Tony. But to hear how Tali would be affected… that pierced something deeper. The tears didn’t hold back this time. She let them fall, unfiltered, as she struggled to process the moment unraveling between them.
She forced her way through the dryness in her throat. “I—I…” Her eyes finally found his, expecting to see anger, but instead finding something steadier. Something that grounded her.
“I do not know if this is the best thing,” she admitted. “Truthfully, I do not. But I need to make a decision. I need to work on myself, Tony. And I cannot do that if I am constantly putting on a mask for you both.”
His shoulders dropped, and he gave a slow nod—his breath finally evening, the heat behind his eyes starting to fade.
“I understand,” he said quietly. “But we’ve worked so hard to have you back. You’ve worked so hard to be back. I don’t want that to seem pointless.”
She smiled, a small smile that felt like a flicker of light after hours of darkness. “It will never be pointless.” Her hand came up, brushing her thumb over his jaw gently. “I will forever be grateful to be back, but I need to do this for me.”
Maybe it was the exhaustion from the argument or the natural resolution of the moment, but he gave in. He leaned back, pushing himself up to his feet. He nodded, extending his hand to help her up.
She accepted, her fingers curling around his. “I understand,” he muttered, and she could tell by the softness in his voice that he meant it.
“You do?” she asked, her gaze still fixed on the cobblestones beneath them, unable to meet his eyes.
“Well, not fully, no. But I will.” This time it was his hand that found her jaw, gently guiding her to meet his gaze. “We’ll get through this.” His lips quirked into a half-smile, trying to ease the tension. “Can’t be half as hard as anything we’ve faced before, right?”
Her eyes softened, the weight of her decision still heavy on her chest, but for the first time in hours, she felt a spark of hope. It wasn’t fully realized yet, but the idea of moving forward together didn’t seem as impossible. “I hope so,” she whispered.
Tony’s smile shifted, becoming something more genuine, something that felt real and comforting in the quiet aftermath. There was a promise in it—one that, for the moment, felt strong enough to hold on to. As he pulled her into a careful embrace, she closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his presence settle in her. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—they were in this together. And somehow, that made the weight of everything else a little easier to bear