[She can probably hear his breathing, measured and even - forcibly so. It was about the only thing he'd allow himself to focus on right now. He was trying not to think about York - after all, he knew exactly where - or when - York had fallen asleep. He'd wake up, and then he'd die.]
[Wash was grieving again. He hadn't thought it possible, but here he was, doing just that - or rather, refusing to do it. He couldn't. It would dig up too much that he was trying to keep buried. He'd just have to bury that grief again, once he remembered how.]
[It was too easy to find comfort here. Ziva was next to him, North was down the hall, and his Spirits always wanted to cuddle regardless of his mood. He could always lean on them. Then again, he'd leaned on York too, and look where that had gotten him - prone, and trying to re-learn how to cope.]
[Damn it, he was so sick of this.]
[And then he caught sight of Ducky.]
[It was the flower with the face that did him in - namely the sympathy on that face. Even the flower wanted him to feel better- the flower that he'd gotten her.]
[Something inside him crumbled. He couldn't do it anymore - couldn't keep pushing people away. Couldn't keep burying things. What was the point in being miserable alone now when he knew he'd just be miserable alone later, after he woke up and they weren't there anymore? Might as well do what he could now - maybe then, later, he'd still be intact after everything was over.]
[Though he was going to fucking break if he woke up alone in the bed tomorrow. Again. He couldn't do that again. Not so soon.]
[But it was a risk he was going to take. He let go of Ziva's hand and wrapped his arm around her instead, holding her tightly, burying his face in her hair.]
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[Wash was grieving again. He hadn't thought it possible, but here he was, doing just that - or rather, refusing to do it. He couldn't. It would dig up too much that he was trying to keep buried. He'd just have to bury that grief again, once he remembered how.]
[It was too easy to find comfort here. Ziva was next to him, North was down the hall, and his Spirits always wanted to cuddle regardless of his mood. He could always lean on them. Then again, he'd leaned on York too, and look where that had gotten him - prone, and trying to re-learn how to cope.]
[Damn it, he was so sick of this.]
[And then he caught sight of Ducky.]
[It was the flower with the face that did him in - namely the sympathy on that face. Even the flower wanted him to feel better- the flower that he'd gotten her.]
[Something inside him crumbled. He couldn't do it anymore - couldn't keep pushing people away. Couldn't keep burying things. What was the point in being miserable alone now when he knew he'd just be miserable alone later, after he woke up and they weren't there anymore? Might as well do what he could now - maybe then, later, he'd still be intact after everything was over.]
[Though he was going to fucking break if he woke up alone in the bed tomorrow. Again. He couldn't do that again. Not so soon.]
[But it was a risk he was going to take. He let go of Ziva's hand and wrapped his arm around her instead, holding her tightly, burying his face in her hair.]